The creature was exhausted. He had been hiking through the woods for such a long time now and he had lost count of the days he had spent traveling. Sweat adorned his brow. His breaths came short and heavy. He was just so tired, and he hadn’t had much to eat. The sizzling smell of roasted meat, the sweet, creamy taste of peanut butter, the tart juiciness of strawberries...his imagination ran wild with the privilege of once more supping at Celestia's table.

Squirrels came about often, and he’d eat them if they crossed his path, but he ate them raw, and on the go. He could go for a long time on raw food, but not forever. But there were more important things to him than food. Celestia was more important than anything else, except for maybe the message he had to give to her.

How was it that she would not know by now? When she had found the Unforgiven, one of the great and destined from before the world began, it was because it had come to her in a dream. And that dream came to her because of Faust herself.

Oh, Faust was in trouble! The king of Tartarus was planning on making war on the surface! What was he going to do?

The creature stopped and leaned his hand on the nearest tree. He bent down and caught his breath; he had been going for half an hour by now. In the distance, the tall towers of Canterlot on the side of the mountain seemed so far away, but he had been getting closer now. Tilting his eyes to regard the magnificent city, he estimated that he would reach the base of the mountain in only two days, if he hurried.

He briefly considered using his wings under his large hooded cloak to fly up, but he decided against it; they had been permanently injured by his hate-filled brother when he was a child. To attempt to use them now was sheer folly.

He flexed his fingers and muttered some words under his breath. His fingers became encircled about by black spiky magic, drawn from a darker period in his life when he regularly practiced it. He considered using magic to teleport himself. But no, he thought. If he did that, he could be tracked by some of the more magic-inclined beasts in the world. Doubtless by now Marshal Malice would be back in his kingdom, and he could feel the magic being used in each part of the world.

Marshal Malice. Such a creature would be out for blood alone. The abducting of the Unforgiven had doubtless driven him to prepare for war against Equestria. It had taken a long time, but wars took time to prepare, and Malice had finished faster than he had expected.

What would Celestia say? The two of them hadn’t met in a long time, even though they were both close friends. Would she be happy to see him? Would she chastise him for taking so long to visit? It wasn’t his fault; he had been busy on tasks of his own.

Did Celestia even know about the original Ten Elements? What had she done with them? Why? Those were questions the creature could not answer; he was not a child of Faust like Celestia was. He had come from a distant land, long after the creation of the world. Celestia had been around for much longer than him.

“Sa krathasa ik,” he commanded, and the magic encircling his fingers cut off. He shook his hand like he was shaking water off, then he turned his attention back to Canterlot. It wouldn’t take long now, and when he met up with Celestia, she would finally see him. It had been so long since he had last seen her. The last time they had met, his brother had been rather unfriendly to Celestia, and it had resulted in disastrous circumstances. Suspicious glances, furious accusations, indecision on what snack to have at lunch, almost destroying Equestria, that sort of thing. It happened surprisingly quickly, now that the creature thought about it.

The creature strode forth on two legs and went, exhausted, but filled with resolve, towards the mountain. Towards Celestia.

Hiding in the bushes behind him, however, another creature was tracking him and wisely staying out of earshot. That creature shuffled on his six black legs and clicked his fangs in anticipation of his meal.