Reflections, memories, and all that kind of thing.

Deep within the Everfree Forest, Paradise muttered prayers in her sleep.

This was a strange sentence. First was the fact that ponies didn't really pray. The closest thing they had to a deity was a physical pony that you asked favour from rather than partake in the part meditation, part self reflection of prayer.

'My only escort is the river of time, my only possessions are my soul and my faith...'

Second was the fact that she was sleeping in the Everfree. Nopony slept in the Everfree, but it felt natural to the pony so foreign. Equestria and many of its neighbors felt stifled, with ponies unable to function without having their hoof controlling every aspect of their lives. Here, in the Everfree, the strict constraints were loosened, and Paradise could relax in peace.

'My only allegiance is to the divine, and my only intentions are to care.'

And she needed peace. The nightmares had started returning again.

The ominous woods had fallen eerily quiet.  The birds that lived in the forest had fallen strangely silent.  The only sound was the fall of hooves moving over withered, fallen leaves as he tread through the Everfree.  He stood taller than most, his pelt as black as a night sky without stars.  The dark unicorn’s eyes burned like a wildfire.  Today, he had ventured away from the castle - his castle.  Raging Inferno’s only deity was himself, his mission one of conquest and control.

The sound of a voice caught his attention, and he turned toward it, taking a few paces in its direction.  Not far away, a single pony slumbered, unaware.  She uttered a foreign tongue in her sleep, further inspiring the stallion’s curiosity.  A pretty mare like this one required further investigation.  Perhaps she would be equally fascinated and decide to join the dark brute.

Standing his full height, Inferno cleared his throat to rouse the earth pony from her sleep, a twisted smile plastered on his muzzle to greet her as he stepped closer to the lone mare. “Where are you from, lovely mare?”

When she was a filly, Paradise reacted violently if she was awoken. Over the years, she repressed this reaction so much so that the only reaction she now had was to open her eyes and look at the disturbance.

The fact that the disturbance was a rather large black and red unicorn should have inspired a greater reaction, but opening her eyes and looking at the newcomer was all she did for several moments.

'Far away, so far away,' she murmured, before slowly rising to her hooves, 'Peace be with you, friend. I am from the islands of Neighpon, and this forest reminds me of home.'

She could sense the wrongness that seemed to radiate from the unicorn. She had seen it before, but never this concentrated. Well, no. She had. Long ago. Far away.

She stuck to her faith then, and she would do so now.

'And how, how are you this evening, day?' she asked, standing up straight and addressing him as she would any other pony.

Inferno was silent as the forest surrounding the pair as he awaited a response from the mare, who seemed strangely unperturbed by his presence when she woke.  He was silently surprised that unlike most, this one did not quiver with terror at the sight of him.  She didn’t shrink away, as others did.  Her calm demeanor was a far cry from what Inferno was accustomed to.

For many reasons, the unnamed mare was appealing to the brutal male.  She was quite unusual - and perhaps, valuable to his cause.

“You are not from here, so perhaps you have not yet learned about the Everfree Forest and all the dreaded beasts that dwell here.” He paused for dramatic effect.  “You are not safe here in the woods,” he warned, expression serious.

The foreign pony inquired about how he was that day.  Rather than speak, Raging Inferno merely smiled, revealing a wide, disturbing grin - more frightening than friendly.  It was the best the dark fiend could muster.  “What is your name?”

Paradise returned the smile with one that was friendly with no threat whatsoever.

'I thank you for your concern, sir' she said, 'But I have found that most of the creatures in this place seem more frightening than they actually are. Ponies outside are the...opposite. More than they seem.'

This was true, she reflected, even beyond Equestria. Dangerous things often looked like non-dangerous things and vice versa, yet it was of utmost importance that one could tell which was which. This pony in front of her, for example. He looked dangerous, and unlike many things in this forest, he probably was dangerous.

And he had asked for her name. If one believed that giving ones name meant giving power over oneself, then Paradise was standing on fragile ground. But this was not what the mare was taught. Quite the opposite.

Look at that bird. What is it? Some call it a raven. Some call it a corvus. A corbeau. A kuzgan. A hankaka. A korakon. But even if you knew all the names from all the languages in the world, You would still not know what it is.

How, then, does one learn what it is? You wait. You watch. You see what it does. You see how it lives.

'Paradise Blossom,' she said, 'That is what they call me. And yourself?' She motioned to the forest around them. 'What brings you to this dreaded forest?'

The dark stallion listened with great interest as the stranger expressed how she was not frightened of the forest.  Very unwise, he thought internally.  But she is unquestionably brave.  It was admirable, really - there wasn’t a trace of panic or unease on the serene mare’s face.  So very different from what Inferno was accustomed to.

“I am called Raging Inferno.”  An eyebrow arched with great interest as he watched her expression after her offered his moniker.  Perhaps she had already heard of him.  Maybe word of his conquest and his infamy had spread throughout Equestria - at least, that is what Inferno hoped, what he longed for.  Ponies would respect him, fear him.

“The forest is far from dreaded, my dear.  On the contrary,” he spoke through an ever growing smile, “I find it rather lovely.  The wild beasts are of no concern to me.  It is my own backyard now.”  Again he paused, carefully considering his words.  He had already made up his maniacal mind: He wanted the odd mare to stay - with him. So much potential... “Perhaps you would be interested in seeing my home?  It is safe there, with all the food you care to consume.  My castle is not far from where we stand.”


((I'm really enjoying Paradise, what a fascinating character!  Question, would Inferno understand what her name means, or would it also sound foreign to him?))

(I type to please. I also think it'd be better if her name sounded foreign.)

'Raging Inferno,' she repeated, inscribing the name in her mind, 'It is nice to meet you.'

Sadly for Inferno, she had not heard about him. She had heard about some ponies disappearing, but nopony had really connected that with anything like what Raging Inferno might have hoped. It wasn't helped by the fact that Inferno's campaign had been rather overshadowed by the more direct plays for power by so many other power hungry beings.

What got Paradise was not Raging Inferno's name. It was his description of the Everfree as his 'backyard'. This, before anything else, made her uneasy. The ponies of Equestria...had this impulse to enforce their will over every aspect of existence. They even claimed their leaders held dominion over night and day! Such an assertion did not sit well with Paradise, which was why she felt at home in the Everfree. With this unicorn claiming this wonderful, chaotic place as his own...

She breathed out. 'Thank you for your generosity, kind Inferno,' she said, letting go of her misgivings, 'I am interested to see where you live. I will accept your invitation.'

As she started to walk, she then asked, 'Forgive my curiosity. Why do you live here, isolated from the towns, cities or farms?'

“The pleasure is all mine,” he stated, head dipping just barely in feigned politeness.  He didn't bother to repeat her name, since he hadn't understood it.  No matter.  Once more, the mare had no visible reaction to what he said, or how he said it - and if she had heard his name uttered fearfully, she didn’t indicate it.  Rather disappointing, Inferno thought, but there was still time for word of his endeavors to spread like wildfire through Equestria.

Only two types of ponies existed in the dark mind of the stallion: those who supported him, and those who resisted the revolution he provided, hoped to inspire in others.  When the foreigner accepted his invitation, agreeing to accompany him to his castle, Inferno gained confidence that the pretty creature, all alone in the woods, would consider being his next follower.

He began to lead back toward his home, constructed and abandoned long before his birth.  As he walked, he was careful to talk smaller steps.  He was considerably taller than the mare, and intended to walk side-by-side.

“Towns, cities, farms - none of these will ever suit somepony of my great talent.  I looked for something more… appropriate.”  He smiled.  “My castle was once home to the good princess, Celestia.”  He spoke her royal name with obvious disdain for her regal position.  “As she is no longer in need of it, I have made it my own.  There is an abundance of rooms,” he hinted, in case she was already wondering.

There was certainly room in Inferno's kingdom-to-come for a mare such as this.

Paradise hummed in thought, looking ahead of her. She had not missed Inferno's tone describing Celestia. Few ponies would have used that tone. Even the ponies that Paradise had met that were on the very bottom of the ladder of society had some respect, however grudging, for their princess. It was something that they were raised with, after all. It took something drastic to shift that mindset.

'Is your talent...' Paradise mused, 'Is it so grand that it leaves no room for others?'

The very thought of Princess Celestia, her purported perfectionism and judgmental ways, threatened to enrage the dark brute, but he ignored his simmering temper.  Celestia was as useless to him as the dirt beneath his fiery red hooves. The strange beauty at his side, however, was a different story. “There is room for others - when they know their place,” he responded with a jagged smirk, as casually as if he had merely commented on the weather.  Those who did not… Well, Inferno didn’t bother to mention those currently dwelling in the cold, dank prisons of his magnificent castle.

'...their place,' Paradise repeated, reflecting on what Inferno had said, then her voice took on a tone that was recalling something from long ago. The cadence was steady, measured, each beat as if it was almost singing, chanting, but not quite. Her voice never lost its gentleness however, and the words flowed into the night air.

'It was Autumn, and the priestess was tending to the garden of her temple. She pulled out all the weeds, she trimmed all the hedges, she combed all the moss. Finally, she raked all the leaves. She took a long time, making sure that she did not miss a single one. When all the leaves were raked and arranged to her satisfaction, she stopped to look at her handiwork.

It was beautiful. Indeed, her temple had never been so before. Yet, the priestess felt there was something missing. Or rather, she felt there was something she had missed.

As she was wondering what it could have possibly had been, strong gusts of wind stirred up the branches of her tree, scattering many, many leaves around her garden.'

Her story done, she fell silent, apart from her hooves crushing the undergrowth beneath them. She glanced at Inferno, wondering what his reaction would be.

Inferno, hardly a philosopher, cast the mare an odd look as she told the story of a priestess in a temple, leaves and wind — it made little sense to the enormous unicorn, and his face contorted as he attempted to decipher the tale.  What was she supposed to be?  A poet?  The way she spoke was lyrical, but she may as well have been speaking her native tongue.  Her carefully constructed words’ meaning was utterly lost on Raging Inferno.

When she finished speaking, he could feel her calm eyes turn to him as if she anticipated a grand reaction.  Instead, the stallion’s expression scowled.  Was she trying to make him look foolish?

No - he mustn’t jump to conclusions.  She was to be his guest, after all.  Even if he couldn't properly recite her name. “Your story speaks of futility.” That was his interpretation, anyway.  He added, “You will enjoy the garden at the castle.  Is that what you are interested in?”

'Futility? I suppose that is one way to look at it,' Paradise smiled, 'In the end, what you take from it is purely up to you.'

The story could indeed mean a lot of things; the nature of chaos, the meaning of perfection, the perception of beauty and, indeed, the futility of effort. The purpose of the story wasn't to preach a message, rather it was to provoke thought. Such vagueness of meaning did not sit well with the black and red unicorn, she could tell. Raging Inferno was not the type to reflect on things, to think about them.

He was definitely not one to admit uncertainty. To him, Paradise thought, it would be a weakness.

She hummed in thought again. 'I don't see you as the type to garden, Mr Inferno. I am supposing that there are others that live with you? What are they like?'

In this she was truly curious. Not only in whether there were ponies that lived with this unicorn who was proud beyond measure, not only what they were like, but how Inferno viewed them. After all, one saw the world not as it is, but as what they were.

Paradise wondered if he viewed any pony as a friend.

Inferno was quite pleased with the course of the conversation, mistaking the mare’s curiosity as a symbol of willingness, an interest in what a stallion such as him had to offer.  He was more than happy to oblige her questions.  In the distance, the dark, ancient castle was rising into view.

“Yes,” he confirmed with a proud(er) expression.  “I have several followers already, with new additions almost daily.  Pearl Facet and Glitter Hail have been most helpful.” He failed to mention what they had succeeded in doing: gathering talented ponies to serve Inferno.  Unicorns to develop new, fearsome magic.  Earth ponies provided labor, rebuilding the castle and reenforcing its defenses.  Involuntary followers.  “There are… others,” he commented, following a brief silent pause. “Everypony has a place.” Even if said place was a prison...

Paradise was astute, it seemed: in Inferno’s world, others were not friends - they were submissive or resistant, ally or foe.  Servants or slaves.  There was no room for gray in his stark black-and-white perspective.  The one thing Inferno did not yet possess was a queen, which every noble king should have, and an heir to the glorious regal line he intended to produce.

'Pe- Pe-ra-lu Facet, and Glitter Hail?' Paradise asked, tripping over her pronunciation, 'What are they like?'

She decided not to pursue the subject of the 'others' for now. Such a pursuit would not be helpful. No doubt said ponies would be beneath Inferno's notice, but Paradise fully intended to find out about them. She had her suspicions, and it would be unwise to reveal them here and now. Definitely not to this proud, arrogant unicorn.

And of course said proud, arrogant unicorn would settle for nothing less than the castle that Paradise now saw in front of her. Though she had lived most of her life in self-inflicted poverty, she was no stranger to extravagance. On the other hoof, extravagance was very much a stranger to her.

This castle would be no exception, it seemed. Ruined spires, dark windows...it was not place where one loved and lived. It felt both angry and sad, but more than anything else, it felt lost. A beggar's shack was more welcoming, a lord's holiday house was more genuine. More than anything, Paradise felt sorry for the pony who would call it home.

'Is that where you live, Raging Inferno?'

Inferno’s focus shifted from the castle to the mare at his side, noting her odd curiosity for those he had already convinced to join him.  It took some effort to ignore a sense of suspicion.  Raging Inferno did not trust easily. “They are… loyal.  They work hard.” He paused, before offering something of a challenge: “If you care to meet them, you will undoubtedly meet them at the castle.”

How much further did she dare to go?  Was her cool demeanor hiding something else?  Inferno’s intrigue only grew with the passing minutes.  If she wanted to join his cause, she would be welcomed - but if she had other motives… Inferno was watching now, for any hint of deception.  But he saw little more than serenity from the unnamable mare.

’Is that where you live, Raging Inferno?’  The stallion’s pride was obvious, with a wide, conceited grin.  ”Of course.  It is magnificent, isn't it.  There has been a great deal of construction to repair it to its former glory.  No trace of its former inhabitants remain.” As the pair neared the structure, there seemed to be magic in the air around them - foreboding, unnatural.

'Former glory...no trace of its former inhabitants?' Paradise couldn't help but wonder out loud. Did she hear what he said correctly? Maybe it was some obscure colloquialism that she hadn't learned yet. 'Yes, I think I would like to meet the other ponies that live here.'

Her eyes traced the doors of the foreboding entrance. Well, despite the fact that she was far from home, there were still customs that she had to follow. She considered briefly about explaining herself to Inferno beforehand before deciding against it. In a way, it didn't really concern him. If he was curious, he'd have to ask afterwards.

She coughed, then raised a hoof, pointing directly at the castle, eyes closed, chanting a chant she had chanted many times before.

'"<May this town and its foals be blessed by the divine forces which govern fate. As a representative of the faith which guides our holy land, I Paradise Blossom, humbly request residence in your home.>"'

The dark pony’s mouth opened to speak, to tell about how strong the walls were, and how in times of war, the castle was ideal refuge - but the words halted when the unusual visitor began to talk again in her native language - little more than gibberish to Raging Inferno.  The mare’s innocent words were easily misinterpreted by a suspicious mind.  He inhaled sharply as he watched her, caring little for the customs of her natal lands.

Was it a curse?  Or perhaps she was a spy, playing coy to gain information to weaken Inferno and his ambitions.  He could only begin to imagine - and his twisted mind could conjure up any number of foul intentions.  His voice, an octave lower than previous, addressed the foreigner coolly. “And what did you say?”

Paradise waved off his concerns. 'I was merely asking the castle permission to enter,' she said in a half teasing tone, 'It is something my homelands require me to do out of politeness.'

It was of course, far deeper than that. As a priestess, the laws of her home allowed her complete freedom of movement. Not even the most powerful warlords were allowed to bar her kind from entering their homes. As such, tradition dictated that they announced themselves clearly so that the residents of wherever they went were aware of who was trespassing their boundaries. Though almost unthinkable beyond the Neighpon isles, this permission held even in the depths of war. The holy mares and stallions oft brought medical supplies to heal the wounded, and the monasteries were sanctuaries for the noncombatants. Those who violated these sacred laws quickly found themselves without allies and abandoned, easy prey for their rivals.

That was, until...

Anyway! The missionaries who went beyond Neighpon had to adapt to the fact that they were not immediately regarded as sacred. Most still carried their traditions, though, and Neighponese culture was slowly spreading with small monasteries being built beyond the homelands.

Paradise was on the cusp of this wave, already spreading her beliefs throughout the countryside of Equestria. Equestria, however, was a unique case. It was hard to introduce outside ideas to a country that believed itself to be the centre of the world.

'Roughly, it means something like "bless this place and the ponies that live here; as a representative of my home of Neighpon, I ask permission to enter."'