“Could you explain to me one thing?”
“Certainly.”
“How in the Aspects’ name were such spells created in a world of peace-loving, colorful ponies?” Sindragosa asked as she studied the scroll she held in her claws, a spell enchanting the writing to be visible to her blind gaze.
Twilight found herself echoing the question in her thoughts, though perhaps not word-for-word. The spell was very complex, and it was a kind of magic that she had never encountered before. From what she managed to understand of it so far, it was undoubtedly fascinating… and horrifying.
The four of them were now in a circular chamber deep within the palace. It has been hours since they had written a letter for Spike to send to Brann, asking him to come to Equestria again, with archmage Khadgar if possible. Since then they had resumed speculating about who else from Azeroth could be brought back to life on Equestria. It had been a long discussion thanks to Arthas' extensive knowledge of many of Azeroth’s damned. Twilight was glad they had it, as now they were better prepared for the possibility of anybody else appearing than they had been with Sindragosa… but still, even hours later, she couldn’t help but shudder at the thought of some of the people they had talked about actually coming to Equestria.
“Although, I suppose even they would deserve a second chance,” she mused, not entirely believing her own statement.
She shook her head to banish those dark thoughts and focus on the present. Once they had finished their discussion, they left to eat and rest before the trip to the moon. Most of their friends that came with them to Canterlot had gone back to Ponyville, leaving only Twilight, Applejack, Rarity, Pinkie Pie, Rainbow Dash, Spike, Sindragosa, and Arthas with his paladins. The plan was that they would go together with Princess Luna to the moon and explore it, searching for… whatever it was that worried Arthas.
However, before they could do it, there had to be a ritual conducted on Arthas that couldn’t wait any longer.
“You’ll be surprised how often I had similar thoughts,” Arthas told the blind dragon before Princess Celestia could answer her question. “It’s really mind-boggling how many powerful spells and other things there are in this world, when you compare it to Azeroth.”
Twilight joined Celestia in giving him an annoyed look, then turned to listen eagerly to her mentor as she replied to Sindragosa’s question.
“The origin of this magic lies in the distant past. Very distant… and little known, thanks in no small part to a certain Spirit of Chaos,” the Princess added, glancing to the side; although the circular chamber had no windows, Twilight knew Celestia was looking in the direction of the castle’s garden, where the statue of Discord was.
Sindragosa’s blind gaze followed Celestia’s. “I have questions about that one, but they can wait for a later date,” she remarked.
“From what little record of those days remain,” Princess Celestia continued, “we know that the ancient unicorns were greatly interested in all kinds of magic, and especially in the ponies’ cutie marks. As a cutie mark is an innate part of a pony’s being, their attempts in discovering their nature lead them to, unintentionally, develop the magic that would affect a pony’s soul. Being as curious as they were, those ancient unicorns would study this magic as well, inventing some… uses for it,” the Princess remarked, frowning in dismay. Shaking her head, she added “Suffice to say that in time they also created this ritual that would allow mending a pony’s soul, and while it was meant to be used to reverse the effects of that magic, it should work just as well in Arthas’ case.”
“Yes, and I have to admit that the ‘should’ part makes me a bit uneasy,” Arthas commented, then turned to Sindragosa. “Do you think it’s safe?”
“As far as I can tell,” the blind dragon replied without turning back, still examining the scroll. Arthas frowned hearing the answer, and as if sensing that Sindragosa added “Even if it wasn’t, it couldn’t possibly do more damage to your soul than you already have done yourself.”
“That’s not exactly reassuring,” Arthas told her, his brow still furrowed. “And magic like this can destroy a soul.”
“Some would say oblivion would be preferable to one such as you,” Sindragosa remarked calmly, with a hint of amusement. “No more guilt, no more shame-”
“Whoever would say that is a bucking moron!” Twilight interrupted her angrily.
She then froze, realizing she cursed right in front of Princess Celestia, and glanced back at her, embarrassed. To her relief, the Princess seemed amused by her words as she walked around the chamber lighting the small pyres in preparation for the ritual.
Sindragosa waved her claws dismissively. “In any case, the spell should work as it’s intended to, you don’t have to worry about anything.”
Arthas uttered a sigh, but apparently, her answer satisfied him enough as he didn’t press the subject further. Twilight was glad to see him reassured as she herself believed there was nothing to worry about. While she wasn’t familiar with this magic enough aside from the quick glance she took, she was confident in Princess Celestia’s assessment.
“Still, the sooner we get it over with, the better,” Twilight thought, hurrying to help her mentor with the preparations.
Standing in the middle of the ritual circle, surrounded by incense and ethereal flames, Arthas took a deep breath. He still wasn’t thrilled about what was about to happen, but the damage the projection of Illidan had done to the portion of his soul that formed the Holy Avenger needed to be reversed before it could get worse.
“Especially considering everything else my soul has gone through,” Arthas remarked.
“Are you ready, Arthas?” Princess Celestia asked from the outer border of the circle.
“Yes ma’am,” he replied, raising his forehoof.
Holy Avenger appeared before him. Arthas, who hadn’t tried summoning it since his battle with Illidan’s image conjured by the Proving Grounds, frowned. The blade was flickering as if phasing between planes, and it was broken now in the middle, the other half hovering above the hilt.
Turning his eyes to Celestia, he watched as the alicorn’s horn started to glow with golden light. Lowering her head slightly, she let out a beam of magic that struck Holy Avenger first, and then him.
Arthas shuddered as the magic enveloped him. He didn’t feel pain, but it was still a strange sensation. He could feel a warmth inside of him, different from the Light, slowly spreading. As Arthas watched, the Holy Avenger stopped flickering and appeared stable now, except that it was slowly disappearing-
“What-” Arthas gasped inside the frozen hall, watching his disappearing forehoof.
From the other side of the table, Ner’zhul turned his white-painted head to him. Bolvar, sitting on the throne, looked down. Both wore expressions of utter shock.
“Arthas?” Bolvar asked, raising up.
“I don’t-” Arthas tried to reply, watching as more of his foreleg crumbled away into nothingness. The rest of his body started to face away as well. And yet… he wasn’t afraid, nor was he in pain. As if sensing his acceptance, the process sped up rapidly, with now his chest disappearing. “I think this is-”
Uttering a yell, Arthas grabbed his head. His mind felt as if overloaded with images and sounds, and where just a mere moment ago he felt warmth, he now felt deep cold.
He was barely aware of somebody calling his name. Everything around him, sounds and touch seemed distant. Grinding his teeth, Arthas tried to break through this fog of stupor, and with great effort, he opened his eyes.
Twilight and Celestia were leaning over him; he realized that he was lying on the floor.
“Arthas?!” Twilight repeated his name, this time more urgently.
“I’m here,” he replied, raising himself up to a sitting position.
“What happened?” Celestia asked, sounding concerned. “Restoring a soul could be a draining experience, but I hadn’t expected a reaction quite like that.”
“Did it even work?”
“Yeah, it did,” Arthas replied. He pressed a hoof to his chest. “I’m… here. Fully here. The ritual didn’t just restore the portion of my soul that formed Holy Avenger, it also restored to me the part of my soul that was bound to the Helm of Domination.” He looked up to meet the two mares’ eyes. “I’m… free from the Lich King.”
Twilight’s eyes brightened. “That’s great! Isn’t it?” she asked, noticing Arthas’ troubled expression.
He closed his eyes. “Yes, of course, it’s just… I’m going to need some time to… get used to this,” he finally said, not wanting to explain further just yet.
Fortunately, they didn’t want to press him. “Of course,” Princess Celestia said. “Perhaps it would be better if we would move your trip to the moon to a further date then.”
“Yes, I don’t think I’ll be of much help, assuming I could even take part in it.”
“Well,” Twilight spoke up, concern still in her voice but now tinged with humor, “Rarity will be happy about it, she hoped she and Storm Clash could use the opportunity to go on a date in Canterlot.”
Arthas murmured something in reply, not really paying attention. He struggled to contain the maelstrom of thoughts and memories surging in his mind while not betraying that something was wrong with him; he didn’t want to worry them, especially Twilight, until he got a grip of himself.
His eyes darted to Sindragosa. The young dragon had stayed where she was, by the chamber’s wall. Her blind gaze was directed at him, her expression studious. Arthas had an unpleasant feeling that she had figured out that there was more than he had told the ponies.
Fortunately, whatever she might know she didn’t share it with them yet. Instead, she merely turned around and started to walk toward the chamber’s doors. Rising to his hooves, Arthas started to follow after her, Twilight, and Celestia.
Before he could take more than two steps, though, something grabbed him by his hind leg. Arthas stopped, barely stopping himself from falling on his face, and turned his head.
There were shackles on his leg, with a long, jagged chain. Arthas’ eyes widened as his eyes followed the chain to the dark corner of the room, the walls metallic and twisted-
“Arthas?”
Arthas shook his head and turned to Twilight. The purple unicorn was looking at him from the exit. “Sorry, just spaced out,” he said with a weak smile and trotted forward.
The door closed behind him. Arthas walked through the small quarters he was given for his stay in Canterlot, glad to be alone. He jumped on the bed and sat down, then looked at his forehooves.
Out of nowhere, flames erupted. Arthas watched as his fur caught on fire, grinding his teeth from the pain.
“This isn’t real,” he hissed as the flames spread.
Chains shot out from the walls and shackles clamped on his forehooves, pulling them apart. Arthas grunted in pain; the sudden movement would have sent him down to the floor if it weren’t for those chains holding him.
“This isn’t real!” he repeated. With great difficulty, he raised his head to look up. “You’re not real!” His eyes hardened with hatred. “You still rot in the Maw!”