For the first time in several centuries, the Reaper felt the pitter-patter of rain on his back. Before, the water from the sky had simply passed straight through his ashen body. Now the raindrops stained his black cloak and wet his spread-out, skeletal wings. The water ran down the blade of his scythe and dripped onto the ground at the sharp tip. The rain felt good to him. It certainly was better than the freezing-cold snow that had fallen on him while in the mountains. But now, as an ocean fell on the dirt landscape, the Reaper turned his head to gaze at the mountains behind him, the white, snow-capped spires that covered the border between mainland Equestria and the Far North. There were paths and passageways between the mountain borders, a result of increased trade between ponies and the caribou of the North, but the Reaper had avoided the roads. He would rather prefer walking on the cold stone than the cobbled highways, and anyway, it wasn’t his body he was tiring out. His body had been reduced to ash, ash that flowed through the veins of his new body like blood. The newer body was far more supple (and corporeal) than his ashen cloud. It was comparable to a tank: an outer shell protecting the fragile occupants.

Now, as he walked on the road, two ponies climbed out of a booth. A toll stop. They wore the armor of a Canterlot Royal Guard, and carried long spears, which they pointed at the Reaper threateningly. The black alicorn sighed and rolled his eyes. There was one more thing about tanks that the Reaper could compare to. Not only did they protect their occupants, but they could return fire with great and terrible force. And so the Reaper unsheathed his massive scythe, holding it in his front hooves, and with a great swing unleashed a massive wave of shadow that blew back the two guards. They screamed as newly-inflicted Shadow Wounds formed on their skin, slowing growing larger and larger as the Reaper trotted past them. By the time the shadow had fully enveloped the two ponies, the Reaper was long gone. Their formerly bright eyes turned a dark shade of red as, suddenly and without warning, the two guards lost their corporeality and burst into two black puddles that stained the road.

The Reaper looked up as he walked, eying a distant mountain. The spire stood in the middle of a massive stretch of plains, and a huge forest stood nearby, surrounding the side of the mountain the Reaper could not see. A huge golden castle jutted out of the side, the massive fortress gleaming in the rain, emitting a bright light despite the lack of it all around. judging from eyesight alone, the Reaper guessed it was only a day’s walk away, and he continued to walk, the road in front of him long and winding, the grass and the dirt around him soaked with rain water.

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The black alicorn stepped onto the train platform. Surrounding him were ponies of all shapes and sizes, a blue one here, a green one there. Nopony noticed the Reaper, for he looked like just another pony, wearing a black cloak to protect himself from the rain. He had hidden his scythe, turning it to ash, and folded his skeletal wings under the cloak, pressed tightly against his body. All he appeared to be was a tall black unicorn, waiting for the seven ‘o clock train to Canterlot.

As the train arrived, the Reaper pushed into the carriage with all the other commuters, accidentally spilling a few drinks here and there and causing a few ponies to drop their donuts. A splash of coffee landed on his cloak but evaporated instantly upon contact. He did not even turn to acknowledge the apologizing mare as he pushed towards the front. He swept past the other commuters as his sickles materialized next to him, under his cloak. He pulled open the door at the end of the carriage and stared at the locomotive that was just about to pull out.

The conductor pulled the horn, signalling the train’s departure. Neither he nor the engineer noticed the tall black unicorn that stood only a few feet from them. Neither he nor the engineer noticed the unicorn pull out two wickedly sharp curved blades from under his cloak. And yes, they failed to notice anything as they lost their heads to the sickle’s viciously sharp edge.

The Reaper placed his head in the intercom system and began to speak.

“Attention all passengers. This is your conductor speaking. There has been a bomb threat at the next station. In accordance with policy, we will be bypassing that station and heading directly to Canterlot. I apologize for any... trouble... this has caused.”

He reached out then with his magic, and switched the train from the right track into the center one, and increased the speed of the locomotive. He pressed a button on the dashboard in front of him, and the signs on the sides of the train updated, stating that the train was an express transport. They wizzed past the next station, to the commuters’ surprise, as the crowds of ponies on the deck scratched their heads and raised their eyebrows.

The Reaper ignored the ponies as the train dashed onto the bridge connecting the plains with Canterlot. The train sped forward on the rickety wooden bridge, and the ancient mahogany creaked as the wheels roared over iron rails. On the other rail, a pink locomotive with strange-looking carriages (that looked like ice cream sundaes) passed by the speeding black commuter engine. The Reaper ignored the fact that the other train held a black alicorn mare with a billowing blue mane.

Yes, Luna was riding the Friendship Express, and she was scared. In her hooves she held a letter, written in an ugly scrawl and burnt. It was from Spike. The little dragon stood next to her, a bandage over his left shoulder and his right arm in a cast. Cuts and burns covered his back, but there was no sign of a Shadow Wound, unlike what the letter said. Luna was setting out to investigate, in the hopes that she would find her friends. Shining Armor stood next to her, his face stiff but his heart contorted with worry. Twilight was missing, and if what Spike said was true, she was also likely to be dead.

The Reaper guided the locomotive into Canterlot Station, but instead of pulling the brakes, he simply cast a spell on himself. His black body burst into a cloud of mist as he dove out of the locomotive, watching the black train speed on until it crashed into the buffer stop. It blasted through it and smashed out onto the platform behind it, running over a few ponies before it exploded. The Reaper collected himself before diving into the crowd, re-forming his corporeality and seamlessly blending in again as just another tall unicorn, surprised by the crash. He turned and left the station as guards rushed in, trying to pull out the commuters who, just a second before, had been fine and dandy.

The Reaper disintegrated his sickles back into ash, and re-absorbed them into himself. He began walking towards the castle at the edge of town, his black hooves silently clattering on the cobblestones as guards and ambulance carriages rushed past him towards the station. Overhead, a massive white airship with the red cross of an emergency transport floated by, carrying doctors and nurses to the crash site. Several carriages sped by with The Canterlot Sun painted on their sides, and one drove straight at the Reaper, the motor running full blast. The driver panicked and let go of the steering wheel, but the Reaper simply stared him down. As the news carriage was about to hit the Reaper, a fuel valve in its engine burst, the liquid sugar fuel spraying everywhere... and a spark from the exposed spark plug ignited it. The carriage exploded in front of the Reaper, sending a blast of heat over the black alicorn. It burned him, but just as quickly did the burns melt from his skin. Being bathed in black dragon’s fire has its benefits, such as being almost completely resistant to fire, except for the black variety. The explosion washed over the Reaper, who collapsed into a pile of ash and swept himself away. He reformed again in the growing crowd, and narrowly missed stepping on a baby pony as he materialized. He stared the baby’s cold, soulless eyes for a moment before taking a lollipop out of his cloak and tossing it to the infant. He returned to his march, another ambulance whizzing past him.

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At the gate of the castle, the two sentries asked the Reaper for identification. The Reaper responded by laying a hoof on their shoulders, and whispering. The two guards began to age uncontrollably, their young and smooth faces overtaken by the old, the wrinkled, and finally the ashen. The Reape sucked up their ashes, the dust entering his body to join the rest of the ash in his circulation. He laid another hoof on the castle gate, and it too dissolved into a fine grey powder. He stepped onto the cobblestone pathway, his black hooves making small dust clouds on the stones. He lowered his head, the ponies around him paying little to no attention to him. He used his magic to see beyond his eyes, and noticed the sniper ponies on the roof of the castle, two earth ponies wearing a strange, bulky contraption on their backs. Two more guards stood vigil at the actual castle door, and six guards were drilling in the courtyard. The Reaper bypassed the guards and walked around the castle, towards the ajar door of the kitchens. He walked inside, materializing a pot containing vegetables and strapping it to his back. The chefs didn’t even bat an eye as the Reaper strode through the kitchens, nearly getting knocked over by a maid. He did not turn his head, or even respond when the maid apologized. All he did was continue to walk. He left the pot of vegetables near the door to the grand hall, and started to make his way up the stairs. On the way he passed by a guard, who stopped him. The guard asked him for I.D, and the Reaper pulled out a bag of letters from under his cloak. After giving the guard two bits made from ash, the Reaper stepped fully up the stairs and opened the golden door at the top. The two guards there turned and asked for I.D. They both got a scythe to the face.

The Reaper stared at the white alicorn at the end of the long hallway, sitting on a throne. He unlatched the mailbag, which disintegrated into ash the moment it touched the floor. He held his huge scythe in his hoof, and, for the first time since exiting the cave, said something.

“Hello, dear sister.”

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Celestia was having a bad day. First, Twilight’s dragon familiar shows up at the castle burnt and injured, and demands the help of the Princesses to save his friend. Second, Luna insisted on going with him and Shining Armor, and Celestia had to agree. Thirdly, she had just received word that a commuter train crashed in Canterlot Station. She was just about to go and help when somepony opened the doors to her throne room and decapitated her guards. With a massive scythe.

Celestia gasped as the pony spoke to her.

“Hello, dear sister.”

The maids and butlers cowered under the tables as the black-cloaked pony cantered into the room, the huge scythe dragging behind him. He turned to stare at the door, and waved his hoof at it. The golden doors shut at once, slamming into the doorframe with a loud boom. The black pony swished his blade around a few times, spinning the long pole weapon before turning back to Celestia and opening his mouth again.

“What? Surprised to see your brother again? Or were you just scared? Did something frighten you? Maybe... maybe that train crash? I know that explosion was loud. Big explosions tend to scare little girls.”

“I am not a little girl.” said the Princess of the Sun. “And I don’t want to know what you’re doing here. You are a traitor to your people, and I put you down centuries ago. You should be banished to a form without essence!”

“Oh, my. I had forgotten just how...pushy... you were. Forgive me if I have figured out the combination to the door lock. I was bound to figure it out someday. Unlike you, I have been quite busy. Seeing as I don’t have a student to order around, I took the liberty of taking your jewelry and ... polishing... them.”

“You? You stole the Elements of Harmony?”

“Forgive me if my memory is not the brightest. I don’t remember what these necklaces were called back in my day. All I remember is that you locked me up with them, and now I have them. Oh, it seems you’re in a spot of bother, my dear sister. I have your Elements. If you want them back, you’re going to have to give me some sort of ...compensation.”

“I refuse to hand over anything to somepony who abused his power and his Marcherhood to rain death and destruction onto his own people! Hand over the Elements now and I will make sure you suffer an easy punishment.”

“Hahaha, I remember now. You were always this pushy. Right then, since you want the Elements so badly,” The Reaper materialized the chest out of ash. He opened it with his magic and floated the six corrupt Elements out. “Come get them.”

“W-what did you do to the Elements?!” shouted Celestia.

“Oh, you know. I was polishing them. Black dragon’s flame really does get all the stains out. But it also ...burns... the gold. My apologizes if they aren’t...what you expected.”

“You...how...how did?”

“What? Find black dragonfire? Oh, you shouldn’t have asked. See, its very simple.” The Reaper materialized a few long drapes out of ash and hung them over the windows blocking out the light. He raised his hoof, then brought it down onto the ground. The torches and candles that lit up the room went out simultaneously, leaving Celestia and the Reaper’s ambient light the only sources of light in the room. The Reaper clapped his hooves, and a projector and movie screen appeared out of thin air. He clapped his hooves again, and a horrifying image of a two-headed dragon breathing black flame appeared on the screen.

“This is Saaroklir. You remember Saaroklir, right? Big, ugly, yadda yadda. Anyhoo, Our mother, Candice, locked him up.” The picture transitioned to an image of the dark cave with the cobalt walkway. “As she did not possess the Blade of Harmony, nor did she ever find six Guardians to activate the Harmonic Singularity, she could not kill him. She sealed him away, and I found him. He offered me power, and I accepted. All because of a certain little sister hating her brother so much she ripped the flesh from his bones and ground his remains in ash. Ash, that now flows in the veins of my new body like blood. Ash, that will soon flow in yours, once my plan is complete.”

“What? Y-you want to steal my body?”

“Of course. I can’t just use this ratty patchwork jigsaw puzzle of a body, now can I? Especially if its made of little mares. Fragile things. I’m sure your white body would be mure more ...reliable... than the bodies of your faithful student and her five best friends.”

Celestia was appalled. Not only had the Reaper stolen the Elements, but he had also stolen the bodies of Twilight and her friends. And now he wanted to possess hers... for what purpose?

“Let them go!” she shouted. “Let them go or face the wrath of the sun!”

“Hahaha, what a nuisance. A stubborn little sister who simply wants her toys back from her big brother. And she’s threatening to punch her brother with her tiny little fist as if that’s going help her win. Haha. Pathetic.”

“No. I will not stand you here any longer. You are to leave now, either in one piece or as a roasted piece of seared flesh!”

Four crystals rose out of hidden chambers in the walls. Celestia willed them out, and the blue crystals complied, sparking with energy as they climbed out of their containers. Each crystal sparked with arcane lightning, arcing bolts of it between each other. Celestia focused her magical energy into her horn, producing a torrent of electrical energy that focused into a ball at the tip of her horn.

“Remember, Reaper, that Mother is on my side. She warned me about your return. She taught me her spell. And now I will finish you.”

The Reaper opened his eyes wide as golden bars rose out of the ground beneath him, trapping him in a prison of gold. Celestia lowered her horn at him, and, by releasing her concentration, fired the bolt of arcane lighting straight at the black alicorn.

The Chain Lighting energized the golden prison, then bounced into the crystals on the walls. The lightning arced across the room multiple times, growing in velocity until all four of the crystals were glowing a bright blue. The golden cage then suddenly disappeared, and four bolts of million-volt lighting cascaded into the Reaper.

Just before the lightning impacted his patchwork body, the Reaper disintegrated into dust. To any outside viewer, it would seem as it the Reaper was disintegrated by the lightning, and reduced to a pile of ash in the middle of the floor. At least, Celestia thought so. She ordered the maids to collect dustpans and brooms and to clean up the absolutely huge pile of ash that covered the center of the room. She turned her head to walk back up to her throne, and picked up a quill. As she turned around, she saw that the ash pile had promptly disappeared. She looked around expecting the butler to say something, but all she got as a response was the tight grip of eight thick tendrils of darkness.

The Reaper re-formed in front of the Princess. He did not say anything this time, only staring at her with cold, dark eyes. He spread his hooves, and called forth his twin sickles, the curved blades ringing as they extended. He stepped closer to his struggling sister, who tried and failed to free herself from the chains that wrapped around her legs, chest, and neck, keeping her head exposed. The Reaper then stood still, and collapsed into ash again, forming a ball of dust in the air. Slowly the ball turned as black as night, and then the humanoid Death Form of the Reaper burst out, spraying red-hot ash over Celestia and the ground around them. The hooded figure held his scythe out, and with careful precision cut open the Princess of the Sun’s right cheek as she whimpered in pain. He held out his empty hand, and summoned the black dragonflame, before casting away his massive scythe and pulling out a sickle. Using the smaller weapon, he slashed open her other cheek, ignoring her cries of pain and fear. He drew a finger along the cut, letting the blood leak onto his skeletal hand before rubbing the black flame on the sickle, the runes glowing bright red as he did so. Celestia watched as he finished igniting the blade, the black fire burning on the crescent. He held the sickle three inches from her neck, before suddenly raising it into the air and bringing the blade down on Celestia’s clean white forehead.

The Princess of the Sun screamed as a Shadow Wound formed on her head. She began to hyperventilate as the dark wound grew larger. The Reaper grabbed the cutting wound using his hands, ignoring Celestia’s screams and cries for mercy as he ripped open the wound, revealing the red flesh beneath. He turned himself to ash once more, his weapons clattering to the ground, and with a flash of darkness poured himself into the gaping wound in Celestia’s forehead. Her blood ran out of her mouth, the bright red liquid being forced out of her as the darkness took her over and blackened her white skin. Her lavender eyes became dark red, and lines of orange light cracked and broke her now dark skin. Her mane burst into red flame, and so did her hooves, lighting on fire as the Reaper drove the soul of Celestia out of her body and took it for himself. The soul tried to flee through the ceiling, but the Reaper, in Celestia’s body, glanced up at the translucent ghost, and with a mighty breath inhaled the Princess of the Sun’s spirit and sent her deep within his bowels.

Solar Flare laughed a deep, thrashing laugh as she picked up the Reaper’s weapons.