Meanwhile, from Kherrie's perspective, the ruins of Cloudsdale...

He's gone... I can't believe it...

Malideus is actually gone.

I don't believe it. I blink a few times, but he doesn't reappear, despite my tenacity. Malideus... is gone. I collapse to my knees, on the verge of tears.

"He's... gone..." I mutter, not fully accepting the fact. I know Xenia and Stargazer are behind me, and I know they want to comfort me, but they can't.

No one can.

I don't notice as Stargazer walks up to me, seeing as I'm focused a bit elsewhere at the moment, but he does, and he doesn't seem any happier than me about this.

"Kherrie, we need to return to the base. We can mourn later, but we need to move, before Celestia finds out we're here and destroys us!" Stargazer says, reaching for my shoulder, but I shift away, and get up, moving for the hole where Mal fell.

"We can still save him... We have to!" I say, walking forward, but Stargazer walks up and stops me, turning me around to face him.

"Kherrie, listen to yourself! Malideus is gone, and there's no way we can find him right now! If we're going to find what's left of him, we need a wider search force! I know you want to save him, but we can't right now!" Stargazer says, and I almost destroy him out of sheer anger, but Xenia chimes in, interrupting me:

"He's right, Kherrie. We can alert the devils, and we can get help, but we can't do that here. C'mon... let's go tell Mizzietta." Xenia says, and I reluctantly nod, tears filling my eyes, and I turn to look where Malideus once stood, sorrow and anger filling my chest. Why did he have to do that? We could've taken Maul, and he could have stayed out, been safe, while we did all his work... But he got up anyway, fought Kragda-Maul on his own damned accord... And for what?! What did he have to gain from that?! Why did Malideus have to sacrifice himself for a sorry excuse of a deity like me? Worse yet... why didn't I save him? I could have done that... but I hesitated. Now... he's gone.

I can't stand it... but I eventually let it go, and turn, albeit reluctantly, to follow the other two, as we make our way back to the cave from cloudsdale, and this time, not even the smell of glorious decay from all our kills can cheer me up as we leave the crumbling factory to its fate, and as we begin our descent to the forest. Along the way toward Mizzy's cave, thoughts boil over in my mind, all about what happened. Maul was dead, or, at least, stalled for a few thousand years, and that alone was a great burden lifted from me. Now, I had no restrictions as to what I could do... but at what cost? Mal sacrificed himself to ensure my continuation... no one ever did that for me... no one but my precious, loving plants... Why would Mal? Ugh, Mortals are so confusing, with their plots and emotions. You'd think that such short-lived beings would be more focused on their own well-being, but Malideus... he just kept surprising me, always putting others before him, despite his claims to his evil nature.

"I just don't get it..." I mutter as I stand outside Mizzy's cave, where the other two are explaing what happened to Mizzy. She said something about 'consulting uncle Bolas', but I don't know who that is. I try to rack my brain harder as to why Malideus was so different, and why I had these... feelings... for him, but I hear heavy, thunderous footsteps behind me, and I look behind me, to see... Hezafen? That's unexpected. Even more so, is what he says next:

"Goddess Kherrie, You seem... distressed. Please, elaborate what troubles you." Hezafen says, his voice deep and mechanical, and I can't help but feel better at his awkward attempt to help me. I mean, come on, a golem, with emotions? That's just unheard of.

"Oh, hey, Hezafen. What are you doing out here? Aren't you going to talk with Mizzy's uncle with everyone else?" I ask, raising a brow at him accusingly.

"Previous query avoided. Repeat: Please, elaborate what troubles you." Hezafen says, and I sigh, seeing no way around his determination to help me. I guess, in the end, a robot is a robot, no matter how it acts, or what it does. Still, it feels nice that someone would at least try to care, so I talk to the mirror golem.

"It's nothing, Hezafen... Just confused, that's all." I say, looking forward again, and sighing. Hezafen cocks his head to the side, in a gesture of curiosity, and then presses on:

"Would this be because of Master Malideus?" Hezafen asks, and I sigh harder, knowing he would draw that conclusion, and I answer him, still facing forward:

"Yeah. It's Malideus." I say solemnly. Hezafen then seems to activate something in his head, and he looks right at me, his bright, blue, light-like eyes seeming to pierce me, which I don't like. I got enough mind-reading from my dad, thank you, I don't need it from a walking pile of hyper-reflective hard glass. Finally, Hezafen speaks:

"Your frustration seems to derive from your inability to understand mortal-organic psychological machinations. In this light, I now understand you emotions, and now shall advise accordingly." Hezafen says, and, honestly, I don't catch a word of that... gibberish. Something about metal origami psuedo-lithical manifestations, and acting accordions, I guess?

"Uh, could I have a Hezafen-to-Kherrie translation?" I ask, and Hezafen makes a groaning noise as his eye-lights dim, which I guess is his way of sighing. Then, he starts talking again:

" You are upset as a result of you being unable to understand mortals. Now that I understand this, I will give you, as you say, some advice on how to 'deal with it', as it were." Hezafen says, with a hint of frustration in his voice. I don't think he likes speaking normally.

"Oh." I say, understanding now, and feeling kind of dumb for not knowing that in the first place.

"Yes. It seems that, despite your failings, You maintain hope that he yet lives. That is good: You are right to believe in his survival, and it would only seem logical that he has, indeed, survived. Malideus has survived far worse, from what I have gathered, and therefor a complex, but fulfilling, equation comes to light: With no proof of his death or survival, and no way to observe his being at present time, there are equal chances that he has either perished or survived. A simple philosophy, like putting a cat in a box with poison within for three days: It may be dead, but there is a just-as-great chance that it lives, as long as it remains unobserved." once again, he's lost me with his damned big words.

"Umm... normal-speak, please?" I ask, and Hezafen groans again, and repeats himself:

"Because we cannot observe him, we do not officially know if he's dead or alive. So, due to simple mathematics and probability count, I can safely say that there is just a great chance that he lives as that he dies. In short, he has a 50% chance of having survived the fall... wherever he is." Hezafen says, narrowing it down for me.

"So... what you're saying is that I shouldn't worry?" I ask.

"Yes. I believe that, given Malideus's track record, I believe he has very good odds toward his continued existence: Estimated: 56%." Hezafen says, in his usual deep, flat voice. Oddly enough, those odds make me a bit happier. Plus, he's right. We didn't see Malideus die, so there's still a chance he lives! This is great news, if I ever heard any.

"Oh... well... Thanks, Hezafen. That makes me feel a little better... I guess." I say, still confused as to the point he's trying to make. But, hey, if the all-knowing robot says I shouldn't worry, then I won't. I know Malideus survived... I can feel it. And if he is, Surely Nicol Bolas will know for sure. But now, all I can do is wait, until the verdict is called.

"It is no trouble. Like I said, 50% is still a large number. However, the only thing we can do to prove this is to wait for Nicol Bolas's answer. I assure you, though, he is most likely fine. Try to remember this." Hezafen says, lightening my mood greatly as he stomps away. Yeah, if the walking calculator says he has a good chance, surely Bolas can say the same. Still, 50% is a big number... especially the OTHER 50%. Now, even with math and junk, Mal's fate still has yet to be decided by one true god.

Oh, lord Bolas, please let Mal be safe...

... And, back to Malideus...

... Trees. Trees. More trees. What appears to be an owl. I list the things I see in my head as me and my unfortunate choice of company head deeper into the dead forest place, whatever this place is called, as I completely ignore their attempts of making small talk with me. Still, they infuriatingly continue this, sans Kinua, and It's really grating my patience into fine Parmesan cheese powder. Did I mention that I also hate cheese?

"So, where did you say you come from, again?" Whinn asks me, snapping me out of my mental tangent.

"I didn't." I growl, and then Dinn takes a turn:

"Can you tell us?"

"No." I say sourly, killing the potential conversation before it was born... like an abortion. Ew, what is wrong with me that I would think of that?! I think this forest is getting to me.

"Why not? Why so serious?" Dinn asks, making me clutch my head in an effort to keep it intact. Dammit, I thought I killed this conversation!

"I don't want to talk about it." I reply simply, feeling my blood pressure rise gradually. Please, for the love of god, stop talking!!! This place is driving me nuts!

"I don't know... I kind of like it. So dark and cozy." My inner voice says, sounding a bit darker than usual.

"Dude, are you okay? I thought you hated dangerous situations like this?" I mentally ask, stopping as I think.

"Of course I am... never been better. And this isn't dangerous. Not yet." My inner voice says ominously. Okay, I know this is weird. First off, my inner voice hates bad ideas, and this place is one giant, tangible bad idea. Two, my inner voice is whiny and disagrees with everything. What ever this mindfuckery was, I don't like it. But I have to be quiet: My inner voice has a nasty tendency to eavesdrop... if this was even him.

"Hey, Malideus, are you okay? You're just standing there and staring off." Whinn says, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"Uh? Yeah, fine. Please, let's just keep walking, it's getting dark, and I will NOT be here when night hits." I say, shaking my head. However, as we begin to walk, the area brightens slightly as we quickly enter a part of the trail where the trees thin out a little. I then see the cloudy sky, but the sky is not what catches my attention. The most beautiful scene I can imagine, however, now lays before me, causing me and the pooka to stop to look. What I see... it's so breathtaking, it almost makes me forget I'm surrounded by the undead, and I stop, if only briefly, to take it all in: The sky is a bright, gold color, and clouds lay low around the horizon. Behind them is the setting sun, which is lowering quite quickly, probably due to the princesses. Still, It's magnificent enough to praise, with it's golden beams peeking through cracks in the clouds, showering all with its light. A brilliant body, before which no shadow can hide, displayed so perfectly... why, it almost brings a tear to my eye. If only Solaire could see this...

"... Wow. That's just pretty..." I mutter, staring in disbelief at the scene in the sky. I soon break eye contact with it, though, to see if the pooka are seeing this. They have, and they're staring at the sun right now. However, there is no admiration in their eyes... only contempt. But who can blame them? The princesses control the glorious star, and such a display can only bring bad thoughts for these creatures of the darkness. Finally, as if straining to break the awkward silence that has fallen, Kinua speaks:

"...You call it pretty... Why praise such a foul thing?" She says simply, her face remaining bored-looking, but her voice conveying an aura of pure hatred. Still, I feel I have to answer, because... well, I guess I just like arguing. Plus, I have to make the reference. It would be unpatriotic not to.

"Well... Look at it! Such a wondrous body... like a magnificent father." I begin, staring at the scene the sun has made, and the three pooka turn and look at me like I'm on drugs.

"You would say that about the tool of the PRINCESSES!? What is wrong with you?!" Whinn asks, glaring at me confusedly. However, I do not turn to them, but continue to look at the radiant sun.

"Nothing, girl. The sun is no tool: just a king, run hollow. A radiant sun, controlled by the feeble hands of children not fit for its throne. Why would I hold contempt for something to be loved and admired, just because my enemy uses it as a clever deceit?" I rant, and I see the three's faces soften, as understanding sweeps across them. They may be creatures of the night, but even they can see why I say this. And, believe it or not, I'm not lying. I've always, surprisingly enough, been a day person. Yeah, weird, people think that all overlords should bring about eternal nigh, or blot out the sun, or something. But you know what? That just hurt me just as much as it would hurt the ponies. I love the sun. The sun, to me, is the greatest thing ever, and this sight, as it begins its forced retreat into the horizon, just makes me want to talk about it.

"The sun is no mere tool, Whinn... It is a beacon, a sign that the true lords have not left this world behind... If only I could be so grossly incandescent." I finish, and the three stare at me for a while, then back to the sun, which is pretty close to setting. Now, they no longer radiate contempt, though. Now, they look upon the sun in a new light, pun partially intended.

"... You really like the sun, don't you, Malideus?" Dinn asks, looking back to me.

"I suppose. It's as I always say: 'Hate the master, not the servant'. The sun is a glorious, pure thing. It just needs to be freed... and that's what I hope to do one day. I will defeat Celestia, and I will make all as it should be: No excessive rainbows, no over-populous little, furry woodland creatures, and no one smiles without earning it. Hear me now, and hear me well, pooka: the sun will rise on my empire, one day..." I pause, taking a quiet breath, and then I finish. " ...And it will not set until IT decides to." I finally growl, glaring as the sun finally descends behind the horizon, forced down by the hands of the bastard-princess, and shrouding the land in loathsome darkness. But, despite this, I still feel the sun's warmth, and I sigh, before walking forward. This break was nice, but I have a quest to complete. Necromancer or no, I just want to get out of this depressing place so I can fight Celestia, and make her eat dirt. It seems that the three pooka sense my eagerness to go, and they quickly move forward, guiding me through the forest once more.

I trudge through the murky forest, after the three pooka, but at least I'm in a better mood. Why? I don't know. But I don't feel like tearing Kinua a new asshole, so that's something. So, here I am, walking through the forest at night, which I hate, but I spent the remaining daylight on a stupid rant. God, sometimes, I feel like I'm in a generic fanfiction. I mean, it's got everything: Loser gets sent somewhere, gets powerful, and gets tons of chicks. Yes, I have less than the average hero, but that's because I'm a VILLAIN. I have to keep the lovin' to a minimum, lest I go soft. God knows I can't afford to go soft now.

"Gott mit uns..." I mutter, catching the attention of the three pooka, who turn to me out of (i assume) curiosity.

"What was that, Malideus?" Whinn asks. I don't like that question, and I REALLY don't like explaining shit to dumb bitches, but I see no harm in it, so, why not? I'll bite.

"It means 'God is with us' in... one of my world's languages." I say, holding back on the name of the language, lest I get sucked into another dumb conversation. However, unfortunately, this strikes up curiosity with Whinn and Dinn, and they soon barrage me with dumb questions about my world, which I'm forced to answer:

"You're from outer space?!" Dinn asks,and before I can answer her, Whinn starts up.

"So, what's it like on your world?" She asks.

"Do you have countries, too?" asks Dinn.

"Do you have a sun there?"

"How many moons does it have?"

"What do your people look like?"

"Do you all wear that attire?"

"Are you all evil?" The questions pile on, each empty-headed sister piling one more onto the other's before I can answer the first one. Finally, after enduring such agony, I have had enough, and I snap.

"ENOUGH!!!" I shout, shutting the two up. Then, I inhale, regain my composure, and, seeing nothing else to do, I answer their questions as simply as possible:

"Kind of, horrible, yes, yes, one, boring, and no." I answer quickly, trying to avoid any and all explanation to my... personal matters. However, the two seem even more confused by this, and try to ask more questions, but a stern look from Kinua convinces them otherwise, to my infinite relief. Then, she speaks, in that same, bored tone, like she just got over the loss of all the fucks she could have given.

"We're here." Kinua says flatly, and we all finally reach a massive clearing of sorts, where the sky is perfectly visible, and the moonlight is radiating, unhindered, toward the forest floor, onto a massive, ancient-looking oak.

"Hmm... Nice place." I say, looking around for any signs of the undead. Yes, I still remember, and I still don't want to meet any. But... I don't see any... just this tree.

"So... where's the 'living lich'? Where's Wrathborne?" I ask, looking around, trying to avoid the oak, lest it actually be a sylvan, or a whomping willow.

"He's in the tree." Kinua says flatly, still giving absolutely zero fucks, and the other two nod in agreement, looking at the oak expectantly.

"Oh..." I say. Well, I guess they weren't kidding about his condition; he really IS a vegetable.

"Yes. The princesses tried to kill him long ago, but they couldn't. So they cursed him into a deep slumber, and grew this oak around him, in order to stop him." Whinn explains, walking up to the tree, and placing a hand on it. Okay, I see where this is going.

"And let me guess; you want ME to free him, because none of you can burn it down by yourselves?" I ask sarcastically, and Whinn turns to me, a serious expression on her face.

"We can't burn it! Fire won't hurt it, ice won't kill it, and no weapon can pierce it. In short, we can't destroy it... but YOU can!" Whinn says happily, jabbing a finger into my chest, which I move away with extreme prejudice.

"Fine... just don't touch me again." I say, and I walk up to the tree, away from the three nuisances. It seems ordinary enough, just a common oak, giant and firm. Still, I feel an odd presence within, powerful, but not necessarily evil. A necromancer, huh? I doubt it, probably just another hero, likely to kill me after I free him... But if he's so good, why did the princesses curse him?... Hmm. Well, I guess I could at least see. After all: nothing ventured, nothing gained.

"Alright, you three... you may want to stand back." I say, readying my bladed staff, as if about to swing it into the oak. The three look at me, however, with confused expressions.

"Why? Are you going to chop it?" Dinn asks innocently.

"We just said no weapon could harm it!" Whinn cries, holding her head. In response, I just bring my staff higher, and smile wickedly, not that they could see, but I'm pretty sure they felt its maliciousness, because they all stand back, unnerved looks upon their faces.

"Yeah, you did... but magic isn't a weapon." I growl, pointing my staff at the tree in question. Oh, yes, it's been too long since I've destroyed something helpless. This... was gonna be fun...

Author's Notes:

Sorry this sucky chapter took so long. Next one will be better, I evil promise.

Later, heathens.