"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?"