Chapter 22: Pendragon

Mac couldn't even growl as Blackheart strode before him, still in his full demonic form, frost trailing down his body and freezing the ground beneath him. The blades of dark power impaled Mac, holding him in the air, blood trickling down each edge. Blackheart flicked back and forth, enjoying every moment of this, savoring the look of pain upon Macintosh’s face. Mac’s body was locked in place, but for the merest tortured shudder the agony washing over him was intolerable. Though his mind was ablaze with questions.

How could Blackheart could still be standing there?

“Look at the mongrel go,” Blackheart chided, dipping down onto one knee to be on the same level as Mac. “You are like a dog looking for the ball that its master never threw. Absolutely adorable,” Blackheart simpered, laughter bubbling up in his words as he flicked Mac on the nose. Cartilage snapped under the minor effort, a simple annoyance compared to the pain Mac was already enduring.

Blood ran freely from his nose and mouth, the blade within his throat cutting off air and the ability to speak. He was tethered to this plane by Ghost Rider’s magic, but even then it couldn't suppress the pain coursing through Mac. He tried to speak, but his words were only a garbled mess of sounds as more blood bubbled from his mouth, his vocal cords scraping against the dark blade. Blackheart just laughed at the struggle as he raised one claw up, an aura of darkness around it.

The blade pulled out of Mac’s throat in a slow drag of absolute torment. Blackheart made sure to tease and wiggle the blade, tearing anew into flesh. Glossy red ribbons spurted out of the wound, having hit an artery and tore at a vein like the cruel and malicious child Blackheart was. Once the blade was wrenched clear from Mac’s flesh, orange flames appeared along the wound, his inner demon putting Mac back together. Even though the flames were to heal him, they still hurt, but it was pain Mac had grown used to over the years and it was nothing more than an inconvenience at this point.

“Is that better, pup?” Blackheart asked, cocking his head and leering at Mac, teeth glowing at the reality of having Ghost Rider strung up the way he did, of inflicting more pain onto him than any other of Rider’s enemies.

“H- how…” Mac’s voice was raspy, vocal cords healing as pain shot through his entire body, chasing the path of another dark blade through his chest. Icy fire scorched each wound, as every breath he drew helped the blades cup deeper into him.

“How what?” Blackheart asked, watching Macintosh struggle, intoxicated on the pain he was causing him. “How did I not burn in the sunlight? How did my magic stay in contact? How I have won?” Mac was sure if Blackheart had lips he would have a maniac’s smile plastered there, striking the final nail into the coffin. “Why, it's all thanks to you and that rabid mongrel of an attack dog my father has put inside of you,” Blackheart said, flicking and breaking Mac’s nose again.

Mac merely grunted, the golden eyes of Wild Blaze fixed on Blackheart with burning hatred. In the far recesses of Mac’s mind, he could feel Ghost Rider trying to show his own anger and hurl his own questions at Blackheart being there, but he was just too weak. The battle had drained him. Taking direct sunlight had hurt him, cutting off his magical power abruptly and painfully. He was, after all, a creature of darkness and had taken a full burst of sunlight, something that demons didn’t take well. Mac struggled to move, to free himself somehow, but the blades kept cutting deeper into his entrails, and all Mac had the strength to do was gasp.

“Wh… what do… you…” Mac tried to talk, but drawing in breath was too much of an effort, and the pain kept piling on with no end in sight.

“A good plan is not formed in a night, dog,” Blackheart said, red eyes focused on him. “It takes years of planning, building of power and resources, and ensuring that the necessary players were ready,” he said, watching each painful breath Mac drew, pleasure radiating off his vile aura at Mac’s expense. “Why, the Spirit of Vengeance was the key to making this all happen, and I have you to thank for that, Macintosh Apple,” Blackheart purred, flicking Mac’s nose the instant it had healed again.

“What did ya call him?”

Mac’s eyes widened. In all the pain and anguish that had transpired in the last few seconds, he had forgotten that not even ten feet away from him was his sister and all the others Blackheart had gathered for his ritual. Blackheart looked over his shoulder at her, a chortle bubbling up from deep within him as he slowly stood up.

“That’s right. I had forgotten all about that,” Blackheart said, amusement lacing his voice as he stepped next to Mac so that the two of them were facing the four captives. “All you mortals look the same to me; I had forgotten that you wear a mask.” Mac’s heart started to race, a cold that had nothing to do with Blackheart’s sickening aura ran through him. He wanted to run, to hide, to escape from what he knew was about to happen; but he was stuck there, his golden eyes locked onto Applejack’s green ones.

“Mrs Applejack Nimbus, I would like to reintroduce you to someone from your past,” Blackheart said, before plunging his claws into Mac’s side. Mac roared in pain as the claws sank into him. The pain was not merely physical, but also the spiritual pain from bonds that had worn deep into him over the years. The magic that was within all creatures, which if harnessed could be made manifest; the magic he had learned to use to make Wild Blaze. Blackheart tightened his grip around Mac’s flesh and his being and ripped at it, cleaving away a part of his flesh and the magic used to conceal himself.

Blood and flames showered onto the ground as Mac screamed out in pain; a scream joined with sharp intakes of breath and a single sob of realization.

“Introducing the not so dead or dearly departed, Macintosh Apple, the Ghost Rider.” Blackheart laughed, dropping the torn piece of gristle onto the forest ground like so much trash. Mac had to fight the sensation of passing out from the pain, enduring it all, feeling the magic ripped away from him as the spell undid itself. He gritted his teeth to suppress any other sounds; he dared not gratify that bastard with any more.

“Oh, come now. Don’t be so shy,” Blackheart said, claws wrapping around his muzzle and yanking his face up to look at the four sacrifices still chained to trees. “Don’t you want to see your sister again?” Laughter consumed Blackheart, throwing his head backwards, the Everfree trembling in his demonic pleasure.

Mac looked up at Applejack as himself, not the mask of Wild Blaze, for the first time in six years. Her face was a mixture of emotions all trying to fight for control, tears freely streaming down her face. Joy, rage, sadness, they were all there as Applejack saw her brother for the first time in so long, but not in the way either one of them would have imagined; both prisoners of the Devil’s son with their lives about to end.

“Mac…?” Applejack whispered, her entire body trembling as she looked down at him. “Is that… is that really you?” Mac couldn't answer. He turned his eyes from her, too ashamed to look at her. He had failed her twice now, the first when he had run away, and now when he was unable to save her, unable to protect those he cared for most once again.

“Oh indeed it is,” Blackheart said, letting go of Mac’s face, the dark aura encompassing his claw once more, and struck the right side of Mac’s skull. Light and pain filled Mac’s vision as he screamed out in pain, an agony more intense than all the blades that had gone through his body so far. His head sagged as he breathed heavily, the burning of the Rider’s flames trailing over the right side of his face. Bone remade and blood seeped clear but something felt off.

He turned to glare at Blackheart, pain and anger fueling his actions, wanting to strike him down with the glare alone. But when he turned, he could barely see the demon next to him. Panic took Mac’s mind as he closed his right eye, trying to understand it all. The image before him stayed the same, so he close his left and he saw… nothing. He was sure he had his right open; he tried to blink it away to see if something was clouding his vision, but a cold fear struck him.

“Wounds inflicted upon the host of the Ghost Rider by a purely mortal being can be healed easily, for mortal magic can easily be washed away by demonic powers. Yet, I have always wondered what would happen if the host was struck by a demon while still mortal,” Blackheart said in an all too easy tone, as though sprawled on a chaise longue, discussing a theory with a peer. “The damage is healed, but not entirely it seems.” That was when Mac’s cold fear was realized.

Blackheart had just blinded Mac’s right eye.

Anger surged through Mac’s body as he realized what had happened, struggling against the blades cutting through him as he did so. He was going to kill Blackheart, with or without Ghost Rider. The pain was still there, but that was an afterthought for all he had just lost. Yes he could still see out of the left one, but that was not the point; Blackheart had taken part of his sight for no other reason than to scorn Mac for being the host of Ghost Rider, and did it in front of his sister, his lover, and those who should not have to see such terrible horrors.

“Ah’m going to murder you, Blackheart!” Mac roared, that rage that Mac had only felt as Ghost Rider seeping out, the flames of Hell burning in him still. Blackheart was nonplussed from Mac’s threat, simply watching the blood drip down his claws from the attack.

“Now you must be yearning for the answer as to why I needed my father’s dog,” Blackheart said, acting as no interruption had been made in the conversation earlier. “You see, I knew I could not take over my father’s kingdom or to merge our worlds together without opening the Gates of Hell. My father tried time and time again to do so, launching attacks, screaming, and what not; but the same problem kept occuring, he could only attack at night. He was limited in his options, limited in the time he had to orchestrate his plans. Yes, he could survive in the sun, but his army could not, and an army of purely mortal creatures could not do what he needed,. Blackheart walked lazily around Mac, staying within his new blind spot so Mac was left chasing a shadow.

“While my father is indeed powerful, he doesn’t have imagination, except for torture.” Mac let out a howl of pain; he could feel Blackheart lashing at him again, claws covered in that dark power again scarring chasms into his coat. The others screamed out as well, having to watch Blackheart torture Mac, powerless to stop him.

“Leave him alone, you bastard!” Rainbow Dash shouted, the chains rattling as she fought them, but Blackheart paid no mind to her as he struck Mac again.

“So how was I to take over Hell if I only had a night to do it?” Blackheart kept going, cutting Mac’s left side with a single claw, as though working on a piece of art. “I am indeed powerful, but the options available to me were limited, and I was on my own. Thus, I turned to other sources of knowledge,” Blackheart said in a deep chuckle, coming back into Mac’s field of vision, slicing and cutting Mac the whole time. “You mortals have interesting theories on magic, how rituals might be performed, what makes a spell more powerful or weaker. I spent countless years reading it all and I was quite fascinated by what you mortals came up with.” Blackheart delivered another strike, taking time to sneer at the pained screams Mac unleashed.

“That’s when I found it: the theory I needed to ensure my victory and outdo my father. Looking back at it all, it was such a simple idea that it is truly stunning how my oaf of a father missed it. You are familiar with the purpose of a circle in magic, correct?” Blackheart slashed at Mac’s muzzle with one claw, the sting of it drawing a startled yelp of pain. Blackheart watched the flames dance across Mac’s muzzle before whipping it away. “Scarring. Not what I had hoped for, but still quite a result. How does it feel to be mortal still?”

“Don’t ya lay lay another claw on him! Or you’ll be answerin’ ta me!” Mac flinched at the words. He could feel the rage within her, straining against her bonds as the demon continued to torture him. Blackheart looked at her lazily, more of a reaction anyone else had gotten thus far besides the pain-filled screams of Mac.

“Quiet. Or I will rip that baby out of you and smother you with it,” he said, words cold as arctic ice. He then turned back to Mac. “Circles in magic are used to contain the energies that spells gather up by, either sacrifice or other sorts; they are also used to keep magic contained within them. The circle has to be fueled by the same magic it is both protecting and defending against, that way the circle does not interfere with either act of magical power. Tell me, did you or the mutt ever wonder why he could not feel those corrupted souls so close to Ponyville before? They must have been like bright spot lights to the spirit's hunger.”

Mac’s eye widened, or at least the left one did, the other still a numb sensation, as he started to put pieces together. Everything that Blackheart did had an edge to it, a play ready to be made one way or another. Ghost Rider was a demonic power, that much was certain, but he was a demon that went after corrupt souls and destroyed them by any means necessary. How he did so and why he did were evil one way, but good in another, for he was taking on those others could not. An act of both good and evil. Blackheart had used him and Ghost Rider as part of his plan, a plan Mac could still not fully see but was beginning to.

“Look at the wheels turning up there,” Blackheart mused, savoring whatever look that was on Mac’s face. “You are beginning to understand. Since you made a deal with my father, I have arranged spots needed for my workings, infecting the areas with evil that the dog would one day find, but only when I needed him to,” Blackheart said, amusement in his voice as he struck Mac again, for nothing more than the flickering smirk it brought him. “At the time where it would benefit me most. I could not do the acts myself, for I had created the evil to create more later, so I needed a willing pawn that had no idea of the precise nature of why those souls had to die there.”

“You made five points,” Mac heard Twilight speak, understanding Blackheart’s plan and the way he followed through on it. “Then channeled your will to connect them all within a pentagram and circle, making a magical barrier against the sun's light and your power. That way, your power and the ritual you had set up would be safe from the light of the sun!” Twilight finished, her jaw open in realization.

“Give the princess a cookie,” Blackheart said, his voice lined with laughter.

“But how did you keep those spells up? And why is it Ghost Rider is still affected by the sun?” Twilight asked, looking down at the demon with pinprick pupils. Mac knew that she was terrified and her mind holding on the last link to her sanity: logic.

“Another tribute to the dog,” Blackheart said, adding another series of scars to Mac’s body. “His magic leaves a unique mark upon the land; it remains there for some time after he has attacked, and as long as victims of his Penance Stare stay there and alive, the magic remains, leaving me time to use it,” Blackheart said, striking Mac, this time with a hard punch to break bones. “As for the one committing the acts for the intentions to feed, the circle would not protect him from the sun’s light,” Blackheart said, looking upon the deformation in Mac’s body.

“Even with all that preparation, I needed time to prepare the ritual, time spent fighting Ghost Rider, if only for a distraction. Thus I needed an army, and Hell is full of souls willing to fight for a second chance at life,” Blackheart said, waiting for Mac’s bones to mend, before striking again to cause a fresh ripple of pain through the stallion and achieving the screams he so desired. “That effort took time and power, but those fools served their purpose, keeping Ghost Rider distracted while I could prepare my ritual.”

At those words, Mac felt Ghost Rider roaring inside of him, having enough of Blackheart’s words, wanting to strike him dead then and there but powerless to do so. He was still trapped under the sun’s power, and unless Blackheart waited for the sun to set again, he could not fight. Blackheart chuckled, as though he could hear Ghost Rider within Mac’s mind, and slashed at Mac’s flesh again with that cruel dark energy.

“Without Ghost Rider, I could have never of done this,” Blackheart said, voice light and cheery as he stood before Mac again, kneeling down to look him in the eyes. “Nor without you, Macintosh, for if you did not sell your soul to the Devil, none of this pain would have happened,” his tone chilled in an instant. “So thank you, colt. I look forward to torturing you and that dog for all eternity.” With that, the blades retracted out of Mac’s body, their edges becoming serrated to cut deeper, leaving him a bloody and helpless mess.

Mac fell to the ground with a meaty thump, hooves unable to support his weight, landing in a puddle of his own blood which splashed out in all directions. The droplets that hit the barrier of the ritual spell sizzled audibly as they passed into the ether. Blackheart watched him fall, then stomped his talons into Mac’s chest and stomach, bones breaking from the impact as the sharp edges dug into him, plunging swift and cool and dark. Once satisfied with the act, Blackheart moved over to the nearest of the sacrifices, Applejack, as the shield around the ritual spell lowered, ready for Applejack and her unborn foal’s blood.

Mac had lost.

He was helpless to stop Blackheart: the demon had thought of everything, had been too strong and cunning for he or Rider to stop. Even if Mac had known about this ritual, what would have changed? Zadkiel had nearly done the sisters in by himself, and with Fin Fang Foom there he would have probably succeeded and opened the gates that way. No matter how quick, how strong, or how powerful he and Ghost Rider were, they were nothing to Blackheart. Even with the power of Ghost Rider, he was just as helpless in the face of true evil as any other pony was. Now he had to watch in a broken heap as the bastard murdered his little sister, too weak to save her, to save anypony.

He needed more power, power to stop him, but there was none to be had.

All he could do was wait to watch Blackheart raise his claw, flowing and coursing with dark power, to murder his sister, and then Rainbow Dash, Twilight, and Fluttershy. He watched the horror in all of their eyes as Blackheart lift his talon to strike down Applejack, tears streaking down all their faces as their combined screams filled the air. Mac was too broken to do anything, too weak to have done anything even if he could rise. He was just a stallion facing off against a godlike creature. He just wanted it all to stop, to stop hearing the agonized screams, to stop feeling the pain, just to stop.

The screams nearly cut off, reduced to mere muffles as though they were miles away. The light skewed and dimmed slightly, the glow of the magic around them pulsing slower till they had nearly stopped, even Blackheart’s lowering claw moved slower.

What the Hell? Mac thought, his good eye darting around, trying to figure out what was happening. Is that bastard makin’ time go slower so Ah’d have ta watch every moment?! His eye kept moving around, the pained looks in the faces around them burning into his memory. Blackheart you bastard! Ah’m gonna kill ya, just wait and see! Ah don’t care how long it takes, your gonna be dead by my hoo—

I could help you kill him now.

Mac had grown used to the voice of Ghost Rider in his head over the years, to having another presence lurking around and knowing what he was thinking at all times. He had long since grown used to the sensation of Rider’s rough voice intruding at the most awkward of times.

But it had been just the one voice.

Who's there? Mac thought, fighting back a sudden fit of giggles that threatened to spill out. In these final moments he had finally gone mad; after all he had been through and seen, this was what drove him to discard his senses.

Oh, please! I’m not an imaginary voice in your head! Look to your left, dolt! Mac focused his attention on the world around him, still fighting back those giggles. Lying just a few feet from him was another pool of blood that had seeped into his own. A pool of yellow blood. Mac followed the trail to its source, a creature that looked just as broken as he felt.

Discord.

The Lord of Chaos’ eyes were half open, looking like one trying to fight off sleep. He was pale, and looked in blinding agony, but somehow he was still alive; and he was somehow communicating with Mac.

We don’t have much time, Discord’s voice rang out in Mac’s mind, a sense of urgency on it that did not reflect on Discord’s face. Once our blood was joined, I set up a spell to communicate, and thoughts go a hell of a lot faster than speaking, so don’t ask about why time is slowing down. It's not really: We are just observing it from a different point of view.

Mac was not a slow pony. He understood the basic concepts of things around him, and he had even read a few books about the flow of time. Yet none of this made a lick of sense to him. How is that possibl—

We can have a nice long talk about that if we survive this! Discord’s voice was loud and clear, so much so Mac was sure he had cringed physically from it. There is a way to save them all, but it will cost you. Mac eyed Discord. He had made one too many bad deals in the past, and he wasn’t sure if the Lord of Chaos was any better than the Devil to make deals with.

Cost what? Discord remained silent for a time, much longer than Mac would have liked, shifting his gaze to Blackheart. His claw had moved just a few inches, a few inches too much to his sister, who had a look of so much pain and anguish tearing at her face that Mac felt physically ill. Seeing her in such a state would drive any pony who knew love to make bad choices. Love was the ultimate motivator for stupid choices. Damn it all! Whatever the cost Ah’ll pay it!

The cost… is that you and the warrior would be bound together until the other seal is broken. Discord said. The danger around Mac was obvious, and time to make choices was running out. The lives of four mares, if not the entire world’s population, were at stake. Such stakes did not drive any pony, no matter their upbringing, to have articulate responses.

Huh? Mac was looking right at Discord when he responded with such eloquence, and for a second Mac could have sworn Discord tried to roll his glassy eyes.

I can unleash more of the warrior’s power, the Ghost Rider as you know him! Discord said, his mental voice virtually fizzing with haste. As you well know, the Devil tried to take over this plane many times, and when he did, he asked for my allegiance against an individual. One that sought the Devil himself in battle, who personally intervened to save this plane and cause me no end of trouble, the self righteous twit. Now Mac was confused. He had no idea who this warrior was, or how the Ghost Rider was involved. The silence that fell between them led to a snort from Discord, as though it might unstick the gears in the clod’s head.

Ghost Rider was not always a spirit of Hell! For what reason would there be a spirit in Hell that went out of its way to hunt down the corrupted souls? To torment them further than they already had been? The Devil did not create Ghost Rider; he is the remains of the warrior! Within Mac’s mind he could feel Ghost Rider’s presence, listening to Discord’s thoughts. Mac would have thought Rider would have attacked Discord, an intruder there, but he didn’t even growl. He just remained silent and listened.

A warrior who, like Twilight, ascended, granted to him by Mother to protect her children. One who fought for justice and was willing to take on those of immense evil. We tricked him to enter Hell where we could trap him. We tortured him without end, destroying his mind and body to take him out of the frame. We broke him, but we could not destroy him. So we corrupted him and his purpose, each one of us placing a seal over the remains to keep part of his power and all of his memories locked, so he could never reach his full power again. Ghost Rider remained silent. Mac was surprised he was not roaring in anger, attacking anything and everything within his reach, but he didn’t. For once, Ghost Rider was too stunned to act. His entire foundation had been shaken, changing everything about him.

And… you hold one of these seals? Mac asked, not wanting to give Rider time to act.

I do. If I break it, part of Rider’s powers and parts of his memories will come back to him. If I am right, he should be able to act… but there is a catch.

Always is. What is it?

If I break the seal, the Devil will not be able to restore you. You and Ghost Rider will be forever bound till the other seal is broken. You will remain how you are now, bound to Ghost Rider. You will not age, conventional means will not kill you, and when innocent blood is shed you will become the Rider. Understand what that means.

Mac already understood what that meant. He would outlive his family. If he had children he would outlive them as well, doomed to watch all those he loved and cared for die around him, while he remained the same. Until he could get the Devil to break the seal, he and Ghost Rider would remain together, till the end of days and maybe even further. What life could he have as an nearly immortal being unable to make connections? The same being that he would be if he let Blackheart win, just sharing a Hell with all those who didn’t deserve such torment.

In his mind’s eye, he could see Ghost Rider standing there before him, waiting for his reply. He didn’t push Mac to any decision; just like it had been his choice to sign the contract with the Devil in the first place, this was his choice again. Even so, Mac knew Ghost Rider would much rather spend his days attached to some hick from the country who didn’t indulge in vices and bored him than be in a world controlled by a bratty son.

“Deal…” Mac wheezed out, his eye focused on Discord, wanting nothing more than to fight back.

The Lord of Chaos took in a shallow breath, light sparks of green dancing across his body as he spoke.

“Pendragon.”

--

Rainbow could only watch as Blackheart approached them, his claws still fresh with Mac’s blood dripping onto the forest floor. She looked back at the stallion; he laid there motionless, most of his body deformed from Blackheart’s brutal beating. The only indication he was still alive were the orange flames sweeping across his body and mending the broken bones, but they were out of time. The sickening cold of Blackheart’s aura was all around them now as he stood before Applejack, his red eyes fixed on her, darkness gathering in his claw.

No! It can’t end like this! Rainbow thought, struggling against the chains that held her, the metal digging into her flesh but never slowing her down. There had to be a way to get free, to somehow save the day.

Her magenta eyes flicked back to Mac, the flames growing brighter as he healed, but he didn’t seem any closer to getting back into the fray. To see him in such away curdled her stomach. Not more than a few minutes ago he seemed untouchable, a power that rivaled the sisters, but here he was: laying in a puddle of his own blood, unable to even save himself. She kept fighting the chains that held her. There still had to be a way.

“Leave her alone!” Rainbow was ripped from her own mental struggles as Fluttershy yelled out at Blackheart, struggling against her bindings as well. The chains dug into her flesh as well, and blood oozed from the wounds. Sparks of purple caught Rainbow’s attention next. Twilight still fought as well, her face writhing in pain. The ring around her horn still stemmed her might, but that did not deter the young Alicorn.

There has to be something! I will not go out like this! Rainbow swore to herself, keeping her struggles up as Blackheart raised his claw higher, dark energy swirling inside of it. Rainbow looked over to Applejack, who was the first on the demon’s list, and what she saw sent a chill of fear through her that she had never felt before. Applejack simply hung there limp, her jaw hanging open, tears trailing from her glazed eyes, and softly shaking out the occasional sob. Between finding out she was pregnant, that her brother was alive, and this bastard’s plan, she wasn’t sure if Applejack could take any more.

Her eyes flicked back to Mac again. His good eye was barely open. He looked up at the four of them and at Blackheart before he uttered a single word. Flashes of green danced in the corner of Rainbow’s vision, vanishing into a blur as Mac’s body exploded in golden fire!

A howl of pain that couldn’t have possibly come from any equine being tore through the night. Rainbow turned to the source to find Blackheart spinning away from Applejack, arms in a defensive position before him as he shielded himself from the flames. Parts of his scales were already blackened and smoking. They swiftly cooled grey and brittle looking, like ash, much worse than anything she had seen inflicted on him so far. Golden flames continued to grow, rotating as they grew higher with each turn, becoming a cyclone of fire, soon rising taller than many of trees of the Everfree.

While the flames grew, Blackheart snarled out in defiant rage as he gathered his power in each of his claws. Lances of ice blue and shadow magic flew from his claws at the gathering storm of fire, but each strike died before it could even get halfway to the golden flames; ice turning to steam and the shadows bursting into light, wincingly bright for an instant before fading back to nothing. This did not deter Blackheart as he threw blasts of power at the growing storm, howling out with each blast in a language that Rainbow could not understand but still throttled her ears.

With each rotation the flames grew higher until they exploded outward, washing over all those present. Blackheart howled out in unmistakable agony; Rainbow could see flickers of blue and black in the bast as she guessed he tried to shield himself. The flames didn’t hurt her though, they felt… gentle.

Instead of the burning she had expected from Blackheart’s reaction, the flames felt more as a warm embrace, the ones Mac held her tenderly beneath a nice, thick blanket. The aches and pains she had from fighting against the chains faded as well, the blaze numbing all of them. She had to fight the urge to fall asleep in the midst of the wave, so comfortable and pleasant as it washed over her. The sharp contrast of what Blackheart was expecting kept her awake. That, and the column of fire that towered into the sky where Mac had been.

Within the fire, Rainbow could just make out the outline of Mac getting to his hooves. He shook himself off, the turned to where Blackheart was. His body began to shift as he stood within the flames, growing taller and longer as well. Then he stomped one hoof, and the flames exploded out in a glowing wave so bright Rainbow raced to shut her eyes. Even with her eyes closed the light was still blindingly painful; a cleansing light, which was searching for any wrong doing and was there to show how easy it was to make the right decision.

As the light faded, Rainbow had to blink her eyes several times just for her vision to be blurry. Even when she had witnessed Ghost Rider reverting back to Wild Blaze it hadn't been that bright. That was when reality came back to her in a landslide.

“Mac!” Rainbow shouted, wrestling with her binds again. When her eyes found where she had seen Mac last, her jaw fell open.

Standing where Mac had been earlier, stood a grey Alicorn. He had a mane of gold that was the same color as the flames that had crested over them all. A set of black armor covered his chest, back, forelegs, and hindlegs, all accented with dark grey and spikes. Chains of silver wrapped around his forelegs and waist. He wore a black corinthian helmet with a grey accent, and a black ring around his horn, decorated with a spike and a blood red ruby. Rainbow was in the perfect position to see the Alicorn’s full profile, seeing the morningstar mace strapped to his flank by a leather strap, the scars running across his body, and the cutie mark of black scales. He was at least the same height as Celestia, if not taller, but stood so much broader; the build of a true warrior. What really caught her attention was his burning orange eyes, the same as Rider’s flames. He had the faintest of smiles on his lips, observing the world around him, though his eyes never glanced at Blackheart.

Blackheart stood across from the Alicorn, his arms crossed in a X, covered in sparks of black and blue magic. Parts of his body had been burned badly, bright red and pulsing visibly. His chest heaved with each breath as frost tried to cover his wounds, but burst into steam upon contact.

“What are you…?” Blackheart asked in a low growl, hatred lacing every word. The Alicorn didn’t spare a glance at Blackheart; instead, his eyes trailed along the treeline that Rainbow Dash and the others were still bound to. He cocked his head slightly at Twilight, studying her for a moment.

A spark of orange magic flashed across the Alicorn’s horn and the chains around Blackheart's captives snapped, before turning into a inky black substance and fading away. The sudden release didn’t leave Rainbow much time to react, and like the others she fell, sprawling onto the forest floor. Rainbow let out a small groan, as she looked up just in time to see Blackheart glaring back at all of them. The veins of blue pulsed rapidly, his dark magic cascading across his body, as that aura of anti-life that surrounded him exploded out with new power.

“Who are you?!” Blackheart roared, thrusting both arms forward and unleashing a ball of black energy, sparking with the blue power of Cocytus ice. The ground between Blackheart and the Alicorn was covered in a thick, frozen glaze, bolts of black power shooting out in every direction. As the blast reached the Alicorn, he gave out a low chuckle, and his horn flashed again.

The air around him shimmered for a fraction of a second before the blast splashed against an invisible barrier. Or at least that was how Rainbow could describe it. The ball hit whatever the Alicorn had created and began to disperse, smearing across an invisible surface and fading into nothingness. The act didn't phase the Alicorn in any way Rainbow could see, but the rage rolling off of Blackheart was palpable.

“Pathetic,” the Alicorn said, his voice deep and rich, carrying a power of its own that went beyond Ghost Rider’s. While Blackheart growled out in fury, the Alicorn shook his head as orange flames consumed him. They were not as intense as the fires before were, but Rainbow recognized the distinctive orange, a smile spreading across her lips.

The Alicorn shrank in stature until he was just a head taller than an average stallion. The flames began to fade away, revealing bones, a leather jacket adorned with spikes, a metal horn, and a burning skull. Chains emerged from his back, whipping around in agitation, ready to be used once again. Ghost Rider roared, the flames around his skull grew with his roar, as he spread his wings.

His wings were just like the rest of him, made of dead skin stretched over harsh bone, and very much bat like. The wings were soon burning through, holes blooming in the skin as it withered under the heat. Before long they fell from his body and turned to ash before they could reach the ground.

Blackheart shook visibly as Ghost Rider reemerged, his very breaths slicing the air with fury. Arcs of power erupted from Blackheart’s scales, frost gathering more heavily upon his scales and the ground around him. His claws flinched with every twitch of Rider’s chains. The air became colder with each passing second as Blackheart just stared at Ghost Rider, not seeming to believe that Rider was back.

“Ghost Rider!” Blackheart’s voice burst between bared fangs. He began to roar with incoherent rage, his sanity snapping at the sight of Rider. He pounced at Rider, covering the distance between them faster than Rainbow would have thought possible; but Rider batted him away with a contemptuous flick of a chain, sending the demon sprawling into the forest ground.

Rider turned to face where he had sent Blackheart tumbling, revealing the right side of his face to Rainbow. Vertical cracks spread along the eye socket and down his face, right where Blackheart has smashed Mac so incessantly. He walked over to where Blackheart lay sprawled, chains whipping back and forth as he approached, the flames growing brighter with every step. Blackheart stirred endlessly, trying to get back to his feet, but anytime he started to push his way up, a chain slammed down on him with the meaty impact of bones breaking. With each whip of the chains, Blackheart gave out a cry of pain, as though it would let him evade Ghost Rider’s fury.

The demon tried to call upon shields of ice and energy, but they stood no chance against the Rider’s power. Chains slammed down upon the shields, shattering them upon contact, before they pounded into Blackheart’s body with meaty thuds. With each impact, Blackheart cried out in pain, trying to crawl away from Ghost Rider but escape was impossible. Ghost Rider’s chains wrapped around Blackheart’s legs and dragged him back into the clearing where everypony could see him.

“Blackheart,” Ghost Rider growled, chains slithering over Blackheart’s body, ensnaring him with the chains. “Through your actions, oceans of innocent blood have been spilt,” Rider said, flipping Blackheart onto his back, forcing the demon to look up at the Spirit of Vengeance. “With each vile breath you take, innocents suffer from your cruelty,” Ghost Rider said, voice low as he pressed his hoof against Blackheart’s chest, pinning the demon down. “Look into my eyes, and be judged, Blackheart, son of the Devil!”

“You really think it's that easy, mongrel?” Blackheart shouted, his solid red eyes staring up into the empty pits of Rider’s eyes, not even trying to fight the gaze. “For that stupid stare to work on a creature requires two things: regret for the stare to draw upon, and a soul!” Blackheart laughed, ice building up on his body again. “And unfortunately for you, I don’t regret anything I did! Not one bit of it!” Blackheart cackled on, his eyes wide and never breaking from Ghost Rider’s. “So what will the mutt do?”

Ghost Rider looked down at the demon, never breaking the stare himself. He kept the pressure on Blackheart, chains unwavering, coils tightening around the demon to keep him steady. Rainbow could only watch. Mac had explained the Penance Stare to her once before, how it was the way that Ghost Rider fed, and that it was the ultimate weapon of a Rider; never had Mac mentioned about what was necessary for the Penance Stare to work. Then again, Mac didn’t say anything about being an Alicorn!

“True,” Rider spoke, leaning in closer to Blackheart. “But as they say, there is more than one way to skin a cat…” In a fraction of a heartbeat, the chains Rider used to wrap Blackheart turned into a painfully bright orange, that instantly started spewing smoke as Blackheart’s flesh roasted. Blackheart screamed out as the chains melted into his body, while Ghost Rider stepped off of him and raised Blackheart above him.

“Now, burn,” Rider growled, before opening his mouth as wide as he could. A stream of fire exploded out of Rider and swallowed Blackheart instantly. The demon made sounds that Rainbow wouldn’t have believed could have come from any living thing, the raw, high screech echoing in the Everfree as the flames consumed him. Sparks of blue and black were visible for a fraction of a second within the flames, but were quickly lost in the torrent. Black smoke filled the sky above them all, a pungent smell squatting in the air; something between freshly laid asphalt and burning flesh.

All the while, Blackheart screamed in incoherent pain and rage, as Rider held him there, burning his existence away. Rainbow watched with morbid curiosity, unable to look away from the sight. By all reasoning it made her innards lurch to watch, to see someone being burned alive, to feel unimaginable pain as the flames ate away at them, but this creature had plans to do far worse; deep inside, Rainbow Dash took glee in Blackheart’s torture, but that didn’t stop the bile rising in her throat, which burned even harder for that fact that the creature that was doing this was also Mac.

For several long and agonizing minutes the screams went on, till they faded away, replaced by the roar of the fire; and even then, Ghost Rider kept spewing out flames, never showing mercy till the job was done. Chains began to slither themselves out from the onslaught, their charge having melted away. The were bright orange from the intense heat, shimmering waves and coils rolling off them. It wasn’t till each chain had been removed from the fire that Rider shut down the storm of flames.

There wasn’t even ash left of Blackheart once Ghost Rider was done with him; the only reminder that Blackheart had even existed were the cuts and bruises Rainbow felt on herself, and that festering smell in the air.

Ghost Rider gave snort, flames escaping his nostrils as he shook himself like a dog, chains rattling as he did so. He then turned back to the ponies gathered there. While he had no eyes, Rainbow could have sworn she felt his gaze move to each one of them. Rider gave another snort as orange flames rose to consume him.

“Innocent,” he said, as the orange flames fully enveloped him. Burning tendrils spiraled out from Ghost Rider, moving across the ground to where the ritual had been set up, and eviscerated it with the merest glance, leaving nothing but scorched earth in their wake. Not stopping there, the flames moved across the land, maneuvering around Rainbow and the others so as to not affect them. Climbing up the trees, the flames burned away the sigels left there, leaving the tree stripped of their bark but free of demonic powers. The cleansing fire kept moving outwards, incinerating all trace of Blackheart as they slowly began to die out, while the source of the flames began to dwindle.

Where the Alicorn and Ghost Rider had once been, stood a bright red pony, scars crisscrossing across his entire body, his mane a shock of straw-yellow, a bright green eye—the other closed with four scars running down the eye—and the cuite mark of a green apple with a blackened scar running down it. He looked ragged, breathing heavily as the last of the orange flames burned out.

Author's Notes:

I couldn't resist the how I did it speech. I really could't. Needed to explain everything I had been setting up for awhile. Basically a combination of Harry Dresden, Fullmetal Alchemist and a few other things.

Thank you to Arbarano and TotallyNotaBrony for all of their edits!

3 chapters to go!