Ebony ran. He ran as fast as his legs would carry him. His lungs burned for air, every muscle in his body felt like it would burst into flame. His ruined, featherless wings beat frantically against the air; they were no longer strong enough to lift him off the ground, but they gave his run the little bit of extra speed he needed. Still he ran across the barren countryside with no goal, no shelter in sight. All he could do was keep running. A sheet of simple, concentrated darkness chased him across the land. Other ponies might think it was just the coming of nightfall, but Ebony knew better. He was hunted by the Eye of the Grave.

The only sound for miles around was the slamming of hooves against earth, and Ebony's labored breathing. If not for the distinctive chill of his approaching doom, he would never know it was coming until it was too late. He could feel that chill now; it seeped into his bones, slowing him down. If he didn't find somewhere to take cover soon, it would be the end of him - him, and a great deal of other things.

As if to answer his unspoken prayers, a familiar-looking stone tower began to appear far on the horizon. It was better than nothing, at least - granted he could even make it that far. They always thought it was funny to build outposts dozens of miles apart, didn't they? he thought. Despite his body's protests, he managed to pick up the pace. The tower was still far off in the distance, though, and he couldn't keep this up for long. Damnit, I didn't come this far just to get caught on their doorstep.

His bones were freezing. His muscles burned. Time slowed to a crawl; a few seconds became an eternity, and each step took him no closer to the safe haven in the distance. I need a miracle. Ebony closed his eyes, hoping against hope. He began to feel the chill of the grave leave him - somehow or another, he was pulling ahead. He opened his eyes just in time: suddenly he was only a few steps from the tower's iron door. With no time to divert his momentum, all he could do was get his head out of the way for a shoulder barge. With a kick and a mighty flap of his ruined wings, he lifted off the ground and threw all of his weight at the door.

The door crashed open, spilling him onto the floor inside the tower. He struggled to gather his wits after the impact - it was still after him, and it was not far behind. He scrambled onto his four hooves, jumped up and kicked the door shut; now he was sealed inside in relative safety, and that particular brand of darkness was stuck out there.

Just as he sighed in relief, his voice mixed with a number of hungry groans. Ebony let out a groan of his own - out of the fire, straight back into the frying pan. He turned to face the source of the voices: half a dozen walking corpses, the dead of the long-extinct Drilam race. They must have been some nasty folk, for even their dead could not rest.

The Drilamic form was the stuff of nightmares. They stood up on two legs instead of four, towering over most ponies. Where hooves should have been, they had a number of small wiggling appendages at the end of each limb. Their faces were short and flat, lacking any significant definition.

Fortunately, they were not half as dangerous as they appeared. Their forms were fragile and slow, and they would often simply fall to pieces after a strong kick. Their only real advantage was numbers - for some reason, the Drilam had thought it was a good idea to procreate with wild abandon; as a result, every one of these old ruins was filled to the brim with walking corpses. It was no wonder they had fought among themselves until they drove themselves to extinction; Ebony couldn't imagine there being enough resources to go around.

Focusing his attention back on the situation at hoof, he sighed in exasperation. Half a dozen was hardly a fight, but it was still an annoyance - and it meant there would be many more in the catacombs beneath. He bent his neck back around and, grasping the handle between his teeth, drew his sword. The same sword that had gotten him into this mess in the first place. He didn't even remember, now, why he had grabbed it off of that altar so many centuries ago. He did have to admit, though, that it was a fine blade. It had lasted him more than sixteen hundred years, after all.

Talking around the handle of his sword, Ebony spoke to the corpses; his voice was barely more than a whisper.

"Let's dance."

Sliding the accursed blade home into its scabbard, Ebony decided it was a good time to take a break. He had been running all night and day, and just when he had reached a relatively safe place he had stumbled straight into a group of angry dead men. He sat down on his haunches in the middle of the floor, and thought.

Immortality. He had heard a voice in his head, centuries before. Everything else will wither and die with time, but you alone can withstand it all. Or... can you?

Ebony shook his head, clearing his thoughts. It had been too long, now. He could not remember the rest of what the voice had said, could not look back to find a solution. All he knew now was that he had been doing this for hundreds of years - avoiding the gaze of the Eye, seeking shelter in these old ruins, fighting for his life, collecting trinkets and baubles to turn enough bits for food, and running.

Running. Running from a tireless enemy, one who would never stop until it caught him. And when it caught him... what then? He had forgotten... or perhaps the memories were repressed.

He took a carrot out of his saddlebags and began munching while he tried to remember why, exactly, he ran from the Eye of the Grave. Was he not, after all, on a quest to find his death? Would the Eye not give him what he wished for? In his heart he knew the answer - he sought death for the peace it would bring; the Eye would give him his death, indeed, but it would bring his soul no peace. So he ran. One day, he hoped, he would find a way to rid himself of this curse. And then he might finally know peace.

Ebony bit off another chunk of carrot, lost in deep thought. He almost didn't hear the sound over that of himself chewing. He stopped, knowing he had heard something in the distance. The second time the sound came, he caught it loud and clear - and spat chunks of carrot at a nearby wall in surprise. It was a voice. A voice not unlike the one he had heard that day, so many centuries ago. It was so far away, but he understood it well enough - it called to him by the same name it had called him, all those years before.

"Forsaken one... come to us..."

Twilight Sparkle was, as usual, reading. She sat on a pillow near the glass door to the library's balcony, with a copy of The Astronomicon: A Unicorn's Guide to Stars and Lunar Spellcraft splayed out on the floor before her. It was a fine summer day, and Ponyville was bustling with activity. All of her friends, however, were far too busy to get out today: Applejack had to help Big Macintosh with the latest apple harvest; Rarity had to finish a dozen dresses within the day; Pinkie Pie was helping the Cakes fill orders of baked goods; Fluttershy was bogged down with all of the town's pets; and Rainbow Dash was helping with preparations for a grand summer downpour.

So, with none of her friends around, Twilight elected to stay inside and study. As she flipped through the pages, the rising sun reached exactly the wrong point in the sky; filtering through the grimy glass, it created a glare that stung her eyes. She briefly considered calling on Spike to clean the door, then remembered that he wasn't around - she had given Spike the day off, and he was no doubt out playing with the Cutie Mark Crusaders or vying for Rarity's attention.

Twilight sighed. Cleaning would have to come later; she opened the door, letting in fresh air and the sounds of the town below. Returning her attention to the book, she flipped through more pages before finally finding what she sought - the aurora spell. Contrary to the air of sophistication surrounding the exceedingly rare old tome, the Astronomicon contained surprisingly little scholarly information on the stars - it did have, however, a great deal of showy spells involving the sky; most merely party tricks and displays of grandeur. This particular spell would allow her to recreate a sky-borne phenomenon that Luna herself rarely put in the effort to make - and a great deal of effort it would be, apparently. She would have to save this one for a special occasion.

After a few minutes of study as she committed the spell to memory, Twilight's ear twitched. She turned her attention to the sounds of the town - or rather, the lack thereof. The town had gone almost completely silent. The hustle and bustle of Ponyville hadn't died down this quickly since...

Zecora? Could it be her?

Twilight shook her head. No, everypony is over their fear of Zecora by now. What could it be, then?

The answer to her question knocked on the library door, jolting her out of her thoughts.

"I'm on my way!" Twilight called cheerfully, jumping up off of her pillow. The library had been closed for the day, the door locked, but it was more a barrier of formality than anything; Twilight was more than happy to open the door for anypony in need of a book. Lifting the Astronomicon with her magic, she headed downstairs with the book following suit. Without looking, she placed the book on the lobby's table, bookmarked her page, and closed it while she walked over to the door. As it swung open, Twilight was about to give her usual cheery greeting when her voice caught in her throat; she found herself standing eye to neck with a stallion of considerable size. Though not as big as Big Macintosh, he was certainly larger than any of the other Ponyville residents. Unlike Mac, who was kind and gentle, this pony had an air of electricity about him - as though he might lash out and break something at any moment. Twilight gulped, suddenly feeling quite small.

Her gaze dropped to the floor and slowly rose, looking over the unusual stallion on her doorstep. His hooves looked battered and worn, as though he had run thousands upon thousands of miles - or perhaps kicked down a few too many walls. His body was shrouded in a jet black cloak that bulged at the sides, giving away the saddlebags he no doubt carried on his journey from who-knows-where.

Looking up further, her gaze settled on an amulet. An elaborate silver chain around his neck held a ruby that had been cut to resemble a shield. This was not the sort of pony who carried unnecessary trifles; she gave it a closer look, and sure enough found that it was pulsing near-imperceptibly with some form of magic. Shifting her eyes to the side, she saw the hilt of a sword sheathed over his back. It was not much to look at, and she felt her attention being pulled elsewhere; she obliged, looking up to his face.

The fur covering his neck and face looked to have once been dark, but now it had long since faded and was nearest the color of ash. The fur was broken up by horrific scars; he had scars everywhere, in fact - some merely more severe than others. Twilight could not see the rest of his body, but something told her that his entire form was heavily scarred - the same as his face and neck. Her eyes flicked up to his mane which, unsurprisingly, was also faded. It may have once been an illustrious silver, but now all that was left was a dull gray.

Finally, her eyes focused on his. Unlike his other features - battered, worn, aged - his eyes held a look of fire. The irises were, like the rest of him, gray - not the dull gray of his mane, but the sharp gray of fine steel which shone like a honed and polished blade. Those eyes were staring into hers, now. Her brief inspection had taken only a few seconds, and he didn't show any reaction. Seeing that she wasn't about to say anything, the stallion began to speak.

"You..." he said, his voice barely more than a whisper, "...must be Twilight Sparkle."

"Um... yes, that's me." Twilight replied, slightly concerned as to how he knew her name.

The stallion's gaze softened. The electricity in the air around him fizzled and died. His eyes detached from hers and lost their focus, shifting into a thousand yard stare. He spoke again, staring off into space. "I have heard a great many things about you, Twilight. I am told that you may be able to help me with my..." he paused, choosing his words carefully, "...unusual condition."

At his last words, Twilight's eyes shifted to his scars; she wondered if they had something to do with what he was talking about. As she looked back into his unfocused eyes, she knew that this was a pony who would have quite the story to tell.

"May I come in?" he asked, his low and unsettling voice having become completely monotone.

Twilight realized that a number of Ponyville residents were watching their exchange at the library door. She knew that whether or not they accepted this strange new pony hinged almost entirely on how she reacted to him. Her look of shock finally melted into a welcoming smile.

"Of course! Come on in!" she said, backing out of the way so that the towering figure could pass. "I can't guarantee I'll be able to help, but I promise to try." she added, turning around as the door closed behind them. Through the door, she could faintly hear the sounds of things returning to normal. With Twilight's implied endorsement of the new pony in town, the others would hopefully at least refrain from running away at the sight of him. She did have to admit, though, that he was more than a little intimidating.

Trotting over to the table, she moved a pair of pillows for them to sit on. He sat opposite from her, and his eyes roamed around the room. His gaze was still slack - she couldn't tell if he was actually seeing the room, or something far beyond it. Twilight reasoned that he was likely waiting for her to speak.

"So... before we get to this problem of yours, wouldn't you like to introduce yourself?"

"I wouldn't call it a... problem." he replied, dodging the question. His eyes lingered for a moment on a bookshelf behind him, his neck bent around to see it. He turned back toward her and shifted his attention to the book on the table between them. "I am told you have a great deal of magical talent, Twilight. While your cutie mark is evidence of that, your choice of reading material gives me certain... doubts."

She raised an eyebrow at him, though he wouldn't see it. "You know this book?"

He nodded, his gaze locked on the book's title-less binding. "The Astronomicon, if memory serves. A dusty old tome full of ancient party tricks. Most of it would have been beginner's fare some... fifteen hundred years ago, though I suppose standards may have... declined with time." The stallion scoffed.

Twilight's jaw had dropped. For the most part, only unicorns knew the first thing about magic - and very few unicorns could recognize the Astronomicon by the untitled cover alone. "You're not actually a unicorn, are you?" she asked, "Concealing your horn with a spell, perhaps?"

The stallion burst into a fit of what looked like roaring laughter, though no sound escaped him. For a moment Twilight was concerned that she may have suddenly gone deaf, but she knew that wasn't the case when she heard his hooves thumping against the floor. He composed himself, his eyes in focus and his voice carrying some form of tone for the first time since he had come inside. "No, I don't believe I have ever been a unicorn. I suppose that at one time, long ago, I was a pegasus."

Twilight's curiosity got the better of her, and she asked without thinking, "Long ago? Then what are you now?"

Once again the stallion's eyes grew distant. Instead of speaking, it seemed he elected to show her. His teeth dug into the neck of his cloak and, in one swift movement, pulled it off of his frame and up over his head. He dropped the cloak to the floor in front of him and said, in a haunting monotone voice, "Now... I am less than I once was."

Twilight stood up and, ever so slowly, made her way around the table. His eyes did not follow her; he stared into space, his mind somewhere far away. First, her gaze fell upon the sword strapped to his back. It hadn't been much to look at before, but now it seemed to have changed - the grip was wrapped in well-chewed silver wire, and the pommel had embedded into it a square-cut ruby as flawless as the one on the amulet around his neck. The crossguard was forged of some metal she had never seen - it appeared unmarred, even with the obvious age of the wiring around the grip. The blade was housed in a scabbard of the same metal, wrapped in elaborate carvings of apparently meaningless patterns. The weapon exuded a faint pull; both of magic, and of purest malice. She forced herself to tear her attention away from it.

At last, she saw them; folded over the straps of his simple, brown flaxen saddlebags, were what remained of his wings. The flesh was torn in sickening ways - wounds that had never fully healed - and all of his feathers were gone. They were simply not there.

Judging by what's left of them, his wingspan must have been magnificent in days gone by... dear Celestia, what in the world has happened to this poor creature?

As Twilight's thoughts roamed, her eyes fell - and locked on perhaps the stallion's most disturbing feature of all. While the rest of his body was covered in scars of all sorts, there was a patch on his flank that was perfectly bare - nothing but his dull ashen fur.

This pony had no cutie mark.

She felt her jaw drop open as she raised her eyes and met his. They stared at each other, the stallion's eyes focused again in a sorrowful expression. He knew the look of shock she was giving him all too well.

"Wha...but... you... how?" She tripped over her words, trying to find a way to voice the question they both knew was in her head.

"You wonder why I have no cutie mark?" he said for her.

"...yes. I mean, you're obviously, uh... old."

The stallion mimed chuckling, not making a sound. "Older than you know. The answers will come in time, young one. But before I can give them, I must ask something of you that I am not yet entirely convinced you are... capable of. Let us return our attention to this book of yours." His eyes were focused now as he turned back to the table, while Twilight took her seat opposite him again. At least for the moment, his full attention seemed to be here in the room with her. "Now, while it is true that the contents of the Astronomicon are for the most part foal's play, my understanding is that the book itself is exceedingly rare: only three known copies remain in existence after the Lunar Inquisition. How, might I ask, have you - a small town librarian pony - come to possess one of them?"

Twilight's eyes widened at the mention of the Lunar Inquisition. It had been a small collective of superstitious ponies that had traveled Equestria gathering and burning books related to the princess of the night, fearing that the knowledge contained in them would somehow set Nightmare Moon free. But that was five hundred years ago, halfway through Luna's exile. Hardly anyone but Celestia herself remembered it now.

"You could say I have friends in high places." she said, deciding she wasn't going to give him all of the answers until he started answering some of her questions in turn. "I have to ask - how do you know all of this?"

The stallion smirked, sensing it was time he gave her a straight answer. The expression looked painful, as it stretched the scarred flesh of his old face. "While it is true that I have never been a unicorn, I have always had good reason to be interested in magic. Long ago, I met a traveling scholar; an unusual fellow he was, wore a cloak and a pointy hat covered in bells. He wanted to know about the magics of the lands beyond Equestria's borders, and I wanted to know about traditional Equestrian magic. We came to a mutual agreement - I got an education in magic that I could never use myself, and with the knowledge I gave him he went on to become one of the most important ponies in unicorn history. You could say I drew the short stick, but who's still alive to laugh about it now? I don't think I need to tell you the answer to that question."

Twilight was, at this point, beyond being surprised at the things this pony had to say. Instead, she simply raised an eyebrow and said, "You knew Starswirl the Bearded?"

The stallion laughed silently, pounding a hoof against the table and leaving a sizable crack in the wood. "The bearded? Is that what they're calling him? I guess he really did never shave that thing off. Now I'm gonna owe him a few thousand bits in the afterlife - if I ever make it there! Ha!"

Twilight was beginning to understand what this stallion's predicament might be, though she could scarcely believe it. Starswirl the Bearded had lived and died long before Luna had been exiled. "So... if you are as well educated as it sounds, you should know that not every spell in the Astronomicon is for beginners."

The stallion composed himself and, for a moment, looked to be deep in thought. "You don't mean... the aurora spell, do you?"

She only smirked at him.

It was his turn to be surprised - he took on an expression of incredulity and exclaimed, "But that spell hasn't been performed in more than a thousand years! Princess Luna herself has trouble with it, and she created the spell! You can't be serious."

"Oh, I'm quite serious." she replied. "I haven't done it yet, but I know I'll be able to pull it off."

"And what makes you so sure of that?"

"Only the fact that I'm a personal student of Princess Celestia. Do you still doubt me?"

The stallion continued to wear his incredulous look for a moment, before launching into another fit of his peculiar soundless laughter. "It all makes sense now! I have to admit, I was more than a little doubtful when I was told that a small town librarian unicorn might be able to perform the spell I need - but the only sensible way you could have gotten your hooves on a copy of the Astronomicon is from the Princess' private library."

As he spoke he opened the cover of the book to the first page, as if searching for something. When he found it, he laughed all the harder. "And there it is! Starswirl's own signature! This is the very same book he lent to me for my education on the stars, all that time ago... ah, isn't that something." He finally regained his composure. "It seems I have misjudged you, Twilight Sparkle. Perhaps you have just the sort of expertise I have been searching for. You have been honest and straight with me thus far, and so I wish I could give you the answers to the many questions you must have. But before I can do that, I am afraid I must ask something of you."

"As you have likely guessed at this point, I am old. Exactly how old, I do not remember. My memory has rarely failed me regarding impersonal things in all my years of life." His eyes grew out of focus, and his voice lost its life once again. "But I have lived through things no pony should ever have to experience. As time has passed, my mind has come to reject the memory of what transpired so long ago to make me... like this. As I said before, what I have is not a problem. A problem can be solved, and the solution is often a simple one. What I have is a condition. A disease that eats away at me, and requires curing. Something all the more difficult to do."

Twilight fidgeted in her seat, unsettled by his words. "So what do you need me to do?"

"A simple matter," he replied. "I require of you a spell that will force me to remember... everything. All of the repressed memories, all of the horrible experiences. If I am to be cured of this condition, I must first know what caused it. If local stories are to be believed, you have performed such a spell a handful of times already. Once it has been done, you will have the answers you seek."

"Oh... that spell." she said. He was referring to the Discord incident, of course. "I think I can do that, yes. Just realize that all of those memories are going to hit you at the same time - it will probably be more than a little overwhelming. Are you sure you're... ready?"

He only nodded.

"Alright..." she said, moving the Astronomicon off of the table and onto a nearby shelf. The stallion laid his head down on the table, closed his eyes, and waited. Twilight wasn't convinced this was a good idea, but she had promised to help if she could. Her horn faintly glowed as she brought her head down toward his. When her horn touched his forehead, there was a flash of light from the ruby necklace around his neck; then, for a moment, everything was black as pitch - it was as if the sun had suddenly flickered like a dying lightbulb. It was over as swiftly as it began.

Then the stallion began to scream.

His screams were as silent as his laughter had been; as silent as the grave. Twilight jumped back, trembling with horror. The entire library trembled with her, shaken by the force of the soundless screaming.

Dear Celestia, what have I done?

She watched the unabated agony in his eyes as hundreds of years came rushing back to him in the same instant. Time had stuck like a broken record, playing over the same few seconds of the world shaking again and again. Minutes passed, each one trailing as if an hour. Suddenly, the stallion ran short of breath; he collapsed, exhausted, to the floor. Twilight sprang up from her seat and hurried around the table to his side. She found him huddled under his cloak, his forelegs covering his head and his eyes shut tight. The world had returned to normal, and now he was the one who was shaking.

"Are you... okay?" she asked, trying desperately to think of what to do. She knew inside, though, that there was nothing to be done; she knew nothing of his struggles, of his suffering. For now this was his battle alone, and there was nothing she could do to help him.

The stallion's shaking slowly subsided; soon, he was as still as stone. Either he had taken control of his demons, or they had consumed him. Twilight shuddered to think of what would happen if it was the latter. He spoke, still frozen on the floor.

"I...re...mem...ber..." he said in a chilling drone, each syllable drawn out and punctuated with a different tone as though he was breaking into song. Ever so slowly he rose from the floor, his eyes still closed. "I...re...mem...ber..." he droned again, this time in yet lower tones. He stood up straight, towering over the tiny unicorn. She shrank back away from him - he was a ticking time bomb now, and she had no way of knowing what would happen when he went off. "I...re...mem...ber..." His eyes cracked open. For the first time since she had first seen him, there was fire in his gaze.

"Everything."

His face split open as a grin spread across it - a wicked grin that showed all of his teeth. It was the first time Twilight had seen his teeth; they were filed to razor-sharp points. Running his tongue over his ancient lips, the scarred horror stepped towards her. She willed herself to step backward, but her legs would not obey her. She could only sit there, frozen in terror.

He began to laugh silently; a trait that she had thought merely peculiar now chilled her to the bone. He circled close around her, licking his lips and laughing. She heard the sharp intakes of breath caused by his silent laughter.

"Now that you have restored my memory, I have one more thing to say to you... Twilight Sparkle."

Twilight trembled as her name floated out from between his teeth. The stallion drew close, his mouth inches away from her ear; she quietly wondered if he was going to take a bite out of her, to find out how she tasted. She felt the heat of his breath as he hovered over her, waiting. The atmosphere was charged with electricity. The tension was palpable. He whispered into her ear...

"...Gotcha."

Twilight couldn't decide whether to be angry, relieved, or to simply pass out; she settled on an expression of supreme bewilderment. The stallion's evil grin melted as he fell to the floor, rolling around and laughing as silently as ever. He jabbed a hoof up at her, pointing to the source of his amusement. "You should see the look on your face! Priceless!"

She finally found the will to be indignant. Putting on her best scolding face - practiced for hours at a time on Spike - Twilight stomped over to the laughing stallion, who had now rolled halfway across the room. "You think that was funny? I've never been so terrified in my life! And I've certainly never seen somepony so old act so immature!"

He laughed all the harder. "Really? Never? Are you quite sure you're a personal student of Princess Celestia? If I didn't know better, I'd say I know her better than you do!" He continued rolling about on the floor as if it was the most fun he'd ever had.

"So that's it?" she said, "All of this was nothing but an act? The screaming, the agony in your eyes, the flash of darkness - all just setup for a joke at my expense?"

The stallion abruptly stopped; the way he froze in mid-motion, half on his back and half on his side, was almost comical. He rolled over onto his stomach, but stayed down on the floor.

"No." he said, the life draining from his expression. "That was genuine enough." His ears drooped, and he closed his lifeless eyes. "You were right - hundreds of years of memories at once is, well... overwhelming. Once I got myself under control, I was in dire need of a... good laugh. The only thought in my head was doing something to take my mind off the past, if only for a moment. I saw an opportunity, and I took it without putting any thought to the consequences. I am... sorry."

Twilight was silent for a moment, mulling over his words. "Oh, alright. I'll tell you what, Mr. tall, dark, and scary. When you're ready, you can make it up to me by telling me your story."

The stallion's eyes opened, and he looked up at her with an expression of mixed sorrow and confusion - as if disbelieving that she would forgive him so easily. She smiled down at him, extending an invisible hoof of support - both to help him up from the floor, and to pull him from the hands of whatever ghosts lay in wait in the corners of his mind. He couldn't help but smile back.

"Very well," he said, finally standing up once again. "I certainly owe you that much. Along with an introduction, it seems. With my memories restored, I can at last grant you both."

"My name," he said with a flourishing bow, "is Ebony. I am one thousand, six hundred and forty-two years old. As for how that came to be so, well, a proper story is supposed to start at the beginning - don't you agree?"

She nodded, so he gestured to the table. They took their seats opposite each other once again. Though Twilight didn't show it outwardly just yet, she was ecstatic. Meeting somepony who had lived this long was quite a rare opportunity indeed. She had princess Celestia, of course, but the lifestyle of royalty was surprisingly restrictive. The princess had little time for personal adventures with the weight of an entire country on her shoulders. A pony somewhat lower in the social hierarchy would no doubt have a more personal view of history - and would likely prove to be a more practiced storyteller. A pile of parchment, several quill pens, and numerous bottles of ink floated over to the table, covering most of the surface.

"Going to document my entire life story, are we?" Ebony asked with a chuckle.

"Of course!" Twilight responded, in an entirely serious tone. "With as long as you've lived and as many scars as you carry, it's about time somepony did it. You must have such fascinating stories to tell!"

She was doing a poor job of keeping herself composed, nearly bursting at the seams with scholarly giddiness at the chance to learn everything Ebony had to tell.

"Very well." Ebony said simply. "Shall we begin?"

She nodded vigorously.

"As you wish." He sighed, closing his eyes and letting himself fall back - far back, into the depths of distant memory. When he spoke again, his voice had lost its life. "My end... starts at the beginning."

"It was the time before Equestria. The time of discontent, when the pony tribes lived separated by hatred. My birth was an accident, and my parents did not want me. For all my life, I have never known why. But now, thanks to your magic, even that which I had been too young to understand is made clear."

"There was only just enough food to go around, and the pegasi leaders had strict birth laws to make sure it stayed that way. I was just another mouth to feed and, having been born outside the established limits, I was unworthy of life. So they dropped me from the edge of the cloud city."

Twilight's quill pen, which had begun scratching furiously to keep up, trailed straight off the edge of the paper before falling free of her magic's grip. She looked up at Ebony, her jaw hanging nearly down to the table. A moment of silence passed. He spoke again, still staring away at nothing.

"Why so surprised? Even as children, pegasi bounce like rubber."

"But..." Twilight said, "they left you for dead? Just like that?"

Ebony's mouth twisted into a smirk. "Not exactly. Militant though they may have been, the pegasi of old were not killers by nature. They were merely doing what they did best - turning their problems into someone else's. You see, the home of the pegasi was poised over the outskirts of an earth pony village below. It was not by any means the first time a child was cast out of the city to be raised by earth ponies, nor was it the last."

Twilight considered for a moment the implications of such a practice. Potentially hundreds of young pegasi cast out of their natural homes, to be raised by a tribe of ponies that despised them on principle. Questions rolled around in her head, but she remained silent. Her quill pen resumed its feverish scratching.

"I was found by a passing earth pony couple. They whispered among themselves, as if somehow worried that I - a just-born colt - would be offended at what they had to say. As their disagreement escalated, so did the volume of their voices. It seemed that the stallion was of the same mind as my original parents - that I was just another mouth to feed, and a problem best left in the hooves of somepony else. The mare, on the other hand, was the only creature in the world that held compassion for me."

"Times were hard on everypony back then, but the earth ponies had it the worst. At the mercy of the other two tribes and forced to give up most of the food they produced, there was hardly enough to go around - let alone extra for a baby pegasus not even worthy of the care of its real parents."

"Ultimately, the mare was given a choice. She could stay with the stallion, and leave 'this thing' for somepony else to take care of. Or... she could give him up. Give up their future together, spit in the face of everything they had worked together to achieve. She thought he was bluffing. She refused to believe that he would just let go of her."

"She was wrong."

There was a moment of silence. Twilight's pen caught up to the current point in the story, and stood poised over the parchment. Just as she was about to give Ebony a verbal prodding, he continued.

"The mare was blinded by what I had thought was motherly compassion, and she chose me. The stallion simply nodded his head, turned around, and walked away. For years, the mare kept telling herself that one day he would come back. He never did. She... never quite forgave me for that. It had been her own decision to make, but she blamed me all the same."

Ebony sighed. He closed his eyes and leaned forward until his muzzle hit the table. To Twilight, it looked as though he had suddenly fallen asleep.

"Um... Ebony? Are you alright?"

"I never knew her name, you know." He spoke with his head still resting on the table.

"What?"

"The mare I called mother." he said, sitting up straight once again. "She never told me her name. Said to call her 'mom' or 'mommy'. As the first of many small acts of defiance, I chose to address her as 'Mother' whenever it was necessary to do so. A shallow and meaningless decision from the perspective of others, perhaps. But it had meaning to me. I did not recognize her as my mother... and she, in turn, did not recognize me as her son."

"She fed me, of course. Kept a roof over my head. But she did not participate in anything I would call... parenting. For days at a time she would leave me to my own devices, heading out to who-knows-where without so much as a wave goodbye. She would come back disheveled by her little adventures and... always alone, just the same as when she had left."

"In a way, I... appreciated the solitude. Being left alone meant plenty of time to think, to read and to reflect. I'll grant her this much: Mother always kept plenty of books on hand, and I never wanted for a way to pass the time. All the same, I grew to... resent her. Why take me for her own if she did not wish to be a mother? Why throw away her love for a child she did not want? She gave me no answers, only the same cold disregard she had always given - and books, to teach me what she would not."

"Many times, I ran away. Flew off into the countryside in search of something... better. Looked to other ponies for a place I might meet a warmer welcome. I never found either. The unicorns looked down upon me. The earth ponies avoided me like the plague. Even my fellow pegasi rejected me, calling me 'earthborn' and other... colorful names. Each time I came home to no welcome to speak of. Not once did mother react to my return. Not once did she direct so much as a single word at me unless something needed to be done."

"Over the years, as the cold seasons became steadily harsher, 'something needing to be done' became more and more common. Mother had owned her own land where she grew all the food we ate herself, but after a time she was too old, too weak, too... broken to work the fields herself. So... she had me do the work instead. I never complained, of course - I was the only one she could call on, and I didn't exactly have anything more important to be doing."

"I worked hard, night and day, with little rest. Though mother never said it, we both knew I would have to be stronger if we were to survive the worsening weather. I pulled that worn out old plow until the straps snapped, then I put on new straps and pulled it some more. Within a few years, my body had become as strong as my mind. Each year, all the same, we had less and less food to show for it."

"More time passed."

There was a piercing silence. The only sound in the library was the frantic scratching of Twilight's pen. It came to a halt, hovering over the parchment. Ink dripped off of the point, creating a sizable blot in place of the most recent period.

"At the dawn of my twelfth year of life, Mother came to speak to me. It was both the first and the last time she spoke to me at length for any reason beyond plowing the fields. 'That time already, eh?' she said. 'Twelve years old and big as a house! You're as old as I was when I found you, you know that?' I remember... asking her what she was getting at. She took on a somber tone. It was the first time she ever displayed any real emotion in front of me. Her face held an expression of deepest regret."

"'Listen. I'm sorry.' she said. 'I wish I could have been a better mother to you. I know you probably hate my guts by now, but I taught you the only way I knew how. The world is a cold, harsh place. I did what I could to make you just as cold, and just as harsh. The books taught you how the world works without any of the sugar coating you'd get from real parents. Pulling the plow made you strong so that you might live to make use of that knowledge.'"

"'When I found you in the field all those years ago, I knew it wasn't... right. You weren't meant for... this life, this world so cold and bleak. Something told me you were born in the wrong place at the wrong time, and I... just couldn't let it go. I gave up... a lot more than I bargained for to stand by that decision. But I promised myself I would save you if I could - and after all, if you can't keep a promise to yourself, what good is your word to anypony else?'"

"'Look... something big is going to happen soon. I know you've felt it. The world is changing, and there is nothing anypony can do to stop it. We can hope the change is for the better, but... we won't know until it's over. And... I'm afraid I won't be there to see it. I feel that my time is up, young one. But you... you have so much life left before you.'"

"I didn't know what to say. I had never really spoken to anypony before. I just stood there, waiting. And mother, she... she put her neck around mine. That day... my mother gave me a hug for the first and the very last time."

A second of utter silence passed. Time stopped for Ebony, for want of a single tear.

"'Now go.' she said to me. 'Go out there and fight. Make a name for yourself, and earn your right to a place in this world. Find out who you are, and make sure everypony knows your name. Go forth, my son. Go forth and live.'"

Ebony sniffed. He wanted to cry, but he had forgotten how.

"I never even knew her name, but I have never forgotten the look on my mother's face... as I saw her for the very last time. A single tear rolled down her cheek..."

Twilight's pen had long since stopped its movement. She stared into Ebony's eyes, trying to imagine the pain he felt.

"Ebony..." she said, reaching out toward him, "...you don't have to go on..."

He held a hoof up, silencing her. "It is alright, Twilight. My mother has been gone for more than sixteen hundred years. You'd think... I would be... over it by now."

With each word he spoke, however, his countenance grew darker. In his eyes, Twilight saw a kind of pain she had never experienced - the profound sorrow of a loved one lost, a wound that would never heal.

"In her own way, I suppose, she was the best mother I could have possibly asked for. She made me cold and hard, intelligent and strong. She was willing to let me hate her in order to teach what needed to be taught. She died alone and unloved, all for my sake. For the sake of an outcast baby pegasus."

Ebony put on a bittersweet smile - the smile of a pony who had just seen a storm cloud's silver lining.

"It's almost funny, you know. Just as she never gave me a name to know her by, mother never gave me a name to call myself. She had said that that wasn't a choice for her to make, that when the time came I would take a name for myself. I... never got to thank her for that."

He sighed the sigh of somepony who had just had a great weight lifted from his shoulders. His smile grew a little, became a little more sincere.

"That day, when the Windigoes came and ice rained from the skies, I saw my reflection in a frozen lake. For the first time, I saw myself the way others would see me. I named myself Ebony, for my coat as black as the night. And I made myself a promise. One day I would discover who I was, who I was meant to be. If not for myself, then for my mother. My mother who I had never loved until it was too late."

The smile disappeared. In his eyes, Twilight saw the weight of centuries. They bore down on him, heavy and relentless. He looked tired. Not the simple wear of a hard day's work, but the profound exhaustion of somepony who hadn't slept a single night in his long, long life.

"It has been more than sixteen hundred years since that day. I have yet to make good on that promise."

For a time, they both sat motionless. The sounds of the town outside seeped in, reminding them both that time had not, in fact, stopped. Twilight's horn began to glow faintly, and writing materials floated away from the table. Ebony caught one of the pens between his front hooves as it floated past him - the same pen Twilight had been writing with.

"What are you packing up for? We're not finished." he said in a bouncy tone, his mood having completely changed from moments before.

"But..." Twilight said, "...you just looked so..." her voice trailed off.

"So... what? Come on, Twilight. Where's your sense of dramatic pacing? Every story has to have ups and downs. You've gone and ruined the mood just as we were getting to the good part!" He put on a comically deep frown of feigned discontent, and crossed his forelegs in front of him for emphasis.

Twilight couldn't help but laugh at the ancient stallion's childish display. "So I take it that means you want to go on?"

"I should certainly think so! Come now, sit down, listen for a while. And get back to writing. You wanted to document my story, so it had better be complete!" he waggled a hoof to punctuate the last remark.

The ink, paper and pens floated back to the table, and Twilight carried on where she had left off. Within minutes the story was up to date, and Ebony snickered.

"What's so funny?" Twilight asked.

"You're just so adorable. So young, so full of life, and so enthusiastic. Even if your enthusiasm is directed at... well, books. I dare say I'm jealous."

A smile stretched across her face, then disappeared as quickly as it had come. "Hey! There's nothing wrong with books!"

Ebony laughed his peculiar silent laugh. "I didn't mean to imply that there was. But sometimes you've got to pull your snout out of a book and actually make use of what it teaches you. I'm being silly, though - you already know that. Now... let us continue."

He fidgeted about in his seat, getting comfortable once again. As he settled into his pillow, he visibly cooled into the slow, cold, calculating creature Twilight had become used to. She briefly wondered if he might have a split personality. He began to speak in the timeless, monotone voice she already knew so well.

"The Windigoes froze... everything. For miles and miles around, there was nothing but ice. Where once there were homes and ponies, now were merely frozen statues. I wondered why I hadn't yet been frozen myself. I know now, of course, that it was my mother's love that kept me warm, held me safe out of reach of their vile power. Even in death, she had saved my life."

The quill pen snapped. Silence dragged on as Twilight chose a replacement.

"I had to go far beyond the borders of pony-settled lands to find anything worthy of the title of 'life' - let alone something I could actually eat. Ravenous, exhausted, and hundreds of miles from home, I thought it was a dream come true when I saw a lone apple tree rising in the distance. Little did I know that it was the onset... of a waking nightmare."

"Too tired to fly, I plodded toward the horizon at a pace that would have bored a snail to tears. I fell in and out of consciousness as I went, no longer really knowing where I was headed. It was not until I bumped head-first into the trunk of the tree that I remembered. The moment I looked up, a falling apple landed square in the middle of my forehead."

"There was no pain, only joy. 'Food!' I screamed with all the volume I could muster, 'At last!' I tore into it, devouring it seeds and stem and all. Mad with hunger, I looked up at the top of the tree and growled like a rabid beast. Summoning all the strength I had left, I kicked the tree with the force of a cannon blast."

"It reverberated as though it were a giant wooden bell, and shook as if it had drawn the ire of the earth itself. Finally there was a crack not unlike thunder, and the tree came crashing down. I ran up its side as it fell, wanting nothing more than to be upon that sweet fruit the very moment gravity had finished taking its toll."

"As I bit into apple after apple, a noise rang in my ears. I paid it no heed as I worked to sate my endless hunger. At last, when not a single apple remained, I was forced to come back to reality. What I found there was not, on the whole, what I would call... normal."

"The tree I had just knocked over had been growing out of perfectly flat stone - stone that stretched as far as I could see... in every direction. Stranger still was what I found under the spot where the base of that tree had been, minutes before. It was a door, carved of a metal I had never seen in any of the books I had read. At the touch of a hoof it slid open, giving way to... nothing. It was the middle of the day, and yet beyond that threshold all I saw was blackest darkness. That very moment, the noise I had ignored came again - but this time... I heard it loud and clear."

Silence rang in Twilight's ears as Ebony stopped once again. This time, though, it was not the same. Icy winds whipped through the air, and shadows danced in the corners of her eyes.

Today was the hottest and brightest day of the year.

"And what was that noise?" asked Twilight.

He remained silent, lost in the distant past. Finally he spoke, but his voice was not his own.

"It was a voice." he said. His eyes were clouded over with murky shapes, the ghosts of ages past dancing before him.

"Over the passing of sixteen hundred years I have forgotten many things. I forgot how to stand, I forgot how to fly. I forgot how to laugh, I forgot how to cry. I forgot how to live... I forgot how to die. In time, I forgot even the sound of my own mother's voice. In all that time, over all those years, two things never left me. The first was my mother's face on the day she died. And the other..." his voice trailed off.

"And the other...?" Twilight asked, already knowing the answer.

Ebony nodded. His eyes closed, his timeless gaze directed inward toward himself.

"I have never forgotten that voice."

"Forsaken one... come to us..."

The ghostly voice floated out of the darkness, carried on a gust of wind. It flew through Ebony's mind as the wind whipped through his mane. He stood frozen as a single question stormed inside his head.

The tree he had knocked over was old. Much older yet would have to be whatever it was that the tree had grown over - this... gateway down into the depths of the earth. It would have been the passing of many pony lifetimes since any creature had opened this door; any... thing that had lived down there should not only have died, but turned to bones - and the bones, in turn, crumbled to dust.

What, then, was this voice?

Any theories he may have had were blown away when the voice came again, louder and more insistent.

"Forsaken one... we know you are there... come to us..."

As the echo of the voice died away, light appeared in the darkness below. It was the light of fire, torches having burst into life. The light of the flames told him precious little about what lay below - the darkness was oppressive, suffocating though he still stood in the light of day. More torches sprang to life of their own accord, one by one illuminating a passage of stairs leading down into yet more darkness. The voice came tearing out of the depths once again, and as it came all but one of the torches was snuffed.

"Forsaken one..." it roared, "come to us..."

The sheer power of the voice forced Ebony back a step. Though its tone matched that of normal speech, its volume was as if it had been shouting from inside his own head. His ears rang with the silence that followed.

He waited. He watched, transfixed, as the single still-lit torch burned furiously. Minutes passed. The flame gave no sign of burning out. It began to ignite a different sort of fire.

Ebony considered turning around, running away, and never looking back. He knew this was a mistake. He knew the idea running through his mind was stupid, foalish, and downright crazy. The voice had stopped calling for him, and yet all it took was that single little flame to keep his curiosity ablaze.

He felt his good reason crumbling. At twelve years old he was fully grown: strong, intelligent, and yet to be proven wrong in believing himself indestructible. He still had not earned his cutie mark. He felt himself being pulled forward by a force beyond his own curiosity. It was hardly needed.

He wanted to know - he had to know - what was down there.

Who knows, he thought, maybe my talent is for reckless adventure.

It was decided, now. With much to gain and little to lose but his life, Ebony stepped forward. He placed a hoof on the first step, the stair just inside where the door had been. It quivered beneath him, as though alive. It was carved not of stone, he realized, but of the same metal as the door. This strange material shivered and vibrated, coming to life at his touch. As he stood, one hoof inside the door, the vibrations slowed into a rhythm. A pulse. The beating of a heart that should, perhaps, have been frozen long ago.

Ebony shuddered. This place, this structure, this... thing was alive with magic. He could feel it whistling through the air, sparks of power floating on the wind as it whirled around him. He steeled himself and took a step forward, placing himself halfway beyond the threshold. Electricity picked up around him for every inch he advanced; hairs all over his body stood on end. The thought of running crossed his mind once again; he pushed it away as quickly as it had come. With a few more steps he was fully beyond the gateway, standing in darkness.

The door slammed shut behind him. The last torch, the only source of light, sputtered and died. He was trapped, alone in the dark.

Calm resignation washed over Ebony as he came to understand that he was playing someone else's game. A mouse in a maze, not knowing what sort of cheese lay at the end. He stood still, waiting patiently. They did not keep him waiting long.

The voice came whistling out of the darkness below, the only sound in the endless void.

"Hahahahahaha..."

Mocking baritone laughter rang in his ears. "Well, well, well," said the voice, taking on a tone altogether more real and - somehow - more eerie than the ghostly drone of before. "We have waited ever so long for another lost soul to make its way to us."

"Are you scared? Lonely, perhaps?" It asked as though the answer were obvious, and carried on without waiting for a reply. "...good. Fear is good."

"I am not afraid of you." Ebony barked into the darkness. "I tire of this game already. Come out and face me, whatever you are."

The same mocking laughter rang in his ears once again. "A feisty one, aren't you? Not afraid of me, eh? It's just as well - you shouldn't be. Allow me to show you what you should be afraid of."

The voice trailed off, and there was a sharp impact to the air. A resounding ringing noise hung in space, and then there was silence.

Clang!

The sound of metal against metal rang out, stinging his ears.

Clang, clang, clang...

It came in a steady rhythm, not unlike the pulse of the stairs beneath him.

Clang, clang, clang...

It grew louder.

Far below, in the depths of the abyss, two torches burst into life. Ebony could barely make out the silhouette of something, a horrible disfigured something, approaching in rhythmic steps.

Clang, clang, clang...

The creature's metallic footfalls rang out each moment in perfect time to the metal's pulse. More torches sprang to life, each just a few feet behind the advancing figure. They teased him, taunted him with glimpses of the creature's visage.

Clang, clang, clang...

A new sound mixed with the metal steps. It was as though hundreds of nails were being dragged across a chalkboard at once. Ebony's teeth rattled in his skull. He stood his ground, giving the creature all the time in the world.

Clang, clang, clang...

More torches lit. He could see them, now - claws, dozens of them, each at least as long as one of his legs. They trailed against the walls, blotting out the torchlight beyond.

Clang, clang, clang...

Both sounds grew louder.

Clang, clang, clang...

Another noise mixed with the two - the soft, distinct rattling of chains. They crashed into each other, into the walls, into the creature's body. Each surface they struck elicited a different sound, each more unsettling than the last.

Clang, clang, clang...

More torches came to life. He could barely see them, now - the shrouded figure grew as it approached, blocking out the light beyond.

Clang, clang, clang...

It wouldn't be long now.

Clang, clang, clang...

More torches lit. The noises grew louder. The silhouette drew closer.

Clang, clang, clang.

All at once, the noises stopped. The silence was suffocating. Eons dragged on in that one final moment of absolute emptiness.

Whoosh.

The final pair of torches burst to life.

Ebony finally beheld the creature, in all its unholy glory. It was a monster of metal, a horrible gnashing clanging thing of claws and teeth and chains. It burst into animation as it bathed in the light, chains whipping and claws slashing at the air. From beyond the barrier of writhing metals opened a maw of hundreds of razor sharp teeth.

It roared, a sound that could only have been bellowed forth from the deepest depths of a hell he did not believe in.

In that instant, Ebony finally knew the meaning of fear.

"Are you... afraid... now?" the forgotten voice echoed in his ears.

Ebony mouthed his response in silence, incapable of bringing forth a sound.

"Good. Fear... is... good..."

All at once, the lights went out.

Ebony blinked. Once, twice, three times. Everything had vanished - all of the sights, all of the sounds. Not even the pulse of the living metal remained. He swallowed air, just to make sure he was still alive.

"What..." he said into the void, "...was that?"

Laughter once again filled his ears. "That... was your first lesson in fear. You handle your fear quite well, forsaken one. Perhaps you are the one we have been waiting for after all."

Whoosh.

All of the torches sprang back to life. The stairway was empty, the monster gone. Only Ebony remained. He stood stock still, frozen just as surely as if he had been turned to ice. Minutes passed. In time, the pulse of life returned to the metal beneath his hooves.

"Just what in the hells are you waiting for?" The voice stung his ears again. It sounded impatient. "We have all of eternity, forsaken one. But you do not. It seems you will need... a push, of sorts."

A sharp impact struck the air once again, leaving in its wake a ringing like that of a great crystal bell. It tapered off to silence.

Clang!

Metal against metal, again. A chill crept down Ebony's spine. This time, though, it was different.

Clang, clang, clang, clang, clang...

The sound had no rhythm, this time. It blurred into one continuous string of noise, a chain of sounds all connected. He watched the stairs, far below, as the noise drew closer.

Clang, clang, clang, clang, clang...

Torches began to die, one by one, every few moments. The sound gained speed.

Clang clang clang clang clang...

Ebony squinted into the dark, trying to see what was coming to no avail. There were few torches left now - soon he would be alone in the dark with whatever horror the voice sent his way this time.

clangclangclangclangCLANG!

The last light sputtered and died.

All at once, Ebony lost his balance. He slid, he slipped, he crashed into the walls to either side. He spread his wings and gave a single startled flap, only to slam head-first into the ceiling above. He tumbled back down onto the friction-less surface below, rolling and sliding and crashing again and again like a pony-shaped pinball.

Crack!

With a final, bone-crunching impact, the battered pegasus was overtaken by a different kind of darkness.

"Wait, wait, wait."

Ebony let out an exasperated sigh. "Yes?"

"Pegasi bounce like rubber, right? So how did you get knocked unconscious?" Twilight gave him a quizzical look as she spoke.

He gave another sigh. Oh, to be young again. "Just because I can survive being thrown around like a hacky sack, that doesn't mean it won't hurt. And magic living metal isn't exactly the softest thing to beat your head against, you know?"

The unicorn scratched at her head for a moment. She decided it best to drop the issue of pegasus durability.

"So..." she said, "what happened next?"

"Well," he continued, taking on a theatrical tone, "I can't be sure when I awoke; the waking world was just as dark as oblivion had been. Somewhere along the line I began to hear voices - not just the one voice, but several. They were arguing. Arguing over me. The familiar voice of the one who had been toying with me was on the receiving end of a berating by two others."

"One of them sounded old - the voice of an ancient creature in the final years of his life, one who had seen his fair share of the world and then some. The other was feminine; a voice of compassion, of caring and warmth."

"In time, they noticed that I had awoken. The voice of the elder spoke to me, suddenly forgetting his preoccupation with the trickster voice. His words were... unsettling, but they brought some much-needed light to my situation."

"Ah, forsaken one." he said, mimicking the elder's voice with accuracy only he could appreciate. "Welcome back to the world of the... living, as it were. We have much to discuss. The Fool has already given you the grand welcome and more, it would seem. I am sure you have many questions - ask, and we shall answer to the best of our ability."

"Alright," Ebony said, "let's back up a bit. Just who in the hells are you?"

"Ah yes, always the same first question. The... short version is that I am the Sage. You have already met the Fool, and our other guest is the Lady."

"Greetings, my dear." The Lady cut in, her voice like smooth velvet. "Are you alright? The Fool has a tendency to get a little... overzealous."

"I only gave him a little push!" interrupted the Fool, his voice fluctuating feverishly among many tones. "It is not my fault that mortals are so fragile!"

"While it is true that it is not your fault," the Sage said, "It is your responsibility to understand and accommodate that fact."

The Fool fell silent.

The Lady laughed a dainty laugh. "I would like to apologize to you on the Fool's behalf, my dear. You'll never get an apology out of him, no matter how you try."

Ebony tilted his head, casting a quizzical look into the darkness. "All right, Sage, then what's the long version?"

"Ah." A sound emanated from the void, that of a clicking tongue. "That is... complicated."

Ebony waited.

A sigh floated to his ears. "Very well."

"We are... those who came before. Your precursors, of sorts. We are the trapped spirits of those who have been taken by the Curse of Eternity. Lost souls, forsaken beings with nothing left to live for and cursed to exist forever."

"Each of us remembers little, now, of what it was like to live. We have long since forgotten the names given to us in the world of life; thus, now we go by titles. We are not the only ones; many have fallen to the curse, in time. We pray that you shall not have to meet the others."

The Sage fell silent. Ebony thought on his words for a time.

"Why is it, Sage, that I have only met the three of you?"

"That is a question that, perhaps, only the Blade could answer in truth. As you may have noticed, forsaken one, this entire dungeon is forged of a metal no longer found in the world of the living. It has seen no life for thousands of years - and yet, by itself, it lives. Every single chip of this metal is tied to every other, and each and every one can be traced back to the source - to the Blade of Eternity."

"We ourselves are tied to the Blade as well - and thus, in turn, to the metal. When the Blade sensed your pain, your tormented soul wandering about the land, it called to you."

"We called to you."

"We brought you here, guided you to take the first step on the path of your destiny. It is not an easy path that you face, however. When you arrived - when the Blade tasted of your spirit - we were chosen. Three spirits that resonate most closely with aspects of your own. It is our duty to teach you - to shape and to forge you into your full potential, that you might be ready to face your destiny when the time comes."

Silence fell over the abyss. It dragged on for minutes that seemed as hours before Ebony finally shattered it.

"What, then, is this destiny of mine? And why is it so important to you, or this Blade you keep mentioning?"

Several more empty moments passed. The Sage seemed hesitant, as though he was not entirely convinced of the truth of his own words.

"Your destiny... is yours to weave. It is our duty to see that you gain the strength to overcome whatever challenges you will face."

"And... the second question?"

"That... is a question to which we do not know the answer, forsaken one. We cannot tell you why it is important to us, we may only tell you that it is important to us. The answers shall come in time, but for now know only that what remains of our existence depends upon our service to you."

As the Sage's voice trailed off, Ebony closed his eyes - shutting out the alien void in favor of the familiar darkness in his mind. Deep inside, a part of him was screaming. He was going mad, he knew. Talking to himself alone in the dark. He didn't remember how long he had been hearing the voices, now; had it been minutes, hours, days, weeks? It didn't matter.

He shook his head, trying to dispel his own worries. Madness or not, he was short on options. Without the help of these voices, whether they be real or unreal, he would never see the sun again. He steeled himself, readying once again for whatever it was that the voices were to ask of him.

"Very well, Sage," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. "One final question. What am I to do... to forge this destiny of mine?"

In place of a proper answer came a gust of wind, a veritable hammer of air whipping through the dark. It hit him square in the face at full force, nearly throwing him from the floor where he stood. His eyes closed on their own as he fought to stand his ground; at that very same moment, the wind was gone. Hesitantly, one at a time, he opened his eyes.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, he could see.

The endless void was replaced by something somehow all the more unsettling. He found himself in an empty room - devoid of detail, of anything to speak of. It was outright breathtaking in its emptiness. In every direction it was the same: nothing but the simple polished sheen of the perfectly flat metal walls. There were no entrances, no exits. There was nothing that could be emitting the light by which he could now see.

He looked to the floor between his hooves. His reflection looked back. A few moments passed. It dawned on him that his reflection was marred - between him and his image were three tiny red spots, barely large enough to see.

Blood. His blood.

He knew ponies could bleed, of course. He had read about it in books. But he had never seen it happen, not to himself nor to his mother. He had been told that a pony would bleed only when he was badly hurt - that blood was a rare sight, and a sign that something terrible had happened.

As he stared into his reflection, marred by three tiny drops of his own blood, he finally felt the pain.

A searing agony attacked him, as though a hot iron had been placed against his head. He screamed and screamed for all he was worth, then caught his breath and screamed some more. It was as if he had caught fire, burning to ashes while retaining his form. He screamed until he could scream no longer.

He collapsed, the pain ebbing away along with his energy. When he could finally open his eyes, he stared at the floor once again. Just as before, it stared back. He found himself focusing on the three drops of blood. In a way, he appreciated them; they brought color to his image, where before there was none. They were the only detail to speak of in an empty, colorless room.

At the same time, they struck true fear into his heart. In those three drops of blood, he saw reflected for the first time in his life the reality of his mortality. Twelve years under the proverbial wing of the only creature in the world with any compassion had taught him much, but they had never prepared him for this. The part of him that had been screaming all of this time had fallen silent. In its place a tiny, terrified voice whispered four simple words.

I may die today.

Ebony swallowed air, pulling himself back into the present. He licked his scarred lips, faintly recalling how he had gotten each wound. "Something broke inside me, that day. That foalish innocence, that sense of invulnerability that all children shared, I felt it draining away. From that moment forth, fear and pain would be my closest friends."

Twilight raised a hoof and opened her mouth as if to say something, but thought better of it. Her written record was nearly up to date when, to her surprise, the ink bottle ran dry. This had been the third one. She cast a cursory glance at a window; the sun was on the descent toward the horizon. Her entire body ached dully, as though she had been awake for days.

A part of her wanted to stop - to tell Ebony that they could finish his story another time, to make up some nonexistent chore that needed doing so that she could lay her head down and sleep right there on the spot. As she stared into the pegasus' dead eyes, she knew that that was not an option.

The phantoms of the past still haunted Ebony; she felt his time running short. Who am I, she thought, to turn away a pony in need? Twilight shook her head, freeing herself from her own thoughts. As a fresh bottle of ink uncorked itself, she yawned hugely into one hoof.

"Thank you," said the pegasus' low voice, floating as if from a great distance.

Twilight shot him a bewildered look. "Huh?"

"Thank you," he repeated, "for listening. In all of my many, many years I can think of very few who have been willing to know the pony behind the scars. Your simple willingness to listen means more to me than you could possibly know. So, I thank you."

The unicorn managed a glowing smile, which she held for all of three seconds before inadvertently splitting it into yet another massive yawn. "I'm sorry," she said, "I'm just a little..." her voice trailed off as she drifted down toward the table.

"Tired?" Ebony finished for her.

Twilight instantly jolted upright again, Ebony's voice having been akin in her mind to a cannon blast. She gave him an embarrassed smile. "Just... a little tired, yes."

He brought forth a silent chuckle, the life returning to his expression. "So I see. It's to be expected, I suppose; restoring sixteen hundred years of memories at once is no small feat, and sustaining a telekinesis spell - with a great deal of finesse, at that - for hours straight is nothing to scoff at either. I'm honestly impressed that you haven't passed out yet. Student of the princess, indeed."

"Oh," said Twilight, blushing furiously, "I'm not that great." Even now, she was still all too modest about her grand magical prowess.

"Ah, but you are. You do remember why I came to ponyville, don't you?"

"To look for a way to 'cure your condition', as you put it?" Twilight answered, unsure of what the pegasus was getting at.

"Close, but not quite." He said with a smirk. "I came to ponyville because I was told by a reliable source that you, Twilight Sparkle, could do for me what nopony else had been able to do. That you and you alone could restore my memory. You say you're not that great? I respectfully disagree."

A smile graced her lips, then. She felt herself involuntarily swelling with pride.

"However..." said Ebony, his voice taking on an exaggeratedly sinister tone. Twilight visibly deflated. "...every pony has their limits, and I can see that you are nearing yours. So what say you, Twilight? Shall we call it a night, and resume this endeavor in the morning? Or do you believe you have... power to spare? It is your call."

Twilight's mouth fell open in reflex, then shut itself. He was toying with her, she knew. He knew the answer she would give, despite the logic against it.

It is your call.

The words echoed in her mind, blurring her reason. She fought desperately to maintain her grasp on consciousness.

Shall we call it a night?

Her thoughts hitched. Night?

She looked up towards the window she had glanced out seemingly only moments before. Sure enough, beyond that thin layer of glass it was black as the void outside.

"Buh... wha...?" Twilight stammered. She shook her head furiously and rubbed her eyes with her hooves. She blinked away her drowsiness, disbelieving the truth of what she had just seen. As she looked back up toward the window, she found once again the comforting light of day.

Turning her bewildered gaze on the pegasus, she found him laughing hysterically. She didn't have to ask to know that whatever had just happened, it was his doing. Twilight crossed her forelegs in front of her with a huff.

"Ha, ha. Very funny. Care to tell me how you did... whatever that just was?"

Ebony shook his head feverishly from side to side, an impish grin splitting his face as he held in more laughter.

"We haven't reached that part of the story yet, silly. If you want to know, we'll have to continue. But only if you think you can take it."

Twilight stared into Ebony's maddened eyes. The same pony who had been praising her just moments before was now mocking her, challenging her power. She was convinced, now more than ever, that she had to know the whole story. She rose to the challenge; blinking away the last of her exhaustion and taking hold of a second quill pen, she somehow coordinated both to nearly double her writing speed. She waved a hoof at the pegasus, motioning him to go on.

"Marvelous!" he exclaimed with glee, clapping his front hooves together. Then, all at once, he melted back into his stoic storytelling demeanor. The difference was as jarring as if he had been on fire and then suddenly doused.

"For a time," he said, his low but powerful voice reverberating throughout the library, "I lay there in that dungeon, far beneath the surface of the world and more alone than ever. My patience dwindled."

"'Are you happy now, Sage?' I screamed. 'Is this another one of your lessons?' My own voice echoed back to me, bouncing off the walls of the tiny chamber what seemed a thousand times. It may have been only the madness creeping into my mind, but I could swear that on the tails of my screams I heard another voice.

"Yes."

The unmistakable ghostly call of the voices rang in Ebony's ears, only just loud enough to be heard.

"In order to truly appreciate the gift we have to offer, you must first come face to face with death."

"How long must you toy with me, Sage? How much must I suffer for you to be satisfied? How far must I bend before you are convinced that I will not break? I do not care about these lessons of yours! I do not care about being prepared! Give me your best shot! I am ready!"

As the echoes of his last words faded away, Ebony was greeted by a moment of silence. His answer came not in the form of the voice, but in a ringing that was now all too familiar.

The cacophony of metal against metal grew louder and louder, as unseen forces pressed together beyond the walls of the tiny prison.

Within the symphony of clangs came a voice - the haunting wails of all of the voices came together to deliver him a message of but two words.

"Very well."

With these two words, Ebony had a sinking feeling that he had made a terrible mistake.

When the floor of his prison opened up to swallow him, he knew it.

"I was a fool. I suppose the old sword was a better judge of character than I'd thought."

"I don't think so." Twilight ventured. "You're still here after all, aren't you?"

Ebony sighed heavily. "That's exactly the problem."

The unicorn blinked in surprise. "What?"

Ebony turned his gaze downward, inspecting the wear upon his ancient hooves. "That's right. In a way, I regret choosing to survive. For all it seemed that the Sage was toying with me, he did have my best interests in mind."

"He tried to tell me. He tried to teach me the value of the gift that awaited me at the end of my journey. More importantly, he tried to tell me that I had a choice. He wanted me to understand the weight of the path I was taking, to realize that it may be better to give in than to fight."

"Did I listen? No. I was a fool. And now I have all of eternity to atone for that decision. If I could go back, indeed, perhaps I would choose an early grave over... this." He spread his forelegs wide, looking down at himself; at the faded ashen fur, at all of the scars it covered.

"Or, indeed, perhaps I would not. For what does it mean... to have died before you have lived? I have fought for centuries to keep my right to survive, and with it the hope of one day having a chance to live."

"Yes, a part of me does regret choosing to survive. But a larger, louder part of me is proud to have made that choice; foolish, or not."

Twilight was speechless. Both of her quill pens trailed straight off of the parchment, scratching words into the bare tabletop. As she caught herself, she looked to the words she had carved into the wood.

For what does it mean, to have died before you have lived?

She shifted her gaze up, staring into the eyes of the ancient pegasus. His own vision was somewhere far beyond the library - lost in the distant past, in days far gone. His lips parted, and he spoke once again.

"Once, long ago, I read of a world beyond our own. A place where the souls of the wicked would go when they died. A place so horrible as to defy description, so terrible that no words in the common tongue were enough to convey the sheer terror that would be felt by any and all so unlucky as to behold it in all of its glory."

"The name the books had given this place... was Hell. Naturally, I had never believed such a place could exist. But oh, did it ever. For when I returned to the conscious world, there I stood - in the depths of a place so terrible that even my vast vocabulary is insufficient to describe it. And yet, even as I stood staring into the face of terror, an all-too-familiar voice rang in my ears."

"You face the Trial of Mortality. A place where the boundary between life and death becomes blurred. Where the forsaken ones throughout the ages have come to seek their purpose. Where you, forsaken one, will face horrors indescribable to prove your worth... and if you are worthy, claim the ultimate prize."

"Freedom."

At this point, Twilight was beyond being shocked at the things the pegasus was describing to her. At this last word, however, she blinked in surprise. "Freedom?"

Ebony nodded slowly. "Indeed. Freedom from want, freedom from fear, freedom from the ties that bind the wills of mortals. They promised me power. They promised me immortality. All I had to do was survive the Trial."

His eyes focused, and a humorless razor-toothed grin spread across his face. "Quite the sense of humor the old ones had, don't you think? I would be made indestructible after I had proven I did not need to be, and given freedom after spending what could well become eons as a prisoner."

He drifted back into his memories, not giving Twilight a chance to answer. "It's almost funny, you know." His voice grew more and more shaken, and a chill ran down Twilight's spine just watching the pegasus as he relived the past. "In the end, Hell was not such a terrible place. I traveled alone through the cold and the dark, the voices in my head as my guide. You could say that Hell broke my mind. You could say that. But you could also say that my mind broke itself."

"Indeed, for all its power and all its fury, anything the forces of nature could bring to life paled in comparison to those things that resided in my own imagination. On my journey through the dark, I would scream until my voice was so hoarse that I would never scream or laugh again. But no; Hell was not such a terrible place."

"Of all the things that I saw in that abyss of horrors, few were there that posed a true threat. The greatest and most terrible, indeed... were the Drilam. Hell was not such a terrible place."

Ebony fell silent. He twitched time and again, as though uncomfortable in his own skin.

Hesitantly, her voice nearly as shaken as his own, Twilight spoke. "The Drilam?"

His head began to bob up and down in an uneven rhythm. At the same time, he continued. "Yes, the Drilam. Those who came before." He spat the words as though they carried a vile taste to his mouth. "The Drilam were the old ones. They were the ones who ruled the world, long ago, before there were ponies. In their world there was no true law, no true order, no peace, no harmony. The driving force of the world was the desire of each individual man."

"This desire gave rise to many things, and caused the fall of many others. The Drilam forged the Blade of Eternity, as did they create this place, this dungeon, this Hell to house it. The Blade of Eternity was born of one man's desire - and in the end, that one man's desire would consume their entire race."

"Many came in search of the Blade. Some came alone, some in groups. Some would lose their minds to their own imaginations, others would fall to their corrupted brethren. Some would fight among themselves until none remained, still others would reach the Blade only to be claimed by its curse."

"In the end, all of the Drilam were forsaken ones. In the end, all of them would seek the freedom they were promised."

Ebony laughed a weak, silent laugh. "Hell was not such a terrible place."

"With the voices as my guide, I survived my journey through hell. At the end was a small, dimly lit chamber. In the center, rising out of a pile of ashes, stood the Blade of Eternity. This weapon, a sword like no other, had been the fall of a civilization. This weapon promised me power. It promised me immortality."

"I reached out toward it. I wanted to feel the power it held. But something stopped me. Out of the darkness beyond the blade, a single bony hand stretched out to grasp my leg - hovering in the air, just inches away from my goal."

"The voice of the Sage came to me - not from inside my own head, but finally from a source that I could see. The bones of the long-dead Sage had returned to life; one final, selfless attempt to save me from the path I had chosen."

"'You still have a choice, forsaken one.' he said to me. 'This is the last chance you will get. You still have a choice. You can continue on this path if you so choose, but know that there is no going back once you have bound yourself to the Blade.'"

"As he held my hoof in his skeletal hand, the ashes beneath the sword burst into flames. 'This is the alternative, forsaken one. You can be free of all of this; go to the world beyond this one and be at peace. All you must do is give yourself to the flame.'"

"Why?" Ebony asked of his ancient precursor. "Why, after I have come so far, would I give up now?"

The Sage's grip tightened on his hoof. "Because some fates are worse than death, forsaken one. You have seen what became of our race. Cursed, driven mad, bound to the will of one of our own creations for time beyond time. I do not wish the same fate on your people."

"Should you give yourself to the flame, your world will remain safe for a time. Since the end of my people, the Blade has slumbered. But now you come bearing the breath of life once more. Once awoken, the Blade yearns endlessly for a master - should you fall, it shall call to others like yourself until nothing remains. Everything you have ever known, gone. And it will have been your fault."

"As the flame washes the skin from the bone, so too does it wash the sin from the soul. One day soon the Blade will reawaken. A new forsaken one shall take up the call. But it does not have to be you. It does not have to be your responsibility."

"You may choose to give yourself to the flame, and go forth to that which awaits us beyond the eternal boundary. Or you may choose to become the master; to bind yourself to the Curse of Eternity and, if you are worthy, save both my people and yours. Only you can make that choice."

"What is your will, forsaken one? The flame... or the Blade?"

Though it would perhaps be the most important decision of his life, Ebony did not hesitate.

"I choose the Blade."

The Sage's skull tilted ever so slowly up, then down. When his voice once again reached Ebony's ears, it carried a deeply forlorn tone.

"Very well, forsaken one."

The skeletal hand released Ebony's hoof, then reached up into the dark. It returned carrying a silver chain from which dangled one half of a ruby. "Half of the shield of the forsaken; an amulet worn by the only Drilam warrior to ever become the master of the Blade. With this, we shall be both your shield and your sword."

He hung the amulet around Ebony's neck. "Now, you are ready."

The Sage stepped back into the darkness, quickly disappearing from view. His voice floated out of the dark to Ebony one final time.

"Fight well, forsaken one. Our fate rests on your shoulders, now."

As the Sage's last words faded and died, so too did Ebony feel something die within himself.

"I was alone. To some extent or another, I had always been alone. But this time it was different. This time I had the power; I had the responsibility. This time there was no one for me to look up to - no one to turn to for advice, no one to run to for help. No higher power to take orders from, no grand figure to make the hard decisions for me. I was alone, and the only thing I could count on was myself."

"Myself, and this sword."

"So I took it. I grabbed its handle between my teeth and pulled it from its home in the fire. The metal came alive at my touch - it pulsed, it flowed, it writhed between my jaws."

Ebony smirked. "I got the impression that it didn't like me very much."

Twilight tilted her head to one side. "I don't understand."

"Hmm?"

"Why," she asked, "would the sword call out to you if it didn't want you to be its master?"

"That," replied Ebony, "is a very good question. Tell me, Twilight: you're a well-read pony - you know of the subconscious mind, correct?"

"Of course." she instantly answered.

"Well, my understanding is that the Blade's conscious and subconscious... minds? The term does not seem appropriate for an object like a sword, but that is what I shall say for want of a better term. My understanding is that the Blade's two minds are greatly disconnected, just like they are presumed to be in ponies. In its subconscious mind, the Blade seeks a master. Its subconscious manifests itself in a form of magic - it reaches out, scouring the land for lost souls. The spirits it houses can feel when it has discovered a potential master; they call out to the unwitting wanderer, luring him toward his demise."

"It is not so much malevolent as it is childish. It has no way of knowing the destruction it causes, no way of understanding that by calling out to these forsaken creatures it is pulling them to their doom. It knows only that it longs for a master. In many ways, it is like an orphaned child crying out for a parent. Ring any bells?"

His meaning was not lost on Twilight, sure enough. She decided it best not to dwell on that point.

"But what about the spirits?" She asked. "The Blade doesn't understand what it is doing, sure - but the spirits do, don't they?"

"Yes..." Ebony droned, his voice suddenly ringing hollow. "The spirits know all... too... well..." His now-empty gaze fell to the table between his front hooves. His head swung from side to side like a furry ashen pendulum. "They say that they have no choice; that they must bow to the orders of the Blade - whether those orders be given consciously... or otherwise."

His eyes traced a crack in the table - a crack he had put there, not so long ago - as he went on. "To this day, I am not so sure I believe them. However..." He cast a glance over his shoulder at the pommel of his sword. Murky shadows danced beneath the flawless ruby's surface, betraying the tormented souls housed within. "...it is not my place to judge their methods. I cannot say I blame them. They have been trapped in this world for far longer than I, seeking only to be laid to rest. With every lost soul they call out to, they carry the hope that this time it will be the one, that this time the servant will become the master; that the curse will finally be broken, and that they can finally die."

With a hoof, Ebony held up the ruby amulet that hung from around his neck. He stared into it, and his reflection stared back. "I may be the master now. But I still owe them much. I owe them my survival a hundred times over..." He dropped the amulet, looking up to gaze into Twilight's eyes. "...and I owe them my sanity, or-" his pupils dilated sharply. Twilight felt his steel eyes staring straight into her soul. "-what remains of it... time and again. I owe them very much indeed."

His gaze relaxed, and Twilight released a breath she had not realized she'd been holding. Ebony returned to inspecting the cracks in the wood of the table as he went on. "So yes - in its subconscious, the Blade searches for a master and the spirits it houses bend to its will; they call out to the forsaken ones that roam the lands, bringing them to the Blade in the hopes of one day finding one worthy of breaking the curse. Its conscious mind, on the other hoof, is a very different story indeed."

"Where its subconscious has a directive, a drive that fuels its continued existence, its conscious mind has nothing. It has no purpose, no direction. It is but a child with no parent, alone in the dark, knowing naught but to squirm." Ebony glanced across the table, his muzzle still aimed at the floor. "Given the circumstances, it reacted surprisingly well to my intrusion. Tell me, Twilight-" he asked, sitting up straight to look into her eyes once again, "-how do you think you would have reacted had some pony you'd never met just come out of the blue and bit you, hm?"

Twilight blushed furiously, giving altogether more thought to the question than necessary. "Umm... I think I would react negatively if any pony were to bite me."

Ebony raised an eyebrow at her, sensing her thoughts had gone straight to the gutter. "Really, now? Interesting." He drew out the words to a ludicrous extent, the sounds sliding off of his tongue like rapidly melting butter. He gave a silent chuckle. "But you get what I meant, right?"

"R-Right." She replied shakily, blushing all the harder for having brought her embarrassment upon herself.

Ebony nodded, as if answering a question that hadn't been asked. "So... in our first encounter, the Blade decidedly did not like me very much. It writhed, it struggled, it squirmed... and it screamed. Have you ever heard metal scream, Twilight?"

She shook her head, not trusting in her voice.

"Be thankful." He said with a bitter smile. "It is not a sound I wish to ever hear again. Nor, indeed, shall I have to - for the scream was not directed at me."

Twilight watched fire dance in the pegasus' eyes as he stared into the past. She felt herself shiver, as if his burning gaze was pulling the heat from the room.

"That loathsome weapon, that vile hell-spawn of magic and desire, that abominable child that had toppled a civilization with its petulant wailing for company... had not been so alone after all. Those screams could have awoken the dead... had the dead not already been awake. No, in their place it awoke something all the more... evil."

"As I stood there paralyzed with the object of an entire race's desires clenched between my teeth, the world began to shake. The walls, forged of that same pristine metal that had stood for untold millennia; the earth beneath my hooves, which even in the darkest pits of hell had stayed strong; even the air, left undisturbed in the depths of the world since time immemorial; all began to tremble."

Ebony laughed a hollow, humorless laugh. "It was as if the earth itself had come to life, enraged at the sheer audacity of one such as I; one who dared enforce his will upon the Blade, dared to challenge the might of its original master."

His expression grew slack, melting into a vision of hopelessness the likes of which Twilight had never seen. "No, the earth itself had not come to life - but even if it had, I do not imagine it could have made the odds much worse."

Silence hung in the air. Until now, Twilight had been so patient as to put a saint to shame. At last, however, she could stand it no longer.

"ARGH!" She exclaimed. "The tension is killing me, Ebony! What was it? What did you see?"

The pegasus seemed at first to pay no heed to her frustration. Then, almost imperceptibly, the corners of his mouth curled up.

"Clang... clang... clang..."

The all-too-familiar sound echoed through the chamber, striking a chord in the terrified pony's mind that had already been struck its fair share and then some. The Blade trembled between his jaws - no longer of its own accord, but now for his ceaselessly chattering teeth.

Clang... clang... clang...

He wanted to run; he wanted to hide. One by one, he forced his hooves to move - shuffling, ever so slowly, away. A part of him knew, of course, that it was too late. He had made his choice, and it was time to face the consequences.

Clang... clang... clang...

When his retreating hooves met metal, he knew that he was trapped; he did not have to look to know that the door was gone. He would have faced every horror his mind could conjure a thousand times over this - but it was no longer his choice to make.

Clang... clang... clang...

There was nothing left to be done. As though the final piece of a puzzle had clicked into place, Ebony knew the answer. He faced a fate worse than death. The least he could do was face it with some dignity.

Clang... clang... clang...

He lowered himself into a predatory crouch, like that of a great cat preparing to spring. The tip of the Blade dragged through the earth, carving a map of his movements. He spread his jet-black wings wide, a vain attempt at radiating a presence larger than he was.

Clang... clang... clang...

He was ready.

Clang... clang... clang...

With a final trio of measured, cacophonous footfalls came the demon of the metal. It stepped into the light of the fire, everything Ebony remembered and more. Its chains rattled, its claws lashed at the air. Hundreds of razor-sharp teeth grinned out at him in an unearthly smile.

Ebony stared into the face of an embodiment of inconceivable evil - and yet, he felt only peace.

The abomination reared up, inhaling mightily. It drew air into nonexistent lungs - and with it, the fire that lit the chamber. As darkness engulfed the pegasus, he heard once again the sound of mocking laughter filling his ears. It was a voice at once both disgustingly alien, and eerily familiar.

As the vile cackling grew to its full volume, there was an explosion of light. Light... and fire. The horror of blades and chains and teeth roared with unnatural laughter even as its body became wreathed in flames.

Ebony stood his ground as the creature's amusement fizzled and died. He gazed upon its visage no longer with fear, but now with morbid fascination. The monster had no eyes to speak of, but there was no doubt in his mind when it was looking directly at him. The razor-toothed grin fell from its face.

It lashed out at him - as much in frustration at his calm demeanor as anything else - a single, burning chain whipping out to literally strike fear back into him.

As if guided by some unseen force, Ebony swung the Blade with a flick of his head. The air whistled at his speed, and metal crashed against metal. The Blade seared through the chain as a hot knife would through butter, and the monster howled in what could only be described as pain.

The metallic demon fell back, glaring without eyes at the comparatively tiny creature that had caused it such agony. It reared up, drawing in air once again.

Something was wrong. A voice in Ebony's mind cried out in terror, and every muscle in his body screamed in unison - Move! But still he stood his ground. A hissing sound filled the air, and he could see the slightest hint of a smile creep into the monster's visage. His mind was flying at a mile a minute, but his body refused to keep up. His wings flapped a single, ineffectual time.

It was too late. His eyes went wide as his world caught ablaze.

"That was the first time I died." Ebony snickered, as if amused by the memory. "Burned to ashes in a demon's fire. I would say it was a quaint end, had it truly served to end anything."

Twilight's mouth fell open and, for a moment, simply stayed that way. A question that she was not quite sure she should ask danced on the tip of her tongue.

"Ebony?" she asked.

"Yes, Twilight?"

"What is it... like?" she ventured. "...dying, I mean."

The pegasus smiled an odd, whimsical smile. "It's not so bad, really. It hurts at first, sure. But the pain is... liberating. Cleansing, even. It's like when you peel a scab from a wound just to let it breathe. Then the pain passes... and it's peaceful. Truly peaceful, like... when you sleep and have no dreams."

A look of worry crossed Twilight's face, and he quickly went on. "I do not know if that is what it's like to really die. After all, I am still here." She visibly relaxed. Then, determination flashed in Ebony's eyes. He transfixed the unicorn with his gaze. "But know that there are far worse fates than eternal sleep, Twilight Sparkle. I would have turned my blade on myself centuries ago, had I thought it would do me any good."

Twilight swallowed air, completely unsure how to respond.

Ebony's mouth turned up in a bitter smile. "The hardest part of dying... is coming back. Your own thoughts drift out of the darkness and before you know it, you're aware of your own existence again. Drifting along in the dark, you get to thinking about things. You think about all of the things you've left undone - all the experiences untasted - and it's on you to stand up and shout, 'No! I am not finished!'"

"The dying gets easier. Of course, for me, coming back was not truly my choice. Being left alone in the dark with your thoughts is not quite the tranquil peace you expect of death. No, I had to come back each time because the things I left unfinished would never let me rest."

"So it was that I awoke from my first brush with death. So it would be that I would awake from all of those that came after. I found myself lying on the cold earth, staring into a room lit by an unseen source. The fire was gone, but the light remained. Only just light enough to see. By that light, I could see something that I no longer wanted to - the Blade of Eternity."

"It lay at my feet, as a dog at the feet of his owner, begging to be played with. I wanted no part of it, of course. I picked it up, threw it into the dark with all of the strength I could muster." In a flash, he stood up from his seat and drew his sword from its scabbard. With a flick of his head, he sent it soaring across the library - straight at a shelf stocked with volatile spellbooks.

Twilight wasn't sure how to react. On instinct she lurched up from her pillow, reached futilely out toward the airborne weapon. Her thoughts untangled themselves and she lashed out with her magic, her mouth at once dropping open intending to shout at the maddened pegasus. Then she blinked, and the sword was gone.

She turned her gaze back to Ebony, and there it was - back in its scabbard, draped across his back as he sat leisurely on his pillow. Twilight shook her head, then settled back into her seat.

Showing utter disregard for her display of panic, Ebony went on. "But it was futile. As I was bound to the blade, so too was it bound to me. Each time I sent it away, it always came back. It was not so long before I realized my own foolishness, and accepted my fate."

"As I sat there alone in the dark, pondering the state of my own existence, I was finally graced once again with the 'honor' of a spirit's company. It was the Sage."

"'A fitting first death for you, forsaken one.' He said to me. 'There is fire in your heart. Perhaps you shall become the master yet. But fire alone is not enough, as you have experienced firsthand. You must have something to kindle that flame.'"

"'I suppose, by now, you are wondering why you still... live. And perhaps, by extension, why we do not. The amulet you wear about your neck is no idle trinket. The shield of the forsaken is fueled by our strength - the strength of the lost souls who came before. We give of ourselves to protect your body, that you may have a chance to one day save our souls.'"

Ebony's visage fell. "They said they had given me a gift of immeasurable value - but what they had truly given me, of course, was an obligation. Insurmountable responsibility. I do not regret taking their offer, mind you - but I do regret not being able to pay them back after all these years."

"It happened that the Lady was the one who gave of herself to save me from that... thing. We had not known each other long, but she was... different from the others. In life, she must have possessed a depth of faith far beyond that of the other Drilam. Her sacrifice alone was enough to carry me through a hundred deaths. I do not regret failing myself... but I regret failing her."

He turned his eyes up from the table, meeting Twilight's gaze. He sighed heavily. "I suppose, by now, you're wondering just what it was that I was fighting - and perhaps more importantly, why. In the Sage's words, this creature was the guardian of the Blade; it housed the soul of the first of the fallen, who forged the Blade and lost himself when he gave it life. Its form was a manifestation of his chaotic spirit, its fire a sign of his ambition - his passion, however misguided."

"The old ones sensed in me the presence of a similar fire - though not a... literal one. Not yet. They knew perhaps long before I did that I would become the next master of the Blade, and that I was the only one who could save them now. They gave freely of themselves, placing all of their hopes and fears on my shoulders."

Ebony smirked. "So it was that I walked back into the meat grinder, my head held high. I faced the guardian again, took another small piece from his body. So it was that I died again." He chuckled. "This time the manner of my death was... not so pleasant."

"It's almost funny, you know." He said in an airy tone. "All of these scars... and almost every one of them came from my battle against the guardian. Burned, bludgeoned, bled dry. Every wound had healed each time I awoke, but every one left its own unique scar."

"I came back for more. With each death I grew stronger, faster, smarter. I learned from my failures, took more and more from that metal demon with every encounter. The Blade grew along with me; with every piece I sheared from the guardian, it shared with me more of its secrets."

"After ten deaths, the Blade's grip molded to my hooves - that I could wield it like the Drilam of old did, standing on my hind legs and fighting in a dance rather than a crude show of force. After twenty deaths, the guardian's chains became mine - no longer had I to near his jaws, I could strike from wherever I wished. After fifty, the metal reshaped itself at my will. After a hundred, I was the guardian's superior."

"Closer and closer I came to striking it down. A hundred deaths had I suffered at its claws, and now I was to exact a single death in vengeance. It spewed a final, desperate blast of fire at me and I swatted the flames from the air as though they were nothing. I held my sword high overhead, and stared into the mouth of the demon for one final time. Even in the face of its imminent demise, I heard no sounds of dismay from the guardian of the Blade - only that same mocking laughter."

"The monster that had killed me a hundred times lay battered and broken before me... and yet it continued to laugh. My sword came down with a fury that I have never experienced before or since. I slashed and I chopped and I cleaved and I do not know if I ever would have stopped had the Sage's skeletal hand not alighted on my shoulder."

"'You have fought well, forsaken one.' He said to me. I wanted to laugh in his face. A hundred failures before a single success, and he said that I fought well? It was the first time I had reason to laugh in longer than I could remember at the time. That was, of course, when I finally discovered that I would never hear the sound of my own laughter again."

A moment of silence passed. Just as Twilight began to wonder what was going through his head, he went on.

"'The guardian of the Blade lays slain before you. You are the master, now... Ebony. Your trial is over; your journey begins. Run.'"

"As that last word echoed in my mind, the world went black - blacker than it already was. The Sage faded away, as did everything else. The next thing I knew I was on my back, gazing up at a clear blue sky. I thought to myself for a single, sweet moment that it was all just a dream."

Ebony's face fell. "That illusion was shattered when I found the strength to look down at myself. My fur had gone from black to an ashen gray, and through it I could see the scars from a thousand wounds that all seemed to scream at me, 'Fool! You were a fool!'"

He cast a look over his shoulder, at the Blade which lay across his back. "And, of course, there was this. The Blade of Eternity. With some of the excess mass, it had formed a scabbard to call home." He looked down at himself, at the strip of black leather that held his weapon of choice to him. "To this day, I still do not know for certain from what creature the leather came. My best guess is that it is some of my own hide - blackened and tanned, to cement the bond between myself and the Blade I carry with it."

His gaze rose to meet that of the unicorn across the table. "So, there I was. Immortal, powerful, master of the Blade. But also broken, battered, driven half mad. The Sage's last words echoed in my mind. My journey began. I ran."

Ebony fell silent. Where once his voice had rang throughout the library, there remained an almost palpable air of loneliness - as if the atmosphere itself were saddened by the silence.

"Ebony?" Twilight asked, so many questions left unanswered.

"Mhmm?" he grunted in response, chewing the edge of a hoof while he admired the ceiling.

"I don't get it."

His attention returned to her. "What?"

"I don't get it. The spirits promised you power, immortality, and freedom at the end of the trial. You passed through this 'hell' place even though you said you could be trapped there for eons. You defeated the guardian of the Blade; you passed your trial. You earned the power, immortality, and freedom they promised you."

The pegasus blinked, offering no immediate response.

"You've lived for longer than the princesses have been in power. You carry the magical artifacts of a long-dead civilization. You've traveled the world for centuries, and you've had a personal impact on history through Starswirl the bearded. I guess I understand that you're tired of living after so long, and that you want to pay the spirits back for their help."

"But I don't understand this: why me? If you need this curse broken so badly, why come to a small town librarian pony when you could surely go straight to Celestia? And just how is it that I've never heard of you before? An immortal, flightless pegasus carrying treasures from a forgotten world? You're not in any history books or, for that matter, any records of any kind! It doesn't make any sense. None of it does!"

Twilight fell silent, and Ebony blinked again. His blank expression slowly shifted into an impish grin - a foalish look that said, "I know something you don't know!"

"Ah," he said, clicking his tongue, "I see. You really don't get it. You say it doesn't make any sense? I suppose that's just as well - it shouldn't. Because I haven't told you the whole story yet."

Twilight gave him a look of mixed confusion and annoyance. "If the story isn't over, then why did you stop?"

He gave her a baffled expression, as if the answer should be obvious. "Why, to get exactly the reaction out of you that you gave me, of course! I wanted to see for myself how you would react being given only half of the pieces of a puzzle. Would you draw conclusions yourself? Or would you seek out the true nature of the missing pieces?" He gave a hearty, albeit silent, laugh. "I find the results most amusing indeed."

The look Twilight was giving him only deepened.

"Oh, don't make a fuss about it. Very well - let's take it from the top, shall we? Starting with the promises. Yes, the spirits promised me power, and they promised me immortality. They also promised me freedom. They did not, however, say that those rewards came joined at the hip. I gave up my freedom when I chose the Blade over the flame. In return, I was granted the chance to battle the guardian - and when I was victorious, I earned power and immortality. Had I chosen the flame instead, I would have had freedom. Freedom from want, freedom from fear, freedom from the ties that bind the wills of mortals. I would have been free of everything, for I would have been dead."

Ebony smirked. "I never said I could have spent eons as a prisoner in hell. I would be given back all of the freedom I had had and more... after I had spent what could become eons as a prisoner of the curse. A prisoner in my own body, my spirit chained to this world."

"Yes, I struck down the guardian of the Blade, and I became its master. My trial was over, but my journey had only just begun. There was much to be done. Yes, I carry the treasures of a lost world. Yes, I have my share of hoof-prints in history. Yes, I still owe the spirits much. And yes, I have tried to pay them back."

"I did go to Celestia once. Long, long ago. But a curse is a stubborn thing. It is not something you can wave away with magic, friendship, or wishful thinking. There are rules that must be followed - conditions that must be met. Conditions only known by those who would remember the old ways. Powerful though she is, Celestia is not one of them."

Twilight's expression grew dark. She did not much like the idea of there being anything the princess could not do.

"So now we come to the final pair of questions. 'Why have I not heard of you?' and 'Why me?'" He snickered. "It happens that these two questions both have the same answer. The short version is that I have never been able to spend much time in your world. The long version is, well, a part of the rest of the story. I suppose you want a hint in advance, don't you? Well then - riddle me this, Twilight Sparkle."

"The remnants of a fallen civilization call to me because I am forsaken - a lost soul, whose death no one shall mourn. They send me through hell as though it were an elaborate obstacle course. They break my mind as a simple measure of preparation. They give me a chance to give up after I've survived every challenge they've thrown at me."

"When I do not take that chance, they give me a sword and a necklace and throw me into an impossible battle that I am to lose near-countless times before succeeding. And when I do succeed, obtaining power to rival that of a god in the process, one of my guides looks into my eyes and tells me to run."

"Tell me, Twilight Sparkle. Why do you suppose that is?"