I have been told that, at one point, there was color in this world. That the borders of our populace were not marked with deep trenches and walls of fog. That all races lived together, in harmony.

This is the fault of Him. He was the one who changed our lands.

But... He vanished. A thousand years into this limbo, when the sun and the moon vanished from the sky. That was when the last of the rebels vanished as well, eight ponies who had stood against him.

I will challenge the Eight to their honor, find Him and face Him. He will fall, and the world will become pristine again.

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** This story was written when I was 15, and the quality and content reflect that. Please be aware that my position on topics contained within may have changed in the time between publishing and now, and I apologize for any offensive material that I may have condoned in my younger years. **