//------------------------------//
// Chapter 5: Ghosts of the Past 
// Story: The Winter 
// by DannyJ 
//------------------------------//

I fling the door open and lunge outside, giving a primal roar as I grapple with the beast that came to my doorstep. It cries out and struggles, but I pull it over the threshold and throw it across the room, pausing my assault only long enough to buck the door closed behind me. I advance on it with my sharpened cane clutched between my teeth. My old heart is racing, my eyes wide and manic. In my enthusiasm, it takes me a moment to realise that my visitor is a unicorn, a light pink stallion with a two-tone mane of deep reds.

He whimpers, holding up his hooves in front of him in a gesture of surrender. But I'm not falling it. I pin him down with one forehoof and use the other to hold my cane, positioning the sharp end directly under his throat. I need my mouth free to interrogate him.

"Who are you?" I demand in a voice scratchy and dry from years of disuse. "Who do you serve? Is this a trick? Some kind of trap? I'm wise to you things! You won't get me the same way twice!"

The stallion squeezes his eyes shut and makes a pitiful squeaking noise.

"I-I'm nopony!" he protests. "I'm just a traveller! I didn't know I was trespassing! I'm sorry!"

I press the cane harder into his throat, drawing blood and making him wince. "Don't lie to me! I can smell a liar, and you reek!"

He breaks down crying. "I swear, this is all a mistake!"

I growl and back off, removing my cane from near his throat but continuing to point it in his general direction as he clambers to his hooves.

"M-My name is Jars," he says, massaging his throat with a hoof. "But I mostly go by Jasper... Oh, Celestia..."

He looks around the room, mouth agape as he stares at all the glowing red sigils drawn in blood on the walls. I eye him warily, and gesture over to a nearby chair. Neither of us speak as he sits down where I pointed, and I take a seat opposite and glare silently at him for a bit. He squirms uncomfortably under my gaze as I consider him. I don't know quite what to make of him yet, but I can tell that he's hiding something from me.

"I-I..." The stallion looks at the floor in an effort to avoid my glare. "I'm just a... just a traveller... a tourist, really... I came up from... from Barnsley, and wanted to... see the Barrows, in Grimrise Hills. For their historical significance!"

"Enough," I say, rising from my chair.

He's lying. I know he's lying. It's exactly what he's lying about that eludes me.

"If that is truly your motive, then you should leave. Skydark is no place for tourists, the Barrows even less so. You have absolutely no idea what lurks in these woods."

"I-I'm not afraid of monsters," he says, meeting my eyes at last. "I've encountered monsters before."

"Not monsters like these, you haven't."

Unless he has.

"W-Well... surely, if it's so dangerous outside, you can't expect me to go back now, in the dead of a winter's night?"

I level a furious glare at him.

"...Yes, that's true. I can't. But I also don't trust you, stranger. You come here of all places, now of all times, stinking of treachery and deception. How do I know you're not going to cut my throat while I sleep? Hmm?"

I look around the interior of my cabin, eyes darting about wildly. It just now occurs to me that the monsters are not pounding at the walls anymore. The cabin has gone quiet. The sigils are yet incomplete. And I am a lone elderly earth stallion, recently depleted of my magic, trapped in a room with a young, fit unicorn who probably has magic to spare; I might already be caught in their trap. If it comes down to a fight, I can only hope that I'm still strong enough to hold onto my cane if he tries to steal it from me... and strong enough to kill him with it.

"Sir... listen," Jasper says quietly, keeping his voice steady despite his heavy breathing. "I'm sorry to have disturbed you. If you're uncomfortable with my presence, I can leave."

"You're not going anywhere," I growl, raising my cane.

Jasper falls backwards off his chair, and scrambles away as I advance on him. He backs up all the way to the far wall, cowering on the floor as I point the sharpened end at his face.

"Please..." he whimpers, burying his face in his hooves. "Please don't..."

I flip my cane around, pointing the handle at him instead of the tip, and smack him across the muzzle with it. The pink pony tumbles over, crying out in pain.

"I am in no mood for your lies!" I shout. "Cease your charade, creature!"

Jasper flips onto his back, holding out a hoof in front of him as if to stop me. His wide eyes are filled with false fear, and a slight trickle of blood runs down from his mouth where I struck him.

"Please, no! I am telling you, I am no creature!"

"LIES!"

I strike him in his exposed stomach this time, driving all the wind from him. He cries out and gasps for breath, rolling around on my floor in pantomimed agony.

"I don't know what your designs are, but I won't be deceived by the likes of you!" I give another crack of my cane across his cheek, jerking his head to the side. "Speak, monster! Or take your secrets to your grave!"

With a bloody muzzle, false tears in his eyes, and a feigned shortness of breath, the stallion looks up to meet my gaze.

"I swear to Celestia! I swear by all the stars in the sky, by my mother and my birth name, by any god you care to name or any oath you wish to hear, I swear I am just a pony in search of the Barrows, and that's it!"

I snarl, and feel an old fire rising in me again, such as I haven't felt in years. With a youthful vigour and savagery I thought I'd long since outgrown, I strike the lying wretch again, and again, and again. Over and over I beat the bloodied stallion lying on my floor, striking ribs and legs and flanks and face, anywhere I can think of to make him hurt more, until he's a bruised and broken mess. By the time I'm done, he's curled up in a tiny ball, crying into the floor, pink coat now marred by streaks of red and splotches of black and blue.

"The truth, this time," I hiss, sticking the sharpened end of the cane into his ear. "Or I spear it through your brain."

The stallion's whimpering abates as he slowly rolls over. He takes a deep breath, seeming to compose himself, and opens his cold grey eyes to look at me. Tears still stain his face, but his gaze is steady, and I see a change come over him. A steely determination replaces the fear I saw before, and Jasper takes another deep breath before speaking.

"You are a paranoid one," he says, voice much deeper than before.

I knew it.

"Who are you, really?" I ask, jamming my cane further into his ear.

He only winces slightly, before composing himself and meeting my threat with a grim smile.

"I am as I said, a simple pony in search of history. Skydark is an old land. There are many secrets buried here. Secrets that I would unearth, in my own search for greatness."

Satisfied, I remove my cane from his ear and step back, allowing him to stand. He nurses his rib and groans as he climbs back to his hooves and settles in his chair again.

"The townsfolk spoke of you." Jasper sighs, glaring at me through a black eye as he leans back in the chair. "The mad old stallion of the woods, they called you. I was told to be careful, that you were suspicious and untrusting by nature. I paid little mind to their warnings. I thought them exaggerations. Now I see, if anything, they were understating how cautious you are."

My lips pull into a thin line as I take the other seat again, keeping a grip on my cane as I do.

"You are not one of the creatures," I say, plainly. "But creatures, still, there are. Skydark is infested with them. I don't know what dark purpose draws you here, stranger, or why you wear the masks you do, but take my advice. Leave. And don't come back. No good can come of meddling with the forces that dwell in these lands."

Jasper raises a hoof and wipes the blood from his muzzle.

"I appreciate your concern," he says dryly. "But I cannot turn back now. I have walked this path too far, sacrificed too much to get here. Before I go, I must see the Barrows."

I take a sharp breath and lean forward in my chair, balancing on my cane. "What is it you seek in the Barrows, boy?"

"A dead god." Jasper smiles, bearing his teeth. "The dead god."

He must have anticipated my answer, or else noticed the look of recognition upon my face, because his grin widens before I give my response.

"...Duroc," I grumble. "You seek the tomb of Duroc."





The kettle whistles upon my stove, and I sullenly pour the water out into a pair of cups as my guest waits at the kitchen table. It's been many years since I've had another in my home. The feeling of preparing a second cup is almost alien to me after so long.

"Once, there was a great and terrible demon who ravaged this world with chaos," I say as I place the kettle down and begin stirring. "Nopony could stop him, or slow him. He couldn't be bargained or reasoned with. He couldn't even be hurt. But one pony came close. A great wizard, whose talent gave him command over time itself, supposedly trapped this demon in a loop of endless time, and himself along with him."

"You speak of Discord, and Star Swirl the Bearded," says Jasper. "I see you are also a scholar of history."

I approach the table and place his cup down alongside mine.

"Yes," I say, taking a seat beside him. "But not even that was sufficient to hold the demon. He broke free of his prison, and when he did, he was furious with the wizard. So furious, in fact, that he cursed him and his bloodline, marking them with a brand that would attract tragedy and misfortune wherever they went, so that Star Swirl's descendents would remember his folly for always and eternity, and forever scorn him for it."

Jasper smiles slightly, lifting his cup into the air with a silvery glow and taking a satisfied sip.

"The Mark of Chaos, yes. I know the legend."

I turn and pull my mane aside to show him the back of my neck, and his eyes go wide.

"It is no legend." I run my hoof down to feel the spiral-shaped mark there, which singes as I touch it. "Chaos and tragedy follow me, as they have followed everypony of Star Swirl's line since the days of antiquity. Those who bear this mark are cursed, and the cursed lead short lives. My father bore this mark, and he was murdered. My son also bore it, and he too... was taken from me. I have survived this far, but the things in this forest thirst for my blood. I hear them at my windows every night. This mark draws them to me."

I settle into my chair and lift the coffee to my lips, staring into the darkness of the steaming liquid for a moment before I take a drink.

"What are these creatures, then?" Jasper asks blithely. "Some demons of chaos? Restless ghosts from the Barrows?"

"In truth, I do not know," I answer. "But they are not of the Barrows. The things in Grimrise Hills are... different. But... I think them related. Not just to me, but to your quest as well."

Jasper gulps down most of his coffee at once, and sets the cup aside. Leaning over the table, he fixes me with a serious look.

"So tell me of them. What do you know of the Barrows, and of Duroc?"

I sigh and set down my own cup.

"I do not know much. I can only tell you what you likely already know. The Barrows were the graves of the dishonoured dead, rebels who fought with Nightmare Moon against Equestria's forces at the Battle of Oldfield. Their spirits surely still linger in these lands, and you can feel them, out on the moors. You can feel the hills watching you, with silent anger and loathing. They envy the living. Even the barely alive..."

Jasper nods quietly. I surmise that he knows what I'm talking about. The lights I saw across the moors earlier were doubtless him making his approach; he must have felt their presence on his way over.

"...I have... encountered the restless dead before," I continue, shifting in my seat. "In my younger years, I made a foolish mistake, one which angered them, and they saw fit to torment me for it with visions."

"What kinds of visions?" Jasper asks.

"Visions," I say, darkly. "Personal things, which I shall not share. But in time, I learned to block them. When I first came to this cabin, it had quite a substantial library, left by one of the previous occupants. Books, scrolls, journals, notes... all detailing everything their owner knew about the occult. My wife studied them first; she was more a scholar than I ever was. After she died, I took up the craft myself, to ward off the nightmares imparted by the spirits. I haven't had a vision from them in years. But... that's also how I know that the things in the forest are something different. My wards keep the ghosts far away. The things scratching at my walls at night, whatever they are... they are not ghosts."

"Something related to Duroc?"

"Possibly."

I take another quiet sip and contemplate the monsters. The cabin is unusually quiet now. All this time I've been speaking of the creatures, they haven't made a peep. I find it deeply unsettling. I can only hope that they were merely scared away by all the new wards I've been setting up, even if only temporarily. I don't want to consider what other games they might be playing.

"This library of yours..." says Jasper. "May I see it?"





I stand in the doorway, balancing on my cane as I watch the pink stallion poring through my wife's old books. He sits hunched over at the reading desk, a stack of books on one side, a lit candle on the other, staring intently at the pages in front of him.

"Fascinating..." he mutters. "These wards... If I'm not mistaken, some of them look as if they were designed specifically for a being like Duroc."

"How does a mortal create a ward to fend off a god?" I ask sardonically.

"With great care and precision..." Jasper lovingly strokes the pages of the book. "Duroc was said to be a god of death. To fight off his influence, one builds their wards with the essence of life."

I think back to all the animals I've slaughtered over the years in my quest to secure my home. It was always their blood I needed most. The essence of life, indeed. Quite ironic that I needed to kill them to obtain it.

"Who was it that owned this cabin before you?" asks Jasper, flipping to the next page.

"It was abandoned when we moved in."

"Hrrm... Whoever they were, they were obviously quite knowledgeable. No mere forest warden would need tomes like these. I do wonder... if this cabin's previous inhabitant might have had something to do with Duroc. Perhaps they were a worshipper? Or perhaps they were the one to slay him. Either way, somepony would have had to bury him."

"But what could kill a god of death?" I ask, pacing across the study.

"What indeed? But something must have, else his grave would not be here. Perhaps your mysterious creatures were responsible?"

I frown as I consider the wards again. Blood wards. Some designed to hold off the power of the god of death. Some effective against ghosts. Some effective against the creatures of Skydark. What is the connection?

"Hmm... I shall need to study these tomes further upon the morn." Jasper closes the book and stands. "And I must see the Barrows as well, preferably in daylight hours."

I snort.

"Study all you wish. As long as you do not interfere with my own plans, I care not one whit for what you do. But I have supplies enough for only one. If you plan to stay here while you work towards whatever dark designs drive you, I insist that you make use of yourself."

Jasper sits in the middle of the room, fixing me with a steady, neutral expression.

"Name your terms, old one."

"Your back, to carry my firewood. Your horn, to defend this cabin. Your blood, to strengthen these wards. And your compliance, for my peace of mind."

He raises a single eyebrow.

"Compliance?"

I step back out into the main room briefly, and return shortly after with a coil of rope and a small metal ring, which I drop on the floor before him.

"For as long as you keep your distance and do not lie to me, I shall have no quarrel with you, but do not take that to mean I trust you, stranger. If we are to sleep under the same roof, I demand that you do so tied down to the bed and your horn restrained. I will not have you prowling in the night while I am defenceless."

Jasper stares down at the rope for a moment, looks up at me, and smirks.

"My, my, you are demanding." His horn lights, and he lifts the ring close as if to inspect it. "Very well. If those are your terms, then I accept. Do we have an accord?"

He holds out a hoof. I spit in mine and take his, as the smile slips from his face.

He will betray me. I know he shall. The only question is when.