The creature panted heavily as he reached the crest of the hill. His tongue felt like sandpaper from the harsh treatment he had given himself while running. He could not recall the taste of his favorite foods. Peaches and cream, crisp, watery salad, tender meat that squeezed out juice when you cut it...

He was carnivorous, yes. But upon his living experience with the peace-loving ponies, he had learned to cut back on his meat-based diet. It was actually Princess Celestia that had introduced him to some of his favorite foods, like warm, buttery rolls, fat, juicy strawberries covered in rich dark chocolate, the crunchy celery with strings that got in between your teeth...

Stop it! he told himself irritably. You're just making things worse!

His stomach roared in protest.

He had barely eaten since he had overheard the ominous conversation between Marshal Malice and the king of Tartarus. Thankfully, neither master nor servant had spotted him. The first available instant, he had begun his swift departure from the tortured landscape of Tartarus, evading at all costs Marshal Malice, or, Celestia forbid, Lord Tirek. There was almost nothing edible in that country, and he had run very, very fast.

He had to warn Celestia. He had to.

He had wings, but both age and an unfortunate accident had made them practically unusable. So instead, he kept his wings folded on his back, and covered himself up with a long black cloak. He, unlike the ponies, was tall and bipedal and was thickly built. That was all the ponies looking at him could ascertain. The rest of his features were covered up with his tall black cloak with a wide hood.

Nopony should see him. Nopony.

The sound of running water made his ears perk up. Relying on hearing alone, he thirstily wandered around the top of the hill.

After a few minutes he finally he came across a thick stream of water running down the opposite side of the hill. The water was pristine and clear.

"Il Grata Celestia." He thanked Celestia in the Ancient Tongue before dropping to his knees and drinking happily. The water washed over his hardened tongue blissfully. He kept his mouth in the fast-flowing water for forty-five seconds before he took it out. He then scooped his hands into the water and forcefully splashed it on his face.

He groaned and stretched his back. It popped in relief like he was popping corn. His stomach made an uncomfortable sound upon making the analogy, and he sighed in resignation. He flopped on the cool, wet grass. For several minutes he just lay there, panting hard. It was tough, breaking into and escaping Tartarus while being undetected by anyone, then running with little to no food or water over the course of the next few days. It was only the day before that he had finally managed to escape the landscape, and when he did, he felt a rush of relief, like he wasn't being drained of strength anymore, though he was still much, much weaker than he was usually. But his strength didn't matter. He didn't care what had happened to him, as long as Celestia heard the message he needed to tell her.

He extended his fingertips. Black, dark spiky magic churned around his fingers and circled around them like a brewing storm. He exhaled hard with the effort it took to conjure it. He couldn't conjure his magic in Tartarus. Nopony could. So long as the king of Tartarus was in his domain, he could block any and all external magic entering Tartarus. It was a long time since he had conjured his magic, and it got more and more difficult every time to conjure it. He finally grunted again after a few minutes, and the magic cut off with a sizzle.

He sat up, and looked at the lone landmark he could see in the sky. On top of a tall mountaintop, faint from the distance and small, was Canterlot. The mountain looked to be about the size of his thumb if he held it up. He could just make out the waterfall cascading down the side of it. And it looked so far away...

At least I'm not in Tartarus anymore, he thought, trying to reassure himself.

He finally stooped down and ate a bit of grass. It wasn't much, and he wished he could have other, more tasty things, but strength wasn't an affordable commodity for him. Anything he could take, he would, until he reached Canterlot and delivered his news. He knew that his own strength didn't matter to him. All that mattered was that Celestia heard him.

He finally stood up. After collecting himself, he jogged down the mountain in the direction of Canterlot as if he was being followed.

But little did he know that it was true.