Tirek liked to consider himself a formidable centaur. He had endured the many dangers of the wild Everfree for months in a weakened state, played the Spirit of Disharmony for the fool that he was, and fought the combined powers of no less than four immortal Alicorns to a stalemate. In Tartarus, he outclassed most of the common demons and inmates by a wide margin, in his own high opinion. Still, even with all his tremendous strength and cunning, there was no way he could have prepared himself for what he and his companions experienced while being warped through the gap between the Fourth and Fifth Hells.

"AAAH-HAHAHAHAHA!" The howling laughter of the ever-present primordial entity filled their ears.

Ghastly visions of rending claws and gnashing teeth along with the deafening chorus of a billion throats screaming in eternal agony assaulted their senses. Demonic voices snarled at them in incomprehensible tongues and curses. Raw panic seized their beings as they tumbled through the harrowing wormhole. After what felt like an eternity, the four were spat out of the warp a few feet off the stricken ground. They landed together with a dull thud, having unconsciously embraced each other in fear during their terrifying trip.

“Is it over?” Tirek asked aloud, unwilling to believe his frayed senses just yet.

“I dare not open my eyes to find out.” A trembling Grogar replied.

After taking a few breaths to steady his nerves, the centaur found that their experience had indeed passed. They were both in an area of flat ground surrounded by broken and jagged rock. A small pathway led out of the terminus and into the Fifth Circle proper.

"I thought the Hellevator was bad." Zeb said with a shiver as he broke the embrace. "Fuck me, that was intense."

"Keep a stiff upper beak, chaps." Gordon put on a confident face as he smoothed out his ruffled feathers. "We can't let a bit of abstract horror discourage us. That being said, did anyone else hear something laughing at us?"

"We have a spectator." Tirek explained briefly. "Probably the embodiment of Tartarus itself."

"Bloody Hell." The Major-general's expression fell instantly.

“Pretty much. Fortunately it is content with watching.” The bell ringer nodded as they trotted out of their point of entry. “Regardless, the Soul Smith held up his end of the deal. Welcome to Wrath.”

The fallen lord swept a cloven hoof over the fresh hellscape stretching out before them. The Fifth Circle could best be described as a desolate quagmire where those pitiful shades that had let their anger dominate them were cast in like refuse. The raucous, and often profanity-laden, arguments of the damned filled the fetid air as they vented their eternal rage against any and everything to each other with both words and blows. Occasionally, the wrathful were picked over by scavenging wendigos that had been drawn to the high concentration of malice only to be trapped in Tartarus. Centuries of a steady and potent diet with no need to freeze their victims had corrupted the sinister spirits, resulting in the loss of their icy abilities but gaining the raw power and coloration of the black hatred they so readily consumed. Far across the stygian marsh and feeding grounds of the black wendigos on an island of jagged stone was the Woeful City itself, but a distant hellish glow from where the four were standing.

“So close and yet so far.” Grogar sighed. “Dare we try to ford the swamp?”

“Too deep.” Tirek answered briskly. “Plus the wrathful would drag us down. We’ll have to take the ferry unless Gordon is willing to fly us one by one.”

"I am but my passenger and I would be fodder for those black beasts." The griffon pointed out.

"Ferry it is then." Zeb concurred. "At least we have a path to follow."

The group traveled down the bank to a rather ramshackle jetty built out of waterlogged driftwood and rusted iron. Besides a burning and moaning shade locked in a gibbet to act as a beacon to the far shore, the dock was deserted. The centaur tried to spot the ferry on the water but all he saw were angry souls and the gnarled swamp flora.

“Phlegyas must be out on a run.” Grogar inferred. “Nothing to do but wait.”

“Of course.” The crimson centaur rolled his eyes. “Can’t just waltz into the Woeful City, there has to be some damn delay.”

It was rare to have a moment of laxity in Tartarus and thus none of the four had any good idea what to do with it. The griffon, zebra and goat chatted idly while Tirek tried his luck with conversing with the wrathful shades. “Go fuck yourself!” or some colorful variant thereof was the usual response along with other illegible angrish. It did not take the warlock long to realize his attempts at civil discourse were futile. These damned souls knew only anger and would rather stew in it for eternity than humor him. At least, that was the case for the ones on the surface of the swamp. Below the murky waters, the sullen silently fumed in their wrath. The vocal wrathful at least vented their anger. These wretched souls bottled it up and let it poison them to the point where they felt nothing but hate.

"Always best to get that out of your system." The withered hermit mused aloud.

"Heads up, T!" Zeb called out. "Plaqu...Phlem...our ride's here."

The centaur looked up to see a hulking figure moving through the swamp. As the beast approached the shore, it steadily rose out of the murky water until the four were staring up at the gnarled and hunched form of Phlegyas. The ancient demon stopped before the rickety dock and looked down on the travelers.

"MORTALS..." The water-logged fiend rumbled like a thunderhead.

"I say." Gordon took an involuntary step back as the behemoth loomed over them.

"Just the four of us." Grogar said as he indicated each of them with a hoof.

Phlegyas only grunted something beyond any of their understanding as it turned to the side and hunkered down. Chained to the demon's back was a metal howdah with enough space for easily five times their number. The group boarded the beast of burden and signaled that they were ready. With a slow groan, it turned its back to the dock and slogged back through the swamp.

"Talkative old chap, isn't he?" The Major-general said lightly as their ride sank up to its hunched shoulders in the quagmire.

"I doubt we could get beyond one word at a time with him." Tirek shrugged. " At least he's a smooth ride."

"Very smooth." Zeb agreed as he nodded his head to the beat of Phlegyas' steps. "Maybe once we've escaped, I can take him back to Zebrica. Turn him into a pimpmobile."

"Pimpmobile?" The griffon repeated curiously.

"Uhh... a fancy ride for movers and shakers." The zebra tried to explain. "Like those fly airships you griffons use."

"Ah, jolly good." Gordon nodded in understanding. "My expedition used to travel in a dreadnought class ship. There was nothing more inspiring nor terrifying than seeing its profile in the skies."

"I imagine so." Grogar said casually before a thought occurred to him. "To invoke an old prison trope, how did you end up down here, Major-general?"

"That is a bit of a tale, old bean." The tiger-hawk bristled slightly. "In short, when exploring exotic lands filled with primeval temples, listen to the gibbering natives when they say a golden idol is cursed."

"Wow. That sucks, MG." Zeb grimaced sympathetically. "Sent to the Pits due to a bout of bad luck."

"HERE..." Phlegyas' booming voice brought their attention back to their destination.

A rough cliff face that dwarfed even their massive mount. The group braced themselves in the howdah as the behemoth straightened up and started to climb. The beast only had to take a few steps before its head peeked over the edge to a level landing. It pressed its forehead against the rock to allow its passengers to disembark over its ruddy scalp.

"Thanks for the expedient journey, Phlegyas." Grogar said once they were on solid ground.

"Perhaps you should join us, my good giant." Gordon offered. "I'm sure Corona would welcome one of your stature and strength."

"HOPELESS..." The demon rumbled as it descended back into the wrathful swamp. "FUTILE..."

"I'll take that as a no." The griffon deflated.

"He's been broken." Zeb said sadly. "All the fight has been beaten out of him."

“Pathetic.” Tirek rumbled as he trotted to the road leading further inland. “Leave the ogre to his swamp. We need to get a move on.”

With that, the travelers began navigating the rocky path up to Pandemonium. The centaur took the lead while the two striped would-be-escapees discussed the bard's ongoing ballad. The ram, however, was deep in thought as their encounter with the Wanderer of Wrath weighed on him.

“He's powerful enough for the shades and wendigos to leave him be.” The bell ringer muttered under his breath. “Is he a coward for not wanting to fight for freedom or does he honestly think that there is no hope? Wait a minute…”

It just occurred to the old goat that, present company excluded, every denizen they had encountered on their journey had no desire to escape the Pits. From Judge Minos to Phlegyas, the only things they had in common were some measure of authority and power within Tartarus, especially when compared to the shades of the mortal dead. So with that in consideration, was their reluctance to join Corona due to a lack of faith in her success or some sort of dark loyalty to the Powers That Be?

“Questions for later.” The fallen lord decided. “Have to get to-oomph!”

With his attention divided, Grogar failed to notice that the group had stopped and rear-ended Gordon. The posh explorer did not even react as he looked out at the hellscape before him with a slight hint of awe in his hawkish eyes. The road they were on lead to the great bridge that spanned the gaping chasm that surrounded the Woeful City. Cursed shades rained down around them on their way to the Inner Circles of Tartarus where the worst of the worst were condemned for knowingly committing the most grievous of crimes. Across the yawning abyss stood brazen walls and towers, separating the many races of demons from the suffering mortal souls. Perched atop each tower loomed a hooded creature, powerful wings outspread and a flaming sword clutched in their mailed fists. Were it not for the slight twitching in their limbs, these guardians of the inmost dens could be easily mistaken for statues.

“The Capital of the Infernal Pits.” Grogar said nervously as he clutched at the bells around his neck. “If evil has a home, it's here.”

“Great George's trousers!” Gordon looked away for a moment to rub his eyes to make sure what he was seeing was real. "And I thought the lost cities of Ind were impressive."

“Hey, they even left the gates open for us.” The zebra pointed out the entrance into the city where figures were seen passing through.

“We are expected.” The centaur stroked his beard as he mulled over. “We might be among like-minded inmates. Still, I would let my guard down in the company of demons.”

“Only a fool would do otherwise.” Grogar said smartly as he and his partners crossed the weathered stone bridge into Pandemonium.

Unbeknownst to the group of travelers, they were being watched by a trio of ancient and terrible sisters. Ever since the clarion call to join the Archfiend and her heretical exodus had gone out through the Circles, they had been shadowing the threshold of the Capital of Tartarus alongside the mute sentinels, committing each and every thrice damned soul that dared enter with forbidden hopes of seeing the living world again to parchment. With a flourish of a blood-stained talon, the eldest of the three siblings added Tirek, Grogar, Zeb and Gordon’s names to the extensive list.

The Infernal Queen let a fanged grin of devilish delight cross her features. From the high windows of Dis, Corona could see the massive throngs of hellions and demons that had assembled in the city forum at her behest. From the chimeric hunters of Limbo and limber succubae of Lust to the brutish malebranche of Fraud and abominable devils of Treachery, all Circles of Tartarus were represented in this grand legion of the damned.

“Legion may be too generous.” The fiery Alicorn said as her chosen guards picked out select individuals from the throng and escorted them into the capitol tower via a writhing beam of transport energy at its base. “More like a horde with a few strong wills guiding it.”

"It's a miracle that riots haven't broken out yet." Xi'vili commented as she looked over the eclectic mass. "I can feel the tension between Circles from up here."

"Give them a common foe even bitter rivals will work together." The Archfiend said candidly as her horn began to glow and vibrate for attention. “Ah, that must be my puppet.”

"Ooh~" The succubus perked up at the thought of seeing the ram again.

Corona sent a spark of magic to complete the connection. Hellfire swirled in impossible patterns for a moment before finally coming into focus on Grogar’s face. The patchwork goat was looking over his shoulder nervously at the crowded streets of the Woeful City and did not notice that his mistress had answered.

“You rang, bell ringer?” The Queen of the Damned asked impatiently.

“Oh, your Majesty!” The ram bleated with a start before composing himself. “Ahem, I’m pleased to report that Tirek and I have just entered Pandemonium. We can see Dis from here.”

He angled his viewing bell to show Tirek staring up at the floating tower and the great chains that anchored it behind them. If she squinted, Corona could swear she saw the fire of her magnificent mane in one of the windows. Her secretary confirmed this as she ran to the window and waved.

“Most excellent.” Corona rubbed her forehooves together in anticipation. "What of the bard you picked up in Lust?"

"Zeb? He's with us, too." The ram answered as he panned over to the zebra in question standing beside a tiger-hawk. "We also picked up a griffon in Greed. Name's Gordon."

"Gordon's alive?" The fiery Alicorn arched an eyebrow. "I underestimated that raider."

"You know him, majesty?" The view shifted back to the ram.

"I know of him." The Hierarch of Hell corrected. "I am impressed, Grogar. You've formed quite the little party."

"All to further your goals, my most benevolent mistress." The bell ringer groveled.

"Of course." Corona rolled her eyes. "Look for one of my guards. They’ll escort the four of you in.”

“Will do.” Grogar nodded affirmatively. “We will see you within the hour.”

With that, the communication charm was severed with a snap of infernal magic. The malevolent mare trotted toward the balcony overlooking the forum. While she fully intended to discuss strategy with her chosen generals, she wanted to address the demonic horde on her doorstep.

“What type of queen would I be if I did not address my subjects?” The Hierarch of Hell said as she levitated over her royal accouterments of a horned crown and gold amethyst necklace. "Don't answer that, Xi."

"..." The demonette complied but stuck out her forked tongue at the Alicorn once her back was to her.

Corona trotted out onto the balcony in her full royal splendor to be greeted with a cacophonous roar from the wrathful denizens of Pandemonium mixed with more reserved applause from the visiting demons. Magically amplifying her voice so that her authoritative tones reverberated across the city, the Infernal Queen spoke and her subjects hung on to every word.

“Demons… devils… my brethren.” The blazing Alicorn swept a gold-shod hoof over the terrible throng. “For untold millennia, we have all suffered amongst the flames of the Inferno, doomed to an eternity of torment by those who deem themselves righteous.”

A few lofty names were cursed in the Black Tongue of Tartarus from the crowd below. Much like their punishments, the memories of the damned were long and unforgiving. The malice that grew from such grudges could level empires if given direction and Corona knew it.

“We have all suffered in the darkness of despair until now.” The hellish horse proclaimed. “The rumors that have drawn all you hopeful here before me…the destruction of the Brass Gates, the gathering of crystal souls, the grand exodus…they are all true!”

A murmur of excitement ran through the horde. They would need to see for themselves, of course, but no other Infernal King or Queen had made such claims before. Then again, none of them had remained in power long enough to back up those statements.

“The path to freedom from the pathetic Silent King and his sycophantic slaves now lies open to those with the will to take it.” Corona continued. “But what is that will, that drive to which we assemble the largest army of Tartarus since the Mythic Ages?”

She let the question hang in the air for effect. A few literal and fantastical answers were argued amongst her captive audience along with a few brawls. After a few moments of silence, the Alicorn answered with a single, hate-filled word.

“VENGEANCE!” She shouted as her mane did a fair impression of an erupting volcano. “Those who have wronged us and the fools who follow them have escaped retribution for far too long!”

Judging from the uproar this earned from the crowd, they shared her sinister sentiment.

“Once we take the Underworld from the nether-ridden clutches of its odious overlord, we will march on the surface in a storm of wrath and ruin!” Corona shouted above the now raucous demons. “From Equestria to Gryphondom; Yakistan to the Dragon Homelands…all of them will fall and no soul, no matter how blackened or pure, will be spared!”

The hellions were almost salivating at the thought of not only freedom but global dominance. Their queen had them wrapped around her hooves. She just needed to end on a strong note.

“And together, united in this burning crusade, we will at long last be FREE!” The Alicorn proclaimed to thunderous cries of evil exaltation that shook the very foundations of Tartarus.

“DEATH TO THE LONGHORNS OF KNOSSOS!”

"CAST DOWN THE DRAGON-PRINCES AND SCATTER THEIR HORDES!"

“SLAUGHTER THE LORD PROTECTOR AND HIS WARHAWKS!”

“LET ALL OF CANTERLOT BURN!”

Corona spread her forehooves wide and let the wave of malice wash over her. Such unbridled hatred warmed the cockles of her black heart. The only thing that could top it was the thought of the Solar and Lunar Alicorns’ blood on her hooves and it appeared that fantasy would soon become a reality. The Infernal Queen returned to her quarters and prepared to meet with her soon-to-be generals as her demons organized themselves.

“Our enemies think themselves righteous and righteous their suffering will most certainly be.” Corona murmured gleefully to herself as she departed for the council chambers with her assistant and two hulking bodyguards in tow.

The animus felt an odd sensation run through his stygian body. It was if someone had walked over his grave or his equivalent to the expression. Strangest of all was the weird train of thought his mind suddenly found itself on.

“Miss Lulamoon?” He asked while he and his cerulean companion waited within the capitol of Hollow Shades for Countess Dunwich to grant them an audience in her office. “Do you think my hooves are nether-ridden?”

“They look fine to Trixie.” The hedge mage answered after looking his jet black hooves over. “Immaculate, even. Why do you ask?”

“I wish I knew.” He thought. "Why does this feel familiar?"

“Just an odd thought.” The shadow pony brushed it off with a shrug.

The strange but frustratingly familiar feeling passed as the tall doors to the Countess’s office creaked open. A seasoned Night Guard trotted out into the minimalistic waiting area. He pointed a cloven hoof to the bench where the two travelers were waiting patiently.

“Countess Dunwich will see you now.” The thestral announced.

Both ponies moved to stand only for Grey to be forced back down by two other bat-ponies.

“The unicorn first.” The guard added.

“So much for letting me do the talking.” The shadowy stallion mentally grumbled.

“Remember to keep a civil tongue, Miss Lulamoon.” Grey politely reminded the magician as she stood up from her seat. “We are guests here.”

“Worry not, my dear Grey.” Trixie said confidently. “The Refined and Elegant Trixie is the very embodiment of tact and grace.”

“Could have fooled me.” The hooded pony thought.

The showmare disappeared into the darkened room along with the summoning guard, leaving Grey alone with the other pair of thestrals. He braced himself for the expected explosion of magic and ego from the office but, to his surprise, none came. After a few moments passed without incident, the abyssal shamble relaxed his guard a hair.

“Perhaps I misjudged her.” He mused. “Or Dunwich has a lot of patience.”

“You two like your hundred-bit words.” One of the guards, a sleepy-eyed mare, cut through his musings. “You two from Canterlot?”

“I am.” Grey answered. “I can’t speak for Miss Lulamoon but she is obviously educated.”

“If she’s smart as she sounds, she’ll watch her mouth.” The other guard chimed in. “You may want to do the same.”

“I will keep that in mind.” The cloaked stallion said neutrally before changing the subject. “Do you two mind if I stretch my legs?”

The two thestrals looked at each other and back to their enigmatic guest before nodding carefully.

“No sudden moves.” The guardstallion warned.

Grey stood up and made a show of stretching his long limbs. They were not really cramped; he just wanted an excuse to move about a bit. The Hidden One quietly trotted toward the wide window where he had a great view of the town. The sun had set by this point and lanterns provided a soft light for the nocturnal residents as they went about their nightly tasks. The statue he and Trixie had passed on their way in seemed to be a popular meeting spot as several bat-ponies congregated near it. From his fresh vantage point, the animus was able to see that the stone Alicorn was none other than Princess Luna herself, albeit a younger, more militant version of her clad in her Nightmarish armor. The Lunar Diarch was locked in combat with a looming, four-winged, upright being wielding a vicious longsword in one armored hand and a rending scythe in the other. The Lord of Shades knew this horrific daemon well.

“The Hand of Death.” He reminisced. “A loyal subordinate and good friend.”

“I see you have an eye for art.” The guardsmare said as she joined Grey at the window. “It represents one of Princess Luna’s greatest victories in uniting Equestria. We call it ‘Reclaiming the Night’.”

“So it is a historical piece.” The dark one inferred. “Tell me more, if you would be so kind.”

“Well, after the Long Winter, some of the nation leaders that had joined with the Alicorn’s were being killed off in their sleep.” The thestral recalled from her history lessons. “Assassinated by that fiend with the sword in the dead of night.”

“That was pretty much his job, even if he enjoyed it a bit too much.” Grey thought. “He had a preference for the elderly and royalty.”

“Princess Luna and a contingent of thestrals hunted down this monster and dueled with it for seven days and seven nights.” The guardsmare continued. “In the end, only our mistress emerged victorious.”

“She slew the creature?” Grey asked with a twinge of worry in his voice.

“Well…no.” The bat-pony deflated slightly. “At the climax of their duel, Princess Luna drove the beast through the heart of a mountain which stunned it long enough for her to relieve it of its sword. It fled into the darkness of the underground and has not been heard from since.”

“For a moment, I thought she was about to say he was petrified and put on display.” The Hidden One mentally sighed in relief. “Still, with the loss of the Kingslayer sword, his power is greatly diminished.”

"Hollow Shades sprang up in the ruins of the mountain." The other guard added. "There were plenty of materials around and the perpetual gloom from the Well of Shade suit us well."

"Well of Shade?" The Lord of Shades asked.

"Some type of cistern or temple that was buried under the mountain." The thestral mare explained as she indicated the namesake crater. "We also call it the Well of Shadows but the point is that the weird magic it puts off keeps our home nice and dark."

"Another temple buried under a mountain." Grey mused. "Discord must have been in a rut."

"You said 'temple'." He shifted to another topic. "Any idea who or what it was dedicated to?"

"Hard to say." The bat-stallion shrugged. "Everything down there was ruined. The only thing we could pull out was the head of a statue. It's on display over there."

He pointed further down the corridor to where a decorative bust was standing. The hooded horse moved to inspect it, only pausing to check with his minders for permission. They gave the go ahead and the animus looked over the relic. While the marble head was pitted from age and ruin, he could identify a few familiar features. Chief among them were the flowing mane and bits of gold that once gilded the head.

"The Lord of Lights." The Dark Lord deduced. "I recall you had your slaves build a temple near my borders to 'keep my foul influence in check'. How did that work out, my luminous nephew?"

"Any insights to offer?" The guardstallion asked. "You seem to recognize it."

"A light deity, perhaps." Grey speculated aloud. "The desecration of its temple might explain the shadowy influence. Ancient magic is weird like that."

"As good a guess as any." The guardsmare shrugged.

Any further talk was cut short by the grand doors into Dunwich’s office creaking open. Trixie trotted out none the worse for wear and with a pleased expression on her face. She trotted back to the couch and sat down with a contented sigh.

“How did it go?” Her travel partner asked.

“Quite well.” The unicorn answered brightly. “Like you, the Countess recognizes greatness when she sees it.”

“So we at least have one thing in common.” Grey thought.

“Alright, you’re next.” The guard gestured for the hooded horse to step in.

The hooded horse followed the guard into the office with the door shutting behind him with a bang. The stone room was barely illuminated by simple candles in small alcoves and on a massive wood table bonded by bolted iron bands. The whole thing bore more resemblance to a dungeon rather than a government office with the Countess herself seated behind the table, her crimson predatory eyes staring at him over her drink.

“Here’s the other one, mam.” The guard announced to his superior.

“Thank you.” The thestral Countess said smoothly before addressing her guest. “Please, have a seat.”

Grey pulled out the chair opposite the shadowed mare and eased himself into it. Dunwich finished her drink and licked traces of it off her pearly white fangs that jutted out from beneath her upper lip. She offered the bottle to her guest with a talon-like hoof.

“May I offer you some aged red?” The now apparent umbral thestral asked. “You must be parched after such a long journey.”

“Something tells me that isn’t wine.” The stygian being looked skeptically at the deep red liquid.

“I thank you for the offer but I must decline, Countess Dunwich.” Grey said politely. “I’m particular about my choice of drinks.”

“Very well.” The Countess withdrew her offer. “I must say, your companion has quite the high opinion about herself.”

“To Miss Lulamoon’s credit, she has a modicum of skill to back it up.” The magician’s fellow traveler said coolly. “I hope she wasn’t too much of a bother.”

“I have experience with such equines.” Dunwich smirked devilishly. “She was perfectly amicable once the conversation moved to her.”

“Her favorite subject, I’m sure.” The Hidden One mentally quipped.

“She claimed that you are a lord.” The mare leaned forward intently which allowed her leathery wings to stretch out. “If that is true, you are a long way from Canterlot. Have a falling out with Celestia, did we?”

“Just ‘Celestia’, not ‘Princess’?” The ancient Lord noticed.

“Not at all.” Grey said evenly. “You see…”

Hoping that Trixie had not told the Countess too much, Grey gave a somewhat doctored version of his reasons for traveling from Canterlot to Hollow Shades. He claimed he was on a private expedition looking into the ruins near the thestral colony that he believed to have once been an ancestral pile. To that end, he had gained the approval of, not Celestia, but Luna. Dunwich arched an inquisitive eyebrow at this.

“That is quite the claim, ‘lord’ Grey.” She said in a warning tone. “Not many make the effort to earn our matron’s blessing. Even fewer succeed.”

“Her standards are high, as they should be.” The dark stallion said evenly. “But she rewards those who meet them.”

The shadowy stallion rummaged through his tenebrous body and produced the waxing crescent dreamstone amulet. He placed it on the table and slid it toward a curious Dunwich. The thestral picked it up and inspected it in the candlelight. As she did, Grey noticed a similar necklace around her neck.

"Ah, she has the full moon amulet." The stygian stallion thought.

“A token of her favor.” The stygian pony said factually. "Exceptionally rare, as I have been told."

The umbral Countess ran a critical eye over the dreamstone one more time. Grey could tell by her expression that she still was not entirely convinced and he had a good idea why. A shadowy stallion and an egomaniacal unicorn rooting around in haunted ruins reeked of evil intentions. He began racking his mind for a plan B.

“I can purchase a convincing replica from a merchant outside.” She said flatly as she slid the amulet back to its alleged owner. “And as far as I know, you could have stolen this.”

“As if I would mug one of the Night-Captains.” The suspect stallion thought quickly. “Which remind me…”

“I doubt Night-Captain Vengeance would have let me get this far if I had.” He said coolly as he retrieved the amulet. “She sends her regards, by the way.”

“Does she?” Dunwich’s pointed ears noticeably perked up. “You know her as well?”

“And her brother, Knight.” Grey added. “Sibling teams seem to be popular in Equestria.”

“How are they?” The Countess asked, her tone shifting from suspicion to concern.

“Huh, she sounds almost maternal.” It suddenly clicked in the traveler’s head. “Oh. I can see the resemblance now.”

“Vengeance is in good health.” The dark traveler informed the probable dam of the two Night-Captains. “Knight was injured in an altercation with a band of diamond dogs but is expected to make a full recovery.”

“I see.” The umbral thestral said coldly. “Hmm, canis sanguine is in season right now...”

Every diamond dog in the Everfree inexplicably felt a shiver run down their spines. Dunwich muttered a few things under her breath before she returned her attention to her guest. She stared into his pale eyes as she mulled over what she had gleaned from him and the unicorn.

“Lord Grey, you are either a class above the stallions that share your title or a master charlatan.” She said evenly. “I will allow both you and your companion to reside within the colony for the duration of your stay but we will be keeping a close eye on you two. Are we clear?”

The Countess punctuated her question with a flash of her fangs; she was not about to broker any argument.

“Transparently.” Grey nodded.

“Good.” The umbral thestral waved over her guard. “My guards will see you out.”

Grey stood up from his seat and followed the attendant bat-pony back into the lobby. Trixie, who was demonstrating some of her talents as a magician to the guards, quickly dispersed a light show of her gloriously exaggerated victory over a band of diamond dogs. She regarded Grey with a sheepish smile.

“T-Trixie was just passing the time.” She tried to defend herself. “How did your talk with the Countess go?”

“We may go about Hollow Shades as we wish but under surveillance.” He reported. “Now, shall we?”

After saying goodbye to the friendly pair of Night Guards, the cerulean mage and stygian stallion followed their escort to the exit of the keep.

“A quick question, my good thestral.” Grey asked as they trotted down the dreary stone halls. “Is it protocol to give visitors the third degree?”

“Normally we are a bit more lenient.” The bat-pony explained curtly. “But lately we have had a rash of…incidents and cannot take any chances with outsiders.”

Judging by the thestral’s tone, the Hidden One inferred that he would not discuss the issue further with them. They trotted out of the imposing residence and out into the now lively township. The three did not get far when a procession of thestrals approached. The animus, unicorn and their escort stood aside as the bat-ponies passed with a coffin suspended between them. Grey respectfully bowed his head and murmured Khthonic benedictions while Trixie took off her hat and held it against her chest.

"What are you two doing?" The guard asked in confusion.

"Paying due respects." The magician answered. "Are we not suppose to?"

"Due respects...Oh!" The thestral narrowed his eyes in thought before it dawned on him. "He's not dead."

"What?" Grey looked up just as the coffin started to buck wildly.

"Blood!" A feral voice growled from within the body box as the pallbearers jumped on the lid and secured chains to it. "I must feed! Must drink!"

"No, some thestral just turned Umbral." The guard explained as the procession resumed and dissapeared into the keep. "Whenever that happens, they are restrained and taken in to be, shall we say, disciplined."

"Yikes." Trixie visibly shivered as she replaced her hat. "Is there a cure?"

"It's not an illness." The guardstallion said with a frown. "It is a gift. Some are just more receptive than others."

"Sounds like a fine line between Princess Luna's elites and feral predators." Grey mentally mused as Lulamoon trotted closer to him.

The three continued through the township until they reached the gaping hollow. The guard pointed a cloven hoof toward a boxy building across the crater where lights danced in the windows. Unlike the rough stonework of the neighboring structures, this one appeared more contemporary.

“There’s an inn where you can stay.” The bat-pony said. “A pair of sleazy unicorns owns the place, but the rooms are furnished.”

“Unicorns?” The hooded horse had wondered if he and Trixie were the only non-thestrals in the colony. “Intriguing.”

“Excellent. Thank you.” Grey gave a short nod of farewell. “Have a good night.”

The attendant thestral returned the nod and departed without another word, leaving the two ponies alone. Earning a few curious stares from the locals, they made their way to the inn. Grey tried the simple wooden door and finding it unlocked, opened it for his companion.

“After you.” He offered courteously.

In contrast to the gloomy keep of Dunwich, the inn was much warmer and bustled with late-night visitors such as off duty Night Guards and young bat-colts celebrating some milestone with strong drinks at the bar. The proprietors of the establishment were too busy raking in bits to notice their new customers until Grey rapped on the hardwood bar to get their attention. Upon seeing two ponies, one of the straw-hatted unicorns broke into a wide grin.

“Well look at this, dear brother of mine.” He said rapidly as he straightened his bowtie. “Two strapping ponies in from the cold.”

“And without warm beds to call their own.” The mustached brother added without missing a beat. “Such a state should be a crime.”

“Oh, I know these types.” The Lord of Shades realized. “The Eighth Circle was overflowing with their number.”

“But we can correct that in a jiffy.” The clean-shaven brother cut back in before either Grey or Trixie could respond. “Here at Flim and Flam’s Inn and Tavern, we offer quality accommodations for even the most discerning ponies. Isn’t that right, Flam.”

“That’s right, Flim.” The marginally more subdued unicorn took over. “Why, I’d say Princess Sparkle herself would be green with envy.”

“That she would be.” Flim concurred with what sounded like resentment beneath his energetic tone. “As would her apple bucking friend if she could taste our award-winning apple cider.”

“Made right here in Hollow Shades in our new patent pending Super Speedy Cider Squeezy-ach!” Flam was interrupted by an aura of magenta magic tugging at his neat facial hair.

“Thank you, Trixie.” Grey said to an obviously annoyed mare before returning his attention to the salesponies. “Forgive the interruption, Misters Flim and Flam, but you can spare us the pitch. We just need a room.”

“And a hot meal.” The azure magician added.

“Ah, I see. A couple who knows what they want.” An undeterred Flim said brightly. “We can respect that. Right, Flam?”

Flam just nodded as he attempted to comb his tweaked mustache back into shape.

“So, just for tonight, you two can have what we like to call our ‘Due Amanti’ special. That includes a honeymoon suite and not one, but two hot and ready meals for…” The cream-colored unicorns huddled together to debate a price. “…the bargain price of fifty bits.”

“Wait, the Chaste and Pure Trixie would never-“ The objecting mare was cut off by Grey wrapping an affectionate foreleg around her barrel and pulling her in close.

“Now, my lovely asphodel, we agreed that we would not be ashamed of our relationship.” He said with a subtle wink to Trixie.

“Wha? Oh! How silly of Trixie.” She said with a blush. “What mare wouldn’t want to spend a night alone with her…uh…stud muffin?”

Trixie went a step further and pecked Grey on the cheek only to recoil as the unnatural cold of his dark body numbed her pouty lips.

“Trying too hard.” Grey mentally cringed as he fished around in his tenebrous body for adequate compensation for the now confused sales stallions.

“Now, I do not have bits to pay…” He paused to relish the look of abject horror that came over their faces. “…but this should be worth more than fifty bits to even the most conservative of appraisers.”

The stygian stallion placed a polished crystal sigil ring on the table and slid it forward. Flim, Flam, and a few patrons stared wide-eyed at the treasure. While most of the items retrieved from Sombra’s Black Archive were books and artifacts, there were a few simple trinkets that were of only of value now that the empire was a crater.

“You can consider the remainder a tip.” The hooded horse added.

“Holy, I mean…uh… This will do just fine.” The normally eloquent Flim managed to get out. “Flam will take you to your room.”

The brother looked longingly at the Crystal Empire ring for a few more moments before he tore his gaze away and led the ‘lovers’ to their suite on the second floor. As they climbed the stairs, Trixie had a question she wanted to be answered.

“The Scholarly and Inquisitive Trixie wants to know how two unicorns came to be in a thestral colony.” She said after making sure her lips were functioning again.

“My brother and I are entrepreneurs and inventors by trade.” Flam said without his sales pitch voice. “We look for opportunities where ever they may be.”

“But why here?” Grey asked. “Hollow Shades is not exactly a tourist trap.”

“Well, truth be told, this was not our first choice. The Countess charges stiff rent for the plot of land we built on; really drives down our profit margins.” The well-dressed unicorn admitted. “But after our last venture in Ponyville flopped, we could literally not afford to be picky.”

“You too?” The magician gave him a sympathetic look. “For a village built on friendship, they run a lot of ponies out.”

Flam nodded in agreement. Once they were on the second floor, he stopped before a carved door and produced a key to unlock it. Inside the cozy room was a soft couch and dining area with a bottle of cider chilling in an ice bucket. Through an open doorway was a king-sized bed complete with privacy curtains and unlit candles and a full washroom.

“Your first meal will be up shortly.” Flam said as he passed Grey the key. “Thank you for choosing Flim and Flam’s Inn and Tavern.”

Once the owner had left them alone, Trixie immediately made a beeline for the tub. Grey shut the door behind him and inspected the bottle of cider. It bore the likeness of the unicorn brothers and boasted several accolades that the Dark Lord was not certain were genuine.

"I miss my wine." He thought as he replaced the bottle.

“How are our sleeping arrangements going to work?” The shadow stallion asked as the sound of running water came out of the washroom along with the magician’s hat and cape.

“The bed is big enough for two.” Trixie called out as she eased herself into the hot water. “Fair warning: Trixie has been told she talks in her sleep.”

"And I tend to spread out." Grey concurred. "I think I'll just use the couch."

"Well, I'll leave the door unlocked." The unicorn said as she levitated over a bar of soap. "In case you want to lay with Trixie- No! Sleep with Trixie- AH! That's worse! Spend the night with the Great and Powerful Trixie!"

*Splish*

The increasingly flustered mare dunked her head under the water both to wash her mane and hide her embarrassment.

“If I had a mouth, I think I would be smiling.” The hooded stallion shook his head as he looked out the only window in the bedroom at the colony of Hollow Shades. "I'm starting to like her."

While he had not made much progress toward Avernus, he had learned a bit more about what had transpired during his exile. Now, with the world once again wrapped in the night’s tender embrace, he had the opportunity to learn a bit more from the Alicorn that ruled it.

“I suppose it might be worth it to spare an hour to two.” The Lord of Shades mused. "Hopefully I catch her in a good mood."