Mute awoke in a void.

He lay prone on the ground and a chill ran through his body as his senses returned to him. Mute lifted his head and looked around. Her peaceful room was gone. He felt bile at the back of his throat as he remembered the shade had straddled him and he coughed in disgust as black viscous fluid flew from his lips. Though the act made him groan in pain. It was with a fearful expression he realized the extent of his injuries.

His left eye was closed shut by dry blood and filth. The chitin on his chest and back was cracked and chipped, digging into the muscle underneath. A searing hot pain shot through his body as he tried to move his right front leg and he let out a pained wheeze. It was broken. Mute tried to stand and almost immediately collapsed. His mouth tasted of blood and his lower lip stung. He moaned in pain and slowly looked around his surroundings.

He could not see anything. There was just darkness. Not even his faint connection to the Ember allowed him to peer through the void.

“So… He has chosen you. You’re the apprentice.”

Mute’s ears splayed out and his eyes widened in panic. The voice was deep and bassy, reverberating through Mute’s body with such power it moved the chitin pieces embedded in his muscles. The pain sent him reeling and gasping for air.

“I imagined you would be more… Impressive, young one. For the Zaivuria to choose you I imagined a powerful ally, not a broken child.”

Mute desperately twisted his head back and forth trying to see where the voice was coming from. It echoed around him in all directions and he couldn’t pinpoint its location. Ignoring the pain Mute got up and held his broken leg against his chest. He tried to control his breathing and briskly walked forward.

“Where are you going? You do not believe there is an escape, do you? You see I very much wanted to speak with you, Tibia. Or should I refer to you by your slave name, Mute?”

Mute growled and scribbled a quiran rune onto the floor. But no glow followed his writing and it created no light to dispel the infine darkness. Mute swallowed thickly and drew the rune time and time again. Each time he grew more desperate and his breathing grew erratic. His heart beat faster and faster.

“You need spells of a much higher caliber to cast light onto my darkness, Tibia. I am a bit disappointed this is all you know, but then again what can I expect from a mere toy? There is only so much Zarathon can teach damaged goods after all.”

Mute drew the rune a final time before he growled in rage and swiped at the darkness with his working leg. But he hit nothing but air. He couldn’t fathom how this thing knew his old name. He did not want it to know his old name.

“I do apologize for my son’s rough treatment of you and your fellows. I instructed him to just bring you to me, but he couldn’t help himself when he saw your allies. Yeveltar was always overzealous with bringing fresh meat to the nest. But it is good he created such chaos. I needed you to be separated from your master. Zarathon would not have allowed me to say what needed to be said,” the voice said.

Mute’s ears fell and he froze. He stared ahead wide-eyed into the darkness with an expression of true terror. The voice had called the elder shade his son. Mute took a step back and tried to control his breathing. He could feel tears gather at the corner of his eyes as something slithered past his leg.

“Oh, how long has it been since I felt true terror? You spoil me.”

Mute heard horrible fleshy squelching and something moved around him in the darkness. He looked around more and more panicked before it suddenly grew silent. Mute let out shaky breaths as a massive eyelid slid open before him. It revealed a grotesque red eye attached to a black oily mass. Tentacles grew from its sides and they slowly reached out to cup Mute’s chin.

“Tell me, do you know my name?”

Mute just stared at it with his mouth agape in fear. He tried to force his legs to move but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He did not know what to do. But he did know the creature’s name, and he knew its power. The elder shade that had attacked Ponyville and the elder shade in the sewers were nothing in comparison to the revolting mass.

The tentacle let go of his chin and the eye glared at him. “I suppose I might as well squeeze blood from a stone. I am Daugoz. And I know you well, Tibia.”

Mute growled and struck at the eye, but his hoof was stopped mid-air by an invisible force before it even came close to hitting it. Daugoz scoffed in amusement and flicked one of his tentacles. The black limb hit Mute’s head like a whip and threw him back with a scream of anguish. He landed on his side and he held his face as blood poured from a new crack in his chitin.

Daugoz ‘tsked’ at him and wrapped a tentacle around Mute’s neck. The monster picked him up and looked at him with sadistic joy. “I should curse you for even daring to strike me, but I suppose you’re already cursed.”

Mute chocked against the tentacle's grasp and he tried to shake away the creature’s words. He couldn’t listen to its lies. He wouldn’t betray Zarathon.

“Oh? You didn’t know? There is a curse placed on you. Don’t you wonder why those old wounds never heal? Has Zarathon not told you about this? Perhaps he feels too ashamed to tell you, seeing as it is his handiwork. Or perhaps he simply doesn’t want to tell you. After all, he could remove the curse and heal you, but he hasn’t. It would be an inconvenience to lose his most loyal follower. I’m afraid he is never going to heal you, Tibia.”

Mute growled and lashed out against the eye only to cough as the tentacle choked him. Yet he struggled and spat against the creature all the same. He knew the monster was lying! Zarathon would have told him if he was cursed! It knew nothing about what Zarathon wanted. His friend had promised he would heal him. Zarathon had told him there was a way to undo the injuries, but it was not something to be taken lightly.

“You think I am lying? He has manipulated you so well you do not even care he is using you. It brings me such joy to see another master at work. It is just too bad that Zarathon is no longer a worthy opponent. He clings to that vessel with far more ferocity than any of my children cling to their hosts. It is a miracle he has lasted for as long as he has.”

Mute pulled on the tentacle around his neck and struggled to breathe. He kicked his legs and coughed, his vision growing darker. He had to punish the monster for its lies! Yet no matter how much he struggled against the tentacle it wouldn’t let go.

“Perhaps a change of scenery would make you more agreeable? I know just where to take you.”

Daugoz’s eye looked at Mute in mirth before letting him go. As Mute hit the floor with a pained cry the world around him twisted and changed. The void gave way to hardened green secretion and black stone. The room expanded and twisted into a great hall with several tunnels in its walls and a large black throne in its center. Mute’s eyes widened and he quickly got up only for something to hit his horn. He felt the trinary structure crack and blood splatter across his head. Mute fell onto his side with a pained wheeze and he shook in fear. He knew where he was. He knew when he was.

Mute looked up at Queen Chrysalis wielding a familiar green crystal, the Seamstress’ needle. The artifact sent sparks of magical energy into the air as Chrysalis held it in one hoof while a Praetorian stood beside Mute with a hammer.

Then Chrysalis spoke. “It is interesting this memory. It is always so close in your mind, something you’re always ready to grasp.”

The shrill voice of Queen Chrysalis speaking with the cadence of Daugoz made Mute gag and he tried to crawl away.

“But we aren’t even at the best part yet!” the fake Chrysalis laughed and held out the Seamstress’ needle.

Mute closed his eyes. Yet he could not prevent the memory from playing out. He opened his elytra and flew, only for a wave of heat to hit his back. His wings burned and the flesh underneath the elytra screamed at him in agony. Mute crashed onto the floor and cried as a Praetorian pried his mouth open.

Chrysalis rolled her eyes and yawned. “Enough.”

The memory faded away and the void returned together with Daugoz's true form. Mute shook and hid his face from the giant eye. He tried to think of every technique Zarathon had taught him to reinforce his mind, but nothing came to him.

The eye looked at him like it was giving him a mocking smile. “You seemed so happy before when I showed you another of your kind. Would you like to see Princess Lampyridae again?”

Mute hissed in anger and turned to face Daugoz. He glared at it and tensed his muscles. He wouldn’t die without a fight. He would not let this thing sully his beloved’s memory with its illusions and lies.

“I have no wish to kill you, Tibia. I only wish to tell you the truth. You believe you’re following a good king, a king that will save the world. Yet I can not think of anyone more manipulative and conniving than Zarathon Holtam. He knows what ails you and he has the means to cure it. Yet he is keeping it from you. He does not wish to heal you, because then he would lose his most willing slave. And if you fulfill his wish and travel west you will be cast aside once he finds his descendants. You’re a convenient tool for him, nothing more, nothing less. Your kind has always been a tool for the quirans. Zarathon enslaved your ancestors just as willingly as he enslaved thousands of others. You made for such good spies and scouts he couldn’t let you go. And despite that, he called you noble and venerable.”

Mute looked at the creature in uncertainty. What did it want?

“Ask him if he wants to heal you. Ask him if he wants to use the one means he has to cure you. Ask Zarathon if he could have removed your scars and wounds the moment you met him. Ask him if he enslaved your race and if it's his fault you’re cursed. Watch as he lies despite being a creature of supposed truth. Despite all of Zarathon’s speeches about my kind’s evil, we are not beings of lies and deceit. We are beings of truth as well. We pursue a singular truth, that of the eternal night. We do not wish to destroy this world, Tibia, we only wish to save it from its corruption. Light did not come first. Nor was darkness an anomaly in need of destruction. We accepted the moon because its gentle light does not hurt us, but the sun… The accursed sun hates us.”

Mute shook his head and growled. He wouldn’t listen to a word the being said. He couldn’t listen to it. Zarathon had warned him about how good they were at lying. He turned away from the eye and began to limp away.

“You may destroy the nest in Manehattan, Tibia, but we’ve already reached the other continents. You cannot stop the reckoning that is coming. But you could perhaps survive it. I offer you my friendship and a fraction of my power. I could heal you right now. If you swear allegiance to me I could even bring Lampyridae back.”

Mute froze mid-step and slowly looked over his shoulder. His heart drummed like it was going to war and memories flooded his mind with visions of her smile and laughter. The Lord of Shades claimed he could resurrect his beloved.

“I am not lying. I would allow you both to live in this world once it is made perfect. Once the sun’s light has been driven away and the night is all that remains you could finally have a family. Your proud race would rule in the shadows alongside me and my children.”

Mute tore his head away from Daugoz and kept walking. She was dead. She was gone. The seductive whispers of the shades could not be trusted.

“When you see the truth, Mute, I will welcome you with open arms. Just think about it. All you ever dreamed of could be returned to you. All you have to do is question Zarathon’s purpose and friendship. He is as crafty as me and twice as willing to break an oath. Do not trust him, for it will be the death of you.”

Mute kept walking until the void gave way to a low brick ceiling, oil-slick floors, and small wriggling shades moving across the ground. The room was a large cross-section among the tunnels and rivers, and the shades had turned into the most giant nest Mute had ever seen. Dozen upon dozens of cocoons were spread out across the room and pony-shaped shadows moved around like ants to reinforce their disgusting “home”.

Mute stared at the nest and his face twisted into a hateful snarl. He drew a quiran rune into the ground and stomped his working hoof onto it. A plume of fire shot out around him and hit shades and cocoons alike. Terrible shrieks filled the air and one of the pony-like shades threw itself at Mute. Mute tried to dodge but it sanks its teeth into his broken leg. Mute fell onto his back and screamed as the shade bit down hard.

That was when a familiar voice cried out from one of the tunnels

“Mute! We’re coming!”

Mute looked up just as Holy Vow flew into the room. The pegasus landed onto the shade attacking him with a cry and repeatedly stomped on its head until it split open. Holy was caked in filth and soot, his golden armor torn, and blood streaked down the pegasus’ face. But he was alive, and he held Zarathon in his hoof and used him as a bludgeon against the shade’s head.

“Mute the pegasus had gone crazy! Help me!”

Mute tore Zarathon from Holy’s grasp and sighed in relief as the familiar feeling of the Ember’s warmth flowed through his veins. The illusion of her and Daugoz’s words seemed to fade from his mind. Relief, finally.

“Let us kill these damn things and leave!” Holy spat and stomped once more onto the shade’s head. “Celestia dammit, they killed every last officer! They’re all dead!”

Mute nodded grimly and held up Zarathon above his head.

“Your hiding place was poor, monsters,” Zarathon growled.

The burning pebble lit up like a red star and Mute shielded his eyes. Holy hid under his wings as a great flash of fire rolled out over the room and shades fled down the tunnels as every last piece of corrupted stone was purged. The fire continued down the tunnels until the shrieking stopped. Zarathon’s flames flickered to a low blue flame and he sighed in exhaustion.

“Are you alright, Mute? Where is the elder shade?”

Holy nodded at that. “We’re not leaving that thing alive.“

Mute shrugged tiredly and held up his broken leg. He had no interest in pursuing the elder shade. He had no energy left.

“We need to get you to a doctor. Private Vow help him walk and I’ll keep the shades away from us as long as I can. I must confess it took a lot of power to purge the nest…”

Holy growled in annoyance but nodded and wrapped Mute’s good leg around his shoulder. “Let’s go.”

Their journey back to the sewer entrance took a scarce five minutes. Mute wondered how they could have missed the nest before that point, but then he remembered Zarathon’s words. The shades had been powerful enough to bend the very space around their nest. Zarathon had not understood how they had gained the power to do so, but Mute knew. His expression grew grim as they ascended the ladder and crawled out of the sewers.

They were covered in filth and blood, and they stank of death. A few of the combat mages backed up in disgust while the medical team rushed to them. Hard Case quickly joined them.

“Where are the others? Did you burn the nest? A plume of fire erupted from the entrance and sent the lid flying! It reached high enough to be visible from the other side of the city! What happened down there!?”

“There were no survivors, detective… There was an elder shade that waited for us. It killed the officers, took Mute to their nest, and then vanished. We barely got Mute out of there. But the nest is destroyed.”

Hard Case looked at them in disbelief before she bowed her head with a sigh. "Celestia damn it all… We must keep the sewers locked down tight. We can't let more ponies die. I will ask the chief to prolong the nightly curfew as well."

“Please do, detective. And I am sorry for your loss. I take full responsibility for the death of the officers. I was unable to sense the danger I put them in…” Zarathon mumbled.

Hard Case eyed Zarathon tiredly. “They knew it would be dangerous. But I assured them they would be safe if they stuck by you and your changeling. I guess I was wrong…”

The red unicorn mare walked up to one of the combat mages and had a hushed conversation with him. Her words were solemn yet commanding and the mage saluted and hurried away from the scene to fetch more officers.

The medical team led Holy and Mute to the medical tent and they were forced to sit down. Holy’s wounds were minor and the biggest issue he faced was possible infections or diseases. Mute however was a different story. The medical team sprayed the filth off him with water and began to realign his broken leg the best they could. Though when it came to Mute’s chitin they seemed at a loss.

“There are shards of chitin in the cracks and holes. Remove those and place a patch over the wound. Mute will heal over time,” Zarathon said behind Mute’s horn.

The healers did as instructed and Mute hissed as they removed the pieces of chitin. Though as they did so Mute’s mind wandered and he mimicked writing.

Holy noticed it and nodded to one of the combat mages. "He needs paper."

One of the mages quickly gave Mute a pen and clipboard. The changeling quickly scribbled down a few words and held it up for Zarathon to read.

Zarathon growled as he read the page. "You're lying."

Mute picked up his friend and glared at him.

"He cannot be here. He is confined to the Blackpit. He cannot leave it."

Mute looked away with a snarl and mumbled under his breath. He put Zarathon down next to him and continued to write. 'Do you want to heal me Zarathon? Do you know what ails me? You did not tell me that I am cursed. Did you know?'

"I… I knew it was a magical malady. But does it truly matter if it is magical or not? I've told you I'll find a way to heal you. I truly want to cure you. You just have to be patient and—"

Mute hissed and wrote again. ‘You knew I was cursed and you didn’t tell me. Why?’

Zarathon’s flames shrank. “Please Mute you need to have your wounds looked over. The shade injured you greatly. We can discuss this later…”

‘How did you know?’

Zarathon let out a shaky breath. “I knew what ailed you from the moment I bonded you with the Ember. I know what curse had befallen you because I created it long ago.”

Mute’s eyes widened and he shot up with a snarl. He glared down at Zarathon before he looked away and wrote another question. ‘You knew this curse, and yet you didn’t tell me? Could you have dispelled these curses the moment we met? Did you always have the means to cure me?’

“We went over this when we visited Miss Fluttershy. I can heal you but only when you’re ready—”

Mute cut him off with a hiss and wrote faster. ‘And will that be when I am a noble? When you finally have access to the upper echelons of Pony society. Or will it be after I am made a proper noble with legislative power? Or will it be after I return you to your people when you’ll no longer need me? Am I a slave to you like my ancestors before me? And that is another lie! You told me you saved my ancestors and worked with them. You never told me we were just more slaves for your cause.’

“Mute, I…”

Mute wrote each word with angry tears rolling down his cheeks. ‘I’ve waited three years and I have only heard lies or excuses as to why you can’t heal me. And now I am told you’re the reason why I can’t heal in the first place? Because of you, I can't fly. Because of you, I can't shapeshift. Because of you, I cannot speak. You enslaved my kind in the past and I am supposed to believe you see me as your equal?’

The medical personnel withdrew from Mute and readied one of the hospital carriages. They instructed Mute to join them and Mute paid them no mind, his blue eyes transfixed on Zarathon.

Holy eyed the both of them with uncertainty. “Mute please rest. Let the doctors check up on you at the hospital. We can have this conversation when you’re out of harm's way.”

Zarathon’s flames flickered in annoyance. “Mute, I don’t know why Daugoz told you this, but he did not do it out of the kindness of his heart. I will admit I did not dare to tell you about the curse because I was ashamed. I knew I was responsible for its creation and seeing what it had done to you I… I couldn’t bring myself to tell you. But I have very good reasons for not healing you! It will hurt you, Mute.”

‘I don’t care if it hurts me! I am in pain every. single. day. You say Daugoz can’t be trusted and that he will lie, yet today he was the only one who told me the truth. You do not want to heal me.’

Mute left the piece of burning bone on the ground and he walked to the hospital carriage. He had been hurting for three years. He did not care if the healing process was painful. Zarathon knew he did not care if it was painful. As much as Mute hated to admit it, the shade had been right, Zarathon did not want to heal him. And that made his chest hurt so badly he struggled to breathe.

Holy Vow picked up Zarathon and he watched as low blue flames sparkled of him. He looked at Mute limping onto the hospital carriage before he sighed. “Can you heal him?”

“I can.”

Holy scowled down at him. “Then why haven’t you?”

“Because he is not ready. Only once I am certain he is ready and I know there is no other way, then, and only then, will I heal him. But please understand, Private Vow, the pain Mute is feeling would only grow stronger if I healed him now. He is not ready yet.”

Holy mumbled and cursed under his breath before he stuffed Zarathon into his armor. “You better not be using him. He deserves far better than that.”

“I agree, private. He deserves far better than me, but I am all he’s got.”

“Wrong. He has me and the others in the barracks now. And you got on well enough with Miss Sparkle and Miss Fluttershy. You are not his only friend, Zarathon,” Holy said.

Zarathon’s flames regained their yellow color and he chuckled sadly. “I suppose you’re right. He has more friends than before. I can only hope it will be enough.”

Holy walked up to the hospital carriage. “Enough for what, Zarathon?”

“For him to be ready.”

Holy let out another scoff and got onto the carriage.

The next chapter is another Quirani storybook chapter. Afterward, we're getting back to befriending the Mane 6 and Ponyville stuff. I am also going to write a few more flashback chapters. But we are moving along at a good pace. I hope you enjoyed this arc.