• Published 14th Jun 2018
  • 12,907 Views, 1,254 Comments

The Worst Equestrian Necromancer - Nobodyslament

Some necromancers want to rule the world. Some want to reign terror across their own demented plane of existence. One just really wants to annoy heroes. These are his stories.

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The Return

Ragar watched from his hiding spot as the ponies disappeared from the abandoned castle in the Everfree Forest. He was glad they had elected to leave shortly after their climactic showdown, as this part of his plan relied upon only two people knowing what happened here. Well, three if you counted a tricky demon. Ragar had been quietly observing events for some time, with no clothes covering him and no tools on his body. Going in bare-bones had been necessary to avoid detection. From the glow to his left he could tell his son was casting his scrying spell again. "You were right, pops. We've got a hit in the throne room. Need my help with this part?"

Ragar shook his head, not bothering to whisper as he emerged from his hiding spot. "No, Ragar shall do it himself. Go and check on the little filly you like; Ragar is sure she would appreciate it."

Black Sun's blue coat darkened to a shade of violet. "Dad, I don't like any girls. That being said, I do have that store you asked me to open in Ponyville to look after, so I guess I should make sure the residents know I'm okay." Ragar watched him fly off and smiled. He then did something that anypony who knew him would find quite surprising. He straightened up, and when he did it was as if the hunched lich became someone else entirely. The constant clicking noise of his bones against the stone floor and each other, the quirky movement that seemed to be one song away from breaking into a jig, all of it vanished as if it had never been.

In its place stood a skeleton in complete control, silent and walking with no wasted movement. He calmly moved to the center of the throne room, nodded, and then began a slow circle around the room - all while completely quiet. Once he completed the circle he returned to the middle of the room and raised his hands. As he did, black smoke began billowing from his open palms.

If anyone familiar with magic were here to witness his actions they would quickly realize the spell he was casting could go wrong easily. If it failed, he would be lost in the realm of Ooyooaeo, the Voweled Tempest. If it went perfectly, the influence of the realm of Vowels and Wind would only briefly pass through the Veil and leave things mostly the same, with the notable difference of all recently banished spirits being returned to the room.

As the black smoke spilled all over the room, Ragar began humming. The smoke began to emit speech that somehow lacked all consonants, speaking in an impossible language about the death of worlds. Ragar hummed louder. Finally, a few spectral beings phased into existence, singing prophecies of the fall of all Equine-kind. Ragar broke into an ominous song of his own, drowning out their lyrics as he continued to ignore the spell’s side effects. As his efforts neared completion, the ghostly choir vanished, the impossible language quieted, and finally the smoke vanished as he brought his hands together in a clap that sent a pulse of magical energy throughout the room.

The first thing Ragar noticed was that there were numerous slugs littering the floor, all dead. They also had a number of typewriters and sheets of paper scattered around them. Ragar picked one up out of idle curiosity, and then smirked. "A Oieuuooeo Oieiu’u Eoeao: Ay Oiu Eeiuee ay Ooyooaeo. "Guess we were wrong about the monkeys." He pocketed the page and saw his reason for being here: A cloud of nebulous black energy, floating about in a confused manner. Ragar walked up to it and slapped his face with both hands. The loud clacks heralded the return of his normal noisy way of talking before he began posturing. "Hello, little Nightmare. I am RAGAR, THE AGELESS DEATH. Would you terribly mind accompanying Ragar back to his hidden lair?"

The spirit bobbed back and forth as if debating this before it floated up and down in an excellent facsimile of a nod. Ragar clattered his teeth in an audible smile. "Wonderful! Ragar must, of course, do a small errand first. Ragar asks if you would simply go to the largest central hub of necromancy in the current magical sphere. Once above that, Ragar's lair will be one hundred miles due east. Go, and do not tarry! Your spirit will fail again if you do not reach the lair soon." The spirit flew away.

Ragar moved to the throne and sat upon it, pondering his inability to truly smile. He gauged the grin he’d probably have after successfully completing the spell would have long passed shit-eating and would have quickly approached a smile singularity. Luckily he had no muscles, thus averting the happiest apocalypse the world had ever seen. He lazily waved a hand, summoning a set of midnight blue robes around himself. With another wave an orb of black light appeared. He tapped it once and was greeted with soft laughter as the call started connecting. He bobbed his head to the ringtone he had lifted from a call almost a century ago. If Ragar remembered correctly, Black Sun had spilled spaghetti all over him during dinner, causing Ragar to shout about impurities on his very soul. Celestia had laughed for a good while after that, at least partially due to the orb hiding the meal until it had suddenly appeared all over his robes.

Eventually the laughter stopped, and Ragar found himself gazing into Celestia's tea room. Celestia and Luna were sitting by a table with all sorts of refreshments laid out. Celestia looked her normal, beautiful self, but when he looked at Luna, Ragar wanted to frown; she looked like a fraction of the mare he remembered. She was much smaller than before, and was completely lacking that energetic glint in her eye. Ragar forced those thoughts to the back of his mind. "Good morrow to both of the wonderful princesses of Equestria! Ragar had hoped Luna would be returned tonight."

Celestia smiled at Ragar while Luna stared. She had the expression of an exhausted dog staring at an intruder: knowing that she wanted to do something about it, but debating if that was possible at this exact moment. Celestia ignored that and continued. "Ragar, I'm so glad you called. You were right! Luna came back exactly on the thousandth year. I would hug you if you ever showed that bone-headed skull of yours."

Ragar held out his arms wide, joy flowing freely from him. "Of course Ragar was right! Ragar keeps too many secrets not to share them with those in need. Or to accidentally make some very interesting people."

Luna looked between Ragar and Celestia. She appeared to be trying to decide between bringing up the necromancer in the room or just letting it lie. Ragar decided that there was no need to wait. "And little Luna, last time Ragar saw you was after you banished Discord. Ragar believes it was a victory party, and you tried to sneak away with that wonderful little thestral when Celestia had her back turned."

Ragar watched as Luna's fur darkened. "Celestia, thou have some explaining to do. Namely, why is there an accursed lich appearing in thy tea room and speaking of events from our own private lives?"

Celestia gave her sister a patient smile. "Well, Luna, about a century after you left Ragar here called me and demanded we send guards to destroy him. Since then, we've cultivated a wonderful friendship; I can show you the recordings of the challenges he has put forth for our guards."

Luna stared in slack-jawed shock at Celestia's claim, while Ragar clattered his bones. He raised a hand, which drew the attention of both mares. "Ragar was just calling to offer Luna an invitation to our tea in a couple decades. Ragar is sure that she will absolutely love to see this handsome skull in person." He raised a single hand to his chin. "Or should it be in pony? Ragar still sometimes has trouble with the pony form of this language."

Luna continued to stare for a moment before shaking her head in confusion. "Of course. We would love to see thy handsome skull for ourselves. I bet it would look lovely above my mantle."

Ragar was once again glad of his lack of a face. The unfortunate princess had just stepped right into his trap. "Well, Ragar needed to send a welcome home gift to you anyways. Give Ragar a moment."

The guards outside the royal tea room were less well trained than their bedroom counterparts. They froze in place at their forgotten Princess's shriek. "What in the ninth pit of Tartarus is that!? DID IT JUST DROP A SKULL ON ME?!?!?!" The guards heard this devolve into a mixture of screams and laughs before they reached a consensus. When the princesses left the tea room together, they barely noticed that their guards were missing.

Author's Note:

Well, another chapter out and my writer's block temporarily beaten. Guldane really helped a ton with this chapter, so show them some love. Thank you for your patience folks.

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