Yay, AN! At the top just to throw you, again. Anyways, this story will most likely be updated more frequently than Not So Different, mostly because I have an epic idea for the finale with Twil but no clue how to work up to there- yet. Also, this is an OC idea, so I'd rather finish this before a crossfic. Also, Magic uses your physical strength as a fuel, inspired by Eragon. If you've read it, good, if not, PM me for any addditional needed information. Anyway, same rules for pov/time changes as in not so different, please leave comment, ect. ect., blah blah blah. Thank's for reading!

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Silver Dawn looked on in dismay as his army was decimated by their current number-one target: Archmage Lightbringer of the First Celestial Army. Even from here he could see the savage cleft of a blood-spattered grin on the Unicorn's face. If we don't do something about him we're all dead stallions, Silver thought. He grabbed the shoulder of a passing mage, wearing the white and red tunic of a expert spellcaster. "You! I need you to find some way of stopping that bloody maniac. If we don't we'll lose this battle without even inflicting a single casualty upon yonder army. I'll get my engineers to fire the catapult and ballistae at him, and you tell the troops in the area to clear out of your way, but you're on your own from now on."

Silver expected the unicorn to object, but he merely saw a grey pallor on his face as he changed direction towards Lightbringer as if walking to the gallows. Good Luck, he thought, and prayed to the Elder God for the unicorn that he had just sent on what he knew they both thought was suicide. A sudden sadness came over him. I sent you to die and I don't even know your name. This was, of course, ridiculous. He was a general- thousands had died for him over the course of his life. But he still felt compelled to indulge his desires just once. He ran after the unicorn, who still carried on with his weary, yet purposed stride towards the thick of the battle. " I'm sorry. I didn't catch your name earlier?"

The wizard turned back to him briefly. "I am called Roseheart." It was a fitting name- his hair was primarily a light leaf-green, and the tips were the pink of cherry blossoms.

"That's a good name." Silver Dawn said gruffly. "I just want to tell you... I'm sorry."

A ghost of a smile briefly flitted over Roseheart's face, and he turned back towards his destination, with rather more energy in his movements. Then Silver himself walked in the opposite direction, where their engines of war stood perched on a hill. It took him a while, but he eventually convinced the Reindeer he had appointed seige master that his plan would work. The difficulty of this task was exacerbated by the fact that he himself was not sure of the plan, but so be it.

Then he stayed on the hill and watched the greatest magician's duel of his life unfold.

Roseheart had regarded it as a death sentence when general Silver Dawn had given him the order to face an Archmage, especially one as notorious as Lightbringer, in combat. But he was determined to defeat his foe, no matter if the cost be death- or worse. He arrived on the edge of the devastation, watching as his allies were murdered by the dozen. I have to stop him, he thought, before more lives are lost. And then he knew what to do.

"Lightbringer!" He screamed. "I am the champion of general Silver Dawn, and I challenge thee to a magician's duel! Defeat me, and our army will crumble. But if I best you, the fate shall befall your army, and your honor. Do you have the nerve to face my challenge like a stallion?" Everypony, and some others, stiffened with shock at his words. Then Lightbringer's cruel smile widened, and he laughed, a low guttural noise.

"I will face you, champion," He said derisively. But speak your name, so I may know the name of the pony I have killed.

"I am Roseheart." Then, in a softer voice, he spoke that only his allies could hear, "Stand back. Give us room." He saw Lightbringer muttering what Roseheart was sure was much the same order to his own soldiers. He tugged off his right guantlet off his front hoof, and flung it across the field to where Lightbringer stood. It hit him squarely on the cheek, in the ancient challenge to trial by forelegs. Lightbringer's face flushed with anger, then returned to normal as he realized the significance of the action- and that he was now in a fight for his life.

"Let the games begin, pink-hair!" And he shot a bolt of pure energy at Roseheart. He deflected it easily, much to his surprise. He had never been in a magician's duel before, and now that he was, he found he was rather good at it. Then he fired a return volley of blazing fire, which Lightbringer countered with a veil of mist. Then, out of the corner oh his eye, he saw spears, massive bolts from ballistae, rocks, arrows, every kind of projectile imaginable, arc towards Lightbringer. Yes! He crowed silently to himself. Now we have him! To his horror, each and every one vanished in a puff of gold smoke. Lightbringer's face contorted, and he shouted, "Have you no honor, pink-hair?" Cries of fury from Lightbringer's gold-clad army rose, and the next moment Roseheart was dodging thrown weapons, arrows- but to his releif, the seige weapons in the Celestial Army seemed to take too long to be fired at him. Where is he getting all his power from? Roseheart wondered frantically, still dodging or deflecting flights of arrows. A gleam of something black caught his eye. On Lightbringer's gold armor he saw a tiny black stone- onyx, one of the best gems for storing energy- set into the left side of his equip.

"If I can dislodge that gem, then maybe he'll be weakened enough to fight normally." Roseheart muttered. He fired four rapid explosions, none of which touched Lightbringer, but came close enough to rattle the Onyx in whatever secured it. It also drained a significant portion of his vitality, but for the moment, he had no reason to fear being too weak to cast spells. Then he fired one much larger explosion at Lightbringer, and to his great triumph the gem shattered from the shockwave. He could hear Lightbringer utter a cry of dismay, fear and anger, and he fired his own explosion at Roseheart.

Rather than blocking or deflecting it, which would expend too much energy, and the bolt was traveling too fast to dodge, he cast a quick spell to deflect it. The hex glanced off of his ward and flew off into the distance. Suddenly Roseheart had a flashback to a lesson he had been taught by his mentor.

"Lighting always takes the closest path to the ground- the path of least resistance. Many armor materials are prone to channeling its energy, such as gold and steel. Also, most living creatures channel it efficently as well." And suddenly he knew how he could win. Gathering up almost all of his remaining energy from his body, he formed a massive thunderbolt in the air, hundereds of meteres above the archmage's head. The air crackled with the energy of the spell, and Lightbringer realised what he was doing. Shouting, Lightbringer's horn grew crimson as he cast his own spell at Roseheart. "Thus I curse you, Pink-hair, champion of Silver Dawn!" He screamed as Roseheart released the lightning. He only had time to see Lightbringer's body pulse with a blue-white light before the spell hit him. He could not even move, he was too weak to block or deflect it.

He could hear the Elder Army cheering and the First Celestial Army groaning, but it was as if from a long way away. Nothing seemed to be wrong with him, but he knew that it was unlikely that a direct hit from a spell would ever leave you uncathed. It was worrying, far more so than if the spell had just killed him instantly. Then he realized he was bleeding.Where did I get cut? He wondered, and wiped off the red stain. And then he realized...

He wasn't cut. Anywhere. Not on his entire body. But when he looked upon himself, he could see blood raining off of him like a summer deluge. He was unable to move- it hurt, it hurt far more than any pain he had ever experienced before, and he could not even scream his agony to the world. Petrified, he stood, watching his legs shrivel down to the bone, then his chest, it seemed as if the spell was destroying his vital organs last, and then he felt it as his eyes shriveled as the water and blood was drained from them, too. And finally, he started to lose perception of pain in blessed relief.

But then he realized that the releif he gained was only the releif of an eternal sleep in a mausoleum. His entire existance rebelled, fought, against the idea of death, and he cast a spell, a forbidden, ancient spell that was far older than the conflict between the four gods. And then- sleep.