The stillness within a secluded cottage was all encompassing. It had been still for many months now, except for an occasional visitor. Inside however, something was finally beginning to stir. A black heap of cloth shuffled softly, followed by a muffled groan. The form beneath it struggled to get to its hooves, desperately trying to find traction in the darkness hiding the ground. Eventually, it managed the task and pulled itself out from beneath its cloak, though it remained tied around the neck. With a shake of the head, the newly awake stallion tried to clear his mind.

As he did so, a sudden realization seemed to spark within the lobes of his brain, born of two questions. First, a minor one, of wondering how long it had been since his collapse, more out of some base instinct than conscious thought. And secondly, how he was alive. With disbelief enshrouding an epiphany, he turned to the nearest window and looked out into the world.

He was greeted with the sight of light and joy, birds chirping, everything a show of happiness. When he saw this, the pony cursed angrily. “The spell should have worked! Why didn’t it work?” He pressed his face against the glass, as if the harmonious world outside was merely a trick of distorted light. The outside, however, didn’t change, and a burning rage grew brighter inside him.

He moved to towards his spell book, to check it and make sure there had been no mistake, but his path was blocked. A biped sat calmly on a chair and gazed back at him, unspeaking. Instead of fear, the stallion had naught but anger to give, and lashed out verbally against the monster in his way, suspecting the truth with what little evidence he’d been given.

“You did this, didn’t you!? Why would you betray me!”

“I didn’t betray you. You summoned me so I could help you with your spell. And you bound me in blood and curse. You know as well as I do that I was bound to your goal from the minute I came here. In fact, I’ve sent a few ponies to the afterlife while you’ve been gone, and unfortunately, that means the binding is up.”

“Ha! You think you can tell me when to end the spell? You’re my servant until I say otherwise. I thought you were working with me of your own volition, so I gave you some slack, but now that I know your true intention, I can easily just stash you away and do the spell again. You taught me how, after all.” The stallion brushed past the biped and continued towards his spell book. “Now, be a good little summon and go to your corner.”

A chill shot through the stallion’s spine as he said those words. When he turned to look at the biped again, he was beginning a slow approach. “No, you don’t seem to get it. A binding of blood lasts until the terms of the contract are fulfilled. Your contract stated only two things. First, that I help you cast your spell, and secondly, that I send ponies to the afterlife. I have done the first, as you vouch for in your magical signature alone, and I have done the second, as those in the afterlife can affirm in the arrival of lost souls who found their way home under my guidance.”

The biped continued his approach, and the stallion looked around fearfully. But when he found what he was looking for, his mind near gave up. The contract in question rested nearby on the table, easily within reach. However, it was also on fire, and the stallion knew that neither he nor the biped had cast the fire spell on it. “You played with fire, you fool. And unfortunately, the fire doesn’t agree with how you’ve been running things.”

Celestia was in the middle of a meeting. She’d deigned to visit with an ecologist from Ponyville in the Canterlot Library to find out how the current balance with the Everfree fared. Or rather, that’s what everyone else thought she was doing. In all honesty, she was meeting with a ‘friend’ to ask how her new life was treating her, and much to Celestia’s surprise, it seemed to be going rather well by all accounts.

Chrysalis informed her that while Discord could get rather out of hand at times, he was, by and large, not making her want to strangle him too much, which Celestia decided was as good an outcome as she could’ve hoped for. She also stated that there was an event, caused by a mutual… associate… of theirs, wherein two ponies had asked her to help them integrate into Ponyville. He had neglected to tell her anything about said ponies, but she had taken his word that they wouldn’t cause trouble on good faith.

Overall, Chrysalis had no major gripes about her current living conditions, seemingly still humbled enough by the prior events to expect anywhere near as much attention as she had had before. Celestia hoped it would remain that way and Chrysalis had truly changed, but she also made a mental reminder to check on her again, perhaps at much less persistent times.

She was in the middle of conversation with Chrysalis when something caught her eye: a movement at the edge of her vision. Ever careful, especially without her sister or guards, Celestia glanced back to Chrysalis once again and moved her hoof over her mouth. She made a cautious approach towards where she had seen the movement, Chrysalis following after silently and carefully with her horn glowing green and ready to shed her disguise and handicap if need be.

When Celestia peeked around a corner, she spotted the cause of the movement and was only slightly surprised and amused at who she saw. She moved closer, and as Chrysalis rounded the corner, she did a similar act and let the magic die from her horn. As they approached, however, the man didn’t break his view from the book, seemingly completely enraptured by it.

Celestia was about to greet him, only to realize she didn’t have a name to call him by. “It’s odd, I think, that despite all you’ve done for us, you haven’t given us a name to call you by,” she said to him, smiling and moving the chairs from a few shelves over to their present location so they could sit. Alicorn and changeling took their seat, but the biped remained standing, empty seat mere inches in front of him.

“I’ll be completely honest with you, Celestia. I don’t like it here.” He turned the pages. “I don’t like it at all.”

“You mean the library?” Chrysalis started. “I suppose it is rather crowded—”

“No. Not the library. The world. All of it. I don’t like it. I want to go home.” He flipped more pages, thumbing through them more often than reading them. “But that two bit necromancer didn’t set up a return path. You know, like any sane person would do. Oh no, that’d be too much. Can you imagine? A way to get rid of summons in case they get troublesome? Who’d ever set one of those up. That’d be silly.”

Chrysalis and Celestia shared a confused glance, not quite sure what he was talking about, then looked back to the man, unsure what to say. He slammed the book shut and tucked it into a burlap sack that was hanging over his shoulder, placing it among friends, it seemed, given the brief glance of paper and covers that the two rulers received.. “Not important, sorry. I’ll find a way home eventually. There’s still more things to take care of, anyway.” He took four necklaces from his pocket and held them out to Celestia, nodding at them once and waiting until she took them from his grasp,

As she took them and moved them closer, she was able to see the details on them more clearly, including the tarnished bronze that composed the thin majority of the necklace as well as the black stone that hung in the middle. She looked to the Necromancer for further instruction, but having to wait until he was done shifting the weight of the books on his back.

“Two for you and your sister, one for Chrysalis, one for Discord,” he said simply.

Celestia looked into the small black stone and felt some kind of ominous force deep within it. She carefully held it as she examined it, and the tingling that ran down her spine did nothing to ease her mind. “What is it?” She asked, caution in her anxious tone.

“I have imbued these stones with the magical essence of necromancy and similar magics, no actual spell, just the magical signature that similar spells would give off. I want you to become as familiar with it as you are with an old friend. Learn to pick it out in a crowd. If-” He stopped himself, shook his head, then continued. “When I leave, I don’t want all my work to go to waste. If you detect something similar to it, I want you to investigate it immediately, understand? It doesn’t take much death magic to cause a lot of problems.”

There was a moment of silence before Celestia nodded to him, understanding his intent. On queue, he began speaking again. “Good. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go do some reading, and you two probably want to finish your meeting. You’ll get these books back in a week, maximum, I promise.” His words seemed hurried and panicked, but Celestia decided she couldn’t quite blame him for that. She watched as he left, and she let him leave without a word.

“He didn’t give us a name,” Chrysalis said, glancing at Celestia and wondering if she had fully grasped what that implied.

Celestia frowned. “No… he didn’t…but I’m glad he’s on our side. Whoever he is.”

There’s a kind of power in names, in a way. But there’s also a handicap. A name will bind your magic in a strange way. It’ll limit you, restrict you. When someone says your name, says it with a kind of joy or happiness, it’s not as strong as it was before. It’s shared. Because when a your name is spoken by those who truly care. They aren’t speaking to your blood and bone, they’re speaking to your soul. That’s why love and friendship can cause such magical feats when done by multiple ponies. But, when no one knows your name, or when no one says it with joy… well... you keep all of it. You keep your magic, and you lose your friends.