Mind control.
A simple concept with devastating applications, the Necromancer, the best fighter in the kingdom, knew this very well. He was first shunned for his gifts, then he was fed dreams of grandeur, then promptly slain.

So short. So simple. But he never wanted to do those things. In his youth, he had traveled from town to town in hopes of finding a home, but each time he found one his powers were revealed and he was chased off.

Everyone is dealt a hand in life, a calling that they are good at. His was necromancy, he never asked for it and didn't study it, but he could do it.

Then he happened, a kind man came to him and praised his ability, feeding him dreams of fame and glory. No one had ever donethat before! So like a lost puppy, he followed them.

He doesn't remember the color of his house. He doesn't remember the size. But he still remembers the basement. He still remembers the grin the monster had.

He still remembers the pain. The kind man was no man but a monster. A powerful wizard who had mastered the arcane arts. And he wanted his curse.

When the wizard failed to take it for himself, he mind controlled him. But instead of trying to go around his consciousness, he rammed through it.

But throughout all he did, the real him was still there, aware of his actions. Sometimes he could influence them. Most of the time he couldn't. Whenever he could he tried to limit others' loss.

When the wizard got the crystal it only became harder to resist. The necromancer had strained himself so much he lost chunks of himself.

He couldn't tell you his own name, his hometown, or his best friend's name (though he could tell you it was a cockroach for who would befriend a kid with cursed abilities)

But finally, he was free. Free of the wizard, free of the pain, and free of himself. He would never hurt anyone ever again. Or so he thought…

He didn't account for waking up in a forest. For a while he just sat down, waiting for his body to begin moving. But that monster would no longer influence him.

Standing up he noticed he felt sluggish for he had not controlled his body for many years. And for the first time in years, the Necromancer wept.

He wept for all he had done, he wept for all had seen, he wept for all he couldn't change, and lastly, he wept with pure joy.

He didn't know what god granted him this favor or why. But he would relish it. The first thing he noticed was how different he was.

He had kept his armor, bat wings, and sword, but he had also gained something new. A horn was jutting out of his forehead. “Great now I look like something the painter would make,” he grumbled.

He also noticed he was similar to the king's pony. The noticeable differences being the aforementioned horn and wings.

The first thing he wanted to do was to check if he still had his curse. But oddly enough. He could find no human remains. “Most peculiar” I whispered, humans were known to live and die all over the world. So where was he?

So instead he would try to resurrect a simple pony their skeleton wasn't complete but It would do for now.

Going to do the spell he noticed how effortlessly the magic flowed from him. Normally magic would resist being used but in this body, it responded to his every whim.

The best analogy he could make was he had tried hearing with his hands all his life but now he was given ears. The first was hard but possible, and the second was so easy it was disgusting.

The skull popped out of the ground, but it was attached to a body. Where did the other bones come from? Questions for a later time. He was about to dismiss the skeleton when suddenly

“Impossible!” he exclaimed. For it should be. The skeleton had fur wrapping around it, remaking the skeleton into a living creature again.

“I live to serve” came a monotonous voice. Which scared the necromancer. He knew ponies couldn't talk.

He knew it was a pony because his mast- the monster he self-corrected. had fed him lots of information. Especially about biology, for any necromancer worth his weight must know biology.

He was also scared because the undead can't talk. Was he just that powerful now? Taking a closer look he saw it was a yellow pony with a red mane. They also had an apple tattoo on their flank.

“Where are we?” he asked hoping to get some answers.
“Equestria,” he instinctively raised his eyebrow.
“Where in Equestria?”
“The Everfree forest.”

He then asked a different set of questions: “How did you die?”
“Killed,” that's not very helpful, time to push for more.
“By what?”
“A chimera.”
“A chimera? What's a chimera? I've never heard of them.”
“A chimera is a beast with three heads; a snake, a goat, and a lion.”

“What's with the tattoo?” finally asking that burning question.
If the undead could have looked confused he would have, “A cutie mark appears when a pony discovers their talents.” my heart sank.

After fumbling off his armor, a feat in itself without hands. His fear was confirmed, branded on my flank was an equine skull. Now he could never hide who he was; who he is.

Deciding to take a look at himself he noticed he had black fur with a short mane that seemed to be made of darkness, and he also noticed he was quite tall. “How rare are they?”

“I've never seen an adult pony without one.” great no way to hide it now either.
“What am I?” he asked, beginning to once again hate the gods.
“An alicorn; a being of immense power with the strength of an earth pony, the magic of a unicorn, and the wings of a pegasus,” they explained.

“Where is the nearest town?” he pointed a hoof “Thank you, I relieve you of your service,” letting him wander would help Noone. The first order of business was magic. He knew he could do more with it. So he tried lifting his sword.

The hilt began glowing a hot pink that moved like lightning. He tried to will it to move, but it didn't budge. He quickly grew frustrated and tried again.

This time it shot straight forward with speed to rival a cannonball. It punched completely through a tree and impaled itself hilt-first into the tree behind.

He also realized he had not yet looked around, so taking in his surroundings he saw trees, trees, and… More… trees. Was there anything else? No? Back to the matter at hand, or I guess it's hoof now huh? Back to the matter at hoof.

This time he picked up his sword and it didn't go to the stars, it instead glided through the air. He swung it around for a while making sure he still had his skills before quickly sheathing it.

Time to try something new, he had seen that monster do it many times so he understood the basics.

Picking up a stick he tried to make it disappear and reappear at will. Quickly he mastered it, much faster than he should have. Probably just an alicorn thing.

He quickly willed away his armor and sword, he would rather discard those memories and be gone of any reminders.

But if asked the necromancer would say the gear was of legendary quality and irreplaceable. But secretly he wanted to punish himself for what he had done.

He had ripped kingdoms asunder, torn families apart, and slain without mercy. Others may forgive him, in time. But he would never forgive himself

Next on the list was his wings and mane. He had already decided his horn was too powerful a tool to not have and this way if seen with wings he could say he was testing a spell.

He also noticed the other ponies' mane didn't seem as fluid as his so that too would need to be hidden

So he willed away his wings and mane, they were still there, just hidden. And so he began his marching.

As he traveled he noticed many odd creatures, wolves made of wood, a multi-headed dragon, and a lion with wings and a scorpion tail.

But they all avoided him, every last one. When they saw him they would panic and run like death itself was right behind them.

——————————————————————————————————
Fluttershy’s cabin

Nothing bad had happened yet in Ponyville for a while. Which is exactly why something bad had to happen.

Fluttershy took care of animals big and small. Her cabin is a sanctuary for them. She helped whenever she could.

She knew something was wrong when multiple manticores came by. She had dealt with them before, but never this many at a time.

She doubted this many would come to her for something small, so she asked each one what was wrong. They each have the same answer.

Death itself has made its home in the forest.

Author's Note

im making this because i like castle crashers and had the urge to play it again so updates (if any) are going to be pretty on and off. i think i know where i want to take this story but then again not really.