Light Flow was happier than he had ever been.
Things were really looking up from last week.
After leaving the Apple siblings behind, he had started the trek back to his home. It was a bit away from the center of Ponyville, right in the middle of where most ponies lived, so it had taken him a while to get there.
There was a bit of land between the forest and the town, mostly consisting of small hills dotted with trees and rivers. Typical countryside views, really.
The Everfree sat at the south-eastern border of the town, thankfully putting it quite a ways away from what was usually called the 'Residential District'. Ponies called it that, but the town was so small that it was really just a collection of about two dozen houses or so. Not exactly what he would call a 'District', but he supposed it wasn't necessarily wrong.
"Bit different from the big city."
Two dozen houses may have seemed like a low-ball, but the truth was that there just weren't that many ponies in Ponyville. Adding to that, a lot of ponies lived in their businesses, and some of the pegasi had homes made of clouds, too. All of those different things added up to very few actual houses.
He crested the last hill, and looked out into Ponyville proper.
It was nice. He really did think so. It was a very different sight when compared to....
He shook his head. He didn't like thinking about it too much.
He made his way down the hill, and out towards his home.
But, as the grass turned to dirt, and he began to see ponies out and about on their day, he saw something strange.
Every pony he looked at, no matter how old or young, colt or filly, whether a blank flank or cutie mark: he saw something.
A small glowing orb, sitting in the middle of their chest.
His mouth opened slightly as dozen of orbs shined in his view. It was about noon, which meant nearly everypony in town had something to do or someplace to be. The combined mashup of multicolored lights danced across his vision, and he had to shut his eyes against the sight.
It was beautiful.
He gasped slightly under his breath, trying to regain his composure. After another moment, he opened his eyes to the sight of an orb approaching him.
"Why hello there Light Flow! How is your mother these days? You know, I heard that she was admitted-"
He gaped openly at the pale orb faintly glowing in his neighbor's chest. He completely tuned her usual babble out in favor of peering closer at the dull grey orb.
It looked... frail? Like it was just barely holding on. It was a pale grey, hardly shining at all. It sat there silently, giving one weak pulse every couple seconds.
He licked his lips, and peered back up at the face of his neighbor as she seemed to grow even older before his eyes. He looked over her sagging yellow coat and greying mane as if seeing them for the first time. He watched her wrinkled mouth move without even hearing what she was saying.
He wanted to get away from her. Now.
"Um, that sounds great ma'am, but I gotta get home, so bye!" He blurted out a familiar excuse, before hurrying away with his eyes trained on the ground. He bit his tongue and tried not to think about what he had seen as his home rose up on the horizon.
It was a simple affair, almost identical to the other thatched-roof cottages sitting to the left and right of it, but he could always distinguish it. There were little tufts of grass springing up from the dirt directly out front; direct consequences of his mother's unfortunate forays into gardening.
His hooves drifted over the sad little growths as he approached the front door. He stopped in front of the familiar brown door, and closed his eyes in preparation.
His mother was sure to be cross. He would be lucky if he got away within two hours. He could already hear her normally soft voice ringing loudly in his ears. Echoing out into the street where everypony could hear the frustrated voice of his dear mother.
He drew in a deep breath, and reached a hoof up to open the door.
That had been last week.
His mother, as it turned out, hadn't been that angry with him. Oh, she had still yelled at him, but only because he hadn't told her he was staying over at Applejack's.
He had almost forgotten about the lie Applejack had told his mother. He was going to have to thank her somehow for saving him from the potential fury of his enraged progenitor.
As she had been yelling at him about secrets and honesty or something, he had taken the chance to look at her orb.
It was a solid white, just like his mother's coat; and it pulsated slowly and softly.
If he had to describe the feeling he got when he looked at it, in a word, it would be... warm.
Warm, and comforting.
His eyes hooded slightly as more and more feelings rushed into his head.
Safe, soft, warm, comforting, loving, beautiful, wonderful, strong, caring, secure.
It was then that he had finally begun to understand what those orbs were.
He had smiled, even as his mother had lectured him loudly. The orb in her chest, he knew what it was.
It was his mother.
He had taken the time since then to write up potential meanings in a new notebook, which he affectionately titled: 'Weird stuff about my cutie mark'.
Maybe not the best name, but it wasn't as if it wasn't apt!
So far, he had three potential meanings that also tied in with his observations so far.
One. It was a pony's internal fount.
Two. It was the manifestation of a pony's lifeforce. Though, he didn't really know what that would mean. It just sounded cool.
Three. It was a pony's soul.
He had it narrowed down to either number one or three, when he heard a knock at the door.
He would have normally left something so insignificant to his mother, but she was out for the day on another of her errands. He didn't know why she went out so much, it always seemed like she was going off somewhere. It's not like it was any of his business though, he didn't even know why he was thinking about it.
He put his black-bound notebook down on his floor, and turned towards his black-colored door. He opened it with a flick of his magic and made his way down the short, uninteresting hallway and toward the small set of stairs that led to the bottom floor of his home. He made his way downstairs, into the plain main room, and over to the front door.
He mentally prepared himself for a social encounter, and opened the door to find.... nothing.
The sun shone in through the empty doorway, and he cautiously poked his head out and swung it from side to side. His ear twitched as he felt frustration building inside him. It seemed as if he was the victim of a prank.
He couldn't see anypony around, except for his old neighbor in her yard, who he quickly swung his head away from. He doubted she would pull a prank like this. Or even could for that matter.
He was about to shut the door in anger when he noticed something that he had seemingly overlooked. It was a medium-sized package sitting on the doorstep. He stared at it a moment, before lighting his horn to levitate it up to him. He grunted in surprise as he felt his magic take hold, and slowly lifted it up to where he could see it better.
His eyes widened when he saw his name scribbled in big letters directly on the top. Who would be sending him something?
It was heavy..!
He audibly panted as he struggled to keep the package in his magical hold. He didn't have the strongest magic around, especially since he had been neglecting the villainous exercises he had devised for himself two years ago.
In his defense, It was hard to stick to a schedule when there were so many other interesting things to do!
Like reading... and.... um....
Okay so all he did was read. But it's not like that was a bad thing!
He walked backwards into the main room of the house, struggling to keep the package afloat in the red glow of his magic. He set the box down with a heavy 'whoomp' as he turned his attention towards shutting the front door. He lowered his eyes back to the box and groaned loudly.
He wasn't super into physical labor, but it looked as if he had no choice.
He wrapped his magic around the box again, and felt a bit of strain as he struggled to lift it. He let out small noises as he carried it up to his room, little grunts and groans as he felt his head beginning to hurt. His horn sparked and sizzled as he reached the top of the steps.
What the buck is in this thing?!
He moaned in pain as he swung his door open with a shaking hoof. He walked into the middle of his room and gasped in relief as he let the package fall from his grasp.
It fell down onto his black carpet with a heavy 'whump', and he silently thanked somepony-other-than-Celestia that it hadn't fallen straight through.
He sat there gasping and sweating as he felt the pain in his head slowly abate. He had never held something so heavy for so long before. His usual magical use was opening doors and levitating books, and he felt the pain from overtaxing his magic deep down in his chest.
After taking several moments to recover, he turned his attention to the plain brown box on his floor. As far as he could see, there were no identifying labels or anything on it. It was just a plain, brown box with his name scribbled on the top in big messy letters.
He frowned. If this was some sort of prank from Applejack, he swore he was going to....
Well, he didn't know what he was going to do. He would have to take time to plot, and scheme, and come up with a way to really make her regret it.
He approached the unassuming box with a frown and peered at it closer, trying to ascertain how on Equestria to open it. It didn't have any flaps, or openings, or anything.
For all intents and purposes, it was just a boring box.
But he knew there was something in it. There was no way it could be that heavy if it was empty!
And it's not like it was made out of something heavy. It was just cardboard. Regular old cardboard.
Cardboard..?
An idea came to him, and a smile slowly grew on his face. If it was just a normal cardboard box, he could just tear it open!
He lit his horn with a flourish, and extended his power forward in preparation of some nice easy-
The box was glowing.
He stepped back with a gasp as the box began to glow in seeming response to his attempt to magically tear it apart. A bright golden light that bounced off the dark colors of his room. There was no apparent source, since the box had no holes or creases or anything that could be leaking it from inside. So, the only explanation was the box itself.
He closed his eyes against the growing light, and then covered his eyes with a hoof when it started to bleed through his eyelids. It was strange, such a bright light should have been hot on his fur; but he didn't feel anything. It was as if the light wasn't there at all.
All of a sudden, after a few moments of standing there in the non-light, it just... stopped.
He saw the light at the corners of his vision fade away, and he lowered his hoof to see what had happened.
The box was open. It was just sitting there, looking to all the world like a plain, brown box with no top.
He set his hoof down on his carpet and approached the box carefully. He moved slowly, unsure if the box was going to suddenly leap out and attack him. He had to be prepared for anything else strange, and he briefly considered finding some sort of weapon.
He crept up to the edge of the box and peered inside, prepared for any number of horrible, terrible things.
It was a letter. A letter laying on top of what looked to be a book of some sort.
The book was brown, with a darker color bordering its spine. It was unassumingly plain otherwise, and he couldn't see anything else noteworthy. The letter was obscuring what he assumed was the title, but he could see a faint sliver of golden writing poking out behind it.
He bit his lip, and levitated the letter out of the box. He didn't dare to look at the title of the book, not yet.
The letter seemed, in a word, old.
It was a very dry, very crisp envelope, and he could make out a faint flowery pattern running throughout it. He levitated it over to his face and took a sniff. He crinkled his nose and levitated it back an inch or so. It smelled like dust.
He turned it over, expecting to find some sort of seal, but it was already open. He briefly wondered if somepony else had already opened it, but discarded the idea. He doubted the box did the glowy thing every time it was opened.
He could see a plain white piece of paper sitting just inside, and he levitated it out.
The paper, in impossible contrast with the envelope, seemed brand new. He could probably run down to the shop and buy a sheet just like it right then and there. He leaned it in for another sniff, and smiled in contentment. It was a pleasant smell, like flowers. He idly wondered how it could smell like that inside such a dusty old envelope, but he put the thought aside with all the other contradictions.
He folded the letter open, and began to read the contents.
The writing was incredibly messy and very hard to make out; seeming almost illegible at times. But he could manage.
Light Flow.
Normally, It is customary to begin a letter with some sort of greeting, followed by pleasantries. However, I have never been one for the meaningless tradition of exchanging empty words with nothing behind them.
Instead, I will skip straight 'to the point' as it were.
You do not know me, and you never will. If I were not soon to be meant for a realm beyond our own, I would take steps to ensure that a meeting between the two of us should never occur.
I shudder to think of such an encounter. The thought makes my skin crawl and my fur itch.
But, that is aside the point; which I seem to have strayed from.
The point, as it would be: is that you are important.
I have gazed into the future, and seen many things.
I see a shadowed monster. I see a fallen Princess. I see a lavender unicorn. I see the end of evil itself.
But above them all, I see you.
You. A small orphan boy from the non-existent town of Ponyville.
Many things have become clear to me in my old age and my extended sight, but you are an unchanging anomaly.
Time seems to have fractured around you for some strange reason. Moving and changing irrationally and without cause. I can see many different futures around you, and the only explanation is that you are the centre.
But one thing, no matter the reason, is constant. And that is the grand state of your destiny.
All futures end with you.
A dark king.
A benevolent prince.
An unfeeling monster.
A caring hero.
Your futures are many, but they are all important.
They are also undeniably dangerous.
I thought of having you removed from the equation. It would be so easy to give an order to have you arrested and executed. I could do it right now.
But it never works. In every possible future, you find a way to escape the fires.
A lucky walk. A soldier's mercy. A frenzied escape. A valiant sacrifice.
In every one, you vow to have revenge.
So I've decided on a course of action. A reckless, unsafe, terrible course of action.
I'm taking a gamble.
In the box that will have been delivered to you exactly one week after the appearance of your cutie mark, there should be a set of two books. There will be more on the way, but they will only arrive exactly when you need them.
This path is the one that has the greatest chance of good without compromising your personal safety.
Don't bother giving any sort of thanks. It would go unheard.
I would ask that you not let me down, but I know there's a high likelihood that you do.
Goodbye.
....
Light Flow blinked.
Light Flow blinked again.
Light Flow was trying to restart his brain, but he seemed to be having trouble.
He finally managed to piece the shattered remains of his mind together, and he found a stray thought floating about inside.
"I don't think this is a prank."
He levitated the discarded envelope over to his side almost absentmindedly, and carefully folded the letter inside. He set it down beside him.
He levitated a pillow over from his bed, and quickly shoved his face into it.
"WHAT?!"
That hadn't helped, like at all.
He took his head out of the cushion and threw it back in the direction of his bed. He stared forward unblinkingly and tried to think rationally.
Okay, so he was destined for great good or great evil. That's great! He was happy, and he couldn't wait to begin his path to darkness.
But what did all that other stuff even mean?!
Words like 'gamble' and 'destiny' and 'lavender' swirled around his head, and he audibly groaned. He slumped over onto his back, and kicked his hooves out into the air.
Okay. He was fine. Everything was going to be fine. It wasn't as if this changed anything. He had already known he was destined to be the greatest villain Equestria had ever seen!
But the letter said he could also do great good. A hero, it had called him.
He found himself thinking about it. He supposed it wouldn't be so bad to be revered instead of feared.
What did he even want?
Why did he want to be evil?
He sat there, staring at his black ceiling. He sat, and he sat, and then he sat some more.
Eventually, he got tired of sitting. He rolled over and stood up. He could think while he was reading his new books, whatever they were.
He walked over to the box and pulled one of the heavy books out of it with his magic.
He could see the golden writing on the tome now, and he peered closer at the title.
'Necromancy for Foals - Volume 1'
All of the things he was thinking about seemed to drain out of his head.
He felt a large, toothy smile grow on his face unheeded.
Light Flow was happier than he had ever been.
But as his brain restarted, he begun to actually think about the book floating there in front of him.
It was a book on Necromancy. A real, honest-to-deity, book on Necromancy.
Necromancy. The completely forbidden subject that could get you disappeared, just for studying it.
He felt his smile begin to slip away as reality slapped him in the face.
Light Flow was more afraid than he had ever been.
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"Uhhhhh" Doesn't tell me a lot about what you think of the chapter.
Care to expand on that thought? I'd love to hear what you have to say, be it positive or negative.
I can make some guesses based on the chapter you're on, but I'd still like to hear your thoughts on it.
Ethical necromancy is hard, but rewarding. Sacrifice, consent, self-control, respect for the veil, and an obligation to gatekeep for what would pass through, and even working with flesh and bone to form artifice.
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i don't blame you. Necromancy for foals is a good story. On my favorite list infact
Interesting plot swerve. Anonymous prophetic benefactor played straight? A refreshingly bold option, though I hope you eventually tie it back into an actual character rather than just leaving it as a dangling deus ex machina.
So... he was called an orphan. I'll miss you mom I barely knew.
Small point. Parchment is paper made from animal skin. Given the nature of the world papyrus or similar would be more likely. Not an important detail, but it is one I feel compelled to point out.
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He could be adopted.
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Me looking at the chapters ahead. The Funeral ah yes, wonder what that means.
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The words, what do they mean?!
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I tend to avoid looking at chapter titles until I’m reading them. Pretty much for exactly this sort of reason.
Might he perform repairs on the dull grey orb?
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Repairs?
Now, whatever might you mean?
no but seriously who knows what's gonna happen
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Or maintenance, perhaps
I like this sudden twist. The author himself, through a letter, directly addresses his hero, says that he is the chosen one. Like the author himself does not know who the hero will become in the future, but he is very important (As the main character of the story, of course).
So here are your books and be the greatest necromancer ever!
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Thanks so much for the comment!
I really love the breakdown/theorizing you're doing here.
How I envisioned it is: basically, the mysterious author of the letter knew possible outcomes, but not the one true future.
They knew Light had the capacity for great good or great evil, though they weren't sure how either outcome was achieved.
So, they decided to take a big risk, and gambled on the chance that Light would become a force for good.
At this point, this is still probably my favorite chapter. Asking me what I think of my writing will almost always result in a negative answer, but I really enjoy what I did here. I think I did a pretty decent job of creating intrigue and setting up future story events.
I'm glad you also enjoy this twist!
Oh my god... Oh my fucking god!!! The letter is amazing!
And even better is that he didn't immediately dismiss it as a prank! Call it what you will, I don't care if the letter might be cliche, (I think its really cool) but if he had disregarded the letter as fake then I feel like it would've been even more cliche and a lot less interesting...
The possibilities are endless... Going by the gold theme and the author of the letter having some form of authority, I want to think/hope its Celestia though seeing as how they want to go straight to the point I almost want to think Luna... I feel like Cadence nor Twilight would fit with its context, but I could also see a possible OC character coming in since it refers to themselves as a 'Seer'. (Though for all I know it could be an existing character that I don't know since I haven't seen the entirety of the show. Star Swirl might be an interesting option...)
I just really hope that he start leaning towards the good side at some point, though I can see him doing that farther down the line when he finally understands what yte letter meant... I kinda hope he eventually tells Applejack since it's always good/nice for then protagonist to have a confidante to talk about their issues with...
As for thebmentioning of the letter, really concerning about the 'orphan's portion of it. It was also worrying that the Mare who he ran into that was old was trying to tell him his mother was possibly admitted into the hospital? (Though atm it seems like her soul is stable...) I just hope it does lead him down the path of darkness, at least not permanently...
Final note, I wonder if you'll have a prophecy thing come up or someone makes a comment on how "Honesty brought the resurgence of Necromancy" or something similar. Quite a few authors has old characters refer to the element bearers by their respective elements, and the whole fact that one of them, Honesty in particular, was essentially the one that caused the return of Necromancy is a really interesting/potentially cool plot point to bring up. (Though in the end it's likely unnecessary since it doesn't really do anything besides sound super cool. )
Thanks again for the good read! :D
Cliché? Maybe. Yes, the chosen one trope is really cliché, so is the Hero’s Journey, so is the dying mentor (as Light’s mom has suffered).
These aren’t only clichés, they’re some of the most used tropes in fantasy (especially RPG’s, just look at the story of every Dragon Quest game).
That’s because they’re tried and true, and they work.
And man did this work. This letter is really well done, it raises questions, and explains the plot that was basically nonexistent until now. You’re basically creating an RPG, and I love RPGs. Great job.
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That's really what I tell myself every time I feed into any sort of trope that's been done to death a thousand times. If something's that overused, there's a reason; and that reason is pretty much just the fact that things are used because they work.
It helps me feel better about being 'cliché', and brings me back down to earth a bit. I don't need to break new ground here, and I don't even need to resort to excavation to make a story good. As long as I stay focused, whimsical, and self-aware enough to make some jokes; my story will end up pretty decent at worst.
Also your comment was really kind and made me feel some fuzzies in my heart.
.
.
.
Grr.
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F
I hate it. Hate it all.
Both disgusting meddling with natural flea of things and shitty reference too.
There is no possible way for that to be anypony other than Celestia herself. She was the one with the canonical gift of prophecy and the other diarch is still stuck on the moon anyway.
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Normally you would be correct, but a) Hasbro's own writers clearly didn't know this and b) it came from a probable necromancer (which doesn't necessarily clash with what I said above; literally the same episode that revealed her visions also had her use dark magic).
… starswirl is in limbo, so is this clover?
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Gotta be Celestia.
Who else has the ability to send garrisons of soldiers and access to reposititories of illegal magic?
I'm liking this so far. After reading the books Sabriel and Lirael by Garth Nix, I can tell you that necromancy doesn't necessarily have to be about raising the dead for selfish gain. It can also be about exercising the dead and banishing evil. He has lots of options with what he chooses to do with his necromatic abilities. I can't wait to read more.
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I just realized after writing this comment that I didn't really internalize that you were talking about alternative uses for Necromancy. Whoops?
The ethical dilemma that naturally comes about whenever Necromancy is mentioned is a real tough cookie, for sure.
One might say that death is the worst possible fate, and anything done to avoid it is a purely noble path. The action may be spoiled by intentions, but that can be said for anything, really.
Another might argue that the dead should be left to rest. Nature had never made any specific allowance for such a brazen defiance of its rules, and that makes the action wholly unjust in the worst of ways.
Some may take a more moderate route between with the thought that, while the practice is morally corrupt, it can be used to and for extreme good. The ends justify the means, as it were.
I'm not some great philosopher, and I'm really not comfortable forming a public opinion about it. I will, however, live vicariously through my character. His deeper thoughts on the topic aren't quite as obvious, but he has his own opinion, too.
It's pretty safe to say he currently sits in another camp altogether. He believes the practice is evil, and therefore: cool.
Kind of simple.
Wasn't there a story on fim called necromancy for foals?
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Yep! I intentionally made a reference to it here!
It was one of the first stories I ever read on Fimfiction, so it holds a special place in my heart such that I thought it would be cool to name a book after it!
Ah, clearly a letter from ancient Grogar securing his dark legacy! The Necramancer seeks a worthy apprentice, but he'll have to settle for Light.
mas seguro una combinacion de la 2 y la 3
dos cosas:
Primero, el unico ser canonico en ser tan viejo (y tal vez ver el futuro) aparte del viejo amargado maestro de Celestia y Luna, es Celestia, y cuando digo canonico, digo el Programa sin contar los comic's, asi que esta la posibilidad de que ella no haga nada si quiere salvar Pony Planet, y como se dijo en la carta, es una apuesta MUY arriesgada
Segundo, muchos de esos destinos nombrados suenan increibles para la historia, tanto de la manera triste (o tambien conocido como Bad Ending) como la manera genial (conocida como Good Ending) ... pero sinceramente espero ver en esta historia la conocida ruta verdadera, la real (conocida como The True Ending)
(Insert Captain America) Ha! I get that reference!
To me this sounds like Sunset right before she jumped into the mirror portal.
Hmm... Wonder who our mysterious benefactor is? Sunset? Sombra? Maybe Twilight from the future? And what path will our Necromancer take? One of power, domination and terror, or one of harmony, benevolence, and peace?
oh oh shit stallion this is getting good XD