“Open your eyes.”

My ears twitched at that voice. There was no mistaking it or who it belonged to. And no matter the years since I heard it last, I couldn’t help but feel compelled to obey. And I did.

I could scarcely believe my eyes.

Before me, a giant blue and green ball floated amid an immense canvas of black that was only broken by far-off, flickering specks of light. Around its edges, I could see the glowing halo of the sun, shining brightly on the other side. On the surface, I recognized the landmass of Equestria. Then Griffonia. And Minos. It all just kept going onwards to lands that I didn’t know existed.

But as awe-inspiring as it was, another thought gripped me.

I was on the moon.

I picked up some of the crumbly, ashy powder beneath my hooves, and watched float back down. Craters marred the surface--some seemed from impacts. Others, the charred edges told of magic blasts. And all around me, as far as I could see, more of the vast blackness stretching out in every direction with only the stars to measure how far it reached.

I stared, frozen as I tried to grasp at just how big it all was.

And failing that, I felt smaller than I ever had before.

“Beautiful, is it not?” her voice came again.

I swiveled sharply, bowing before Nightmare Moon. While my allegiance to her was strained for obvious reasons, I was clearly in her domain and after our last parting, I preferred to remain on her good side.

She snorted. “Cease your foolishness and rise. We have precious little time for such frivolity.”

I rose, dusted myself off, and got my first real look at the nocturne regent in eight years.

And frankly, not much had changed.

She still carried herself with the same sort of vainglorious pride as she had before, despite the layers of moon dust that had imbedded itself in her coat, muting its colors with a chalky layer of grime. Her once gleaming and perfect armor now hung from her frame, some more loosely in areas than others. Gaping holes and dents marred the metal where Celestia had clearly gotten a few hits in.

All in all, she looked a defeated mare, except for the dangerous glint in her eye. The kind of glint that said this was just a detour, and that she’d pull a winning move in the end no matter what. It was the same kind of look general had when they’d order their troops to charge over and over again, with nothing but casualties to show for it.

I found it hard to respect, much less follow, anypony that failed to learn from their errors. So to say that I was disappointed that her defeat and time here hadn’t imposed some measure of humility or reflection in her would be an understatement.

I opened my mouth; she held up a hoof. “Do not speak. To make this simple, you died.” She placed a hoof over my chest where her horn had lanced me. “Through our bond, I brought you here for a moment so that we talk,” she said.

I resisted the urge to scratch at where the crossbow bolts struck me. I could still feel the phantom tingle of them under my skin.

“I did so because I need you to do two things for me, and in return, I shall grant you a boon. The kind of power legends are made of.” She stared down her muzzle at me, waiting.

I said nothing, and flicked an ear upright, signaling that I was listening. While I could typically scoff at anypony trying to tempt me with something as vague as power, I was something of a believer when it came to what Nightmare Moon could do.

A ghost of a smile flickered across her lips. “The tasks are simple. I need you to deliver a message to my dear sister. And the second is to live long and well.”

...what…? I cocked an eyebrow. “Is that it?”

Her eyes sized me up, a playful grin—if it could be called such a thing—grew on her lips as she weighed my question. “For now, it will do. In return, I will grant you dominion over the shadows. In the darkness, they will heal any wound, and allow you passage through them. With practice they can even become your sword and shield.” Her smile became wider as inky blackness sprung forth from the end of her hoof, washing over her body forming plated armor as it went. It reached her wings, transforming into ebony blades along the crest before dissipating back into a vaporous ball resting in her hoof.

I looked at the mass of shadows proffered before me. It was tempting, but...I needed to know something else first.

“Why power?” I asked. “Why not undo what you did to me before? Have me deliver you message and release from this life?”

“You wish to truly die?” Her smile grew cold. “I give you a gift that thousands have sought for, and you wish to return it?” She snorted and gave a stomp of her hoof, the black ball splashing out around her. “You know not what you ask, nor would I grant it. Every second you are alive on Equestria, is another that I grow stronger. You are a conduit of power and I will not surrender you.

“Now, I cannot hold you here much longer. Will you be my herald and accept my boon, or shall you wallow in pain for the next century while you are made whole again?”

I scowled as a whirlwind of questions raged in my head.

A conduit of her power? How did that work? Was I just some sort of magical energy siphon walking around? And just what strings did she have attached to me?

“Choose now,” she said. The aura surrounding her horn grew brighter as my vision started to fade.

“Fine.” I spat. “What’s your message?”

That damnable smile of hers flashed, knowing that she’d gotten her way. “On the longest day of the thousandth year…”

I gasped as I shot up, taking greedy gulps of air into my lungs. Around my third gasp I stopped as the foul taste of death danced on my tongue. Decomposing corpses in varying states sat around me, a black mass of flies swarming their bodies.

I swat at the ones buzzing around me and tried to stand up. My hoof suddenly gave way beneath me as it plunged through the rotted abdomen of the pony beneath me. My stomach churned as I recognized his face. I didn’t know him well, only seeing him from afar, but that didn’t change much. All around me, more and more faces and features stood out.

That one I hauled a cart with one time.

She, I gave an apple to.

A griffon with an owlish face and dark-flecked, white plumage. A single, clean stab wound through her chest. I closed my eyes.

I didn’t want to see anymore.

I dry heaved as I extracted my hoof, trying to ignore the sensation of his putrefied organs clinging and squirming around my hoof; the slimy feel of his skin. I tried to ignore the smell and the noise it made. I was just about free when I felt another hoof begin to slip down between two others.

Instinctively, I gave my wings a powerful flap, tearing me away and depositing me on the bank of the mass grave. I had been so long without them, I’d forgotten I had them. I wiped at my fetlock, at my legs and coat, trying to get the congealed blood—and I didn’t want to know what else—off me. It only seemed to make things worse, smearing them down further into my coat where I could feel the grotesque sludge against my skin. My nose burned as the sickly sweet smell clung to me.

Unable to contain it any longer, I gagged, and hurled the empty contents of my stomach. It just kept coming.

A gentle hoof pat me on the back as I gagged, spit, and emptied some more. “Come on Wax. There’s a pond over this way.” I couldn’t place it, but she almost sounded relieved.

I nodded as Orchid led me from the site, as Nightmare Moon’s words echoed in my ears.

Orchid was incredibly patient as I scrubbed myself down vigorously in the shallows. The water might have washed away the putridness, but without soap, it couldn’t remove the smell, only weaken it. By this point though, my nose was slowly becoming more accustomed to the scent.

Deciding I was as clean as I was going to get, I slogged my way back up the bank and shook. Orchid blinked as the cascade of water rushed at her, only to pass through her.

“Feel better?” she remarked dryly.

I gave my wings a flap and held them open, letting them air out. “You have no idea.”

I had missed my wings so much.

She hmmed and stepped closer to me looking me over before engulfing me in a hug. “Don’t scare me like that!” she chastised. “They carried your body out and paraded it about, but your soul wasn’t with it.” Her grip tightened. “Do you have any idea how scary that was? I thought I lost you. That somehow you were gone forever, and I was trapped here.”

I wrapped a wing around her, as she began to shake. “Hey, I’m here now.” I rubbed her back. “I’m here now.”

“But where did you go?” she asked.

I sighed and explained everything that happened on my lunar visit. She seemed to calm down some as I finished, but was still clearly shaken.

“Waxing, promise me one thing. Never do that again.” She wrapped her neck around mine. “I can’t go through being alone again. Not like that.”

“Okay.” I said, and stroked her mane. “I promise.” If Nightmare Moon wanted to talk, she’d have to find another way to do it.

I rested my muzzle in her withers. Sometimes, Orchid seemed the strongest mare I knew. Other times, she was so fragile, the slightest breeze could shatter her.

In the end, I guess we all needed to be held once in a while and told everything will be okay.

She gave me a tight squeeze and let go. “Good. I’ll hold you to that.” Her confidence seemed to slip back into place with a small smile. “So what’s the plan now?”

I cracked my neck. “I settle some unfinished business, then we go home.” She face hoofed as I flapped my wings and took off towards the hellhole that had been my home for the past three years. I was fully cognizant that I could just leave for Equestria and forget this place--assuming I could forget it--but that didn’t sit well with me. Somepony had to put an end it, and it happened to fall at my hooves to do so.

The walls marking the camp stood tall above the landscape. From what I knew, there were only two gates in and out. The first let out to the land, and the other opened to the harbor to allow their ships passage. Considering the size, the fact that the entire fortress was made of stone impressed me.

I reviewed the knowledge Nightmare Moon placed in my head. It was kind of strange honestly. It some ways, it was like I’d known all my life how to slip into the shadows, or to become a vaporous mist that could seep through the smallest of cracks. That I could pull the shadows from their realm and arm myself with them, molding them to my will. At the same time though, it was all completely foreign as memories I never had, of things I’d never done, flickered through my mind.

What it all boiled down to was, while understood what to do, it’d take some trial and error before I could do it well enough to use it in a fight.

For now though, I figured I would manage without my newfound talents. Despite the rude return from the grave, I felt better than I had in years. No longer was I emaciated or broken, as whatever magic Nightmare Moon had used, restored me entirely. My wings were regrown, carrying me through the air strong and steady as ever. My fangs jut from under my lip, sharp and gleaming. Nary a scar from whips or chains marred my back. I felt like a younger stallion filled with vigor and energy. And with that, my former apathy was gone, and my thirst for vengeance was back.

Seeing the sentry post on the wall, I fell into a sharp dive. Pulling my wings out at the last second, I landed on top of the griffon stationed there. He crumpled. Judging by the bend in his spine, he wasn’t getting back up.

“Wuh? Hey!”

I turned to face the remaining sentry, only to hear the familiar thwack of a crossbow firing.

I won’t lie. Whether the first time, or the fourth time, getting shot by one of those damn things hurt.

I grunted as the bolt buried itself in my chest, hot lances of pain shooting from the area as my breath caught. Then just as quickly, a cool sensation of mist deadened the pain. I looked around, thinking Orchid was doing that thing she did, only to see her floating a few yards away. Confused, I looked down at the shaft. Smoke-like tendrils writhed about it until it fell to the ground, the half of it that was embedded in me cut clean off. The dark energies swarmed about the wound, knitting it back together until there was nothing left. Not even a blemish on my coat.

“W-wuh?” the sentry stammered, his talons fumbling with weapon trying to reload it faster.

I looked up at him, a malevolent grin exposing my fangs.

He never got to scream.

None of them did.

Out the window, the moon as hanging low in the sky with probably no more than a few more minutes of nighttime left. Admittedly, I had probably taken more time dealing with his minions than I should have, but after dealing with the abuse for so long, it felt good to unleash on my tormentors. To stalk them one by one in the safety of their fortress, savoring the smell of their fear as they realized they were no longer the top of the proverbial food chain. To watch the terror on their face grow as my wounds disappeared before their very eyes.

It had really helped sate my anger and clear my head in preparation for confronting Gunter. Several tortures and punishments for him had played through my head all night, some certainly more grotesque that others. To take him the pit I had come from and force him to eat carrion until he died, having tasted the fruits of his labors. Or to hang him from the walls using his entrails for rope.

In the end though, I decided on a different route entirely.

It was exceptionally quiet in the room, save for the regular intake and exhale of breath as the griffon rested in his bed. I noted that, despite being married to Gertie, not a trace of her presence was to be found. From the decor, to the furniture, to the long sword hanging on the wall, they boasted of Gunter’s personality.

Reaching up on my hindlegs, I pulled the sword down from the wall. It hardly made a hiss as I withdrew it from its scabbard and looked it over, pausing at the Griffic script etched in the blade.

Subjugator

I scoffed. Of course he’d name his sword that. Despite it’s unfortunate name, it truly was a beautiful piece of work and the smith who made it clearly knew their craft. I slipped the blade back into its scabbard and slung it over back, letting it rest between my wings before tightening the straps to secure it. While no set of wingblades, but it was as good a weapon as I was probably going to get. Sure it was a little more awkward to handle, but Luna had been through in her training, and I was confident in its use.

I looked around, studying the room for anything else of use. My eyes narrowed on the bedpost, where a coiled whip hung. I removed it, feeling the leather against my frog. I hated it. I hated everything it stood for. But tonight, maybe it could serve my purposes. Unlike the sword, I’d never swung a whip before in my life. But having been around it for so long, I think I had the idea down by now.

Ready, I faced the bed.

“Get up.”

In the dead silence of the room, my voice boomed. Gunter cracked an eye, staring at me a second before a thin smile appeared on his lips. “Go haunt somegriffon else.” He chortled before rolling over and going back to sleep.

I swung and the whip flew, snapping with a crack against his back; a bloody tear appearing the sheet. He yelped and fell from the bed.

“Boo.” I said. “Now get up!”

Gunter rose to his feet, shaking, as his eyes stared bewildered. “I-”

The whip cut him off, a red streak appearing across his neck. He couldn’t hold back the tears forming in his eyes.

“Shut up. I didn’t say ‘talk’.” I glared at him and I pointed towards the door. “Now move.”

He stood rooted to the spot, glaring back at me defiantly until I gave him some more “incentive”. The same kind he’d delivered to so many others before.

Down the hallways we went. Though he may have been in front, he was certainly not in the lead. At each intersection, I’d direct him which way to turn until we reached the doors to the courtyard. Beyond them, several hundred voices could be heard.

“Open it.” I commanded.

He did nothing, his eyes glued to the door. “No.”

I raised my hoof and let the cursed whip fly again. He hissed, but still stood there.

“If you’re going to kill me, then do it here.” He couldn’t keep the waver from his voice entirely. “But I will not be made a spectacle.”

I snorted. “Really? Is that so?” In smooth movement, I pulled the sword from my back in my teeth. In a low arc, I brought it against the back of his rear legs, severing the tendons and muscles.

His butt collapsed on the ground, his ability to support its weight removed. This time he did cry out.

I sheathed the sword. Stepping close behind him, I leaned down close next to his head. “Your words fall upon the same deaf ears that our cries did. How many times has somepony begged you to stop? Pleaded for mercy or a quick death? How many!?” I screamed.

He did not answer as his chest began to quiver, his breathing becoming hurried as panic set in.

I shoved him forward to the ground. “You know, I thought you enjoyed this sort of thing. I can’t recall how many times you’d stand about…here.” I stepped where he could see me. “Yeah. Right here. And you’d laugh, and smile, and act like you were having the time of your life.”

Seeing a hook on the wall, I hung the whip on it. I wanted to be as far away for that thing as possible. “You just think about that when no matter how loud you scream, or how much you cry, or how pitiful you look, the pain keeps coming. That no matter what, your suffering will not reach the hearts you hardened.”

I let out a shrill whistle and the doors were opened. Beyond it, my fellow slaves and captives filled the yard and stood on the walls, their voices becoming a roar at the sight of doors opening. I blinked in the brightness of the first rays of dawn.

“Now go forth harvester, and reap what you have sown.” I beckoned the griffons who opened the doors to come forward.

None too gently, they bound and gagged him with ropes, and hauled Gunter out; ass dragging, leaving twin streaks of blood on the floor in his wake. The cries and jeers of the crowd grew louder as he was brought to the sandy center between two whipping posts. They tied his forelegs high on the poles so that he was left hanging, his entire weight supported by his shoulders.

Turning back, one of the handlers gave me a nod, and I walked out.

This time, the crowd cheered as I made my way to the sand pit. There before them all, it was deafening. Some were crying, others smiling like they hadn’t in years. Those closest reached out, touching me as I passed. Over the din, I’d catch snippets.

“Guardian”

“King”

“I love you”

“Champion”

I wasn’t quite sure how to deal with some of those, but smiled nonetheless. As I looked around, I saw mostly ponies and griffons, but I would catch glimpses of other species. Zebras. Minotaurs. A donkey or two. Cows and goats. I even think I saw a deer, though I could’ve been mistaken.

I reached the sand pit and raised a wing. The crowd fell silent.

“Thank you.” I announced, looking all around making eye contact with as many as I could. “Today, you are free!”

They cheered louder than before, the roar of their voices thundering in my chest. The joy at those four words alone was a tangible force.

I let this go on for a bit before raising my wing again, signaling for silence. “However, before we all scatter to the winds, making the long journeys back to our homelands, there are few matters to attend to.

“As the living, we must tend to the fallen. There are many of us who did not live to see this day, and who now lie in an open pit just beyond these walls. I dare not demand your time, or labor. I merely ask that each of you would join me in burying them, and to always remember them as we leave this place behind us.”

I moved on before the solemn mood could settle. “But first, there is something else we must do. Something we must decide.” I pointed down at Gunter’s head, the rope around his beak muffling his words. “We are all here because of this griffon.” I unsheathed the sword, putting its tip to Gunter’s throat. “I admit, my judgement is already made, having been clouded and stained by the years I’ve spent here.” I pressed, drawing a speck of blood. “But I am not the only one who has suffered his abuses. Perhaps, not even the worst of them.” I sighed, and withdrew the blade with a flick, cutting away the gag about his mouth, and returned it to its place on my back.

“I have already carved my pound of flesh and so I leave the decision to each of you, individually. If you have it within you to forgive, and walk away, then I applaud you. You are far kinder and far better than I.”

I paused, picking up a rock from the ground. “And to those, like me, who cannot stand to see such misdeeds go unpunished-”

I hurled the rock at Gunter’s face, catching him in the eye.

I ignored his curses and turned back to the crowd. “I leave the choice to you.”

I took off with a flap of my wings. Less than a second later, volleys of stones descended on Gunter; his wails and hollering drowned in the voices of the crowd. I landed up above on a parapet, taking a moment to scratch at a faint itch on my flank that had been bothering me during my speech. As I did, I watched the rocks pile up as Gunter thrashed, my last words to him ringing through my head.

Go forth harvester, and reap what you have sown.

I didn’t know where those words had come from. I’d said them because they felt right. But now reflecting on them, and turning them on myself and all I had done tonight, I couldn’t help but wonder what I would reap in turn.

Author's Notes:

Well, I suppose you could say I've gone and made Waxing a full fledged demigod now. Don't worry though, alicorn Waxing Crescent will never happen.

Also, I promise to try and get back to the cute and fluffy family scenes. This dark tone is just oppressive.

Up next: Canterlot

Lately, I've become more and more dissatisfied with my style of writing. It feels like it's missing something. If you have any ideas, I am more than open to criticism so leave your thoughts in the comments!