The strange, hulking beast, draped in a cloak from blackest night, strode forth on gnarled legs along the path leading to Canterlot Castle. The night all around him enveloped his identity until he could not be identified until he was directly in front of anyone. The creature was grateful for that, at least.

He looked up at the skies once more. The moon shone like a spotlight on Canterlot Castle. The stars speckling the night sky like freckles added to the luster and gleam of the atmosphere. It was an entirely clear night, save for a single cloud high above the tallest spires of the castle. The creature felt himself take a deep breath and exhale softly. It was good, to be in such a place of majesty, but it was not his purpose to admire the beauty of the night.

As he went along, wrapped tightly in his coverings, his wide eyes traveled over to the sides. Ponies, dressed in impossibly fancy clothing in light pastel colors, spotted him and gasped in horror, or made faces of disgust and turned away.

The creature had expected that. He understood that his appearance wouldn’t be widely accepted among the ponies in the land; especially considering that the last time he had visited, it had been centuries prior. He had tailed death and destruction behind him as well, making it even harder for him to believe that his appearance would be a good thing.

But he wasn’t expecting his appearance to be a good thing as well; he knew that the next time he returned to Equestria, it would be to bear the news that the world was on the hinge of destruction. Celestia knew it, the creature knew it, and everyone who had known about the prophecies of old had known it.

He eventually came near to the gates blocking entry to the castle, only several meters away. Evidently, after a set time, the gates were closed to visitors.

This didn’t bother the creature all that much; he simply raised a hand under his cloak and casually swished two fingers through the air. After several clicks, the gate unlocked itself, the bars atop the gate slid aside, and the gates, with an oily creak, swung inwards.

The creature strode forth through the gates, and when he was in, he glanced back with a casual stare. Behind him, at his command, the gates swung back together and clanged back into place.

“Hey! Did you hear that?”

“I heard it, too!” another voice cried out. “It came from the gates!”

The creature paid no mind to the voices, however. He simply carried on with his steps, now coming in quick bursts. He was still wrapping his cloak tightly around him.

Eventually, however, his progress was halted by the flapping of wings. Turning his head to the side disinterestedly, he noticed roughly a dozen Royal Guard settling down to the ground and landing all around him, trapping him in a circle.

The Prophet didn’t even slow down.

“Sir,” the lead guard said. “You weren’t invited to the Gala. If you would be so kind as to turn around...” He stopped when he saw that the creature towering over him obviously wasn’t paying any attention to him, and hurriedly ran ahead of him to stop his progress. “Sir!” he cried. “I must insist--”

The Prophet lifted his gnarled brown hand out of the cloak and extended his fingers. “Llavaru my’ak SA!”

An explosive burst of power emanated from his center, throwing the Royal Guard back, spinning to the ground and crashing their heads into the earth. The Prophet hadn’t intended to kill them; he knew they were simply doing their job and were just cautious of any intruders. He couldn’t expect to be troubled with killing those that posed no threat to him. So, without looking back, he strode onward.

Even that small usage of power had drained him almost entirely, he was so weak. The creature had to refrain from stumbling with every step he took from then on. He took his breath in deep pants, and went slower than usual.

As he went, he noticed that no alarms so far had been raised as to his entry. He was grateful for that. Word hadn’t gotten around quick enough for mobilization. But it also meant that the Royal Guard needed more training, which would be useful for the months to come.

After a while, he eventually reached the massive double doors acting as an entry point into Canterlot Castle. Outstretching a hand, he laid it on the soft wood and moved it over to the brass lock. A whisper of his dark power made the locks inside shift around and change, and a dark coil of spiky energy leaked out of the lock and moved to cover the edges and cracks of the massive doors, until every crack in the door shone with unnatural power.

With a twist of his mind, the Prophet commanded the door to open.

With a loud, overriding creak, first one door, then the other, banged open and collided against the walls, heralding his sudden appearance with two intrusive BOOMs. The open doorway revealed to everypony in the front entryway the form of the creature’s misshapen body, cloaked in black, slouching, and stretching forth a hand. His bowed head gave no indication to his facial features.

The Prophet simply walked on the red carpet leading in with long, sweeping strides, his cloak billowing out from behind him. His fist raised up in the air, and the doors swung inward and closed with a resounding BOOM.

His progress was unhindered as he made his way up the front steps; everypony else was simply looking away in either fear or disgust. The creature inferred by now that normally only ponies would be allowed to be accepted into their normal society. Things had definitely changed since he had first entered Equestria.

At the top of the steps, the creature could hear the sounds of melodious, peaceful music playing from behind the closed doors. The music reinvigorated him, giving strength to his weakened frame and adding adrenaline to his slow veins. What made him perk up even more was the smell of delightful treats and drinks, seemingly seeping through the crack between the doors.

“Al’yaru...dy’sanshat...bion shal al’ror…” he muttered, the chanting giving him strength. The chant was in the tongue of the Rada, before it had been eliminated from the face of the earth.

“Hey!” a voice cried from behind him. “Just what do you think you’re doing here? You don’t have a ticket! Besides, the Gala’s closed to new admissions, and I don’t think you would have...gotten past the...royal...guard...”

The creature turned around and looked down at who had spoken. At his waist level was a pony in a ridiculously attired suit, top hat, and monocle. The pony, upon seeing the gaze directed at him by the creature, fell silent and gulped down his fear.

“Seshnu,” the Prophet murmured casually, and the pony suddenly went cross-eyed. He stumbled off in wide, stiff steps, his mind wiped temporarily blank, and the creature redirected his attention to the door.

His dark power was almost at its end, but now, so close to the end of his journey, when the music played so sweetly and the smells of foods he hadn’t tasted for so long tickled his nose, he suddenly found himself reinvigorated and more powerful than he felt before. Pressing himself for magic, he pointed at the bottom of the door with a finger.

“STOP RIGHT THERE!” came a new voice, and the front doors banged open once more. Galloping through the front doors were a full score of the Royal Guard, who spread out in two lines to the sides of the civilians. The commanding voice, from the lead pegasi guard, continued to speak. “Lay down yourself! Hands in the air, where I can see them!”

The Prophet, without even turning around, raised a gnarled brown fist in the air and twisted it sharply. Instantly, each and every guard collapsed to the ground, fallen fast asleep.

Among the gasps that reached every Canterlot citizen, one of them said, “Well, he raised his hand, all right…”

Vinyl Scratch could hear the sounds of the music playing from backstage. The distinctive sound of Octavia’s cello reached her ears like a familiar message being played to her over and over again. A curtain separated Vinyl from the rest of the Gala’s attendees.

Her head still had the image of Freedom Fighter’s scarred and mutilated head in the forefront. Vinyl had been repulsed by the sight, but she was only scared of the scars. Showing himself to her as a sign of trust was all that mattered to her.

The poor dude was like that everywhere on his body. No wonder he didn't want to show her it. He obviously thought it would damage how she viewed him.

“But naw, man,” Vinyl muttered, taking off her sunglasses to see better in the darkness behind the stage. “You're doing fine because you showed me it.”

It was fun being introverts with him. To not even really do stuff, but just be there by his side because he didn't want to be anywhere else.

Looking past the scars...he was even kinda rugged. Rugged in the hot, ripped kind of way.

The thoughts distracted her so that she almost didn't notice it.

She ran her eye over the soundboard controlling the speakers for the Gala. And she did it once more.

“Wait a sec,” she muttered. She sifted through a cardboard box atop the soundboard with her magic. “Where’s the mic and the little radio I had here?” After rummaging through the box she added, “And the earpiece, too?”

A dark, scuttling shadow with six legs moved up the wall behind her into the buttresses, unseen and quiet.

Vinyl finally gave up and settled the box down again. “Now I gotta buy more of those things,” she muttered under her breath. “Never around when you need ‘em.”

The air was peaceful and warm; the music calming and beautiful. Noble Blade made a revolution of the room with his head. Pinkie Pie was engorging herself with hors d’ouvres. Applejack was explaining to an interested couple the benefits of apple-based industry. Twilight was comfortably chatting with Starlight Glimmer and Princess Celestia and Spike was simply nibbling a slice of strawberry-drowned cake. Fluttershy was by his side, he had spotted Firestorm dancing with Rainbow Dash, and Freedom Fighter had been sitting in a corner with a punkish-looking mare, being polite and interested. Now, he was still sitting in a corner, but he was at peace with himself instead of stressing about himself. For the moment, for Noble Blade, and for the ponies he was responsible for, all was good in the world.

“Oh, Fluttershy,” he murmured, squeezing her shoulder and laying a hoof on hers. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she whispered passionately from the seat next to him. “I’ll say it every day of my life, Noble. I don't want you to forget just how much you mean to me.”

“If anything happens,” he cooed, “I’ll be there to solve it. If you’re tired, I’ll help you sleep. If you’re sad, I’ll cheer you up.”

“I’ll never be sad with you around,” she breathed. She shifted in her seat to look him in his deep blue eyes and moved her mouth closer and closer to his.

A sharp, deafening cracking noise suddenly reached over the air, cutting through the lovely atmosphere like a sword and halting every joyous movement. The music stopped, the dancing cut off, the sounds of conversation froze as the air seemed harder to breathe all of a sudden; thinner and more perilous than before. One mare was so startled that she dropped the glass plate she was holding and it shattered, adding a further sense of uneasiness to the Grand Galloping Gala.

The three Princesses, the four other Elements of Harmony in the room, and the two Guardians of the Sun whipped their heads over to the door in time to see a single slicing motion go on from behind the door, but was inexplicably seen from their side. The slice was made out of a dark energy, breaking the bolts holding the door in place.

The door was motionless for just a second, then they swung inward slowly.

The lone dark figure standing in the doorway was tall and hunched over, so his face drooped towards the ground. His shadow stretched along the ground and almost reached the opposite end. He was enveloped in a dark cloak that covered every inch of his body, save for his hand, which was up and out to the side. He had evidently used his hand to swing upward, cleaving through the door’s restraints.

Celestia and Luna ignited their horns warily at the sight of the visitor, who now walked inside, his cloak billowing from behind him, uncaring of the attention he had received from every single notable pony in Equestria. As he walked by, he exuded an aura of unnatural and humbling power, divine and holy, yet bitter and cold. Ponies he walked by shivered and shied back from him, whispering in fear.

The creature raised his fist to the square, and the doors banged shut behind him, with nary a look to the side nor a moment of hesitation in his footsteps. He individually pointed at the massive open windows, and one by one they banged shut, causing a draft in the room with each breath of the swinging colored windows. His strides did not stop, and as he made a beeline for Celestia and Luna, ponies melted out of his path.

All except for one.

Twilight had bravely positioned herself directly in front of the other princesses. Still in her flowing pink Gala dress, she stomped the ground resolutely. “That’s enough, you creature!” she commanded. “Stop and state your business here!”

And this time, the creature finally stopped in his path, looking down on the small alicorn with...worshipful wonder. It was as if Twilight was a fascinating work of art that he had spent his entire life searching for.

The action made Twilight blink in relief. “Oh, good. I’m glad you stopped. You’re at least...well, you’re at least better than other things to happen at Galas beforehoof, I suppose. Now, why are you here?” Twilight ordered him.

And then, to Twilight’s astonishment, the creature draped in black swept his cloak back and bowed before Twilight while he was still a far distance off. “Ra’sa’guan al shanto,” he intoned deeply, reverently. Shivers ran up her back at the mystical language. “Ulu bion then, Twilight Sparkle.”

And instantly, to Twilight’s surprise, the black form of Freedom Fighter leaped in between Twilight and the mysterious creature, his long black staff held out to the side. “OH, NO YOU DON’T!” Freedom Fighter roared at the creature from inside his mind.

With a flick of his hoof, he twisted the staff’s connecting bolts, and the staff raged a glowing yellow, causing everypony in the room to gasp. He jerked his hoof back and the two hinges set on the staff snapped back, turning the staff into a magical yellow bow with a string of glowing energy. Gripping the string with a free hoof, he pulled it back, a yellow arrow instantly appeared, and he let it loose.

The yellow bolt of energy sang its deep, deadly hum through the air as it targeted the creature’s bowed head.

And it stopped not a foot away from his face as the creature, fast as lightning, caught the magical bolt of buzzing yellow energy in his tight gnarled fist.

He held it there, to the astonishment of everyone in the room, and squeezed the arrow made of pure energy until it dripped out of his fist and coiled down his ragged brown wrist and evaporated in the air. He shook his hairy hand free like he was shaking off water, and the last of the yellow energy dissipated.

“Who...are...you?” Freedom Fighter asked in astonishment. His mouth didn’t move, but his leaning posture and widened eyes spoke everything. “You spoke the Rada tongue…”

The creature lifted his head up to look the warrior in the face, his hood still cloaking him in shadow. “I speak many tongues, Unforgiven,” he said to him, making the pony freeze in shock. “Though nopony exists now that speaks it, now you and I must carry it on.”

Freedom Fighter snapped his bow back into a glowing yellow staff and leveled it at the creature like he was holding a sword. The staff was shivering, though, in his nervous arm. “Don’t…” he whispered lowly in his mind. “Don’t you dare call me that name. You...dare to speak that name to me? Here, and now? How dare you tell everyone!”

“It is who you are,” the creature said mystically from under his bowed hood. “Nothing will stop that name from being brought to the discernible light, for it was attributed to you many years before you were born. The legends spoke of you. You, along with all the other Bearers, were spoken of long before the world--nay, the universe--began.”

“Other bearers?” Twilight asked, craning her head around the furious Freedom Fighter. “What do you mean?”

“State your business, creature,” Celestia snarled at him, stepping down from the dais from where she was and bowing her head so her horn was level with the creature’s chest. “Or we will cast you out like a fiend.” Sparkles of energy surrounded the tip of her horn.

The creature took his hand out of his cloak and stretched it imploringly to Princess Celestia. “Lightbringer,” he intoned to Princess Celestia. “The time is now.”

Princess Celestia froze. She stood up when he finished speaking. “How...how did you know that name?”

“The power of Faust compels me, Lightbringer. Your name was written in the stars, as you well know. As was the names of the Ten Souls and their companions.”

As the strange creature spoke the last sentence, he raised his voice, and his mild and calm tone changed to a deep, mystical voice that emanated from the vaults of heaven. His outstretched warty hand clenched, and the light in the room darkened until it became the color of dusk, making ponies whisper and cling to each other in terror.

“Once more must the Bearers take upon themselves the mantle of protectors, as the Earth prepares, even now, to tear the ground asunder, and melt the ground with fervent heat,” the creature intoned, and he seemed to be possessed by something much larger than himself. “The king of Tartarus does not wait for much longer, and in less than six month’s time, the Pale Rider will march his armies forth to conquer all that breathes and gives life. The sun shall be blackened; the moon shall become as crimson blood; and the stars of heaven shall become dim under the conquering smoke of the Fallen Race as they march forth. The Pale Rider shall spare none, the spilled blood of ponies shall mingle with the dusty remains of the Fallen Race, and should the Ten Souls fail in their quest, the universe shall bow to the whims of the king of Tartarus.”

The instant he finished speaking, he unclenched his fist, the light returned to the room, and the creature had dropped out of his deep and powerful voice. “Hasten, then, and obey, Princess Celestia. Whether by my own voice or by the voice of Faust, it is the same.”

“Sister!” Princess Luna whispered to Celestia urgently. “ ‘Tis the Prophet!”

“The Prophet?” Celestia gasped. “But...but...You!”

The Prophet took both of his hands and lifted his hood, revealing the face of a kindly gargoyle with two white horns, wreathed in a brown, bushy mane. Sweeping aside his wide cloak to reveal his brown underside, he looked a stunned Celestia in the face. “I have been sent to warn and to prepare,” the Prophet said. “I am Scorpan, the brother of Lord Tirek. The time prophesied by Faust has come at last.”