Elements of Disharmony 19

>Dawn.
>You rise from the throne you had been sitting in for the last two hours, and look out the massive arch behind your throne.
>The sun was rising, perfectly visable.
>You wondered if Celestia was watching right now as she set the sun to the sky.
>More importantly, you wondered if she would know about what happened last night.
>Perhaps the incident with your newest addition losing control.
>It was impossible for her to know about the pact, not even Discord could have seen through into the Nether.
>Your plan was coming together flawlessly.
>A few set-backs, a few clashes in personality.
>Survivor had quickly grown to appreciate you, as well as find common ground with Thief.
>Sorcerer and Sherman were steadfast allies, despite Sorcerer despising you.
>You yourself didn't find Shermanator to be all that annoying. He was preferable to the Thief, atleast.
>Speaking of, you cast a sharp glance at him as he tries to gently pilfer a priceless trinket of yours.
"I see you are awake and of sound body, though perhaps not mind."
>With a slight, nervous chuckle, he retracts his hand under your unforgiving glare, before sauntering off downstairs to the Ballroom.
>That thief's skills had better pay off, he was headache enough as is.
>You return your attention to the sun.
>How poetic, the Lich-Lord of Darkness, gazing up at the sun.
>The crash of Adamantine upon stone announces the Sorcerer, who you spare not a glance.
>He mumbles something, but you leave it be.
>He had to read the Muffin Mix eventually.
>The golden light slowly inches closer and closer to you, the shadows of your tower keeping it out for now.

>A loud yawn and the scratching of dirty hair mark Shermanators descent from the living area.
>"Hey Skeletor."
"Good morning, Anonymous."
>He stops, looking over at you.
>You casually turn back, giving him a sideways glance.
"Something the matter?"
>"Hm, no, I'm good. Just been a while since I heard my name is all."
>He starts to walk off, leaving you to gaze back at the dawn.
>"Do I smell eggs?"
>Survivor himself, the last one to wake up, asked with a sense of boredom.
"Possibly; I have lacked a sense of smell for several thousand years."
>"That's all he ever cooks..."
>Shaking his head, Survivor heads down as well, leaving you alone.
>The sunlight finally begins to reach you, yet your shadow refuses to give.
>A halo of darkness shrouds you, as you look directly into the early morning sun.
>You don't even remember what the sun felt like on your skin, it has been so long.
>You turn, leaving this destructive thinking be.
>You would get no closer to destroying Discord by lamenting the cost of power and immortality.
>You turn and leave the sunlight, heading down into your tower.
>The ballroom passes by, and you head further down the spiral staircase, entering the parlor where Survivor and Sherm were chatting.
>You walk into the small kitchen, as Thief heaps another helping of eggs onto the massive tower he has already cooked up.
>Sorcerer pulls down some muffin mix, and gives it a look over, before scratching his head.
>"I've never heard of 'Exploding Runes' flavor mu-"
>The fiery explosion is enough to send Thief's eggs across the kitchen, shattering the antique plate and covering both yourself and the Thousand Son in eggs.

>For a brief moment, all is still as the grave.
"Now, gentlemen-"
>Sorcerer trips over you, fists flying, as Thief piles in atop the Space Marine, clocking him upside the head with his inconsiderable strength.
>Dust flies and you're certain your head is now being used as a boxing glove to punch the Astartes.
>You shove two finger bones up Sorcerers nose to spite him, before biting Thief's hand.
>The shadows of the dogpile embrace you and you fall away, leaving those two to sort it out as you are reassembled in your large, leather chair.
>Survivor looks at you, smirking, while Sherm laughs at the chaos in the kitchen.
"I have business to attend to with an old friend, Shermanator. Keep these miscreants inline, and do not destroy my tower."
>Without looking over he gives a thumbs up.
>"Whatever you say. Hey, Thief, fix me up some sausage, would you!"
>He laughs at the strained reply of the thief, as the Sorcerer tries desperately to peel him off the reactor-back of his armor, but being unable to physically reach, save for his fingers which squished into Thief's face.
>You fade out of reality, heading to a remote, wartorn Equestria.
>One you had visited before, and should have finally found peace.
>You ruined any chance for peace yourself, however.
>You return to the world of AEther, stepping onto the putrid, blighted soil.
>An eternal twilight seems to reign, powerful dark magic darkening the sun up above.
>This place looked familiar.
>Once, it might have been Ponyville.
>Now, all that remained was a swampy, desolate and lifeless place.
>Except...
>Up in the distance, stood sweet apple acres, and you could see signs of life up there.

>Fortunate, atleast someone would be able to direct you to where you needed to go to find that annoying knight.
>Even in death, he was still-
>A massive kick to your spine sends you tumbling, your robes collecting in a heavy pile.
>You begin to rise as a hoof is placed on your back, pinning you before a wooden stake pierces through your ribcage.
>As the weight is lifted, you lie on the ground a moment longer.
"Was that supposed to accomplish anything?"
>You levitate back up, spinning, your eye-sockets alight with power.
>You pause, a very grown-up pony wearing a straw hat that barely covers her blazing, wild red hair.
>You pause, and regret it as you're slammed into the ground again.
"Applebloom, please, still-"
>You recieve a kick to the jaw, shattering it, for your effort.
>"Shut it, monster. Now tell me how ta kill you."
>It would seem that your dear little applebloom, all grown up, has not received your lessons on the importance of critical thinking.
"How can I tell you how to kill me, if I'm supposed to shut up?"
>She pauses, before rubbing her chin
>"Ah didn't think of that.."
"Well, first,"
>You gently push her off, sitting up.
"I am a Lich, thus, am impossible to kill permenantly."
>With a frown, she grunts furiously.
>"Then ah'll just pummel you until you don't get back up!"
>She reared back to bring her hooves down, but you raised a pleading hand.
"One moment, if you please."
>With a frustrated sigh, she sits down.
>"What do ya want Nooow?!"
>You look behind Applebloom, and point at the pony reclining mid-air behind her.
"We have company, and as much as I would love for you to annihilate me, etiquette dictates we dispatch with our guest first."

>The blue stallion laughs, long daggers of teeth flashing.
>"Eliminate? Me?! I don't know who you are, skeleton, but you will learn your place."
>Casting his eyes upon Applebloom, he smirked.
>"And you will make a most excellent lun-GAU!"
>You cut him off with a piercing ray of heat, incinerating his elbow.
"Vampires, always so cocky and proud. Hardly deserved for such an imperfect creature."
>As you speak, Applebloom flies forwards, crashing into the Vampire and knocking it to the ground.
>With a deftness you didn't expect, a stake is driven through it's chest, upon which it writhes and squirms.
>"And stay down."
>Spitting, Applebloom leaves the vampire where it lie, to be either rescued, or starve.
>Vampires rarely held anything in high enough regard to lend any altruistic aid, so the former was far more likely.
>You follow Applebloom as she begins to head back to the farm.
>You felt a pang of regret, a feeling of loss, looking at this devestation.
>After too long in silence, Applebloom points at a nearby tree.
>"Remember this here tree. It's got our trap door innit."
>Giving the tree a good buck, it rustled for a moment, before there was a click.
>Sure enough, under some leaves and swampy muck, lie a trapdoor.
>As Applebloom heads down, she looks over her shoulder at you.
>"Coming' or not?"
>With a shake of the head, you follow her in.
>It is surprisingly spacious inside, and clean to boot.
>Given the fetid state of the fields above, you half-expected it to be water-logged.
>The second thing you noticed, was a decidedly large number of ponies, most of then asleep, though two of them held pikes up, one against you, another against Applebloom.

>"What in the wide world of Cider is that thing?"
>"It's alright cuz', he's one of the good ones."
"Good ones?"
>Your Thrall was doing a poor job of he allowed sired skeletons to rebel.
>You would make sure this mistake was corrected.
>"Yes. 'Good ones', the undead under my own command."
>You turn and gaze upon, of all things, an upright, gaunt pony with a dark coat and a gray mane.
>Immediately you felt threatened, as only another Lich could.
>"Anonymous, I presume?"
>You give a slight bow.
"You have me at a disadvantage, sir..?"
>With a grin, he sweeps a hoof across his chest, and give a bow as well.
>"General Chronicler, commander of the Celestial Armies."
>Well fuck.