The look on Twilight's face when Celestia voiced Silver Twist's ultimate crime couldn't be accurately described in words. It was like the Princess had told her that the sun wasn't real, or that the world was actually flat, she looked shaken to her very foundations. I didn't need to guess why either. To Twilight, magic was life, it was pure and absolute. It was the primal force of vitality and beauty, and Silver Twist had taken it and used it to violate one of the most sacred laws of the natural world.

The classic way that most ponies think of the walking dead is what they seen in media and literature. Faceless, mindless corpses torn from their graves to walk the planet and extinguish life wherever they found it. An unsettling premise to be sure, which was why horror authors and screenwriters found it to be such a easy target. After all, most cultures had very different concepts of fear, but there was no culture in the world that didn't view the dead with some form of solemn respect.

If only the truth was so kind as fiction.

“H-... how...” Twilight's jawed worked helplessly as she tried to wrap her formidable mind around the concept of what Celestia claimed that Silver Twist was guilty of. I didn't blame her, she respected scholarly talent, and Silver was most certainly a genius. It wasn't that she didn't believe her teacher, it was that she didn't want to believe that a pony of that kind of intellect could fall so far.

“I'm sorry, Twilight, I had hoped that this would not come to pass but...” she took a contemplative sip of her tea before continuing. Twilight was waiting with bated breath, desperate for some kind of explanation. “First of all you both deserve the truth as to why I agreed to place Jasper here,” she must have seen the look of confusion that passed my face because even as the question formed in my mind she raised a hoof to forestall any words. “I know you requested the location, that only made it easier, but this was the place you were going to go no matter what, the reason twofold. If Silver Twist did make a move on you, you would have ready allies in the form of my student and her friends. Moreover, they are not simple ponies, you have been long absent from the world Jasper, Twilight and her friends, in the time you were incarcerated, were chosen and attuned to the Elements of Harmony.”

All the cogs clicked into place at Celestia's words. The Elements of Harmony were the most famous set of artifacts in all of Equestrian history, nopony grew up without hearing the old mares tale of the Mare in the Moon. I'd heard that the truth of the matter was that the Mare was actually Luna and the Elements of Harmony had purged her of the darkness that had corrupted her, but I had not idea that Twilight, little Twilight, had been in the epicenter of that. Of course it made sense, if danger came to Ponyville because of my presence, the Elements of Harmony could easily turn it aside, and if I became that danger then they would be in a position to do what Celestia had not.

“The Elements were your safety net,”I voiced the notion even as it formed in my mind. Celestia nodded somewhat guitily.

“I'm afraid so, I'm sorry Twilight, to have employed the Elements like this, but Silver Twist is a criminal who must be brought to justice.” If Twilight had felt betrayed by her mentor she deserved an award for her poker face because she just nodded solemnly.

“I understand Princess, he... I can't let somepony like that...” I could see the furious workings of her mind plainly on her face. Twilight was as far from a violent soul as a pony could get but I knew Silver Twist offended her down to her soul.

“I agree,” my voice interrupted Twilight's frustrated stammering, she nodded gratefully in my direction.

“Then we're in agreement, I-”

“Uhm, Princess, I'm sorry but... I need to know something,” I was a little astonished at how easily Twilight cut off her mentor and ruler. But then, anytime Twilight's mind kicked into research mode propriety usually got thrown to the wind.

Celestia smiled graciously, inviting her to continue, a part of me envied how Twilight was doted on by her teacher.

“... How? How does he do it? Every text I've ever read that mentions it, and there aren't many, say that it's should theoretically be possible but that nopony has ever done it. That all attempts have met with, sometimes catastrophic, failure.”

Celestia nodded, “In truth, even I have only a limited understanding,” Twilight's eyes widened at that, even I was surprised. I imagine that, like Twilight, I had simply assumed that there was no mystery of the arcane that our Princess didn't know. “Fortunately,” she continued somewhat grimly, “we happen to have an expert on our hooves.”

“W-what? Who?!” I admit, I was more than a little curious to hear who had unlocked secrets even the Princess wasn't privy to.

So you could probably imagine my surprise when she pointed to me.

“What?” the words sort of dumbly fell out of my mouth and I looked behind me, half expecting to find that somepony else had entered the Library while we were engrossed in our discussion. “W-wait... me?”

Celestia nodded gravely, “I'm afraid this will not be pleasant, Captain Shale, but I'm need to unlock certain sections of memory. The process will... force you to relive them. I'm sorry, it will most likely be unspeakable. I know that, somehow, Silver Twist used his mastery of mind magic to forcibly implant the arcane mnemonics needed to raise the dead into your mind, essentially force-feeding you the ability to cast a certain spell. That means you will intimately know how it works, and if possible, how to stop it.”

Twilight's face was ashen, “T-the Mnemonic Graft? That's illegal... almost all mind magic is proscribed magic but... the Graft was outlawed because of the sheer damage it could do... and he did that to Jasper?!”

I felt sick to my stomach, hearing what Twist had done to me, knowing what he put into my mind. I could feel the dull throb in my brain as the seal began actively repelling me from remembering. There was something else bothering me though, “Princess, I have to ask one thing, there are other unicorns who are a lot more powerful than me, I'm sure Twist was one of them, so why did he have to implant it?” It seemed pointless to me, for Twist to risk such a dangerous, not to mention illegal, procedure on a unicorn who was, magically speaking, far weaker than him.

Celestia looked thoughtful for a moment, “I can only conjecture at this point, so understand that nothing that I say is set in stone.” I nodded, eager for any answers at all that might explain. “You are a very rare breed of unicorn, not only capable of, but thriving on, channeling your magic via the earth. That's a very unusual affinity, and I believe that whatever magic that raises the dead would be closely tied to the earth. After all, no matter what means a culture takes to honor their dead, the remains always return to the earth one way or another. And since the Graft force-feeds a spell into your aura, it smooths the process if the spell in question is of a like affinity to the unicorn learning it. Based on that I would further conjecture that you are probably the only one who even could have survived the Graft.” Hearing her talk was like listening to a practiced lecturer, everything she said made sense and it was essentially just guesswork built upon yet more guesswork. I suppose that's probably what made her such a great teacher though. No wonder Twilight was so powerful, even on a subject Celestia professed to know next to nothing about, her she erudition makes up for it.

She broke through my wall of thought as I was digesting her words with a calm voice. “Before we go any further though, know that I cannot ask you to do this, Jasper, nor can I order you to, I have done too much to you already and my conscience will not stand for it... but we do need to know this information. All the same, if you do not want to risk the potential trauma to your psyche, I will understand, and I will think no less of you.”

“No!” we both turned at Twilight's exclamation, “No... Princess... he can't do this! That spell could... it could kill him. Or change him... do you think I don't know why it was proscribed!? Victims of the Graft suffered numerous mental disorders; neuroses, schizophrenia, even complete psychotic breaks, we can't do that do him.”

I won't lie, the notion of losing my mind chilled me to the bone, but Celestia placed a comforting hoof on her student.

“Jasper already underwent the process, Twilight, if there were damage of that nature then not even my suppression spell could stop it from surfacing. Your friend is stronger than you give him credit for, he emerged from the process, at least relatively speaking, undamaged. Still, I do not want to downplay the effect, using the Graft to implant even simple spells is extraordinarily painful, I can't even imagine how horrifying having a spell of such power and complexity as would be needed to raise the dead would be to have forced upon you. Make no mistake, if you allow me to unlock the memory, you will feel every moment of it.”

The almost-funereal tone to her voice left no room for me to imagine anything but horrors. Still, now I knew one thing: that the dead didn't just haunt me in dreams because of trauma. Celestia didn't say it but I knew that if that psychopath put the spell in my mind, then I had most likely used it at some point. Probably more than once, so maybe I deserved to relive that experience, now that I knew what I had done.

Mother forgive me, I nodded.

“I'll do it, Princess,” she gave me a look that carried a millennium of sympathy, sorrow, and gratitude as I spoke those words.

“Give me a moment to prepare the spell then, I'll be upstairs, Twilight, he'll have to use your bed, it will best if we can keep him as comfortable as possible while he processes the memory.”

“O-ok,” she sniffled a little, I knew she was fighting back tears, “sure, anything you need Princess.”

“Very well then, I'll call you up when I'm ready,” we both nodded, and she left us, I wondered how long it would take her to forgive herself for what she was about to do. Or if she ever would.

As soon as she was out of sight Twilight nearly collapsed to the floor. Whatever effort it had taken to stay stoic in front of her teacher had obviously abandoned her, I caught her as she dropped and we walked over to the easy-chairs we'd occupied only a few nights before. It felt like weeks had passed since then.

“Are you going to be ok?” I asked softly as I lowered her to the chair, she scoffed bitterly.

“Sure, I'll be fine, I'm not the one who...” small trickles of tears slipped out of her eyes, “please... don't do this Jasper... you've done enough, I can't... I already thought I lost you once I can't do that again.”

The open plea in her voice was like a physical weight but all I could do was shake my head.

“I'm sorry Twi', but I have to, even if it's a risk, I'm still a soldier and-”

“No! You're not! The war is OVER! It's been over for years! Why do you still have to do this?! Why do you still have to sacrifice everything?! It's not...” she took a deep breath, on the verge of hyperventilating before finally letting the air out and burying her muzzle in my shoulder, her waterworks staining my coat. “...It's not fair, I just found you again.” her words were muffled against my fur, I wrapped my foreleg around her and held her close while she wept. It was all I could do.

“You're wrong Twi', the war isn't over yet, not to Silver Twist, and while he's still fighting it, I have to fight him.”

She curled into me, her grip was so tight it almost hurt.

“I wish I could stop fighting, Twi', I really do, but that's what I am now. I'm a soldier and soldiers have to fight for something.” I stilled remembered the faces of each and every pony who died defending Bunker Bridge. The ones who died defending the poor folks who had nothing to do with the war. They gave their lives for a better world, not a world where some maniac can violate the laws of nature at a whim. “It's my duty to make you safe, to make all the ponies in Equestria safe, maybe that job will never be done, but I have to keep fighting.”

“So what?” she sobbed angrily into my coat, “does that mean you'll never stop fighting? It's not fair! You have to come back someday, you can't just...”

I stroked her mane as gently as I could, since I didn't have any words to refute her with.

“You can't just leave me alone to go die somewhere...” she whimpered.

Maybe that's all I deserve. I didn't say it out loud, but I felt it. Somewhere deep inside I knew I'd done terrible things. Even if I wasn't in my right mind, even if I had some psycho doctor playing puppet with my grey matter. The blood of the dead was still on my hooves, and I had to put that right.

One way or another.

Celestia's dulcet voice broke through the tense atmosphere of the library, “I'm ready to begin Jasper, we need to start now though, Doctor Twist will be making his next move soon I'm sure of it.”

“I'll be right up Princess,” I answered, my throat was raw and there was a bitter taste in my mouth, I needed to finish this though.

I broke away from Twilight, she wouldn't meet my eyes though, so I just tousled her mane one more time and turned to make my way up the stairs. She caught the lapels of my greatcoat as I passed her and without warning pulled me into a kiss that tasted like fire and rich wine, sweet and vibrant with an undertone of hunger, of need. Her lips were as soft as velvet, probably untouched by any other colt. If this was her first kiss I couldn't tell, it set off fireworks in my head. For a moment all I could sense was Twilight; her scent of lilacs and lavender, an undefinable sweetness clinging to her lips, the heat of her breath, in that moment my whole world disappeared.

Murderer

Time restarted again as our lips parted, Twilight wore the saddest smile I'd ever seen, a small upturn on her lips and reflection of tears unspent in her eyes.

“You...”

She pushed a hoof onto my mouth and shook her head, “No, don't ruin it, just go okay?”

I opened my mouth to tell her to stay away from me, to stop thinking about me, that I was no good for her, or any of a thousand other reasons for her to pick somepony, anypony else. I didn't though, I had the distinct impression she already knew what I was going to say anyway, so it didn't really matter. Instead I just nodded.

“I'll be waiting for you when you get back, okay?” her voice was soft, and heavy with concern and worry, but the tears were gone.

“You probably shouldn't be,” I answered back as I stepped up onto the staircase.

“Too bad, numbskull.”

“Pipsqueak.”

“Loser.”

The silence settled so entirely that I almost missed her next whispered words.

“...just come back, ok?”

“No worries there, half-pint.”

Twilight sniffed back the build-up in her throat, “So stop stalling then, my teacher's waiting, so go fight or whatever.”

“Yessir, Captain Twilight, sir” I sketched a mock salute and she giggled a little, it was a dry, sad laugh, but there was a spark of genuine humor in it. I had to fight, maybe for her, maybe for everypony who bled out on the cold concrete of Bunker Bridge. Whatever the case, I still had to fight.

I ascended the stairs and saw Celestia sitting ominously beside Twilight bed, the covers and pillows still haphazardly mussed about from its owner's apparently restless sleep.

“I'm ready, Princess.”

A grave look passed over Celestia's eyes. “Somehow I doubt that, Captain Shale, but regardless it must be done. Thank you again for your sacrifice.”

I gave her a silent nod. I wiped my hooves on a small mat and deposited my greatcoat on the nightstand before curling up on the still-warm sheets of the bed. Celestia rose and bowed her head, gently touching the tip of her alabaster horn to the crown of my head.

“Brace yourself Captain,” were the last words I heard before a flare of light and pain sent my consciousness hurtling into the dark.

The darkness was absolute, it was as if every single one of my senses had been silenced simultaneously. I saw nothing, felt nothing, heard nothing. There was no taste in my mouth and it felt as though my nose was clogged with gauze. The only sensation was a dull hum or vibration, I felt it in my bones and muscles. Slowly, however, a dull glow seemed to take up residence behind my eyes, there as like somewhere, and the hum became a pulsation, with measured drops and rises, I tried to open my mouth and pain shot through my body like someone had run a live wire through my jaw. A dull voice came through the fog of insensibility, but it sounded like it was far off.

“...nother failure, nurse, bring me another one, love.”

A feminine voice responded.

“But doctor, there are-” her words were cut off by the sounds of a hoof striking flesh, each answering word followed by another blow.

“BRING. ME. ANOTHER. SPECIMEN!”

“Y-yes sir.”

I forced my eyelids open with a monumental effort, the only light was some distance away. I could feel that I was lying on a gurney of some kind. I tried to move but thick straps kept me secured, I began to panic but the soldier part of my brain clamped down on that hard. There would be a time for fear later, right now I needed to know where I was. I mentally backtracked, trying to piece together why I had ended up here.

I remembered the fight to escape the deathtrap and join up with our reinforcements that were being held at bay at the tunnel entrance. I'd made the radical decision to break from our defensive position and launch a counter-offensive against the distracted Griffon forces. The plan was to catch our attackers between my own meager force from within and the relief troops from without, breaking their line of defense by forcing them to fight on two fronts. It was a suicide run, I knew, but were almost out of water and we'd been out of food for over a day in spite of rationing, there were just too many people. The commander of the reinforcements said breaking in might take as long as a week and I knew we didn't have that long. So rather than risk waiting, and in the process weakening ourselves from malnutrition and dehydration, I gave the order to break camp and charge the enemy while we still had our strength.

In spite of the near-fatal levels of danger such an action would impose on us not a single soldier disagreed. We were all sick and tired of fighting off wave after wave of Griffons. We were sick of losing our friends to attrition warfare. We wanted, or needed, to be able to fight back ourselves and now was the time to do that.

The rest became a jumble of blood-soaked yells and shouts, brutal tight-quarters fighting, but we made it. I couldn't recall what happened, I know we escaped the tunnels but...

My thoughts were interrupted by the clip-clop of hooves on cold concrete and a jerking movement told me that whoever it was moving the gurney.

“W-where... am I?” I croaked through dry lips. There was no answer as the dull light fixtures passed by over head, not a one of them stronger than a small candle. I tried to speak again by the rasp of my voice stole all meaning from the words. Finally the light became stronger, then too strong, I was wheeled underneath a harsh and scornful sun that forced to me to shut my eyes as tight as possible. It didn't help, the light leaked in through the thin membrane of my eyelids, the pain was piercing and maddening for all of its relative harmlessness.

“Ah, good, strong and healthy, a soldier?” It was the male voice, the 'doctor', up close I could hear the small nuances in it that made my spine tingle. It was high and aristocratic, a voice that held the polish of years of high society. It was on the wrong side of pleasant too, where the voice became unnerving. “Hand me his charts nurse, I want to see what I am dealing with... ah, excellent physicality, shows high quality of leadership; good, good, this means his will to live is strong, he will need that. And... Ah! Most excellent, an earth-type affinity, how rare, this specimen might be the most viable of all.”

“W-who...?” I finally managed through the pain.

“Hmm? Oh, it talks, wonderful. Nurse, attach the electrodes and prep an IV of Methohexitol, we do not want the specimen becoming agitated during the procedure.” His voice was so clinical and cold it made ice creep into my heart. Whoever it was didn't even seem to consider me as sentient, I was like a lab rat, no, more like an interesting microbe on a petri dish.

“O-of course Doctor Twist, 1% for induction?” the feminine voice asked as cold pads were affixed to parts of my head.

“Make it 1.3, love, he's a strong one.”

“Y-yes sir.”

Finally the speaker loomed over me, I opened my eyes in an effort to glimpse his features. What I saw was almost surprising, a rather handsome stallion with a light beige coat and a silver mane grown long and fashionably braided to remain out of his eyes; eyes that were the color of slate, dead and uncaring. A shiver ran up my back and settled in the back of my throat as a sick sensation. I realized that even my analogy to a microbe was wrong, the truth of the matter was that I might as well have been a cadaver.

I felt a dull pinch and throb of muted pain in my right arm, I turned in time to see a nurse with a white coat taping down the IV needle she'd just attached to me. Almost immediately I felt my senses beginning to dull, sleep gripped my eyelids like lead weights.

The last words I heard before the pain began were the mad doctor's:

“This is going to be so much fun...”