• Published 26th Feb 2014
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He Who Walks The Graves - The Zealot

When the ignorant find knowledge they are dangerous. One man understands this, and so seeks to educate the nation he once fought for, and to bring down it's tyrant ruler.

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Chapter 1: What Breaks My Heart...

He Who Walks The Graves
By: The Zealot
Chapter 1: What Breaks My Heart...

One thousand and fourteen years. That is how long I have been trapped, immobile, in my stone prison. Forced to look out over the world that should have been shaped differently, no rest for my weary eyes. I could not move, nor talk, nor do anything I would wish. I simply stood, a monument to an age that could have been, and was lost for one single tiny little improbability.

But the thing is, all prisons open eventually, and the time for mine to break was coming. How did I know? I taught her the spell, of course, but never at it’s full power. Celestia thought herself better than me, in intelligence and strategy. She may have won the battle, all those years ago, but the war is not yet over. Not even with my long absence, no, the pieces are still in place, the puzzle is almost complete.

I was broken from my thoughts by yet another school group, they showed up every now and then and it was entertaining to hear them blather on of things that only school children would find important. Three stuck out to me, however. An orange pegasus filly with a purple mane, a light yellow earth pony filly with a red mane and bow, and then a white unicorn filly with a mane of purple and pink.

These three stuck out to me, for they actually cared! They looked upon the statues, and listened to their teacher with interest! It has been far too long since any of the ponies looked upon my statue in thought, far too long indeed. It was then that the orange one spoke.

“Um, Ms. Cheerilee, what’s this statue supposed to be?” She asked, raising her hoof to point towards me, oh I do hope their teacher makes a good guess.

“Hm, well now students, that’s an interesting question. You see, nopony knows quite what this one is supposed to be. Over the years there have been many theories, but I personally believe it signifies… change. But change is not always good, remember that, my students.” Their mulberry colored teacher said, by jove! She got it right, well, sort of.

You see, in my own opinion, I am the embodiment of death, but that also does include change, as well as destruction. It’s a tad morbid, yes, but it was a, dare I say, fun job. I act as my namesake, a reaper of souls, I took those who died on the battlefield to their respective places of rest, be it the pony ‘Everafter’ or their version of hell. In case you’re wondering, that’s not why I was imprisoned. I was here because of an age old plot to overthrow the crown and bring down the country. I had my reasons, most of them were to be a lesson, but alas, the time never happened and so I am here trapped.

The little ponies all ‘ooh’d and ‘ahh’d at their teachers explanation, it was a bit sweet. What, I may be an evil bringer of death, but even I can recognize cuteness. But far too soon they left, it was perhaps for the best, however, as not soon after the fall of night my prison shattered. ‘Twas louder than I would have hoped, the stone being flung from me at such velocity. I couldn’t fix it now though, if anyone heard me hopefully it would take them a while to get here. The first thing I did after my thousand year imprisonment was to stretch. After that I pulled the tiny bit of shrapnel from my revolver, flicking it off into the shrubbery.

I holstered my weapon and looked around. I was near the front of the garden, it seems. Perfect. I could start the plan underway, but first, I could have some fun. That fun would come in the form of she who I tormented eternally, Princess Luna. Perhaps I had caused her insanity, perhaps.

With a snap of my fingers and a flicker of shadows I was in the room of the night princess, standing over her. This was a new place to me, new castle and all. It is a good thing I don’t work on location and instead on person, otherwise I would not have found dear Luna.

I wasn't going to do anything too horrible, no, she didn’t deserve that. Not until the fall, anyway. I wrote a note on my personal stationery. Shadow grey with gold leafe text, if you must know. And of course a golden scythe in each corner.

Dear Luna,

It has been too long, Princess. Do you remember what I told you all those years ago? Tick tock, Luna, your time is coming.

~ The Reaper

Signed with my ‘name’ I propped the note up on her bedside table, against a clock fashioned in the likeness of a skull, and of course, with the stereotypical ‘tick tock’. I remember that old rhyme, morbid it was, if you think about it.

Tick Tock, Goes the clock, and what then shall we play?
Tick Tock, Goes the clock, now summer's gone away?

Tick Tock, Goes the clock, and what then shall we see?
Tick Tock, Until the day that it all goes away.

Tick Tock, Goes the clock, and all the years they fly.
Tick Tock, And all too soon, you and I must die.

[1014 A.B.]