Chapter I: Rahgol
"Yes! Everything's going to be just fine!" Twilight Sparkle triumphantly declared as she soared off into the sunset, her hopes carrying her higher than any breeze. She did not feel the weight of a trillion blistered eyes gazing upon her with otherworldly discontent as she celebrated her coronation, not the subtle rocks of anger that gently quaked throughout Equestria.
Hermaeus Mora had witnessed the ebbs of destiny turn and tide toward its unwanted conclusion.
From Apocrypha, the writhing mass of tentacles and deep eyes that claimed a wealth of knowledge not known to even his most powerful brothers and sisters of Oblivion saw everything. From Twilight's birth he had delighted in her quirky adventures, heart-breaking hardships, and placid moments of serendipity. Much to his infinite shame, he had devoted so much attention to enjoying the activities of the pony that he did not see her break from the web of destiny until it was even beyond his power.
"This...is an undesirable outcome." the wretched abyss of sapient horrors hissed from his unholy verge. Untold pages swirled around the terrible greatness as his anger flowed throughout Oblivion. His loyal Keepers quaked in fear, and the Lurkers screamed in pain from inside their slick, green pools.
In truth, which he possessed in the highest quantity, he admitted to a certain kinship with the lilac unicorn whose scholarly nature and meticulous search for arcane knowledge reminded the deadric lord much of himself. With the swing of one of his massive tentacles and a bellow that would shatter the sanity of any mortal, the god summoned his most powerful Keeper.
The creature appeared out of a dark wetness that emerged from the dry, black books that made up so much of what could be considered floors of Apocrypha. "I am your servant, slave, and tool, Hermaeus Mora. What do you wish of me?"
"Niagu," he soothed in the greyest of shameful and horrible purrs, "I seek not your consul, but your opinion. What do you make of Twilight Sparkle's transformation into an alicorn?"
The Keeper thought of this for a moment, delving into its vast intellect to pull out an answer that most agreed for every page of every book of every library that had ever passed in front of its un-eyes. Finally, Niagu produced an answer.
"Twilight Sparkle's progress into that of an alicorn is the most logical conclusion. The fates, stars, and premonitions of the sun and moon goddess produced a line of reasoning that could only result in one outcome. In her quest for knowledge, she has become more."
Hermaeus Mora did not immediately reply.
"Are you truly that unenlightened?" the deadra replied after a great silence. "Have you taken my gifts for granted? In all the time you have spent crawling through my great library, did you read even the most insignificant and unworthy of my tomes? Can you not even begin to wonder why Twilight Sparkle is the best pony, and this destiny unfolding before us is not remotely tolerable?"
Niagu recoiled. "I—I don't understand."
The murky waters below them erupted, and Niagu was immediately seized by hundreds of slimy tentacles.
Hermaeus Mora looked down upon his servant. "No. You do not. Begone."
The Keeper screamed as the tentacles dragged it down into the depths, until the servant existed no more.
Hermaeus Mora once again directed his attention towards the unfolding destiny of Twilight Sparkle. "I believe that more...substantial help is required if I am to adjust this error."
Felvos Garil. The Last Dragonborn. The Thane of Whiterun. The destroyer of Lord Harkon, the slayer of the vile Miraak, and one who defeated Alduin the World-Eater...was sleeping off a drinking binge in Breezehome. He tossed in his sleep, the werewolf blood already agitated by the numerous and possibly poisonous drinks he had gulped down during the night.
Eventually, the Dark Elf started from his sleep. He rubbed his eyes as he sat up, and groggily walked downstairs to fix himself something to eat. He wished Lydia was still alive; then again, there was never much hope for survival for people shouted off the Throat of the World by Alduin.
As Felvos descended the stairs, he heard the most curious chanting, and the sound of grinding wood. He withdrew his trusty dagger Nettlebane from one of his boots, and slowly proceeded the rest of the way down. When he touched the bottom step, he took not time to get a take for his surroundings and immediately conjured a shout.
"Mul Qah Diiv!"
A orange fire surrounded Felvos as he took on the aspects of the mighty dragons. In this form, he was nearly invincible, and any intruder within his home would find that he was no common noble to rob blind.
Instead, he found his house entirely in order. Still, he kept his dagger up in preparation of an ambush.
"Who's there? Show yourselves!" he demanded, and spun around to check his backside. When he turned back to the entrance of his house, he dropped Nettlebane.
There, sitting on the floor, was one of the Black Books of Hermaeus Mora. It glowed black with putrid and forbidden intelligence, beckoning Felvos further in. The Dark Elf looked around his home.
"By Azura, why's this thing here?"
"It is foolish to answer a question when the answer is already known, Felvos Garil." a taunting, sleepy voice answered.
Felvos looked back at the book. "Hermaeus Mora?"
The Dark Elf backpedaled when a black mass of tentacles and eyes emerged from where the front door was. An eye larger than any of the others surfaced from the sea of madness.
"Yes, my champion. It is I, purveyor of all things in both mind, and beyond."
Felvos sighed; it wasn't like Mora to be so upfront in contacting him. "What do you want? I already killed Miraak and I read that bloody book of yours made out of elf skin!"
"You service me well. I simply require another task of you. Pick up the book, read it, and we will discuss this matter further. I do promise that in the end, you will be most handsomely rewarded."
Ever since he had slain Alduin, the thing that the Dragonborn feared the most had come to pass: he had become bored. It had been months since he had slain a dragon, and months before that since any dragon posed a challenge to him.
"Alright," Felvos said and he put Nettlebane on the fireplace, "But this better be worth it." The Dark Elf sat down and placed the heavy book on his lap, and cautiously cracked it open to reveal the moving dark text inside. At the glimpse of the first sentence, three green appendages seized his skull, and his essence was dragged into Apocrypha.
Felvos regained awareness in the great library of Hermaeus Mora, with the great black eye of the deadra lord himself peering down upon him.
"Welcome back to my realm, Dragonborn." the god soothed.
"Yeah, yeah. So what's this you want? You gotta another upstart lackey that needs a claymore in his ribs?"
"An upstart of sorts, yes. My task will be quite different from the ones I have set you upon in the past."
"Look, I did some things I'm not very proud of to get the Oghma Infinium. It's not anything like that, is it?"
A dark, bubbly laughed flowed from the darkness from which Hermaeus Mora spoke. "Oh, quite the opposite. In fact, I do believe that you will even enjoy my task, perhaps even revel in it."
"Alright, I'll bite. What's this great quest you're gonna send me on?"
The great eye turned its gaze toward the green, toxic skies of Apocrypha. The cloud condensed and soon images not of their world began to play in front of them.
"What's all this? Are those horses?" Felvos dared ask.
All of Apocrypha shook when Hermaeus replied in annoyance. "NOT. HORSES. Ponies."
"Why are they talking? Why's that one pink?"
The eyeball continued to watch the images play. "There are many worlds that I do enjoy observing, but this one is by far my favorite. More specifically, I have watched the activities of the pony that is named Twilight Sparkle, and found her adventures to be most amusing. Even more amusing than your adventures, Dragonborn. But recently, this reality has deviated from the path that I so hoped it would stay on."
"Couldn't you just put it back?"
"The world is too far away for my...direct intervention. That is where you come into play, my champion. You will go there. You will prevent Twilight Sparkle from gaining those horrendous wings, and when you do so, you will be most handsomely gifted with my knowledge."
Felvos turned aside for a moment to give it thought, and quickly whipped back with his answer. "Alright, I'll do it. I've already done time travel once; this can't be any worse than reading an Elder Scroll."
"Indeed," the deadra replied, and Felvos yelped in surprise as one massive tentacle wrapped itself around him and covered his entire body. The Dark Elf's dragon aspect shout was immediately canceled as the tentacles did their horrid work.
"Perhaps I should have mentioned that your current body is...unattuned to the land called Equestria? A slight readjustment is necessary, and you shall answer to the name Greyfeather. I will be send to a place some time before Twilight's transformation. Do everything in your power to prevent it, hm?"
Hermaeus Mora kept his grip around the mortal until he felt the change was complete, and used his power to open the widest gateway to the magical horse land that he could. Much too large for his glorious form, but just the right size for a loyal servant. With one swing he threw the transformed Felvos into the hole, and turned back to the images in the clouds.
"Soon, Twilight Sparkle. Soon you will be free from your imposed royalty."
Consciousness slowly returned to Felvos as he attempted to get a hold on his surroundings. He was on a small green hill, and a large village lay in front of him. As his strength returned to him, he found the mettle to stand up.
On all fours.
He looked at his grey coat and frowned. "I really should have seen this coming."
"Seen what coming?" a shrill voice answered behind him.
He turned around to find a pink pony much like the one he had seen in Apocrypha mere inches from face.
"Also, I'm Pinkie Pie!" the pony continued, "And you must be new to Ponyville!"
The equine produced a large set of drums out of nowhere, and sang a long, drawn-out song of hospitality to the Dragonborn. When Pinkie was finished, she pulled out a cannon and shot herself in the face with a berry pie. The jam spelt out 'WELCOME TO PONYVILLE!" and she licked it off her face.
"There's usually fireworks too, but I ran out yesterday!" the pony cheerily said. "So, what you're name? Wait! You're from Cloudsdale, huh? All the pegasus ponies are from Cloudsdale! In fact, two of my best friends are—"
"Uh, Greyfeather. My name is Greyfeather."
"Oh!" Pinkie jumped, "There's a pony in Phillydelphia named Blackfeather! Are you two related! Huh huh huh?"
The Dragonborn missed Skyrim already.