The ritual was prepared. The symbols inscribed on the floor were foolproof. He had worked on them for several months now, drudging up the most obscure texts possible to double, triple and quadruple check that there was no flaw in the calculations. It was foolproof, it had to be. If there was any mistake, any angle of approach not accounted for... eternal damnation was almost a guarantee.

The symbols were all drawn around a single circle, so perfect in its geometry one would think a machine had designed it. But it wasn't, it was the figure that kneeled before the circle, chalk in hand, that had drawn it. Fueled by months and months of obsessive calculations, it was finally complete.

The man -or rather, the boy- brushed his hair out of his eyes, and scanned the lines of symbols surrounding the circle once more. When he reached the end, he closed his eyes and sighed deeply- it was done. The only thing remaining was actually performing the ritual.

The boy stood up and brushed away the tangled mess of hair falling into his eyes, then put the piece of chalk into the pocket of his faded jeans. With an annoyed grimace, he brushed back his hair and pulled up the hood of the black hoodie he wore, to hold it in place. He then walked across the room, his bare feet slapping loudly against the wooden floor with every step.

There was hardly any furniture present inside, only an armchair next to a large table, upon which piles and piles of books laid scattered, and a single large chest lined up against the wall, which the boy walked over to and opened. From the jumbled mess of parchments, feathers, rattles and cloth within, he retrieved two white candles and matches.

He hurried back over to the circle, placing the two candles at opposite ends, and gave a final glance towards the symbols. Holding his breath, he struck a match and lit the candles, then carefully stepped back.

He could feel the circle slowly charging, drawing energy from the small flames, traveling through the symbols and activating them. One by one, a small glow started emanating from them, one compounding upon the energy from the next; a single symbol linking with another, and a third, and what was singular letters slowly began creating a sentence, instructions, as their meanings and nature knitted together into a unified whole.

The boy held out his hands and reached out with his other senses, carefully touching upon the strands of energy weaving themselves together in the circle. He felt as the final pieces fell into place, and a chime resounded within his head, then settled into a song, playing in the background of his mind. The magic was harmonized and safe for use.

With his eyes wide, he stepped inside the circle and sat down between the candles. His heart began to beat faster and faster as fear and doubt began to surface within his mind, hungry for his attention, threatening to undermine him. With an effort of will he let go of everything else, and focused only on his racing heart.

“Slower,” he thought, forcing his breathing to remain calm and deep. “Slower.... slower... slower.”

His could feel as his heart began to synch with his mind, slowing to his command, settling into the rhythm of his breathing.

“Slower... slower... slow... slow...”

“Slow.”

“Slo...”

“Sl...”

Mist surrounded him, a landscape of billowing white and darkness. There were no moon or stars present in the sky, instead it towered over the landscape in a matted grey. The only light present instead came from the mist itself, shining ghostly pale.

He could barely see further than his arms could reach, and the mist swirled with an otherwordly fervour, stirring in hunger at the new being present within its fold.

The boy swallowed hard. He could feel his own form and how vulnerable it was. He glanced down and saw that he was a solid black, his shape nothing more than a cloaked shadow. He needed to hurry. The circle had done its job, and he could feel a bubble of protection around him as he reached out with his senses. With a smile, he felt that the ritual had done its job, and also gave him a sense of direction. Like an invisible beacon, it would guide him forward to what had been promised him.

He didn't hesitate. He didn't have the time to waste on second thoughts now, he had no choice left anyway.

He walked through the mist, watching for the smallest sign that he was not alone. If he was found, things would not end well for him. And if he got lost, things would simply end for him. But he pushed such thoughts aside.

He could feel it now- his goal. It radiated power, its energies unmistakable, even through the mist. He continued forward, and time passed at an unknown pace, having nothing to be measured by. The boy could feel the goal calling to him, like the warmth of the sun radiating through an unseen veil; unseen, but felt.

And yet... he could not feel himself growing closer to it...

The thought snuck into his mind unbidden, unwanted, and dangerous. He stopped, pushing it away at first, but ever so slowly it crept forward, and he was forced to consider it. It only took a few moments before he realized it was right.

“WHY!? It was foolproof, it was PERFECT!” he hissed to himself.

The thought echoed within him too strongly, and from his spirit shell it took form, spreading out as sound into the mist around him. He froze in fear, straining to sense any movement, any hint of another entity present.

Nothing.

He sighed in relief, then thought back to his symbols. Had something gone wrong? The ritual was flawless, it had every single dimension possible accounted for! There should be no way he could be detected, or rejected. He should be invisible! He could feel it beckoning- he knew where it was! But why couldn't he reach it?

What was missing?

“Hehe! I thought it'd be obvious,” a voice spoke from the mist.

The boy spun around, his eyes frantically searchin,, but he saw nothing but the mist surrounding him.

“Come now, you should know better than this. I heard you were pretty smart and held promise, but this little trip of yours doesn't really speak in your favor,” the voice continued in an amused tone.

“Maybe you haven't figured it all out yet,” the boy spoke back, managing to keep his voice steady.

Laughter trickled in from every direction, and the boy spun around once again, but saw nothing.

“You're really not that hard to figure out- but if you want, I can try and pretend you're at least mildly competent for the rest of this conversation.”

“What do you want?” the boy asked quietly, unable to keep his voice from trembling.

“What, so quick to the point? Not even trying to fool me into giving something away with some clever trick? Maybe They were wrong about you.”

“Maybe they weren't,” the boy responded, forcing a measure of confidence into his voice.

“HA! There you go, a proper attempt to stall for time and get me to give something away. Maybe you got it in you after all. And if you haven't, at least I'll have some entertainment coming my way.”

“How do you figure?” the boy asked, eyes still searching for any sign of the speaker.

“Well, I am your only way out of here, so unless you want to take up permanent residence...”

“No, no I don't want that,” the boy admitted quietly.

“Indeed, no one wants to remain lost forever. But to get to what you want isn't going to be an easy journey, especially not the way you keep acting.”

“Which would be?”

“Stupidly.

“Got this far, didn't I?” The boy spat, anger flaring up inside him.

“Yes, you managed to dig yourself into a hole you'd never manage to climb out of, congratulations, stuck in limbo! Do you want your dumbass award now or would you prefer to have it sent to your home?”

“I missed something, didn't I? Some final ingredient I didn't get right? But what!? It was so perfect...” the boy trailed off.

“Heh, missed the most obvious part, actually,” the voice snorted.

“Which would be?”

“Now, now, that would be telling, and knowledge like that never comes for free. You know that.”

The boy sighed. “ I know. So you want something to get me out of here, and you want something else for teaching me what was missing, right? That's why you appeared?”

“Yes... two favours for two favours, sounds fair?” The voice whispered, not even trying to hide its glee.

“We will enter into a pact, then... but for me to do that, I'd need to know your name,” the boy answered back, tensing himself as he awaited a response.

A deep and mocking laughter answered him. “Ohh, that's right, I almost forgot that we haven't even introduced ourselves properly.” Without a sound, a man stepped forth from the mist.

He was naked from the waist up, displaying a musculature that hinted at speed rather than strength, and from the waist down, he wore a black pair of pants in scraps of leather sewn together with large threads of sinew, ending in boots of a similar make. Wild and unkempt dark hair graced his head, and beneath it was a gaunt and narrow face, with sharp lines dominated by a hawkish nose.

“Shit,” the boy muttered, recognizing the figure from one of his books. “Loke.”

“Recognized my good looks, did you?” the god smiled, then brushed his fingers against his chest, and conjured up a bright red apple with a snap of his fingers.

“Something like that...” the boy responded, thinking back to all the accompanying warnings concerning dealings with tricksters, especially the godly kind.

“So, first part of our deal will be getting you out of here. Easily done, however...”

“Yes?” the boy sighed.

“The price for this aid is doing me a favour. A completely altruistic one, of course.”

“Of course,” the boy responded dryly.

“See, you're not the only soul lost in limbo at the moment. There is another here that does not belong, much like you, but the poor thing has no idea what's going on. I think it would only be right for a handsome and charming god to give a helping hand... even if it is through an average-looking and unpleasant proxy,” Loke told him, giving his version of a warm and open smile before biting into the apple.

“If you're so keen on helping wayward souls for free, why not start with the one in front of you?” the boy asked in a tired voice.

“You're not cute. Now, get to work and collect the other soul so we can get out of here,” the god instructed and waved him off.

“How am I-”

“I can't be expected to do everything, now can I? Come on, prove you're worth helping and put some effort into it,” Loke interrupted, apple juice dribbling down his chin.

Gritting his spiritual teeth, the boy turned around and walked a few paces, then closed his eyes and reached out with his mind. There weren’t a lot of things present in limbo, and distance was relative; all you needed was the connection.

And so, he searched, scanning his surroundings, reaching ever further and further out with his senses. At first, he felt only the mist, a light thing easily brushed past, holding nothing permanent or solid within, a thing indefined and uncomitted. Eventually, as he began to strain himself, the god's presence appeared, somehow oily and smouldering at the same time.

But there was something else... something small, barely perceptible, and the boy struggled with all his might to try and grasp it. Little by little, its presence grew, and although it felt just as light as the mist, it was clearer, stronger.

Where the mist was a murky soup undivided in and of itself, the soul was like a crystal, refined and untainted. It was so clear he was surprised he hadn't felt it before- but maybe it had been there all along, just in front of him, waiting for him to grasp at it.

“Can you hear me?” he spoke towards the soul, letting his thoughts shape themselves into whatever words and language the being could understand.

“Hello?! Is anypony out there? Hello?” it responded, the voice high and lilting- a woman's voice.

“Give me a second,” he replied, concentrating on the soul, feeling its energies grow closer and closer, until...

He opened his eyes, and found a small creature standing before him. Although the spirit was wavering, flickering like an image struggling to maintain its form, it was distinctly equine and horse-like; though maybe a bit chubbier and shorter than the kind he was used to.

Its shape was pure white, and some purplish water seemed to flow around its head and neck and cascaded in an arch behind her as a tail- most likely some residual imprint of what had been its hair. Curiously, there was a trio of brilliantly clear diamonds burning brightly on her side. A magical symbol, perhaps?

But even more curious was the fact that it appeared to have a horn jutting out from its forehead.

“You gotta be shitting me,” the boy said, staring at the creature.

“No joke,” Loke interjected, appearing next to him, still chewing his apple. “Should be very entertaining, though. “

“How the hell are we supposed to get it out of here?!” the boy hissed. “Where does it even come from? The aura is just all kinds of weird.”

“From a time long ago in a galaxy far, far away,” the god said with a dramatic flourish.

“What?”

“You really need to get out more. She's not a local, dumbass, hence why it's important to get her out of here. If she stays in limbo, it might cause all kinds of issues.”

“That doesn't sound right. It's limbo, what could go wrong from her remaining here?” the boy asked while looking over at the creature thoughtfully.

“I'm not taking any risks today, I'm here on official business, after all,” the god responded with a wry smile.

“Hello, I don't know if you can understand me, but I ne-” the unicorn spoke, but the god held up a hand, and she immediately fell silent.

The boy stared at the trickster lord, pure dread creeping into his voice. “You mean...”

“Well, duh. Didn't think this little misadventure of yours would really escape Their notice, did you? They’re THE powers, and some jury-rigged sygils aren't going to keep Them from seeing what you're up to,” the god told him, his wry smile spreading into a wolfish grin.

“Shit,” the boy breathed and put his hands over his face. “Fuck, shit, fuck... fuck...”

“Yeah, yeah, spare us the pity party. You got caught, and now comes the fun part, since I'm the one sent here to deal with you,” Loke told him gleefully, pulling the boy’s hands away from his face. “But first, we're getting out of here.”

“How, with that?” the boy asked, and pointed at the unicorn.

“Well, the poor thing seems to be in quite a predicament- it has no body to return to. Actually, it probably has; it's definitely still alive and bound to a physical vessel, but it doesn't have any line leading back to it. Which means getting out of here involves binding her to some flesh vehicle she can hitch a ride in...” the god explained, watching the boy with the same wolfish grin.

It took a second for the words to sink in, and when they did, the boy could only stare at the god, then slowly shifted his eyes to the unicorn.

“No. Fucking. Way,” he whispered.

“Yes fucking way. There's no other choice, unless.... nah, not gonna mention that,” the god said, looking up into the sky and whistling innocently.

“Just tell me, you pompous asshole!” the boy snapped.

“Ah-ah, manners. But, if you find the idea of helping a lost soul not worth the time and effort, I can simply leave it here,” Loke told him and shrugged, throwing away what was left of his apple.

“Thought you said that would cause trouble,” the boy pointed out.

“Maybe, maybe not. But regardless, the decision will have been yours, and whatever consequences that follow will stem from you.”

The boy looked over at the creature, and reached out with his metaphysical senses. He could feel its fear, its confusion, and the faint hope that all was not lost. But possession was no small matter, and if the creature was as alien as it seemed, then it could have serious consequences; insanity the least of them.

He hesitated, then dug deeper, the nature of limbo helping him sink lower into the strangers mind. His eyes widened when he realized it did indeed have a spark of magic, although it was distinctly different, but magic was present within it, no doubt. That might make it ever more difficult.

What if it turned on him, what if it became emotional and lashed out? Was it worth the risk, letting this lone soul in?

Of course, it wasn't permanent, or completely a fusion of souls. It would be shallow, the connection, a single step inside, no more. And if it screwed him over, he could kick it out. Still...

“Boring, time's up,” Loke announced with a yawn, and snapped his fingers, and the mist exploded into a raging storm at his command.

“Wha-” was all the boy managed to utter before the mist crashed into him, sending him stumbling. He could feel limbo itself rising up and forcing him out, breaking down his ritual’s protection and leaving him powerless.

Through the mist he could see the creature, caught up in the same torrent of power he was, but she had no body to be sent back into...

For a brief moment, he met her blue eyes, and he looked into her, her soul exposed with all its fear and hope laid bare. For that tiny instant, he could see into the very heart of the lost soul, and amidst all its fear, confusion and anger, what he saw was... beauty.

With an effort of will, he wrenched what power there was still left in his ritual, tore it free and focused it towards the unicorn, grasping at her soul desperately. Like a warm wave her presence washed over him, and he could feel her grasping for him in return.

But it didn't last. Instead her presence washed over him and faded, then washed over again, each time more desperate than before.

With a jolt of fear, he realized it wasn't enough for her to be open to him, his own protections and self wasn't letting her come in. She might be open to him, but his own soul remained closed to her, and there was nothing for her to hold onto.

The mist roared, and the power that ripped into them both was overwhelming. His hold on limbo shattered, and reality dissolved all around him. The only thing still real was her, but he knew the connection would be ripped apart in moments.

He felt her wash over him a final time, and closed his eyes. He shaped his will, harnessing all his focus, willing himself to simply let go of himself, and then, he felt something within open up, and reach out to grasp her.

The world broke away, and darkness swallowed them both, but he didn't care; at that moment, beauty filled his soul.

“What's your name?” he asked her calmly as they fell through nothingness.

“My name...” she answered, and he could feel her searching for it, grasping at what she had almost forgotten. “My name... is Rarity.”

“My name's Erik,” he told her calmly, cradling the warmth of her soul as they fell through darkness.

With a wrenching sensation, the boy felt himself flung back into his body. The candles around him extinguished all at once, snuffed out by the abrupt shattering of his ritual. His breath returned to him, raggedly, painfully, and he blinked his eyes open.

His vision came to him only as a blur, and he carefully tried to stand, feeling the pricking of needles shooting through his legs as blood rushed back into them.

“Hello?! Hello, can anypony hear me?!” a voice shrilled within his skull, and he grabbed his head with a wince.

“ARGH! Calm down, you're gonna made my head explode,” he shouted back, and tried to focus his eyes.

“Where are we? What happened? I can barely see anything! Can somepony please explain what's going on!?” the voice shrilled all the louder, eliciting another wince from the boy.

Eventually, shapes began to appear within his vision, and the boy stumbled towards the only door present in the room and opened it. On the other side was a small and dingy kitchen, with old dishes in the sink and a single table and chair present, crammed into what little open space there was.

He hurried over to and started rummaging through one of the drawers inside, until he finally found a box of aspirin, He quickly popped one out and threw it into his mouth, then filled a glass with water and washed it down.

For a moment, he just stood there, feeling the throbbing pain in his head intermingle with the shrill mental voice of an incorporeal unicorn demanding answers, and simply sighed.

“That's what you get for doing the right thing.”