Chapter 1: Origins
A long time back, even before Princess Celestia and Luna were brought to the universe as deities of the Sun and the Moon*, the Creator of Ponykind has left a prophecy well-hidden in the Saddle Arabian foundations: It stated that one day, one pony shall receive an eternal curse in the form of a cutie-mark and it will follow him until the day he or she dies. This pony might be the harbinger of death itself no matter how innocent, beautiful or intelligent he or she looked. It is that day that Equestria might suffer from his or her existence and whatever he or she does will not matter in the eyes of other ponies. It was dictated that he shall suffer because he or she will make his or her own ponykind forget the Creator's name and instead admire him blindly no matter where he or she goes. This prophecy was hidden and almost forgotten by everypony but when it will emerge, everypony will remember that there is still a Creator in this world.
Saddle Arabia: Twenty five years before the events of The Misfits
Behind the treacherous sandy dunes of the Grand Worm Desert lies the majestic city and capital of Saddle Arabia, Istablbul (Istabl = Stable). The city was not as grand as Canterlot but its white and sandy brown buildings, colorful stalls and crowdy atmosphere made it stand out to be one of the economic and agricultural powers in all of Equestria. Everything from fresh imported food to local exotic fruits and vegetables could be seen despite the heat and the lack of watery resources. Even though it seems peaceful, it's far over from that if you ask me.
"You scoundrel," somepony was yelling in front of the gathering crowd "You stole all my dates (Don't go too far into your mind, it's the fruit) and hidden them somewhere only you know. Now answer me! Where are my dates crop?"
The grey colt with jet-black hair said nothing which angered his master, grabbing him from his rags.
"I gave you a job, I gave you money," the last statement made the colt glare "I gave you shelter and clothes and yet you back-stabbed me. Why I ought to deliver you to the Grand Vizier Caliph for this." The dates farmer said, pulling him throughout Saddle Arabia to the Vizier's quarters. As they were passing, the colt was earning glances of pity from his younger co-workers, the crowd, and pretty much everypony they passed. However, he was unfazed and ready to accept his punishment whatever it was.
Istablbul Palace: Vizier quarters
Compared to regular Saddle Arabian buildings, the palace looked glamourous with its pearl white paint and towers endorsed with golden domes. Two particular towers were decorated with suns and moons representing the reign of Princess Celestia and Luna respectively. Alas, the Lunar tower was in tatters since the Princess of the night's banishment. Our interest is shifted as we could hear a yell coming out from the Vizier's quarters: It was the dates farmer explaining, rather loudly, his situation in front of the Grand Vizier Caliph and his chancellor who serves as judge of his cases. The Vizier was a rather young looking yellow stallion, clothed with a turban on his head and a stern look on his bright red eyes. His cutie mark could not be seen since he had the cape of the Grand Vizier on him.**
"O Grand Vizier," he started "It is a horrible calamity that happened: This foal" as he pulled him in front of the crowd "has stolen all the crops of dates I've been living for. He has hidden them in a place and will never reveal their location, nor will he pay me back for whatever he has stolen. I have given him everything anypony wishes for and yet he betrayed me." The Vizier was looking intensly at the colt, who had his head lowered not of shame, but of submission. He could see from behind his eyebrows a fierce look. While the chancellor was angered by his actions. Looking from high up to the colt, he approached him.
"Anything you have to say for yourself, young one?" the colt simply didn't move.
"See? He has been doing this from the very beginning. He's guilty, guilty I tell you." screamed the farmer.
"If you are as guilty as he claims, then you have no choice but to submit. You are a worker in his crops yet you have commited a grave sin. Only punishment awaits you as the dungeon calls I'm afraid. Guards! Get him." as the guards approached, the colt rose his head and intensified his look on the Vizier.
"Is this your justice, O Grand Vizier?" asked the colt "You hastely let your 'chancellor' take rash decisions without even hearing out the accused."
"You insolent foal" yelled the chancellor "We gave you a chance to speak and you wasted it. Now it's too late."
"Not even when I am willing to tell you truths you didn't know about this pony who is pretending to be my caretaker and savior?" At this, the Vizier's eyes sparkled with interest at the young colt. Raising his hoof to halt the commotion, he put himself in a thinking position.
"Everypony deserves a second chance, chancellor. Let's hear what this young one has to say as rashness isn't part of my creed. We're all ears, young one." the colt simply looked back at the Vizier, nodded and answered.
"Tell me please what do you think of someone who 'eats' the others' money?" the crowd was simply flabbergasted at his choice of words "This stallion is the heir of my true caretaker who passed away a short time after taking me under his hoof. He taught me everything about farming and in turn I taught this stallion's farmers to love this job and yet this... opportunist and 'heir' of the farms didn't even care about the well-being of his workers: He didn't respect their wages, their morals and even their bodies. He even was beating some of us to submission." As his monotone tone was having an impact on the Vizier, the head farmer was boiling with rage.
"Why you insolent foal, I oughta-" he was silenced by the stern look of the Vizier and the guards' lances. As he gestured to the colt to continue.
"I simply did my deed as a rancourous act. He doesn't deserve anything more than whatever I did, not even one single leave of a palm tree. The fruit itself is named after the Phoenix, who is the symbol of life and Princess Celestia's most sacred animal according to the teachings of my old caretaker. I may be a fifteen-years old orphan but I have seen far beyond whatever you have seen, O Grand Vizier. Whoever treats who treats this fruit with such grace and respect unfairly and even barbarically doesn't deserve to be called a farmer." the words of the young colt touched the Vizier so much that he raised his head to the ceiling, eyes closed, breathing steadily but slowly and then standing up from his seat, unsteathing his scimitar and putting it at neck-range of the farmer who cowered in fear as a drip of blood came out of his neck. It didn't drop on the sword but rather at the beautiful green carpet that was decorating the room.
"Even my sword doesn't want to taste your blood, farmer." he spat out with a venom-laced tone as he steathed his sword back "Begone, and never come back. Guards! Escort this ingrate outside of the palace and make sure he receives one hundred lashes in front of his own workers. Also, make sure to assign one of them as the new head. Strip this one from his garnements and give them to a trustworthy stallion such as this young colt." as soon as the orders were called, the farmer was escorted outside, shrieking and squealing like a madman while another guard carried the cape and presented it to the colt.
"As for you, my dear colt, I have other plans for you" these words got the colt's attention "How about you decide who to give this cape and then I'll assign you as my new chancellor?" upon hearing this, the chancellor fainted on the spot, earning a booming laugh from the Vizier.
"With all due respect, your highness, I am still young for such a great responsibility and I am nothing but a farmer who experienced life from a farmer's view. I traveled a lot with my previous caretaker as I self-taught myself the noble art of swordsmanship at a young age." the colt answered, earning another laugh from the Vizier.
"YET, you have proven yourself worthy facing the adults, even myself. Trust me that lack of confidence doesn't suit such a wise colt as you are. You are a true gem that needs to be polished more and more so that it'll cut even the Sun into pieces. You shall become even more than the chancellor, you shall be my son and that is an order!" he approached the young colt, patting his shoulders "Now tell me, son, what is your name?"
"My name... is Laa-Mohr, Son of Nopony and a Nopony in this world." he answered happily.
Laa-Mohr's POV
Such compliments, such graceful words that made me feel happy for probably the first time in years, were flawless to the apparent eye as they were the start of both my blessing and my unfateful meeting.