At the edge of the town of Ponyville, with its back framed by the outline of the Everfree forest, there stood a large tower of stone. The tower of challenges, as the locals had come to call it with time, was not only the home of the strange figure known as the necromancer, but it was also a place of wonder and mystery.
There was seemingly no end to the variety and number of the challenges and creatures living within it. Rooms of puzzles, rooms of illusion, rooms of delight, terror and bliss. One could only wonder what unknown treasures the tower was filled with.
Right now though... the tower was filled with laughter. The laughter of a good thousand imps, skeletons, demons and assorted monsters. The necromancer and his new apprentice had returned, with him wearing a set of white robes no less... and while the occasion seemed to be a joyful one, the necromancer was the only one that wasn't smiling. Not one bit.
---
"Uhm..." Pipsqueak wasn't quite sure how to ask. "Master?"
"Yes?" Aergad replied while he rubbed his temples in annoyance as the laughter continued to roar throughout the tower.
"Could it be..." Pipsqueak carefully asked. "Are you maybe unhappy with your new robes?"
"Maybe?" Xhergis commented with a smirk. "He's been fuming ever since we left Rarity's shop."
"Why? Is there something wrong with the robes?"
"Wrong isn't even close..." Aergad mumbled with a grim face. "The problem is that..." he was cut off as another wave of laughter shook the tower. "Hold on a second." the necromancer placed one of his fingers on his throat and mumbled a few words to himself. When he spoke again, his voice could be heard throughout the entire tower. "This is Aergad..." he paused and turned to Pipsqueak. "Kid, cover your ears."
Pipsqueak wasn't quite sure what why Aergad wanted him to cover his ears, but being a good student, he did as he was instructed. When he had covered his ears, the necromancer started talking again... and Pipsqueak couldn't help but wonder what he was saying.
The way he shook his free arm with a clenched fist, only to turn it into a choking hand every now and then... the speed with which his lips moved and the angry sneer that appeared on his face from time to time... Whatever it was he was saying, it seemed to work. When Aergad stopped talking and motioned him to uncover his ears again, the tower had gone deadly quiet.
Unseen by Pipsqueak and seated on top of his head, Xhergis' mouth had fallen open and a look of pure horror was now plastered onto her face.
---
In the entrance of the tower, a certain purple unicorn had been unfortunate enough to hear the necromancer's tirade. Once what she would forever remember as the most terrifying announcement of her life had ended, she simply stared at the path ahead for a moment... "Nope." turned around and headed straight back to Ponyville. "Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope." With each repetition of the word, her pace increased.
---
"Now." the necromancer leaned back in his chair with a small smile of victory. "Concerning your earlier question regarding my... new robes." he spoke the last words with clear discomfort. "The robes themselves are lovely. The quality is exquisite, they fit perfectly and they are comfortable and light. However..."
"However?" Pipsqueak tilted his head in confusion.
"The color!"
"The color?"
"Yes!" Aergad threw his hands in the air in desperation. "Of all the colors she could choose, she chose white! Why did it have to be white?!"
"What's wrong with white?" Pipsqueak asked.
Aergad sighed. "All right. You're new to this, so I'll explain it to you." he spread his hands. "Back where I come from, robes are more than just clothes. They not only signal your profession, but they also show which field of magic you practice. They show which guild you belong to, what other guilds you are affiliated to, who your enemies are and who are your allies. Based upon the simple color of your robes, you define who you are, what you are... and who's going to be wanting to plant a knife in your back."
He started to count with his fingers. "Red is for pyromancers and clerics... and they've been quarreling over who gets to use the color ever since Zhankar the Crimson boiled Lorkun the Pure in his own bathtub. Green is for apprentices and the tree huggers..." he saw Pipsqueak's confused face. "They use magic to control plants, but they mostly use it to grow... well, lets just say they're not anyone's concern as long as they have enough of their favorite mushrooms and weeds." a soft chuckle escaped him. "But boy can they get scary if they don't."
The necromancer continued. "Blue is for the water mages, light blue for the air wizards and deep blue for the rock shifters..." he gave Pipsqueak an amused glance. "Yeah, I know... they get along pretty well though. At least as long as you don't put them in one room. The rock shifters are allied with the pyros, but they like dropping rocks on clerks... lots of accidental rockslides caused by red robes there... The water treaders are of course in conflict with the pyros, but both of them dislike the storm callers... they wear gray, by the way."
"Okay..." Pipsqueak tried to memorize the colors. "And what about the air wizards?"
"They tag along with the storm callers." Aergad waved a dismissive hand. "Though they mostly spend their time staring at clouds." he scratched his head. "Now where was I? Oh, yes! Golden is for the zealots of Drakh'tar, mostly stick to themselves and collect artifacts. Yellow is for the sun praisers... don't get them confused with the Drakh or they'll give you a sunburn down to your bones. Purple is for shape shifters, crazy bunch those guys. Love to annoy the air heads to no end, mostly end up stabbing one another though."
Aergad titled his head slightly. "Let's see... what else. Well, black is of course reserved for the necromancers. There was a cult of shadow mages..." he sighed. "Sadly for them, they got into a lot of trouble with both the pyros and the sun praisers... and that was the end of them. These days, black is just for necromancers. We get along well with the pyros, we blast the damn clerics... and everybody else is usually smart enough to avoid us or at least come at us in numbers."
"So... what does white stand for?" Pipsqueak finally asked.
"White..." the necromancer replied with a heavy voice. "White is the chosen color of the members following the covenant of purity... and before you ask; Yes, necromancers and the whites do not get along very well."
"So they fight a lot?"
"Ehh... No... not really." the necromancer carefully tried to explain. "The whites are pacifists, the whole lot of them. Wouldn't hurt a fly." his face darkened. "They do however, like to place seals to negate dark magic and enchantments. You can not imagine how annoying it is to come home one day to find your entire tower covered with seals and wards." Aergad leaned back in his chair with a groan. "Took me days to remove all of those."
Pipsqueak thought for a moment before speaking again. "I guess I can understand why you don't like them a lot... but... why were the imps laughing so much?"
"Oh, they had a good reason for that." Aergad replied. "See, the worst thing about the whites, in my opinion is that they all take an oath of chastity. Do you know what that means?" Pipsqueak shook his head. "It means they're virgins, the whole bloody lot of them."
"Aergad!" Xhergis suddenly snapped at him.
"What?"
"What's a virgin?" Pipsqueak asked with a puzzled expression.
The necromancer gave the foal a bewildered stare before realisation set in. "Oh... right. Never mind, kid. Forget what I said."
"But master..."
"Nope. Forget it. Let's just get on with your lessons instead." Aergad reached inside his pockets and pulled out a small pebble he had picked up during their way back. "First lesson; perception." he set the small stone down on the table before him. "I'm curious to see how long this one will take you to figure out."
---
"This symbol goes here..." Calindria carefully etched the piece of chalk over the ground. "Now..." she checked the scroll with Aergad's instructions. "Place the charm in the center... if it doesn't work, you screwed up, ya dunce..." she gave a sigh. "Always being a smartass."
"My queen..." Buster carefully asked. "What are you doing?"
"Enough with the queen already!" the paladin groaned in frustration. "I'm calling Aergad."
"Who?"
"The one who sent me here." Calindria replied as she placed the charm Aergad had given her in the center of the crudely-drawn circle. Given that he had basically prepared everything, it was surprisingly easy. She briefly wondered if he could place some enchantments on her armor for good measure.
"Your... your master?" Buster stammered in wonder, his mind churning as he tried to contemplate what being someone as frightful as the Pale Queen would follow.
"Please don't say it like that." Calindria cringed at the thought and checked the scroll again. "Sient'ra mer grul ma tan."
For a short moment, the circle started to glow softly, both the paladin and the diamond dog waiting with anticipation for what would happen next... only to watch the glow disappear again and feel weird as a strange silence beset the tent.
"Uh... was that supposed to happen, my queen?" Buster finally asked.
"Please not the queen thing again..." Calindria groaned. "Why didn't it work? I did everything according to his instructions!"
"You did." another voice spoke up as the necromancer suddenly stood before them. "I simply wanted to see if you'd fret if it didn't work. What do you want? I was just giving lessons to..." Aergad was about to continue, but a snort from the paladin cut him off. "What?"
"Are you kidding me?" Calindria struggled to keep her amusement hidden. "White? Seriously?"
"Calindria..." Aergad tried to interrupt her.
"Secure your chasity belts, maidens and fair ladies... there's a virgin on the roam!" Calindria broke into laughter. "Aergad, I had no idea!" she started to wheeze. "Oh god, you should see your face! It looks like a strawberry on a piece of paper!"
Next to her, Buster couldn't help but fall in on the laughter, albeit doing so very nervously. Something about this figure... something was really disturbing. His laughter got even more nervous, when he saw Aergad's face darken considerably.
"Enough with the comedy!" Aergad fumed with an angry shout. Before the diamond dog's terrified eyes, a wave of black mana washed over the necromancer, tinging his robes in a deep black... and burning the flesh off his bones as the illusion fell apart.
The next thing he knew, Buster found himself staring into the two small stars set in the skull of Death himself. "Not so funny now then, is it pup?" the skeleton snarled at him.
"No, sir!" Buster quickly shook his head. Calindria remained unimpressed, still chuckling as she stored the memory in her mind for all eternity.
"That's what I thought." Aergad gave a short nod and returned his attention to Calindria. "Who is this anyway? And why isn't he dead?"
---
Back in Ponyville, sitting on the top floor of the necromancer's tower, Pipsqueak was carefully repeating the mantras Aergad had made him write down... concentrating with all his might on the pebble before him as he tried to see it without using his eyes. The only problem was, Pipsqueak had no idea how he was supposed to see something with his eyes shut.
Aergad had not lied it seemed, this was more difficult than he had expected it to be.