Luster Point snorted, his face turning to glare at the disguised changeling next to him. It had been nearly three months since he had been killed. Since this vile, conniving creature next to him had slain him in cold blood with a quick stab to the back of the head.
“Keep moving, Fire Fight.” he ordered, the transformed changeling in front of him whipping his head around to stare him in the face, a look of intense fear nearly dripping from him.
“Y-Yes sir. I... I just needed a moment...” Fire Fight stammered, a nervous, involuntary twitch accompanying every other word. He hurriedly continued his brisk pace, a slight limp in his back right leg.
A product of his time at the claws of the archlich, no doubt.
Impressive, seeing as his body was reportedly in pieces before his resurrection.
Luster Point looked up at the expansive ceilings of Canterlot Castle, his mind racing.
When he swore an oath to protect and serve his prince and princess when they left for the Frozen North, he would never have imagined that his service would involve him breaking his vows to the solar princess he once served.
Yet here he was, an undead soldier in service to his prince (now king), transferred back to Canterlot under the guise of a lowly maintenance worker in the castle. His assignment was vague, but his purpose was to be a sort of sleeper agent, to await further orders from his lord.
The promise of being able to see his family again after his assignment was more than enough reward to compensate his efforts. Not to mention the fact that he was literally allowed a second chance at life.
But still...
He just wished his partner in crime wasn’t the pony who had snuffed out his life to begin with...
.........
Nightmare snickered internally, barely silencing herself as she watched from her shadowy corner of Celestia’s chambers as a distraught Prince Blueblood got turned down by his precious ‘Auntie’.
He had asked the solar alicorn for another increase in his already generous allowance, which was of course denied rather swiftly, seeing as he had squandered what he was given this week on finery and dining.
“But auntie...” Blueblood whined, stamping his hooves like a child. This got an audible snicker, but not from her. Her master’s brother walked into view, skeletal hooves clacking against the marble floors of the sun princess’ bedroom.
“I said no, nephew.” Celestia tiredly said for the third time. The solar alicorn looked quite different than she normally did, seeing as her eyes were nearly obscured by bags, her lack of sleep as of late showing. Her wings were unkempt and messy, feathers misaligned and crooked, not yet preened for the day’s court.
But the most glaring difference was her mane. The usually vibrant aurora of colors was marred by sleep deprivation, it’s colors visibly darkened and greyed from stress.
“Don’t you have anything better to do, Blueblood?” Lal’theron poked, stepping up to stand by his almost comically larger marefriend. His form was mostly covered in ceremonial tapestries and robes, but his face was still visible, which the prince quickly recoiled at, disgust clearly visible on his muzzle.
“Auntie, why must you insist on... that... thing, being here?” Blueblood complained, discussions of his allowance now gone from his head.
The solar princess sat in shock for several moments, not exactly sure what to say, the unprovoked insult clearly scrambling her mind. Her face contorted from rage, to sadness, to stress, but eventually just settled on shock. Lal’theron, however, was quite passive about the remark, not seeming to care in the slightest.
Suddenly, seemingly without a single ounce of remorse, a cracking slap of metal-clad hoof on bone echoed through the solar alicorn’s chambers, Blueblood’s limp body slamming into the bookshelf several feet behind him, out cold from Celestia’s slap. Her hoof slowly fell to the floor below her, a spatter of blood decorating the golden slipper adorning it.
Silence for several moments...
Celestia let out a single, distraught, whimpering cry.
"W-what have I done?" Celestia choked, her eyes wide as she took in the still form of her unconscious nephew. The blood from his obviously shattered nose poured from his nostrils, staining the brilliant orange and yellow carpet red. Lal'theron rushed to Blueblood's side alongside his companion, his magic probing the still prince's body for a pulse. The revenant let out a sigh of relief as he turned to his marefriend, whose tears were now flowing freely from her eyes.
"He's fine, Tia. just knocked out..." Lal'theron consoled, lifting the prince in his magic, before carefully giving him over to the solar alicorn, who's visage softened immediately.
“Oh... thank goodness...”
Celestia sniffled once, accepting her nephew’s limp body, before a switch in her brain clicked, and it was as if this was a natural occurrence. Her serene smile returned, her mane regained a bit of its usual vibrant coloring, and even the bags under her eyes seemed less oppressive.
The monarch turned to the door to her room, walking out of sight of Nightmare, Lal’theron following behind her.
That’s it!?
No attempt to console, nothing?
Nightmare was a bit perplexed already by the seemingly alien reaction by Celestia, but the way she shrugged it off...
Something was wrong...
VERY wrong...
An echoing slam caught her attention, the alicorn returning her gaze to the...
Lal’theron was staring right at her...
RIGHT at her...
Lal’theron’s eyes dimmed to empty sockets, his head straightening on it’s bony neck.
With an echoing rumble that shook the walls, and a presence that darkened the room to near pitch black, Lal’theron spoke with an oily, eerily calm voice that wrenched itself from the back of Nightmare’s memories...
A voice that was clearly not his own...
”Hello... my child...”
.........
”Did you think you could... hide from me?”
Nightmare’s thoughts went blank, and her form felt ooze-like, like she were made of molten lead. Her voice came out in a stammer.
“W-who are y-you?” she shivered, the mare’s innermost fears, fears she didn’t even remember she had, racing to the front of her mind.
For once, she was the one feeling fear...
”It is... troubling... that you do not remember...”
“Your master...”
With a force that felt neither magical nor physical, Nightmare’s form was restored as she was wrenched from the wall like a rag doll, and thrown to the ground before Lal’theron, invisible limbs that felt like living tar holding her down to the marble floor before the revenant.
“What a-are you?” Nightmare whimpered, the fear of the creature before her feeling so... raw, to the alicorn.
Like opening an old wound.
Even if she couldn’t remember what exactly was speaking to her, it’s power and influence was so... familiar...
”I am the force... behind all living creatures...”
“The force that influences the winds of uncertainty...”
Lal’theron leaned down to the struggling mare, his eyes igniting with a ghastly, haunting yellow.
”I... am... chaos...”