An Outside Opinion

by ChaosFurMarine

Rating: teen
Tags: Twilight Sparkle, Profanity, Violence, Princess Celestia, Dark, Death, Human, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Mystery, Comedy
Length: 2740

Something strange has become of the Princess of Friendship, casting the future of Equestria and the fate of the mare herself into uncertainty. In her desperation, Princess Celestia turns to outside help for answers...

After an unknown incident leaves Princess Celestia unsure if her precious pupil is alive, dead, or something in-between, the future of Equestria seems uncertain. With the elements compromised, the crown thrown into disarray, and Celestia herself flagging under the weight of her fear and grief, the solar diarch resorts to extra-dimensional assistance to unravel this mystery...

In the form of a lich necromancer.

***

Inspired by Dead/Light, by Lord Destrustor: https://www.fimfiction.net/story/173638/dead-light

Published 2023-09-09 23:10:01 UTC
Last updated 2023-09-09 23:10:01 UTC

An Unusual House Call

In a deep chamber, absent of light, slabs of cold grey stone stretched out in rows. Upon them lay bodies, once human beings full of life, now laid at rest in various stages of decay, their forms ranging from the pallid cadavers of the recently departed to piles of bleached, ancient bones. The dead were the sole occupants of this room, and in fact of the entire mausoleum of which the chamber was a but a single part. And they all were silent, at peace in their eternal rest.

Except for me.

I strode purposefully among the cold slabs of stone, bone scraping bone and as I scuttled across the tiled stone of the chamber floor and set about my morbid work, laboring over the other bodies with a surgeon's precision. Had the chamber not been pitch black, I'm sure it would have been a grisly sight– My upper body, from what one might glimpse beneath the hooded black robe that veiled my appearance, was a in the vague shape of a skeletal human, all bone and ossified flesh. Below that, my lower body extended along the floor like a cloaked serpent, too elongated to be human, and fully concealed beneath my robe's fabric. A discordant array of motion and the clicking of far too many limbs under the cloak painted a horrid, abstract image of what might lay beneath. Yet despite the abundance of movement, I was just as dead as all the others- more dead, arguably– yet at the same time, perhaps not quite. For I was after all a lich, long since ascended beyond mere death.

And, to my increasing discomfort, I was being watched.

I clutched at my cloak with skeletal hands and drew it closer around myself, feeling mildly violated by this ongoing voyeurism. I could feel the eyes on me, an unknown party watching without physically being present. This was no simple scrying spell, whatever I felt watching me was doing so from beyond the veil of this reality. I'd felt the presence intermittently over the last few days, but never before had it lingered for this long.

Sighing, I placed my embalming tools down onto the slab before me. I had hoped that this intrusion was merely the fleeting gaze of some wandering metaphysical entity, or a god that had found me to be of passing interest, but not worthy of contact. The last thing I wanted was to be the target of some extra-dimensional crusade, or have to explain once again to some deity of undeath that I would regrettably have to decline their offer of becoming their faithful servant. At first, I had been quite relieved when my silent stalker had not immediately sought to open a dialogue. But now it was becoming clear that this would be a recurring distraction, if I did not press the issue myself.

And so, projecting my magical aura towards the invisible viewing portal, I imagined the energy forming a sort of finger, pressing against the thin surface that kept it a one-way connection...and ripped the metaphorical digit downward.

Immediately, sunlight flooded my previously pitch-black chamber, blinding me temporarily and resulting in me releasing a hoarse, hollow shriek more suited to some puppeteer's comedic caricature of a lich than to a proper avatar of unlife like myself. A quite embarrassing start, though I took some consolation in the loud, startled noise of shock that came from the other side of the portal, the sound almost akin to a strange, feminine neigh. Either I had just greatly upset my observer's steed, or my sudden act had scared them enough for their scream to somehow turn into a terrified whinny.

I coughed and collected myself, still fairly embarrassed as I cleared my throat. Good thing I still had my throat attached for this, actually. When was the last time I'd had need to speak? It would have to have been a good few years ago...actually, come to think of it, more like decades...hmm. I had gotten rather lost in my research this time, hadn't I?

"Stop!"

The somewhat panicked female voice stirred me from my thoughts, returning me to the present. My mysterious observer, after taking a brief moment to collect herself as well, continued in a calmer yet still tense tone. "Forgive my intrusion, stranger. I did not intend to disrupt your... work. I apologize, I hadn't expect to be detected– but I can assure you I have no hostile intent!"

Doing my best to dust off my incredibely rusty conversational skills, I finally spoke up, voice rough from long disuse. "Ah. That is... good. Er, forgive me as well, I had failed to anticipate the possible difference in light level."

There was an awkward silence, both of us waiting for the other to say something as it dragged on. If I'd had the capacity to sweat nervously, I would have. Idly, I noticed that the bright portal now visible in front of me showed only a wall of light, preventing me from seeing this strange woman. She must have quickly thrown up a protective spell fearing I'd intented to cross over forcefully, or perhaps simply wishing to obscure her identity.

"So..." I ventured tentatively, already uncomfortable. Conversation was never exactly my favorite activity. "Perhaps you could explain what exactly it is you...want?"

I cringed as no reply was immediately forthcoming. Gods below, this was awkward. At this point I was highly considering just hanging up the portal-phone.

But before I could she spoke, her voice soft and hesitant. "I...I had not intended to make contact, but I suppose that out of the necromancers I have observed, you are the least immediately offensive..."

Oh, good. So necromancer-watching was a habit for her. That was almost creepier than necromancy itself. And I'd have to add "least immediately offensive necromancer" to my list of titles.

"Ahem." She coughed quietly. "Again, my apologies. The few experiences I've had with necromancers in the past have been unpleasant, and I was unprepared for this conversation, so I do hope you will forgive me my brief lapse in manners."

I nodded, assuming she could still see me from behind her wall of light, and waited for her to continue.

"I," The voice rallied, more polite and authoritative now after collecting herself, "am Celestia, Princess of the Sun, and diarch of Equestria. Allow me to extend my greetings to you, great necromancer."

I stared forward blankly, eye sockets dark and empty. "Alright. You... you have done so. And I, um, acknowledge this?"

Fuck. How did conversations work again?

"...May I ask for your own name, so I might know what to call you?" Celestia asked politely, though perhaps a bit flummoxed by my reply.

Right, the customary exchanging of names, of course! Except I had no idea how to answer that question. I knew I'd had a name at one point, when I was born... and alive. But that was several thousand years in the past, and I'd long forgotten it. I mostly just let the people of whatever world I was currently invading name me for themselves. "Gravelord," "The Skeleton King," "The Black Sun," "Dark Lord," several variations on the general theme of "the thing that's killing us all"... I'd been called many names, and none had inspired any real attachment from me.

"Just... necromancer, is fine." I said.

To her credit, Celestia took the non-answer with grace. "I see. Well, necromancer, to answer your question of what I want- I have been searching across realities for one skilled in the necromantic arts, who might be willing to provide their unique insight into an issue of greatest importance, both to my realm and to myself." She explained cautiously, but politely.

I digested this for a moment before responding. "You seek a... consultation? With a necromancer from another world?" I asked, perplexed. A cross-dimensional consultation request? That was a new one. I was already growing uncomfortable at the notion.

"Yes. From a learned and experienced one, as the issue itself seems to be beyond any level of necromancy my world has seen." With this she sighed, and even with my own atrophied social skills I could sense the weight of her exhaustion. "I understand how unusual this must be. Please understand that reaching out across the multiverse is not something I have ever felt need to do before. But from what I've glimpsed of your...endeavors...you more than fit the criteria."

Ah, there it was. That note of cautiously veiled disgust and reproach, hidden beneath the words as well as she could manage. The tone one adopts when trying to be cordial towards a dangerous entity for whom you felt only fear and revulsion. This, at least, was familiar territory.

"You wish to barter, then. For my services in this "consultation" into whatever this issue you face is."

"Yes." Celestia's terse answer came after a short silence. I got the sense she was no stranger to the negotiation table, as she neatly put aside the distaste I'd caught a
glimpse of for the sake of diplomacy. "In return, I can offer you more than sufficient payment in gold, or a wide array of gems. I have plentiful coffers of both, and I'll pay whatever price is needed for your expertise."

Or perhaps she wasn't such a skilled negotiator after all, to make such an open-ended offer. But no, it didn't seem like a lack of experience was the cause of this haste. Was that desperation I heard, underneath that calm demeanor?

Regardless, the offer meant little to me. "Unfortunately, I fear I have little need for gold or gems. I already have access to any mineral wealth I might require." I explained, trying to sound as apologetic as I could. "To be honest, I doubt any material payment would outweigh the risks involved in dealing with an unknown party from across dimensions– no offense."

"I– none taken. But surely–"

"However." I cut her protest off. "There is one form of payment I might be willing to take such risks for. The only true currency for a necromancer."

Celestia reflexively took a quick, hissed intake of air before replying sharply. "No."

"I'm not asking for you to send living subjects, or even the newly dead. Long-dead corpses would be perfectly–"

"NO!" Celestia shouted suddenly. Her voice echoing forcefully off the chamber walls, unexpectedly amplified. "No, I will not turn over the remains of my subjects for you to commit atrocities against the living of your world with! I will not barter with the blood of the innocent!

...Oook, that had been loud. And a bit rude. There was no need for her to be hurtful about it.

It was also surprisingly idealistic, if her realm really was under serious threat from this mysterious necromancy-related problem. Even many of the more respected royalty I knew of would hardly have blinked at solving their own problems while funding the misfortune of others, if they were far enough removed from the results. Very idealistic, indeed.

...I suppose the proper word would be "noble," if I recalled the concept correctly.

"Well, please do excuse me, princess." I said as carefully as possible, trying to avoid another shattering of my non-existent eardrums. "But I don't know that I can be of assistance. I prefer not to involve myself in business that's not my own, and I can't justify taking risk without acceptable return. I'm sorry, princess, truly I am."

Truly I was not, since I cared about the affairs of the living on about the same level that I did the affairs of grass. But a small, distant memory of social etiquette seemed to urge me not to mention that for some reason, so I kept my jaw shut.

"Anyway, I will now, um...I will now end the conversation in a socially appropriate manner. I offer you a farewell that is pleasantly cordial, yet not inviting of further contact in the future!" Admittedly it was more of a general summary of what a reply might look like than an actual reply, but I was already losing my grasp on how to conversation, and in my defense– I was bad at this.

Immediately I hastened to begin sealing the dimensional window, but once again found myself interrupted by the princess.

"Wait– please. I beg you, please hear me out for just a moment longer." She sounded different now, all the fire and righteous indignation from her previous outburst gone. She sounded... tired.

Gradually, the blinding light of the portal dimmed, until the image of this "Princess Celestia" was no longer obscured. Now I could see...

"A pegasus. A horned pegasus..." I wondered aloud, tilting my head in intrigue.

The creature looked at once both awe-inspiring, and weathered. Her coat was a brilliant white, and a nebulous mane of rainbow flowed gently like a summer stream behind her. And yet, what one would first notice would be the dark, black circles under her eyes, contrasting rather starkly against the white fur. She looked as if she had not slept a full night in weeks, practically dead on her hooves, and her eyes had a slight red puffiness to them. The majestic wings tucked against her sides, which surely must have been a sight to behold normally, were disheveled and sported errant feathers that stuck out at odd angles.

But what struck me the most was the hunched, defeated way she held herself. It just seemed wrong somehow, as if a creature such as her was meant to sit proudly.

"An alicorn, is what I am called in my world." She replied softly, making a feeble attempt at a small smile. It was mostly unsuccessful. "But my purpose in this was not to reveal my species, but to make my plea face-to-face, as openly as I can."

Celestia took a small, steadying breath, closing her eyes for a moment. When she opened them again, the depth of the emotion in them surprised me.

"Please, Necromancer. I fear my kingdom's future is in peril, and I have nowhere else to turn. My knowledge of necromancy is woefully insufficient to address what has occurred, and the other necromancers I've observed across dimensions have all been innately untrustworthy, unspeakably abhorrent, or insufficiently knowledgeable. So I beg you, as one immortal to another– hear my plight at least, and let me find whatever way I can to repay you for any insight you might feel you can offer. This is all I ask, and all I can give." She bowed her head a few inches, her expression solemn. "I will grovel, if you wish."

I shook my head quickly at her offer to grovel, my thoughts distant. I was feeling... something. Pity, perhaps, or maybe sympathy? Something almost wistful, whatever it was. It was strange– though I had taken great care to preserve my capacity for emotion (something many lesser liches were content to shirk in the process of their transformation) it was extremely unusual for the words of a living being to stir any feelings in me. Perhaps it was because she was, as she said, "a fellow immortal?" The weight of ages was certainly present behind those eyes...

I tapped a few of my taloned legs against the floor as I deliberated. This was all very far outside my comfort zone. I didn't do "deals" or "trade" if I could help it, and I certainly didn't lend assistance to others. But... maybe just this once? Perhaps I could learn something from this necromantic dilemma of hers. There would at least be no harm in hearing her out, I reasoned.

Oh, I could already tell I was going to regret this. Curse my heart for picking now of all times to start beating again. Actually, now that I thought of it, where *had* I put my heart...?

No, no. Focus. Deal with extra-dimensional horse first, search the canopic jars later.

"Then...what exactly is the question you seek an answer to, Princess?" I asked slowly.

A small spark of hope lit within her weary eyes at my apparent willingness to hear her out, and the alicorn lifted her head. She straightened up, and the room around her seemed to grow brighter as she did. She met my gaze with newfound determination, her expression hardenening into one of firm resolve.

"I need to know what has become of my dearest student, Twilight Sparkle."