The two men stood alone in the massive throne room. One wore a suit of brilliant golden armor, the other a suit of blackened steel. One pair of eyes was filled with determination, the other pity. The golden man stood in front of a window as the sunlight pierced the clouds and filled the room with glaring light. In his hands was a broken and twisted sword but his eyes did not waver. When he spoke his voice was certain.
The blackened man laughed as he pulled his scabbard from his back. His voice was soft and contemptuous as he pulled the hilt free to show that his sword had no blade. With pity in his eyes the man threw the hilt to the ground between them and strode forward.
The golden man was confused. His eyes, once full of determination, were now filled with doubt and fear. He struck out at the blackened man with his sword but found it turned aside contemptuously.
The blackened man placed his hands upon the shoulders of the golden one and spoke again. His voice filled with both hatred and pity. He pushed the golden man and watched as he fell out the window and landed in a heap of broken bones and torn flesh at the bottom of the tower. The golden man had not screamed.
The surviving man turned suddenly to face the room at large. “Would you like me to translate for you or can you do that on your own?”
The room swirled and fell apart into purple mist as a voice echoed around the void. “How didst thou know we were here?”
The man smiled. He hadn’t known, but with no one around to catch him if he had been wrong he had called out similar catcalls several times through the night.
“We see. It was merely a lucky guess.”
The man cursed. “So the great Princess Luna can hear one’s thoughts as well?” He smiled sourly. “Twilight didn’t mention that.”
“So thou dost know who we are, tis an interesting turn of events.” The mist slowly coalesced into the form of the lunar princess. “We must admit we didn’t know what to expect of you Damien.”
He smiled. “I aim to surprise,” he said with a bow. “How much have you seen so far?”
“We have seen only your latest memory. Who was that man you killed?”
“That one was Roland. No last name.” He sighed as he waved at the mists and they coalesced into a graveyard. In front of them was a simple tombstone, on its front were engraved the words ‘Roland: Born a man. Died a fool’. “The boy was given a prophecy, ‘When evil draws its blade, your victory is at hand’. A simple enough prophecy to deny, wield a sword with no blade. No drawn blade, no prophesied victory. No conquering hero.”
“Thou seem distraught by his failure.”
“By his failure? No. I will do what I must to survive.” He turned to face Luna. “Even if it means facing down goddesses and princesses. I am… distraught… by Fate. She was always bound to be what she was seen to be, the curse of godhood. But that never excused the blood that was on her hands, on my hands. Thousands of heroes were sent to kill me by her decree. Thousands were killed. The dead inspired the living and added to the lure of fame that was being the one to kill the Dark Lord Damien. All her machinations strip her pawns of their free will and very few are able to take it back.”
“And thou were equal to the task?”
“I’m still alive aren’t I?” He waved his hand and the dreamscape shifted to a replica of his new house, his form to that of his new body. “But let’s get down to business. I don’t like you or your sister. I doubt that anything you can do will change that. Yet you know of me. What happens next?”
Luna seemed pleasantly surprised at the directness of Damien’s question. “It is not often we are dealt with so… directly. More often our supplicants ply us with their honeyed words and empty gestures. It takes all day for them to admit they want something.”
“Yet another reason to hate the noblility, and the gods I suppose. But that doesn’t answer my question. What now?”
“Now we will watch you. You have no need for classes on how to fit into Equestria and you seem to know well enough that you are expected to live here peacefully.”
“A peaceful retirement would be preferable. I have no intention of ruining my chances of actually being able to relax.”
“But you are dangerous. What little we have seen shows that in abundance. Were you to return to your old ways-”
He waved a claw dismissively. “I would be destroyed by you and your sister. I’ve been given such threats before. Albeit by gods that are far less… hooves on than you. If nothing else you can trust me to ensure my own survival. A survival that would end abruptly if I angered either of you.” He leaned forward. “Given about three or four hundred years I might be able to defend myself against you well enough to risk such a thing but that would only put me right back to what I came here to escape.”
“Thou doth believe that thy power can match ours?” Luna asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Now? Physically? Not in the slightest. Here in my own mind it might be a different matter though.” As he said this his eyes locked on Luna’s and the dreamscape around them trembled and shook.
The mists shot back and forth as they tried to assume the shapes of weapons and defenses, each one torn apart as soon as they were made. Soon the changes became traumatic scenes from the minds of the combatants. The barren moon, an empty cave, a white alicorn surrounded by six gems, an elaborate tombstone.
As quickly as it started it stopped and the mists resumed their languid milky appearance. Both Damien and Luna kept their eyes locked on one another as he gestured to a small table that had appeared next to them. “Tea?”
If Luna was surprised by the table’s sudden appearance she didn’t show it. Accepting the proffered cup with a nod she inspected Damien again. “It is not often we meet one so capable of mental combat,” she said offhandedly.
“In my world magic is the art of enforcing your will on reality. A weak minded mage doesn’t make it very far.”
They both sipped at their tea cautiously, each one eyeing their opponent carefully.
“Why didst thou choose to be a griffon?”
Damien wiggled his claws in the air between them with a wry grin. “Fingers. I can’t imagine giving them up by becoming a pony.” He paused for a moment. “The prehensile tail and wings were also a good bonus.”
Luna chuckled loudly. “We would imagine.” She set her cup of tea on the empty air. “You shall be allowed to stay in Ponyville for the time being. We will return to your dreams quite often to learn more of your history and our agents will still observe you during the daylight hours.”
Damien gave a small bow of acceptance. “A small price to pay for peace.”
Luna bowed in return and dissolved into mist.
<-[XXXXX]->
Damien woke the moment Luna left his dream. His body was covered in a sheen of sweat and every muscle ached as though he had run all day and fought a war all night.
“Pit damned goddess-princesses!” he grumbled under his breath as he shifted in his bed and threw off the covers. “Going to need more wards. A lot more wards.” He slowly resettled himself in his bed, not bothering with the covers, new designs for wards meant to increase one’s ability to fend off mental aggressors already swirling in his head.
<-[XXXXX]->
Luna opened her eyes with a smile. Her body ached but it was the good steady ache from a heavy exercise. Damien had done a good job disguising his fatigue and his method of ending the mental fight had been a masterstroke. If the fight had gone on much longer he would have definitely lost; ending the competition there had let him claim victory, no matter how small or hollow. He would have to be watched. Closely. But for the moment she seriously doubted that he was going to be causing trouble in the near future, not for centuries if his estimates were to be believed.
She levitated a roll of parchment, a quill, and an inkpot over to herself with a pensive look on her face. The quill slowly levitated into the inkpot as Luna worked out what to write and who to write it too. With a look of inspiration she levitated another piece of parchment over to herself and began writing two letters. Within minutes the two complete letters sat before her, their ink drying in night air. As soon as they were done Luna closed her eyes in concentration and the letters burst into flames. Their ashes swirled into the air and vanished into the night.
<-[XXXXX]->
Damien slept in the next morning and woke with a smile. He padded up to the window and beamed happily at the sun. “Ha! Can’t wake me up anymore now can you!” he gloated at the sun. “I have wards! Wards that make your insane sun magic completely quiet! I win you overpowered sun goddess!” Nearly ten minutes of happy gloating later Damien left his room to get started with the day.
In time he eventually made his way down the stairs to find Gilda rummaging around in the fridge. “And how is my favorite griffon boarder today?” he asked as he opened a pantry. Preservation wards. That’s what the kitchen needs! Make sure nothing ever spoils in here!
“You are way too happy freak.”
“Girl, it would be impossible to not be happy when one feels they have denied the power of the gods, no matter how small their defiance may be,” he said with a sage look. “Get the eggs out while you’re over there.” He paused a moment. “Some spinach and some mushrooms too,” he called as he pulled out a loaf of bread and an onion and carried them over to the counter.
Gilda contemplated glaring at him but thought better of it. “What’re ya making?” she asked as she brought over the requested items.
“Omelets!” he said with a massive grin as he washed his claws carefully. He paused a moment to admire his work then began to dice the vegetables.
“You’re putting those in an omelet?” Gilda asked with a sneer.
“I find it quite tasty,” he said haughtily as he looked over his work so far.
“Make mine with just eggs.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Who said I was making anything for you?”
“I… well… I got you your eggs and crap.”
“Not good enough. You need to say it.”
“What?”
“Saaaaaaayyyyyy iiiiiiiiit,” he almost sing songed as he placed a skillet on the stove and lit the burner.
“I- You-” She sighed. “Will you please make me an omelet?”
“I would be honored my dear.” He smiled and splashed a generous portion of oil into the pan. “So how did your day go yesterday?” he asked as he cracked eggs into the skillet.
She glared at him for several moments before responding, “I followed Pinkie’s advice a bit.”
“And?”
“And I ran into Fluttershy, helped her with her shopping, ran into Rainbow Dash and we’re meeting up later today happy?!”
“Exceedingly.”
The two were silent for several moments as he continued to work the skillet with one hand and cut some generous slices of bread with the other.
“I’m surprised you cook,” Gilda finally said to break the silence.
“If you live as long as I have and are more or less stuck in one place for long enough you start to either take up hobbies or go mad. Madness leads to a quick death and learning to cook leads to an enjoyable pastime. Not a hard choice.” He smiled as he eased an omelet onto a plate and placed it on the table. “Your completely plain and boring omelet is ready.”
Gilda sighed and padded over to the table. “Thanks,” she muttered half-heartedly.
Damien’s eyes widened. “You really are taking her advice to heart.” He shook his heading wonder as he turned away from the table.
“Well it worked alright. The psycho might actually be onto something,” she grumbled as she started in on her omelet.
“More flies with sugar and all that,” Damien said as he stated cracking more eggs into the skilled and dumping his extra ingredients in as well.
As Gilda had finished her breakfast Damien returned to the table with his own omelet and several slices of bread heavily laden with butter. When Gilda started to leave the table he spoke up, “be sure to take care of your dishes.”
She stared at him for a few moments before reluctantly taking her dishes over to the sink and giving them a quick cleaning. “That good enough?”
“It’ll do. Now go have fun with all your little pony friends.”
She rolled her eyes. “Whatever freak. Later.”
Damien smiled as he watched her leave. He still had to work out the whole rent thing but securing the house was far more important and he didn’t want her underfoot while he worked. But that was the future and the present involved a delicious omelet. Well that and ideas for enchantments to automatically clean the dishes. Now to engrave them on the counter or on the sink, that was the question. He smiled contentedly as he took a massive bite out of a slice of bread, long strings of sigils dancing through his mind.
<-[XXXXX]->
Gilda leapt lazily into the air as soon as she left the house. She had barely flown at all yesterday, not wanting to attract Dash’s attention and being grounded either by groceries or land-bound ponies all day. It wasn’t until she cleared the rooftops of Ponyville that she realized how much she had missed flying, even if only for a day.
She still had a good hour or two to kill before she was supposed to meet Dash. An hour or two she intended to use flying. Even when she had been living in the Everfree she hadn’t really been able to fly. She’d always had to make sure she wasn’t too noticeable so no one would come looking for her. Her heart sang as she poured on the speed and twisted through the air. It had been way too long since she had done any real flying.
She had just pulled off a rather impressive bit of trick flying when she heard the cheering. Her eyes shone with pride as she scanned the ground beneath her for her adoring fan. Her expression froze when she saw Pinkie Pie cheering and waving at her.
Stifling a groan she let herself slow and landed a couple yards from the waving pink pony. “You want something?”
“You were nice yesterday!”
Gilda blinked in confusion. “What?”
“You were nice to Fluttershy and said sorry and Dashie forgave you and everything is better!”
“…How did you know that?”
“Silly Gilda, Dashie told me when she asked me and everypony else to hang out today!” Pinkie paused, putting her hoof to her chin. “Wait… was I not supposed to tell you that? Dash didn’t make me Pinkie Promise so I guess I’m allowed to tell you.”
As Pinkie continued to ramble Gilda’s eyes were narrowing. “I thought it would just be us today, not any of her other friends.”
Pinkie stopped rambling and looked Gilda right in the eye, a surprisingly serious expression on her face. “Dashie is testing you. Last time you were all angry about her having other friends and she wants to make sure that you won’t be a Jealous McClingygriffon.”
Gilda blinked in shock. “And Dash just told you all this?”
“Of course not silly! But it was sooooooo obvious!” She gasped suddenly. “We should throw you a Welcome to Ponyville Party!”
“You- I- What-” Gilda rubbed her forehead. “No. You already threw me a party.”
Pinkie was silent for a moment. “Oh! No that was a Break Gilda up with Dash Party. This is a different kind of party!” She leaned in and whispered, “this kind of party is better.” She gave a massive wink before returning to her earlier position.
Gilda was speechless for a moment. “You threw one when Damien showed up. I was there too,” she said with an air of desperation.
“No!” Pinkie shouted as she grabbed Gilda’s face. “You NEED a party of your own!”
Gilda felt herself backing away from the crazed earth pony. “No I-”
“You do!” She gasped again. “I should set up the party for when we all meet up today! No, after Dashie finishes testing you! It can be a welcome party and a congratulations party all at once! Double the party for triple the fun!”
Before Gilda could say anything else Pinkie shot off with a speed that impressed even the stunt flying griffon.
<-[XXXXX]->
Damien smiled as he painted the last sigil onto the frame of the pantry and breathed in the acrid smoke. As a final precaution he slowly moved his eyes along the minute script, reading the complex spells aloud and feeling the words leave tingling traces of power on his tongue. When the last word rumbled from his throat he reached out and dismissed the shield that surrounded him.
Once again waves of smoke billowed out away from him. He smiled contentedly when the silence continued, unpierced by the shrill buzzing of the day before. Part of him had been worried that there might have been other smoke detecting enchantments on the house that would have become live with the destruction of the smoke detectors. He strained his ears for several minutes for the sounds of anything that might break the blessed silence.
His vigilance was rewarded, not by the piercing trill of an alarm but a hesitant knocking noise. He looked around confusedly as his mind slowly put two and two together.
“Hold on! On my way!” he shouted as he waved away the smoke and headed towards the door and the continuing knocking. Within seconds he managed to reach the door and threw open the deadbolt. He unconsciously steeled himself as he opened the door, part of him mind expecting an attack. Old habits take more than a single day to defeat after all. His eyes widened slightly as he saw the white unicorn at the door. “Ah, Miss Rarity, I wasn’t expecting to see you so soon, come right in. It’s a pleasure to see you again.”
“Thank you Damien,” she said politely as she stepped across the threshold. Her nose wrinkled slightly at the smell permeating the house but she remained silent on the subject.
“Are you here to let me pay you back or have you graced me with your presence for some other reason?”
Rarity smiled slightly at his question before answering. “I suppose I am. Rainbow Dash was insistent about gathering us all up for something later today but today also happens to be my day to watch the Crusaders for Applejack. We do try to keep them under control when we can after all. Therefore I find myself in need of a… babysitter if you will. Since Sweetie Belle mentioned you in passing yesterday I figured you might be able to watch them.” She smiled sheepishly.
“But of course m’lady! I would be honored to assist you in your time of need! I do, after all, owe you for your marvelous work.” Damien bowed with a flourish. “When can I expect them?”
Rarity seemed surprised that he had agreed so readily to watch the crusaders. Either he took his debts really seriously or he had no idea what he was getting into. “I… believe they had planned to meet up at Carasoul Boutique for lunch and then were going to…. Crusade for their cutie marks.”
“Very well then! Send them over here when they meet at your house, I will provide a meal and then the crusading can begin!”
“Thank you so much for your assistance Damien, I do hope they won’t be too much of a bother.”
“Oh please, wha-” He stopped mid-sentence before muttering, “didn’t finish it. Doesn’t count. Didn’t finish it. Doesn’t count.”
“Ah, are you alright?”
“No idea! Could have just doomed myself right there though. How closely does this world follow narrative causality anyway?”
Rarity just stared in confusion at him.