An Abyss Watcher is flung into Equestria after the Ashen One's secret betrayal. Finding someone to hold onto, he discovers new purpose under the guidance of the moon.
An Abyss Watcher’s soul is torn from the whole, sent flying through reality upon the event of a Great Betrayal.
Finding himself within an entirely new world, he discovers a new purpose under the guidance of the moon, charged with the protection of her subjects. It is something to hold onto, to resist the Undead Curse for at least a little while longer.
However, a darkness rises again in the Frozen North, seeping into all that is good. The old king of Shadow, Sombra, will challenge the Watcher’s newfound connection with this world and its princesses.
A Dark Souls 3 Crossover. Takes place during the middle of Season Three. Edited by The Dark Soul.
I have felt many things throughout my struggled existence. From pain to elation, hatred to exhilaration, a life spanning eras held more than enough time for the broad spectrum of feeling.
It was a long, long time ago, far too long ago to be recollected clearly, that I was but a young man, naïve and hopeful for the world. There had been stories, of course, and legends of the Linking of the Fire. I had thought maybe, just maybe, I could be one of the heroes of yore, to create my own legacy of mystic tales and wonderful miracles. The great Knights of Astora, their blue crest a blazing dragon of nobility and beauty. Or perhaps the so-called “onions” of Catarina, men and women with large armor to match the size of their hearts.
Gwyn and his four knights, bastions of greatness, were fit for the most miraculous of legends. Tales of gods, striking down the Everlasting Dragons and protecting the people of the land from the most horrific of beasts. They were heroes, to be sure, paragons of what a knight stood for. Yet, one particular tale had fancied my interest the most.
Artorias of the Abyss, the Wolf Knight. Oh, what a grand tale he was! To have walked the Abyss itself, slaying ghoulish wraiths and husks of the dead, to save a beautiful princess from a most horrific monster. A fairy tale and nothing more, a few had said of it, but it was a most majestic tale indeed.
But my time of naivety and hope had been all but extinguished by my twenty-fifth winter. For, the Darksign had appeared upon my flesh, a rotting foundation for what I would eventually become. A harrowed undead, fit for nothing. I was cast aside, left only to decay as madness began to set in. I had known that I would eventually hollow, though I did not know when. The only thing I did know, was that if I kept my optimism, if I kept something close to work for, I would keep my sanity, and perhaps become human again.
Then, I had felt hope—there were others like me. For, I had found a particular group of undead, seeking only a purpose. They had established themselves in Farron. It was a mystical wood, the birthplace of the legend of Artorias itself. They had given themselves meaning once more, to carry on the legacy of the ancient hero. We would crush the Abyss, the Dark, wherever it was. The ranks of the Watchers were small at first, but our numbers bloated within months—the Watchers appealed to many aimless, wandering undead, searching only for a reason to live.
But, for the longest time, I could only remember the fire, the burning sensation as my flesh and blood was lit alight. Many decades after our foundation, we had given ourselves to the flame, a last effort to defeat the Abyss. So many undead had deserted us by then, some of them my dearest of friends, but it was our last purpose.
It was a rather excruciating purpose, to burn for all eternity. Madness had gripped our hearts, and I had known only pain. And then, untold millennia later, the fire bore the audacity to call us forth once more, and burn ourselves once again for a frail old lie. Though we rejected it at first, we were forced to bear our embers, our ashes stolen by what some called an Unkindled to light the flame.
The ruse would have succeeded, if our murderer had not betrayed the Fire itself. Now, I felt exhaustion. Relief, perhaps, that the flame would be snuffed out. I was dead, at last, and I would remain so forever. My brothers were with me, for one final moment, and darkness set in. The sun itself would die, eventually.
I did not know, then, that my soul would be thrown, split from my brothers. To lands I did not know of, yet great magic laced their painted threads. Maybe it was a calling, one last purpose to protect a kingdom from the Abyss once more.
Or, perhaps, my soul was just searching for something, someone, to hold onto.
I awoke upon a cold surface, and pain wreathed my limbs as, once more, I felt. A low whine escaped me, one I hoped none of my brothers would ever know of, lest they make a mockery of my existence. The ground whereupon my face sat was cold. Stone, cold stone.
Yet, I was puzzled. For all that had happened, I knew within myself that I should not be able to know as I did then. But against all odds, I thought, I felt.
I lived.
My memories were patchy, to say the least. I recollected only threads, pieces, but I still knew that I should not be alive. I had been killed, slaughtered in a chaotic mess as the blood of my friends, my compatriots, mixed with my own. And then, I had been burned, along with all of my brethren, to link a dying flame.
So why, then, did I live? Why, then, could I feel?
Slowly, gently, I braced my hand against the ground. I let out a pained groan, my bones aching as I rose. A sudden dizziness came about me, causing me to waver about. I shook my head, trying to relieve the building pressure inside.
Then, daintily, I attempted to crack open my eyes. They were dry, sorely so, as if they had been closed for millennia. Yet despite the pain, my vision cleared, allowing me to see my surroundings.
A dark room, it seemed, and a damp moisture filled the air. It was quiet, and the faintest hints of light shone from a small crack above me—a window. I could hear the whistle of wind outside, similar to the sort one would hear in a valley or mountain. Nearby, an unusually small and filthy bed sat in a corner. Too small for a man, yet too large for a child.
It was a cell. A jail, it seemed, of the sort to house criminals and prisoners. Bars, metal bars, were arranged in rows before me, a door to keep me in. It was clear, however, that this prison of mine had not been used in a long while—the bars had begun to rust, and it seemed that the cells were not very well maintained. Outside my cell, a light flickered weakly.
Then, I looked down upon myself—unclothed, as it was. My flesh was bare, uncovered, and I could feel a cold chill rolling upon my skin. A simple loincloth covered my waist and groin, and that was all I had.
My flesh was rather fascinating, and my eyes glazed with interest over it. Small, tiny cracks were visible all along my arms, barely noticeable pockets of what looked to be fire in between them. Dust and dirt speckled my body, and I could feel thin sheets of dried blood along my flesh.
Out of curiosity, I placed a pair of fingers on my neck, feeling for a rather familiar sign. I found it quickly, roiling under my chin. It was a rotting, scorched reminder of my curse. It burned to the touch, scalding my fingers. I knew, then, that I was still an undead, though now without a purpose.
I was a fool for thinking that I could escape the darksign so easily.
I do not know for how long I had sat there, undisturbed. Minutes, it could have been, or perhaps hours. The light outside my window had dimmed ever so slightly, and the cell had taken a cold chill. And then, sometime later, I was roused from my thoughts, the sounds of hooves upon stone and brick echoing across the hall.
Hooves—that was an anomaly, to say the least. One did not expect to find horses in a dungeon, yet now they resonated in a cacophonous chorus. There were several beings, it seemed, and voices. Some rough and hard, yet two of them stood out from the rest.
The first was noble and kind, a pleasant song to an ear. She—the voice was feminine in nature—seemed to be in charge, ordering the others. Doors opened somewhere outside my cell, and the hooves and voices began again.
The second voice caught my ear. It was harder, of sorts, than the first, but younger, it appeared. If the first had been a melody of a song, the second voice was its accompanied harmony, rolling through the air like a moon to the day’s sun.
The voices came closer, their echoes louder. I could hear what they were saying now.
“Last door, princess. The… creature, is being held in these last few cells,” a male voice said.
Royalty? But a curiosity, to be sure, that I was dealing with a princess rather than a king or queen. I was unable to resist the curiosity, and I looked up from my spot on the ground, at least somewhat eager to see who it was that held me prisoner. Shadows appeared outside, wavering in the faint light. Yet, something was inherently wrong with the shadows, something different. For, strangely enough, they took the form of some four-legged creature.
I could not help it—my mouth fell open upon the sight of my jailers. It made sense, after all. The sounds of hooves, their shadows, yet I could not believe my eyes. Coats of color, golden armor upon their bodies. Some bore sharp horns upon their heads, while others possessed wings. Two of them, their figures sleekly feminine, were both horned and winged, larger than the rest of the gaggle.
Horses. Of all creatures to have imprisoned me, horses. A sick joke, it could have been, yet these creatures, these animals, were very much real.
“Is that it?” one asked, and my attention diverted to her. At once, a particular scent came about me, smelling curiously of lilac and strawberries. Even in the moldy darkness, her pearly-white coat glowed and her mane flowed like a stream of beautiful color. She bore golden and violet regalia along her body, yet a glance into her eyes revealed a hard, yet warm nature. A strange dichotomy.
Beside her stood a horse of almost complete opposition. Her coat was a dark indigo, her mane an otherworldly silk of a sapphire-like blue. Small speckles of light patterned her mane, and it reminded me of the night sky. She bore similar jewelry as the first, yet all colored a deep black and silver. I could only assume that she, too, was a princess.
One of what I assumed were their underlings responded, his suspicious gaze aimed at myself. “Yes, princess. Stripped of its armor, clothes, and weapons, as it is, but it is the same creature.” He seemed to be a unicorn of legend, his blue-shaded mane a stark difference from the ethereal nature of those of the “princesses.”
“It’s awake. Have you spoken to it yet, Captain?”
The unicorn shook his head in reply, still glaring at me. “Not yet, my princess. It has been in a deep slumber since it arrived, but it seems to have awoken now."
“Very well,” the princess responded, and she stepped forwards. “My sister and I will speak to it ourselves. If it can speak, that is.”
The captain, as his rank was, nodded, stepping backwards. I watched, silently, as the princess and her sister approached my cell, an air of confidence about them. Stopping just short of the bars, the princess took a moment to look over me. Her gaze felt like needles pricking at my bare flesh.
“And that is our dilemma. Can you speak?” she asked, looking down upon me.
I returned her stare and nodded plainly, rubbing my legs with my hands. I felt scars upon my skin, a dim heat emanating from them.
The princess frowned, evidently displeased at my failure to truly speak. “What is your name?”
Her question stopped me, her words digging forcefully into my mind. What was my name? It had been so long, after all, yet I should have known it. But I did not. And so, I shook my head.
“What are you?” the princess asked, taking another step closer. “And, I implore you, speak.”
“An undead,” I replied, and I watched for their reaction.
The princess and her sister tensed almost immediately, and the soldiers behind them raised their arms, stepping forwards in an obviously protective manner. Yet, the princess’s sister raised a hoof, urging them back. Looking curiously at me, she spoke.
“How, then, can you speak, if you should be dead?” she asked. “We have never seen a creature like you before.”
I shrugged, looking away. Her eyes were bright, and I sought to avoid them. “Don’t expect you would have. But I’m not a hollow. At least, not yet.”
“Hollow?” the dark one queried, though her larger sister gave her an admonishing look. “What do you mean, hollow?”
Gazing once more into her cerulean eyes, I chuckled darkly, in an almost sinister manner. “I mean I’m not insane, yet. Though, I don’t think I shall last long, at this rate.”
The first princess spoke in turn, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “Then where have you come from? And are there more of you out there?”
I switched my gaze to her. “Not here, I suppose. And there were many of us, so many. But, I would assume they’re all burned to ash now.” I leaned back, bracing myself against my hands. “That, or they’re without a light.”
It was interesting to see, that the two princesses reacted so differently. For while the brighter one, larger than her sister, hardened her gaze even more, the second looked at me with only abound curiosity.
“I should think you have tales of undead creatures?” I asked, a somber smile upon my mouth. They nodded, and I continued. “Well, be glad they’re only tales. Your entire world could end, if they were more than dreams and nightmares told in the dark.
I don’t remember the rest of our short-lived conversation being of much substance. The first princess had asked fleeting questions, our talk brief in manner. Soon after, the princesses had left, their entourage following briskly on their tails. Doors shut, lights flickered off, and I was left once more in the silent darkness, with only my thoughts to accompany me.
But the smaller princess, her form so reminiscent of the night, and silent after her first questions, had looked back upon me one last time. Her expression was of curiosity and interest, and perhaps a notion of pity. I expected to see her again.
If only Hawkwood, my dearest of friends, could hear me now. He had always been the more downcast and despondent of the two of us. I laughed to myself in the cold, quiet darkness. The malevolence of my voice surprised even myself, its tone dismal and grave. It was then, that I realized what I was.
I was rather surprised at how quickly it happened.
One moment, I had merely been thinking, pondering on what I was to do. The next, it seemed like I had briefly lost my mind. I do not recollect clearly what exactly I had done, but I “woke up” crawling along the ground, my mouth curled into a vicious snarl as my hands clutched the bars of my cell.
I was scared, to say the least. I did not realize that I would hollow so quickly, so soon, after I had lost purpose. It had not been the case when I had first become undead—it had taken weeks, months until the first laces of sanity were unwoven.
I do not know what prompted my brief bout of madness. Perhaps the darkness of my cell, my cold isolation, might have spurred it on. Or, perchance, my knowledge that I was in a completely different world, with creatures far beyond my realm of knowledge and belief, began my descent rather quickly.
Whatever it was, I was scared. Fearful, afraid for my own life and rationality. I had always prided myself on my mental prudence, but here I was, losing myself within days.
It had not happened again, to my knowledge. Many hours had passed since then, and a guard, armored in golden plate and mail, had even descended into my cell, bringing with him a platter of food for me. Old vegetables and stale bread, it had been, but I did not care. I had no need for food, not as an undead. Few things could truly sate my wants, my needs.
If only I still bore my treasured flask of estus.
The sun had fallen, my cell left with only a pleasant blue sheen for light, when I heard the clip-clop of hooves outside. Not the stomping hooves of a guard or soldier, but elegant little steps, subtle and quiet. It was as if my visitor did not want others to know they were coming. I was sat on my rump, my hands poking at the stale, molded bread before me, when she rounded the corner.
Before, when I had first seen her, she had looked rather plain, compared to her sister. The sun had been up then, but now, in the pale light of the moon and stars, she looked like a goddess for my salvation. Soft sapphires of blue and silver adorned her body, and her horn shone like a crystalline star. Her eyes glowed in the darkness, and I found myself drawn to her. Standing up, I walked as close as I could, placing a hand against the bars of my cell.
“What brings you here, princess?”
She was silent for a few moments, looking at me with a strange composition of emotions. Pity, for one, and curiosity for another. She looked a bit fearful, but appeared as though she was hiding it.
“Sit, please,” she spoke, her voice like a lovely wisp of nightly breezes. “I wish to speak with you, and I’d rather you be comfortable for our talk.”
For some unknown reason I followed her request, backing away and taking my usual seat on the cold stone beneath my feet. Crossing my legs, I held my hands together like an eager pupil. “Very well. What do you wish to speak about?”
She hesitated for a moment, before gently sitting on the ground on the other side of my cell. Her wings settled against her coat. “Many things. I hope you have the time?”
“I have nothing but time, princess,” I replied, spreading my arms wide. “Though, I’d rather not have to call you ‘princess’ every time. May I ask what you are called, your highness?”
“I am Luna,” she answered, a small smile upon her mouth. “Princess of the Moon and the Night.” She took a sorrowful expression. “I am sorry that you cannot remember your own name.”
I shook my head, waving my hands in dismissal. “It’s of no fault of your own. I’m sure I’ll remember in time,” I said. “So, Princess Luna of the Moon, how shall we begin? A question? Statement? A threat, perhaps?”
“I’d like to learn more about you,” Luna replied, leaning a tiny bit closer. “I have many questions, and I’d like to see them answered, if possible.”
“Go on, then. Ask your first.”
Luna sat quietly for several seconds, before looking back up at me. “Earlier, when my sister and I had come to talk to you. You had told my sister that you did not come from here. And that there were more of you.” Gesturing towards me with a hoof, she continued. “Where exactly do you come from? And why were there so many… undead?”
I did not answer at first, only chuckling darkly. “That, in and of itself, Princess Luna, is a long, long story,” I finally said, leaning back on my hands. “Suffice to say, things are not good back home. Would you like to hear my story?”
Luna nodded eagerly, looking almost like a dog asking for crumbs from a dinner table. “Yes, if you’d like!” She caught herself, though, coughing lightly before reassuming her regal visage. “I mean, yes. I’d like to hear this story of yours.”
“Very well,” I looked up, taking a deep breath. “Prepare yourself. This may take a while.”
And thus, I told her of my world, of my home. I told Luna of legends, of tales that I, as a young man, praised and followed like a moth to a flame. The nations, the kingdoms, the men that molded great, legendary empires that spanned the entire globe. A king who had conquered a continent with his holy crown, of scholars who channeled entire archives to better others’ lives. I told her of myself, a young man, searching eagerly for his place in the wide, wonderful world.
But then, it had all gone wrong. I told Luna of the gods, of the Lord’s own sin. I told her of the lie, the lie that had brought down millennia of civilization, that which had fooled man. Like a bear caught in a trap, we had fallen for the gods’ falsehoods, perpetuated their pitiful Age of Fire. I told my hostess of the Abyss and the Abyss Watchers, my brothers. How we burned kingdoms down to prevent the spread of dark, how we, as undead, found our purpose. How, without it, we would have hollowed, gone insane, killed ourselves off like pawns in the gods’ games.
Finally, I told Luna of my brothers’ and mine suffering. We burned for the lie, ignorant of our fool’s errands. We screamed, we pained, and when we arose, to sate the lie once more, we were hollowed, killing each other in a deadly massacre.
By the end of it all, a cool morning light had begun to sift in from my window. Day had come, the sun rising. I had not seen the sun in a long time, but I felt warm, pleased. Perhaps it was the sun’s warmth, stronger than it had ever been back home.
Or maybe it was just the relief I felt, having opened my mind to another being who cared. I had not opened my heart yet, if it still existed. But maybe that was still to come.
Luna looked at me with solemn eyes, a hint of moisture patterning her irises. She made to speak. A relief, since my throat was parched, my tongue dry.
“What will you do now?” she asked, holding a hesitant hoof out towards me.
I looked away, having long lost my dry demeanor. “I don’t know. I find myself wanting in this new land. But,” I trailed off, angling my sight out the window. “I just know that, without a purpose, I will hollow soon. I will lose my mind, and then I will be truly lost. Perhaps, I’ll need to find something to do here, if I’m ever let out.”
The princess merely nodded, before rising to her hooves. “Keep hope, my friend. I think there is hope for you yet.” She turned away from me. “I must take my leave now. I’m afraid my sister will call for me, and I may have neglected my own duties in speaking with you.” She bowed her head. “It has been a pleasure.”
Once more, I was left in my cell’s darkness, with only the sun’s light to comfort me. Laying down on my back, I closed my eyes.
“I could say the same, princess.”
Princess Luna walked at a brisk pace through the Royal Palace, her silver heels clicking elegantly upon the marble floor. She could feel the eyes of her guards on her, watching for her safety, yet Luna did not feel at all at ease.
She had learned much from the undead, as he had called himself. Very little of it was pleasing, and very much of it disturbed her. His world had quite literally ended, yet here he was, aimless in nature. Luna was disgusted, fearful, at even the prospect of such a world, but she felt immense pity for the undead.
Luna was unsure of what she would do. On one hand, it would be quite easy to ignore the problem, the dilemma, altogether. Yet, that was not what she stood for! Since the beginning of time, Luna had urged for the safety and protection of her and her sisters’ little ponies, wanting only for their love and appreciation. She had made a mistake once, and she would not make it again.
But the undead, Luna felt, deserved more than mere pity. She would help him, Luna decided. But how? That was the issue, indeed. Luna was not sure her sister would agree with her own judgements. Celestia was wary, the safety of her subjects and her kingdom always at the forefront of her mind. Their talk the other night had only cemented Luna’s belief that Celestia did not trust the undead, not for one second. It was likely her sister would deeply disapprove of her visit in the dead of night.
“Luna!” Speak of the devil, Luna groaned in frustration. Turning around, she came face to face with her sister, the Princess of the Sun.
“Yes, sister?” Luna asked, smiling lightly. “What do you need?”
Stepping closer, Celestia approached Luna with a concerned expression. “Luna, where have you been? The Night Court was without a princess, and I could not find you anywhere in the castle!”
Luna scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Oh, the Night Court. Celestia, there are never any ponies looking for assistance. It wouldn’t have mattered, if I were there or not.”
Sighing deeply, Celestia placed a hoof upon her forehead. “That doesn’t matter, Luna. What if somepony had come? They would have arrived with no princess in sight, no help at hand!” Moving her hoof to Luna’s shoulder, Celestia leaned in. “Where were you, anyways? You weren’t in your quarters, or in the garden, or on the balcony—“
“I talked to the prisoner, sister,” Luna interrupted, grasping Celestia’s hoof with her own. Gently, she removed it from her shoulder, though did not let go. “I was curious, and I wanted to learn more.”
Surprised, Celestia leaned her head back, an expression of disbelief upon her face. “Talked? To our prisoner, the undead?” Luna nodded. “What for, Luna? I told you, I do not trust him. Equestria doesn’t need an undead crisis on its hooves. We’ve had enough trouble as it is within these last few years!”
“And it won’t,” Luna reassured her, taking a step backwards. “I learned much from the undead, and I can safely say he won’t be a problem. But, I must ask something of you, Tia.”
Celestia took a deep breath, closing her eyes before finally nodding. “Okay. For you, Lulu. What do you need?”
“The undead will need a purpose. That is for a reason that I may tell you in time, but he will need something to do,” Luna answered, smiling at Celestia. “I will talk to him a bit more, and I will decide what to make of it. But, Celestia, you must promise me, allow me to take him in if I decide to.”
“Take him in?” Celestia questioned, tilting her head in confusion. “What for? What will he do?”
Shaking her head, Luna frowned. “I do not know yet. Perhaps as a guard, or something. He was a member of a band of formidable fighters in his own world, perhaps we can make use of him here.”
Princess Celestia did not answer for several long seconds, contemplating her decision. After what seemed like an eternity to Luna, she finally nodded, giving Luna a warm smile.
“Very well, sister. I’ll trust your judgement. I don’t understand why you feel this way, but I’ll trust you.”
Elated, Luna broke out into a wide smile, standing on the tips of her hooves. “Oh, thank you, Celestia. I promise you, this isn’t a mistake.”
“But Luna,” Celestia warned, narrowing her eyes. “If this goes bad, we will need to stomp it out quickly. I don’t want to burden the Elements with even more work, so we will need to take matters into our own hooves.”
Nodding solemnly, Celestia left, leaving Luna to her own thoughts.
It was getting much, much worse. I was losing my composure, I was losing my sanity. Every day, the burning circle on my neck boiled like a searing blister, a blazing fire on my flesh. The darksign knew that I was without hope, without purpose, and it punished me for it.
This morning, I had not awoken as I usually had, lying about on the stone floor. When I came to, my hands were clawing against the walls, a low snarl erupting from my throat. I had been scraping at the stone with my fingers, and they bled. I felt pain now, but it was nothing to the worry, the absolute fear I bore within my heart.
Any day now, I would lose my sanity. I was afraid, afraid for my life and myself. I had thrown myself into a corner of my cell and covered my face with my hands, clutching at my head like a crazed madman.
That was what I would become soon enough, was it not? A ravenous hollow, a creature of dark. I could already feel my flesh thinning, my strength waning. I was truly terrified, and I knew not when I would last know my own mind.
And it had happened again—several times in fact. I could count on more than one hand the amount of times I lost my mind, if only for a brief moment. It was only fortunate that the equine guards did not patrol this quarter of the dungeon, for I was sure that they would have put me down like an animal if they had witnessed it.
Now, I was curled up on my pitiful excuse for bedding, desperately clutching at my head with my two hands. My mind reeled, twirling through the excesses of my memories in a frantic attempt to hold onto my self. What was I, who had I been? Before I was an Abyss Watcher, before I was an accursed undead, who had I been? Maybe, just maybe, if I could remember, then perhaps I would not hollow so soon.
I remembered threads and laces, tiny bits of cerebrum that defined who I was. I recollected a town, a village, deep within the heart of a nation. Blue, dragons, a golden crest. Nobles, knights, a warrior’s breast. Where had it been? What had it been called?
“Where—where had I lived?” I stuttered incorrigibly, my eyes darting back and forth as I struggled to recollect. “Ast—Astora, maybe. That’s a—that’s a name, right? A familiar one?”
Astora, a name, a possible home. A grand city in the far distance, ruled by highborn nobles. Home to marvelous grandeur, hearth to noble knights. It was no wonder that I had been brought up on such magnificent tales of legend. Yet, the nation was failing, having already fallen in the past to unknown curse and indefinite disease. It was not the grand country as it had once been, and it would never be so again. A distant memory of a fond home.
Crying in excitement, I pulled harder at the threads of my mind, my clutch on my knees turning my flesh white. My mouth was stretched wide, a brazen smile or assaulted frown I did not know. “What else, what else... a job? Pages, books, messages—I was a page!” I lurched onto my side, my hands scrabbling at the cold ground as I struggled to catch myself.
What else was there, hiding in the depths of my cognizance? A job, a title—perhaps as a boy. I was a page once, I knew that much, and I had elevated myself even higher, an aid to a knight.
“What had they called me?” I muttered, sitting back up. “A squirrel, a squint—a squire! That—that was what I had been, a squire under a knight! Bearing his shield, his armor, his arms! Magnificent blue, golden cloth upon plate!” A pained, yet elated grunt emerged from between my lips, my teeth clenched in furious concentration.
I had commonly visited a blacksmith, the only one of my town. He had been a kind man, and was the only one I trusted with my master’s equipment. There was another, however, a grizzled veteran of smithing. White hair, a bare, muscled chest. What had they called him? I did not recollect. But a name floated somewhere within, the two blacksmiths having called me by it.
‘Prithee, Quinn, you’re hitting the boy’s sword too hard with that hammer. Loosen up a bit, and throw a bit of titanite in there, too.’
‘I know what I’m doing, old man. I’ve repaired this sword often enough. Roland seems to trust only me with his knight’s weapons.’
Roland? Quite possibly my name, and a small grin crept across my mouth. It was a start, and I would use it. There was nothing else on hand, and I wouldn’t want Luna to call me “watcher” or “undead,” as it was. I would have to tell Luna my name—I was sure she would be elated!
And that brought my mind back to her. My only companion through the past few days, my only connection to the outside world. I knew her somewhat well, and we had shared stories in the night. She had visited thrice before, excluding her first foray into the depths of my dungeon, and I had come to enjoy her stays. Luna was a pleasant sort and, quite possibly, was the only reason I hadn’t hollowed yet.
My desperate struggles to remember my past, my near incoherent babbles in clawing through the depths of my mind, did nothing to stave off the darksign. I had to give myself a purpose, where there was none—and I knew that I would not last much longer. Yet, every time Luna visited, I could feel the darkness ebbing away, its smoky tendrils lifting from my mind, if only for a brief while. Even now, the mere thought of the princess gave me a slightly more lucid mind, and a warm feeling in my breast.
She was a friend, I knew, and friends were seldom found in the horrific realms marred by the fading of light, the dying of fire. I had many friends once, within the ranks of the Abyss Watchers. That, accompanied with our goals, our purpose, allowed us to survive the hold the darksign bore on us.
We had talked about much, during her visits. She had told me a bountiful amount of the outside world. Equestria, as it was called—a land of ponies, a land of magic. In her own words, it was a wonderful world, with adventure lying in wait around every corner. Stories of her sister and herself were plentiful, as well as of the modern happenings of the world. Politics, culture, the ever-growing bounds of the greatest cities of the land. It was clear Luna loved her realm, and she loved her sister.
How very quaint.
Yet, it was also clear that Luna did not feel completely at ease. The tone of her voice, upon every detail of Equestria, carried with it a certain bound of solitude and uncertainty. Her stories of her sister, Celestia, were marred by inflections of doubt and anxiety. What the issue was, I did not know, and I was not privy to any information. I did not want to prod.
I did not know when Luna would visit next. Perhaps it would be tonight. Maybe tomorrow. Or, perchance, she would not return, at least for a while, and her next stop in the dungeons would greet her with a mutilated husk of a man, insane and mad and lost of his will.
I just prayed it wouldn’t be the latter.
I was stirred from my torrid slumber by a warm feeling, growing closer by the second. Oily wisps of dark retreated from my mind, disappearing from my nightmares. She was coming, I knew, and I sat up, waiting for her arrival.
After several moments of silence, the sounds of hooves were audible, low clip-clops echoing throughout the dungeon. I watched as Luna rounded the corner, finally visible from my cell. A small smile was upon her face, and she herself looked rather eager. Coming to a stop before my cell, Luna nodded her head.
“Hello, dear Watcher.” Watcher—I had told Luna to call me by that name, until I could remember my own. It was fortunate that I could finally share my name. “Enjoying my night?”
I shrugged, tilting my head. “As much as I could whilst asleep. Though, I was not sure you would come at all.”
“What, and miss our conversations?” she replied, a hint of amusement in her voice. The horn upon her head began to glow with an ethereal light, and my cell’s door opened. Luna walked in and sat down opposite me. “Not at all. Though, I have been quite busy these past few days.”
My interest was piqued. “May I ask with what, Luna?” I queried.
“Nothing you should worry yourself with,” Luna said, shaking her head. Her ears perked towards me in attention. “How have you been yourself?”
I chuckled grimly, spreading my arms and motioning around my cell. “Oh, you know. Rotting in this cell. Sleeping. Counting the cracks in the ceiling. It’s been rather alright.” My brows furrowed, and I frowned.
Luna, for her part, looked apologetic, matching my frown with her own. “And I am sorry, Watcher. I’d hope you haven’t been too lonely?”
“You are one of two companions of mine these days, Luna. I could warrant loneliness is the other.”
Nodding her head glumly, Luna looked away. I felt somewhat ashamed of myself, scolding my mind for such harsh words. Reaching a hand out, I laid it upon one of her forehooves.
“I remembered my name.” I told her, and watched as her ears pricked to attention, her eyes widening when she looked back up at me.
“You did?” Luna asked with wonder, her ears slowly swiveling towards me. “May I ask what your name is, then?”
I gave a chuckle, taking a moment to cross my legs. “At least, I think it is my name. I do not remember very clearly, but I presume that my name is Roland.”
Luna whinnied in excitement, clapping her hooves rapidly. “This is wonderful! Oh, happy day!” Her eyes were closed, and her mouth was curled into a smile as she clapped. It looked rather adorable, though I was immediately ashamed of my thoughts.
After a moment, however, Luna took on a perplexed expression, an eyebrow raised as she tilted her head. “Though, I cannot say that name is a familiar one. ‘Roland,’ I have never heard anything like it.”
“I can say the same for your ponies’ naming habits. The captain of the guard you told me about—Shining Armor?” She nodded in affirmation. “What an odd name. As are the rest that you told me of.”
We laughed in unison, our voices echoing throughout the dungeons. It was clear that I enjoyed my time with Luna, and we continued to converse throughout that night. Our time together passed quickly, however—much too quickly for my liking. Several hours later, the moon had begun to fall, brought down by Luna’s own magic. The sun had risen, high and mighty in the blue sky. Yet, it only felt like minutes.
“Now Roland,” Luna said, rising from her seat on the ground. “It is time that I make my leave. Do take care of yourself without me.”
“Always,” I replied, happy with our talks yet disappointed that she was leaving. “When will you visit next?”
Luna shook her head, a smile upon her face. “I do not know. But, I do know that my next visit will be my last.”
Instantly, I took a concerned expression, though I tried to hide it. “What? May I ask why, Luna?”
She backed out of my cell, a rather mischievous expression upon her. “Your time in this dungeon grows short, Roland. Your imprisonment will not last much longer. Soon enough, I will be able to show you Equestria as it really is, and more than through words.”
I watched as Luna left, her form disappearing around the corner. I wondered what she meant, confused, yet I was also hopeful.
I woke up later in the day, feeling quite hopeful. Luna’s words echoed in my mind, and my slumber had been quaint. For once, my dreams had not been plagued by nightmares and fits of hysteria—they had been soothing, indigo waves of restful hues rolling through my mind. I had been accompanied by a warm companion in my slumber, and though I was not completely sure who, or what, it had been, I could surmise who it was.
The hope that Luna’s words gave me seemed to have prevented any further outbursts from my darksign. The entire day, from the moment Luna had departed till this very second, I had possessed a lucid mind, and my flesh was warm with life. I simply prayed that the hope would last, and I would be given a purpose before the end of it all.
The sun’s cleansing light poked through the holes in my cell window, its warm rays dimming by the second. They were no longer golden—red and orange tints lining the light told me that it was late into the afternoon, and the sun was beginning to set. Luna had told me how she and her sister controlled the moon and sun respectively. A revelation that had surprised me greatly, yet made sense considering their livery.
The sun back home had always been a curiosity. In the days of my youth, it had been a powerful source, ablaze with life and vitality. On some days, it seemed to have grown tenfold in size, its heat a blessing upon our skin. Yet, as the darksign appeared and the undead arose within our populace, the sun grew weaker, its light fainter by the day. The lands grew colder, and life seemed to fade from the land. By the end of it all, the sun had been a reflection of the dark, a black hole in the sky ringed by fire.
Few realized that life and time had been so connected to light. Fewer still knew what to make of it, and I, for one, had been ignorant of it all.
Sighing, I sat up, placing my hands upon my knees. I felt a slight chill, rolling in from my cell’s window. The dungeons were still dark, and it was clear by now that I was the only prisoner. Guards did not patrol this quarter of the dungeons, save the occasional food-bearer. I presumed that no one knew of Luna’s visits in the night.
Luna had told me a little of the dungeons, and like a child I had listened attentively, as I did with all of her tales and explanations. They hadn’t been used much in recent time, and the princesses possessed little need of them. I had been the first prisoner in ages, though Luna was not completely sure of the validity of that statement.
I did not even understand how I had come to appear in Equestria. Luna had explained that I had simply materialized in the middle of their court, my armor upon my body and my weapons beside me. They had stripped me of my precious gear, finding long-rotted hints of blossom and petal within my pockets and a curious, yet empty, bottle of warm sunlight.
I would miss my estus. I bore no necessity for food and drink, and the hay and grass the guards delivered to my cell were less than edible for my kind. Yet, estus was the lifeblood of the undead, and one of the few things I cherished.
It was unfortunate, to say the least.
I had remained awake for the rest of the day, and night had quickly fallen soon after my vivification. It had developed into a tempestuous evening, wind roaring angrily in the valley outside. Rain pittered and pattered, occasionally dripping into my cell. A puddle had formed below my window, and every so often, a deafening crash boomed outside, accompanied by a bright flash of light.
I was roused from my thoughts by an echo in the hall, hooves marching upon the stone. To my surprise, it was not the singular resonance of elegant steps, as would signify Luna, but a cacophonous chorus of brash stomps, a crowd of steel-booted hooves. The guards were coming, to what end I did not know. Yet, Luna’s words echoed in my mind, soothing my pacing heart as it threatened to beat faster and faster.
They rounded the corner, red torches in their grasps. Shadows danced across the wall, revealing themselves to be the guards. Golden armor upon their bodies, they lined themselves before my cell, their glares hard upon me. There were six of them. What would happen? Why were they here?
“Prisoner!” one finally barked, stepping forwards. A red plume sat upon his helmet, a stark contrast from the blue of his fellows. “Get up.” His words were brief, sharp and commanding. Heeding his instructions, I rose from the ground, disturbing the dirt and dust upon me. I took a step towards the cell door, but the guard raised a hoof.
“Stop right there. Don’t move an inch.” He nodded towards another guard, who promptly approached the door. A pair of keys jangled in his hooves, and one was inserted into my cell’s door. With a metallic screech, the door swung open.
Two guards entered my cell, a glinting object in their grasp. Approaching, one turned me around, tightly grasping my wrists. Forcefully, a pair of metal objects were clamped around my hands, biting into my flesh. I winced, the pain a shock.
“Can’t care to be at least a bit more careful, can you?” I asked, before turning around. The lead guard, a white horn upon his head, frowned, glaring at me.
“Follow us, and don’t try anything,” he ordered, motioning towards the others. The two guards holding onto me led me forwards, and we departed the cell, making our way through the dungeons.
The rest of the prison was as I suspected. Dark, gloomy, and evidently unused. We followed a winding path, crossing this way and that way. There were several flights of stairs on the way, and the higher we rose, the lighter it became. Torches developed into a commonality, and cold, dusty and bare stone was replaced by solid tile and swept floors.
“Is this entire prison within a mountain?” I asked, unable to resist my curiosity. It had certainly seemed that way, and my few glances out my cell window had shown me naught but valleys and air.
The red-plumed guard looked back at me, nodding slightly. “It is. The Royal Dungeons lie beneath the city of Canterlot and the Palace, connected directly to the Guard Barracks. Even further beneath us is an extensive system of caves and mines.”
Satisfied with his answer, I elected to remain silent for the rest of our journey. Soon enough, we had reached a large door, its wooden boards supported by steel bars. A pair of guards stood on either side, their spears crossed over it.
One saluted, his hoof held over the horn upon his forehead. “Captain.” His horn lit alight with an ethereal light, and the door before us swung open.
Returning the guard’s salute, Red-Plume, as I had chosen to name him, nodded. “Thank you, Private.”
I was interested. A military-esque ranking hierarchy—the Abyss Watchers had borne such a system of their own, yet it had not mattered as much as one might have in a traditional army. To see that the princesses liked to keep their own order was notable, and it only made me wonder, even more, what was laid in store for me.
Our entourage passed through the door, and I was rather surprised by the change in environment. Stone floors had become marble tiles, and dust-laden brick had become lush red carpet. Evidently, my mouth had hung a tad far open, and the Captain looked at me with an amused expression.
“Not used to such grandeur, eh?” he remarked, a slight tilt in his voice. “Welcome to the Royal Palace.”
I marveled at my environs, my eyes wide. No, indeed, I was not used to such “grandeur.” Perhaps I might have, had my world not been plagued by the Undead Curse. Perchance, in another life, I might have been privy to the inner-workings of kingly courts and royal occasions. Yet, I was not, and I knew nothing of them. Those very kingdoms had fallen to ruin, mighty citadels of purple regality now nothing more than wistful dreams. I was accustomed to derelict keeps, ashen plains and burning homesteads.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the Captain still looking at me, a curious gaze in his eyes. Realizing that I had not answered his question, I coughed.
“No, not really,” I said, my steel around my bare wrists cold. “I can’t say I’ve ever found myself in a palace before. It’s nice.”
He nodded solemnly, frowning. “I can see that. The Princess has told me a little bit of where you came from…” he looked away, restarting his march. “Sounded horrible.”
I did not answer, merely following him. We continued on our way, and my eyes glazed over the fanciful architecture of the palace. Stately stained glass windows bordered the corridor through which we walked, depicting a spectrum of events and incidents. Interest boiled within me, and though I kept it down, I still resolved to learn about them later.
Eventually, we arrived within a large room. Banners streamed from the ceiling, and far to my left, a pair of large doors were shut closed, flanked by a pair of guards. My gaze shifted up a small set of stairs, upon two thrones.
One was golden, its cushions a bright violet. It was empty, as it was, and the crest of a blazing sun sat above it. To its right was another throne, this one a dark indigo. The emblem of a moon accented its details, and a wide smile came upon me when I saw who sat upon the throne.
“Your highness!” the Captain bowed his head, leading me before the thrones. I copied his actions, slightly nodding my head. “I’ve brought the prisoner, as you’ve asked.” Standing behind me, I could hear the slight hum of magic, and the chains around my hands were released.
Princess Luna sat up, her eyes glowing. Rising from her throne, she approached with a grin. “Thank you, Captain Steelhooves. You are dismissed,” she said, nodding at the Captain. He saluted again, motioning towards his compatriot before departing. Luna watched them leave, before turning to me.
“Princess Luna,” I greeted, smiling at her. “Looks like you were right.”
She nodded, her eyes twinkling. “Yes, as I always am. But, do you know why I’ve brought you out here in the first place?” she asked, a wry look upon her.
I shook my head, unaware of any reason why she might have. “I lack any understanding. Care to tell me?”
Luna raised an eyebrow, before motioning towards me. “Come. Follow me,” she said, turning around and walking away. I followed her, coming to a brisk walk beside her. She led me through a side door, opposite the one from whence the Captain had led me.
Arriving in a long corridor, empty of any being, Luna stopped and turned around, a rather confusing expression upon her face. She looked as if she were trying to be official. She was not successful, to say the least.
“Roland of Astora,” she declared in a commanding voice. “I have a proposal for you.”
Slowly, I raised an eyebrow, unsure as to what Luna was planning. “Yes, Luna?”
She began again, raising her chin. “It has come to my attention that Canterlot needs somepony to fill an office of considerable respect. The Guard and the Royal Armory require somepony with substantial knowledge of arms and battle, and I know of somepony who may be just right for the job.”
After a moment, I crossed my arms, tilting my head. “And that would be?”
Luna was most evidently grasping at straws, her words a desperate attempt to persuade me. It was obvious that she beheld a guise of confidence, yet I could see right through it. “I propose that you, Roland, take the newly minted office of Lord Pursuivant! I firmly believe that you are the right match for the job.”
I gave a low sigh, looking down. I could feel Luna’s gaze upon me, anxious and uncertain. I did not know why she was doing this—it seemed false, a counterfeit offer. I was sure of one thing, however.
“I do not believe you,” I said simply, looking up at Luna. She recoiled back in shock, her eyes wide. Her mouth hung open, and she took a disturbingly fearful expression. “Luna, may I ask why you are doing this?”
“Wha—what do you mean?” she stuttered, her false air of confidence nowhere in sight. “I—I truly think that you are best for this office!”
I shook my head, placing a hand upon her. “Luna, it appears to me as if you are buttering me up, trying to persuade me for something that has not been truly thought through,” I said, taking a step closer. “If such an office had truly opened up, would a man such as I really be the right choice?” She nodded, but I could see the doubt in her eyes. “I’m not even a pony, and you’ve barely known me for, what, how many days? Three? Four?”
“But there is no pony else who could take such a position! No pony is more qualified than you!”
Frowning, I shook my head again. “Luna, you can cease this charade. I am sure there are plenty of ponies who would be more than capable for this position. But I can see through you—you are nervous, unsure of yourself. You speak of Equestria in a doubtful light. So, tell me, what are you really trying to do?”
She stared into my eyes for several seconds longer, before finally sighing. Luna looked away, and her shoulders slumped.
“Roland,” she began, in a much more subtle tone. “How long do you think I have ruled Equestria?”
I shrugged. I did not know. “Well, from what you have told me, I can only guess that you and Celestia have ruled for millennia.”
Luna scoffed, an angry, frustrated snort of air that chilled my bones. “Oh, how very nice,” she muttered, before looking back at me. “Roland, I may have lived for as long, but I have only been ruling Equestria for a few months now.”
Perplexed, I tilted my head. “What do you mean?”
“I only retook my throne near ten months ago. Before then, I was imprisoned. As you were,” Luna explained, a sorrowful inflection in her voice. “A thousand years ago, I ruled Equestria alongside my sister. But that all ended when I made a mistake.”
I replaced my hand upon her, finding that she might have been in need of comfort. “And what of it? You are back in power, are you not? What is the issue?”
Luna looked into my eyes, and I could see the frustration and distress within her. “It means that I have no pony to turn to. All of my friends, the ponies I knew so well—they are long gone, passed through time. I returned to Equestria pure once more, but I knew of no pony, and I knew nothing of the world around us,” she said. “Even now, I am learning about Equestria’s history, from my fall to my return. I am still learning the vernacular, learning to speak like them. But, besides that, I have few friends, few ponies that I can rely on, that I can truly feel safe falling upon.”
“Don’t you have your sister?” I asked, confused. “Is she not someone that you can trust?”
She shook her head, tears beginning to form in her eyes. At first, I had taken Luna to be a confident princess, a royal ruler of her land. Now, however, I knew her vexation, her inability to discern her own reign.
“I can, Roland,” Luna answered. “But she is so often too busy, and we find ourselves with little time for each other. I have made forays into Equestria, attempts to find camaraderie with our little ponies. I have had moderate success, but my ponies, most of them do not see me like a friend. I am still their ruler, and I cannot truly rely on them for support.”
Finally understanding her plight, I nodded. “I understand. And you feel that I can, perhaps, be your friend?”
I have had many friends throughout my life. Many were fleeting, occasional partners through trial and tribulation. Most, however, were Abyss Watchers like I, my brothers in blood. Hawkwood was my dearest of them all, and I realized now that I missed him greatly. I knew now why Luna would see me as such a friend—I had treated her like no pony in this land would, listening to her tales and feeding her my own.
“Yes!” Luna exclaimed, sounding very much as if a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She was palpably relieved, smiling at me. “I… Roland, I just want a friend, somepony that I can really trust. And I was hoping that you could be one of them.” She sniffled, evidently embarrassed. “You even, kind of, speak like I do.”
I returned her warm smile, nodding at her. “Then it will be so. I don’t need the fancy titles, and I don’t need any real position of worth. I’ll be your friend, and it will matter.”
Luna gave an odd sound, very much like a squeal of excitement. She rushed at me, and I was not prepared to feel her hooves wrap around my stomach and my back. I tried my best, though, to return her hug. My heart felt rather warm, and it was a curious sensation.
My eyes glazed over the steel helmet, discerning the various details upon it. I laid a finger upon the cold metal, running it up and down. Strange cracks lined its form, black tendrils of dark hardened upon its surface. I gave a chuckle, memories flashing through my mind as I handled the familiar pointed helm—an ill omen to the masses.
At the moment, I was in the Ancillary Armory, a small sanctuary for the Palace Guards to keep their arms close. Called the Ancillary for short, it was a small little room—dark, drab, and quite the stark contrast from the rest of the castle. Weapons, clearly designed for equine beings, lined the walls, and suits of pony armor were arranged upon little stands. A long table sat in the middle of the room, under a dim, orange candlelight.
I set my helm upon the table and looked down upon myself. I wore the distinct attire of the Undead Legion, bequeathed unto me upon my induction into their hallowed ranks. A black-dyed leather cuirass over chainmail protected my chest and stomach, while leather guards covered my legs, my knees supported by a pair of worn and severely scratched iron poleyns. A crimson cloak was sported upon my back, dark vines similar to those upon my helm lined upon it.
It interested me to see the Abyss’ effect on my armor, a visual manifestation of our insanity proceeding our resurrection. That we were consumed by that which we fought, was a testament to our failings. Our efforts in combating the Abyss had, ultimately, been for naught—Farron had been subsumed by a rotting bog. Darkwraiths patrolled the wood, our followers and disciples malformed into unsightly beasts.
Yet, curiously enough, they had still been loyal. Through the passing of time, our aides had protected what Farron had become, guarding our chambers of rest. It was a monument to the devotion that the Watchers had borne, the single objective that had brought us all together and bound us by blood.
I could only hope that I could find a purpose as meaningful, as commanding of my mind. Perhaps I would find that purpose in Equestria—perchance by way of being Luna’s friend. Naught but four days in this land, and she was already dear to my heart.
I returned my gaze to the table before me, my eyes landing on three separate objects. One, a wedge-shaped dagger, a sinister look about it. Its angled point was worn, yet still sharp, and its oaken hilt pale from age. Another, a small, yellow bottle, glowing like an otherworldly sun. Regrettably, it was empty, and I only wondered how I would come to find a supply of it. A bonfire, perhaps?
The last was a large sword, and with a smile upon me, I picked it up. Its edges were sharp, and marked by a strange metal. Titanite, I knew it was, its strength foretold within legends of the gods. It was long, very long, and ornamental carvings dotted the blade. The Farron Greatsword was iconic of the Abyss Watchers, and was the core of our legion.
Hoofsteps interrupted my thoughts, and I looked up from my work. Two ponies had entered the armory, walking side by side. I noticed Luna first, a smile upon her.
“Greetings, Roland,” Luna said, coming to a stop across the table. “I hope your things haven’t been damaged?”
I shook my head. “No, they haven’t. My thanks, good confrere,” I said, returning Luna’s smile.
The princess nodded happily. “That’s good to hear,” she remarked. Then, she motioned towards her companion. “Roland, I would also like you to meet Miss Lily Pad. She is one of my personal aides.”
“N-nice to meet you, s-sir,” she stuttered, looking so very nervous. She was a pegasus, much smaller than the few others I had seen. Her visage was delicate and shy, and she seemed to avoid looking at me, preferring the sight of her hooves. Her coat was a pale, light blue, and her mane a duality of lush green and girlish pink.
“Charmed, Miss Pad,” I greeted her, nodding my head. Looking back at Luna, I gave her a questioning gaze. “And what do I owe the pleasure of meeting you two this morning?”
“I’ve managed to get ahold of a guest room within the palace. For the time being, I thought you should make it your home,” Luna explained, and my brows raised in interest. “I’ve instructed the servants to furnish it appropriately. Lily can take you to your room.”
I was happy with the revelation. “Really? Thank you, Luna. Though, if I may, I do have a question, of sorts.”
“Yes, Roland?”
I coughed, before speaking. “I would like to visit you, some time or another. When, perhaps, is a good time to see you?”
Luna took a contemplative expression, lifting a hoof to her chin. “Hm, I’m not very sure. I must attend to the Night Court late into the night, but afterwards, I am usually in my private study for a time,” she thought aloud. “Yes, that is a good time. Visit me in my private study after the Night Court. We can talk then.”
I nodded in affirmation, satisfied with her answer. “Very well. I will see you in your study.” Looking at Lily Pad, I smiled. “Now, shall we be off?”
The demure mare nodded, motioning towards the door. Giving Luna one last glance and a wave of my hand, I set my sword upon the table, beside the dagger and flask. It would not do well for me to take my weapons from the room—the guards were already on edge as it was, and a sword larger than themselves free in the halls of the palace would certainly not aid in that regard.
I made my way to follow Lily out of the Ancillary, eager to see where I would be staying.
I sat quietly upon the bed in my new room, a hand upon my chin. It had been a rather long walk from the Ancillary, and I was glad for the rest. Lily had led me through a winding multitude of stairs and towers, across near the entirety of the palace. She was a nice girl, though we had not talked as much as I would have liked. She was much too afraid of me, and far too interested in her hooves.
Quite frankly, the architecture of Canterlot puzzled me. The entire city looked to have been built into the mountainside, spiraling towers dominating the landscape. Buttresses and bridges, seemingly lofted by pure strength of marble support, weaved through the air like the webs of a spider. From the safety of my room’s window and balcony, I could see entire platforms of vibrant grass and cobbled street above swaths of open air below.
I was not sure whether to be entirely fearful for my life and those of the city’s ponies, or flabbergasted and dumbfounded by the equine denizens’ ingenuity. Perhaps it was a reminder of the magical nature of the land.
Indeed, I could feel the arcane laces of magic perforating the very air of Equestria. It was unlike anything I had known in my home, and though magic was common enough in Astora and the surrounding countries, it was never to the magnitude that dominated this new world.
The ponies themselves, as small and innocent as they were, beheld great magic within them. Their individual bodies and minds were bursting and brimming with esoteric sorcery and fae power I knew nothing of, yet I could feel the grand scale of ability within them. It was humbling, to say the least.
Perhaps it was for the best, that I was surrounded by such power. I did not know a purpose yet, and I did not know of how much use I would be if trouble were to appear. Mayhaps, I was not needed at all, and I could be satisfied as merely the good friend of a lonesome ruler. Perchance, I could take a rest from it all, and maybe see to it that my most simple of wants could be sated. I had not felt the pull of the darksign since my release from the dungeons, and I hoped that it would remain so.
Pulling myself out of my thoughts, I took a glance around the room Luna had bequeathed me. It was grandiose, more luxurious than any steading I had known before in my time. My bedding was large, thick white blankets of linen and cotton upon a red mattress. Four pillows lay scattered across the bed, two large and two small.
I was amused—in a matter of seconds, Luna had successfully doubled the amount of pillows and cushions I had owned in my life.
Besides that, a mahogany desk stood to the side of the room, bereft of any parchments or quills. Tall bookshelves stood to its sides, though deprived of books. Perhaps I could make a study—I knew I wanted to learn more about Equestria.
A chest lay in a corner, inlayed with gold, and opposite were a pair of drawers and cabinets. A wardrobe, once again of mahogany, sat opposite the bed, and upon the floor was a lush carpet, designs of mystical creatures patterned across its threads. A fireplace took up a final corner, alive with a vivid blaze.
I was not used to any home of this much luxury—in fact, I was quite taken aback by it all. I was not sure what to make of such a large room, and, to some degree, I was intimidated. It made sense, however, that a palace would bear such grand chambers, but I preferred to see myself as of a simpler sort, sated with snug spaces and homely, warm rooms.
Perhaps I would become accustomed to it in time. In the case of failure, I could always ask Luna if I could make my home in an armory such as the Ancillary.
And that, in fact, reminded me of my other wants. I yearned to learn, to know. I, quite embarrassingly enough, had enjoyed Luna’s stories, and I desired for more. Last we had talked, Luna had begun a tale of winter, and I wanted so very much for it all.
I had always loved stories. My brothers, the Watchers—some had mocked me for such child-like enjoyments. Yet I did not care, for I loved tales, legends, and poems. I had grown to be quite the reader, and as much as I loved the battles, the duels, the hunts, and our brotherly songs as Abyss Watchers of the Undead Legion, I loved the tapestries of color and thought my beloved stories could weave.
I would visit Luna this night, to continue our talks. I wanted to learn more of this Hearth’s Warming, and I wanted to pursue this friendship of ours. Perchance, I would regale Luna of a tale of my own—of Artorias, perhaps, and his tragic end.
I would also ask Luna about the archives—I had seen them on the way to my room, and I wanted to read.
The sun had risen quite high in the sky, and a pleasant warmth rolled across my body. Lovely rays of sunlight touched upon my face and cool, emerald grass swayed below my feet like fresh cushions of silk. Before me was a vast array of lush foliage and vibrant flora, wholly encased within tall, silvery walls. Colors sparkled under the bright sun, and I smiled with pleasure.
I decided, within myself, that I quite liked the Royal Gardens. Lily Pad had not lied about their beauty.
And, to add to the beauty, it was a rather quaint day. It cheered me up, to be frank, giddying my emotions.
Fingering a small, burlap sack within my hands, its skin rough and hard, I took several expeditionary sniffs, my eyes searching for my quarry. Blossoms were, most definitely, my main target, but I also searched eagerly for moss and pine trees.
I strolled through the viridian alleys of the garden, enjoying the pleasant day. Fruitful trees marked my way, fruits of peach and plum, ordinary lemons and rare lychees speckled across their boughs. I scanned the bushes, looking so very carefully for the little petal-joys that I knew I would find more than useful.
It took a little while, but I came across a selection of flowers, multifarious in color and size. With my gloved hands, I grabbed deftly upon their stems and petals, pulling the herbs apart piece by piece. With each pull, more and more buds and blossoms fell into my burlap sack, layered within like sheets of soft parchment. Enjoying myself, I hummed a little tune below my breath, making my way across the rows of bushes.
A few minutes had passed, my mind sunken deep into the quaint pleasure of my actions, when I noticed a presence nearby, its eyes stabbing deep into my back. Turning slowly, I settled my gaze upon the intruder, noting her pale blue coat and her dual-colored mane.
“Ah,” I breathed, a smile creeping across my lips. “Miss Lily Pad. A pleasure to see you here. What can I do for you?” I asked, giving her a friendly, half-dipped bow.
She merely stared at me, a rather peculiar expression upon her. She appeared to be incredulous, her mouth hung open and her brows arched. “Um,” Lily began, her eyes flicking between myself, the sack in my hands, and the bushes behind me. “I am very sorry to interrupt, I…”
Chuckling, I waved my hand in dismissal. “It appears you’ve caught me at a rather vulnerable time. Surprised, are we?” I turned around, my fingers adroitly grasping a burgeoning petal. Pulling it from the flower, I dropped the petals into my bag.
“I’m very sorry to ask, but… what are you doing?” Lily questioned, taking a step back.
“Pick-ing flow-ers,” I intoned, a rhythmic beat to my words. Spotting a particularly wonderful blossom, I grabbed the flower off its stem with a gleeful giggle.
“Oh,” Lily responded, my answer evidently not at all what she was looking for. “Well, in that case, please do go on.”
Looking back at her, I motioned for Lily to stay. “Nonsense. You’re here now, and I could use some company.” I gave her a wry wink, smirking. “I may also have a couple of questions.”
She did not answer, merely electing to sigh. Taking a few steps closer, Lily came to a stop beside me. Her eyes wandered across the flora and the sack in my hands, a curious expression within them.
“If… if I may ask, what are you picking flowers for?” Lily asked.
Smiling, I opened the bag, allowing her to peer in. “Not just flowers. Moss, grass, stems and roots,” I corrected Lily. “If prepared and ingested correctly, all of these herbs can be quite beneficial to the body.”
“In what way?” Lily questioned, a skeptical inflection to her voice. She did not believe me, and I could not blame her—plants and herbs could be used with strangely medicinal properties, but the likes of which I beheld in my bag were not those generally prepared for such snake-oil concoctions one might import from, say, the Far East, or the Great Swamp.
“Many ways,” I elected to respond, intentionally leaving my answer vague. “Perhaps a certain propensity for and to fire, or a magnified resistance to magic. If you’re a particularly resourceful one, with lofty goals, you could even aim to… help along your endurance and stamina.”
Lily’s eyes narrowed, taking a confused and perplexed veil as she looked away. “Lofty goals? Increased stamina?” she muttered, evidently bewildered and, if only a bit, perturbed.
“I don’t mean what you’re thinking I mean,” I reassured Lily, chuckling heartily. “Though, you shan’t worry about it anyways.”
Several more moments passed, during which Lily continued to mutter and whisper in confusion. I was beginning to grow worried, until she finally shook her head and whipped herself out of her trance. “You’re right, I won’t worry about it. In fact, I’d rather not worry about it.”
“That’s a good girl,” I laughed, and in the corner of my eye I could see Lily bristle, if only a tad bit. “Like I said, however. I do have a few questions, curiosities, if I may.”
Lily nodded, taking a seat on the grass below her. “Sure,” she said simply, a small smile upon her. “Why not.”
“Very well,” I placed a final flower into my sack, before turning to face Lily. “Simple enough questions, you shan’t have many to refrain from answering.”
“What’s the first?”
Smiling, I began. “I am curious—how long have you served Princess Luna?”
Lily tilted her head, her brows scrunching in thought. “I… I would guess, maybe, a few months now? Seven, maybe eight?” Frowning, Lily looked away. “I’m the third pony to serve as her personal aide.”
“What happened to the others?” Lily looked back at me, a hard gaze in her eyes. “If I may ask, of course.”
After a moment, she sighed, shrugging. “The first one had a panic attack. Broke down a couple of days into the job. The second mare refused to serve Luna—I think she was the eldest daughter of some noble family, or something.” Lily rolled her eyes. “Well, that’s only what I’ve heard. It’s not definite, what happened to the first two.”
Narrowing my eyes, I lowered my voice to a whisper. “And how do you feel? Working under Luna?”
Lily was silent for many seconds, before answering. “I… I’m very nervous, to be honest. She is the princess, after all,” she said. “But… I want to help her. She seems so lonely.” Lily looked at me, a peculiar gaze in her eyes. “She was very elated, the night you were brought out of the dungeons.”
“I am glad,” I said simply, a slight smile etched upon my lips. “That answers my question, thank you. Though, I do have another.” Lily nodded, motioning for me to continue. “You were very nervous when you first met me. Why?”
Lily frowned, leaning back. “Well, that’s easy. Look at yourself.”
Confused, I looked down upon my body, then felt my cheeks and chin with a hand. “What? What do you mean?”
She rolled her eyes, an annoyed look about them. “Tall, huge bipedal beast, one we’ve never seen before. A really large sword in your hands. Fearsome, shady armor and clothes,” Lily explained, her gaze wandering up and down my body. “You even had the smell of blood on you, though I assume you’ve washed by now?”
I nodded glumly, humbled by Lily’s response.
“I thought so. Even now, you’re a bit scary. Not as much, though.”
Troubled, I tilted my head. “Why not?”
Lily took an incredulous expression, a brow arched and raised. With a hoof, she pointed towards the sack in my hands. “That’s why.”
“Oh,” I sighed, then shook my head. “Well, yes. I do suppose you’re right.”
We remained in silence afterwards, nothing much to say between us. Lily sat on the ground, humming a low tune whilst I continued to pick my way through the gardens’ plants. It was curious, to see that another such “pony” would be at least a little bit interested in one such as I.
I wondered, then, what the normal citizens of this “Equestria” would think of a human, an undead, living amongst their honored royals. How would they take to my kind? After all, Luna had told me of some of their own legends, of undead “zombie” ponies come to haunt their kind after dark. I hoped that I would not be taken too unkindly.
Another question appeared within the recesses of my mind, and I turned back to my companion. “Lily?”
She gazed up at me, curiosity in her eyes. “Yes, Roland?”
“How large is Equestria?” I asked, and Lily’s brow raised in confusion. “Is Canterlot the only city? Or are there many?”
Lily gave a small giggle before responding. “It’s pretty large, I’d say. Canterlot is the capital, but it isn’t the largest city in Equestria, far from it.”
“Oh? Do explain.”
Sitting back on her haunches, the pegasus placed a hoof on her chin and looked up into the sky. “Well, Manehattan’s got to be the largest city—it’s somewhere to the north-east, by the sea. Fillydelphia and Baltimare trail Manehattan in size, but they’re relatively close,” she explained, slowly rocking her head side to side. “If you want a city of mostly pegasi, Cloudsdale is pretty large. It floats all over Equestria, going wherever.”
“A floating city?” I asked, bewildered. I was surprised, very much so, by the banality with which Lily explained the existence of a floating city.
“Mmhm!” she nodded. “Cloudsdale produces most of our weather, so it’s a pretty important city. I’ve always wanted to visit it.”
“Producing weather?” I mumbled quietly, doubtful and nigh disillusioned. “I’ve gone insane. I must have.”
Lily did not appear to have heard me, continuing her lecture. “There’s also the Crystal Empire, far in the north. Apparently, it’s an ancient city, and only reappeared recently. Princess Cadenza and Shining Armor moved there a few weeks ago, to oversee its reintegration.”
“Shining Armor?” I asked, now curious. “I thought he was the Captain of the Guard here? In Canterlot?”
Shaking her head, Lily turned to observe a pair of bright-blue plants. “No, not anymore. Shining Armor was the Captain of the Guard for a long time but, like I said, he’s since moved to the Crystal Empire with Princess Cadenza. They were wed not too long ago, you see.”
Now beginning to understand the situation, I nodded slowly. “I do see. And… I presume Captain Steelhooves has now taken over command?”
“Uh-huh,” Lily affirmed, standing up. “He was Shining Armor’s protégé—there’s some interesting political stuff going on behind that move, but it’s not for me to tell.”
I hummed in acknowledgement, deep in thought. Lily’s words piqued my interest—I had never had the chance to be a man of politics, and I had always presumed that, if given the chance, I would not have even taken a liking to it. The inner spectacles and dramatics within the Undead Legion, as few and minor as they had been, had been enough for me. Yet I, for some unknown reason veiled from my sight, found myself drawn to such ideas of politicking and intrigue in this new world of mine.
I recognized that perhaps, in time, I could draw myself closer to Luna through our shared knowledge of Equestria’s machinations—a means of helping a friend. I knew, indeed, that rulers beheld their own fair share of troubles and agitations, drawn on by the zealous ambition of the crowds of nobles and vassals beneath them. I could perhaps protect Luna, in a way, but that nevertheless required of me a certain knowledge and entrance into those same political theatres.
“Lily. I have one last question.”
Sighing, Lily Pad ruffled her wings and sat down. “Well, I was actually going to go now, but sure. I have time for one more.”
Nodding, I took a deep breath. “Do you think Luna would allow me to participate in her nightly courts? Or even those of Princess Celestia? I would like to gather some inkling of Equestrian politics.”
The pegasus raised a brow, by now a quite common occurrence, and gave me a rather incredulous look. “I… don’t know why you’d want that, but to be honest? I don’t—I don’t really know,” Lily explained. “You’d have to ask Luna yourself. You’re visiting her tonight, aren’t you?”
I hummed in affirmation, my eyes wandering over the ground as I slowly rubbed a well-calloused palm over my chin. “Mm, yes. I am.”
Lily nodded, smiling warmly at me. “Well, then I guess that answers your question. I, uh, really have to go now, though,” she said quickly, beginning to leave in haste. “I’ll see you later, I guess? And try not to pick too many flowers!”
I watched Lily leave, giving her a small wave. Perhaps I would see her again—I had enjoyed our conversation, much like those I had with Princess Luna.
There was a sense of wonder within me, bubbling deep in the recesses of my mind and body, that only seemed to magnify with every step I took. It was a curious feeling, the sort that one might only know in times of unfamiliarity. The grand halls around me, kaleidoscopic colors washed about in light and shining paint, only served to amplify this feeling, the echoes given by my booted feet reminders of the grandiose scale of my new environs.
That I, an Undead self-pitted to fight against what could not be utterly defeated, had found myself in a majestic castle, was humorous indeed. That I could call it my home, at least for the foreseeable future, was even more so. Equine beings, aptly called ponies instead of horses, in retrospect to their very much diminished size, were a plentiful aide-mémoire to the fantastical notions of this new world. Servants with glowing horns, guards with bird-like wings, watched for my needs, despite my reassurances that I would be fine without their help, better suited for the likes of dithering nobles and scornfully spoiled brats.
I had never expected to find myself with such friends in high regard, after all. It was something to become accustomed to, and I trembled for the day that I might be completely fine with demure little ponies, wrapped in white and black maids’ garb, coercing me to let them dress a man such as I.
Absolutely not, was my answer. I only hoped it would always be so.
The sun had fallen long before, and I knew the time was some minutes after midnight. I was walking through the well-lit halls of the castle, moving between treasured rooms and golden chambers. The instructions one of the many castle aids had given me had been simple enough—find the easternmost towers of the castle, and make my way up the “fifth one to the left.”
I resisted the urge to spit, disgusted with both myself and the pony’s directions. I did not want to admit it—I could find my way! Red-carpeted hall had led to red-carpeted hall, and it had all looked the same.
Unfortunately, I knew the truth. I was lost. I did not know my way, and I could not find it. Perhaps it was the sheer unfamiliarity of such a large citadel—such twists and turns all looked the same within the palace. I pondered several ideas of navigation, each more ridiculous than the last, but my troublesome thoughts were interrupted by the echoes of booted hooves upon marble.
I turned, an expression of curiosity stretched across my features. “Captain Steelhooves. A pleasure to see you here.”
It was the captain, stone-faced as he always was. His golden armor accented his white coat well, providing a keen layer to pearly excellence. His helm, etched with details of battle and honor, bore upon it his signature red plume, a denotation of his superiority over the rank and file.
I felt myself slightly envying his fashionable garb, if only for my once-held love for plated knights’ gear.
Nevertheless, Steelhooves, his eyes as steely as his name, glared at me with abound suspicion. “We’ll see to that. Out of curiosity, where might you be heading, this late in the night?”
I frowned, displeased with his hostility. “To visit a friend. Luna told me that I could visit her tonight, after her court,” I explained calmly, shrugging. “Though, I am greeted with quite the predicament.”
“Oh?” Steelhooves asked, prodding for me to continue. “And what might that be?”
Looking back forwards, I raised my arms in annoyance. “I can’t seem to find my way around this blasted castle. A maid gave me directions, but I cannot make sense of them.”
Despite his hard glare and his dissatisfied frown, I could see a hint of amusement in his eyes, a slight wrinkle at the corner of his mouth. “I see. Would you, perhaps, like a guide? I can walk you there.”
I nodded, a small smile creeping across my mouth. “Yes, that would be nice. Lead the way, Captain.” I gave Steelhooves a mock salute, watching as he walked forwards past me. Following in his hoofsteps, I matched his pace.
“So,” Steelhooves began, a modest, leisurely tone replacing his expressions. “What do you and Luna plan to do tonight? I assume she is in her private study?”
“That is true,” I replied, my eyes wandering over the murals and stained-glass windows about us. “As to what we will do, that is to be seen. Suffice to say, I enjoy stories, and Luna has many to share. Much to my delight.”
“Really?” Steelhooves asked. “About what?”
“Many things. Though mostly about the past,” I said, gazing at a particularly interesting mural. A horrific creature, an amalgam of animal and beast, bore strings over what I assumed were ponies, controlling their every action. “It is not, however, to say that I do not share stories of my own.”
Steelhooves hummed in acknowledgement. “I see. I would like to hear some of these stories one day.”
“Perhaps you shall.”
Our walk remained in silence the rest of the way, our mouths shut as Steelhooves led me through several corridors and flights of stairs. Eventually, we had reached the top of a tower, a single door awaiting at the top.
“And here we are,” Steelhooves announced, coming to a stop before the door. My eyes glazed over its features.
It was of some high-quality lumber, golden pieces arranged about it. A single circle sat within the middle, a plaque of some sort—a crescent moon adorned the plaque, azure and black colors streamed through it. It was most definitely Luna’s sigil, and I made to knock.
“Wait,” Steelhooves stopped me, laying a hoof upon my back. I turned, a brow raised.
“Yes? What is it?”
The stately unicorn stood tall, his gaze charged at my own. He was silent for a few moments, before speaking. “I may have been a bit harsh, in my treatment of you. I would like to apologize.”
“Hm?” I grunted in confusion, tilting my head. “Oh, it’s rather fine. Make nothing of it, Captain.”
He smiled in return, a hint of gratitude about him. “I am glad, then. I would like to talk to you in the future. By ourselves, if you’d like. And, another thing—some of my men would like to see you in battle. They would like to gauge you, as a warrior.”
I matched Steelhooves’ smile, nodding. “Then we’ll make time for it. Our talk, and our bouts. Have a good night, Captain.”
Steelhooves gave me a light salute and left, making his way back down the stairs. I watched him disappear, before turning back to the door before me. Taking a deep breath, I raised a hand to knock.
“Come in,” a voice interrupted me, familiar and friendly. In shock, I took a step back, leaning back from the door.
“Huh?”
“Oh, I know it’s you, Roland,” the door swung open, the ever-noticeable tint of magic roiling over its surface. Inside, I could see Princess Luna, sat upon a cushion. Small stacks of parchment were arranged before her, bottles of ink and cerulean quills beside them. “I could hear you two yapping away outside my room.”
I stood there silently, unsure of what to do. Luna’s brows scrunched, her ears pricking in annoyance. “Don’t just stand there, Roland. I said come in.”
Following her orders, I took a few dainty steps into her private study. The door swung closed behind me and, much to my chagrin, I could hear the click of a lock.
“Wouldn’t want anypony rushing in on us,” Luna explained, adjusting her position on her cushion. “Come. Sit with me.”
“Are you worried someone might come? This late in the night?” I asked, uncertainty toning my voice. "A maid? A guard?” I sat on the ground, opposite my friend.
Luna rolled her eyes, shaking her head. “Not anypony in particular. Though, Steelhooves, might come back, all worried or something. He is very eager to prove himself, and protect his princesses.”
I nodded, humming in agreement. “Perhaps. And about him… I was curious, Luna. About Steelhooves.”
“What about him?” She queried. Her horn glowed alight, and I watched, in slight wonder, as the piles of parchment, ink, and quills disappeared altogether.
“Just about him, in general,” I clarified. “Lily Pad, she told me a little about him. How there is some manner of political mess behind him and his position. It poked my curiosity.”
Luna nodded, giving a low sigh. “Oh, that. Yes, I suppose that is true. It’s a long and boring story. Are you sure you want to hear it?”
“Yes.” My answer was simple.
“Then you might as well make yourself comfortable, Roland. Would you like a spot closer to the fire?”
I turned, noticing a bright, glowing fire behind me. I could feel its warmth upon my back, but that was all I needed. I shook my head.
“You’ve noticed that Steelhooves is a unicorn, yes?” Luna asked, her gaze serious. I nodded, curious as to what she meant. “Well, he’s not entirely. At least, not by heritage.”
Confused, I tilted my head to the side. “Whatever do you mean by that?”
“Roland, I’m sure you’ve figured this out already, but besides alicorns, there are three distinct tribes of ponies,” Luna explained, ruffling her large wings slightly. “Unicorns, with their horns, pegasi with their wings, and earth-ponies with neither.”
I nodded, having seen all varieties already. “I understand that. But Steelhooves is a unicorn, yes? What else could he be?”
Luna sighed, and I could hear the undertones of exhaustion in her breath. “Captain Steelhooves’ mother is a unicorn. From a particularly notable family. That much is true. But his father?” Without warning, Luna flopped onto her side, resting her head upon another large cushion. “He’s an earth-pony, from some small town out in the country.”
“I see,” I said, though not entirely understanding. “But what could be the issue, then?”
“Roland,” Luna began, peering up at me out the corner of her eye. “Canterlot is inhabited by many, many, many noble families of unicorns. Each considers the purity of their bloodline more than sacred. And so, ponies of mixed heritage are considered a big no-no. Almost blasphemy, some might say.”
“Ah,” I sighed, now understanding. “So, I assume the unicorn families would not take kindly to a half-unicorn taking command of the Royal Guards?”
She nodded, her vision angled towards the ceiling. I looked up, following her gaze, and was met by glowing murals of nightly stars and pearlescent moon.
“That is correct. And, because of that, our dear Captain needs to work that much harder to prove the nay-sayers wrong.”
I nodded, quietly observing the murals upon the ceiling. My neck began to hurt, however, and I looked back down at Luna. She beheld a rather sorrowful expression.
“I feel sorry for the poor captain, in truth,” Luna said, looking into my eyes. “He works far into the night, taking shifts himself instead of his own juniors. He barely gets any rest, going through piles and piles of documents, files, reports, and cases. His magic is weak, not nearly as strong as any of his peers. By Tartarus, even foals have stronger magic than he does.
“But, despite that, Silver Steelhooves works very, very hard, to make up for his shortcomings, whether real or not. He has a strong will to succeed, and drives his guards to the same success. He is an excellent commander, and that is exactly why Shining Armor chose him to be his replacement.”
I was silent, moved by Luna’s explanation. Steelhooves, Silver, as his first name was, was a pony, and could not be farther, biologically, from myself. Yet, I felt, within myself, a certain connection, a particular relation to his efforts. A spurned soul, flawed and inherently weak, yet with a will to last, to make their mark.
That was, indeed, the basis of the Undead Curse, was it not? Absently mindedly, I brought a finger to my chin, and I could feel the burning spot that marked my darksign.
“I understand now,” I said to Luna. “But, I am confused on one matter.”
“Hm?”
“Captain Shining Armor—he was here, the day you and I first met, was he not?” I asked. “When you and your sister, Celestia, came to see me in my cell. He was there with you, leading you into the dungeons.”
“He was,” Luna acknowledged, slowly spreading a wing open before closing it again. “Both he and Princess Cadenza were on a royal visit.” She gave a small laugh, humor glinting in her eyes. “In fact, if I remember correctly, you appeared in the court during their arrival to the palace. Gave us all quite the fright, truth be told.”
I frowned, a sheepish expression upon me. “Oh. I… I did not mean to scare you all so. I assure you, I—“
Luna punched my arm with a hoof, and I winced in pain. “Oh, stop it, you. Of course you didn’t mean to. It’s not like you had any control over where you appeared, or anything.”
“True,” I said, nodding. We fell into silence—I watched the burning fire, my eyes wandering over its ardent licks and flames, while Luna stared up into the ceiling. I was unsure as to what she was thinking.
An eternity later, I turned back to Luna, nudging her with a hand. She grunted, eyeing me with playful displeasure. “Yes, Roland?”
“I think it’s time for a few stories. Wouldn’t you say?” I prompted, a smile upon my mouth. Luna returned it, but I was scared—I could see a hint of guile in her eyes.
“Yes,” she began, a brow raised. “But I think I’ve shared enough of my stories. I think it is due time for you to share one of your own.”
“Uh,” I began, initially unsure. “It… would seem that it is?”
Slightly adjusting her position on her cushions, Luna extended a hoof towards me. “Then come here. I am quite cold.”
I did not move, uncertain as to what to do. “What? The fire is right there, if you need it.”
“Shush,” Luna glared at me, a humorous look to her gaze, and she grabbed me. Pulling me closer, Luna clasped me to her body and wrapped a wing around me, settling us into her cushion. “I don’t bite. Now, tell me a story of yours. And it had better be good.”
I was rattled, that much was true, but I resigned myself to Luna’s oddities and rested my head back against her—she was rather warm. Flipping through the incorporeal pages of my mind, I settled upon a particular story close, very close, to my heart.
“Oh, I’ve got a story for you. You shan’t worry if it is good or not—it is absolutely wonderful.
“It is called, ‘The Legend of Artorias the Abysswalker.’”
The archives were, for the most part, a most grand set of buildings, marble archways spanning across the roads like harbingers of learning. Though quite close to the palace, the Moon District, home of Canterlot’s grandest libraries and archives, was a quiet place, and few ponies roamed the cobbled streets.
That detail was, in fact, rather fortunate for me—I did not wish to meet many ponies, who would most assuredly balk at the sight of a creature such as I. Luna had urged me to encounter as few ponies as possible, for the pure sake of preventing the incitement of potential panic and, perhaps, the burgeoning of questions among Equestria’s citizenry and nobility. It was clear that the princesses’ wish was to keep myself secret, until I could be introduced to their nation in as smooth a manner as possible.
I had, however, received permission from Luna to visit the Canterlot Archives—I sought knowledge, of Equestria and the world. She had given me a token, a small emblem of a crescent moon. Luna had assured me that, if shown to the archivists, they would grant me access to some, but not all, of the archives.
Our previous night had lasted into the cool dews of morning, and I had departed with the steady rise of the sun. I enjoyed sharing the stories of my land, it had been clear to me that Luna, likewise, greatly enjoyed the tales themselves. Such legends of heroes of yore had clearly left a mark upon her, and though there had not been nearly enough time to share all the tales I knew, I had made sure to regale Luna with the best of the best.
Luna had been particularly enamored with such tales of one of the Legion’s two founders. She had taken to Artorias with some delight, yet Luna was much more interested in the other. It was as if she had found some connection, however remote, with the Hornet, their propensities to striking from the shadows a most clear relation indeed. I found it most curious.
I pulled myself from my thoughts as I wandered into a rather large, ornate building, marble statues of various ponies lining the walls. Inside, I was met with the rather strong smell of old parchment and books, and for good reason—shelves upon shelves of books and scrolls sat in rows before me, their wooden details reaching far above.
Some meters to my front, a long desk sat perpendicular to the entrance. A unicorn sat behind it, seemingly absorbed in some manner of book. I approached who I could only assume to be the librarian, archivist, or whatever other parallel the pony was. My steps echoed throughout the archives, and the pony looked up at me. She was a wizened old mare, a thick pair of glasses balanced upon her nose and her grey mane wrapped in a bun. It was a rather puzzling notion, that the ponies of Equestria could fashion their manes in such ways that would be quite impossible for the likes of the horses I was accustomed to.
“Welcome to the Canterlot Archives. May I…” she stopped, touching her glasses with a wrinkled hoof. The old mare leaned closer, before shock took her. “By Celestia, what are you?”
I feared that the mare could have been frail of heart, so I raised my hands before me, in as placating a manner as possible. “Easy there, madam. It’s quite alright, I’m here on the Princess’ blessing.”
In an effort to demonstrate the truth of my words, I held up Luna’s badge, showing her marked insignia. A cool, tingling sensation took my hands, and I watched as the emblem floated out of my grip, towards the elderly pony.
She held it close to her eyes, examining the badge. After a moment, she smiled – a rather uneasy, nervous grin that I was sure only served to calm herself. “Oh, yes, you’re right. Princess Luna did send word that somepony would come from the palace, I just…” She trailed off, her eyes wandering over my figure. “Well, I didn’t expect… something like you. My apologies, dear sir.”
I was a little miffed, but I understood her words. “No need to apologize, ma’am. Though, I would appreciate some help,” I explained, walking closer to her desk. “You are an archivist, yes? A scholar, maybe?”
She began to calm down, though I could still sense a bit of fear in her eyes, a modicum of anxiety. “Yes, yes. I am a Royal Archivist and a scholar, you are correct. Swirling Psalm, at your service. How may I help you, dear?”
“I seek a few texts. Equestrian history, perhaps. Culture. Anything that could help me understand this land,” I said, gesturing with a hand. “And, importantly, any books, or scrolls, on magic, and its nature.”
Psalm nodded, rising from her seat. “We have many of those. I can lead you to a few.” She squinted at me, an inquisitive glare upon her. “Though, I must tell you that you are restricted from accessing the Starswirl and Clover wings. All others, you may browse to your heart’s content.”
Psalm’s horn lit alight with a pale shade of green, and before me appeared a viridian path along the floor, leading far away into the depths of the archives. “Just follow the green path, and you’ll find the sections and wings you need. And don’t try to steal anything.”
Appreciative, and also a tad bit intimidated by the aged mare, I followed her path through the archives. It was a rather short journey, all things considered, and I soon found myself at its end, some short distance into the large archives.
Much to my chagrin, however, there were… quite a lot of books, and I had no way to guide myself through the endless rows of texts. With a low sigh, I turned to my left, beginning to pick my way through the first of many books.
It had been some hours later when I felt a slight pain in my eyes. A dry feeling that, while quite bothersome, was useful in that I realized the amount of time that had passed. A collection of books and scrolls were sat upon a table before me, and I had taken the pleasure of relaxing within the arms of a large, restful cushion.
I had, fortunately enough, learned quite a bit during my time within the archives. I did not think of the possibility that Equestria would use a different script than that of my homeland, yet in a miracle that I had only come to realize during the excavation of a particularly lengthy scroll, I realized that the very alphabet, and more so the language itself, was incredibly similar.
As I had suspected, magic itself was a key part of Equestrian history and nature, yet it was entirely unlike the crystalline sorceries I was accustomed to or, even, the faiths and pyromancies that one would most definitely have had encountered within the likes of Carim or Carthus.
Carthus… a name that I had heard long before. It was, after all, only the latest of kingdoms that the Undead Legion had buried. Its regiments of accursed warriors had been buried deep under the mountains that overlooked Farron, so that we might keep a closer eye upon the Abyss within them all.
I shook my head, relieving myself of such troublesome thoughts. With a low groan I rose from my seat, tenderly closing the covers of my last book. I had enjoyed such inquiries of knowledge, yet I found myself to be quite bored. Books of fact and learning, while interesting enough, did not hold my attention as a tale of heroism might, and my limbs were just itching for something to do.
And what, perhaps, did warriors do when bored?
Some hours later I found myself, curiously enough, standing in the middle of a large, outdoor pavilion, somewhere deep within the recesses of the palace. The sun had begun to fall some minutes before, and the cool touch of night would soon arrive. I gripped my sword in my favored hand, and in my left sat my keen wedged dagger.
Straw-filled mannequins were scattered across the pavilion. I had brought the mannequins myself from the closest armory, having found that the pavilion was rather abandoned. The flooring in the courtyard was of some sort of tiled stone.
All warriors, all knights, would eventually come to fight. Whether in war or in peace, those who bore the sword would live by it. It was, therefore, a keen circumstance that they would necessitate training – what good was an ill-prepared knight, his shield arm weak in the face of a dragon? What purpose did a footman serve, if he knew not how to parry a blow?
I smiled to myself, knowing that, though within an entirely different world, some things would always remain the same. The Undead Legion, the Abyss Watchers – we were, first and foremost, soldiers and knights, with the most dire of duties. Training, practice – it was all of the most important requirement, and I embraced it with passion.
With an elated heart, I focused my eyes upon a particular mannequin, imagining that its beady eyes bore within them the heart of the Abyss. I gave a low snarl, matching that of the most ferocious of wolves, before I stomped forwards, digging my right heel into the stone floor. I held the position and, a moment later, I launched myself towards the mannequin, my sword lunging forwards. With a metallic screech, the floor below my knee split violently, and with a sickly crunch, my blade sank deep into the straw monstrosity. It bore no resistance.
Full marks. Now, Form Two.
I whipped around, glaring at a clump of mannequins gathered together. This time, I crouched low, my sword lashing around behind me, before I dove dagger-first towards my targets. I had cleared many meters before digging my wedge into the stone, and with yet another snarl I whirled myself around my dagger. A few mannequins around me were cloven in half, straw flying everywhere, yet I was not finished. Grunting in exertion, I jumped high in the air, twirling around in a somersault, before bringing my sword down upon the mannequins. I crushed the straw beneath the weight of the blade.
Maugrim’s Form, next on the list.
There was yet one figure that survived, glaring at me with its monstrous eyes. I rushed towards it, and when within a suitable range I stabbed forwards with my blade. A downwards cut with the dagger was followed by an upwards slash with both weapons, and the mannequin stumbled backwards, in a most lively manner. Finally, with a loud, lupine growl I launched my sword in a sky-bound uppercut. The blade sundered the tiled stone beneath me, before disemboweling the mannequin altogether. Dust and rock spired before me, blocking my sight, and when it had all cleared, nothing remained of the straw mannequin.
Suddenly, I heard the sound of broken glass somewhere behind me, and I whipped around, an expression of fury upon my face. I found only a guard, a red plume upon his helmet. A warm, brown liquid pooled in front of him, shattered glass scattered about it, and I could vaguely smell a hint of cocoa and chocolate wafting towards me. My eyes regained their focus, the world no longer a blur of rouge.
Captain Steelhooves stared at me, a most confounded countenance upon him. We remained in silence for a few moments, before the stark-white guard trotted towards me.
“By Celestia, what was that?!” Silver Steelhooves cried out, ignoring the shattered glass below his hooves.
I shrugged sheepishly, unsure of how to answer. “Training. Warriors do require practice, after all,” I explained, gesturing around me. I was, quite frankly, more than a bit disconcerted, having had someone walk in on my training.
“I don’t mean that,” Steelhooves answered, coming to a stop a few meters before me. “Do… do all humans, undead, whatever – do you all fight like that?”
With a frown I shook my head. “No. Only a few of us. It takes years, maybe even decades, of learning. It’s a matter of some ceremony.”
The guard captain looked to be a bit relieved, though I was unsure why. “That makes me feel a little bit better,” he muttered to himself, looking away. “Though, you did give quite the show.”
Though a tad red-faced, I smiled at Steelhooves. “I am glad, though my intention was not to—” Suddenly, I was interrupted by a loud, indignant screech.
“What have you done?!”
Both Steelhooves and I turned around, finding a familiar face before us. Her pale blue coat was wrought with shock, her green and pink mane wildly undone. A strike of fear took my heart, and I made to back away from the incensed mare.
“Y-yes, Miss Pad?” I tried, watching as she stomped towards me. “Is… is there a problem?”
The consternation upon her face became contorted with incredulity, and Lily Pad crossed the distance between us in seconds. Reaching up, she grasped my face, forcing me to look around.
“A problem? Is there a problem? Look!”
I did, though I could not choose otherwise anyways. My eyes wandered across the pavilion, and I understood Lily Pad’s source of appall. The stone ground, once masterfully tiled like artful mosaics, was now quite ruined – an understatement, in and of itself. Portions of the stone were riven apart, and chunks of flooring were missing altogether. The square tiling where I had dug with my dagger was now a haphazard spiral of pebbles, and finally, like the frosting upon a name-day cake, straw littered the entirety of the courtyard.
“I… did not realize I would cause this much damage,” I said carefully, wincing as Lily tightened her grip upon my cheeks in response. I had no idea ponies could grasp things so well with their forehooves.
“By Celestia,” she muttered, letting go of my face. Lily rubbed her own in turn with a hoof, most evidently frustrated. “Roland, do you have any idea how long this would take to repair and clean up? This wasn’t just some regular old flooring.”
I looked for any sign of the guard captain, seeing him standing on the opposite side of the courtyard. I could not blame him. “I’m… sorry? I asked one of the groundskeepers if I could use the pavilion - he bore no trouble with it.”
“He probably didn’t think you’d do this much damage either,” Lily groaned. I knew now that she was correct. “You thought this pavilion was just abandoned? Left alone? Was useless?”
Slowly, I nodded my head. “Well… yes. I did. Is that not the case?”
Lily shook her head despondently, and I could see the last refuges of rage leave her body. “It… you’re right, it is. But we still maintain it. The maids clean it, and the groundskeepers make it look nice,” she explained, turning around. “Just more work for us, I guess.”
I watched Lily Pad leave, the mare looking quite tired. I debated whether or not to follow her, but I found that Steelhooves was beside my side again, shaking his head.
“I didn’t realize I’d do this much,” I assured him, very much confused. “I may have overdone it, in my... want, I suppose, for battle. Will she be alright?”
Though he gave me a wary glance, Steelhooves shrugged, his mood a tad sunken. “That was Lily Pad, right? Princess Luna’s aide?” I nodded. “She may have overreacted. I think she’s just… very stressed out. Frustrated, maybe. This used to be a training grounds for the Palace Guards, anyhow. Nopony has used it in decades.”
“Frustrated? For what reason?” I was puzzled, to be frank. Lily, whom I had begun to consider a friend since our meeting in the Gardens, had not appeared to be as rattled and worried at all before, and I expressed this worry to my companion. Where had her rage come from?
Steelhooves sighed – he appeared reluctant to answer. “We’ve all had some stressful times in Canterlot, right now,” he explained. “There have been some troubles recently – Canterlot was even attacked, only a couple of months ago. I think Miss Pad was at the center of it all, during the wedding.”
“Wedding?” I queried, unaware of such an event. “An attack during a wedding?”
Steelhooves did not answer, instead making his way out the ruined courtyard. Yet, his words piqued my curiosity – that Equestria, and Canterlot, had come under attack, was by itself a matter to be investigated. Though I had never attended one myself, I had always known that weddings were, in and of themselves, quite important matters, and an attack during a palace wedding only signaled of crucial, perhaps even threatening, affairs.
Perhaps I would ask Luna, either in private or during her court. Equestria was, after all, my home for the time being, its princess my friend. I feared that dangerous circumstances were set to make their mark, and thus, I feared for the life of whatever purpose I had found in this new home of mine. I did not realize that Equestria would behoove such complex travesties.
Yet, deep down, beneath my flesh, I felt a profoundly perturbing sensation, festering and stirring like a cold, slowly fading ember. I was unsure what it was.
The next day had been a rather curious matter altogether, following my first night of training in Equestria. I had returned to the archives early the subsequent morning, eager to satiate my thirst for stories and knowledge of the new world. I had browsed through incomplete maps, detailing the reaches of Luna and her sister’s realms, and those further beyond.
I was quite puzzled, indeed, to find that Equus, as the world was called, bore such peoples as griffons, minotaurs, yaks, and others. Though I was quite familiar with some, I only knew them to be the dumb animals commonplace throughout such lands as Farron and Astora, while others had seemingly burst straight from the inky parchments of storybooks, only seen in legend and myth.
It was only late in the afternoon that I had heard a succession of whispers, mutterings in the dark inherent of political gossip and royal matters.
Politics. A matter that I was quite unfamiliar with, yet in my new home it reached out to me with treacherous tendril. Unfortunately I had been hooked, eager to find how exactly Luna’s world of elites worked.
They whispered of a strange pony, far from the north, his coat a crystalline tapestry of iridescent indigo. Allegedly, fear had gripped his eyes in a most peculiar manner, as if he himself was unsure what frightened him so.
They called him a “Crystal Pony,” of what that meant I bore only supposition. Perhaps, I thought, he might have been from the “Crystal Empire” Luna had told me about – Shining Armor’s new holding in the frozen tundra to the north, a green jewel upon a bleak white canvas. He had been tired, they said, immeasurably so. He had visited on the night of my training, seeking only a Princess’s guidance, but Luna had bid him patience for the night, and would resume her court with him tonight. This night.
I knew the stallion had borne an urgent message. Of what he meant to relay, I had no idea, but I had resolved to find out. Now, the stars had arisen, Luna’s moon slowly riding across the sky above.
I was still quite amazed to know that Luna bore control over the very moon itself. I would have never guessed to have befriended a celestial emissary.
I was just outside the royal court, perched upon an ajar window above the proceedings. Luna sat upon an indigo throne, her eyes attentive and warm, and before her, down a set of stairs, stood an unfamiliar pony, looking to be quite rested. His coat matched the whispers – he was the one. To his side were two armored fellows, their coats alike to the messenger’s.
Leaning in closer, yet intent on not revealing my presence, I listened closely to the stallion’s words.
“Your Highness,” he addressed her, bowing his head. “I thank you for your time.”
Luna nodded, smiling warmly at the crystal pony. “It is of no matter, Mister Marble. It is our duty to attend to our subjects’ needs,” she said. “Now, I know that you have brought with you an urgent message.” She looked tired, immeasurably so, and I felt a weight upon my heart.
Marble, as his name was, nodded fervently, and I could see hints of fear speckled within his gaze. “Yes, your Highness, it’s true.”
“Urgent enough to warrant an escort from Princess Mi Amore Cadenza herself?” Luna gestured towards the two guards at Marble’s side.
“Yes, Princess. Very urgent.”
“Explain.”
Marble took a deep breath before explaining. “I live in a small village north of the Crystal Empire. It’s a remote station, a trade post for travelers and merchants heading to Yakyakistan. I’m an innkeep.”
Luna raised a brow, tilting her head. “Not many visitors, then.”
“Very few,” Marble agreed, looking away. He was timid, I could see, yet I knew not what he was fearful of. “I’m lucky to get more than a couple customers a week. Anyways, I was on my way back to the Crystal Empire to visit my daughter, when I came across… something.”
His last words were laced with terror, as if the very memories of what he had seen shook his core. “I don’t know what, exactly, they were, but they were not friendly.”
“Go on,” Luna motioned with her hoof, leaning forwards with rapt attention. “What did you find, Mister Marble?”
Marble shivered, his next words trembling with fright. “I-I don’t know how to explain, exactly. They were dark creatures, slithering around in blizzards and caves,” he looked from side to side, and the guards beside him clasped their hooves upon the stallion, their intentions helpful. “Some were monstrous, like snakes and serpents bubbling with… shadows. But, your Highness, some looked like ponies. But-but with weird, scaly and thorny armor.”
Luna looked puzzled, yet I bore no further need to listen any longer. I sat back upon my perch, my muscles weak and my flesh damp with boiling sweat. My cheeks burned with a focused rage, my vision red with fixated anger.
Was it truly what I feared it was? I knew I should not leap to conclusions, yet irrational frustration blurred my mind.
How? How had it come here, to a world untouched by the rotten dregs of humanity? Why was it here, and with what intention? Was it because of me? Had I brought it with me? Like Marble, I felt a burgeoning core of fear within me, fused with a bubbling concoction of hatred and unbridled fury, yet unlike the crystal pony I knew its source, and with it a scorching passion to burn and crush the Abyss.
The Abyss. In the North.
Perhaps I had found yet another purpose. An old, familiar one, like a trusty companion and friend.
I had calmed myself later that night, finding the strength deep within to hold back my rage. I knew I had to be reasonable, dedicated by logic and motive. Mister Marble’s descriptions of the troubles had been similar to those of the Abyss, correct, yet it was impossible to know if the Abyss had truly come.
How could it, anyhow? No humanity to feed off, no dark to spread. I was the only Undead around, yet I stood quietly outside Luna’s study. I was not hollow, I did not believe, and so the Abyss would have no place in Equus.
I reasoned with myself, and I had come to the conclusion that, most likely, the “dark creatures” were just another problem for Equestria, another monster to defeat as the princesses and their subjects had done with plenty before. Luna had promised me that she would explain Equestria’s recent history, and I knew only that Equestria had dealt with its fair share of “villains” and “monsters.”
A topic that she had, unfortunately, appeared more than a little bit uncomfortable with.
Yet, I would still help, as much as I could, with any threat that festered within Equestria. It was my new home, after all, the realm of a new friend. It would be a purpose for the time being, and I wanted only to aid my new friends and their country.
Thus, I knocked upon Luna’s door, my knuckles rapping gently upon the lunar crest. “Luna – it is I, Roland. Are you there?”
I stood back, watching as the door took a dark blue sheen. It opened slowly, and I gazed into Luna’s study. She sat upon her usual seat upon her cushion, staring back at me. Her eyes bore within them a fatigued peer, but Luna was visibly happy to see me.
I only hoped she hadn’t expectations for stories and our usual fun this night.
“Roland!” Luna exclaimed, gesturing towards me. “Come in! I was hoping you might visit me tonight.”
Nodding, I followed my friend’s directions, stepping into her study with an eased gait. Joining her by the fire, I smiled at Luna. “It’s good to see you again. I enjoyed the archives very much, but the books lack the warmth of our own conversations.”
Luna returned my smile, setting her work to the side. I paid no attention to her quills and ink, though her writings did pique some portion of my curiosity.
“I’m happy you liked the archives, though I hope you didn’t get too sucked into those old books and scrolls,” Luna giggled, patting my shoulder with a hoof. “Too dusty for my tastes. I hope you’ve come here with some good stories planned?”
I shook my head, and Luna became visibly concerned. “Not tonight, Luna. I’m afraid my visit this evening is for… business, rather than recreation.”
Luna raised a brow, tilting her head to the side. “Indeed? What’s the matter, Roland?” She was noticeably saddened, disappointed, and I felt a slight pain in my bosom to see Luna’s frown of consternation.
Taking a deep breath, I shook my head. “I have heard some murmurs – some of your servants and courtiers have been talking. A messenger from the Crystal Palace, an urgent missive of distress?” I poked, watching as Luna became visibly wary. “I wanted to know more. What has happened in the north?”
The princess scoffed under her breath, turning her head to the side. “It is of no matter, Roland. Courtly duties, and I hope they’ll remain so.” Luna gave me a sideways glance, her eye worried. “It’s nothing to be concerned with.”
I was not harried by Luna’s terse rejection, pressing the matter further. “I don’t like being lied to, Luna. I took the initiative – I sat in on your Court tonight, I heard everything Marble had to say,” I said, watching as Luna became shocked – indignant, even. “Dark creatures? Shadowy serpents, dressed in thorny armor?”
Luna raised a brow at me, and her ears pinned backwards. A forehoof tapped with weight upon her cushion, pressing into the indigo velvet. “Are you saying that you snuck into my court? Unwatched? Are you trespassing, Roland?”
I could see Luna’s steadily rising frustration – I could feel it. Thus, I raised my hands forwards, lowering my voice. My eyes became gentle, my demeanor one lacking of aggression. “Luna, that was not my intention.”
The princess ceased her hoof-stomping, watching me with caution. Fortunately, however, she grew no angrier.
“I’m sorry I stood in on your court without your permission. I understand that you don’t want me exposed or known of yet,” I said in as placating a manner. “But, you must know – when I heard about this messenger, and how afraid he was, I knew I had to investigate.”
“Roland, I’d appreciate if you left royal court matters as they are—”
I shook my head and interrupted her. “Luna, I heard what Marble said. His words worried me, Luna. Very much so,” I whispered, placing a hand upon her barrel. “Luna, I was scared.”
I could see, then, that Luna had understood. After all, I had told her of the Undead Legion, and what our purpose had been. I could see, in her eyes, that she comprehended my words, and of my fear in proportion. The darkness Marble had spoken of gave me recollection of the Abyss, and it took all my might to not descend into a fury of conniptions.
“I understand,” Luna murmured, rubbing against my gloved hand. “I’m sorry for becoming angry with you, Roland – it was not my intention. But please, Roland.” I nodded. “Leave the court matters to myself and my sister. At least, for now.”
“But Luna—”
She placed a hoof upon my lips, shaking her head. “We’ll talk about this later soon, I promise. But I am very tired right now, and I need my rest. I still have my nightly duties to take care of.” “Roland, I promise.”
Slowly, I nodded, accepting her decision. Yet, I was undeterred – I would hold Luna to her promise, and I would know the truth behind the darkness Marble had spoken of.
Without another word, I stood and left my friend’s study, leaving Luna behind. I closed the door behind me, eager for at least some manner of rest.
It had been several days since my confrontation with Luna. Five days, in fact, and while I wished to talk to her again, we had not seen each other since that night.
Truth be told, I was deeply troubled. Day after day, I sought only to think, and dive through the heaps of memories that, in unfortunate veracity, were mixed and blended to a most inconceivable point. I remembered not when my life in Astora ended, and my duties in Farron began – only shades of years and dates, hazed approximations of my own life.
I was uncertain how to act on the information divulged by Marble. I knew nothing of the world outside and, most undoubtedly, I would suffer out in Equestria – perhaps hunted like a beast, if the ponies knew not of my existence.
Allegedly, I painted a most fearful picture to those who saw me for the first time.
Thus, I sat in my room, or deep in the archives, molding in chairs too small for my being. I thought every day, every hour marked by a clenched fist on my jaw. I was accosted by Lily Pad a few times, though she looked to be quite nervous and anxious with every sighting. I knew she wanted to talk to me, to see how I fared.
I appreciated her concern, but I bore no need of it. I needed answers, and I would only get them from one pony. It was, however, rather unfortunate that I wavered at the prospect. Most shameful, indeed.
It was this day, nonetheless, that I felt the need to take a walk. A stroll through the castle, as one would, and I felt it would do me a great pleasure. I had grown tired of my thoughts, taxed with my worries and fears. Thus, I had departed my room for the day, walking through the ornate halls of the royal palace.
It was on this walk that I felt a presence, lurking someplace behind me. Moving about like a shadow, flittering like a shade – I knew not whom, or what, it was, yet I became wary, unsure what hunted me. I turned around, scanning the red-carpeted hall.
“I know you are there,” I declared, my voice echoing about the chamber. “Show yourself.”
I watched, unsure what would appear, yet my eyes fell upon a particular shadow, wavering about in the corner of the hall. A form began to take shape, irregular and twisted. A coiled body, serpentine in fashion and upright in stance. Short, yet not stubbed, limbs branched off like legs and arms, and between the two sets were a pair of small, wing-like formations.
What appeared before me was, by all means, a monstrosity. As if the gods had taken a cluster of animals found nowhere near each other and molded them all together in the fires of sin – two legs, one clawed and the other cloven hooved. Two arms, one of a lion and the other the talons of a bird. A furred, serpentine body, a scaled tail, and upon its neck was the head of a vaguely equine creature, its eyes mad and its grin a most deranged sort of curiosity. He stood as tall as I did, and his eyes stared into mine.
I took a step back, in awe of the sheer impossibility of such a creature. By all means, such a thing just should not, could not, exist.
“Now what,” it began, its voice unhinged and most mischievous, “do we have here?”
Unfortunately, I did not bring my sword with me, as I had found no need of it in the castle. Until now. I left the creature’s question unanswered, however, finding no reason to reply.
“Cat got your tongue?” it said, approaching me. I realized, then, that it did not walk – nay, it floated just hairs above the ground. “Oh, dear me, do you even have a tongue?”
Slowly, caution ebbing in my muscles, I nodded my head. “Of course I do.” I said, simply.
“It speaks!” the creature declared, its eyes bulging in mock surprise. “Now, what. Are. You?”
I shrugged, somewhat suspicious of the character. “Human. New here. Only got out of the dungeons a fortnight ago.”
The creature made to respond, yet a familiar voice interrupted it. From behind it approached Princess Luna, a stern gaze upon her. Luna gave me the slightest glance, her eyes softening for a second, before marking upon the chimera-like being before me.
“Discord!” she barked, and the creature whirled around. “What are you doing here?”
Discord, as its name had turned out to be, took an expression of indignation, hands upon his lower body. “Well Luna, I was just getting acquainted with the castle life and happened upon this strange little critter! I was hoping somepony would tell me what it is.”
Luna’s eyes narrowed, and I sensed no small amount of animosity between the two. “Celestia told me you were off being reformed,” she spat, her last word making known her skepticism of the possibility. “Why are you back already?”
Discord burst out in uproarious laughter, clutching his clawed arm at what I assumed was his stomach. “Oh, Lulu,” he giggled, and the princess bristled at the moniker. “Don’t you see? I am reformed! I’m good now.”
In a burst of strange magic, Discord’s appearance shifted a great margin, a golden circle materializing above his head as great, pearly wings took their place on his side. He wore an expression of mock innocence, though I was more than sure Discord was anything but innocuous. Luna seemed to have been of the same mind, raising a brow in blatant doubt.
“Now,” Discord began, turning back to me. I tilted my head, awaiting his burgeoning question. “Will somepony, please, tell me what in Tartarus this thing is?”
I was more than bothered by the creature’s regard of me as a thing, but I said nothing. Luna, however, acted on my behalf.
“He’s a courtier,” Luna said, approaching me and grabbing my shoulder. “From a distant land, far away. His people sent him as an ambassador, to foster relations between Equestria and…” she hesitated, most evidently scavenging her mind for the name of my homeland. “Astora.”
Discord’s eyes took a rather unamused gaze, glaring at both Luna and myself. “I don’t believe you. I’ll ask Celestia, if that’s what it takes to get answers around here.”
Suddenly, in a whirl of color and light, Discord faded out of existence, departing with a slightly audible pop. Beside me, Luna sighed, evidently having held her breath for a longer time than was healthy.
I turned to her, a brow raised. “You lied to him.”
After a moment, she returned my gaze. “It was for a good purpose. I don’t trust Discord, and I never have,” Luna muttered, and her eyes softened. “And technically, I didn’t lie. You are from Astora, right? A land far, far away from here?”
“Perhaps you are right,” I chuckled, patting Luna’s hoof on my shoulder. “But what was that creature? I have never seen any manner of being like it!”
Luna rolled her eyes – her aversion towards Discord was evident. “Discord is a draconequus, and the Spirit of Chaos. His relation to myself and my sister is a long, long story, and I’ll tell it to you sometime,” she explained, awakening my curiosity. “He does look a bit frightening, however.”
“I’ve seen worse,” I responded, a smile upon me. “He looks rather absurd, in a most… well, he looks quite ugly, to put it simply.”
My companion burst out in laughter, her giggles echoing throughout the hall. “Oh, you are right, Roland. And I’m sure you have dealt with much worse, in all your travels,” Luna said between her snickers.
A moment later, however, Luna took a grave expression about her, her gaze hardening as she grabbed one of my hand with both hooves. “But Roland, I wanted to find you for something much worse. I’ve heard terrible news.”
Instantly worried, I tilted my head. I had no idea what she might have heard. “What? Then tell me, Luna.”
She shook her head, only serving to aggravate my concern. “No, Roland. You must come with me.”
Suddenly, my body became rigid, my nerves screaming out in panic as my feet left the ground below me. My mind became a blur of sheer terror and fear as waves of indigo magic roiled over my flesh. I tried to speak, but my mouth would not respond.
“Do not worry, Roland!” Luna declared. “This will only take a second. Teleportation is quick!”
I had no time to take her words into account, as the world had begun to whirl about me, colors and light flashing about like a kaleidoscope of insanity. My body felt like it was on fire, my innards tumbling about.
True to Luna’s words however, it only lasted a second, and when the madness had subsided, my surroundings were completely different, the world about me changed altogether. I was sat upon a chair, an oaken table before me. I found myself shaking in my seat, letting out a bark of pure terror and astonishment.
“I have heard,” Luna’s words reached my ears, yet I had no idea where she was. The world around me had yet to register. “That you have not eaten at all, Roland, since you have arrived!”
Groaning in pain, I slid down in my chair. “What do you mean? Luna, I—”
“Not a bite of bread, not a drop of water. Roland, are you looking to die?” Luna’s voice was somewhere behind me, and I looked up to see her looking over my shoulder.
My vision spun, and my head hurt. “Luna—”
“The servants have brought you good fruit and green plant day in and day out, yet you have not even taken a nibble!”
I tried again. “Luna, if you’d let me explain—”
“No,” she interrupted me. Luna’s eyes were filled with concern, her brows arched in sorrow. “Roland, what ails you so you don’t eat?”
Finally, my mind had cleared of any residue shock, and I could see with restored clarity. The table before me was stacked with plates, food of all kinds scattered about. A goblet was at my hand, filled with a violet tinge, and upon the largest plate said a small cake, a red top upon a white base. I had never had cake before. “Luna please, you don’t understand—”
“Roland, I’ve brought you some food from lunch today – I’m sure you’ll love it. I’ve even brought you some wine, though you do understand I can’t spoil you too much. The cake is as far as I can—”
“Luna!” I shouted, finally grasping her attention. She stopped, looking down at me with wide eyes. “If you’d let me explain, please.” Luna nodded, her ears angling towards me.
“I am an Undead. We have no need for food and drink. It has no taste, and serves us no need,” I said, very slowly. “That is why I have not eaten, nor drank, during the time I have been here. We can eat, but we have no need of it.”
“Then why were you collecting those herbs from the garden?” Luna asked, tilting her head in confusion. “Lily Pad was telling me about that.”
I shook my head, a tad bit annoyed. “It’s not as if we can’t find some use in plants,” I said. “Some can be quite useful, if prepared the right way. Be they warrior or sorcerer, Undead will find some use in what they find. Even rubbish.”
Luna nodded, but I could see that she remained worried, if not curious. “Then do Undead eat or drink anything?” she asked. I gazed forwards across the table, in an effort to think, yet something caught my eye. “Are you saying Undead can subsist off… nothing?”
“No,” I responded, watching the space between an ajar door. A pair of eyes, wonderfully violet, watched from the dark, focused on myself. I turned back to Luna. “There is something that Undead enjoy. Keeps us alive, you could say.”
Luna leaned closer, eager for the answer. “Well?”
“Estus,” I said, momentarily glancing back at the doorway. The eyes were gone. “A warm, fiery drink – some adventurous Undead have gone as far as to make soup out of it. Quite humorous, really.” I sat back in my chair, enjoying the direction the conversation had gone. “It’s a miracle, truly. Take an axe to the chest, that Estus will come in handy. Sews you right up, and warms your blood at it. Gets you ready, keeps you healthy.
“Always reminded me of home, to be honest. Useful for long journeys.”
My companion nodded, sidling into a chair beside me. “Sounds… amazing. How would one get this… Estus?”
I chuckled, rolling my eyes. “It was quite easy, back home. Though, I don’t suppose you sort keep any bonfires around here.” Luna made to respond, but I held a finger up. “Not the usual kind of bonfires one would just light with a pile of dry wood and some flint. It’s a very specific sort of bonfire.”
Luna nodded in understanding, but looked to be quite disheartened. “I understand. I’m sorry, Roland. I was just worried about you, and wanted to help you. I apologize if I seem a bit… overbearing.”
“It’s alright. I’ve a bottle of Estus in my room, but it’s empty. Don’t worry about refilling it, though.”
Luna giggled, rising from her seat. “Okay. I’m… still trying to get used to all of this, though. Having friends, I mean. And modern Equestria.”
“I feel the same way, Luna.” I was being truthful – I had yet to fully adjust to this new world. “Let’s just hope we can acclimate together.”
I rose from my seat, laying a hand on Luna’s fur. We walked out of the dining hall together, eager to find some manner of entertainment. I was not sure where we were headed, but I hoped our conversations would lead us somewhere.
She checked once, twice, thrice, before walking into the large, empty hall. The table in the middle sat unattended, yet nevertheless donned with a variety of plates and foodstuffs. Her cheeks felt warm, quite, and she was a bit ashamed of herself. Her shame, however, would not suffer her intentions.
Celestia was hungry, eager for some sort of lunch. She had attended her duties the entire morning, and intended for some rest and relaxation. She had stopped, however, when she noticed Luna’s abrupt arrival in the dining hall, accompanied by the creature that, for some reason, her sister adored so much. Noticeably, the “Undead” was shaken and, if a bit, frightened by the entire ordeal of teleportation, but soon had sparked a conversation between himself and Luna. Celestia could not help but sit and listen – she was curious!
And she was not eavesdropping!
Nope!
Finally, the two had left, aimed for some location somewhere in the castle. Celestia had no idea where they would go, and was more than a bit concerned – she worried for her sister, and her relative inability to adjust to Equestria. Celestia, however, knew she had to keep her promise – she would leave such matters in her sister’s hooves.
A few guards constantly spying on the Undead, Roland, wouldn’t renege on that promise!
Now, however, Celestia was presented with a different sort of crisis altogether. There it sat, clean upon the table, just waiting to pounce and attack! Celestia slid into the seat Roland had previously sat in, leaning over her prey. Red velvet – not her favorite, but she would enjoy it nonetheless!
Celestia gave a few sly glances around the hall, watching for any sort of spy or ne’er do well but, seeing none, settled herself into the cake.
Celestia munched with pleasure upon a rather flaky tart, the soft cream of its innards complementing the blueberries and strawberries quite well. A half-eaten cake sat to her left, the red velvet just waiting for its princess to return to it.
Celestia had always known, in fact, that the chefs and cooks of the Royal Palace had borne so much talent – they were the best of the best, after all, their skills fit only for kings and queens. Yet, unfortunately enough, those that tended to the palace’s kitchens would always bear the audacity to refuse Celestia of her palate of large cakes and warm, fresh pasties. It was her fault – she had decreed upon her chefs that they were not to allow Celestia to satiate her voracious hunger for such treats, for fear that her rump would grow too large.
She was supposed to be on a diet, in a sense. Not that, of course, she would tell them of her buttocks-related fears.
Yet, Celestia believed that she should be able to treat herself at least once in awhile, and to have left such a feast of cakes to rot and mold would be a great travesty indeed!
Thus, Celestia knew she was in the right, mowing through the arranged pastries with a zealous elan. So devout was she in her hunger that the Princess of the Sun did not realize that a certain Spirit had come to sit opposite her, lion’s paw upon his chin as he watched the unaware diarch with a hidden glee. After several minutes of dutiful watching, Discord tired of the monotony of Celestia’s munching and cleared his throat.
“Hungry, are we?”
Celestia’s head snapped up, a panicked expression upon her. “What?!” she cried, settling her flustered sights on the Spirit of Chaos. “Discord! What are you doing here?”
A brow raised, Discord watched as Celestia grabbed a cluster of napkins with her magic, frantically wiping them over her mouth. The Princess, almost immediately, took on a stately look about her.
“Oh, I was very hungry,” Discord muttered, giving Celestia a sideways glance. “But it appears that a certain princess has eaten all of the food. Oh, how very gluttonous. I wonder what sort of tyrannical Princess would do such a thing? Let them eat cake, indeed.”
Glaring at Discord, Celestia shook her head – though her cheeks were such a shade of red that the Element of Honesty would have taken upon her an urge to harvest Celestia’s cheeks. “Don’t give me that, Discord. Why are you here?”
Taking an innocuous expression, Discord put his hands together. “Can’t a reformed spirit just spend some time with his favorite sunbutt?” he asked, his words laced with an ulterior layer of venom. “Or is she too busy eating and summoning random beasts from other worlds?”
“I can eat when I wish, Discord,” Celestia began, before stopping in her tracks. “Wait, what did you say about a random beast?”
Discord frowned, tilting his head. “You heard me, Princess. Random Beasts – in fact, I just met one in the hallway, not thirty minutes before. Your sister stopped me from tossing the bugger right out the window, though.”
The princess shook her head, at once concerned and, very much so, confused. “What are you talking about, Discord? What about this beast?”
The Spirit of Chaos wove a paw in dismissal, looking away. “Oh, forget that for a moment or two. Celestia, I wanted to tell you about something.”
“Oh?”
Grabbing a piece of a tart with a talon, Discord popped it into his mouth. “You have heard about the trouble in the north? What that little Crystal Pony, Mister Mirror Marble, said about what he saw? Yes?”
Celestia nodded, wondering where he was going with this. “I have.”
“I felt, and saw, the same things he did,” Discord explained, settling his eyes on a plate of pudding. “Deeply unsettling – darkness, the likes of which I have never seen before. Celestia, there is something inherently wrong, hiding in the north.”
“I know about that,” Celestia said, shaking her head. “Luna told me all about it. It’s something we’ve been looking into.”
Discord sighed, placing a paw upon his cheek. “That’s not all, dear. When I returned from the north, I came across a particular creature, strolling through the halls of the castle. That random beast I was talking about. Why don’t you take a guess as to what it was?”
Celestia shook her head. “I wouldn’t know.”
Laughing darkly, Discord wiped a paw over his face. “He calls himself a human – or, at least, your sister did. Very protective of that thing, I should like to say. And, Celestia, would you like to know of a very interesting coincidence?” Celestia leaned forwards in anxious interest, her ears angling towards Discord. She knew of the human, obviously, yet feared what kind of interaction Discord had held with the Undead.
“I felt the very same feeling from the north, here in this very castle. I’m sure you can guess where from.”
Celestia’s mouth hung open, her eyes wide and her visage more than a little troubled. Shaking her head, the alicorn princess turned away from Discord. “I… I don’t know what to say. I’ve had my doubts about Roland, but Luna seems to trust him.”
“Keep an eye on this Roland, Celestia. Or two, the more the better. But I think – I know he’s hiding something. Whether he knows it or not.”
With a flutter of his serpentine body, Discord popped out of existence, leaving behind a disturbed and worried Sun Princess, pastry crumbs speckling her mouth.
Many hours had passed since the apparent crisis concerning my diet – or lack thereof – and Luna and I had enjoyed a good day spent with each other. She had given me a lengthy tour of the palace grounds, pointing out more than a few landmarks here and there that had caught my fancy. It was a good bonding experience, to be sure, and I could tell that the princess had enjoyed our time together. As had I.
Night had fallen, yet nevertheless Luna and I relished each other’s company. We found ourselves in her study, a collection of tomes and books scattered around the large cushion we shared. Luna was enjoying a plate of tarte au citron, a delicacy from the aristocratic principality of Prance, and had decided to share a rather peculiar tale from the dessert’s mother country.
“So Prince Trèfle screams, ‘my coat is ruined!’ not bothering to realize that the train behind him had spilt the émaillé peinture, as they call it, all over his longcoat! Oh, how furious the prince was when he finally decided to turn around!”
Luna burst out in uproarious laughter, and I shared a few chuckles with her, despite not understanding the full gravity of the Prench prince’s situation. “Why do Prench royals wear such long coats and dresses?”
“Well, they are an elegant nation, Roland,” Luna responded, her laughter dying down. “But that also makes them a very arrogant sort. And they believe that the longer the coat, the wealthier you are – and wealth is the defining factor of a pony’s influence in Prance.”
I nodded in understanding. “Astora had a few like that. Fortunately enough, most nobles cared more about honor, virtue and faith. Made for a very fierce brand of aristocracy.”
“I wish Equestria and Canterlot would take your homeland’s example,” Luna grumbled, rolling her eyes. “Regrettably, the nobility in Canterlot are tending towards Prench traditions of conceit and haughtiness. Makes it very hard to connect with any of them.”
We fell into a short silence, marred by the occasional sound of Luna’s munching. I wondered what sort of story I should tell her next, that Luna might enjoy the most. Perhaps of the giants, maybe, and Hawkeye Gough – it was an interesting tale, to be sure, though I had never seen a living giant in my own time. Or, perhaps something more recent in time, more relative to myself – something of the Undead Legion?
My thoughts were interrupted by a series of knocks, coming from Luna’s door. I looked to Luna, seeing that she bore a curious expression upon her.
“Interesting,” she muttered, standing to her hooves. “I did not expect a visitor this late tonight.” Looking at me, Luna winked. “Besides you, of course.” Luna faced the door and cleared her throat. “Who is it?”
A muffled voice came from the other side, yet innately familiar. “Princess, your nightly tea!” The door swung open, revealing a dainty mare with a pale blue coat. Upon the tips of a wing sat a silver platter, a teapot and a cup sitting atop it.
“Miss Pad! It is good to see you!” Luna tittered.
Bowing with dignity, Lily Pad spoke with a tone of respect. “I apologize, Princess, but I have brought your tea. And, I might add, some news.” She glanced briefly towards me, and I waved a hand, smiling warmly.
“Worry not, dear Miss Pad,” Luna responded, shaking her head. With her magic, she grabbed the tea off the platter. Taking a sip from the cup, Luna smiled at Lily. “Now, what is this news you’ve brought me?”
Lily Pad gave a quick cough before beginning. “Your majesty, Princess Celestia requires you tomorrow, in her study, at the break of dawn. She would like to speak with you, on important royal matters.”
I sat back on my hands, wondering what Luna’s sister wanted of her. They were both princesses, of course, and most assuredly they bore matters that did not concern me whatsoever, but I couldn’t help but worry. Luna, on the other hand, appeared to be indifferent, nodding at Lily’s words.
“Then I shall meet her. It’ll be nice, to talk to my sister. I haven’t personally seen her for a few days, now.”
Lily Pad curtsied, taking a few steps backwards. “Then I shall make my leave, Princess. Good night.”
Before she could leave, however, Luna grabbed Lily Pad with a hoof. “Nonsense! Don’t you see what Roland and I are doing?”
Shocked by Luna’s grasp, Lily stuttered out an answer. “Uh, n-no, not really?”
“We are ‘hanging out!’” Luna exclaimed, beaming at Lily. “Join us! We could use another friend?”
I watched as Luna dragged Lily to the floor, forcing the alarmed pegasus to sit. “P-p-princess, I’m not sure this is a good idea—”
“Be quiet,” Luna shushed her, placing a hoof upon Lily’s lips. “I do believe Roland was about to tell a story.” She gave me a sideways glance, winking slyly. “Would you be a dear, Roland?”
I shrugged – was there an alternative? “Why not? Can’t be any harm in it,” I said, settling into the cushion below me.
What story would I tell? I wished, very much, to recount my own experiences, yet I feared I had not a firm handle on my own memories yet – too blurred, too faint. Perhaps I would remember my life clearly, in time, yet only those stories handed down to me bore with them any sense of clarity.
Finally deciding upon one particular story, I sat upright, the flame of the fireplace roaring upon my back. “Perhaps the tale of Morne shall suit this night – a most tragic tale, yet raging with an inherent wrath of faith.”
Luna grinned in excitement, a sight most unusual of a most regal figure, while Lily twiddled in her seat, apparently uncomfortable.
“Our tale begins in Carim – a land once sinister, of treacherous priests and murderous oracles. A land that, unfortunately enough, knew more suffering than kindness. Faith, in the gods and in the flame, defined that dark kingdom of men, having taken over from menacing callings, yet unlike a land such as Astora, noble and kind at heart, Carim’s faith was that of onerous duty and hateful companionship.
All knights of Carim are given a maiden to serve and protect, their only duty throughout their lives. And all knights of Carim grow to despise this duty, and despise the maiden, their reviled burden throughout life. Yet, some find love in such a vile relationship – partisan as it is, their fires of bridled love parallel that of the tradition’s origin. A man who, like them, once served a maiden and, like those pitied souls who found solace in their unmindful charges, grew to love her. Yet, she was more than just a mere maiden, for Caitha was a goddess… or a demon…”
Roland slept, sat upright upon the floor in his room. The night was quiet and dark as the moon slowly faded from the sky, yet his sleep was a fitful one, far from restful. He muttered tainted words, groans of pain, and the cloak upon his back billowed in an invisible wind. It was the sort of sleep one might have if, perhaps, one dreamt of old, hurtful memories and shades of battle – whether with a physical enemy, or an index of one’s troubles.
Above him was a luminescent light, pale blue in regard and sheen. Somehow, curiosity emanated from the manifestation’s light, inching closer and closer to Roland’s scarred face. It whispered in ancient words, of duty and lunar virtue. The cold embrace of the moon enveloped Roland’s dreams, and Luna could see.
He held a goblet, of enameled gold and iridescent gem. Roland peered into its contents, and was met with a profuse layer of bubbling crimson. It smelled of tainted iron, rusted copper, and bore from within a budding fire. The crimson dripped down the sides of the goblet, leaving burns where it roiled. It was blood. Hot, effervescent blood, baying to his heart like a lupine mother. The world around Roland was dark, yet before him was a fire – a sizzling fire that seemed to have been fueled by the fountain of blood from which he had lifted his share. In the shadows around him, crowds of pointed helms watched with careful eyes and wild grin. They were waiting. No time to spare. With a single motion, Roland gulped down the blood, awaiting its fateful touch. Pain, burning pain, shot down Roland’s throat, and bubbled inside him. He doubled over, letting loose a savage snarl. His teeth glistened in the dark, the crimson settling into the nascent lengths of his canines. A voice whispered into his ear. “You are our Brother now, Roland of Astora. Rise, that you may join our ranks.” Nodding, Roland receded from the fountain and the fire, placing the goblet once more into the pool of blood. The Watchers behind him shifted in their spots, allowing for a new space between them. Roland took his position, bowing his head like his new family around him. “Burns, doesn’t it?” A voice asked calmly, from his right. Roland made to turn, but the voice interrupted him. “Don’t bother turning. The Song will begin soon enough.” “It does burn,” Roland responded, closing his eyes briefly. “We are brothers now, aren’t we? May I know your name?” The voice spoke again, chuckling below its breath. “You may. I am Hawkwood. A native here in Farron. I already know your name.” Roland made to reply, but Hawkwood interrupted him, clearing his throat. “Quiet now. The Acolytes are starting the Song.” Somewhere in the darkness, a bell gonged, and a feminine voice began to sing. It was like a siren of legend, crying out into the gloom like a plea for salvation. Roland knew the Song – it was required, for the ritual; it was required to become an Abyss Watcher, the uppermost layer of the Undead Legion. The Song progressed, and around him his brothers began to sing in harmony, accompanying the Acolyte in her melodic dirge. Roland sang with them, and the Abyss Watchers pronounced their sacred words, bound by blood and by duty. Their dogma would live on forever, in the hearts of those who fought the Abyss. The Song eventually ended, the Acolyte’s voice fading - a mournful hymn on the night wind, calling for a purpose, and redemption from the curse. The Abyss Watchers stood in their places, holding their blades upwards in their infamous Etiquette. Roland mirrored them, his heart proud that he had found his own onus, his sacred calling. He smiled, his grin wicked and his teeth lupine. The Wolf’s Blood had sealed his fate.
The dream had ended, and above Roland’s body the luminescent light shone with a sense of half-faded satisfaction, and unending curiosity. It floated away in the night, eager to fulfill its duty amongst other hosts. It was Luna’s nightly vocation, after all, to tend to the dreams of her subjects.
Yet, behind her, the tendrils upon Roland’s cloak sizzled in a serpentine fashion, slowly crawling over the Undead’s body.
It was late the next day, when I had realized something significant.
The slow, unending creep of boredom had reached me, and I found little to do in the castle that entertained me. Luna was, unfortunately enough, entangled in some manner of conversation with her sister, and would likely be unavailable for some time. I had, furthermore, promised myself to let loose on the training, for there was only a finite number of courtyards I could ruin in good faith.
Thoughts on how to banish my boredom wandered all over my mind, each a varying degree of insanity or monotony. It crossed my mind to visit Lily, perhaps, but I figured that she would be hard at work, serving the needs of the castle and its courtiers.
And so, the day had gone by, in which I had done nothing but wander. There were only so many days I could spend at the archives before going mad, and there were only so many stories of Equestria’s past before I tired of them. I would need to save the stories for later. Yet, it occurred to me that I had not once left the Sun and Moon districts of Canterlot at all. I had learned from Luna that the capital city of Equestria was divided into four distinct districts, all with their own unique properties and characteristics.
The Sun District, where I spent the majority of the time, was the region in which the castle and its grounds were. At the very top, the palace shone like a magnificent jewel upon the blue sky, towering above the rest of the mountain like a good father. At its base was the Crown District, where the “crème de la crop,” as Luna had once called them in the Prench tongue, resided – high-necked, blue-blooded noble aristocrats who sought to sustain themselves within the highest circles of Equestrian life.
Somewhere high, between the Sun and Crown Districts, was the Moon District – a place of learning and scholarly education, and the home of the Canterlot Archives. Its name reflected the personae best known of Princess Luna in ancient times – knowledge and academia were of the highest importance, and Luna had, allegedly, been a keen patron of the arts and education in the days of Equestrian yore. That, and her supposed prowess in martial skill and military strategy.
Canterlot’s final, and lowermost district, was the Jewel District. Contrary to its name, the Jewel District was a place for the lowest classes of Canterlot society – craftsmen, traders, industrial workers, and the lot. Luna had told me that the Jewel District had once been the center of the Canterlot mining industry, and bore direct access to the extensive, yet defunct, cave systems layered beneath the city like a spider’s labyrinthine web.
Allegedly, one of the best “taverns” was established in the Jewel District, meant to serve workers and laborers with unending platters of food. “Donut Joe’s,” she had called it. Luna had said that, many a night, she and her sister would visit the commoner’s den. In disguise, of course.
Joe. What an odd name.
Yet, I digressed. I had kept myself locked, figuratively, within the Sun and Moon Districts, yet curiosity frenzied within me like a trapped crow. I wanted to see the supposed normality of Canterlot life, and I wanted to observe how the common pony might live.
I desperately wanted, if only for a moment, some sense of normalcy and banality – to long had I lived through extraordinary circumstance, and under the constant fear of hollowing and the Abyss.
Thus, my boredom.
Late that night, I found myself creeping through the dim streets of the Crown District. The sun had fallen long before, and the city was bathed in shadows and gloom. The occasional lamppost provided some sources of light, but for the most part, I could not see far in the everlasting darkness.
That was, however, not to say that the city was dead – by no means was it, not at all. Every building along the streets was full of light within, the voices of crowds of ponies audible throughout every corner of the city. Their conversations ranged from topic to topic, much of which I was ignorant to, yet found interesting enough.
It was clear the city itself was a breathing heart, the calm breaths and eager tones of every one of its citizens the air that gave the capital life. It was a phenomenon I was wholly unaccustomed to – something that I only now realized I had missed.
My younger days, fraught with life and youth in the grand city of Astora and its surrounding communes, had been a long, long time ago.
I was sitting, now, atop a particular house’s roof, gazing down upon the cobbled streets of Canterlot. Looking down, I spotted a troupe of mares, dressed in a most fashionable manner as they roamed the road. Walking along the roof, I listened to what they were saying.
“The night has been a bit friendlier, now that you mention it. Why, I haven’t had a real nightmare since several months ago!” “Yes, that is what Madame Brightlight was saying as well! I do wonder why this has been the case.” “Oh, I’d wager it’s because of that Alicorn,” a third said, throwing her head back. “What’s her name again? The Princess’s sister?” “Luna.” “Yes, her. Oh, I’ve heard so many rumors about that one. Always so secretive, hiding in the dark they say. Why, I’ve found that only one of the houses has had the stones to send envoys to her night court, and they’ve had some juicy things to say, about that.” “What sorts of things?” “Yes, yes! Tell us! Oh, I’m sure dear Goldhollow will be delighted to hear this sort of gossip.” “Fine, fine, if you insist… I hear that the younger princess has taken a pet, of sorts – a strange creature, all dark and mysterious. The dam of House Yellowtone herself has received word from a palace guard, that Luna and her pet have retreated to her quarters alone – Celestia knows what they’re doing in her room.” I ceased my eavesdropping, not at all eager to hear any more of their chatter. I was more than a bit disturbed, and I found within me a want to find this chinwag of a guard and report him to Luna.
Yet, in that instant, I realized that there was something of even more importance, within the streets of Canterlot.
I smelled it.
Reeking, rotting. Hidden in some corner, in some tomb underneath the streets, like a decrepit foundation of man.
I smelled the putrid flesh of a hollow, deep within the city. Worry took me, then, and like an alert watch-dog I rose from my perch and sniffed the air.
Somewhere, deep within the recesses of the city, was a hollow. An undead.
There it was, deep within the filth of the Jewel District.
Buried beneath mounds of dirt and rotten fish.
The helm upon its head coned, pointed.
The sabre within its hands so familiar, so foul.
A Follower of Farron had arrived in Equestria, by means unknown.
Yet, its scent was strong, its undeath only recent.
Had it come upon my footsteps? Were there more, hiding in the shadows to leap upon me?
The dreadful implications were unpleasant, and I pulled up the sleeves of my armor, my hands shaking. My eyes wandered upon my own flesh, searching for any hint of the dark gone wild – a seething pus.
The air was silent, devoid of any sounds besides the occasional clinking of a glass. I could feel the tension building up inside me, a strange mixture of mild fear and great apprehension. I knew that Celestia felt the same, sitting across from me with a stern look upon her.
It was rather amusing, to be honest – that the ruler of a grand nation had called for my presence, sending messengers to rouse me from my sleep. Yet, I knew that Celestia wanted to speak of something of great importance – I could only wonder what it was that piqued her interest, yet I figured it had something to do with Luna’s own conversation with her the day before.
A minor assemblage of food had been laid before us, sat neatly upon the pearl-white cloth of the grand table. Bread of all sorts, more varieties than I had ever seen in my life and death, seemed to take the front stage, supported by bouquets of fruits and vegetables. They would do nothing for me, to be honest, unless prepared in the correct manner within the throes of alchemy, but I felt I could amuse Celestia.
Thus, I grasped a particular bud of greens, placing them quietly into my mouth. It was unwise to hope, but I still did – yet I felt no reinvigoration of my body, no rush of energy through my veins. It was no valuable green blossom, having not been prepared correctly, and the food bore no taste to my tongue.
Across from me, Celestia’s eyes were brooding, gauging. They wandered over my own, careful judgement and cautious evaluation within those lavender circles. Her eyes were rather attractive, truth be told, and I found myself gazing back into those orbs, countless decades and centuries hidden behind a kind veil.
Some Undead might have lived for centuries, yet most would hollow long before then, hundreds of years of experience gone to pitiful waste. I only wondered what mine own eyes told about myself – what Celestia saw in them, on her part.
Celestia’s voice brought me out of my reverie, a musical tone upon the air.
“It is very nice to finally speak to you,” she spoke, her tone strong and stern, yet not unkind. “I am told your name is Roland of Astora. You might already know who I am.”
I nodded, trying my best to appear respectful and diligent. “Likewise, your Majesty,” I replied, bowing my head ever so slightly. “Princess Luna has told me good deal about you. I have great respect for a ruler of such a great nation.”
Flattery. What a sham, to be honest. I had never had much experience in speaking with nobles and aristocrats – I was, more often, the one tearing their rotted kingdoms apart and burning their homely palaces to ashes. Best not say that to Celestia, of course.
The Princess smirked in odd amusement, and I returned her sideways grin – it seemed that Celestia shared my sentiment on the blithering sycophancy of the grandees. “Yes, my sister… she has much to learn, but I love her very much.”
I knew the intent behind her words – she wanted me to react, to see under the light my actions and reactions to those that I might bear close. “And I know she returns your love, Princess. But, I’m sure you wanted to speak with me on matters besides such familial relations?”
Celestia nodded. “Yes, you are correct in your assumption.” She took a deep breath. “Ser Roland, my sister has taken a great liking to you. I do not know why, so I wish to get to know you myself.”
“Then ask away,” I averted my eyes, my attention split between a flaky tart and Celestia’s voice. “I’m sure you have many questions.”
“Indeed.”
She took a second to sip upon a cup of tea, before clearing her throat. “Ser Roland, why have you taken such an interest in my sister?”
The question was simple, but stopped me outright. Why, indeed, had I clutched onto Luna with such affection? The answer that might have slipped off my tongue was her tendency to visit me in the night, and our mutual interest in stories and tales. In turn, I had visited her more than a few times, in the dead of night, when some might have simply slept, and rested their tired bones that, doubtless, I shared.
Yet, on second thought, that might have not been the truest case. Indeed, I had the smallest of inklings that, perhaps, Luna was not as interested in the stories themselves, but their relation to myself, and who I might have been. Perhaps, instead, we had both clutched on to the other, because of some kinship of spirit.
Maybe we had been hasty, in that regard. One, a lonesome goddess, unsteady upon her hooves in a world that resembled her own, yet unlike it altogether. The other, a quickly hollowing shade that would have latched onto anything to keep his treasured humanity.
Yes, that was it. Doubt clawed at my insides, but I returned my attention to Celestia. She was waiting.
“I... I am not entirely sure, to be honest. I feel a sense of kinship with Princess Luna, your Majesty,” I answered, and Celestia rose a brow. “We are alike, you see, in more ways than our simple love of tales.”
“And are there others that you see in the same regard? Other… kindred spirits?” Celestia asked, tilting her head.
I shook my head in response, slowly and deliberately. “No, I’m afraid. There is one other… perhaps two, that I might consider a friend in Equestria, but I do not feel with them as I do Luna.” I took a deep breath, closing my eyes. “I haven’t had a true friend in a long time, Princess… those I have left behind were nothing more than beasts by the time I had left them.”
I did not tell Celestia that I was one of those beasts - monstrosities in our own form and figure. Yet, she still bore a sense of curiosity and mild horror about her.
“Do… you think that you’ll turn into a beast as well?”
A poignant question, indeed. I sat and thought about it, for more than a few moments. “Should I lose faith in myself, then I will, most undoubtedly, hollow. I will lose my mind, and my humanity. But I think Luna’s friendship may be enough. For a long while.”
Celestia leaned forwards, her eyes dark and attentive. “And, Ser Roland, what will you do if you do… hollow, as you call it? How can I trust you to not raise your sword against my sister?”
“I will feel the slow creep of insanity. Without a doubt. And, should I feel that I am losing the will to live, well… I’ve a plan for that. And I have many things to do.”
“And what, pray tell, are those things?” The princess asked, inquisitive and, unfortunately, more than a mite suspicious.
I chuckled darkly, feeling regret and frustration. My plans would harm more than myself, and I greatly lamented that quality. “Oh, nothing much. A contingency here, proposition there… best not worry about it too much, Princess.”
“Oh, and please don’t call me Ser. Never was a knight. Never will be.”
If I were to fully engage myself in Equestria – arguably my new home – then there were certain plans, certain “contingencies,” as I had told Princess Celestia, that I would need to put into effect. The threat of hollows was too great, especially those that would retain their skills and trades crafted in life, and I feared what would become of this new land should a hollow stalk amongst its people.
Silver Steelhooves was the first on my list and, most probably, the one who would have the most influence staging this plan of mine. Luna would refuse outright, I knew – she would not let me do what I must, and so I would need to keep my close friend unaware, caught within the fog of war.
The Palace Guard barracks was a modestly sized garrison, located some paces away from the palace itself. While the Canterlot Guard, the rank-and-file of Canterlot’s militia-like constabulary, was quartered deep within the city itself, the elites that patrolled the princess’ domain found themselves with the fortune of being stationed in the heart of the Sun District.
As I approached the barracks, some of the guards gave me slight nods, or the odd salute. They were amongst the few who knew who I was – many had seen me roving the palace’s halls, and all had been briefed of my existence by their captain. One called out to me – I knew him moderately well.
“Roland!” he cried out, smiling at my arrival. He was stood outside the barracks, presumably on guard. “It’s good to see you, lad. How’ve you been?” His accent was not unlike those of Jugo, a land that had once been tainted by the foul stench of the Abyss.
I returned the guard’s smile, holding out a gloved hand to grasp his hoof. “I’ve been well, Grizzly Days. Your old knees holding up?”
Grizzly Days was a rather old stallion, yet one would not know it from the way he moved about. From what little conversation I had held with him, I knew that he had been a guard for many years – four decades, in fact. The young of the guard looked up to the old, grizzled warhorse, and though many a brash, rosy-cheeked guard recruit would challenge him to a bout, he swore none would best him until his back broke in half. Grizzly had told me that he would retire, should a youngster get the better of him.
Well, he hadn’t retired yet.
“They are, they are,” Grizzly grunted as he grasped my hand, shaking it firmly. Muscles rippled under his greying coat as he stretched. “Now, what are you here for, lad?”
“I’m looking for Captain Steelhooves, Grizzly,” I asked him, taking a step back. “Perhaps, you might be ken as to where I can find him?”
The old stallion nodded his head, pointing into the barracks. “Aye, you can find him in the barracks. He’s got an office, past the mess hall.” I nodded in thanks, making to leave. “You’d best find him soon, Roland. The colts are all looking to take a sojourn at some tavern in the city.”
“Thank you, Grizzly. Make a good eve, for yourself.”
“And you, lad.”
I left Grizzly at his station, ducking through the, unfortunately low, doors of the barracks. I made my way through the halls, eventually finding myself before the doors of an office. A plaque, of oak and gold, sat above the door, detailing the words Captain of the Guard.” Satisfied at having found the right place, I knocked thrice upon the wood of the door.
A voice called from within, familiar and recognizable. “I’m here. Come in.”
I opened the door, walking into the office. Almost immediately, I was greeted by the scent of oranges and citrus, wafting from within. Rows of cabinets and drawers were arrayed down the sides of the room, and in the center, behind an oaken desk of accented gold, sat a white-coated stallion, his mane a cool silver.
“Oh,” Silver Steelhooves said, leaning back in his chair. He bore about him a certain sense of shock and apprehension. “I… did not expect to find you here, Roland.”
“I didn’t think you would, in all honesty,” I responded. Taking a few sniffs, I looked around the room. “It smells of citrus in here. Have you a liking for it?”
Captain Steelhooves did not respond for a few moments, looking more than a bit contemplative. “Well, not me. It’s alright. The smell is… more, in fact, to remember my sister.” He chuckled, a tone of sorrow in each breath of his. “I do miss her.”
I clutched a hand at my chest, looking down. “I understand. My thoughts are with her spirit.”
Raising a brow, Steelhooves gave a short laugh. “Oh, I think you misunderstand. She’s… not dead. I just haven’t seen her in a long time… uncomfortably long,” he explained, and I felt a tinge of embarrassment. “She and I had a… bit of a row, you see, and I…” He looked away. “Well, I would like to talk to her again, some time.”
We stood in silence, neither man nor stallion knowing what to say in those precious seconds. It was, as some ponies here would call it, “awkward.” A word that I felt I was feeling far too often in Equestria.
I eventually broke the silence, hoping to herald my request, my offer, with some manner of small-talk. “So, Captain. How goes the watch?”
Visibly relieved, Steelhooves leaned forwards. “Quiet day so far, I suppose. Well, quiet week, rather. No crimes to report, no cases on hoof for the investigative branch.” Looking away, the guard captain grabbed hold of a quill upon his desk, playing with it in his hoof. “So, I decided to give the boys some rest – some leave. I think they’re getting ready to head on to some bar, down in the Jewel District, and cool off their heads.” Dropping the quill in its bottle of ink, Steelhooves leaned back and looked up into the ceiling. “Celestia knows they need it.”
I, in all honesty, hadn’t had much experience with alcohol. Perhaps, in an age faraway and long ago, I had tasted the violet tinge of wine, or the honeyed nectar of ale or mead, but Undead had no use for such drink, and even lesser want for it. I had heard of, mayhaps, a certain Undead whom had formulated some manner of drink for the Undead, brewed from the very fire that gave us life in troubled times, but I had never known it in person, and only counted it as a tale for the hopeful.
In truth, the Wolf’s Blood had been the only source of intoxication for my brothers and I – and we had only drank from it once.
I returned my attention to the conversation at hand, hoping to voice my concerns. “I do not understand the stratagem behind allowing guards to drink during such times,” I said, shrugging simply. “Perhaps during leave, I suppose, but I do not see the sensibility in it.”
“Oh, cut them some slack,” Silver Steelhooves responded in turn, waving a hoof in partial dismissal. “They work their flanks off every day, working hour by hour. They deserve a break, once in a while.”
Narrowing my eyes, I leaned forwards and placed my hands on the desk. I foresaw it to be a gesture of some grave solemnity, but due to the unfortunately short stature of the desk, I was required to crouch. It removed all sense of gravity to the situation.
“And, I suppose, you wouldn’t see the sense in taking a rest yourself, Captain?” I asked the somewhat-shocked stallion. “You say your men work without pause, without rest, and deserve a leave, yet you do not see the same in yourself?”’
Steelhooves looked uncomfortable, visibly unable to answer my question. Leaning back, he shrugged. “Equestria is under constant threat nowadays, Roland. Both the Guard Corps and the Royal Military make sure the nation stays safe.” His words avoided my demands, but I decided to let it go. I still needed to speak about my request, after all. “They are more competent than many would have you believe, Roland, but the guards need their rest, and I need to stay vigilant.”
Truthfully, I disagreed with his words, yet did not pursue the matter. “Very well, then. So be it, Captain.”
“Now,” I spoke again, making to turn around. “I need to speak with you about something very private, Captain.” Approaching the door, I turned its lock, taking a moment to make sure of its security. Refocusing my attention on the guard captain, I noticed that he had taken an expression of great shock, and thinly veiled fear.
“Oh, I… um,” Silver Steelhooves stuttered, and I raised my hands in a placating manner.
“Peace, Captain Steelhooves. I’ve only a request of you. Do you trust me?”
He was silent for a moment, visibly loathe to respond, before finally shaking his head. “Frankly? No, I don’t. Not really.”
Silver Steelhooves’ eyes were latched upon my own, grey orbs fraught with a potent mixture of fear and apprehension. It was not unwarranted – I had an inkling that some within the guard corps possessed some suspicion of my being, and I hadn’t done much to assuage them otherwise, besides befriend one of their diarchs.
“You shan’t worry, Captain,” I spoke clearly, deliberately – I did not want to appear threatening. “If Celestia commands you so, then I am sure that she has told you to keep an eye on me.”
Steelhooves’ ears flattened upon his skull, his silver mane tossing about. I only now noticed that it was braided long. An interesting note. “How did you know?”
“Guards watching me in the night, keeping tabs on my existence. Never a moment’s rest, without some manner of watchman nearby. You didn’t think I would notice?” I turned, taking in the rest of the captain’s office. A pot sat in the corner, a large, green plant rising from the dirt. “It all comes to a head when your princess herself calls to meet me for a luncheon.”
The stallion fidgeted slightly – in all honesty, it was rather unbefitting of a guard of his rank and stature. “And so we have – nothing to it. I’d rather you got to the point, Roland. My men are waiting for me.”
I chuckled, turning back towards the guard captain. “Then so be it. Like I said, Captain – I’ve a proposition. I’d like for you to gather a small host of guards, strong of heart and ken of war.”
“What for?” he asked. I groaned internally – Captain Steelhooves was awfully nosy.
“A contingency. Hunters of one, adherents of devotion.”
Steelhooves scowled, shaking his head. “And what makes you think I’d do that for you? You haven’t given me a reason.”
“I would rather not, Captain, but you are right,” I relented, nodding. “I’m afraid dark days await ahead for Equestria, and there will come a time when friends must be cut down, for the greater good.”
“What are you saying?” Silver Steelhooves was confused, greatly so. I could not blame him, yet I could not tell him more than I had to. “You’re being very cryptic, Roland.”
Sighing, I shook my head and closed my eyes. “I’m saying, Silver Steelhooves, that these guards of yours will kill me, should the worst come to pass.” His eyes widened, both in confusion and great fear. “So, find these guards of yours, and give me their dossiers. And, by all that is holy, do not tell Luna.”
“Why?” His suspicion returned, albeit blunted by the implications of what I had said.
“She will attempt to block his maneuver, for our friendship’s sake,” I responded, looking away. “But, if you value this life of yours, and all you hold dear, then you will not tell her.” I turned to leave, opening the door.
“If not for me, then for the well-being of Equestria.”
I departed him then, the faint scent of citrine perfume following me out of the stallion’s office. I only hoped that Steelhooves would fulfill my requests, lest my plans come to ruin.
I had returned to my quarters by the next morning, the first step of my preparations finished. I had only a few more things to attend to in this contingency of mine, yet I knew that I was only running of mere suspicion – inklings of a great horror, whispers of a foul darkness, and dreams of a most unpleasant end.
Suffice to say, they were more akin to nightmares than simple dreams.
Yet, those next steps were to wait, until further days ahead. I needed to take things slowly, and work my way through the palace like a serpent in a wooded bog. If Luna, and perhaps Celestia, caught wind of my actions, I was sure all pleasantry would be thrown aside, replaced with the gnashing of teeth and spirited words barren of reason.
Several necessities were in order, that I might survive in the coming days. Some mortar and pestle was to be acquired, and the tools needed to brew the concoctions I needed. Perhaps some bugs, here and there, of a most dark kind – Watchers depended upon such medicine, to aid in their journeys, and I was most fortunate that some of the Acolytes had seen fit to teach me such arts.
And yet, all Undead required a home – a resting place, a hearth. This room of mine, that Luna had given unto me, was not home – it was not warm, though the fireplace crackled with a roaring blaze, and it was not a light in the dark, despite its proximity to the bright sun in the sky.
I looked around the room, taking in the sights. I hadn’t touched much of it – I wasn’t quite comfortable with it, despite my lies that I indeed called it my home. Many of the shelves and cabinets had gathered dust upon their oak, and though one closet had been disturbed quite recently, the others lay unused.
My sword and dagger sat upon a table in the middle – I realized, now, that I hadn’t much use of them in Canterlot, and it had been a few days since they had last found a place in my hands. I knew that, given recent events and revelations, I would eventually need to use them.
Not now, however. Not now.
I was pulled from my thoughts by a knock upon my door. Rising to my feet, I approached the white door and opened it. I was greeted by a friendly, familiar face.
“Luna!” I exclaimed, a smile stretching across my lips. “It’s good to see you here, and so early, too! What is the occasion?”
The princess of the moon giggled, rolling her eyes. “Oh, yes, I’m not used to waking so early, but certain circumstances provide that I awake at an hour similar to most ponies.” She stood to the side, and behind her was another pony, small like the rest. She had a shining, pearly white coat, and a brilliantly violet mane that was, quite obviously, very well kept.
A strange look was about the new pony, and her eyes betrayed a degree of uneasiness about her. “This is Rarity!” Luna beckoned the pony to take a step forwards, smiling. “She is… a friend?”
Luna looked down at Rarity with some degree of uncertainty, a hopeful look in her eyes. The mare, although visibly nervous, nodded her head. “Oh, oh yes! Of course, princess!” she coughed out, her gaze wandering between myself and Luna. “Anything for you and Princess Celestia!”
The princess sighed, although Rarity seemed not to catch that little detail. “Thank you, Rarity. Like I said, I’d like for you to meet Roland of Astora – a good friend of mine.” Luna extended a hoof out towards me, and Rarity took a step forwards, giving a small curtsy.
“It’s an honor to meet a friend of the princess,” Rarity said, giving an uneasy smile.
I smiled a toothy grin, inclining my head a tad bit. “The pleasure is mine, Miss Rarity.” Best that I address her discomfort now. “I hope you aren’t too taken aback by my… likeness?”
The mare’s cheeks flushed a deep red – she was, most definitely, a pony of some class. “No, no! It’s not that, I just…” Rarity giggled nervously, looking away. “I must say, that when Luna had said there was somepony she wanted me to meet, I did presume he would be a pony.”
Ah, yes. That would be the case, wouldn’t it? “Well, no need to worry, Miss Rarity,” I waved my hand, taking a step towards the unicorn. She flinched ever so slightly, but I ignored that. “There aren’t too many of my kind in Equestria. And a friend to Luna is a friend to myself.”
I held out a hand, and Rarity grasped it with a hoof of her own. Rarity’s grip was light, gentle - I had grown accustomed to the strange features of ponies’ hooves in Equestria, yet would never truly understand them and their similarity to my own hands.
As well as their proportionate dissimilarity to the hooves of the horses I had known in the past.
Setting those thoughts aside, I stepped back, motioning for my guests to enter the room. “Come, come in! I’m sure you didn’t come all the way here simply to introduce us.”
Luna shook her head. “I’m afraid we still have to get Rarity settled in, Roland – I still haven’t even told you why she’s here, after all.”
“Then, by all means, tell me,” I said, holding a hand up. “I’ve some time.”
“Rarity is here under my patronage,” Luna explained, smiling down at the pony in question. “I met her down in Ponyville, a few months ago.”
Rarity grinned, her eyes closed. “Oh, yes. During Nightmare Night – it was a very fun time, if I recall correctly.”
“Really now?” I asked, receiving a pair of nods. “You’ll have to tell me the story sometime, Luna. It seems you’re keeping things from me.”
I gave the princess a sly look, narrowing my eyes. Luna gave a soft little laugh, rolling her eyes. “Maybe later, Roland. Anyways, my friendship with you has inspired me.”
“Hm?” I was surprised, taken aback – what could I have possibly inspired her to do?
“Friends, Roland – I could use some more of them,” Luna explained. Rarity shifted on her hooves beside her, looking a tad bit uncomfortable. “Rarity is here to help me with that. I needed some advice on holding a ball in the palace, before I ask Tia herself, and a new dress might not hurt, either.”
I nodded in understanding. “I see.” Turning to Rarity, I raised a brow. “And you are staying here, under the Princess’s patronage, Miss Rarity?”
She nodded in response. “Correct. I’m staying in another tower,” Rarity said, pointing some distance away. True to her words, another tower sat where her hoof pointed, nearly identical to my own. “My friends will be visiting in a few days, but that’s for a different reason.”
“Oh?” I queried, looking back at Luna. She shook her head. “I see. Perhaps I should visit sometime? The more friends the merrier, I have always said.”
Rarity looked surprised, taking a step back. “Oh! Um, of course!” she stuttered out. “Anytime!”
I shrugged – it was clear that Rarity was not quite comfortable with me yet. “Well, like I said, it’s been a pleasure, Miss Rarity. I look forwards to meeting the rest of your friends soon.”
“Likewise, Ser Roland,” Rarity said, turning around. “Shall we go now, Princess?”
Luna nodded, making to leave. Before they could depart, however, I cleared my throat.
“Luna?” She turned, a brow raised as she looked at me. “May I speak to you for a moment? In private?” I motioned into my room, holding a hand out.
Slowly, the princess nodded. “Rarity? Fetch a servant, and have them bring you to your room. I’ll be there shortly.”
Not waiting for an answer, Luna followed me into the tower, closing the door behind her. I stood silently for a few moments, unsure how to broach the subject I wanted to talk about.
“Roland?” Luna asked, taking a step forwards. “What did you want to talk about?”
I took a deep breath, looking down. “Are you free tonight, Luna?”
She nodded, clearly a bit uneasy. “Yes, I am. Roland, what’s wrong?” Luna tilted her head. “Is something the matter?”
“No, no, I am fine,” I reassured her. “But, something has come to my attention. I spoke with your sister yesterday, and something she said…”
“Celestia?” Luna asked, her ears pricking forwards. “What did she want to speak to you about?”
I shook my head, placing a hand firmly upon the princess’s shoulders. “Nothing important, don’t worry. But, we talked, and I realized that I needed to speak with you about something.” I gave her a little scratch. “I’ll come visit later. No stories, though – not tonight.”
“Then what are we to talk about?” Luna was confused, her eyes betraying some small degree of fear and apprehension. “Roland?”
“Our friendship, Luna.” I answered plainly, smiling down at her. “I felt we need to clear and air, clarify a few matters of importance. We may have been hasty, and I want to make sure our friendship isn’t merely a hastily crafted shell of stories and tales.”
My words evidently did nothing to assuage Luna of her confusion, but when she made to speak, I placed a finger upon her lips. “Shh. We’ll talk later – I’m sure you’re very busy right now.”
It was clear that Luna wanted to know more, but did not press the subject further. I was glad, for that – doubt still gnawed at my insides, lying dormant since my conversation with Princess Celestia the day before, but I still hoped.
I simply hoped that Luna and I could make sense of our friendship, and make sure that it was not simply a case of kindred spirits latching onto each other out of some manner of desperation.
Luna’s night was… peaceful. Serene. A calm wind, upon a roiling sea of stars, that one might lose themselves within the depths. It was now that I wondered, for the first time in my life perhaps, why humanity feared the night and the dark so. Was it the absence of light, the cold fingers of solitude touching upon their hearts?
Or, perhaps, was it the sensation that, when one looked upon the night, they looked upon themselves? Humanity was the dark, after all, and what happiness was there to be had in gazing upon one’s true nature?
I shook my head, wishing not to ponder such ideals further. Turning from the open balcony, my eyes settled upon Princess Luna’s seated form. She was seated beside her study’s fireplace, the crackling orange fire a disparate shade against her indigo fur. Luna’s eyes betrayed her confusion, and perhaps a bit of apprehension. To soothe her fears, I gave my friend a quick smile, returning to her side with simple, eased steps.
“Roland?” she spoke my name, watching as I sat opposite her. My legs were crossed, my hands folded together. “What did you wish to speak of?”
I did not answer for a few moments, gathering my thoughts. I watched as Luna’s ears perked from side to side, emanating confusion. It was quite adorable, really.
“In truth?” I began, looking down upon the cushion we sat on. “Luna, I feel as if we have delved into our… friendship, a bit too quickly.” I tested the word in my mouth, feeling how it felt in body and mind.
Luna’s head tilted, her ears pricking towards me. “How do you mean?” she asked. “Are we not friends, Roland? Have we not confided in each other?”
I shook my head, sighing. “Perhaps we have, Luna, but I feel that it has been a façade.”
“Explain.”
Closing my eyes, I spoke slowly and deliberately. “Stories and tales – that is all that our ‘friendship’ has constituted, Luna,” I turned to face the fire. “We have latched onto each other, dear, in a way that, perhaps, two lost souls may have.
“I feel that, in a sense, we may see the other to be a kindred spirit,” I explained further, looking back upon the princess. “Think on it, for a moment – do you not feel the same way?”
Luna made to speak, her mouth hanging open, but a moment passed and it closed once more. She simply nodded.
“You are a strong mare, Luna. But it does not seem that way when it is merely the two of us. I simply wish to make sure that our friendship is genuine, Luna,” I said, matching Luna’s eyes with my own. “Not simply a weak link between two lost souls. So that we can truly know each other, that we might not act in a manner that is not ourselves.”
“Where did these thoughts come from?” Luna asked me, twirling a hoof. “I am beginning to understand what you are saying, but honestly, this is all… out of the blue.”
“Nowhere,” I lied, giving a sideways grin. “Just some… introspection. A dearth of activities bequeaths upon myself plenty of time for such.”
Luna nodded slowly, looking away. “I see. Then… how do you suggest we begin?”
I took a moment to think, placing a finger upon my chin. “Well, for one, I don’t truly know about you, besides what I’ve gathered from your stories,” I said. “Though, you might know more than a small deal about myself. Perhaps we should speak of ourselves – our tastes, our lively experiences.” Motioning towards Luna, I smiled. “Why don’t you begin?”
She took a moment to think, clearly pondering my suggestion. Shaking her head, Luna smiled. “Then begin I shall. Have you… any question? Somewhere that I can start?”
“One or two,” Luna raised a brow, clearly wanting me to voice my queries. “Are you and your sister the only… alicorns?”
Luna shook her head. “No – you haven’t met her, but Princess Cadence is a third. She’s in the Crystal Empire right now, tending to her city, but I hear that she and the Prince Consort, Shining Armor, wish to visit sometime soon.” Her expression was one of deep thought, her mouth crinkling at the corners. “I only know so much of my sister’s plans, but alicorns are rare enough – it should only be the three of us for some time.”
“I see,” I mumbled, though not quite understanding. “Then, where do alicorns come from? Surely, you and your sister can’t have been the only ones for… the millennia you have lived?”
The princess made to speak, but stopped, her eyes betraying sorrow. Luna sighed, gazing at the ground.
“You are correct,” she muttered, her ears drooping. “There used to be many of us, Roland. Several millennia ago. I… I don’t remember much, it has been so long, but…” Luna trailed off, her faint voice hesitant.
“You shan’t worry about telling me if you do not wish to,” I assured my friend, slowly moving a hand towards her. Luna shook her head, however, clearing her throat.
“No, it’s alright Roland,” the princess said, her voice clearer – more confident. “Tia has told me, several times since I have returned, to not worry about the past.” Gazing into my eyes, Luna smiled. “I intend to live in the present now. But, it won’t hurt to remember the past.
“I remember my mother – faintly,” Luna explained, raising her head to gaze at the ceiling. “She was an alicorn, like my sister and I, and was loving – she cared greatly for us.”
I nodded my head, a whisper of a smile upon my cracked lips. “Do go on.”
Luna gave a light giggle, looking back at me. “I don’t remember much of her, to be quite honest, but there is one memory I will always hold dear,” she closed her eyes, humming a light tune. “She would sing me a song as I practiced my dancing, light and elegant. My mother was the one who taught me how to dance, after all.”
My eyes widened in surprise – I did not expect that. “You dance?” I asked Luna.
“Used to,” she explained. “I haven’t, not since… well, you know.”
I nodded in understanding. “You should show me one day, Luna.” Her cheeks flushed a light red, an awkward grin upon her lips.
“Perhaps one day, dear Roland,” Luna said looking away. “I do remember many moonlit dances under the stars, but… like I said, I haven’t indulged myself in so long.”
Smiling, I placed a light pair of fingers upon Luna’s hoof. “Well, there is no time like the present, Luna. Take care to have your own fun as well.” Retracting my hand, I cleared my throat. “So, if dancing is one of your hobbies… have you any others?”
“Well,” Luna began, placing a hoof under her chin. “There is one thing – you know of it already.”
I titled my head in confusion, raising a brow. “And what would that be?”
The princess of the moon smiled, quiet for a moment, before speaking. “Stories, Roland. You and I both love them, but I do have a rather intimate relationship with tales.”
“How so?”
Luna’s eyes twinkled, and she winked. “What are dreams but stories, in and of themselves?”
I made to reply, but found myself with no words. “Oh. Well, you are right, I suppose,” I chuckled, smirking. “I still don’t quite understand that, really. How you are able to… tend to your subjects’ dreams.”
The princess waved a hoof in dismissal. “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about it, if I were you,” she said. “I’ve only told you so much about Equestrian magic as it is.” Luna smiled, her ears perking to the side. “Now, I’ve told you a bit about myself. Roland, have you any interests yourself?”
I took a few moments to think, pondering her question. “Perhaps I’ve a few. Stories, of course, are something I have always loved, but…” I closed my eyes, deep in thought. “Gardening, maybe?”
Luna’s eyes widened, and she leaned back in surprise. “Gardening?” she asked, her mouth shaped in a small ‘o.’ “I would have never thought. Why so?”
“Well,” I began, smiling. “Contrary to what I have told your aide, Miss Pad, I don’t simply pick herbs and roots out of mere necessity.” Luna tilted her head, eager to hear more. “I find gardening to be peaceful, relaxing – something to pass the time.”
“Yes, Lily did tell me that she had found you in the gardens, a couple of weeks ago,” Luna mentioned, the corners of her mouth crinkling. “How, exactly, did you find yourself with this particular hobby?”
I took a moment to stretch, leaning back on the palms of my hands. “Luna, you’ve noticed how large my sword is, yes?”
Luna frowned, a perturbed look about her, but she shook her head. “Yes, I have. I’ve always wondered how you lug that thing around.”
“It takes a fair bit of energy to swing that blade around,” I explained. “And, if you’ve seen the way we fight… we don’t pull our punches.”
The princess continued to look at me oddly, her cheeks the tiniest tinge of pink, but I ignored that oddity. “Indeed, I… Lily Pad showed me the damage you had done to one of the courtyards. But, Roland, what does this have to do with gardening?”
I chuckled, tracing an irregular shape in the air with a finger. “The Undead Legion liked to keep a store of herbs, flowers, roots – all sorts of plants and greens.” Luna nodded in understanding. “If prepared in the correct manner, plants and blossoms could provide a great boon to one’s stamina and ability.”
“I see,” Luna said, a thoughtful look about her. “Were you the one tasked with preparing such concoctions?”
I shrugged, giving a sideways grin. “Well, not exactly. The Acolytes were the ones who gathered and prepared our medicine,” I explained. “But I found a liking to it, myself. A certain affinity for gardening, and so I helped them when I could, as was my desire.”
Luna giggled, holding a hoof to her mouth. “To be quite frank, Roland, I cannot imagine somepony like you stooping in the dirt, pulling weeds from the earth.” She placed a hoof upon my hand, patting it lightly. “Though, I’m sure it wasn’t the cleanest of efforts.”
Oh, you wouldn’t believe,” I laughed, smirking. “Have I told you of the bug pellets?”
A brow raised, Luna looked confused. “Bug pellets?” she asked. “What… what would those be?”
“Balls of crushed insects,” I explained, holding up two fingers pinched together. Luna’s eyes widened, and she took an expression of disgust. “They provide great protection from the elements, and from unwanted magic.”
“And you would… eat these bugs?” Luna questioned, her face scrunching up. I simply nodded, a wry grin upon my lips. “I must say, that is… vile. Is it something humans normally do?"
I shook my head, chuckling. “No, not really – though, you’d be surprised how useful they are.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
We laughed together, Luna’s melodic voice harmonizing with my own baritone. For several moments, we sat there quietly, simply enjoying each other’s presence by the warm fire. Perhaps, in all honesty, it was nowhere near as warm, nor comforting, as a bonfire, but the princess made up for it – I was simply glad that we were making progress, and creating inroads in tending to our friendship.
Thoughts swirled in my mind, ideas and questions that I still bore for Luna. The nature of magic, perhaps, or how I could help her with her royal duties. Yet, perhaps such questions could be held for further – Luna still owed me a certain promise, for one, yet I did not wish to ruin our night. I do not remember our last discussion, after I had eavesdropped on Luna’s Night Court, having gone nicely.
“Luna?” I prodded her lightly, catching the princess’s attention. She turned to me, an inquisitive look about her.
“Yes, Roland?”
I sighed, before speaking. “You told me, the other day, that you wished to expand your circle of friends and confidants, yes?” I asked, gesturing with a hand. “Which was why you had invited Lady Rarity to the palace?”
Luna nodded, a brow raised. “Yes, that is true. Why?”
I crossed my legs, leaning an arm upon a knee. “I… I find Miss Pad, your aide, to be a friend. Possibly.” Pursing my lips, I shrugged. “She may it see it the same way, or she may not. But I think that, perhaps, she could be your friend as well. Shall we invite her to our next meeting?”
Luna did not respond for several moments, clearly pondering my suggestion. “We could. As my personal aide, I have spoken to her many times, but…” The princess shifted her posture. “Do you think she could be a friend?”
Nodding, I smiled. “I do. She is a nice woman – well, mare, rather. And, I hear that she is under a lot of pressure as of lately. Miss Pad could do with a break.”
“Then so it will be,” Luna agreed. “I shall invite her for next time, and we will have another friend!”
Smiling with glee, Luna clapped her hooves together. It was quite adorable.
“Now,” I began, relaxing myself. “Shall we end the night with a story?”
Luna’s eyes widened, and she nodded. “Of course. How else would we?”
The Tale of the Dragonslayers would do nicely, this night. A legacy of valor, adventure, and of sporting hunts.
