The inferno devil was already snacking on what little remained of the flaming lamassu as Dim made his cautious approach to the crumbling old watchtower. No sign of the witch just yet, but he could sense her. A sulphurous musk was heavy in the air, something that was almost like burning bat guano. Doubt was already gnawing at him like a ravenous beast; coca was a powerful substance for unicorns as it greatly enhanced spellcasting abilities, increasing both mental and magical endurance. He was at a disadvantage without it and he could already feel the beginnings of fatigue setting in.

Perhaps this was a mistake…

The dirt beneath his hooves began to change as he approached the tower, becoming a bit more pebbled and having what appeared to be shards of volcanic glass in it. He cast a spell on his tender frogs, knowing that an injury would make him bleed out in a short time. A fine black grit could be seen in the dirt, and the lung-burning reek of rotten eggs grew even stronger.

Ahead, Dim could see fire and something moved… something danced?

No, maybe not dancing, as there appeared to be a fight ahead, but Dim couldn’t be sure of what he was seeing. Ducking behind a boulder, he kept his head down and cast a roving eye spell. It was tiring, further depleting his reserves, but he had to know what was going on. As the roving eye manifested, a shimmering soap bubble of magic, Dim’s left eye took on a muted glow. He willed the eye forwards to see what he could see.

The eye zoomed forwards, travelling far faster than Dim could tolerate, and he was overtaken by a powerful sensation of nausea. Since it wasn’t a physical object, the eye really didn’t obey the rules of physics and moved at the speed of thought while still dumping information directly into the brain. It took an extraordinary amount of willpower to keep one’s mind intact while maneuvering a roving eye, which was the reason why this spell was almost never taught.

Ahead, a tall, thin feline figure was engaged in a magical battle with something that made Dim’s vision fuzz over when he looked directly at it. Around the creature was a circle of salt, but even with his less-than-perfect vision, Dim could see that it was not an exact circle, and there were thin, weak places in it. Somepony—something—somekitty? The Jaguar Witch had been in a hurry it seemed and was now paying the consequences as she battled with her own summon. Dim did his best to put the pieces together; he guessed that she had sensed him coming, had summoned the lamassu to buy time, and then conjured up this fell creature to defend herself from him.

Whoops.

The Jaguar Witch made magic with hand gestures and spoken words, which was interesting. Unicorns tended to will magic into existence, save for spells that had a spoken requirement or had a need for spell components. In her right paw, the witch held a glowing spear that ignited Dim’s curiousity, as a quick visual inspection revealed it was something magical.

The Jaguar Witch and the fell creature in the faulty salt circle were exchanging spells and Dim knew this to be folly. Conjured demons, fell creatures, riftlings, and shadowlings all had magic resistance, which had to be overcome somehow before you could even think of hurting them with magic. Dim had once summoned a tiny riftling as a foal and it had taken all of his mother’s magic to banish the impish, prankish little creature.

A fiery burst destroyed the weak salt circle and the fell creature was set free. Uncontrolled, unrestrained, the creature that Dim could not look directly at lept free of its prison, pounced upon the Jaguar Witch, and then proceeded to twist her head off while letting out infernal screeches that Dim could hear from where he was hiding. This was bad, real bad, and Dim wasn’t quite sure of how to deal with it.

The shadowy, wispy fell creature picked up the spear and then with a turn of its head, it looked right at the spot where Dim’s roving eye hovered. A great many sensations overtook Dim’s body all at once, with the chief feeling being that of terror. The creature howled, then lept into action, and began to run down the rocky escarpment in the direction of where Dim was hiding. This was pretty much the worst possible thing that could happen.

He tried to teleport away but found that he couldn’t. This made the situation even worse, and it was then that Dim realised why the Jaguar Witch hadn’t teleported away: she had been unable to do so. Panic rose up from the maelstrom of emotions to join horror, as Dim realised that he had no chance of running away from such a creature.

No, he would have to stand his ground and fight.

“Oh fuck me,” Dim whimpered to himself as he began to make an optimistic retreat while also raising as many spell protections as he could. His hooves slid over the gravel and dirt while he kept his eyes on the advancing imp of unknown origin. The scent of sulphurous musk was strong now, eye-watering and lung-burning. Too late, Dim realised that what he needed to have cast was a fear ward, and he felt his magic beginning to falter as terror overtook him.

Giggling as imps tended to do, the creature loped down the slope, running right at Dim, pumping the spear clutched in its fist over its head. It had a dreadful, maniacal laugh, and that was just about all that Dim knew about it, because he couldn’t see the creature if he looked at it straight on. Shivering, Dim struggled to cast a fear ward, knowing that his life might just depend on it.

The creature moved with supernatural speed and when it was about fifteen or so yards away, it hurled the spear it held at Dim. Frozen in terror, he watched as the deadly missile closed the distance and in the back of his mind, he was impressed by such a throw. Smoke trailed from the spear and the weapon was glistening with the blood from the Jaguar Witch.

At the last second, Dim was able to raise a telekinetic shield, which crackled, fizzled, and was weak from his terror. It didn’t matter though, as the spear passed right through it, phasing through the magic barrier. A fraction of a second later, it struck Dim just below his neck, and sank into his chest. It really was an impressive throw. The shield bubble popped when his concentration broke and as it did, the fell creature drew near just as Dim toppled over into the dirt.

There was a curious sensation as Dim felt himself being drained and he knew that the creature was feeding on him, devouring his emotions. The spear in his chest was painless, or maybe there was so much pain that he couldn’t comprehend it. Perhaps it just hadn’t set in yet. The fell reek of sulphur filled Dim’s nose and for a moment, the creature came into perfect focus. It’s face was indescribable and when it blurred over once more, Dim’s mind tried hard to forget what he had seen.

With a demented howl, the freed conjurling went running off into the night, leaving Dim to die.

Wᴇ ᴍᴇᴇᴛ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ.

The pale pony seemed to flow into existence and beside him, a zebra mare did the same.

Nᴏᴡ I ᴜɴᴅᴇʀsᴛᴀɴᴅ ᴡʜʏ I ᴡᴀs sᴜᴍᴍᴏɴᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀsᴛ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ sᴏ ᴄʟᴏsᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ. Tsᴋ, ᴛsᴋ, ᴛsᴋ.

The pale pony stood there, clucking his tongue while shaking his head from side to side. Beside him, the zebra mare looked sorrowful, as if she was attending a funeral.

Laying in the dirt, Dim began to shiver as strange sensations overtook his body.

There was a flash of lightning that seemed to come out of nowhere and it was accompanied by a thunderclap. Where the lightning had struck, a dark pony now stood, folding his wings and peering down at Dim through narrowed eyes. The unknown stallion pawed the ground with his hoof and there was a terrible, wicked gleam in his eyes.

A Cᴇʟᴇsᴛɪᴀʟ ʟɪᴇs ᴅʏɪɴɢ, ʙᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴅᴇsᴛɪɴʏ ᴡᴀs ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ɴᴇᴇᴅᴇᴅ. Pᴇᴄᴜʟɪᴀʀ.

The pale pony turned to face the newcomer and took a single step forward.

Nᴏ, ʙʀᴏᴛʜᴇʀ, ɴᴏᴛ ᴅʏɪɴɢ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʀᴀɴsғᴏʀᴍɪɴɢ.

The zebra strode forward, but her hooves never came to rest against the earth. No dust rose from where she walked, and the ground remained undisturbed. She left behind no hoofprints, no trace of her passing. When she reached Dim, she lowered her head down, frowned, and then her dreadlocks began to writhe. Reaching out, they grabbed the spear, gave it a yank, pulled it free, and dropped it back down into the dirt.

Wᴇ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙʀᴇᴀᴋ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴜʟᴇs ᴀɴᴅ ғᴀᴄᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏɴsᴇǫᴜᴇɴᴄᴇs.

Deep within his barrel, Dim felt his heart and it was almost as if it was shriveling. A groan came from his lungs and he felt a strange sensation, almost as if drawing air into his lungs caused him pain. Breathing felt wrong somehow and the night seemed to be growing brighter, his vision becoming sharper.

Now, the dark pony drew nearer.

Yᴏᴜ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ʙᴇᴄᴏᴍɪɴɢ ᴀ ʟɪᴄʜ. Tʜᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴄᴇss ɪs ᴜɴᴄᴏᴍғᴏʀᴛᴀʙʟᴇ, ʙᴜᴛ ɪᴛ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ᴏᴠᴇʀ sᴏᴏɴ. I ᴡɪsʜ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴇʟʟ ʏᴏᴜ, ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴏᴘᴛɪᴏɴs. Yᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛᴏ sᴇʀᴠᴇ Gʀᴏɢᴀʀ ᴊᴜsᴛ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴜɴᴅᴇᴀᴅ. Wʜɪʟᴇ Cᴇʟᴇsᴛɪᴀ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴀʟʟᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ ᴇxɪsᴛ ɪɴ ᴛʜɪs ғᴏʀᴍ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ sᴇᴇᴋ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴇsᴛʀᴏʏ ʏᴏᴜ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴀᴄᴛɪᴠᴇʟʏ ᴀɪᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ᴏғ ᴇᴠɪʟ. Yᴏᴜ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ʀᴇᴍᴀɪɴ ɴᴇᴜᴛʀᴀʟ, sʜᴏᴜʟᴅ ʏᴏᴜ sᴏ ᴄʜᴏᴏsᴇ ɪᴛ.

With the rustle of leaves, or maybe of paper, a new pony appeared, one made of parchment. She sprang into existence right beside the tall, dark stallion, raised her wing, and in silence, bade him hello with a wave. Black lines stained her face and neck, and with her horn glowing bright, she lifted up the spear from off of the ground.

Cʜʀᴏɴᴏs, sᴛᴏᴘ ᴛʜɪs ᴀᴛ ᴏɴᴄᴇ. Tɪᴍᴇ ɪs ɴᴇᴇᴅᴇᴅ.

Nᴀᴍᴇʟᴇss Oɴᴇ. I ᴅɪᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴇxᴘᴇᴄᴛ ᴛᴏ sᴇᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴇʀᴇ.

Dim could feel the dreadful transformation coming to a halt and he was caught in some strange in-between place where he wasn’t quite alive, nor was he dead. Undead? He didn’t know. Blood ceased to flow from the gaping hole in his chest, but the icy shivers of the grave remained in his muscles.

“Let us speak as the mortals and the living,” the paper pony said to the others.

“If you insist,” the dark pony replied.

“I never did like all that shouting, it wears me out so,” whined the pale pony.

The zebra snorted and said nothing while her dreadlocks wriggled like agitated serpents.

“Let us not break the rules, but bend them.” The paper pony looked around, meeting each pair of eyes in turn, including Dim’s. With each of her movements, the crinkle of parchment could be heard and tears of black ink began to trickle from the corners of her eyes. “Grogar does not need a potential ally and the world does not need yet another unchecked threat. We also cannot afford to keep disrupting harmony.”

“What do you propose, Nameless One?” The pale pony had a look of bored disinterest upon his face, but something about his eyes were keen. “I for one would like to have one less lich in the world, there are far too many already.”

“I am listening,” the big dark alicorn rumbled. “Let us begin our lawyerly debate, shall we?”

The parchment pony raised the spear that was now slick with the blood of both Dim and the Jaguar Witch. She held it up before her and her strange paper eyes studied its every detail. The shaft was some sort of black wood, made blacker with blood, and the tip was a jagged shard of obsidian. “This,” she began, “is the spear that Ahuizotl used to kill Chantico, and Chantico was the one who created the Hearthfire spell way, way back when Grogar was a threat the first time.”

“Chantico did not die,” Pale interjected, taking part of the lawyerly debate. “I never collected her soul. Using foul magics, Ahuizotl bound her into that spear, which he then used to kill off all of her followers in an attempt to break her enshrinement. Her soul is little more than a flicker now.”

“Wait!” The dark pony raised his hoof. “Who is Chantico?”

This question seemed to exasperate the Nameless One, who snorted in annoyance. “She was the creator of the Hearthfire spell! Equestria was founded with that spell! She wove together the aethereal cords that made Hearthfire possible!”

“Yes, yes, get to it, Nameless One. Not even I can hold back time forever.”

With an annoyed crinkle, the paper pony shot the dark pony a scathing, dagger-launching glance while also baring her paper teeth at him. “Chantico was an enshrined entity,” she began, and she drew in a deep breath so that she could continue her lesson. “She was the goddess of pain and pleasure, the guardian of the family hearth, and she had power over volcanos.”

“So, kinky in the bedroom, useful in the kitchen, and a connoisseur of flame-roasted virgins. Got it. Could we hurry things up? I have dozens and dozens of broken time threads to fix because of that insufferable little bitch, Starlight Glimmer. I should make her clean up her own mess.”

“I hate you so much sometimes, Chronos.” The paper pony had what could only be described as a nettled deadpan.

“She connected other wheres and whens to this where and when, and now those places are bleeding over into this one. She about ruined everything with her meddling. The threads of time keep trying to converge with events that never happened. It’s like a self-repairing rug that is half-unraveled and tangled up with other self-repairing rugs. They don’t want to let go of one another.”

“We all have our burdens,” said the pale pony, whining once more while making his point. “Can you just get on with it? I have a headache and I want some tea—”

“You’re dead,” the dark pony snapped, “now get over it!”

Laying on the ground, Dim continued to linger between life and death.

Shaking the spear in the dark pony’s face, the paper pony was fearless in her antagonising of the larger alicorn. “Chantico knows how to summon Hearthfire at will—”

“What does that have to do with anything?” the dark pony bellowed.

Sucking in a huge, deep breath, the paper pony rustled and crinkled. “Hearthfire can heal, restore, and revive the dead. It can cure Dim before he lapses into lichdom.”

“Oh.” The dark pony’s lips now formed a large round ‘O’ of understanding.

“It did revive those frozen to death by the windigos.” The pale pony’s eyes now focused upon the spear, which dribbled a little blood as the paper pony shook it. “Hurricane, Puddinghead, and Platinum. I had just showed up to collect them only to find I couldn’t. I was peeved that day, let me tell you.”

“So, tell me, Nameless One, what is your plan to revive a slumbering goddess?” the dark pony asked. “Surely you must have one, otherwise you wouldn’t go through all of this trouble.”

“Well, she is enshrined,” the paper pony replied. “She only needs a follower to wake up. Just one believer should rouse her from her nap.”

“So a deathbed conversion?”

“Yes, Chronos. A deathbed conversion.”

“Wait, I don’t like this idea, this Chantico lady, she has control over volcanos—”

“Stop whining and get to the point, Pale.”

“Do we really want him having control over volcanos?” The pale pony asked while pointing at Dim with his hoof.

“I’m alright with it.” The dark pony shrugged.

“Well, I guess…” The pale pony let out a whimper. “Lima, you’ve been quiet.”

“I have nothing to say on this subject.”

“So, the zebra abstains and Pale and I agree. Very well, Nameless One, let us hear your plan…”

Author's Notes:

I'm tired.