Anon the Lich 2 Finale

You are Anonymous the Lich, Lichlord of a thousand planes once, and a wizard so powerful gods have bowed to your will. You have annihilated Molestia, you have defeated yourself in a massive Xanatos Gambit, and are friends with almost the entirety of Ponyville.

You spent the entirety of today struggling to undo the damage you have done, in an effort to preserve your friends livelihood. Now, with your work done, it’s time to sit back, relax, and watch a Pinkie Pie party unfold before you.

You don’t need to eat or drink, and gain no real pleasure from it, but you are holding on to a small cup of punch anyways. A party hat sits upon your freshly-bleached skull, the dim emerald fires burning in your eyesockets more closely resembling embers.

“Good evening, Mjolna. You look splendid this afternoon.” You compliment, making small talk. “It’s good to see you again, Miss Mayor. How are things in the office?”

You’ve never been a socialite before, and you loathed to change that now, however you needed to ensure everything went perfectly. So far, Twilight had already delivered the books to Zecora, well before nightfall. Pinkie Pie was throwing a massive party, getting most everyone’s attention. Best yet, Derpy had time to deliver the notice to the Mayor, warning of the dangers of the forest recently.

For the most part, the rest of your failsafe’s had been taken care of by some careful greasing of palms. Ensuring a parade was funded far more than it should be, and a trolley being forced to run late, delaying some inflammatory material, until such a time that it would hardly matter.

And there was the person you wanted to see.

Applejack walks in, smiling broadly. She still remembers the scene with you in Derpy’s uniform. Damn thing was way too small, and you were unlikely to live it down wearing something that ridiculous.

“Greetings, Applejack. I trust all is well?” you ask.

“Yep, just finished puttin’ some apples in mah new Apple Cellar.”

You nod in appreciation, “Where would little Applebloom be?”

“Oh, she was with her friends, last I checked. They should be here shortly-like.”

Disconcerting. You wish her a good-evening, and return to waiting. So long as Applebloom arrived, all would be-

“Applejack! Applejack! Applebloom’s gone missing!” cries Scootaloo as she rockets into the party on her scooter. Your non-existent heart seizes. You need to look into getting a better, more secure Phylactory. You were not enjoying these newfound emotions that kept sneaking into you.

“Scootaloo, calm down.” You order, authority in your voice, “Where did you last see her?”

“We were walking to the party, when she said for us to go on ahead.” Explains the Pegasus filly, “When we looked back, she was running off into the Everfree all alone!”

You don’t bother wait for anything else. Despite your efforts, despite everything you’ve done, everything you’ve worked for, even now, you cannot stop yourself.

Damn this planet to the torch if you’ll allow yourself to be beaten that easily.

The Ponies begin to panic, but as Applejack and the six prepare to run off, you are swallowed by a flash of green fire, you glass falling to the floor, shattering, sending untouched punch all over the carpet.


With a flash of emerald flames, you appear on the edge of the Everfree. You have failed in stopping the events that would lead to Appleblooms death. If you do nothing, Applejack will be met with depression, and eventually will succumb to shame and self-doubt. She would become a shell of her former self, a walking example of futility.

This, you cannot allow.

Deep in the Everfree, lies a trap. One you had set a year earlier, and prepared to kill Applebloom in such a fashion that it would break Applejack. Now, you must stop Applebloom from reaching it, or, if worst comes to worst, ensure she can escape. You take chase into the forest, your eye sockets blazing with power now. They burn with an intense fervor, your single objective more important to you than anything else in this world. You Will save Applebloom, there is no other option.

You can hear the baying of the Timber Wolves, the roars of the Manticore, the rampaging wild-life deep within. You weave through the path, the low light of the setting sun not piercing the thick leaves in the trees all around you. It hardly matters, you see best without light anyways.

The pulse of life within the forest guides you. You can ‘see’ the Timberwolves stalking you as you run, but you have no time to play with them. Ever sense the first encounter, they have always given you a wide berth, understanding how foolhardy it would be to attack.

They sense your desperation however, and they want revenge. You would normally indulge them, relishing the extinguishing of a life of a lesser beast as it struggles fruitlessly against death, but you have no time. You’re busy trying to make sure another can continue the futile struggle.

One of them gets the courage to attack, and with a snarl dives from the thickets at you. In a single motion, you conjure your staff, a blast of green flame melting away to reveal the metal pole. A blade of black shadows forms along the top, stretching down to create a scythe.

Spinning, you catch the Timber Wolf in its rear, its bark offering no resistance to the void-blade, and cut it in half. Still running, your stride hardly broken, you release a salvo of fireballs at the opposite side, claiming a large swath of trees. Now was no time for precise application of power, now was the time to level everything in your path.

You dodge over logs and planks, levitating over a gap as a Wolf dives for you. It yelps and flails as it falls into the marshy waters below, but you take no delight in its cries. Spinning, you call upon the arcane powers at your command and draw a wall of shimmering light between you and your pursuers.

If the horrified screams further in were any indication, you were close. Applebloom was nearby, and she had already sprung the trap. You hoped to whoever was listening that you would be able to save her in time.


The pitch-black night cannot obscure your vision, but the distance between Applebloom and yourself is too great for you to meet. For a moment, you recognize the feeling of struggling futilely against the inevitable. This must be what it is like to oppose you. Impressive, the only thing keeping you from open awe at your majesty is the severity of the situation. You still have a filly to save, and if you have to burn your way through a colony of the undead, so be it.

The twists and bends in the road only serve to infuriate you further, as you can hear panicked screams and begging, the voice unmistakably Applebloom. You’ve had enough of these delays; you’ve had enough of these set-backs. You will not fail, it is not in your nature to be defeated. You can see the clearing ahead, your sight letting you see the true way of things. It is a decrepit village, haunted by the ghouls of fearful peasants.

You howl in the Black language, calling out to the fiends of this lost hamlet. Your word, unspeakable by the living and unbearable by those with a pulse causes the demons pause, and you finally spot Applebloom as you enter the main yard. The beasts are closing all around the little filly, and she is crying from fear. She turns to you, and for a second, she has hope.

Until she realizes with horrific clarity that you look little different from the nightmares that hound her.


“Applebloo-“ you try to call, but she begins to back away, and towards the monsters that threaten to devour her. It takes all you can to simply run up to her and try grab her. You do not, however, knowing this would only drive her towards the creatures.

Your recent distrust among the community was biting you in the ass. Fickle ponies, their loyalties were ever-so-easy to destroy, it seemed.

“Applebloom, I know you don’t think you can trust me, but I need you to listen to me.” You coax, and she yelps as she begins to back away from the encroaching ghouls, “These things, they don’t care that you have family back home. They don’t care that you’re innocent. Applebloom, I need you to trust me.”

”But, how can I!” she screams, hysteria on her voice, before devolving into panicked mumblings to Celestia for salvation.

“Applebloom, you were the first one to try and befriend me.” You explain, calmly and carefully, measuring each second you had, “You saw past my exterior, you tried to see who I was. I have never done anything to harm you, Applebloom, I need you to believe that I can be trusted.”

It was precarious. She was delirious with fright and terror, her mind was not about her, but she turned, bloodshot eyes filled with tears, and looked into your own, empty eye sockets. To most, they were cold, emotionless voids, but when she looks into them, you can see a spark of realization.

“Applebloom! Move!” you yell, and extend your hand. She dives to the side, and a surge of arcane energy obliterates a ghoul that was prepared to fall upon the filly. You race to her side, and she cowers next to your leg. “Stay near me, Applebloom. I will not let them touch you.”

The undead advance, and you can’t help but chuckle at the dark irony of being put in a situation so familiar to you, only from the other end.

“Come to me, ghouls.” You say, and chuckle deeper, “I shall bend your bodies to my will.”

Arcane runes begin to flash through the air, the frightened filly wrapped around your leg coming aloft as you levitate above the ground. Pentagrams etch their way into the soil as the horde rises. It was not in your nature to nurture emotions, but right now, you felt a certain exhilleration.

“I’ve not had a proper fight in a while. Now, let this lesson begin in earnest.”



The village becomes a whirlwind of action. A ghoul leaps for Applebloom, and by extension, you, but a pentagram drawn in its path intercepts it, and with a screech it is engulfed in a crimson pulse of energy, chains lashing around it as it is dragged into another realm. You call upon a crimson spear of energy which slices forwards at the mass, but they are far more nimble that mere mindless zombies.

The runes about your feet glow, and the shadows rise to meet the demonic creatures, your hands alight with the Necropotent flames, oily smoke streaming from your form. You make a lashing motion, and one of the pentagrams moves, writhing from eldritch energies, as a great undead beast pulls its self from the writhing ground. It moans with an insatiable hunger, and grabs for a Ghoul, greedily stuffing it into its ribcage. The ghoul screams as its spirit becomes trapped, but the greedy monstrosity refuses to be satiated.

You prepare to cast another spell, but a Ghoul crashes into your chest. You twist aside, trying to ensure that Applebloom is protected, but ribs from your right side go flying. Applebloom shrieks, and clutches your leg tighter with all her strength. With a flick of the wrist and a snarl, you call a pillar of starlight from the sky that smashes into the ghoul, frying it to an ember.

You turn in time to see a Ghoul jumping for you, and raise your hand to stop it. Telekinetic spells slow it down, but your hand clamped around its neck is enough to halt it totally.

“I do not believe you have earned your individuality,” you sneer, as green flames lick at its chest cavity, the ghoul thrashing, “Nor your death.”

It writhes, before the red flames are swallowed by a smoldering green glow. You release the creature, and it charges at its once-allies, taking one of the creatures out of the fight for the time being.

Despite your actions, more and more of them continue to approach. You’re almost totally surrounded now, but this is hardly the end of this fight. Your staff glows with a black energy, and swinging it, a concussive blast knocks aside a small section of the ghouls. Leaving your minions to fight and die, the undead beast hungrily consuming the bound spirits of those trapped in this hamlet despite their ripping it apart, you abandon your position to try and escape with Applebloom.

The crying filly shivers in sheer terror, and you can’t blame her. You could easily fight your way out, but not only do you have to protect her, but you are unable to use any of your shadow spells, for fear of the effect it would have on her.

You conjure a blast of shimmering energy, a barrage of tiny lights tearing through the pursuing ghouls.



It is unusual. The undead surround you, in a situation you’d rarely expected to be in. You have only your arcane knowledge to protect yourself and Applebloom. But it isn’t enough. Your terrible powers are locked away, to keep from harming Applebloom.

“Applebloom, I am sorry.” You say, realizing that there was no way she would leave here alive, “I tried, and I failed, to get you out of here.”

She looks up from your leg, a weak smile on her face, “It’s okay Anon. I know you did. I.. I guess I really should listen to big sis more often, huh?”

You watch the encroaching horde. You could teleport out, spare yourself a week of immobility regenerating.

“I’ll stay here until we are forced to part, little one.” You whisper gently, “I will not abandon you.”

“I know, Anon.” she says, a small smile on her face, “I trust you.”


She… Trusts you.

She knows that you will do what you need to do to keep her safe. She knows you won’t lie to her. Something must be seriously wrong with your Phylactory, because the surge of emotion you feel is enough to wash all sense of self-preservation and logic from you.

“Hold on, Applebloom. Close your eyes, and what ever you do, no matter what you hear:” You look down at her, and she looks up at you, your eyes locked, “Do not open them.”

She slams her eyes shut. She won’t have to watch what is about to happen, something that would drive any po[spoiler][/spoiler]ny to insanity. With a terrible screech from beyond the grave, your shadow dives into the soil.

The ground shakes, the trees rustle and buck. The Ghouls are but a few feet away but it’s too late now, their window is closed. Creatures explode from the ground, soil flying wildly, skeletal ponies, animals of every sort, zombified and partially eaten predators clawing their way to the surface.

This battle was far from over, as you beckon to the depths, calling forth the undead of the Everfree to heed your command. Applebloom clutches onto your leg as a Ghoul slams your arm from your socket, with a shriek you call upon the darkness to provide a replacement, an ebony claw replacing your missing left arm.

The ghoul falls to pieces under the shadowy replacement, as your form begins to become less and less corporeal. You cradle Applebloom, her tear-stained eyes clamped shut, in a barrier of darkness, keeping her close to you like a mother with a babe.

The Undead of this Hamlet are nearly indestructible. You float through the air, fighting inch for inch, as your undead thralls hold them back in a terrible game of tug-of-war between the dead and the damned.

You are not willing to harm Applebloom by Shadowstepping away, the effect of having a leg in the Nether for the rest of her life, especially so early, would be doing a disservice to her. You would dislike her friendly, happy personality dissolving.

You cannot see any light in this forest, as it tries to smother you and your charge. Its evil is palpable, and it gnaws hungrily for little Applebloom. It did not count, however, on something standing between it, something which was beyond the scope of this tiny, cursed place.

Fires roar from around you, as you call out to the Fel powers. You call for Demons, and they answer in force. Great towering walls of primeval evil, the essence of chaos, pour forth, eager for combat. They are driven onwards by your own dark reputation, not knowing nor caring how handicapped you are with this small horse under your protection.

For fifteen minuets, the sounds of hell ring out around Applebloom, but on that fifteeth minuet, you find your exit. With a sweep of your staff, a blast of air knocks undead, damned and demons away. Sweeping over them, you finally are free of the lock of melee. With a swipe of your staff, you dispel your Undead, and flee the forest post-haste. The demons will die eventually, they cannot over-come these eternal vessels of hate. Destruction would be too kind to such souls.


“Applebloom.” You say, gently, “Applebloom. You can open your eyes now. You’re safe.”

Your shadowform has dissolved, you’re missing an arm, most of your ribs, and levitate along with only a single leg, no foot to be found. You cradle her in your free arm against what few ribs you have left.

“You’re safe now, Applebloom,” you say, as you can see her relaxing. You feel strange, with this small, child-horse under your care. You risked your neck for her, even though she’s not under your personal protection as the six others are. Sure, her survival is necessary to ensure Applejacks happiness, but there was something else here.

When it came to this township of ponyfolk, you felt more content to see them safe. Did this make you a good person? Not even close. You were evil to your core, you relished the pain and sorrows of others. What then were you? You were the Ancient Evil in Ponyvilles corner, you were the dark avatar of death who sought the peaceful existence of those in this town.

“It’s time for you to go home, little one.” You whisper, the forest quiet, “I believe we have had quite an adventure, hm?”

She nods lazily, tired, but too terrified from what had just happened to sleep at any point tonight, sadly.

“Anon…” She mumbles, “Will you watch over the farm tonight?”

It was a good thing you were undead, “Of course, Applebloom. I will keep you and your family safe. I promise.”