Author's Notes:

I'm sorry to say that there isn't going to be much killing or mauling for most of the story. I only started on the high stakes note I did because I wanted to place him in his element first before throwing him in a world of technicolor peaceful ponies prancing around on rainbows.

This story isn't about killing stuff. It's about having one character facing his demons and overcoming them by the skin of his teeth, and the other character learning what true evil actually means... and by the way, I'm switching the POV of every even chapter between these two characters. I hope you don't mind by any modicum amount. Feel free to mind in greater amounts, however. It helps me sleep at night.

The original story had the main character dodge a bullet to his sanity. This version decided to cry out some corny one-liner right before jumping head-first into the darkness that was going to engulf him anyway. And yes, it was going to engulf the hell out of him.

He turned out pretty bad, but hey. You don't survive a bad world for very long by running away. Believe me, I tried. When life gives you lemons, you need to weaponize those citrus fruits and make life regret ever giving you the means to kick its ass ironically. Use them to make nunchucks to punch it in the labia.

Whew... so anyway, calm down the hype. This chapter takes the perspective of Luna now. So none of that lemon flailing yet. Give it till chapter 7. For now, we're getting to know the main character...s.

(*) Hopefully Twilight or anyone else as magically or/and spiritually apt didn't get woken up by this, though one could debate that only specially trained and capable alicorns could smell that taint. It could also be debated that you'd need to be awake to be able to immediately notice if someone was stinking up the place. Cadence was too far away, though.

It was another peaceful winter night.

My stars remained in their place obediently, my ponies resting peacefully below. It seemed hard to believe that there ever was any time of grief betwixt us. Most certainly, it was nothing like a thousand years ago. I could only be thankful for my dear sister for this change...

It was just another silent, snowy night. Since barely anyone ever bothered to attend Court, and the nobles only bothered to grace the night on times of festive balls that rarely took them too far into the late hours. I didn't have anything better to do with my time either way.

This was far from unwanted, however. I enjoyed these moments. In flight, on the horizon, watching over restful sleep. It was not often, but there were the occasional malevolent forces taking shape at night. This particular night, however, seemed as though it was going to be a peaceful one.

Indeed, it seemed that it was going to be just another lonely, cold night...

That was how it seemed, up until I was proved wrong.

”What in the name of the gods...”

A massive outburst of power erupted somewhere in the distance. It appeared to be somewhere near-

”No...”

It wasn’t near Canterlot, it was right above it!

I forced myself into getting back as soon as possible. I would've most likely broken the magical barrier if it was only sheer wingpower put into the effort, but fading ethereal through the night sky made it unnecessary to force such a cacophonous stunt. It would only be a few minutes by the time I arrived all the way from Manehattan, so hopefully Celestia would be able to deal with the source of the disturbance on her own until then.

As I drew nearer, all I could ask myself was what this being could possibly be. The amount of magic it was burning through, what was it doing? And why was it so... raw? Like it was swimming directly in the leylines, its soul was completely bare. It was so naked, flaring and befouling so abundantly, I could sense its particulars from tens of miles away.(*) I hadn’t sensed a presence this dark since Sombra. Was he back? No, it wasn't the same kind of taint. It was worse.

Where the fallen crystal pony was boiling with fury and pride, traits which rendered him predictable in the end, this one's presence radiated only cold, calculating discipline. He had a patient soul, as well as a disturbingly misshapen one. Such a foe needed to be caught immediately, lest they become ready to take whatever action such a demented mind might be capable of.

Whatever this being was, it seemed that it was not taking up any acts of aggression yet. Neither was Celestia doing anything about the obvious threat right at our doorstep. Was she being cautious? Truly one cannot be too careful with this particular kind of foe. After all, the fallen king was by no means strong enough to face us both, but he still managed to almost steal away victory through the use of his cunning and ruthless curses. This one did not seem as powerful, but he seemed to be more careful. Perhaps Tia was aware of more than I was? After all, she was closer.

As I reached halfway over the Everfree, I seemed to have drawn within range of the strange entity's perception, prompting it to flee. It moved so quickly, almost instantaneously, then it stopped just as quickly. That was not teleportation, the being seemed as thought it was somehow exempt from the laws of physics altogether.

Its behavior was suspicious. It didn't do anything, almost as if it was only trying to goad us into following it. Was it leading us into a trap? Hopefully Tia could shed some light on what was happening.

We took no time at all to meet up where the new being surfaced.

”Sister, what is going on?”

She only gave me an aggravatingly calm smile in return, as she usually does when she knows something I don’t. I was in no mood to deal with this, and I knew she noticed. There was only so much she could do to mask her reactions.

”It would seem that someone has decided to grace us with a visit. Someone from outside our world.”

Someone from another world? Truly? Exactly how powerful was this stranger? How much energy did they expend to get through the boundaries of reality?

”And why didn’t you take action until I arrived?” I accused pensively, keeping an eye on the stranger’s magical presence.

”Because I was more interested in finding out what he wanted. If we know that, then we can predict his actions.”

So it’s a he, then? Noteworthy, I thought. I started towards the stranger’s new position, making sure to be subtler this time. Tia decided the same as she flied beside me.

”What else could you tell about this new player in our fates, besides it being a he?”

”Not enough. He’s troubled, and you’ve probably noticed how... unseemly his particular type of presence is, but he does not seem aggressive in any way. If anything, he just seems to be seeking to be left alone.”

”Be that as it may, we can’t allow him to roam freely. Who knows what he’s capable of.”

I couldn’t have timed my statement better. The stranger just so happened to decide now was a good time to start channeling power for a rather dark-natured spell.

”That’s necromancy! We must make haste!” I shouted as I took the lead. Tia decided to follow close behind, wordlessly though, and with no urgency. Did she know something else?

I’d assumed the stranger noticed our approach, but this time he didn’t try to escape. He was most likely ready to face us now. Who knew what gruesome trap he prepared for us?

He was within a cave. A perfect place for an ambush, I realized.

”Perhaps it would be best if only I entered, sister. We can’t be too... care...ful.”

Celestia decided to answer by just walking inside before I even finished. She looked back quizzically to gesture for me to come along. I sighed, and obliged.

The amount of necromantic energy being used was massive, and it was all focused on creating one creature...

'Wait. Create? It’s not bringing any corpse back to life, it’s bringing a new body into existence...'

”Is he...” I started, and was cut off.

”Creating new life? It would seem so.”

”But that’s impossible! Necromancy does not act this way! It’s a force of harm, not good!”

”It would seem that there’s yet more to this particular creature than either of us know at the moment.”

”So you’re suggesting that he might not be that bad? Or are you saying he’s just all that more unknown and unpredictable?”

”I’m saying that we shouldn’t decide on who he is in his stead.” She looked at me critically. I sighed in defeat. She knew me, that wasn’t a surprise at all. She didn’t even need to know me for a few thousand years in order to know exactly what to say to drive her words home. I afforded myself to wallow in the irony of the situation.

”Fair enough. I suppose we can afford to interrogate him and see which one of us is wrong.”

”I’m happy to hear it,” she smiled again. How quaint.

We tracked down the source of the spell to the back of the cave. There, what we found gave us both pause in our steps.

It was a foal. A young dark-grey colt with beautiful yellow hair. He looked malnourished, but that wasn’t what drew our attention as much as the disturbing way his eyelids sagged. It appeared that his sockets were empty, that he didn’t have any eyes inside.

What gave me even more pause, though not as much shock, was the presence of not only a horn on his forehead, but also wings on his back. My words came out without my noticing, ”My stars...”

By Tia’s composure, she was affected just about the same.

Surely enough, the dark energies by now were mostly spent, what were left of them still active within the colt. The source of the energies inside as well.

Whoever we were looking for, it appeared that we’ve found him. This was him.

What was going on here?

The colt seemed to be asleep, though I couldn’t see any dreams within his mind. 'Was there something wrong?', I thought? 'Were the dark energies actually hurting him?'

I searched more carefully, studying the energies and their apparent effects. They weren’t hurting him. They were, indeed, creating this body from nothing but magical aether. However, the process seemed incomplete. The spirit was still settling, the mind was still forming, the soul was still syncing. Whoever was inside knew what he was doing. His ability was simply unfathomable. The skill, the knowledge required to recreate the minute details that made up a living body so flawlessly...

Fear struck. I voiced out carefully, ”What else would he be capable of?”

Celestia seemed to understand what I was hinting at and nodded. ”We need to suppress his magic either way. The dark energies are already affecting this body.”

I let out a huff. ”This certainly won’t be bothersome.”

Leaving aside the obvious main reason why no creature should ever have access to such talents, under any circumstances; Ponies are very profoundly affected by their magic, beyond simply giving them their cutiemarks. As for dark magic? The effects vary from the pony dying, to affecting the mind, body and soul progressively, misshaping the body while it accumulates the energies until they either cause the user to burn out, or burst often rather catastrophically. Perhaps his old world worked differently, but the way things were going, this new visitor's body was not long for its new world without our intervention.

By nature, suppressing another’s magic is no simple endeavor. Cutting one's tie to the psionic field generally requires as much concentration to maintain as the target’s magical talent. And considering his capabilities thus far, it will not be a cakewalk. Hopefully we won’t take too long to manufacture a runed relic to manage this task more efficiently.

Once we were certain our binding runes were safely written and secure, we then decided to take a look inside this strange being’s mind. See what we were dealing with. Perhaps it was cheating to simply use magic so conveniently, but when one has the ability at their disposal, why not use it when they truly had a reason to?

"Hello?" I spoke. My voice echoing throughout the mind and resonating inside the soul. It didn’t take long for an answer to come.

"Who's there?" a man asked quickly, clearly confused and nervous. "How did you manage to get in here?"

"Quite easily, to be honest,” my sister answered. "As for who we are, you’re speaking to the protectors of this land. Identify yourself, if you please.”

The mindscape was still forming. It was in a shattered state. Even so, we saw glimpses of the memories belonging to the human within. Most of them were quite disturbing. Others were downright horrendous. What manner of monster was this?

"I'm just a lonely traveler looking for a place to live peacefully. I wish no ill intent..."

"But your soul is soaked in blood!" I shot back. Surely he wasn’t really trying to fool us, was he? "Tell us, human. Why should we not destroy you here and now?"

I didn’t want to sound so cruel, but my indignation was just nonetheless. Why should we leave him to roam freely, when he could just harm our subjects so easily, in manners as unspeakable as the ones he’d dealt to his own kind?

Clearly, he was only trying to weasel his way out. To convince us that he’s actually innocent! Could he possibly not even know that we can see his memories?

"...I just want to live."

...Okay, so he was afraid. I could go as far as admitting that his voice hid terror. Even despair.

Still, that didn’t change anything. Even Sombra was scared in the end. And so was I when I was banished to the moon. That doesn’t change the fact that our defeats saved countless innocents. Regardless, we’d already decided to give him the benefit of a doubt before deciding his fate. So, we reached further inside.

The realm of the mind. It takes imagination to form your surroundings. So far, this place was still in the process of creation. It would’ve been cruel to try to dive straight in and look for our answers ourselves. Instead, I decided we might as well let him present his case. As to receive orientation, as well as to study his reactions. My sister likely wanted only to resolve this as gently as possible, but I wanted to look him in the eye.

We entered his mind, appearing as a black void all around. Here, we’d meet with his soul and question him.

As his pseudo-manifestation took in the sight of those belonging to me and my sister in front of him, his mouth gaping in shock (apparently he truly had never seen our kind before), we took his appearance in as well.

It would seem somewhat likely that his soul was already starting to merge with his physical body, in terms of appearance. Perhaps in a few years, as he’d get more and more used to this body, his default spiritual shape would also be that of a pony. Until then, however, only the colors of his fur and mane coincide with his clothing and hair.

A dark gray coat and vestments covered his body, fair blond locks hung over his face, over the bandages covering his eyes, or, eye sockets more likely. It seemed that seeing him eye to eye was going to be a little difficult.

I personally hadn’t met many humans in my time. However his appearance was not surprising. After all, they are one of the most widely-spread, tenacious and versatile races inhabiting throughout the Tree of Eternity.

This was not the first instance of another race visiting our world, even if theirs was among the ones that would do so more often than any other. It would seem that their race holds a certain sympathy for ours, curiously enough.

The human before us appeared worse than he should’ve. He was as skinny as the colt he now resided in, his posture was weary as well as permanently ready for intercepting and countering aggression, and there were clearly no eyes under those bandages. He was clearly caught at a loss.

Tia seemed more than eager enough to speak first. "A fair trial is the least we could afford you. State your case, and we will decide what best to do with you."

The fact that he saw one of us talk had evidently driven home. ’Yes, human. The pretty pony really can talk.’ Even despite his arduous reactions, his mind was very active with considering a cacophony of possibilities.

After further deliberation, he closed his mouth, straightened his back, carried a hand to his chest dramatically and took to a more proactive posture. "As much as I simply love the idea of having someone else decide my fate, might I first..."

"No," Tia answered with finality. The human betrayed quite the savage grimace, the kind I hadn’t even seen on dragons whose eggs had been insulted by intention.

He took a couple calming breaths. Wise. So he knew who he’s dealing with after all, though he undoubtedly has his own dark interpretation of us to fit his twisted philosophies. What might he believe? That we’d stoop to acts of violence similar to his? Perhaps that's why he chose that appearance, to further deceive and discourage us!

I took the liberty of making sure his thoughts would be more easily accessible. The human looked behind himself to find a massive screen playing scenes of his life, melding in and out like in a dream. Only instead of a first person, I made certain that the pictures would be presented from an objective look. This way, nothing would be lost in either transition or context. Just a clear, third person perception. One moment there was a scene of a human child hunting frogs in the bog near his hometown, next there was a cloaked figure battling... what supposedly was a striga.

The alien sighed, gathering his bearings, and spoke again in his calm, collected tone of voice, which even managed as much as to sound reasonable and understanding. The two-faced snake... If he truly was this reasonable, then why in all of Heaven, Hell and all in-between would he ever resort to skinning a man alive?!

"Although I find this incredibly unfair, I suppose it can't be helped... Where should I start now."

His memories started to fade from one to the other more calmly now. Though I could only imagine what he was trying to look for. Not like I had any right to blame him. His main focus here and now was to convince us to be merciful. Unfortunately for him, no amount of begging was going to suffice and no attempt to hide part of the truth would succeed, nor would it be ignored.

Only now did he notice his thoughts were echoing throughout the area. It finally dawned upon him that he had nothing he could do but tell the truth, from his perspective. Let’s see how he colors it. With pride? Arrogance? Resentment?

...Perhaps even joy?

He was nervous about his circumstances. The feelings of anxiety were abound in his mind, all around us. The way he held his composure with all of this negativity coursing through him was impressive indeed.

”Okay then, equine creatures which I have no idea what you are and how you're able to talk. I suppose I have no choice but to explain my entire life to you. Who I am, what I've done to survive, despite how horrible it all was, and why I became the way I am. However, before I start, I'd want to make a few things perfectly clear."

Honesty? It would seem he assessed his situation intelligently. He also seemed to not be above resorting to snark.

"And what would those be?" Tia asked, beckoning him to state his requests.

"Firstly, I will admit in advance that I've done terrible things. But that's only because after the life I've lived, in all the cruelty I've drowned in, I've eventually managed to be able to breathe in it, like a fish in water. I breathed cruelty, and so I offered it in return to those who tried to push me under. I am not sorry for what I've done, I'm not going to lie like anyone else would, saying I did what I had to do because I didn't have a choice. I did it because I wanted to.”

This... wasn’t the kind of confession I was hoping for.

”Secondly, I've never started a fight in my entire life. Ever. I might've gone out of my way to stop injustices or to prevent terrible things from happening, but otherwise I've never assaulted anyone unless my well-being was at stake.”

I decided to refrain from stopping him. None of what he was saying was making any sense...

”Thirdly, consider this. I am at your mercy. I have no control over my body, no say in my fate, no power to fight back. I'm not asking for any donations. I never beg. I'm only asking for you to listen, and listen well, until I consider there is nothing left for me to say. Is all of that acceptable?"

I couldn’t make heads nor tails of what he was saying. He was not lying, that much I could tell. I turned to my sister, who looked back with a surprisingly comprehending look on her face. I could practically see the gears turning in her head, and I could’ve sworn I saw a twinkle in her eye.

"Very well," she spoke before long.

The human acknowledged, then he crossed his arms and started to pace. "I assume introductions might be in order?"

"You first," I answered quickly. He let his head back slightly, lethargically.

"Ah. Well, sorry. But I do not have a name to give. Not anymore."

"How come?"

"Because I needed to get rid of it," was his simple answer, his tone barren, as the images behind him finally focused on the memory in question.

The images showed him from a perspective, writhing in pain on the floor of a forest, lacerations appearing across his flesh and blood spilling from every orifice. We couldn’t feel what pain he felt back then, but we did receive its memory. It was excruciating.

He needed to use every ounce of his concentration to keep himself from passing out, using his magic to both drown out the pain and do the only thing conceivable in order for him to save his life. Even if severing his name was only causing his pain to increase three times over, like trying to amputate an already putrid limb.

"They were using it to kill me, so I was forced to sever it from my being."

He gave neither resent nor regret. Both Celestia and I knew what naming magic entailed, and what it meant for someone to sever it from their being.

Everything he was, everything he would ever be was erased from existence. They were trying to use his name to drag him into oblivion.

Engaging in such damned rituals is one of the few offenses punishable by amputating the horn or memory-wipe. Being forced to sever it... why. Why wasn’t he angry?!

"Why would anyone do such a thing?" Tia asked.

"The simple answer? Human nature."

Despite his words, his answer wasn’t resentful at all. It was just plain, simple. Like speaking a well-known fact, like how the sky is blue and the birds sing.

"I imagine you’d wish for me to explain. Very well, the long-winded answer would generally follow this layout.

"When I was still a stupid, narrow-minded child, I failed to hold my tongue and challenged a noble knight's word. About half a decade later, the king died and it just so happened that it had to be him, of all the people in the world, it would just simply have to be the same knight I angered back then, who would later inherit the throne. That mistake alone was enough to ruin my life..."

The anger in his last two sentences was genuine. However, it seemed as though he was more angry at himself than the knight he was speaking of.

"I hardly think someone would hold a grudge for five years," Celestia tried to argue. It wasn’t that she was doubting in another’s ability for cruelty, she was just trying to poke, and see the reaction.

Her reaction, of course, was a wave of glacial cold. One could only imagine the glare he would’ve offered, if he could.

It was quite curious indeed. He remained stoic and apathetic at certain moments, then he’d explode in anger at others. If they weren’t so consistent, I would’ve just presumed that he was insane. However, there does seem to be a kind of logical pattern. It would seem that he decided to discriminate regarding what to be angry about.

Someone hurt him? He attributed it to a consequence of human nature, as something he needed to be ready for, hence why he was so angry with himself. Someone is arguing with him? His pent-up frustration bubbles and seeps through, since he feels his logic and way of function being questioned and subsequently threatened. It actually makes sense.

He feels wronged, but he’s not letting himself admit it and he won’t let anyone make him doubt himself. Even if they’re arguing about something completely unrelated to the matters that are actually bothering him.

The images behind the human switched from a boy being held against the wall by his chest, the knight sporting a rather cross look on his face and being pulled back by an adult similarly clad in armor, to a scene in a dark building. A blond young man in humble clothing kneeling down, hands tied behind his back, in front of a dark-haired man in elaborate, rich clothing, not too much older than the former, holding the other's chin up by the tip of his sword. It wasn’t hard to distinguish who was who.

The human in our presence took the liberty of explaining what we were seeing. Not moving. Not giving away a thing. Just... standing there and telling his tale.

"He didn't need any reason to hold back. Being king, he had no fear of repercussion, since it would’ve been the most horrible crime conceivable to strike back at him. To hurt the king is to hurt the entire kingdom, after all. And he took full advantage of that fact."

'Untie him.' the dark-haired man said. Afterwards, two soldiers came forward to fulfill the given order.

'Now give him a sword.' the royal continued, enjoying every moment as he slowly brought his terrified adversary up with the sharp tip against his jowl.

"He only needed to remember who I was upon being brought to him. He had all the right in the world to do as he pleased."

'Defend yourself.' the king voiced out moments before attacking fiercely, giving barely any time for his adversary to parry.

"I had all my life to remember that day. Maybe he just wanted to scare me? Maybe he only wanted to hurt me non-lethally? Maybe he just wanted me to prove my right to talk back at him. Still, the conceit and cruelty was clearly visible in his features. It didn't matter either way. At the time, what was clear was how he was going all out, actively trying to kill me during his 'honorable' duel."

Throughout the clearly one-sided match, the king sliced at his adversary's arm, then struck the sword out of the dream-self’s hands soon afterwards.

'Pathetic.' the royal said to the kneeling and defeated memory-self. 'Are you supposed to be one of my warriors?' He spit at him in disgust. 'Weaklings like you only hinder the rest of us.'

He brought back his blade to strike him down. I could feel Tia gathering magic in her horn instinctively, which came with a small feeling of surprise coming forth from our storyteller.

'No!' shouted the young necromancer in fear, holding his hand out defensively. As the metal sliced through his hand, hilting between the bones, dark energy erupted forward, knocking the king back.

Everyone was stunned, including the young necromancer.

'Kill him!' ordered the king, and his soldiers obliged.

"It was no small miracle that I got out of the barracks alive that day," he concluded as the images showed him running past the still stunned guards, some of them running after him, others backpedalling away from him, and still others going for their crossbows instead. He managed to reach a corridor, running past windows until he chose one and jumped, tumbling off the cliffside once with a sickening crack of bones, into the river they used as a moat, where he was taken by the current. "It helped that fortresses are generally built to effectively keep invaders out, not to keep any desperate escapees in."

I and my sister both let out breaths we didn't know we were holding. "But you survived. Didn't you run?" I asked.

"I did,” was his answer. ”I ran and hid throughout the whole kingdom afterwards. That was all that I could do for the rest of my life."

"What happened next?" I asked again.

He remained deathly still. Up til now he maintained his breathing rythm, even though it was unnecessary to breathe in here. Now, however, he was as still as a statue. He wasn’t thinking of anything, otherwise we’d hear his thoughts. He was struggling to process something, as if incapable. Like a fish trying to fly.

He sent out anger in the beginning, when Tia decided to cut him off, but now? No one argued with him. No one challenged his way of thinking. He wasn’t angry, he was just tired.

His next words evidenced that state. "After that, my family was killed."

He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t sad. And no, he was not indifferent. He was just accepting.