I have been called by many names across the aeons, spoken in tongues long since forgotten, as I myself have been forgotten. There once was a time when my name was whispered around campfires in the dead of night, always in hushed tones, lest I overhear a solitary murmur of it and answer my summons. Those who dwell the earth now have heard of me only as legend, passed down from the times before, when monsters still roamed the land. Once, I was viewed as a God. Now, few so much as know my name.

I have been absent for far too long, allowing those that dwell to become complacent, ignorant. They believe that monsters aren't real, that they were just stories told to frighten misbehaving foals.

I think it is time to remind them of why they fear the dark. They will know my name, my wrath.

I am the banished Elder God, and I now awake from my slumber.

Celestia found herself tossing in her sleep, troubled by a vague sense of dread that permeated her dreams. She dreamt that she was walking across the southern gardens on a lovely mid summer morn, with naught but the rustle of the winds and the songs of the birds for company. And yet as she walked, she couldn't fight off the feeling that there was something ominous hanging overhead, though she was unable to spot it despite her best efforts. Slowly, the dreamscape around her began to lose its vividness, as if the color were slowly being sucked out of it. The breeze stilled, the songbirds fell silent. It was as if a grey shroud had descended upon the land, stealing the colors and muting the sound until the silence was tangible. Black storm clouds began to move in from the horizon with terrifying speed. Her nameless terror returned, and Celestia found herself walking briskly in the direction of the castle, of sanctuary. A peal of thunder rent the air, rolling across the sky with all the grace of a landslide. The very sound raised her hackles, bringing her to increase her speed to a swift canter.

A blazing fork of lightning pierced the air, bringing with it another cacophonous peal of thunder. The sky was now nearly as dark as night, and a frigid wind was beginning to kick up. Driven on by her unknowable sense of dread, she redoubled her efforts. It wasn't the storm that troubled her, for she'd seen a number of tempests in her day. No, there was something foul on the wind. The stench of malfeasance was heavy on the breeze, and it was from that she ran, not the storm itself.

As the first heavy drops fell, she abandoned the ground for the air, seeking refuge at the speed of flight. It was luck perhaps that she did so at that moment; no sooner was she in the air than the ground quaked and roiled as wounded serpent might, cleaved by growing chasms that stretched down into blackness most foul. Another peal of thunder, this one different than the previous ones in volume and timbre, echoed from behind her. Flying for all she was worth, she fled the sound. Another quake and peal swept past her, and she succumbed to her curiosity. She twisted her head to look over her shoulder and immediately regretted it. Snapping her head around to the front once more, she flew as fast as her terror could carry her.

Beneath her, the ground shook furiously, a black gash racing over the ground in front of her as the very earth was sundered. Oddly enough, her only thoughts were of the garden, and the amount of work that must be done to repair the cobblestone path and flowerbeds. She was snapped from her musings as an unholy clamor rose from behind her. It was as if the world itself was screaming in agony. Fear and curiosity battled in her mind, and in the end it was curiosity that won out. Turning her head, what she saw conjured a fear in her the likes of which she'd never known. Frozen by terror, her wings locked up and she plummeted toward the gaping maw that had opened in the earth beneath her. Bereft of all reason and abandoned by all hope, she screamed.

Captain Ivory Lance, the Officer of the Guard for the night shift, was making his rounds as usual. He'd found one of the new recruits asleep at his post about a half hour ago, and he couldn't help but smile as he pictured the colt furiously stammering excuses; the recruit was probably only on his second lap around the perimeter wall. It would be a long night for him, but Lance had no doubt that his lesson had sunk in. That colt wouldn't soon be found asleep at his post again. Captain Lance chuckled at this, remembering his own days as a recruit, days long since passed. An earsplitting shriek jarred him from his reverie. In this wing, at this time of night, there was only one being whose shriek that could have been. Without hesitation, he turned and sprinted towards the royal quarters as fast as his hooves could carry him, unsure of what to expect upon his arrival.

Celestia awoke to the sound of her own scream as she thrashed madly in the covers. In her panic, she envisioned her sheets as the cloying embrace of that most fiendish of apparitions that had chased her from sleep. Fighting against her sheets with a strength borne of terror, she managed to throw them off of herself with such force that they sent sprawling the guard that had picked that moment to burst through the door. Chest heaving, Celestia valiantly struggled to catch her breath and calm her racing heart. Outside, there was muffled shouting, though this was of little concern to her. The phantasms of the nightmare were slow to depart, but depart they did. Why then, if the nightmare was over, did Celestia still feel pressed upon by an unknowable terror?

Captain Ivory Lance swore as he struggled against the silken sheets that imprisoned him. No sooner had he pushed open the door to Her Royal Chambers than he was sent sprawling by a soft golden missile. Finally managing to extricate himself before any of the junior guard arrived, Captain Lance stood and composed himself, pushing the door open far more cautiously this second time. Finding no missiles inbound, he swung the door open fully, approaching the figure hunched on the bed with equal parts trepidation and concern. Thrice, Her name he intoned; thrice, silence was his only reply. Venturing closer, he saw that Her eyes were tightly shut, as if against a bright light. She took great, shuddering breaths; deep inhalations and exhalations at a measured pace. Moments passed in silence, broken only by the sound of curious steps halting just outside the threshold of the chamber. When She spoke, it took Captain Lance entirely by surprise; Her honeyed voice was tinged with the bitter vinegar of fear.

"Captain Lance, so good of you to drop by. To what do I owe this visit?" As She spoke, Celestia drew herself up to her full height, managing to look regal and magnificent even in the dead of night, even with a disheveled mane. Lance had encountered many strange things in the castle at night, and had much practice keeping his bearing in most any circumstance. Even so, Her Majesty's response shook him.

"Your Highness, I was responding to a most dire sound emanating from the chambers. Surely, you too must have heard this?"

Celestia turned her gaze towards the Captain of the Guard, sizing him up. He was a fine example of the Guard: standing raptly at attention. His armor gleamed even in the wan moonlight spilling through the window, a finely muscled specimen indeed. And yet, there was a glimmer of uncertainty in his eyes, as if unsure of how to respond to her admittedly unusual behavior. "Relax, Captain. All is well. I found myself amidst a night terror, nothing more. Now that it's passed, I should very much like to return to my slumber, thank you."

Captain Lance nodded once, snapped a crisp salute, and faced about. Shooing the curious onlookers with a stern glare, she lost sight of him as the doors gently closed. With a muffled click, they latched shut, and Celestia allowed her facade to crumble. Her terror had neither vanished nor abated, and she knew that she would find no rest this night. Instead, she made her way to the archives. The creature from her nightmares was unlike any she had ever seen before, and she endeavored to learn more about it if she could. And even if there should be nothing relevant in those dusty pages, the smell of ancient ink and parchment had always soothed her. Resolute, she set off into the depths of the archive's tomes.

In her sleep, a lavender mare tossed and turned, her dreams fraught with ill omens.

Deep within the bowels of the earth, in a place forgotten by time itself, a maleficent being slowly came awake. After millennia of death-like slumber, this was an achingly slow process. Shaking loose the detritus that had accumulated atop its form, the creature stirred with great effort. The great basalt citadel stood silent as a tomb, save for the whispers of madness in the dark. Across the vast expanse of time since its banishment, the vile creature had lain in slumber, awaiting the day that it would rise once more and bestow darkness upon the world. The time was not yet at hand, though it drew near.

The eldritch terror needed a way to prepare the world above for its coming, someone to act as its envoy and sew the seeds of terror and discord. Twisting the shadows together and against themselves, the terrible creature formed a being in the likeness of those who dwelt above. An incredibly small quadruped figure with a disproportionate head stared blankly back. It was but a husk, lacking any of the faculties of a sapient being. To grant it such, the dread creature tore a fragment of a soul from beyond space and time, placing it within the golem of shadows. With a gasp and a convulsion the golem shook, falling weakly to its knees. For weakness, the Elder One had no time.

Siphoning a miniscule fragment of its terrible might, the eldritch creature funneled it into the golem, which again convulsed. As the cataclysmic power coursed through its body the golem ignited under the onslaught, power surging through its mortal frame like lightning through a cotton thread. The green flames of eldritch power enveloped the golem but did not burn it, as it was from within the golem that the flames sprung. The Elder One commanded the flames to quench, and they were snuffed as if they'd never blazed.

"Rise," it commanded the golem, and rise the golem did. "Go forth unto the world and warn them of my resurgence. My demand is for a thousand of those who dwell above to be my offering. I've slumbered for ages, and I hunger. Should they fail, I shall decimate the land to sate my hunger. It's high time they remembered why they fear the dark. Go forth, golem, and do my bidding."

The golem nodded, and with a flash of blackness sheathed in purple, disappeared.

It was at this point that everything went awry, as the shade channeled the Elder One’s dark magic into a teleportation spell. The fabric of space was torn asunder as the shade slammed into a magical barrier. The obstacle was made by forces even older and more powerful than the one that had called the shade into being, yet it was unable to stop the shade entirely. The barrier had been emplaced to imprison a banished God, not a shade. As small as the shade was, with as much power as had been endowed to him, he was able to pierce the veil and pass through. Despite its failure to contain the shade, the barrier was successful in disrupting its passage greatly. In tearing through the barrier the shade had also torn open the darkness between space, sending him careening out of control into a place he was not meant to be. He appeared in a dimension far removed from the one he’d departed, suspended nearly a dozen meters above the earth. It took him just over a second to hit the ground, his head bouncing off the packed gravel like a child's toy. A moment of incredible pain, bright as a solar flare, and then it all went black.

Twilight awoke with a jolt as a loud thump sounded outside her home. The first streaks of dawn were breaking the horizon, and she found herself mildly annoyed that she was up so early. Had it been an hour earlier that she'd been disturbed, there would still be time to go back to sleep. An hour later, and she would have likely been roused by Spike or her alarm spell. As it was, however, she was awakened at the perfect time to deprive her of much needed rest. Her annoyance getting the best of her, Twilight poked her head out of the upper window, intent on giving whoever had disturbed her a piece of her mind. What greeted her below stole the wind from her sails of indignation, and before she had consciously processed it she’d already teleported beside the broken form on the gravel below.

The figure was sprawled along the path to town, bleeding profusely from a gash to the head. Instinctively, Twilight cast a healing spell on the wound, the flesh knitting back together before her eyes. The flow of blood slowed, then stopped as it was stemmed by the spell. The unconscious colt briefly flirted with consciousness as his eyes fluttered open, only to flutter close once more with a weak moan. From the look of things, this pony was in bad shape and in need of medical attention. With a flash of lavender light and a loud "pop", she teleported them both to the clinic in the heart of town.

Her sudden arrival in the waiting room with a bloody and unconscious pony caused quite a stir, to put it mildly. In the blur of activity that ensued, she was questioned by a half dozen nurses on just what had happened to the fellow. Time and time again, Twilight told her tale. Time and again, she faced the question "is that all?", as if she were trying to hide something. Quickly running low on patience, she wanted nothing more than to go home and pour herself a nice tall mug of coffee and try to put this behind her. Compounding her annoyance was the fact that she had yet to eat breakfast, something her stomach continuously reminded her of as she filled out a number of forms.

It would seem, to her further annoyance and incredulity, that Ponyville had a hospitality law left over from the pioneer days. As the nurse administering the paperwork explained, Twilight was not yet free to leave and sate her hunger. Simply put, this law dictated that anypony who was brought to the clinic that had no family able to claim them became the ward of the pony that had brought them to the clinic. The law had originally been written based on the notion that if you cared about somepony enough to drag them to the clinic, you cared enough about them to watch over them until they were healed. In some ways, this was still valid, while in other ways it was little more than a burden. At any rate, it was of no concern to Twilight, as she signed the release and was soon on her way home to the warm coffee and oatmeal awaiting her there.

Twilight may have been tired, hungry, grumpy, and generally unhappy that morning, but she read the terms and conditions before she signed. It wasn't until later, however, as she brooded over a steaming mug of coffee, that it fully dawned on her what she'd just agreed to. If this strange pony had no family to speak of, then she would have to take him in and nurture him. With a pained groan, Twilight smacked her face into the table. Hopefully, this odd unicorn she'd never seen before had family in town. Otherwise... Well, she tried not to think about that. Groaning, she reached for the pot of coffee. This was going to be a long day.

In a dim room at the Ponyville clinic, a tar black pony tossed against white sheets. Visions of death and destruction are the only reality he knows, trapped inside a nightmare too vivid to be anything but real.

He stands atop a slight hill, the bloody light of a crimson dawn breaking in the east. Before him lies the aftermath of a slaughter beyond the scope of words, torrents of blood flowing in crimson rivulets betwixt mounds of dismembered limbs and viscera. There is no sound but that of the breeze gently whispering past; there are no survivors to cry out. The sodden ground is stained crimson with gore and scorched black in various places. The coppery smell of blood and death is the only scent to be found, save for the occasional fleeting stench of charred bones and flesh. Scavengers were just beginning to arrive at the slaughter, carrion eaters presiding over an infinite banquet.

The golem finds his dream-self laughing, pleased beyond measure with his handiwork. The golem knew that this was the product of his own labors, though he knew not how or why this was done. Instead, he was conflictingly filled with satisfaction and desire at once; satisfaction for the carnage that had been wrought thus far, and desire for more. More blood, more death… there must be more. There will be more. The golem felt a rage and a lust for blood that was colder than the most arctic depths burning within him. Dark whispers murmured just beyond the edge of his consciousness, hints of a purpose that he’d forgotten. Alas, they slipped through his grasp whenever he tried to focus on them, as if they were nothing more than the idea of smoke.

The dark pony awoke suddenly, jolting back to consciousness as if his mind was dropped from a great height into his own body. He recalled in explicit detail the visions he’d seen, for they were too real to be dreams. Be they of the past or the future he could not tell, only that they were woven into the fabric of time at some point along the great tapestry. The urge to destroy and slaughter had abated significantly, but not entirely. Seeking an outlet, the dark pony looked for something to destroy. The only thing within reach was a glass vase holding a single red flower, sitting atop the nightstand to his right. Reaching out a shaky limb, he pushed the vase over and chuckled in anticipation of the sound of shattering glass.

The sound never materialized. Instead, the vase slowly reappeared, unbroken, sheathed in a cerulean glow as it floated back to the nightstand. No sooner had it been replaced atop the nightstand than he became aware of a presence to his left. The dark pony turned to see who or what it was that intruded on his destruction. He turned just in time to see the cerulean glow of a horn slowly fade, and he was able to put two and two together and deduce that this pony was the one that had thwarted his attempted destruction.

The dark pony’s glare was met by an nonplussed stare from the azure mare standing in the doorway. “Well, it’s good to see that you’re awake,” she stated matter-of-factly. “How are you feeling?”

The question caught him slightly off guard, but he quickly recovered. “I… uh, fine, I guess.” The blue pony seemed to accept this, nodding and scribbling something on a clipboard.

Again the level gaze returned to meet the dark pony’s glare. “Can you tell me your name, sir?”

This question was much harder to respond to. The dark pony didn’t know how to answer, drawing a blank whenever he tried to remember his name. His hesitation succeeded in drawing a raised eyebrow from the mare with the clipboard as his glare faltered. What is my name? he thought. Indeed, it was more than just his name that eluded him; he could recall nothing whatsoever prior to his vision of death and destruction. All he could recall was a vague feeling of shadows in darkness.

The impression of shadows seemed to call to him, and from it a singular word emerged; ‘Shade’. “I think,” came the mumbled reply, “that my name is Shade. I can’t remember much, but I think that’s what I am.”

The mare with the clipboard nodded, scribbling furiously. Her eyebrow raised a little at the ‘what I am’ comment, but she didn’t question it, on account of the head trauma. After a moment of silence broken only by the scratch of quill on parchment, the mare spoke up. “Okay, Shade. It appears that you are experiencing something known as ‘retrograde amnesia’, which means that you can’t remember certain things from before your head trauma. While your case appears to be more pronounced than usual, it’s still likely that your memory will return as the swelling goes down and the pressure in your skull is relieved. Do you have any family or friends in town that you can stay with for a while?”

Shade shook his head. He couldn’t remember any of his family, but he had a distinct impression that they were quite far away. The blue mare nodded, flipping through a few sheets of paper until she apparently found what she sought. After a curt “please excuse me for a moment,” she stepped out into the hall and flagged down another nurse. After a brief exchange, she reentered the room. “Well, Shade, don’t worry about a thing. We’ve contacted someone to come down here and take care of you until you’re well enough to contact your family and arrange for them to meet you. She’ll be here shortly.”

Unsure of how to respond, Shade simply nodded. He had no idea who this mysterious mare was, attributing it to the amnesia. Maybe she was a friend of his, and could shed some light on the situation, perhaps even help him remember some things about his past. Trying to remember anything before his vision proved futile; the only thing that he could even halfway remember was a recollection of immense pain, though he could not recall how or why he’d been in such pain in the first place.

At some point in his musing, the blue nurse that had been standing in the doorway had vanished, presumably to check on other patients. Seizing the opportunity, Shade took a swipe at the vase once more. His hoof connected with a satisfying thud, sending the glass and flower spiraling end over end… right onto the bed opposite his. To add insult to injury, it even landed mostly upright, leaning against the pillow as if placed there intentionally.

Frustration and disappointment welled within him, and Shade found himself focusing his malcontent on the source of his consternation: the vase. As he did so, the vase exploded violently, shards of glass trailing a foul purple flame streaking across the room and embedding themselves deeply into the walls. Simultaneously taken aback and satisfied, Shade marveled at what he’d done. While a bit more flashy than he’d intended, the end result was the same. His lust for destruction temporarily quenched, he sighed contentedly.

His momentary bliss was interrupted by a commotion arising outside the door.

A mare’s voice emerged from the din of the hallway. “-telling me that this colt really can’t remember who he is or where he’s from? Not even a little?”

A different, yet familiar, voice answered her. “Unfortunately, yes. He genuinely can’t recall anything about his life before the incident. We’re not even sure that he remember’s that, to be honest. He barely remembers his name. Don’t worry, Twilight,” the blue nurse said, “He’ll likely begin to recover his memory in a day or so as the swelling goes down. Until then, he’s being placed into your care.”

The voices had been growing closer, accompanied by a pair of hoofbeats on tile, until the pair were standing just outside of the door. Under her breath, Twilight muttered “It’s a stupid law, anyways.” Blue Nurse shot Twilight a glare that could curdle milk, drawing a meek “sorry” from the lavender mare.

Blue Nurse held her glare for a moment more before nodding. “I thought so. Twilight, meet your charge: Shade; Shade,” she intoned, nodding at the dark pony, “meet Twilight. You’ll be staying with her for a while as you recover.”

They greeted each other with a shy smile and a slight nod, equally unsure of how to deal with this latest development. Blue Nurse looked back and forth, from one to another, before shaking her head and walking away. Just before she walked through the doorway, she called over her shoulder, “Shade, you’re released. You can leave with Twilight whenever you are ready.”

That was all he needed to hear. As Shade moved to get onto his hooves, a wave of white swept across his vision, nearly causing him to pass out. Steadying himself until the sensation passed, Shade found a slight purple aura around himself, supporting him. Looking towards Twilight, he saw that her horn was sheathed alike in purple. Shade muttered a thanks, as he attempted to get on his hooves once more, though a bit more slowly this time. This second attempt, his vision only went grey, and he was able to maintain his balance unaided. Looking towards his new caretaker, Shade gave a curt nod, and they set out into the hallway.

Ugly green linoleum met equally ugly yellow walls, painted in stark contrast by the sterile light of fluorescent tubes. The smell of astringent was stronger in the hallway, a sharp scent that cut through the rest. There was a distant sound of bustle, but for the moment the hallways was devoid of anypony but them. Twilight cast a furtive towards Shade, clearing her throat after a moment. “Uh, *ahem* Shade? Erm, so where are you from?”

Looking back at her, Shade considered his answer for a moment before replying. “Honestly? I have no idea. I can barely remember my name, if it even is my name.”

The lavender mare hung her head, mumbling under her breath, “Of course you don’t.”

They walked in silence for a while, Twilight navigating the corridors on autopilot as Shade tagged along obediently. It wasn’t until they emerged into the midday sun that they spoke again; this time, it was Shade that broke the silence. “So, Twilight? Where are we?”

An exasperated sigh preceeded a response, drawing a bit of ire from Shade, though he said nothing. “We’re in Ponyville, Shade. It’s a small town in a land called Equestria. More specifically, we’re in the downtown portion, where most of the town’s shops are located.”

“Oh,” came Shade’s reply. After a moment, another question made its way into his thoughts. “Twilight? Where do you live?”

Again, she sighed. This time, however, Shade wasn’t so inclined to hold his tongue, interrupting her impending reply. “Oh, I’m sorry for bothering you with my total amnesia. How inconvenient it must be for you to have to answer the stupid questions I have about where I am and where I’m going to be living until I can be dumped onto someone else.”

Shade’s reply was a tad angrier than he’d meant it to be, but this was a pretty stressful event for him. Not knowing even the first thing about who you are or you place in the world can do that to ponies.

Twilight sighed again, but with defeat this time. “You’re completely right, I’m sorry. I’ve got no right to be upset, and I sincerely apologize. Whatever complaints I have pale against what you’re dealing with. I’ll be more considerate from now on, okay?”

Shade nodded, thankful. “I’d really appreciate that. Can we start again?”

Twilight nodded, smiling for the first time since he’d met her. “Yeah, I’d like that. My name is Twilight Sparkle, and I’m the town librarian. The town we’re in right now is known as Ponyville, in the nation of Equestria. I live in the library with my baby dragon named Spike. I’ve gone ahead and prepared a room for you, in case you had to stay with me for a while.”

At this point Shade interrupted. “Wait, how did you know I’d be staying with you?”

Twilight chuckled a bit, an oddly comforting sound. “To be completely honest, I was hoping I wouldn’t have to. In town we’ve got a law that states anypony who is injured and has no family or friends available to take care of them, becomes the ward of the pony that brought them to the clinic. I was hoping you’d either be fully recovered or have family in town. But, it’s alright. We’ll make the best of it until we can get your memory back and get you back to the life you’ve left behind.”

The last sentence resonated with Shade, evoking sadness, worry, and confusion. What sort of life had he lived? Was his family looking for him? Did they miss him? Did anypony? Twilight saw him looking suddenly downtrodden, and immediately began apologizing.

“Aww, I’m sorry. I know this is difficult, and I didn’t mean to make you sad. I don’t want you to think I’m trying to get rid of you, either, because that’s not true. I just want you to recover as quickly as possible so you can get your life back.”

Shade nodded, trying to squash the helpless feeling in his chest. “I know, thank you for all you’re doing for me. It’s just a lot to take in at once… Do you think they miss me?”

Twilight blinked in surprise for a moment before her eyes softened and creased with a smile. “I’m sure they do, Shade. We just have to find out who ‘they’ are. And then… well, who knows. Let’s take it day by day for now.”

Shade nodded, feeling a bit of confidence well in his chest. Things might be bad right now, but at least he had a new friend to help him find his way. Suddenly, Twilight came to a stop in front of a massive tree. Turning to face Shade she smiled broadly, gesturing with an outstretched hoof. “Welcome home!”

Author's Notes:

So, I may have tripped and fallen into a wee bit of inspiration concerning a half-formed story concept I'd started about two years ago. With my newfound inspiration and (hopefully) soon-to-be surplus of spare time, I plan to get this story out as quickly as possible so I don't have time to procrastinate. But, we'll see how that goes.

Fans of H. P. Lovecraft should enjoy this story (again, hopefully).

Feedback is always welcome!