A tall and voluptuous prime succubus, unspoiled by the ravages of her kin or others, moved at a measured pace down oppressive stone and iron corridors. They were a far cry from the lavish and decadent architecture of her native Second Circle but she expected nothing less from the capitol tower of the Fifth Circle. Clutched against her bust were scrolls of cured skin containing maps of the world above as requested by her new mistress; a fiend somehow more vile than the notoriously depraved Cleo. She came to the doors of Her Infernal Majesty's inner sanctuary flanked on both sides by a pair of hulking demons, each one a mountain of rippling muscle and stoic stature. They regarded the smaller demoness, not with the lust she was accustomed to but a smoldering rage.

“Her Majesty has requested these.” The mauve succubus indicated the maps. “She is expecting me.”

The guardians just grunted before one rapped a ham-sized fist against the door. A clattering crash followed by muffled cursing answered. It took a moment for the occupant inside to vocalize a proper response.

“What is it?!” The harsh voice was accompanied by a blast of heat that caused the warped doors and walls to shift patterns. "Why do you interrupt?!"

“The demonette is back, Your Highness.” The brute rumbled like a broken boiler. "She brought maps."

"Oh! Excellent." The voice simmered down along with the doors. "Do send her in."

The brute demons pulled the heavy doors open just enough for the lithe succubus to slip through. On a whim, she tried adding a sensuous sway to her hips to provoke some type of reaction from the bodyguards but earned only a disinterested snort. The disappointed displaced demonette entered the private study and the doors shut behind her with a heavy boom. The room was a mess of scattered parchments, ominous tomes and other such items needed for infernal plots. Seated behind a large mahogany desk was the Hierarch of Hell Corona Blaze herself with an old map of the Fields of Punishment spread out before her. Unlike her public appearance, the Infernal Queen had elected to forgo her regal attire in favor of bare fur. The light from her blazing inferno of a mane provided enough illuminated for the demonette to see she was planning a direct assault on the Brass Gates.

“From Ixion to Nippone and everywhere in between.” The succubus said plainly as she approached. "As you requested, mistress."

"Good." The sunburn pink Alicorn said without looking up. "Set them right there...what was your name again?"

"Xi'vili." The lust demon answered. "If that is all, mistress, I shall take my leave."

"Not so fast." Corona said curtly. "Stay awhile, Xi. I need a sycophant to bounce ideas off of."

"As you wish." The prime demonette returned to the desk and stood at attention with her claws clasped behind her back.

"Now, we are off to a good start." The fiery fiend mused aloud. "Word of our exodus is out and our numbers continue to swell."

"Willing or otherwise." Xi muttered.

It was no secret that Corona was planning an exodus of Tartarus. In fact, she did not want it to remain a secret which is why she made a point of rising the ire of Minos, Cleo and the like to get the word out. She knew the Pits well enough that even the tiniest whisper of escape would attract demons and inmates from Limbo all the way to the Malbolge to her like moths to an open flame. There was a considerable downside to this, however.

“No doubt the Dark Lord and his slaves are aware of us.” The hellish horse glanced at an artistic representation of their oppressor. “If he doesn't marshall his forces against us, he may deign to visit himself.”

"It would be best if it does not." The demonette warned. "I only know him by reputation but that alone may be enough to unnerve some."

The Overlord of the Underworld, known by many names in the Infernal Pits as none dared speak his true name aloud, was a considerable hurdle to overcome. While she and most of the freshest inmates have never laid eyes on the Dread Lord, the elder demons told tales in fearful tones of how he used to trot among them, a veritable titan among insects. Nowadays, no one has seen so much as a hair of him. Speculation suggested that the ancient king had retired to his citadel in Asphodel after some cataclysm had befallen the mortal world and now delegated to his armies of implacable revenants.

“He could be in ill health for all we know and the Undying are just keeping up the masquerade to keep us in line.” Corona huffed as she returned her attention to the maps. “If so, it will just be a matter of knocking down a paper tiger and I can add an Immortal Throne to my Infernal one.”

"One can hope." Xi sighed.

Deposing or, better yet, usurping the Dark Lord would give the hellions a solid power base for their real target: the Overworld of the Living. Corona could not help but smirk as her twisted mind began to fantasize about what exactly she had in store for the feckless little mortals and the small group of immortals that ruled them. She had something particularly nasty planned for the Solar Alicorn.

“Hehehaha... I can already picture the look on her face as her world turns to ash around her.” The Alicorn chuckled in sadistic glee. “But I’m getting ahead of myself.”

"First things first." The succubus continued her thought. "An army needs a general; a queen needs a champion."

Imagining global conquest was one thing. Actually doing it was another thing entirely, particularly since she was still in the first stages of her grand design. There was only one last thing required before she could proceed to stage two. As much as the damned mare relished the rush of battle, engaging in one-on-one combat with a powerful foe was what had led to her current residence. To avoid that end, Corona dispatched an indebted minion to find what she had determined to be a perfect candidate. It dawned on her that said agent had been silent for far longer than she was comfortable with.

“That patchwork goat has all the loyalty of a snake.” The Alicorn murmured venomously. “Best make sure he hasn’t gotten any bright ideas.”

"Very good, mistress." Xi responded automatically.

Corona closed her slitted amethyst eyes and ignited her horn. Through her infernal magic, she reached out across the Circles in search of her agent. A fiery orb manifested before her over the table displaying a chaotic array of images. The Hierarch of Hell keyed in on her agent and focused.

“Almost…there! Finally!” The malevolent mare was greeted with the humorous sight of a blue ram attempting to free his leg from the ravenous mouth of a glutton. “Grogar! Heed your queen!”

"Ohh~ Nice horns." The demonette whispered approvingly under her breath.

The bellringer managed to extract his now saliva coated limb from the bloated creature and spitefully kicked it into a cesspit. It took him a moment to determine where her voice was coming from before he answered.

“Oh, your Highness!” Grogar bowed his head in greeting. “I didn’t expect-“

“Status report.” Corona cut him off briskly, not in the mood for flattery at the moment. “Now.”

“I’ve popped a seam or two but-“ The ram began.

“Not you!” The Alicorn flared up again in ill temper. “The centaur!”

“Oh, Tirek’s managing.” The goat-lord turned to show the crimson sorcerer standing on an osseous protrusion, scanning the foul yellow horizon of the Third Circle along with a zebra. “We ran into some trouble with Cleo but nothing we couldn't handle. We also picked up a zebra bard named Zeb. Said he worked with you before.”

“He has.” The queen confirmed as her assistant's expression soured. "I thought the Somnambulian had him killed but no matter. If he survives, I'm sure I'll find further use for him."

"Y-yes, of course." Grogar agreed hesitantly as the view returned to him. "We're somewhere in Gluttony right now. We'll get to you as soon as we can."

"Excellent." The queen nodded. “Make sure Tirek makes it to Pandemonium in one piece. He is key to my plans.”

“We’ve made it this far.” Grogar assured her. “Not about to quit now.”

“See that you don’t.” Corona said darkly. “You know what will happen if you fail.”

The hellish Alicorn’s eyes glowed malignantly as the bells adorning the ram began to vibrate in a discordant drone, visibly paining their owner as smoke began to seep through his many seams. It was a not so friendly reminder of just how much power she held over him. With but a thought, she could reduce his fabricated body to ash and therefore trap his soul in whatever Circle he was currently in. Once the ruler of Tartarus was sure her little minion got the point, she released her hold.

“Do hurry, Grogar.” Corona said dismissively as she dispelled the communication spell. “Oh, and mind the Worm while you are up there.”

The fiery orb winked out of existence and Corona went back to her nefarious planning. She was about to bounce another thought off the demonette when another knock on her door interrupted her.

“What now?” The Infernal Queen called out.

“The Soulsmith is here.” One of the demonic bouncers answered.

“Oh!" The malevolent mare's mood brightened in an instant. "Send him in, quickly!”

The iron doors parted and in shuffled a most peculiar creature. Clad in a blood red robe that concealed all but a single piercing eye, the mechanical monster trudged into her quarters and bowed its head with a whirr of hidden gears.

“Greetings, Queen Corona of Pandemonium.” The Soulsmith droned with a metallic echo. “The project you have commissioned is complete.”

With a click and a grind, the mech-demon extended its claws out of his long sleeves. Held between them was a perfect cube, black as the void and inscribed with runes far beyond any mortal understanding. The Alicorn archfiend broke into a fanged smile as she gingerly took the item from its creator. While the box was a masterpiece of demonic craftsmanship, what it contained was far more impressive and diabolical.

“The doom of the world above in the sole of my hoof.” Corona all but purred as she felt the dark power pulsating within. “Your work is beyond measure, Soulsmith.”

“Thank you, your Highness.” The metal horror clicked. “I only ask for the succubae I was promised in return.”

"What?" A look of horror crossed Xi's features.

“Yes, yes. Of course.” The Queen of Hell ignored her and waved him off, not taking her eyes off the box. “They’re in the bordello downstairs.”

"And this one?" The fabricated fiend's piercing eye fell on the lone demonette who visibly recoiled.

"That one's mine." Corona said absently. "I figured I'd keep one for myself. The others are yours."

Satisfied, the Soulsmith rotated in place and shuffled out the door to collect his compensation. Corona placed the cube on her desk with the maps and continued to marvel at its design. Once the doors closed behind the mech-demon, it was all the Hierarch's secretary could do to not tear her face off.

"You brought us out of Lust just to pawn us off to that creature?" Xi asked aghast.

"That was his price." The Infernal Queen stated matter-of-factually as she finally glanced up to see her assistant staring at her in disbelief. "Smile, Xi. Their sacrifices will be worth it before long and we will finally see the light of day again."

"Before snuffing it out, I'm sure." The demoness forced a smile on her face even as the loss of her kin stoked the fires of vengeance in her core.

"Yes." Corona grinned. "You're excused for now. I'll summon you if I need anything more."

Xi'vili forced herself to bow her head and left the Alicorn's chambers without another word. The fiery Queen paid her no mind as she caressed the black cube with a hoof. With another element of her Grand Exodus in her possession, all that remained was for the fallen goat-lord of Tambelon to deliver the crimson sorcerer to her.

“So Tirek is the only one she needs while the rest of us are disposable. Upstart bitch. ” Grogar grumbled angrily once he was positive that his high and mighty superior had severed the communication link. “Even in Hell, I can’t rid myself of these accursed Alicorns. Her new assistant was a looker though.”

"You doing alright, G?" Zeb called out from behind him as he approached. "You took off in a hurry."

"Ugh... just a little nauseous." The bell-ringer covered with an uneasy sway for effect. "I can't get over this stench."

"True that." The zebra agreed. "I'd suggest breathing through your mouth but..."

The bard trailed off as he gestured to the foul weather. Grogar nodded in agreement as the two of them trotted back to where Tirek was surveying the hellscape. Along the way, Zeb hummed a tune to himself.

"Working on your next ballad?" The goat-lord asked casually.

"Our ballad." The bard corrected with a smirk. "Three brave souls traversing the Circles of Tartarus in hope of freedom? I can think of nothing more worthy of a song."

"Care to share a few bars?" The bell-ringer requested.

"Eh, I'm still working on it and it would sound much better if I had a guitar or lute or something." Zeb made to rub his chin but thought better of it when he remembered what he was trotting in. "Can you give me a beat?"

*Ding...Da-Ding-ding*

Grogar complied with a rhythmic shake of his head. The bard matched his timing and muttered a few lines before he started.

"♪Oh, this is a story all about how three brave souls flipped Hell upside down/If you got a minute, just take a seat and I'll tell you how a goat, centaur and zebra ran wild on those burning streets♫." The zebra began brightly. "♪Up in Lust, I was hanging by a thread all because Cleo can't give any head/Big T was chilling all crammed in a cell while G was stewing down in the Lower Hells♫...that's about all I got right now. These things take time."

"I like what you got so far." The blue ram said encouragingly. "And here I thought you were the only zebra who couldn't rhyme."

"Rhyme? Ahh haha. I totally forgot about that." Zeb shook his head with a chuckle. "Nah, the rhyming thing is some hoodoo the high priests cooked up. It's supposed to make us zebras appear all 'mystical' and 'otherworldly' to you solid-coats. I'm probably breaking all types of traditions just by talking to you but what are those mutha-fuckers going to do? I'm already in Hell."

"Take it from me, it can always get worse." Grogar warned. "So how did you end up down here anyway, if you don't mind me asking."

"It's fine, G. You see, Zebrica is or was traditionalist by nature and the elders, chiefs and priestly types did not approve of deviants such as a handsome stallion with a steel-string." The zebra recalled with clear resentment. "I would roll into town, attract a crowd, gain a few fine honeys to spend the night with and then eventually be ran out. It wasn't easy but I liked it that way."

"I think I know where this is going." The bell-ringer inferred. "You angered the wrong zebra?"

"That's right." The bard nodded. "I had just played a show and was giving the 'D' to this beautiful mare, I'm talking legs that went on for days and an ass that could crush diamonds when her daddy came a'knocking. Turned out he was the Grand Poobah of the city and she was promised to some limp-dick lordling. I wound up down here fast than I could say 'alimony'."

"You're lucky he didn't maim you first." The ram winced. "A father's wrath can be...brutal."

"Well, he did knock me around first." Zeb admitted. "So what about you? What's up with all those stitches?"

"Uhh...I picked a fight I could not win." Grogar answered guardedly.

“One would think someone who eats tin cans would have a stronger stomach.” Tirek called down from his perch, saving the goat lord from having to explain further.

“That’s just a rude stereotype, Red.” The ram bleated as he and Zeb joined their companion atop the ossified protrusion. “We don’t eat the cans, just nibble a little.”

“Hmph.” The centaur grunted as he pointed to a stout structure atop a mound of oozing flesh like an infected piercing. "Now, if I'm not mistaking, that is our destination."

“I do believe it is.” Grogar agreed. “I must say, we made excellent time.”

"Out in the open without a tower on top." Zeb noticed. "So who exactly rules this Circle of rot?"

As if to answer his question, the cadaverous ground surrounding the distant exit bulged out as something massive slithered beneath the surface. A colossal tatzlwurm, bloated from eons of gorging itself on the gluttonous shades of the dead, breached in a shower of foul blood and pus. The Worm’s deafening roar echoed across the hellscape as it arched through the air onto an unfortunate pack of shades, it’s volumetric mouth wide open with lashing tongues ensnaring all those who futilely attempted to flee. The Worm dove back into the filth with its latest morsels, vanishing underground just as fast as it had appeared. The three stared slack-jawed at the spectacle.

“Oh well. We tried.” Grogar turned around and started back the way he came only to be stopped by Tirek grabbing his tail.

“You know we have to cross.” The centaur said regrettably.

“But…” Words failed the normally erudite zebra as he pantomimed being eaten by an eternally ravenous abomination. “…how?”

“Same way I got past it the first time.” The warlock explained. “We take it slow. Make as little noise as possible which means nothing above a whisper.”

“Which means I’ll have to mute these.” A slightly more confident Grogar indicated his precious bells. “Might as well be dinner bells. Obliviously no humming from you, Stripes.”

The bard made a zipping motion across his lips in compliance with the plan. Tirek used as much of his meager magic as he dared to muffle their hoof falls while Grogar smeared filth onto the clappers of his accouterments. With precise and careful steps, the trio made their way out into the open flesh fields.

“The beast just fed.” The filth-encrusted bellringer whispered. “So we should have a few minutes before it begins hunting again.”

“At the very least we will hear and see it coming.” The crimson hermit concurred. “Watch for worm sign.”

"We should also stay away from groups of shades." Zeb added quietly. "I don't think they've realized that the damn thing hunts by sound."

Step by agonizing step, they drew closer to the looming structure. Every groan of torment from the shades or wet squelch sounded like a cacophony to the creeping trio. At even the slightest rumble or bulge in the ground, they froze still as statues. The tongues of the great worm emerged some distance away, thrashing about blindly in search of their next meal. The wizards and bard held their breath until the boneless limbs retreated back beneath the churning wastes.

“I think it knows something is up here.” Grogar breathed as they resumed their snail-paced trek.

“Just don’t panic.” Tirek whispered back. “We’re almost there.”

This pattern of trot, freeze, resume continued like a demonic game of red light/green light. The frequency of the Worm’s appearances increased as it grew frustrated with the elusive meal. At one point, it exploded out of the ground and began biting at everything within reach. The three were fortunately out of range but the monster was getting closer each time it broke the surface. After what felt like an eternity, they reached the tetanus infected hill which their goal was built upon: the Hellevator to the Fourth Circle. At this distance, they could see it was made up of rusted metal and bolted into the very flesh of Gluttony. Smoke rose out of the small construct like a chimney, intermixed with the storm of sewage above.

“That elevator better work.” Tirek muttered as he began to climb the hill. “I don’t want to-“

*CRUNCH*

The centaur looked behind him to find Zeb had just crushed a skull buried in the muck. A chill of dread shot up his spine as the telltale rumble manifested beneath them.

“Shit! Move!” Grogar dropped all pretenses of stealth and scrambled up the cyst hill with his partners following suit.

The Worm burst from the ground, its jaws snapping shut where the three were just seconds ago. It followed the sounds of fleeing hooves and dragged itself along the surface, its many tongues snapping at the traveler's heels. With the rancid breath of all-consuming doom hot on his back, Tirek galloped past his companions into the metal construct, silently begging for the rusted iron to be strong enough to deter the beast. Grogar and Zeb crossed the threshold just as the tatzlwurm’s mighty jaws snapped shut around the ancient iron. The rusted supports groaned in protest but ultimately held but they did not stop the beast’s seeking tongues. The ram had one hoof on the platform to take them down to the next circle when one of the limbs seized his hind leg and began to drag him back. Zeb grabbed his friend by the horns and desperately tried to tear him free only to be dragged along as well. The two of them were pulled closer and closer to the Worm’s teeth–filled maw and the seemingly bottomless gullet beyond until Tirek grabbed the zebra by his tail and the Hellevator lever with his free hand. Thus began a sick game of tug-of-war between desperation and ravenous hunger.

“I can’t hold on much longer!” Tirek grunted as he felt the strength of his arms begin to fail.

"Lose the leg, Grogar!" Zeb pleaded in pain. "Or we all get eaten!"

The ram began furiously striking the stitches holding his trapped leg to the rest of him. Just as the strength of the mortals was about to fail, his leg came free with a bloodcurdling tear of flesh and fur. The three fell backward onto the platform as the limb disappeared into the gluttonous abomination’s mouth. Tirek clumsily slapped down the lever to activate the Hellevator and, with a hiss of steam, the lift began to descend. The beast let out an enraged roar from being cheated out of a full meal yet again but there was no more it could do. The trio lay panting on the metal floor, the close call setting their nerves on end.

“I hope it chokes on it.” The now three-legged Grogar wheezed.

“Well, we can always get you a new one.” Tirek said between heaving gasps. “There’s plenty of money where we’re going.”

Any further conversation was impossible as the Hellevator shaft filled with suffocating smoke and soot. The fleshy walls became sickly and gangrenous before eventually giving way to metal bulkheads and rivets. The stench of filth and waste was replaced with the sharp smell of ozone. The horrific wet squelching of waste and flesh faded as the rhythmic clanging of toil and labor took over. Over the transitional din was the by now expected mocking laughter of their demonic spectator.

"Making progress, mortals?" The primordial presence cackled. "Your journey is futile. You will die and your souls will burn in these Hells forever."

"That's it!" The centaur angrily righted himself and shouted into the miasma of smoke. "Stop taunting us from the shadows and face us, coward! Face a worthy foe!"

His challenge was answered by a moment of silence and then another round of amused cackling from the demonic entity. Tirek bristled and made to attack the shadows only for Zeb to stop him from wasting his magic and possibly his life.

"Chill, T." The bard said firmly. "If that is what we think it is, the best you can do is prove it wrong. You feel me?"

"Yeah." The warlock relaxed but continued to glare at where he thought the voice had come from. "Yeah..."

The shaft eventually opened up to reveal that they were being lowered into a sprawling foundry stretching as far as their eyes could see. A cloud of ash and smoke plunged the circle into gloomy darkness only broken by the fires of industry. Towering blast furnaces and smokestacks reached into the polluted sky like grasping fingers. The lift slowly lowered the pair into one such tower, stopping just shy of the molten gold that illuminated the area with a brilliant glow. A catwalk extended from the wall and connected with the platform, allowing them to trot across. Sweltering heat baked the muck off their sweaty bodies as they stood before the Eternal Engine of Greed; the Fourth Circle of Tartarus where the prodigal and miserly were condemned in equal measure to toil endlessly in the infernal mints and foundries under the watchful eyes and barbed lashes of mechanical, demonic taskmasters.

“This is the penultimate circle of our journey.” Grogar said with renewed determination. “Not much further, my friends.”

There were few places more dangerous in Equestria than the untamed Everfree Forest. Both flora and fauna alike posed threat to more civilized creatures, to say nothing of the villains and fiends that also dwelled within the wilderness. This was their domain and few were brave or foolish enough to venture far off the beaten path. At least, that was usually the case. Tonight was different, however, as something new roamed the woods.

"A wilderness in every sense of the word." Grey thought absently as a manticore jabbed at him with its tail only to give up once it realized he was ethereal. "I knew many a hero that got their start by combing forests like these for monsters."

Confident that he was not in immediate danger from the forest's denizens, Grey went on autopilot as he withdrew into his thoughts. As always, the reclamation and restoration of his realm were at the forefront of his mind. Finding the Underworld was his top priority followed by kicking the 'Silent King' off his throne and quelling the uprising in Tartarus. After that, he could focus on rebuilding his likely ruined domain. It seemed simple but the traveler knew it would be best if he could enlist the aid of others.

"I may be the mighty Dread Lord of Shades but I will be the first to admit I cannot rule my realm alone." The cloaked animus mused as a key passage from the Light Keeper's message came to mind. "Perhaps I may find viable candidates on the fringes of Equestrian society."

“You there. Do you grow tired of your pitiful mortal existence? If so, then consider joining my ranks.” Grey paused and pointed to a perplexed owl to practice his recruitment pitch. “Benefits include custom fitted armor, access to phenomenal Khthonic power, and the comfort in knowing that you will outlive all of your enemies.”

“Hoo.” The wide-eyed bird hooted in reply.

“Who, indeed.” The Dark Lord pondered aloud. “Not just any mortal will follow me into the Sunless Lands.”

“Hoo-hoo.” The owl hooted again before it looked away as if indicating something.

The tenebrous traveler followed the strigiform's gaze over to a flickering glow a ways off the path. This far from civilization, it could have been either fellow travelers or outlaws resting around a campfire. Grey was inclined to go with the latter.

“Might be worth investigating.” The living shadow decided as he silently drifted toward the light.

As he drew closer, he could hear the distinctive articulation of diamond dogs arguing over how to properly divide their spoils. Slipping up into the dark canopy of the trees, Grey gained a good vantage of the clearing. He counted five of the hounds around a small fire. Four of them were slim and lanky while what he assumed to be their leader was bulkier and wore piecemeal armor bearing a crossed out mark of the Legion.

“What gives you the right to boss us around?” One of the bare-chested dogs complained. “You ain't in the mountains anymore. Ya need guts n’ cunnin’ to be boss ‘round ‘ere!”

“I got ten timez da cunnin’ n’ gutz of all you muttz!” The bigger mountain dog growled. “Dat meanz I get all da flash loot!”

“It's all flashy!” Another pointed out. “You're cheating!”

“More brawn than brains.” The hooded observer mused as the argument devolved into inarticulate barks and growls. “Not completely useless...”

While the brigands continued to argue, Grey scanned over the rest of their makeshift camp. A few small tents with tiny piles of ill-gotten goods told him that these outlaws had only just starting roaming this neck of the woods. Pure luck was the only explanation as to how they had managed to evade Night Guard hunting parties. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed movement amongst the loot. A bound, gagged and inhibited azure unicorn ineffectively struggled against her bonds, occasionally lying still when one of her captors looked her way.

“A hostage for ransom, perhaps.” The animus inferred. “A unicorn could prove useful if I can appropriate her services.”

“I'z no cheat!” The big dog barked angrily. “Dems fightin' wordz!”

The smaller hound must have agreed as he lauched himself at the bandit chief. The two rolled around on the ground in a mess of claws, teeth and fur while the rest of the pack cheered them on. Their unseen spectator shook his head in disapproval. He mentally discarded the idea of recruiting the unruly hounds and focused on the unicorn. Liberating the captive mare seemed like an excellent way to get in her good graces before he made his proposal.

“Rarity told me that these beasts’ ears are sensitive to whining.” Grey recalled. “Let us see how they respond to this.”

"Rargh! Ya think yer 'ard, git?" The mountain dog gained the advantage and pinned the challenger. "Ya nothin' but some bitch-made-!"

Their argument was cut off by the soul-chilling roar of some benthic creature. The dogs froze as the howl echoed throughout the forest. Their argument was forgotten as they immediately drew their weapons and scanned the flickering shadows.

"What the Hell was that?!" One of the bandits yelped in a near panic.

"Bloody wraith-demon!" Another's resolve failed him as he made a dash for the treeline. "Leg it!"

The two turned tail and fled, bounding into the woods as fast as their stubby legs could carry them. The mountain dog shouted inarticulate insults after them but they were not about to change their minds. With an angry grunt, he picked up a burning branch from the fire and held it aloft. The shadows retreated but there was no sign of the source of the call. The leader took a few steps forward with his sword at the ready, unaware of the animus perched in the forest canopy above him.

"Bah, nuthin'." The brute barked. "One of ya get after dose muttz! It's dumb to wander off alone- ACK!"

He barely had time to yell as something snuffed out his torch while a set of claws seized him by his head. His goon could only watch as their boss was dragged struggling wildly into the darkness above. There was a rustling of leaves and the desperate struggling of the chief before the tell-tale slash of a blade severing flesh silenced both. A moment later and the mountain hound fell to the ground sans his head. The remaining pair back away from the corpse until they heard something drop down behind them. They whirled around to see a tenebrous terror rise to his full height and sweep its baleful gaze over the terrified bandits.

"It's not too late to flee." Grey reminded them as he looked over the severed head in his claws before tossing it away.

In a feat of either suicidal stupidity or foolish confidence, the pair of outlaws decided to charge the ambusher. Seeing a chance to escape, the unicorn stuck out of her hind legs and tripped one of her captors. The dog fell forward and slid face first into the fire, extinguishing the flame and plunging the clearing into pitch darkness. Effectively blind, the other bandit swung wildly at where he hoped the wraith was only to embed his blade into a tree. While he desperately struggled to free his weapon, the animus drove a single talon into the base of his skull.

“Hopefully you serve better in death.” The living shadow thought as he turned his attention to the last outlaw.

The hound had recovered from his fall and was on his knees trying to pat out the embers clinging to his singed fur. Wordlessly, the animus picked up the dog’s dropped weapon and pulled him back by his scalp, exposing his neck. Grey drove the blade through his throat and into the ground beneath, leaving the body bent backward in a cadaverous crescent.

“Well, that was invigorating.”The necromantic fiend thought as he muttered a few Khthonic incantations to ensure the ghosts of the raiders did not linger. “Now, where did that unicorn get to?”

He found the mare in question doing her best impression of an inchworm in an effort to escape in the confusion. The animus condensed himself into his less threatening equine form and easily overtook the constricted unicorn. He rolled her onto her back and pinned her in place with a firm hoof. The mare’s lilac colored eyes widened in fear as saw only piercing pale eyes in the darkness above her.

“Calm yourself, mage.” The shadow stallion assured the now frantically struggling unicorn in a calming tone. “I mean you no harm.”

Once she realized that the creature was sentient and was not about to add her to his kill count, the captive ceased her struggles and nodded in affirmation. Grey used his free hoof to removes the gag, allowing the mare to spit out the certainly foul taste of a diamond dog handkerchief before she regarded her unexpected rescuer.

“Thanks.” The azure unicorn said weakly. “Can you get this accursed thing off?”

“That mountain dog must have brought it from the Empire.” The caliginous traveler deduced as the mare indicated the cold-iron band around her horn. “Never underestimate the power of anti-magic.”

“I can.” The hooded horse said as he gripped the cold iron ring in a fetlock. “This will feel weird.”

The mare’s breath hitched in her throat as the nullification was lifted from her horn, allowing raw magic to flow through her again. Her horn ignited in a brilliant magenta glow and enveloped her bonds. The rope unraveled and slithered off the mage like a snake until she was free.

“Ha! No mere piece of rope can hold the Great and Powerful Trixie!” The freshly empowered magician declared with a flash of magic that incinerated the offending object. “What did you do with those feckless hounds? Trixie demands retribution!”

“I’m afraid you can only claim vengeance by proxy.” The dark pony said coolly after he stored the cold iron band within his being and helped Trixie to her hooves. “See for yourself.”

Curious, the once captive unicorn cast a simple light spell that illuminated the clearing. She gasped as she witnessed the decapitated, punctured and impaled bandits. Grey braced himself for a moral lecture that seemed so predominate in Equestria but he was surprised when the azure unicorn smirked in satisfaction.

“They deserved nothing less.” The vindictive mare said curtly. “A few less villains in this world would-ah!”

Her legs wobbled and gave out as she tried to trot forward, sending her back to the ground in an undignified heap. Trixie sucked on her teeth as pins and needles assaulted her blood-deprived limbs.

“Want me to carry you until your legs wake up?” The stallion offered.

“I am fully capable of trotting on my own.” The egotistic equine huffed as she once again tried and failed to stand. “But since you were so kind as to offer…”

The larger equine knelt down to allow the mare access to his back. Trixie flung herself across her new mount and adjusted her seat into a somewhat regal manner.

“So, Trixie was it?” Grey asked as he began trotting back toward the road. “How did you end up out here by yourself?”

“I was on my way to Baltimare to grace the ignorant populace with the most Amazing and Spectacular display of magic they have ever seen!” The mare said with a showy flourish. “But, alas, my journey was met with catastrophe when my wagon slipped a wheel.”

“I guess you were easy prey for outlaws then.” The hooded stallion inferred.

“Indeed.” Trixie snorted angrily. “They swarmed me in great numbers. I managed to dispatch maybe two scores of them before I was overwhelmed.”

“Oh, please.” The animus mentally rolled his eyes. “I know a good story is worth embellishing but that’s pushing it.”

“So why did they take you?” He asked. “Ransom?”

“No. They were under the impression that I, Trixie Lulamoon, was an exotic dancer.” The azure mare said indignantly. “As if she would debase herself for such vile and despicable creatures.”

“Adept at magic, loose morals and a big ego.” The cloaked animus thought. “I’m sensing a trend in my choice of female companions here. She even has 'moon' as part of her name.”

“Trixie lured them into a false sense of security by pretending to be compliant for a night.” The unicorn continued. “Little did they know that Trixie is a master of escapology! I was just about to slip my bonds when you descended upon them.”

“I couldn’t just leave a mare in need.” The shadowy stallion said lightly. “Especially one such as you.”

“Finally, a pony that recognizes greatness when he sees it.” Trixie said with a proud smile. “Just for that, Trixie will add a little extra to your reward for your timely rescue.”

“I am choosing not to misinterpret that.” Grey mentally deadpanned.

The pair eventually broke the tree line and trotted onto the moonlit road. From her vantage, Trixie scanned the horizon until she spotted something not too far away.

“There’s Trixie’s caravan!” She pointed to her now not-so-mobile home. “Oh, it looks worse than she remembers.

“That it does.” The stygian stallion observed. “There might be scavengers about so keep an eye out.”

Grey’s caution proved partially correct as they reached what was left of the traveling magician’s home. Looters had already gutted the caravan and made off with anything they could carry while smashing what they could not. Trixie slid off her mount and stared agape at the splintered ruins of her home. The unicorn began to shake with ill-contained fury.

“Gah! Wagon wheel!” She transfixed the object of her wrath with a murderous glare. “Damnedest wagon wheel! Trixie knew you couldn’t be trusted!”

The unicorn pounced on the wheel and began breaking it to pieces in a fit of rage. While Trixie threw her tantrum, the tenebrous traveler entered the caravan and picked his way through the debris. The looters had been thorough if not enthusiastic; there was nothing left worth taking.

“They even took the bed.” He thought as he noticed the mangled bed frame.

As he was about to trot back outside, something caught his eye. Beneath an overturned dresser, a jewel just barely glinted in the moonlight. He lifted up the piece of furniture to find that it was, in fact, the clasp to a purple cape adorned with various stars. Underneath that was a flattened hat in the same style. Grey retrieved both items and inspected them for damage.

“At least she won’t have to travel in the fur.” He mused as he shook off the dust. “Besides, what’s a witch without her hat?”

Carrying the rumpled but intact clothes beneath his foreleg, the shadow stallion exited the ruins to find that Trixie had set fire to the pile of splinters that was the wheel. She was slumped against the wagon, staring at the flames with a scowl on her features.

“I know what it's like to lose a home, Miss Lulamoon.” Grey said sympathetically. “If it’s any consolation, I did recover these.”

He held out the two articles of clothing. Trixie graciously took the cape and wrapped it around her like a blanket while she hugged the pointed cap close to her body. She looked up at the looming equine with a small but thankful smile. The cloaked stallion eased himself down beside her as she resumed her staring contest with the makeshift campfire.

“This is the second time the Poor and Downtrodden Trixie’s home has been demolished.” The blue unicorn said with a sigh. “She had to slave away for months at a rock farm just to afford this one.”

She knocked an indicative hoof against the caravan only to cause it to collapse completely.

“I think you may have been overcharged.” Grey thought.

“Now once again, Trixie finds herself destitute.” The magician bemoaned. “What is she to do?”

"Alright, here we go." The ancient Lord took a moment to best present his deal.

“You could come with me.” The hooded stallion offered. “I could always use a talented mage by my side.”

“Really?” Trixie’s ears perked up at this but her expression remained dour. “Trixie doesn’t even know your name.”

“I have gone by many names and titles.” The stallion said honestly. “One of which is Lord.”

“Lord?” The magician repeated. “So, what? Are you some sort of ‘king incognito’?”

“Well, she’s not wrong.” The Lord of Shades thought.

“Correct.” The animus answered. “I have traveled far and wide but now must return to my home to quell an uprising. Again, you may accompany me if you wish. You will have access to a dwelling with foundations as well as a trove of ancient lore that I can guarantee you won't find anywhere else.”

Trixie mulled it over in her mind. She was not completely sure she could trust this dark stranger, even if he did liberate her from brigands. Then again, the idea of actually being an adventurous hedge mage rather than claiming to be one greatly appealed to her particularly if it led to her becoming a court mage. Plus performing parlor tricks for the unwashed masses no longer held the prestige it once had.

“The Great and Powerful Trixie has decided to lend you her considerable skills.” The blue unicorn said finally as she donned her wide-brimmed hat. “But she still wants a name from you.”

“Last time I told a unicorn my true name, he had an anxiety attack.” Grey thought. “I really need to find the modern translation of it.”

“I am known as Grey in certain circles.” Grey answered, silently deciding that he could trust her with his real name when the time came. “That will suffice for now.”

“Very well then, Grey.” Trixie got to her hooves as did her new companion. “Before we depart, there is something Trixie needs to do.”

The stygian stallion watched as the unicorn ignited her horn and wrapped what was left of the burning wheel in her magic. With a deft toss of her head, Trixie tossed the incendiary disc into the ruins of her home. The dry wood made excellent kindling as the looted wagon went up in flames, casting dancing shadows on the trees and sending acrid smoke into the night sky. The former owner of the caravan watched the blaze with a very satisfied look for a while before rejoined Grey.

“It’s almost symbolic.” She said in a poetic fashion. “Much like the brilliant phoenix, the Mighty and Resurgent Trixie shall once again rise from the ashes of disaster better than ever.”

“Ironic considering we will be descending into my realm.” The Dread Lord of Shades thought as he and his new companion resumed his quest for Hollow Shades and the hidden world beyond.