The walk towards Muddy Hooves bore no conversation. Xerihan and Ricket had nothing to say about what had happened, and even if they did, they were already absorbed in their own thoughts and worries. It had been a few hours since they left, and already the weight of their new reality was settling in like a crushing wave.

It was in this state of unease and contemplation that Xerihan suddenly heard a cart from behind them. Surprised, he turned around and saw a cart coming over a hill behind them, a lantern lighting up an unusually large pony pulling the cart with two others inside. What the hell…? That’s coming from Trottingham, who could have escaped with all of that chaos?

As the cart approached, both Xerihan and Ricket stared at it intently, too stunned and curious to do much else. Just as the cart passed them, Xerihan caught a glimpse of one of the ponies in the cart - and he was sure the stallion stared right back.

As the cart sped off along the road, Xerihan looked at Ricket incredulously. “Ricket, I think that was Dr. Charred.”

“The crazy SOB that took in our wounded and had a habit of making them ‘disappear’ when they weren’t supposed to? You mean THAT Dr. Charred?”

“Yeah… Looks like he managed to escape the riots in Trottingham…” Xerihan muttered.

“Shit. Well, as long as he doesn’t bother us…” Ricket replied, already shaking off the startling sight.

“Yeah… hey, we should get some rest. Let’s get off the road and into one of the trees, we can probably use a night’s rest.” Xerihan suggested.

“Sounds good.”

---

He fell. Fell, and fell, and fell. He fell so far that he could no longer see the sun, nor the moon, nor the stars which had condemned him to his fate. He fell until what he was no longer existed, and what he feared became the reality of the world around him.

There was a stab of pain, right between his wings. He managed to turn himself over, to look into the abyss he knew he was sinking into. When he saw it, he screamed wordlessly. Below, was a pink, rotted face, smiling as it opened its maw and devoured Xerihan whole.

---

Birds chirped. Leaves crinkled and fell as a soft breeze wafted through the trees. The temperature wasn’t too hot, nor too cold - a fine day by any measure. Xerihan flung open his eyes, his chest heaving and claws digging into the bark beneath him. Ricket looked over from his own branch, mutedly observing his friend. He spoke.

“Xeri. Calm down. It was just a dream, mate.”

The assassin breathed deeply for several seconds, slowing his beating heart. He finally smacked his lips and fell limp on the branch. “How… how long have we been sleeping?” he whispered.

Ricket shrugged before he jumped out and glided to the ground. His gear clattered as he landed. “Only for a couple of hours. Dawn was about an hour and a half ago. We have a decent lead in case someone tried to track us down, but it’d be better to stay on the move.”

Xerihan grunted. With effort, he rolled over and fell to the earth below, only opening his wings to soften the landing a couple of meters above the ground. He rolled his wings, feeling his cloak shift. “So… Muddy Hooves. Seems like that’s our only real option at the moment. You have a map?”

Ricket shook his head. “No. I only have a few supplies. My bow and arrows, two knapsacks, some extra clothing… well, you need the knapsack. Catch.” Ricket tossed the brown bag to Xerihan, who neglected to catch it. Rather than risk tearing it up, he instead picked it up carefully with his metal talons.

“Sometimes I think you forget I have daggers for claws, Ricket,” Xerihan clucked. “Do you have gloves?”

“Yeah, here.”

They exchanged the clothing, Xerihan hiding his metal claws with the soft fabric. He grumbled out, “These won’t last long. I need to find something that’s high quality, something that won’t chafe away...”

Ricket shrugged, before hefting his knapsack around his back. “Don’t know what to say, Xeri. We’ll just have to make do for now. You ready to head out?”

Xerihan considered the situation. He slowly rubbed the metal side of his face. “No. Just give me a minute, I’ll be ready soon.”

Xerihan took off his gloves and laid out two shirts he had snatched the night before. He carefully cut them up in dozens of long strips. With care so as not to hurt himself, he wrapped them around his face, covering up the melted mask along with the rest of his features. He tied them up at the back of his head, interlacing them so they wouldn’t move in the slightest. When he finished, only his beak and his eyes were visible. The area around his left eye was marked with little ridges; a close inspection would reveal that something was underneath those rags. But for a cursory inspection, Xerihan would just appear to have a wrappings all over his face.

The only clue that Xerihan might have been a member of the Cult was a sliver of bronze that peeked out from around his left eye. He couldn’t cover it up, not unless he desired to experience life partially blind. So he left it, knowing his hooded cloak would still keep most from seeing his face. He walked back to Ricket, who motioned with his claws to hurry up. “Ready now?”

Xerihan nodded, taking the lead down the road. “Yeah. Let’s move.”

---

The duo walked the road for hours. Neither complained about their situation, though they both were lost in their own thoughts. For Xerihan, however, his thoughts started to drift into pain. The last time he had taken some Salt had been before his near-execution by the Cult. Now it was midday, and his body ached. In particular, the constant pain in his claws was returning. Using the drug had calmed him and dulled the pain; at the moment, Xerihan could only think of taking the drug to dull how he felt.

It didn’t help that he felt the need to take the drug just as a matter of course. After years of addiction and its familiarity, Xerihan found himself unconsciously reaching for the small pouch on his side.

Ricket cast a sideways glance at his friend, and he grabbed Xerihan’s arm. “Xeri. I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Xeri ripped his arm away from Ricket, snarling. “I didn’t ask for your opinion, Ricket! I just need a little bit and I’ll be fine!” He reached for the pouch again.

Ricket slapped Xerihan’s claw away from the pouch. “Listen, Xeri! We don’t have access to more Salt, and we don’t have any money! Just taking more isn’t going to help you, not in the long run!”

Xerihan glared at Ricket, debating whether to hit him or not. But after a moment, his friend’s words struck home, and he realized Ricket was right. The assassin looked at the ground, his teeth gritted in frustration and mild horror.

Ricket took the chance and continued. “Besides, what about Pinkie Powder? That stuff links you directly to the Cult, and you’re addicted to the damn thing! If you keep taking Salt, you’re just keeping that link alive longer. Look, Xeri-”

Ricket stopped, thinking carefully about what he would say. He proceeded slowly. “I didn’t have a problem with you taking that shit while we were in the Cult. But we’re on the run now, and that stuff is letting them keep a hold on you. If we’re really going to make a clean break, you have to stop this. Now or never. Because… dammit, the Cult ain’t taking us back. You need to do this.”

Xerihan clutched the bag of precious Salt, and he sighed.

He’s right. It’s a hindrance, it’s a bad link, it’s holding me back. No, even worse - it got me into this situation. The assassin recalled how he had started taking the substance back in his army days, and how it had gotten him kicked out with no claws. He had barely survived that, and it had led him to the Cult. Which is trying to kill me now. Fuck.

Another voice spoke in his head. Don’t do that… just keep it. It can’t hurt, it makes you feel good… look, your claws are bleeding again… It hurts, doesn’t it? Why not use it, make the pain disappear… Ricket will understand…

Xerihan looked back up to Ricket. His friend was staring at him, waiting for his answer. He choked, not sure what to do.

I can’t… I need to stop this. Now.

Nonsense. You can always get more. Sell things if you need to… steal it… murder for it… you know how. You can tell the junkies from the dealers. It would be easy… so, so easy…

Xerihan grunted. No! I’m not doing-

“ARGH!!” he yelled, clutching his head in pain. He gasped for air, trying to come to an answer.

Ricket shook him, trying to grab his attention. “Xerihan! Think! You know what to do. Just do it, before you can take it back!”

Xerihan shook his head. He’s right. Just throw it. Throw it!

Don’t you DARE!

The assassin shot up into the air before chucking the bag of Salt as far as he could. It landed in the forest below, well away from the path. Xerihan gulped, trying to calm down.

Oh god, I’m going cold turkey, I’m going to feel the need, it’s going to hurt, son of a bitch I feel it already, why did I do that, gah!

Oh, you will regret this… just think of all that exquisite pain you’ve inflicted. It’ll be returned to you ten fold, as your mind chews itself up in agony. Oh, just think of the pain…

Xerihan floated back down, hyperventilating as the realization of what he just did caught up to him. Ricket was there immediately. “Hey, hey, you did it, it’s alright now. You made the right choice, Xeri, it’s for your own good. Can you hear me? Xeri, you don’t look good… Come on… Don’t do… have to walk… Xerihan!” Ricket’s voice faded away.

---

When Xerihan woke up, he was inside a small carriage that was rocking to and fro. He could feel every pulse of blood flowing into his head, driving a new spike of pain there a couple times every second. He groaned, feeling bile in his throat.

“Xeri? You awake?” came a voice.

The cloaked assassin rolled over, and he peeked out at the flap of the carriage. Ricket was there, looking in with concern. Xerihan noted his friend’s gaunt expression. “Ricket? Ugh… My head is killing me… what happened?”

Ricket sighed and sat down. “You passed out. Pretty sure you were having a panic attack at the thought of not having Salt.”

At that, a pang of fear shot through Xerihan’s heart. Oh no…

His expression must have been clear, because Ricket nodded. “Yup. It’s for your own good, Xeri. You’ll be fine, just so long as you take it easy.”

Xerihan’s fear was replaced by anger instantaneously. “Take it easy? Take it easy!? Ricket, we’re on the run, and we’re probably being hunted by the Cul-”

Ricket lunged forward in panic and shut Xerihan’s beak. He spoke in a frenzied whisper. “Xeri, don’t yell that out loud! While you were out, I found a family heading to Muddy Hooves. They agreed to carry you in exchange for some clothes, but they don’t know who we are or what happened in Trottingham! Keep your voice down so we don’t get attacked!”

Xerihan breathed in and out heavily, trying to keep his anger in check. He nodded. Ricket let his beak go. “Okay,” Xerihan murmured. “I’ll keep quiet. Now, where are we?”

Ricket leaned back, pulling out a map. “Well, lucky for us, they lent us a map. We should be about halfway to Muddy Hooves right now. It’s almost dusk, so the family we’re with will likely stop to rest soon. When that happens, we should leave quietly and continue on our way. Quick and easy, and we’ll keep the lead we have on our ‘friends’.”

“Okay,” Xerihan replied softly.

Fifteen minutes later, the carriage did indeed stop. Both gryphons climbed out of the back of the carriage, and walked out to where the pony family they were traveling with were making camp. Xerihan kept his hood low, only revealing his beak. Ricket simply plodded forward, keeping a neutral expression. He whispered carefully, “They heard your name before, so don’t bother coming up with a fake name.”

The family that was gathered was fairly large; three stallions, four mares, and two children. The eldest stallion - an older stallion who looked to be in his sixty’s - beckoned them forward. “So, you’re finally awake, hmm? You and your friend Ricket here were in a dire state when we found you. My name is Flat Iron, and this here is the Iron family. My wife, Lily-” an older mare waved genially - “My two sons, Hot-Weld and Temper-” the other stallions nodded carefully, one with a small frown - “their wives and my daughters-in-law, Feather and Bridgette-” two of the other mares smiled softly - “my daughter, Silver-” the last mare glared at the gryphons non-subtly - “and finally, my grandchildren, Rocky and Gellner,” the two children hid behind their respective mothers’ legs.

Flat Iron paused, holding a hoof out to Xerihan. “So, may I have your name, stranger?”

Xerihan carefully grasped the elder’s hoof, trying not to grip hard enough for his metal talons to be felt through the gloves. “I’m Xerihan. You have my thanks for helping us; I probably wasn’t heading anywhere fast when you found us.” The two parted, Xerihan tugging his hood lower.

Flat Iron regarded him carefully. “You’re very much welcome, and no, I’m afraid you weren’t,” he replied with a half smile. “Now, I heard you’re travellers from up north, and I can tell you this much: it’s a bad time to be wandering Equestria, especially just the two of you. Bandits, cultists, wild animals even. Not to mention the armies that occasionally march through, along with the rumors of alicorns returning. So what could two gryphons like yourselves be doing down here in these troubling times?”

Xerihan and Ricket glanced at each other. “Umm…” Ricket started, before Xerihan calmly replied with, “We’ve been sent as envoys from the gryphon states. Unfortunately, we’ve lost our way. Once we reach Muddy Hooves, I believe we’ll be able to head back north.”

Flat Iron nodded. “Fair enough.” He looked back at his standing family, the gulf between the two parties evident. Flat Iron harrumphed good-naturedly. “Ah, look at me prattle on. Come, let’s start the fire before it gets too late. And please, stay awhile longer. Travellers like us need to stick together in times like this.”

The older pony beckoned them to follow, and so the gryphons did.

While they walked, Flat Iron asked one last question. “So, I noticed you wrapped your face up… I imagine you’ve got something to hide.” His voice wasn’t filled with malice, but the question still riled Xerihan. He decided to reply as calmly as he could.

“In a manner of speaking. Before I was a diplomatic envoy, I was a soldier. My squad was attacked by a manticore at one point, and though we killed it, we lost some good men and my face was scarred. I don’t like to show my face in general - it’s nothing personal.”

Flat Iron grunted. “Of course. Didn’t mean no disrespect, it’s just uncommon to find a fella that won’t show his face, is all. Even for a gryphon.”

Xerihan laughed mirthlessly at that.

You don’t even know the half of it.

---

That night, the large group ate and made small talk, discussing things as trivial as the weather and as serious as the recent arrival of the alicorns. Hours passed, and one by one the family of ponies retreated into their carriages for the night. Soon enough, only Flat Iron, Temper, Xerihan, and Ricket were still up. As Flat Iron and Temper talked, Ricket waved fro Xerihan to follow him. They retreated away from the dulling campfire, and Ricket whispered to his friend.

“[size=1]Xeri, I think we should get ready to go. I’ll head to a tree to sleep in, and you talk until they head to bed. Meet up with me and we’ll head out. Sound good?[/size]”

Xerihan glanced back at the fire, where Temper and Flat were still discussing something. “Not yet. Ricket, we need money, we need supplies. We’ll do what you suggested, but let’s take some money for ourselves. When you head out, wait for them to head to bed. Then we’ll take what we need and head out.”

Ricket glared at him. “Seriously, Xerihan? After what they’ve done for us, you’d really think of stealing from them? They’re just travellers, for Luna’s sake! We can steal stuff once we reach Muddy Hooves, but let’s leave these poor folk alone.”

Xerihan scoffed. “Don’t act so damn high and mighty, Ricket. We’ve both killed for trivial things, and we’ve both done horrible things under the Cult. I don’t understand why you think we should treat this family should be any different.”

Ricket was about to forcefully respond when Temper called out to them. “Hey, you two done talking over there? We’re about to put out the fire!”

Ricket swore, and Xerihan leaned in. “Just do it, Ricket! I’ll distract them if I need to, but you can't deny we need more supplies. We stay with them, the Cult will catch up and they will die. And they’re well off; they won’t miss a few bits.”

For a moment, Xerihan wasn’t sure what Ricket would do. Finally, his friend relented. “Son of a - fine, I’ll do it! But don’t act like this isn’t underhanded, even for you.” With that, Ricket winged back over and bid the two ponies good night. Xerihan shook his head, looking out into the dark forest. “I’m an assassin, Ricket... I’m always underhanded.”

---

Flat Iron had gone to bed inside one of the carriages, while Temper had elected to stay out and keep watch. He had fallen asleep, though, and the gryphons took their advantage. Ricket and Xeri quietly pilfered the two carriages, taking random clothing, items, food, and bits.

They stuffed their knapsacks, and were about to head out when Ricket tripped, his bag rattling loudly in the silent night. Xerihan froze, looking for any sign of movement. He put a talon to his beak, signalling for Ricket to be quiet. The ponies in the carriages didn’t stir; they had been asleep for too long. But Temper, who had only recently dozed off, flinched awake.

“Hmohuwhat!?” he mumbled as he blinked away his nap. His eyes focused on Ricket, and then on Xerihan. He saw their filled knapsacks, and how they were both staring at him. It took a moment, but it finally clicked in his brain. “H-Hey! You thieves, stop-”

Without hesitation, Xerihan ripped off his glove and leaped forward. Before Temper could move, his throat was torn apart, his cries dying in a bloody gurgle. Xerihan laid the body down gently, wiping his talons before replacing his glove. Ricket shook with rage, but he was quiet. Like two winged phantoms, they departed the camp and flew down the road.

When they were far away enough, Ricket tugged on Xerihan’s bag and dragged both of them down to the ground. They stumbled as they landed, and Ricket rounded on his friend. “Xeri, what the actual FUCK!? Why did you kill him!?”

Xeri patted down his cloak to scatter the dust. “Because he was about to wake everyone up, and that would have gotten ugly fast. I just did what I had to do.”

His friend simply stared at him, his mouth agape. “Xerihan, what the hell are you talking about!? You could have knocked him out instead of killing him! Actually, we didn’t even need to steal! It’s only because of your insistence we did that, and now there’s a father missing a son, a wife missing a husband, a child missing his father! Do you even care? Xeri!”

Xerihan waved off the his friend’s concerns. “I know what I did, Ricket, you don’t need to lecture me about it.”

That only served to enrage the other gryphon. “Do you? Do you really know what you did? Xerihan, what you did in Trottingham was under orders, so you had to! But now we’re on our own, so you have to accept the fact that no one’s killing people other than you! Not a superior, not a priest!”

He’s right, again… Xerihan thought begrudgingly. He grimaced, sliding his talons together absent-mindedly. I probably would have been able to subdue him… but killing was the easier option… wait. Xerihan’s ear twitched.

“Wait,” he repeated, this time verbally.

“What, Xeri!?” Ricket yelled angrily, wondering why his friend wasn’t answering his question. Xerihan merely shushed him.

“I hear something… someone might be watching. I say we keep moving.”

Ricket snorted in disgust. “Fine. Nicely done, avoiding my question like always.” He started to walk, as Xerihan peered out into the pitch black forest.

---

There was a faint rustling of leaves as a shadow came to life and moved away from the spectacle. It had been following the family for some time, figuring that they may be of use for its mistress.

Seeing the hooded stranger slice open the throat of one of the family had given him another goal, and that was to follow the two gryphons, one of which was the murderer. He bore no grudge against him, and did not seek to avenge the family. He could always return to them.

The faint rustle of more leaves to his left caught his attention. He looked to the side and met the eyes of a transparent fox. Their eyes locked and, after some time, the shadow nodded.

One of her sentinels. So that’s what they are. Interesting couple. He glided further, not making a single sound as he moved on closer to the two gryphons. He didn’t know their names, but their previous profession was something he had just been told.

Silent as a ghost he followed the two, trailing parallel to them just a few metres away, obscured both by the blessing and his own abilities. He was as good as invisible to them, silent as the grave to boot. The only thing that might give him away were his two, white eyes. No iris, only a white that seemed to shine like the moon itself.

I’d rather I reveal myself than they find me first. He took to the air, rising as if defying gravity rather than flying with wings.

Branches and trunks passed through him, the occasional bat didn’t even notice him as it flew through his body. He would’ve smirked if he could.

A few moments passed before he was right above them, and then dove down.

He landed in front of the two gryphons, appearing as a hovering, pony-like phantom of a dark blue, almost black, colour with pupil-less eyes that shone like the moon. There was no mouth to speak of, and the only thing decorating his body save the eyes were the shadowy mane and tail that flickered like fire, and the horn rising proudly from his head.

“Hello.” His voice was deep and shattered the stillness of the night.

Ricket jumped backward at the sudden appearance of the phantom, drawing his bow quickly and taking aim. “Whoa! Back up, pal!” he snarled, his anger with Xerihan bleeding into his speech.

Xerihan prepared to loosen a glove when he noticed the ethereal appearance of this pony. He racked his brain for what he could be, when he remembered a briefing he had seen once. A Nightmare, Xerihan realized. Judging by this pony’s appearance, the assassin wouldn’t be able to lay a claw on him - though by the same token, Xerihan wouldn’t be harmed either.

“Ricket, put that down. You can’t hurt him, and he can’t hurt us. Now, what do you want? We’re two very busy travellers, and I’d like to reach Muddy Hooves before dawn,” he spoke crisply, wary of the sudden appearance of a Moon and Star Nightmare.

“Not busy enough for a detour to kill some innocents?” There was a certain amount of mirth in the way he spoke, as if he didn’t seem to really care all that much. Either that, or he just wanted to poke fun at them. “And you should listen to your friend. If I wanted to, you’d both be dead right now, so put the bendy-play-stick down, if you will.” A chuckle escaped him, and this one was definitely one of mirth.

Ricket put the bow down reluctantly, distrust and sheer frustration still showing on his face. Xerihan lowered his head further, so the Nightmare wouldn’t be able to see his face. “You didn’t answer my question. And how I spend my time is none of your concern. So I ask again: what do you want, Nightmare?”

“What do I want? Oh ho ho ho… Nope! Wrong question!” He suddenly seemed to fall through the earth, only for his upper body to appear from the gryphon’s chest and look him right in the eyes. Even without a mouth, it was easy for the gryphon to see his smile, a smile that spoke of his secret not being so easily hidden from such a close proximity. “The question is, what do you want? Why are two former assassin’s of the Cult killing a random stranger - one that helped him to boot - when he could’ve just knocked him out, or without taking out the others and converting them into play dolls?” He flew out of the gryphons chest and returned to his previous position in front of them, hovering a good ten centimetres above the ground.

“You want something that isn’t the same as what the Cult wants, right?” It wasn’t so much a question as a statement.

Ricket spoke before Xerihan could reply. “We never said we were Cultists, freak. What makes you sure-”

“Calm down Ricket,” Xerihan sighed. “He obviously knows. And to answer you, it was more efficient to simply kill him, and because that’s not my goal. Frankly, subversion has never been my goal.”

Xerihan smacked his lips. “You already seem to have us figured out. Try this on for size: the Cult wants to kill us. Guess how we feel about that.”

The Nightmare raised a hoof and tapped his chin with it. Or rather, he tried, as it went right through his chaw. He scowled at it as best he could in his current form. “Bah!”

Returning his attention to the two cultists he spoke in a calm and measured way. “You don’t want to join the hundreds of other puppets you’ve been responsible for, I take it?” His eyes narrowed, making his already scary face something out of a literal nightmare; an angry spirit that had its anger focused on you. “You want to flee,” he circled around them, stopping to speak only when he could look them in the eyes up close. “You don’t want to die and join your victims, whether what they became was your intention or not.”

“You cherish life. You fear death.”

“Tell me…” He stopped and his glare bore through the night and held Xerihan’s gaze, whether he wanted to or not. “Do you want to stay safe?

Xerihan held the gaze, wondering what this Nightmare was going on about. “...You’re following something other than Moon and Star, aren’t you? You’re by yourself, in the middle of the woods at night, deep in Stormwing territory. Talking to two former cultists, whom the Inquisition hates, if I recall correctly, and you’re asking something like you’re recruiting us.”

The corner of Xerihan’s beak twitched upward. “Of course I want to stay safe. But that depends on what you’re offering.”

“Xeri… I don’t like this…” Ricket muttered, keeping an eye on the hovering Nightmare.

It took but a split second, but the Nightmare moved from Xerihan to the other gryphon. “Does it surprise you?” he asked with an undertone of mischievousness and held back mirth. “Do you know what they call your most deep-rooted fears? The ones that only come forth in the dark of night? They are called what I am; a Nightmare.” He chuckled. “I don’t expect you to like me, I expect you to listen.”

He jumped back to where he was before, in front of the duo, and spoke again. “You are both right and wrong. I am not just any Nightmare, but I am still devoted only to the Moon Goddess. I do, however, work with one of the newly arrived gods. Perhaps you have heard of Theá Erímo? The Huntress?” He hovered closer. “Seek her out, swear fealty and beg for her her forgiveness and blessing. She will let you hide, she will protect you.” He glanced to the left. “Come dawn there should be a group of deer two hours travel that way. Hunt down and take the hide from one and bring it to her, offer it as proof of you being worthy hunters, but do not let the animal’s death be in vain. That is not the cycle of life and death that is the essence of the wild.”

Xerihan looked the same way the Nightmare had pointed, and his eyebrows furrowed. “That’ll take us further away from Muddy Hooves… we’d be lucky to keep our advantage…” he muttered to himself. He looked back at the floating phantom. “I’ll consider it. But what if I’m not interested? I’d hope you wouldn’t tell her to come looking our way just to spite us,” he finished with bemusement.

The nightmare looked at them with an almost incredulous stare. “Pfft! Really? You really think I’d do something like that?” He chuckled. “You know as well as I do that allying with her is your best chance of getting out of this mess alive. She loathes the Cult like nothing else. You two don’t seem like much other than a couple of murderers, and hunters in some way - you certainly do sneak around - so I don’t think she would put an arrow through your heart at sight.”

“Regardless. The Cult knows of her, and they know that they’d need an entire army in the hopes of putting her down. The last thing they would expect you to do is to ally with one that seemingly murders their kind on sight. Am I right or am I right? Furthermore, her blessing will allow you to stay hidden much better than anyone else. If you wanted to hide or sneak away, there’s little chance you would be find what with your abilities and her blessing.”

Xerihan frowned. “You’re making it sound like she’d protect me from the Cult. This god can’t be everywhere at once, try as she might, and more than likely I’ll eventually be overtaken by the Cult. Why would I risk incurring her wrath when I’ve done nothing to garner her favor?” He waited for an answer. Then he snorted, shaking his head.

“Whatever. It doesn’t matter. How would I offer up the carcass of a deer up in tribute anyway, if I were so inclined to do so?”

“First of all. She despises the perversion of life and death that the cult undertakes. You’re merely the Cult’s pawns; their killers. The biggest crime you’ve committed in her eyes is to kill while allied with the Cult. Gaining her favour will be difficult, but it will save your life.”

“Secondly. You don’t offer the carcass, but the hide. Eat the meat or offer it up to another carnivore, but don’t let it lie. If you don’t want to carry it, then at least take the heart, consume what it was and skin it. The hide will be proof that you are hunters, and it will only make it easier for you.”

“And thirdly.” He paused. “The hunter will never become the hunted. Join her and you will be a hunter. And before you say anything, you were but pawns before, now you are refugees. Join her, and the Cult will never again be at your heels.”

Xerihan skeptically raised an eyebrow, and glanced at Ricket. His fellow gryphon simply shrugged, unsure of what to say. The assassin simply turned to face the Nightmare again.

“Okay. I’ll consider it. Now, will you leave us alone?” Xerihan asked.

“Perhaps, perhaps not.” A spectral hare hopped in from the tree line. It looked like a hare would normally do, but they could see through it. “These sentinels,” the Nightmare began, motioning at the hare with a hoof, “will lead you to her. You have but ask them and they will show you in which direction to go.”

He hovered backwards and a little up. “As for leaving you alone... that depends.” He smiled and then seemingly vanished into the shadows.

Xerihan glared at where the Nightmare had vanished.

“Charming,” Ricket deadpanned next to him. “Think he’ll actually leave?”

Xerihan shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. But I think I’ll take the chance to get on one of these alicorn’s good sides, if only for my own sake. Celestia knows I’ve pissed one off already.”

With little else to go on, they trudged through the woods like the Nightmare had suggested, hoping they’d find their prey soon enough.

((Sorry for double posting, just want to get this out of the way))

---

A little more than two hours after the appearance of the Nightmare, Xerihan and Ricket had reached a small clearing in the forest. Roughly thirty meters in front of them lay a group of ten deer. Xerihan and Ricket observed the group, looking for any signs of weakness.

“Any of them look sick?” Xerihan asked.

“Can’t say. Too dark too make out their complexion,” replied Ricket.

“Any injuries? I don’t see any of them limping.”

“Nope. They all look to be in decent health to me.”

“Damn. Looks like we’ll need to take the youngest, then.”

Ricket nodded in agreement as they both righted themselves. “Alright. But let’s do this quickly. We’ve wasted enough time here as it is.”

As silently as they could, the two gryphons climbed up the tree. They avoided the leaves as best they could, and made riskier movement only when a breeze rustled through the air. At the top of their hiding spot, they silently leaped and glided to the next tree. They repeated this until they were within fifteen meters of the deer. Some of the deer had heard movement, but they had yet to notice the gryphons.

Ricket drew his bow as Xerihan crouched down and removed his gloves. “How do you want to do this?” whispered Ricket, taking aim with his bow.

“Aim for the leg of one of the smaller deer. That should slow it down enough for me to tackle and kill it. Less risk that way.” Xerihan answered coolly. “Ready?”

Ricket nodded. The soldier took aim, and he breathed in.

Below them, the deer were looking in their general direction. They were motionless, waiting for something to happen.

He breathed out.

An arrow loosed itself toward one of the closest deer, and slid through its head with ease.The deer collapsed in a heap as the rest of the herd stampeded off into the woods.

Xerihan floated down to the fallen doe and inspected it. It was dead, it’s breathing stopped permanently. He sighed. “That could have gone horribly wrong, Ricket. Why didn’t you just hit the leg like I asked?”

His friend glided down beside him, sheathing his bow. “Because I had the shot,” he answered simply. “Why waste time killing the poor thing?” Ricket asked rhetorically.

The assassin shook his head. He grabbed the arrow and pulled it out carefully before handing it back to Ricket. “No matter. Let’s skin it and be on our way.”

Ricket wiped the blood off of the arrow. After inspecting it for deformities, he returned it to his quiver. “Agreed. You can have the pleasure. I’ll keep watch.”

Minutes passed in silence, broken by the rasp of metal on skin. Gradually, the hide of the deer was removed. Xerihan cleaned his claws and the hide before tucking the offering into his bag.

“Alright, we’re ready to move,” Xerihan said, eager to leave the clearing.

“Gotcha, let’s-” Ricket responded before his eyes glinted with alarm. Leaving his statement unfinished, he drew his bow and loosed an arrow. It flew and struck a Giggling Ghost, which had been watching them for an undetermined amount of time. As the specter dissolved into nothingness, Xerihan immediately dug into the deer’s carcass. Digging into the body with his claws, he managed to grab the heart and put it into his bag. “Run!” he yelled, having made sure the body was not wasted.

The two gryphons hurriedly left the clearing, knowing the Cult would be following them. They caught a glimpse of a ghostly rabbit, ethereal and entirely unnatural. “There!” Ricket cried, as they followed the rabbit to where the Goddess of Hunting would surely be.

---

A few kilometers away, Snap Freeze waited for the ghosts to return. One by one, they flew by, whispering to him what they had discovered. He gazed at the bodies of the caravan below him dispassionately while he learned where his quarry had went.

“They left the road, and went into the forest…” he pondered softly, nudging the body of an older stallion. “What could they be planning…?”

As the revelers and jesters under his command gathered the bodies of the family they had found, Snap Freeze ordered them to stop. “Xerihan and Ricket were here. They likely killed the lookout. Keep the bodies fresh for now, but don’t turn them yet. They may yet be of use.”

Looking back at the giggling ghosts that flew about, he ordered, “Trail the gryphons further. Stay out of sight, and alert me to any changes in the situation.” The ghosts all bobbed in midair, their macabre smiles and alert eyes sparking in comprehension. Away they flew, to trail the gryphons that had betrayed the Cult.

Snap Freeze looked at the tree line, watching his subordinates go about their tasks.

What are you two traitors doing…

---

Only a few minutes had passed since the sentinel hopped off towards the nearby city, and Theá, disguised as a doe, found herself just staring at the miniature empire.

She let out a sigh and shuffled for a more comfortable position. I hope she has become a little more humble in the past three months… she wasn’t always like this. It had been three months since they had landed on Equestria and, if the city was of any indication, then she hadn’t changed much. She sighed and was about to try and get a little sleep when she sensed a prickle in the back of her mind.

She stood up and turned around, beady eyes staring intently at the tree line not even a hundred strides away from her.

Gryphons? she thought when a pair of such creatures bolted out from the trees. What’re they doing here? She decided to keep playing the role of a deer rather than alicorn for the time being. There was a chance they’d say, or do, something in the presence of a “mindless animal” that they would in intelligent company.

Xerihan and Ricket jumped through one last piece of brush as they followed the spectral rabbit, coming out to the edge of the forest. When the rabbit stopped, they expected to see an alicorn of some kind. Instead, another deer was simply lying in the grass. Xerihan glanced around, looking for some evidence of an alicorn. His breathing was hitched, and Ricket simply panted heavily when he saw there was nothing there.

“What the hell… we followed the rabbit, didn’t we?” Xerihan snarled. Ricket simply shrugged as he continued to pant. “I don’t know, Xeri. Gah… that was a hell of a run…”

Xerihan, frustrated, plodded over to the rabbit, which was just sitting calmly in the open. “You! You’re supposed to lead us to Theá, aren’t you!? Where is she? Argh, the Cult’s going to catch up, and you’re just sitting there! All that’s here is some damn doe!”

Ricket simply stared at Xerihan as he ranted, then looked at the motionless deer. Funny, he thought. It’s not moving at all, and we could just reach out and touch it…

“Xeri,” he called out. Said gryphon turned around with a scowl. “What is it?” he growled.

“That deer. It’s not moving. Might have something to do with the goddess.”

The cloaked assassin glanced at the deer and noted how it wasn’t moving. In fact, now that he thought about it, the doe hadn’t bolted when they first came running into the clearing. “Huh…” he muttered, some of his frustration gone. “Maybe the rabbit did something. Think I should try talking to the deer?”

Ricket shrugged. “I don’t know, Xeri. Look, if we don’t get moving soon or find Theá, the Cult will catch up. Talk to it if you want, but we can’t stay here for long.”

While the two bickered over what they should do, two giggling ghosts slowly approached the clearing. One was overhead, in the trees, while the other watched from the side behind some bushes.

They were looking for me. She glanced briefly between the two, noting how they both bore signs of travel, and not a leisurely one but a quick and rushed travel. As if they were fleeing from something. She shook her head briefly, trying to keep it as deer-like as possible. Of course they were. They mentioned- her head snapped to a place above the two gryphons, eyes no longer docile but sharp and focused.

“The Cult,” she snarled, loud enough for the gryphons to hear her even through their own bickering.

Grasping only a tiny fraction of her power, Theá - the doe - formed two blue arrows of pure energy. They hovered beside her for a second and, as she shed her disguise, shot towards the two giggling ghosts, impaling both and destroying them before they had the time to blink or even realise that they were being attacked.

Before the gryphons stood no longer a docile deer, but an aqua green alicorn with a nutty brown mane and tail, both tied up in a braid. Her wings were spread out in a display of raw power and intimidation, their massive span a testament to the power contained within her body. She snorted briefly before her gaze snapped to the two gryphons. She said nothing, just looked.

The gryphons winced and ducked as they heard the arrows form and fire. “What in Tartarus…” Xerihan muttered as the arrows struck their targets. Turning around, the gryphons saw something that could only be described as majestic and terrifying. The doe that had been laying so calmly had transformed into a massive alicorn.

Guess the rabbit was right after all… Xerihan reflected, stunned by the sudden appearance of the goddess. He found that he couldn’t move. He was torn between running away from the alicorn and simply chucking the hide in hopes of averting her wrath. Before he could decide, Ricket spoke up.

“Theá Erímo, Goddess of the Hunt!” proclaimed Ricket, his face stoic but voice reverent if shaky, “we have come seeking your favor, and we would be humbled to offer you a gift!” The gryphon bowed, then motioned frantically at Xerihan.

The assassin realized he was still just standing in shock. With haste he withdrew the deer’s hide from his bag and held it in front of him. “For you,” he said softly, bowing lightly in the presence of the god.

I really hope this wasn’t a bad idea… Xerihan thought queasily.

Seeing that the danger - or annoyance in this case - was over, Theá calmed down a bit and folded her wings at her sides. Her eyes softened significantly but remained stern.

She eyed the hide. “You come seeking my favour? Why?”

The back of Xerihan’s throat dried up. “Because… because we desire to become better hunters, and we would be humbled to follow the Goddess of the Hunt,” he said, his voice cracking.

Ricket decided to add on. “We came across one of your followers, not so long ago. A Nightmare. He suggested we find you, and that’s what he have done for the past few hours.”

She stepped closer, looking down at them. “I sense only half-truths spoken, the full truth hidden.” She shook her head. “No matter. You bear an offering, I see. A proof of your worth, I take it?” The hide was surrounded and lifted off of the ground in an emerald glow. It slowly turned around to let Theá inspect it.

“A fine trophy,” she conceded, letting the hide down in front of the gryphons again. “But answer me this, mortals, why were those creatures following you?” She briefly waved a wing at where the Giggling Ghosts had been just moments prior. “The cult does not follow individuals without due course.”

At this question, Xerihan stumbled. He did not wish to reveal his true origins, though straight up lying would likely fail. At this point, he regretted not creating up a backstory beforehand, though it was understandable considering he had been on the run almost constantly since he arrived back at Trottingham.

For all his thought, all he could say was, “Um…”

“Because we betrayed the Cult,” Ricket stated with emotionless conviction.

Xerihan gawked at Ricket in horror. “Ricket!” he hissed, half in fury and half in terror.

Of all the possible answers that Theá could have gotten, this was certainly not one she expected. One eyebrow had been raised as if by its own volition, betraying her surprise at the reply.

“You betrayed the Cult?” They were a part of the cult, but aren’t anymore. They abandoned their vile ways and sought me out, likely the most hated enemy of the cult at this point in time, in an attempt to gain my favour. Her eyes swept over them repeatedly, seemingly searching for something. What to do with them? They no longer count as my prey per se, so killing them would violate my own rules. She sighed and glanced behind the two, stretching her mind just a little further to try and sense anything or anyone hiding in the trees. She found nothing.

“Tell me your story. You mentioned a Nightmare that lead you to me. What happened before you met him?”

Xerihan sighed. In many ways, he felt defeated, and his urge to run diminished, if only slightly. “We were walking the roads at night, trying to reach Muddy Hooves from Trottingham. He found us and advised us to seek you out. That’s all.”

Ricket glanced at his friend. “Xeri, don’t even bother. Just tell her,” he said wearily.

Xerihan would have slapped his friend if they were not in the presence of a being that could squash them instantaneously. Curbing that urge, he snorted angrily. “Fine! We robbed a family that was on their way to Trottingham, and when one of them saw us I killed him in panic. We ran after that, and that’s when the Nightmare accosted us. Are you satisfied, Ricket?”

Said gryphon simply nodded as continued to bow. “I’m just trying to keep you honest, Xeri.”

Xerihan scoffed. “Then you’re picking a really bad time to do that.”

Theá nodded once. As they were at the moment, she doubted that she’d get much more out of them without forcing it out. Sure, she could intimidate them into giving her a detailed description of what had happened before they met the Nightmare, but that wasn’t important.

“Meelo,” she called.

A shadow seemingly rose from the earth beside the gryphon whose face was not obscured by a mask. “Yes, Theá?”

“This family they speak of, if the cult is chasing them there is a chance that they may have fallen victim to the cult. Regardless of whether or not that is the case, return to where you last saw them, find the one this gryphon killed and burn the body. Do the same with the others if the cult found and killed them. If, however, they are already turned, then you know what to do.”

“Aye, aye, Mistress!” He raised a forehoof in salute and sped off, darting through the shadows of the forest as if they were parts of himself.

The goddess shook her head, a ghost of a smile playing at the corners of her lips. He never ceases to amuse me.

To the gryphons she said. “I will not applaud you for killing an innocent, but that is a minor complaint in the face of what you two have done. Not many have the courage to defy the Cult and join their enemy the same way you two have.” A pause. “Will you two accept my Blessing?”

Xerihan sighed. Finally. At least she won’t kill us, so that’s something more than what most others would do.

Partially looking up, Xerihan nodded and said, “Yes.” Ricket looked up to Theá fully and replied, “It would be an honor.”

She half unfurled her wings, holding them in a position that made it seem like she was about the embrace the two gryphons. A ball of something resembling a mix of light and liquid hovered at the tip of each wing, no larger than a golf ball. “Your names?” She asked.

“Xerihan.”

“Ricket.”

Nodding once, Theá moved her wings forward until the small orbs were almost touching their chests. “You have proven yourself capable hunters, showed courage to boot. You have defied my enemy and turned to me instead. Commendable in its own right, to be sure, but I know you are capable of more. Doubly so with this.” She touched the tips of her wings to their chests, the orb passing into them and quickly spreading, covering their entire bodies in an emerald glow before dying down just a few seconds later.

The two gryphons shivered as the magic flowed and entered their bodies. Xerihan couldn’t help but shake a sense of both dread and hope. Dread, because he had bound himself to yet another host. Hope, because he would actually have a chance of surviving the latest chapter of his life. Eventually, curiosity overcame him.

“If I may ask, what did you just do to us? Or rather, give to us?” asked the assassin.

“A piece of my essence, or soul as you mortals call it.” Her wings folded back at her sides and she sat down on the grass in front of them. “The boon I granted you will allow you to better hide in the wilderness. Let’s compare it to a foal’s game; Hide and Seek. Where you would normally be found second to last, with this blessing there’s a significant chance that you will be the last one to be found and, as such, the winner of the game.”

“In other words, merely wanted to hide when you are surrounded by the wild will allow you to hide. Do note, however, that you can still be found, and just standing beside a tree will not be enough; invisibility is not within my domain.”

Xerihan nodded. “And if we desire to contact you? I assume I would need to talk to one of your thralls?”

“They are not thralls, but creatures summoned and created by me. They are sentinels, messengers and scouts. Alternatively they can be a combat force. But that is unimportant. What’s important is that, yes, you can use them to contact me. They are capable of carrying short verbal messages, so give them a message and inform them that it is for me and they will come to me.”

She stood up again and stretched her wings before settling them back at her sides. “Do not think that my boon comes for free. You have proven yourself worthy, yes, but there is yet a price to pay. Being a part of my followers means that I expect you to gather information and deliver it to me, either through my sentinels or in person. My goal is to find Elder Sister Celestia and Elder Sister Luna, as well as bring back a balance to the world.”

“Of course,” Xerihan replied. “If that is all, Huntress, I would take my leave.”

Ricket nodded, silently asking the same question.

Theá returned their nod. “If you wish. I advise caution, however. Even with my boon the cult may still find you.” She turned around and returned the her previous spot, eyes locked on the city in the distance.

Taking the warning into consideration, Xerihan wordlessly trudged back into the forest, followed by Ricket. Their direction was roughly where Muddy Hooves would be. As they left and the rustle of leaves faded down, Theá was left alone at the edge of the forest.

---

Snap Freeze walked through the forest, leading his band of Cultists. They had left most of the physical items of the family back at the carriages, though their bodies were now being hauled with the troupe.

A single ghost came barreling through the forest, stopping in front of the grim Jester. It whispered to him, and he nodded in thanks.

They allied themselves with the Goddess of the Hunt. Unexpected. Which means I shouldn’t attempt to locate them directly for now.

Stopping the caravan momentarily, Snap Freeze pulled out a map, looking for where his targets might be. He noted the roads and where the forest stopped. Unless they wish to strain themselves by walking the plains, in open sight with no water, they would have to either take one of the rivers or continue to Muddy Hooves.

Snap Freeze looked at the point that was named, ‘Greyfeathers Encampment’. He is still antagonistic to the the gryphons. That would likely be a death wish for him, to head back north. Concluding that Xerihan likely wouldn’t travel there, he looked at the next dot, ‘Greenway’. Much too far to travel on foot. Xerihan would likely stay near the rivers, and doing that means travelling at least in proximity to Muddy Hooves.

He knew his target. Calling over two groups of ghosts, he ordered one of the groups to stay in position near the gryphon encampment, and the other to stay in Greenway. Xerihan and Ricket likely wouldn’t be there, but Snap Freeze would prefer to keep in the know if he deviated from expectations.

“Troupe! We will continue on to Muddy Hooves through the night, and we will make camp outside the town wall. We’ll wait for the traitor there, and corner him when he lets his guard down. Now move! Double time!”

We’ll arrive before he does, and set a trap. Hopefully we can end this farce and make him see the truth for his mistake. Nobody disappoints the Laughing Mare.

Softstep walked into the Spotted Raven Tavern. She and the rest of the fleet had docked in Baltimare Harbor. She looked around the small bar and spotted her fellow captains seated in the back. Swansong, a beautiful cerulean unicorn waved her over. Softstep walked over and took a seat by Bovir, a hulking minotaur.

“Took you long enough Step,” Bovir rumbled,” Where ‘s Crashing?”

“Indulging his habit,” she replied before flagging down a barmaid,” Oi a whiskey and leave the bottle.”

Bovir nodded at her answer while Swansong just rolled her violet eyes. Crashing Wave had a habit of stargazing. The barmaid set down a bottle of whiskey and a filled glass on the table.

“So what is our next move?” Crosswinds asked. The lanky lime green Pegasus was already on his fourth mug of mead and was barely feeling the effects. He had a legendary endurance that trumpeted some earth ponies.

“From what I’m guessing,” Softstep downed her first glass,” He wants to try to take Star Harbor.”

“A little ambitious,” Reaver grinned darkly from behind his mug,” I like that.”

“Ambitious and stupid,” Swansong added,” I mean taking down merchant ships is one thing but what you’re saying will start a bloody war with em.”

“We have the God of the Sea on our side Swan,” Bovir said, his grey eyes fixed on her,” We would be hard pressed to lose. Besides that we five command the most powerful ships in the Eastern seas. It wouldn’t be a battle it would be a massacre”

“An’ the city would be rich with plunder mates,” Crosswinds said throwing in his two bits,” Think of the glorious plunder a Moon and Stars trading hub would be holdin’. We wouldn’t just add to our numbers, we’d be blood y rich.”

Swansong snorted. She may be cocky at times but she always held a hidden fear of the Moon and Stars especially after her last run-in with the Inquisition. Swansong shivered when she remembered the torture they had put her through. Bovir reached a meaty hand over and held her hoof. It was no secret the pair loved each other and the massive minotaur was rather protective her.

“It will be well,” he said with a soft smile.

Swansong smiled and nodded,” Very well.” She looked to Softstep,” You have my daggers. So what’s the plan?”

“My ship and the Hurricane will be leading the forefront and draw the navy’s attention.” Crosswinds grinned at that. There was nothing he loved more than a fight at sea. “The Gilded Swallow and Widowmaker will dock away from the fighting and make to Star Harbor on hoof. Once there give the signal and we’ll be there to help you take the town. “Swansong and Reaver both nodded. “ Once we’re through the Dauntless will plow through the second we get the signal. Everyone in agree with the plan?”

They all nodded. Reaver cackled at the plan. To him any plan that let him slit throats was good. Swansong was relieved this plan had actually been thought through meaning Softstep had come up with it. If Crashing had his way they would have sailed right in with swords raised and nary a plan between them. Bovir thought the plan was sound and if anything went a miss well they did have a God on their side. Crosswinds didn’t much care what they did so long as he got paid at the end of the day. Swansong stood up.

“Are you well?” Bovir asked.

Swansong giggled,” Yes my dear. I wish to get some air.”

He nodded and she gave him a peck on the cheek. She sauntered out of the tavern and despite the allure of her figure, not one soul dared watch her leave for fear of bringing the minotaur’s wrath on them. Swansong relished the crisp night air with a satisfied smile as she stepped out of the bar. A cold winter was promised in the stiff breeze and the smell of burning oil hung in the air. With a content sigh she walked down to the pier.

Crashing Wave gazed up at the sky, as was his habit on night such as this. The moon was full and bright, unhindered by cloud cover and the stars shown down on the water. It was a breath-taking sight how when the waters were calm on the sea and the twinkle of the stars danced of the water’s surface. The alicorn pulled a small silver flask from under his wing and raised it in the air.

“Here’s to ye Love,” He took a sip and enjoyed the felling of the amber liquid burning his throat.

“You know it’s not healthy to drink alone.”

Crashing turned around and saw Swansong with a soft smirk on her muzzle. She walked up beside him and looked up at the stars. He wordlessly held his flask out to her. She took a sip and instantly regretted it as she went into a coughing fit. She enjoyed strong drink same as the next mare but the liquid in Crashing’s flask was enough to knock a minotaur of his hooves. Crashing let out a barking laugh at her expense.

“Goddesses,” Swansong finally managed to say,” How in Tarturas do you drink that stuff?”

“That’s dragonwine fer ye lass,” Crashing said in between chuckles,” It tests any who dare drink it and th’ fact yer still on yer hooves means ye passed.”

“Not for long,’ she grumbled,” So I have to ask. What’s with your habit of star gazing?”

“Does a stallion need a reason ta gaze at a work of art lass?”

“I guess not but looking at the same thing every night can get boring.”

“Trust me lass,” Crashing looked back up at the sky,” There’s always something new up there. It’s as ever-changin’ as me sea.”

“Well the way you look at it I’d say you were looking at the picture of some lost love,” Swansong quipped. Crashing stayed silent and his expression became unreadable.

“Wait a second you were in love with Princess Luna weren’t you?”

“Yer a sharp lass. Aye that I did,” Crashing chuckled humorlessly.

“But from what you told us you and the Royal sisters were related.”

“If there one thing as unruly as me sea its love lass. It doesn’t have barriers. Once it has ye yer powerless to its call.”

“I’m guessing that didn’t go over well?”

“Aye that it didn’t I was banished fer following me heart,” Crashing took another sip from his flask.

“Banished?”

“Aye Celestia didn’t agree with it so she banished me to th’ bottom of me sea for a hundred years.” Crashing’s wings twitched when he remembered his imprisonment. It wasn’t the initial banishment he found insulting. It had been having his Sea token form him, an insult he had yet to forgive much less forget.

“What happened when you were released?”

Crashing went silent and his face began to contort in anger. That had been the one day he considered striking one of his siblings. The only thing that stopped him was the sorrow he had seen in Celestia’s eyes.

” I didn’t look back lass.” He turned and started back down the pier, ending the conversation there.

Three months… no time at all in the eye of a goddess, but long enough nevertheless; long enough for news of their arrival to spread. Long enough for Rainbow Dash of House Stormwing to warily welcome her after hearing the alicorn’s assurance that the Celestial Princesses lived. Long enough for her to take several promising Stormwing warriors under her wings as apprentices. And long enough for some to wish ill upon their divine visitors.

Long enough for the Cult to attempt an assassination on the nearest of the descended deities.

Gazing out from a spot in the Flying City Cloudsdale upon the smoke trails and flames of Trottingham stood Armifera Imperatrix.

She surveyed the results of rioting, visible even at this great distance. How much the Cult had to do with it, she knew not, though she was aware of just how entrenched in the city they’d become. It was tempting to fly to the city and help, though she guessed her presence would only exacerbate things; nonetheless, if it became desperate enough, she would fly out there- Cultists or not.

She’d descended to the planet with only a faint inkling of what the Cult of Laughter was, and even then, she had harbored a firm dislike for what she knew.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she saw a flash of green erupt in the city. Putting her musings on hold, she grasped one of the small spyglasses Stormwing had, and peered through it at the city tearing itself apart.

She gritted her teeth and jammed the spyglass back into itself, she turned to one of the hoplites stationed at the doorway, calling out to the mare, “If Rainbow Dash wants me, for whatever reason, tell her I’m crushing a few cultists in that protectorate of hers, will you?”

Not pausing for an answer, she took a running leap off of the cloud, leaning into a steep dive angled towards the burning city in the distance.

★~★~★~★

The tides of battle seethed as hard pressed Ground Guard and Hoplites battled against the pressing weight of numbers of rioters, and madly cackling jesters and other cultists swarmed, with giggling ghosts gnawing at anything airborne; including the heavily armored alicorn swooping in with her swords drawn.

Dodging several of the little apparitions, and then dousing them liberally with a jet of flame, Armifera crashed into a cultist, dicing him into three pieces with her blades. Whirling and impaling another three, she conjured up an ethereal crescent shaped blade that sank into the throat of a rioter charging her with a pitchfork, before throwing the cultists back off her swords into the crowd.

“House Stormwing, rally!” She bellowed with all her might, cleaving another cultist in half as she did so, “To me!Carpe Diem!” A pitchfork glanced off of her armor, leaving it unblemished save for the spot where the assassin had barely missed his mark, and she caved in the skull of the offender with the butt of her sword, breaking the haft of an axe with the other.

She conjured up several ethereal swords, launching them into the crowd before her as the Stormwing troops surged back into battle with a renewed vigor.
“Disperse knaves! Whatever it is you seek, you shall not find it here! Disperse before we must eliminate all of you, and the Cult you seem so tolerant of!” She conjured up another set of swords, setting them spinning this time before launching them into the mob.

She followed in the wake of her ethereal assault, hacking, slashing, and thrusting; heedless of the lacerations and cuts that slowly manifested on the unarmored portions of her body.

Glancing around, Armifera realized that she’d managed to separate herself from the main body of Stormwing forces, and yelped in surprise as the red haze of battle lifted from her mind momentarily.

She flared her wings, pushing downwards on the air as she lifted herself from the carnage just below. Glimpsing a pack of ghosts pursuing what looked to be a small family in flight from the town, she hurled herself after them, bashing a few of them repeatedly with the flats of her swords, she enveloped the rest of them in a surge of flame.

Turning to the wide eyed family, she yelled at them, “Go! That city is tearing itself apart, find a place in one of the flying cities for now!” A younger mare with an aqua coat nodded firmly and began hurrying the rest of them away from the alicorn.

She glanced back to the violence on the streets, and the rioters and cultists who seemed to have taken heart from the fact that Stormwing’s alicorn aid appeared to have fled, and the Stormwing soldiers themselves seemed to share a similar sentiment themselves.

Bracing herself to fly back into the fray, Armifera glimpsed a small spectral hare watching her, and she chuckled in spite of herself, “Apparently Thea is keeping a close eye on things.” She said softly to herself, before calling out to the hare, “Give my regards to Thea, would you?!”
She launched herself back into the sky, crashing once more into a knot of cultist perched on a stormwing hoplite, repeatedly stabbing him as they giggled madly. She bellowed out once more to those surrounding her, “Did you think I had run?! Bah! Prepare to lose, my little friends! Before surging once more into the fray.

★~★~★~★

Nursing a particularly painful cut on one of her wings, where a jester had managed to land a cut prior to his decapitation, Armifera stood speaking with Rainbow Dash and several of the other senior officers of Cloudsdale- mainly with the superior officers.
“I’m telling you, Trottingham’s completely infested with the Cult, your troops, and myself for that matter, were openly under attack from Jesters and ghosts! Hoping the problem will go away isn’t going to fix anything!”

She scoffed, strutting off to the room she had been provided as her quarters, it was slightly larger than those of the average Hoplite, but her increased bulk negated that small bonus. She grumbled at the strict regulatory behavior exhibited by Stormwing, perhaps it was better in one of the different flying cities, who could say. Hurricane’s legions hadn’t been this uptight, she knew that much from what she’d gleaned in her observations of the mortal realm.
She didn’t stay in the room for long, opting to fly around the city and look for anything interesting. Once she’d cleared the more militant areas, it was a simple matter to find a bar, and she pushed her way into it.

The pegasi in the bar froze as an armored alicorn strode in, giving the building an approving glance. She sauntered up the bartender, cheerfully sliding into one of the seats, “Hey, give me some of the strongest stuff you got.” She called over to him, seeing how he’d managed to slide halfway down the bar already. Turning to one of the pegasi on the seat next to her, she extended her hoof in greeting, “Hey buddy, how’s it going?”

Only to realize that this pegasus happened to be the mare she’d terrified when she’d first arrived. “Summer Winds! Wow! S’great to see ya! How’s it hangin’?” A small glass of an amber liquid slid over to her from the bartender, and she grabbed it in her magic, “Anyhoo, let us eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we fly!” She gulped it down, grinning, “Or something like that.”

Scroll had left the Baths, and went up what was the shantytown's Main Street. He was clad in his Scholar's cloak, enjoying the beautiful evening. The newly installed lamps lit the street, and ponies went about their business. Many had gotten back from gathering, hunting, or cleaning. There was a lot more food now as the town improved. Winter was coming to an end, and spring would come.

Spring rains, thought Scroll. Sweeper did say one of her kin is responsible for that. The Scholar's mind then went back to the subject of water, as clean water was a priority for her. Of course, he wondered Sweeper didn't just do it so she could make good tea - it seems without the drink, she'll just go into a slump.

Whatever, everypony is happy we got hot pure water. That one old couple was crying at the sight - has things become so bad that something so simple has become a miracle?

Scroll was now entering what they called the Palace. It was once a hotel constructed of the finest marble, a resort that in better years had attracted vacationers as far as Canterlot. Once pillaged, Sweeper returned it to it's former glory. Granted, it was still very empty as a result of the furniture being stolen. And the architecture seemed rather plain.  But in the presence of Sliver Sweeper, the beauty of the place was enhanced. And when the pillars and walls began to shift from bland, shadowy grey to lovely bright white with warm tints, he knew she was home.

"Good evening Scroll! Mogil and Danny are here for dinner!," said Sweeper. The alicorn had a habit of nicknaming others - "Mogil" for Gildenstride, "Danny" for Star Dancer. Scroll was an exception, though it was because it was easier to say already.

"Excellent, I was finding myself rather hungry," said Scroll. "And those two could use a break. But what of the Mayor?"

"Oh, Ms. Hays is still working. Odd, I thought all Mayors did was just attend feasts?"

Scroll chuckled. "I'm afraid the office of Mayor has become more of actual position in these dark times, my Lady. It's one of leadership, until the Sisters return…"

Scroll stopped before he went up the stairs. They often ate on the flat roof, in full light of the sun or moon. Sliver made the dishes and set the food herself. The Chambermaid was her own best servant.

"What's the matter, Scroll?", she asked looking down from the stair's landing.

"My lady, I have a matter to discuss with you," he said. he started up the stairs. "It's on the matter of one of your kin…"

---

One Week Ago, Central Library, the Manehatten Institute for Advanced Studies.

"Investigation of rumors?" asked Scroll, raising one of his eyebrows.

"Yes," said Director Sandwhich. "Have you heard of the disappearance of the Curator of the Whitegold Art Hall?

"Indeed, as well as the warrant for her arrest for taking several missing pieces of art. I read the newspapers Dancer brings back with her…"

"About a month or so ago, yes. She was not the only disappearance."

"What?"

Director Spoke continued. "Two months ago, an Earthborn historian also went missing. And just recently, the former archivist for the Royal Archives has disappeared, right in this city."

"We only just learned of him, living in the slums," said Sandwhich. He shook his grey-maned head sadly. "Alas, we didn't get a chance to contact him before."

"And prior to all those disappearances, there were rumors of a khaki-hued alicorn with night hair, clad in a grey mantle. Various academicians, artists, and even some homeless ponies reporting seeing one. However, none ever got a good look at him," said Spoke.

"Well, there's been rumors like that everywhere since the Lady appeared. What does that have to do with Greenfields?" asked Scroll.

"The Manehatten Police contacted one of the Scholars, one that spends her time solving odd crimes and such. That rather eccentric one you know? Well, she came to Director Sandwhich with the Curator's diary. Of interest were two entries.

"One was dated the night before she disappeared: 'It seems I have made up my mind about this one. His works, his collection of art is vast, it makes the vast museums of Celestia look like a dusty fireplace mantle. I hold his gift in my hooves, wondering if I should accept his offer.' The second was presumably before her disappearance: 'I shall go, the Key will take me to the grey alicorn. I will go where he commands, and do his bidding. I will protect the collection he has accumulated for ponykind, generations to come. I have no need of this record anymore. Farewell.' "

"Sounds like the ravings of a mad mare," replied Scroll.

"Never the less, we became interested… it seems whoever this alicorn is, we have reason to believe he is creating his own Knowledge Vaults. Perhaps a project not unlike our own.

"Greenfields only emphasizes how vulnerable our Work remains. And this mysterious alicorn may provide an answer to that."

"So you want to make contact with this other alicorn?"

"I do not recommend this course of action," said Director Prancer Žemaitukas. He was a brilliant engineer and researcher. However, he had a distain for the mystical. "It's bad enough to deal with this… Alicorn Sweeper. But to have ourselves involved with a mysterious and possibly dangerous force seems illogical. "

"Your opinions are already noted, Prancer. But the Council has already decided to continue with the investigation, which Young Scroll will play a key role," said Sandwhich.

"Me?", said Scroll.

"Yes, because the Scholar that was investigating the Curator went missing a few days ago. And another Scholar that was investigating similar events is also gone. We need to know their fates."

Grimmness Ahead!

He was there again, in the centre of the pit of horror.

Once again the crowds of slaves swarmed and screamed as they desperately battered at the iron door, hooves cracking and keratin splintering, as they desperately fought for life whilst the guards began to slaughter them. He was at the front of it all, suffocated by the pressure of crowds of dying ponies, consumed by the utter feeling of terror, hopelessness and repulsion as they desperately pushed from behind for any form of escape from this hellpit.

The filth, the decay, the stench it was all there again, and the pressure of bodies upon him, he remembered that so well that day, it had been burned into his mind like hot coals. Below him he watched again as an elderly mare was twisted in multiple directions, her ancient bones cracking and snapping at every increase of pressure.

But what terrified him every time was not the stench, the pressure or the screaming, it was the eyes. It was those dark staring eyes which tore their way into his soul and laid it bare, those eyes which showed a terror no pony, not even one of an inferior species, should feel, those eyes of supreme fear.

It was the gaze of the doomed and hopeless.

“We can’t shoot any more of them!” one of the guards shouted back to his comrades “there are too many corpses in the way”.

What a macabre irony, the enemy wasn’t indestructible due to any plan or tactics on their part, the little that were fighting were fighting hoof to hoof, claw to claw, but this was nothing compared to concentrated magical firepower of trained guardsponies.

“Fuck it! We’ll use the gas.”

Oh sweet Celestia, not the gas!

On those words the attempts at escape became more frantic, the door straining with the effort of keeping them back, but it did not buckle that day.

Nor would it ever buckle again.

“Lock off this portion of the dome! Nobody gets out! You there, unseal the canisters and get your counter spells at the ready.”

No! Save me please! Don’t leave me here, not with them!

He struggled through the nightmare of floundering bodies, trying to push himself to the top to be seen, to be heard, anything to indicate there was a unicorn in this mass of degenerates.

“Save me!” he screamed, but to no avail, with a fatalistic thunder the doors closed behind them.

He could already smell the gas.

Desperately he lit his horn, creating a small bubble of air for him to breathe in. Around him earth and pegasi ponies began to choke and wheeze, vomiting up blood and puss as they drowned in their own fluids.

Their bodies twitching spasmodically as they were asphyxiated and poisoned by the tainted air, and through a pink bubble he watched as each eye slowly went dead, the life choked out of them by the unseen horror. He had lived whilst around him others perished and an overwhelming sense of doom and fatality wrested his soul… but not as great as theirs, in there dying eyes he saw the face of nihilism and the primordial expression of doom

He had crawled through the mound of death, desperately trying to break through those slack staring corpses… those bodies which judged him… he must escape… he must escape…

Those eyes…those horrible judging eyes…

He broke through those limp limbs, those silent howling maws. He was reminded by it of a time his father in one of his less abusive spells had taken him to the sea, and he had seen a trawlers catch in a great fishing net. Those dead fish had stared much the same way as these ponies… how disgusting… how… terrible it was.

He lifted the last limb away and squirmed out of the pile like a fat worm which had glutted upon the carcass of the Old Empire. He was almost there… almost… no! Not now… the gas was getting through the bubble, he could feel its effects…. As he slowly stopped…

No!

His magic flickered.

And then it went out.

***

“Uncle?”

He woke up with a start, his eyes wide, taking in a huge intake of air, startling his niece from her worried vigil.

He was back.

Safe.

“Are you alright Uncle?” Honey asked, worry chiselled over her young face, a face which had seen far too much hardship and brutality in her short time on the Earth.

He smiled at her groggily, “I am fine Honey… just a bad dream” he nodded solemnly “A very bad dream...”

But it wasn’t just a dark dream; it had been a reality once, a terrible reality. It must have been tonight’s flight which had opened the gates to those dark years once more, the brutality on that scale was the only thing comparable to that hellish day. He remembered when he first cracked open his eyes to the sound of hospital workers and saw his father there with a sneer of disgust, irrational hatred carved across his face even as his son had been close to death. This had been the first time they had spoken in years, and it would be the last for many more to come.

“You can’t even die properly, can you?”

It was not so much a question, and more a statement.

It was then, at that moment that he had known, there was nothing asides from having his legs and horn blown off for the glory of war against the Earthborn which would make his father give any semblance of approval.

To hell with that bastard.

The experience changed him, for the better or worse he could not tell, but he was not the same person he was when he had entered the slave domes. He had hurt many, yes, practically every pony in this godforsaken world had done things of brutality, a state of near total war did not exist for twenty five years without its crimes… but what had been done there had been a step too deep into the darkness, and the worrying thing was that he could see Moon and Star doing it again. Once he had called for it, aping his father in politics as in many other things in his attempts to gain his approval, but after that he could not hold the same viewed he had once established firmly within his mind.

Perhaps the greatest part of his disillusionment had been the utter purposelessness of the act. The slaves were nearly surrendering by the end of the rebellion, but the guards in a fit of insanity over the loss of friends, comrades and co-workers had not listened… they had just kept… firing.

His research had at least had that, a precise purpose, like the blade of a scalpel in delicate surgery. No matter the cost in its discovery, no matter the result of failure, there had an end goal in sight… a goal of shining immortal angels and the birth of a new golden age for the unicorn race. Even Grunge had been fitted for a purpose of sorts, his actions had been inspired by other causes of course… but he had needed Grunge for a duty… not as a symbol of mindless depravity and violence.

That purpose had changed once again however, from a fanciful idea for supremacists to mutter about, to a direct independent goal in his interest.

A Divine Goal.

*-*-*

The track had been mostly empty along the way, and Scalpel doubted many had escaped the hell that Trottingham had descended into only the night previously. They did however meet the fated cause of the riot along the way. The Griffons had eyed him curiously as he had passed by and he was certain he recognised the ex champion of the Cult, Xerihan. His face had been twisted by melted bronze and with the symptoms of addiction weighing heavy on his eyes, a sorry sight of such an infamous figure. He had returned their gaze with a cold one, a grim look which bordered on hatred, his flesh squirming at their staring eyes.

All that research… wasted, because of them.

He didn’t offer them a lift on the cart driven by the tireless Grunge, the less association he had with the cults traitors the more likely he was to keep his skin from being stretched over a smiling doll. Eventually once they realised that he had not leaked any information on them they would give up the chase… but then again, he was probably severely overlooking the cult’s love of rampant aimless psychopathy.

After that both Honey and he had slept fitfully, Grunge following natural intuition and continuing along the beaten path towards the town of Muddy Hooves. Scalpel had only managed to gather a couple of hours sleep before being awoken again after his nightmare, and felt exhausted after the previous days exertions.

Unfortunately they had taken the wrong road out of the city, although any road of the city by the state that it was in was better than returning to the smouldering pit behind them. So now they were on the Muddy Hooves road, although to be frank it wasn’t a bad last minute choice. Doubtless he could pay for a lift on a merchant barge down the river to the Stormwing border and then use the old Imperial roads through Canterlot province and to Star Harbour. Equestria had become increasingly unsafe for him, and he needed a place to ride out the chaos for a while… perhaps Trotpoli would do, maybe his Niece might enjoy the sunshine.

Grunge was far from inconspicuous however, and there would be many unpleasant questions about his state if he continued onwards unconcealed. With the arrival of dawn, Scalpel blew out the lantern and fitted an old worn cloak over the quasi-metal form of Grunge. Grunge stared at him expressionlessly, as was his nature, accepting whatever was happening with the same reaction practically everything gave him. He was certainly a work of art in terms of magical enhancement, machine, metal and flesh all working together, and with some biological modifications, strength far above even the fittest of Earth ponies. Unfortunately the process had severely decreased his intelligence to that of a young foal, although it was somewhat of a mixed blessing due to the amount of control Scalpel was able to exert over him, but the lack of tactics beyond raw brutality.

It took them most of the day to get to Muddy Hooves, and all the way it was quiet, the only sound of life being the birds and woodland creatures which roamed the forests around them. Once Scalpel thought he had seen a ghostly form betwixt the trees, but he shrugged it off as trickery of the mind. Honey Puzzle amused herself with another of her Uncle’s puzzleboxes, a convenient device which hid his research notes from prying eyes and hooves. Honey Puzzle proved a natural at figuring out the boxes, and so she had contributed in her own way to his research by ensuring their security to all but the sharpest minds. The amount of time it took for her to finish one became indicative of the difficulties in opening them for anyone not naturally gifted in the art. The completed devices also held a number of traps, both magical and physical, which would prove deadly to those foolish enough to try their hooves at one.

He had lost his research once, but never again.

Of course he had memorized it all, but the reassurance of written information was a deep comfort, and ensuring his secrets would stand the test of time aided in softening his unease. A soft click and an “Mmm!” sound of victory met his ears and he saw his Niece open the box with some joy at her conquest. He smiled a little, but his face became pained as they touched upon the stumps which had once been her lower legs.

He would never forgive them for what they had done.

They would all pay in time.

One day he would get them all, all those degenerate mud ponies and take his vengeance upon them with blade and saw.

After all, he had already started counting down by one so far.

On that fateful day he had turned his cause beyond self interests and perhaps for the first time towards unrewarded compassion for another. If his studies ever bore fruit, he would restore her hooves once again… and he would never have to stare at those starred stumps again and feel such guilt for not being there for her in her time of need.

He would make things right, one way or another.

He turned away and a stray thought struck him as the sight of Muddy Hooves crossed into the horizon.

Cruel is the world in which foals suffer for the sins of their fathers.

Interesting gryphons, those two, Theá mused as she watched Xerihan and Ricket walk away. One might think it strange that she didn't have very many of their kind among her followers, and she truthfully didn't know why she had only a hundred or two gryphons in total; not that she cared all that much. She assumed that it was because they were a proud and independent people. They had always seen themselves as exemplary hunters, and when she came and claimed her spot as the top of the food chain and ultimate predator, they became insulted and many turned their backs to her in return. She couldn't help a tiny chuckle at the thought, realising how much they were like her; proud and stubborn.

She stood up and stretched her wings and legs, craning her wing to smooth out a few out-of-order feathers she had spotted out the corner of her eyes. Even as she did so she felt a surge of pride rush through her. She'd always been proud of her speed and agility, and her wings by extension of that. They were large yet narrow, allowing her to easily ride the thermals and air currents. Truthfully, she shouldn't have been able to fly as fast as she did with wings like that; they were normally for long flights, whereas the smaller and narrower wing types were for speed and agility. It was an assumption only, albeit a fair one, but she attributed her incredible speed and manoeuvrability to the large amounts of pegasus magic within her body. She'd always been physically weaker than her siblings, or at least weaker than most of them, thanks to a lower amount of earth pony magic that was made up for in an increase in pegasus magic.

I wonder why Mother created me like this? Was I to be a paragon all things winged? Or just for the pegasi race themselves? To many of them the wings are an object of sexual desire. That thought brought a wide smirk to her lips. She stretched out one wing fully and inspected it, watching how one wing in itself was even longer than her own body length, so long that, when folded against her side, it would still stretch out behind her a bit. That explains why some of my followers oggle me. She shook her head, banishing the thought. Hunt, Wilderness, Wild animals, fertility... All of them are primal in one way or the other. I guess I'm a paragon of what ponies were, and remind them that even if it is primal, there's still pride to be held in it. She would have continued her musings had a voice not interrupted her.

"Theá?"

She folded her wing back and looked at the sand coloured stallion standing here with a serious look on his face. Her brows furrowed and she stood up. It wasn't often that one saw Meelo so serious, and when one did it was usually advisable to listen. "Yes?"

"I just recently caught wind of something. I was following the two gryphons when I got a Ping - a short telepathic message given to Moon and Star scouts," he said, adding the last bit in response to the quizzical look he received from the alicorn. "Anyway, long story short, they're looking for you. Seems like Twilight found out about you and has sent out parties to track you down and capture you, even if only to get a feather or some hair from you for research purposes."

Theá nodded, though tilted her head after. "They're coming for me specifically?"

"No." Meelo shook his head. "You alicorns in general. I received the ping because one such party is nearby, asking fellow moon & star soldiers to send them any information we can. Twilight doesn't know any of you in particular, except for some rumours circling around. Bottom line is, they're looking for you, and I had no choice but to hand over the fact that I had seen you here; they would've known if I had lied." He suddenly pointed to the north east, towards Canterlot. "They're near a small town that way."

"I'm impressed," Theá said out loud, looking impassively down at Meelo, though a small smirk started tugging at the corner of her lips. "You seem to know me well enough that I would seek them out." The stallion just smiled bashfully. "Regardless, thank you for your honesty and the information. I think it's time I go." Her smirk fully appeared now. "Until then."

And just like that, she was gone, having propelled herself into the sky with such force that Meelo almost toppled over from the sheer force of the wind she had pushed around with her wings like a plaything. In no time at all she had reached the skies and soared in the direction Meelo had pointed her to. A few minutes later and she saw what she assumed was the town he had talked about. It was nothing special, likely a thousand of so ponies living there. She touched down a few kilometres from it and walked closer, keeping an eye out for any potential attackers.

They had heard of rumours, he said... What rumours exactly? Hmm... Amaretto told me how he'd heard of rumours about a creature with the wings of a pegasus and the horn of a pony stalking the woods. She could see a small forest south of here; Whitetail Woods. She turned and walked that way, figuring that they would likely search near forests if Meelo had told them that he had seen her.

She didn't get far before she felt a presence in her vicinity, then one more, and another and another. There were ten, at least, and all of them unicorns, which wasn't really that hard to guess given which faction they came from. She had to hold back the urge to turn around and announce the fact that she knew they were there. There was nothing to the naked eye, but she could feel them and knew they were there - she wasn't going to let them know that, however. She stopped walking and simply looked towards the forest, keeping an eye out for anything while attempting to hear them; they were as silent as the grave.

"I know you're there," she finally called after several minutes of just waiting. "Why not drop your enchantments and come forth?" All around her she heard muttered curses as, one by one, ten unicorns came into view, shedding their invisibility spells, and glared at her.

"How'd you know we were here, False God?!" a stallion in front of her challenged, stepping forward with his horn shining bright in what was supposed to be an intimidating sight. To Theá, however, it was simply.

"Pitiful."

The stallion almost balked at her comment, obviously having expected her to either be offended or angry - perhaps even expected her to answer the question. He grit his teeth and glared at the alicorn in front of him, intent on giving her a piece of his mind. She looked young, he had thought, she's just another pony, with wings on her back. Judging by how she looked she could be no older than his own daughter. But as he looked into her eyes, he could not help but feel like the child instead. The weight of the simple gaze she directed at him was enough to halt him. Her body may have been young, but her eyes betrayed an age that he could not even fathom. That, however, wasn't even the worst. He felt so utterly small and powerless from just looking into those deep blue eyes, he felt--He tore his gaze away from her eyes and focused on the base of her horn instead.

"I am not pitiful!" He growled.

"Then why do you refuse to look into my eyes? If you truly claim to not be pitiful, to be more than a mere child then-"

"I am not a child!" He roared and flung a bolt of raw energy at her. Though none could see it, one of the other unicorns rolled her eyes, evidently having seen him lose his temper with such ease before.

Theá hardly blinked and didn’t even seem to bother with recognising the attack as anything but an empty threat. With a quick movement of her wing, she batted the bolt away and sent it rocketing back towards the stallion, only for it to create a small crater right beside him.

He grit his teeth and flung another bolt at her, watchin it sail past her head and not even be close to hitting. “What are you waiting for?!” He shouted, glaring at the other unicorns. “Attack her!” The other unicorns complied and attacked, firing small volleys of attacks at her.

Theá, for her part, kept her cool, although she did light up her horn with a faint green colour. As one, all the bolts fired at her either cancelled out as they met her body or ricocheted off and creating tiny craters in the ground or knocking out some other unicorn.

“That’s it?” She asked, raising an eyebrow as she looked around at the glaring unicorns. Her eyes widened slightly when she spotted a dark shape behind one of thems, only the head visible. Meelo. What’s he doing here? It wasn’t important. She dismissed the thought and returned her attention to the other unicorns. Meelo had proven himself loyal to her, or at least unwilling to go against her since she was his ‘ticket’ to finding Luna again. She didn’t think he’d even so much as try to betray her unless doing so would mean the instantaneous return of Luna. With half a thought, she snuffed out the magic in her horn and let the shield fall. To the mortals it would have looked like she just didn’t get hurt, when in truth the shield had been almost impossible to see when it hugged her body almost like a second skin—she was actually quite proud of that trick.

The unicorn stallion from before growled and poured more magic into his horn, preparing a spell that he knew that would affect even someone who appeared to be invulnerable to other attacks. He pinged the other unicorns and they, too, prepared the spell. Within seconds, each unicorn fired off a thick chain of bright white, each chain wrapping around Theá and holding her fast. Next came six onyx obelisks rising from the ground. Six chains latched onto the obelisks, and the remaining four dug into the ground and her fast. Lastly, from the top of each obelisk, came a thin chain of pure black and wrapped itself around he horn; she could feel it shut off her connection to he magic immediately.

“You won’t get anywhere now,” the stallion sneered and stepped closer, meeting Theá’s gaze yet again. This time he wasn’t so easily intimidated by her gaze. “Third level binding spell; six-pointed onyx star. No one can get out of that; you’ll stand there for the rest of your miserable life!” He cackled loudly, and Theá could not help but think of he had gone mad at some point during the war. “Night Bloom. Go take a sample. Get some from the flank and a few feathers. I’d imagine there’s something special with her cutie mark.”

Nothing they had done before had been enough to anger her, merely enough to irritate her. She could deal with being attacked, as that was often the automatic response by a cornered animal. They were children to her and, as such, she could forgive their folly of attacking her so long as they simply left. That chance was gone now. While she could allow many things, she would not let them take so much as a single feather from her wings.

“No.”

“What do you say?” It was the stallion again. He was grinning widely and triumphantly; it seemed as if he expected her to be helpless. “No? You don’t want your pretty wings touched, do you? Aaaw, that’s sad.” He turned to the mare he had ordered to take the samples. “Go ahead, Night Bloom.”

“No.” Theá narrowed her eyes and let the full weight of her age and divinity crash down on the stallion in front of her. With nary a mental effort, she started pushing magic from her core and into her surroundings, shaking the very air surrounding them. She forced her magic into her horn, weakening and subsequently shatterin the bindings surrounding it. The obelisks shook, as did the ground.

A faint green mist seemed to surround Theá. The earth underneath her caved in, creating a crater with her in the middle.

“I tolerate many things, Mortal, but do not think that I am some ginuea pig for you to make your tests upon!” The chains surrounding her body shook and some even had smaller cracks in them. “You forget one thing, little one.” The chains shattered and she spread her wings wide, creating a shockwave of magic and air that obliterated the obelisks and knocked each of the unicorns off of their hooves. “I am a god!”

With an anger that had not burned in her eyes for longer than she could rememer she stepped out of the crater and up to the stallion who had not only mocked her, but given the order to damage her wings. She lifted him in her magic and brought him to eye level, glaring into those pig-like eyes of his. She almost felt like holding some victory speech or other, declaring herself superior and mocking him like he had mocked her. Instead, she simply glared at him and threw him away. “Run.”

He did as she bid, running as fast as he could once he had found his footing again. He didn’t get far, however, as an arrow of pure blue pierced his heart from behind, courtesy of Theá.

When she turned around towards the other unicorns she realised that her shattering their binding spell had injured them to no small degree. Many of them had shards from the obelisks embedded into their bodies, others had broken limb and two were dead if the lack of breathing and the angle of their head was of any indication.

She snorted and was about to walk away when Meelo appeared in front of her. “Shouldn’t you at least see about them getting some help?” he asked,

“They attacked me, insulted me, threatened to mutilate my wings. This is their fate.”

“And is that a reason for them to suffer a slow and painful death?” he challenged again, looking up at her with a frown. “You pride yourself on being a hunter and predator. What hunter would kill their prey slowly and painfully? Plus, these are not your prey, they are victims of collateral damage!”

I hate when he gets like this. He’ll haunt me until I relent. She snorted again and turned around to the bleeding ponies. A sigh escaped her lips. “Alright. I’ll get help in that town. You do what you can here.” Meelo nodded and she took off, heading for the town, and dearly hoping that there were a doctor or other there that could help the unicorns, or at least keep them alive for a while longer.

It was a matter of minutes before she were there, touching down a few metres from the gate. She walked inside, curious as to the lack of guards posted at the gate. “Is there a doctor here?! I have seven wounded ponies not far away and they need medical attention as quickly as possible!”

No answer.

Strange. This town should have at least a thousand ponies living here. She looked around, tried to peek through windows but finding nothin. She grumbled and continued on, walking towards the centre of the city. It seemed logical, to her at least, that there would be ponies in the centre square if there were none at the edges.

She saw nothing even as she continued towards the centre of the town except for a few shadows that seemingly moved in her peripheral, but she ignored them as she could feel no presences. That, above all, seemed strange to her, and she couldn’t quite keep uncertainty at bay.

The first thing she noticed when she came to the centre square was the large group of ponies bartering goods, discussing prices and some just chatting with each other. These, Theá could feel the presence of which helped reduce her uncertainty with this town. It seemed like all of them had been to the market, small as it was. She’d approximate them to around one or two hundred ponies here.

“Are any of you a doctor?” She asked loudly, immediately gaining the attention of every pony in the square.

One pony in the middle of the group stood up on his hind legs and pointed at her, a strange smile on face. “Oh! You be one of them new alicorns!”

One eyebrow shut up under her mane. “I am. Are you a doctor?”

The stallion laughed. “Oh, we all be doctors here. One way or the other.”

“That’s good. Please follow me, I have ten ponies, three of which are likely dead, who need medical attention immediately.”

The stallion shrugged and shook his head. “Afraid we can’t be of help, Lady Horn-Wing. Would you like to stay instead?”

His way of speaking and nonchelant way of acting was ever so slowly starting to get on her nerves. “I have no intentions of staying here, I have my own agenda but these ponies need help and you’re the only town nearby.”

“Oh-hehe, there’s a reason we be the only one here. Not many like our company.”

That sounds ominous. “And why, pray tell, do ponies not-Agh!” Pain lanced through her body from her her lower back. She whirled her head around and came face to face with a metallic and leathery face covered in spikes, with an unnaturally wide smile plastered on it. It was a Smiling Doll, and one of its scythe like claws had embedded itself into her lower back.

The shadows! They were these things, but not alive. That’s why I couldn’t sense them! She lit her horn and blasted the doll away from her, impaling it on a wall with an arrow through its head.

Golden blood flowed from the wound on her back, stopping only when the wound had closed herself a few seconds later. When she turned back to the throng of ponies her face was a mask of anger. She wasn’t faced with the same ponies as before, however, as all of them seemed to have changed, however subtly; the biggest diference was that all of them now had weapons of one kind or another, many of them held wicked smiles and a few she even had to question as to whether or not they were truly alive with how dead their eyes seemed.

“Cultists!” she snarled, baring her teeth and spreading her wings. “Should’ve known there was something wrong with this town.”

“Oho… Nothing wrong with this town, Lady, just a normal one filled with the laughing ones. Now, everypony! Let’s make the Laughing Mare happy and get her one of these for some fun experiments!” He brandished a long knife and charged forward, followed by the other two hundred, or so, ponies.

The first five were taken down by rapidly fired arrows of blue energy, impaling their brains and often throwing them back into others. She had to stop firing as smiling dolls and other undeads jumped from the roofs and stormed out of the houses. One of the smiling dolls attempted to hug her, but found itself cleaved in two by her wing glowing a soft green. Another was cast away with a quick pulse of telekinesis, impaling more than a few of the other cultists.

This town is swarming with them! she thought as she summoned three tigers that immediately went about mauling the nearest cultists. They were quickly killed by more of those dolls, but half a dozen cultists had been killed before the tigers died. Meanwhile, Theá had received more cuts and bruises than she cared to admit. Her inability to sense the presence of the undead ones proved quite an annoyance they tended to come for behind, too.

A powerful blast of pure force sent ten cultists flying and cleared her way down a street. She galloped away, trying to gain some distance to allow herself to shoot them down rather than fight in close quarters. She could just fly, but she’d rather run just to see if she could find any normal ponies. The few she found were already dead, and some even lounged at her, trying to bite her.

Nothing but cultists here. How was this place not discovered earlier? A earth pony wearing what looked like Earthborne armour lounged at her, only to be crushed between a building’s wall and her wing. Guess that answers it. The parties that discovered this place disappeared.

Several minutes later and there seemed to be no end to the cultists. No mattter how many she impaled, crushed, or tore apart, there were almost more to take their spot; for each one she killed three new appeared. She found herself at the edge of the city, having surrounding herself with a barrier to allow her wounds to heal before she went out there again.

She looked at her left wing. It had taken quite a beating, one of the Dolls having almost gotten a clean cut on it. She was just glad she’d moved out of the way in time to—pain lanced through the self-same wing as she scythe-like appendage of a smiling doll came into view. She looked up with her eyes widened in shock and came face to face with the smiling doll.

Her face contorted in rage and hardly a shred of it remained from the furious blast of power she sent at it. Behind it she could see several unicorn cultists, still living, working on her barrier. They had managed to create a small opening to allow the doll inside. That, however, wasn’t her biggest concern at the moment. Her eyes were transfixed on her wing, or what was left of it. Her pride and joy was lying on the ground, severed from her body by that doll.

Theá would say that few things could make her angry, and among those were losing or being belittled. Another thing, as the cultists found out, was having her wings damaged.

A bestial roar ripped from her throat as she pushed magic through her body, boosting her generative abilities until a new wing grew where the old one had been cut off. With a face set in a ferocious snarl and eyes already shining a bright white. Her wings spread and she took off, shooting towards the skies as arcs of energy crackled around her body. Her horn was like a beacon, shining a brilliant green whose mad crackling seemed angry itself.

You have messed with me for the last time, Cult!

Time seemed to stop. The skies above her stood still, waiting, and even the world itself seemed to hold its breath in pause. Her eyes locked onto the centre of the city, making even the undead in that city shiver at the sense of dread that overtook them in that second.

The skies opened, the clouds parted, and Theá unleashed her might, damning the city and cursing it for its transgression against her and the world. Magic washed off her body as she brought to bear her full power upon those who dared challenge the Gods and the laws of their Mother.

“मौत के लिए चिह्नित: शिकारिका का क्रोध!”

A column of light so large that it would be visible from even the northern mountains shot down from the skies, covering the city in its entirety, obliteraing it and everything within its borders. Every cultist was turned to ask, every Doll was shattered to metallic fragments. The houses were shattered and the ground itself seemed to evaporate.

When finally, after an entire half minute, the light died away, Theá landed on the outskirts of the crater she had created, panting hard as she looked across the destruction she was the cause of.

She felt drained and tired, the spell having taken out a large chunk of her energy. She was certain that her siblings had felt, if not seen, the amount of power she had unleashed. For now, however, she didn’t care what they’d do. She just wanted to rest and let her anger subside lest she destroy someone innocent.

Water splashed against Reaver’s hooves as he stepped off the longboat. Half ten other ponies started to get out of the boat as well as he walked up the beach. The golden furred Pegasus took a deep breath of the night air and cackled,’ Tonight’s a good night for some bloodshed.’

“Are you sure you’ve never been in the Cult?”

Reaver glanced at Swansong with a manic grin stretching across his muzzle,” Nope didn’t pass the psychological exam.”

Reaver laughed at his joke but Swansong took a step back from him,” Ok keep your distance up to ten feet form me and I won’t make you a pin cushion. Alright you sorry excuses for sailors let’s get this over with!”

“Yes ma’am,” he crew sounded off. Reaver looked to his crew and gave a nod before going to follow her. Every single member of his crew gave him a grin. They knew what to do. It was time to collect on what they sold.
Swansong and Reaver’s joint crews made it to Star Harbor within the hour. The town was quiet, peaceful. From this side of Moon and Star’s territory they rarely saw the horrors of the war that raged on the mainland. Life was almost as it had been before the Houses rose to power save for the flow of slaves that came here on their way to Canterlot.

Reaver flew to above the wall that surrounded the town and landed on its edge. A legionnaire unicorn was near one of the battlements with his back to Reaver. The pegasus flew up behind him and pressed his crude hoofblade against the stallion’s throat.

“Night-night,” Reaver opened the stallion’s throat as he tried to rear back and knock the pegasus off. He laid the body down gently and looked over the edge signaling the rest of them to come up. Diving hooks latched onto the stone battlements.

Swansong was the first up. She looked to the across the town and spotted the docks. Ships were moored and rocking gently in the ocean. Suddenly the large harbor was lit up by cannon fire. Swansong smirked,’ Time to go to work.’
“Open fire!” Softstep yelled and the sound of cannon fire rocked the once peaceful night air. The Leviathan lit its lanterns and made its presence known. The Widowmaker sailed beside the massive ship and emptied its payloads with equal enthusiasm.

Unicorns could be seen scrambling to the boats that were moored on the docks. Several ships were already moving to meet the two hostile ships. Suddenly water rocked one of the smaller ships, overtook it and the boat capsized.

Softstep looked at Crashing Wave just as his horn stopped glowing. She cocked an eyebrow at him,” No one-liners? I’m shocked.”

Crashing chuckled,” Yer a funny one lass. I’ll keep them boats off ye tail.”

With that he jumped into the water and sped off toward the approaching ships. Softstep felt a twinge of unease as she looked at the truly meager amount of ships in the harbor. Star Port was where the naval strength of Moon and Stars resided. She didn’t like his situation on bit. It was all too easy. A massive flare shot up into the sky. Softstep’s eyes widened at the sight of the flare. They were early!

Crashing Wave burst out of the water, water funneling around him as he landed in the center of the lead ship. He whipped his blades out and took a swipe at the nearest pony. Crashing stopped dead in his tracks though when he realized it wasn’t a unicorn he was about to kill but an earth pony. The poor wretch had been chained to the deck with several others. They cowered away from him and he dropped his blades. He had almost killed a slave. He looked out to the boat he had capsized; horror crawled across his face when he spotted the floating bodies of slaves. These ponies had been bait.

Suddenly the harbor was flooded with blinding light. Sun cannons dotted the tops of buildings in the docks. Idols of Sun and Moon floated across the water at a lazy pace toward the charging Dauntless. Crashing watched helplessly as the ship was bombarded with magic blasts from the constructs. The Dauntless return fire but to no avail. The massive boat sunk all the same.

Earlier
Swansong and Reaver made it through he town with little trouble. The unicorn found it unsettling how they had met almost no resistance getting into the town and to its center. Reaver’s crew started setting up the flare.

“Wait,” Swansong told them,” Lets secure this area first.”

“I believe the area is secure enough,” Reaver cackled,” Do it.”

With that the flare went up. Swansong grabbed Reaver by his collar and hissed,” What are you doing it isn’t time yet!”

“Oh I believe it was traitor.”

A green magic barrier shot up over the small square and a force of unicorn legionnaires. They held spears pointed at the ragtag group of pirates. An Inquisitor stepped forward, a smug look on his face.

“Good work.”

“What can I say?” Reaver said,” I’m good at what I do. Now about my-“A spear ripped through his throat and he fell to the ground with a strangled gurgle.

“Like I would actually pay you vermin,” the Inquisitor sniffed and walked up to Swansong,” Now then-“ A steel dagger flashed across his muzzle effectively cutting his tongue out of his mouth. He reared back with a wet scream, blood pouring form his mouth. Swansong slammed the dagger into his throat and twisted it cruelly, ending his life.

“Raise arms if you value your life,” Swansong screeched as she pulled two more daggers from their sheaths and sent them flying at the legionnaires. Both daggers found their mark in one’s eye socket and another’s throat. The other pirates jumped to action and rushed the legionnaires. For their part the unicorns met them with equal force and a bloody battle begin inside the shield dome.

“Couvrez vos oreilles!” Swansong shouted as her horn began to glow.

The pirates knew what was about to happen and clopped their hooves over their ears. The cerulean unicorn took a deep breath and let loose an earsplitting wail. The legionnaires fell to the ground screaming in pain as the magically induced screech destroyed their eardrums. The shield fell a second later. Swansong panted from the magical exertion, sparks flying from her horn. Her first mate gave her a concerned look but she gave him a nod . without a word she and her crew galloped toward the docks. They made it just in time to see the Dauntless sink to the bottom of the harbor. Swansong’s eyes flooded with tears as she watched her Love go down into the Sea.
“NOOOO!”

Crashing Wave shook with rage at the sight of the Dauntless sinking. The sea began roil and churn in response to its masters rage. He launched himself into the sky. Crashing pulled water from the sea and formed a ring of it in front of him. With scream of rage he sent the ring of water spinning at one of the Idols. The ring of water sliced through the construct, splitting it in half and it fell into the harbor. The second Idol turned to meet this new threat. Tendrils of water shot up out of the sea and pulled the Idol down. Once the construct was submerged Crashing crushed it under an immense amount of pressure.
Crashing wave, blind with rage, flew out over the docks intent to destroy the unicorns. A harpoon attached to a chain shot up into the air and caught Crashing Wave through his wing. He yelled out in pain and crimson blood ran down the chain’s length. It started to pull him to the ground and Crashing flapped his free wing frantically. Another harpoon shot up and skewered his other wing and he hit the ground. Crashing felt powerful Binding spells form around him.

“We have you now false god.”

Crashing looked up to see a six unicorns standing before him, their horns were glowing as they formed the Binding spells that were meant for him. Crashing felt the spells take hold; each in its right was strong, very strong. Crashing rose to his hooves, the spells straining to hold him down. The unicorns all shared a shocked expression as Crashing Wave rose to his full height. His eyes held untold wrath at the unicorns before him.

“Ye used slaves as bait, killed loyal members of me crew and now ye insult me by tryin ta use Binding Spells on me,” Crashing Wave’s tone was like the calm before the storm.“Νερό αρχαίο και ισχυρό προσοχή κλήση μου.” Mana poured off the alicorn as he began chanting, the spells fought to stop him. Τερματίσει αυτές τις άθλιες ψυχές πριν από μένα.” Water began to recede from the harbor and into the Sea. “Οργή της θάλασσας!”

The spells that held Crashing shattered thus sending the unicorns flying back. They picked themselves up and got into a battle stance but shuddered at what they saw. A massive tidal wave was heading toward Star Harbor,” Ye’ve angered th’ Gods mortals,” Crashing said with a finality to his tone,” Time for ye an' yer ilk paid fer their crimes.”

The tidal wave hit the harbor. The unicorns scrambled to get away but were swept up in the torrent of water. The boats in the harbor were spared form the tidal wave and those who bore Crashing’s mark would survive but any that dwelled in Star Harbor would meet their end. Crashing ripped the harpoons from his wings and swam up. Blood followed after him but the water hurried his healing until not even a scar remained on his massive wings. Crashing Wave flew into the sky and watched as his sea consumed the town. He then set his sights toward the mainland. It had been many an eon since he had ventured from his beloved Sea but he knew he would do little good here. It was time for him to go upon the land.

About twenty feet away from the gates of Appleloosa, Torrential suddenly came to a halt as he head sharply turned towards the North-east.

A lot of power was being used by his fellow Alicorns, but whom exactly it was that was doing it was next to impossible to tell; the signals were too far away and appeared to be interfering with each other to much to get a firm idea of who was involved. However, if he squinted just right he could swear that he could see some kind of bright light on the horizon...

It was at this point that the boom had reached Appleloosa, a firm second to light once again. Distance must had softened the impact a great deal, but still a loud but single clap of thunder roared past the city. Considering that the night sky was clear of clouds, it truly did seem to come out of nowhere. It was certainly enough to make the residents of the Earthborn capital jump a little in confusion.

Even from the distance he was at, Torrential could hear the discussion between the guards at the gate as they stared off towards where the strange light had come from. It wasn't really much of a conversation to listen to, since all it seemed to be was a series of 'What the fuck was that?'' and 'No idea', but the hooded and cloaked alicorn couldn't exactly fault them for it; one or more alicorns had just unleashed their full power to wipe something off of the face of the world, alongside anything that most likely was under it and over it as well.

Shaking his head a little to put whatever surprise and concern for his brother or sister that suddenly felt the need to reshape the world, Torrential proceeded towards the gates. Glancing between the different guards, his eyes landed on the one female Pegasus that was among the ground. Walking towards her, he cleared his throat in an attempt to get her attention politely. Considering that her eyes remained on the horizon, it quickly became clear that he had failed to do this.

Sighing a little, the alicorn rose his hoof and lightly tapped her on the shoulder. The physically touch broke the spell over her, bringing her attention to him at last with a look of surprise and slight embarrassment. "Oh sorry..." Shaking her head to get it together, she seemed to narrow her eyes in thought as she started to ask "Hey, don't I know you from..." before catching herself and forcing herself into a more professional mindset. "Nevermind. Name?"

"Torrential Waters." Torrential answered without a hitch, offering the mare a small, encouraging smile as he let her do her job.

"Your business in Appleloosa?"

"I seek to make and attend an appointment with Ms Applejack."

The guard mare seemed to be slightly taken aback by this answer. Clearly it wasn't one that came up all that often. "In relation to what?" She asked, clearly defaulting to a prepared list of questions that needed to be asked.

"In relation to a couple of things, the primary being about the rumors of alicorns that seem to be appearing out of the woodwork." He answered with that same, encouraging smile that betrayed nothing else. The winged guards mare blinked a little before clearly considering a couple of things before nodding her head and moving to press a button in a small guard station. With a slight buzzing sound ringing out for a moment, the gates slowly started to open.

"Do you need any help finding the Halls of Stone?" The mare asked, feeling the need to help out someone who she felt she had met before. Once Torrential nodded his head, she gave him a series of directions that would take him to the Halls of Stone, noting that at this hour they would be closed to all but the most vital of messages.

Nodding his head in understanding and giving the guard pony a warm and heartfelt "Thank you." The hat wearing, cloaked Torrential walked into the city of Appleloosa with the gate closing behind him quickly enough. Following the directions that he had been given through the maze like streets, Torrential soon found himself sitting himself down and resting against the wall of a courtyard in front of a large, very important looking building. He wasn't in a hurry and thus decided to take the chance to have a bit of a nap while he waited for dawn to rise.

Sweeper's ears perked as she faintly felt Thea's magic. Of course, being one of the less powerful alicorns, she could not tell what it was, never the less who it was. She knew of the general direction, to the north. She had though she seen, faintly, a haze of bright light in that distance shortly before, followed by the faint sound of thunder.

"Whatever it was, it was powerful", thought Sweeper. She had no powers of telepathy or the ability to sense her kin from a distance. Yet whatever magic occurred, even that she felt.

"My Lady, what's the matter?", asked Gildenstride. They were seated at the table on top of the flat rooftop of the Palace. The stars shone brightly, and the moon lit the world in a glow. In the presence of the alicorn, the sight was even more breathtaking.

"Hmmm, oh something in the air," Sweeper said. Her thoughts rapidly went back to Scroll. "But back to the topic - you want to know about my kin?"

"Well, yes, in regards to the events I mentioned before," said Scroll. He had explained the situation to her as they went up the stairs.

"Hmmmm, I don't really know the plans of my brothers and sisters. They came to this mortal realm for their own causes, which they didn't tell me. Though I could guess at what they want."

Sweeper lay her head on the table and closed her eyes. Moonlight reflected off her denuded scalp, and had any pony noticed, so did her Cutie Mark of four-interconnected rings. Star Dancer smiled at the sight, noting how peaceful the alicorn looked.

What are my kin doing?, Sweeper thought to herself. Scroll brought me plenty of tales, but little evidence. And I had not meet up with any of them. Was that light-?

Sweeper suddenly opened her eyes and lifted her head. Her advisers looked at the alicorn, whose eyes were filled with inspiration. At last, she's come up with something , thought Scroll.

"So Scroll, did you pick up any girlfriends at the Baths today?", Sweeper asked.

Gildenstride laughed, and Dancer was so shocked she had dropped the tea she was holding. Scroll blushed so much his coat seemed to turn red. Before the tea could land on the table, the Alicorn repelled the spray and it disappeared into the air.

"That… that… not what we're here to talk about, Sweeper!", sputtered the Scholar.

"But you could at least ask them for a date after you're ogling them," said the Lady of Tidiness.

"Oh, Wow. Not even 35 and you're already acting like an old lecher," said Dancer.

"I was… um… just pondering why so many decide to follow the Lady's… style!", said Scroll. "Quite a few have taken to the bald look. In fact, a recent letter was sent by one cult having a dispute over it. One said everyone who follows the Lady must be shorn, others disagree."

Sweeper resumed resting her head on the table, but took interest in the change of topic. Fortunately , thought Scroll.

"Well, I don't really mind if they have manes or not. Hair is beautiful and can be kept clean, but so can having no mane as well," said the Alicorn. "But mostly, it depends on if they look adorable or not."

"If I may ask," Dancer spoke ", why do you have no mane? I mean, as a divine being, shouldn't your hair just as wonderful as the other Alicorns are rumored to be?"

Sweeper tilt her head to one side. "Well Danny, every time I wake up, my mane was always such a mess. Tangled and unkempt, plus it took time to maintain. Time better spent on my mission. I just got fed up with it and decided it was easier without the mane."

Scroll wondered how an Alicorn would have mane problems, but he decided he needed to press on with more important matters.

"My Lady, do you know if any of your kin would be interested in academic matters?", he asked.

Her mind rapidly thought back to the question. Well, Wavy wouldn't be interested in scholarship, unless it had to do something with the sea. And that probably be charts and navigation at most. Thea… does the Huntress even read anything? Need to ask sometime, oh must bring her some cake! Rain, is alone by himself a lot, so maybe he likes some companionship. If he didn't move so much, I'd send him letters. Ami did love to study, but it was mostly warfare and martial skills - if anything she would have taken someone from a dojo or a military academy. And Arc… of course!

She smiled. "Now I've got it! It's Arc! I remember him mentioning books as gates sometimes. He would be the one gathering academics, if only to help him."

"Help him with what?"

"I have no idea… I just thought Arc came to make sure ponies had better doors or something."

Scroll wanted to fall to the ground at that. "Well, at least you have an idea were to start," said Gildenstride. "Now all the lady has to do is use her powers to sense him…"

"Um what?", asked Sweeper.

"Don't you have the power to sense the other alicorns?"

Sweeper shook her head. "Well, no. In fact, I don't think many of my kin do, just a few."

"Hmmm, I guess the old legends were a bit off," Dancer said.

"Well, if we don't know where this Ark is, where do we begin?"

Sweeper then had another inspiration. "I have an idea, but it'll require another journey to follow up."

"Speaking of which, my Lady, but I'd like to assign a bodyguard to you," said the Town Watchpony. "Scroll has told me of his adventures… and they sound very dangerous."

"No problem, I'm sure Scroll will love the company," said Sweeper.

"Alas, I can not go myself," said Gildenstride with sadness. For the first time in decades he was serving an alicorn again, yet the Town had to be his first duty.

"You have a job to do, and a very important one at that. I thank you for it." Sweeper's words brightened the Guard.

Scroll sighed at the words "another journey". Yet again being tossed into the fire.

The journey had been languid until the border for the most part, the fast travelling river providing much needed rest for Scalpel and his niece, as well as some of the last portions of untarnished scenic beauty in Equestria. The barge master had not asked questions when he paid for transport to the border, doubtless he had been involved in illegal activities for some time and this had proven to be nothing new to him.

Grunge had also been accepted in a way by the crew too, so long as he kept to himself and remained quiet the crew did nothing more than flick suspicious glances at him from time to time. frankly he was far too interested in playing with a wooden toy and splashing at the water to cause much of a fuss.

For his part Scalpel had decided to dig through one of the half remaining collections of ancient lore whilst keeping a watchful eye on Honey whilst she dozed in a chair out in the sunshine, blissful in the warmth of the day. It was moments like this when she enjoyed peaceful dreams that all the hardships and turmoil’s of the world dropped away from her face; she became innocent again, free from pain and terror of waking life.

Turning back the book he dug into the great epics of the pre-equestrian age, a world not dissimilar from their own, in a way. Perhaps this was the way it had always been, had Pax Equestria simply been a fabrication, a false idea planted in the heads of ponies because of the gentle hearts of the Diarchy. Perhaps their greatest failure was in creating a system of government so reliant upon them that it could not survive without their constant maintenance.

As the sun sunk lower in the horizon, the chill of night crept up on them, but they were nearing their destination at least. Soon they would be on the Imperial road and make their way to Star Harbour and see about a trip to Trotpoli and away from the never ending cycle of war in Equestria. His studies would perhaps falter, but he could probably pick up further research in the morgues of Trotpoli, even if live subjects were generally easier to examine and gain precise details on than the dead.

He paused for a second; did he really wish to leave his studies behind in Equestria? After all he had been through and the uncountable difficulties to get this far, it seemed his studies on the fundaments of magic and ways to expand it beyond natural proportions was drawing close to an epiphany… he felt a tug which he hadn’t ever felt before, almost as if something was suggesting that an enlightening of the world awaited beyond the next corner…. It was hellishly tempting.

He turned to gaze at Honey, he had wrapped his coat around her shoulders as the night chill came in and she had snuggled into it adorably. What about Honey? Scalpel knew he couldn’t go gallivanting around the country digging into things most people would consider blasphemous without considerable danger, Trottingham had been proof of that. How could he do such a thing and risk the life of Honey? Was he not responsible for her? How long before someone finally managed to get to her before he could stop them… like they had before…

On the other hoof, if he achieved success, if his studies in Divinity and the expansion of biological magic were correct he could protect her eternally, safe forever from foulness and those who would wish to harm her. But such powers might come with a considerable cost, perhaps he would only have one shot at it… perhaps he would perish like Twilights attempt… or come back a monstrosity from the abyss like Pinkie pie. Furthermore there were other possibilities to consider, including loss of self or perhaps even physical mutilation… many risks, but great rewards if successful…

Suddenly the new night was broken by a piercing bolt of golden light to the west, a pillar of cosmic fire which boomed like the father of thunderclaps and lit up and destroyed a decaying city Scalpel recognised as Old Hoof. The wind roared and the power of the blast shook both water and earth, felling trees miles from where it had struck. The power of a raging god had been unleashed that night and all would know and see from the farthest regions of Equestria.

Awestruck, Scalpel quoted something he had seen long ago in a copy of an ancient book of Hideu scriptures from thousands of years ago.

“Maheshwarastra… a cosmic flaming beam of destruction from heaven itself… someone must have truly angered one of the new gods to have such fury unleashed upon them…”

Whilst he had stared, overwhelmed by the majesty of the pillar of fury, the crew ran around squawking orders to pull into land before they destabilised, Honey, awoken by the frightful din of apocalyptic anger stood next to him, nestled in one of his hooves as the observed the power from afar in a mixture of terror and fascination. Behind them, Grunge clanged his hooves together in approval, beginning to pace back and forth in excitement.

It seemed like utter madness the next thought that occurred to him, but it drew him all the same, like the rapturous wonder of light before a moth.

I must go there.

***
They had made quick progress towards the town, or at least what was left of it, Scalpel was physically wheezing at the pace he had been going at, whilst Honey and Grunge followed more easily, mostly due to Grunge allowing himself to be used as a carrier for Honey. Scalpel might have laughed at the sight if other things had not pressed at his mind, like physical exhaustion of sprinting towards the now fading blast of light in an unquestionable urge to know.

He had tried to convince Honey to stay behind at the Barge with Grunge, but she had adamantly refused to be parted from him and so he had reluctantly conceded. The barge itself had survived with only a few dents and scratches, and he had paid them handsomely to remain where they were for the meanwhile whilst he investigated. They thought he was mad as a brush, but the gold was good and they seemed safe for the moment, with no other heavenly fire descending from the sky.

Eventually he reached the outskirts of the town… or at least what was left of it. The place looked like the gateway to Tartarus, a patch of earth burnt to a crisp. Anything flammable now seemed to be smouldering or burning and great plumes of smoke were beginning to rise from the pit. Twisted bodies lay on the ground in all directions, but it did not seem that they had been innocent victims, the taint of the cult covered so many. He signalled Honey and Grunge to wait at the edge as he moved into the inner city to investigate. Honey looked like she was about to object, but a look from him silenced her; it was too great a risk.

He travelled deep into the ruins of the city and shivered at some of the twisted things which had once been ponies… or worse. The place had clearly been crawling with Smiling Dolls, their scythe like wreckage coated the land in deadly spikes and macabre grinning heads, now burnt to nothing. Something crawled out of one of the pits, it was a Doll, but its back legs had been crushed. It still moved towards him with surprising speed, but magic put an end to it as he crushed its skull like an egg.

Scalpel explored the city more thoroughly but it seemed as if whatever had leveled the place had long since departed, a sudden wind however blew a plume of smoke away just in time for him to catch something on the far edge or a little beyond the city. Curious he paced forward to investigate, and the form became more and more distinct. It was a figure which almost looked as if it was… sleeping? As he advanced towards it and as the smoke cleared it became clearly visible. It seemed to be nestled on the edge of the destruction zone, and despite all the ash and cinders, the figure was almost pristine… asides from patches blood which matted portions of fur on figures body... but there was only one sign of injury, which to his amazement healed within seconds to reveal an unblemished coat. He realised it was a she, a brilliant turquoise or aqua green mare Alicorn which a tight braid through both mane and tail… which almost suggested a warrior or huntresses pragmatism. She had amazingly large wings, far bigger than any pegasi, or even that of the Celestial sisters… perhaps she had an association with beings of the air?

On drawing closer openly, but slowly as not to suggest an imminent threat, he saw that the blood stains suggested deep incisions and lacerations, most likely that of Smiling Dolls. They were some of the most difficult injuries to heal, even with unicorn magic but this... this was astounding, there was nothing there.

"remarkable" he spoke breathlessly.

What amazed him even more was the blood, it was bright gold, glowing with inner power of a celestial being… majestic… beautiful… a book of knowledge yet unknown to pony science or study. The scientist told him to collect and analyse and study without moral obligation… but the doctor won the battle and he resigned himself to having to ask permission first, such was the cost of common equity over compulsive passionate action.

Drawing back slightly so he was fully in front of the Alicorn mare he spoke up, almost timidly, but with an undercurrent of scientific excitement.

“Uh… Miss… Um, Alicorn?… I am a doctor… do you, uh… require assistance? ”

What was this city? What was its purpose? Why was it here? What had happened to its original inhabitants? So many questions swarmed Theá's mind, each of them vying for her attention and trying to push all the others away. Why had she reacted so violently? Was there any innocents caught in the devastation? Had she been the course of innocent deaths? She hoped not. She really did not hope that her rage had been the course of innocent blood being spilled... but then again, there was nothing she could've done if that was the case. The town had been swarming with cultists, alive or dead, walking or crawling. How could anyone but a god have survived in there? She sighed and rested her head on her hooves, closing them for a brief moment.

She had half a minute's rest before a voice she recognised all too well piped up from beside her. "How're you doing?" it asked, with genuine concern filling the voice.

Theá opened her eyes and looked to the side, meeting the eyes of a concerned Meelo. "Tired," she replied with a small grunt. "That wasn't easy."

"I didn't think it was, either." He mumbled something unintelligible after that and looked over the crater. "What happened?"

Theá sighed, seeing no way out of this. God or not, she wouldn't just ignore the questions... especially not when it was about this. She valued Meelo's loyalty to her and the information he gave her about the Moon & Star going on's. Not telling him what had happened might make him think she had slaughtered innocents. She didn't want him, or anyone, to think that. Shuffling her wings into a more comfortable position, and subsequently hissing from a wound that had yet to close, she told him what had happened.

"I walked into the city and found no one. I looked around, even called for a doctor but received no response. What's worse, I could feel no presences whatsoever in there. There seemed to be no ponies there, but I kept seeing shadows out the corner of my eye. I dismissed them seeing as I sensed nothing." She chuckled. "Godly arrogance comes and bites me in the flank. Just like some mythologies, eh? Regardless, I continue towards the centre of time and eventually come upon a group of two hundred or so ponies. I asked if any of them were doctors and one stallion says that all of them are to some degree. I ask some to follow me because of the ten unicorns that I injured. He says no, I ask why, and a Smiling Doll attacks me... How are the unicorns doing, by the way?"

Meelo seemed somewhat surprised at the quick change of subject, but answered nonetheless. "They're fine. The seven that weren't killed outright at currently waiting for medical aid. I had to put them all under a sleeping spell since they didn't want to stay still, however... they wanted to go after you even after you had shattered their binding spell." He paused, looked at the debris filled crater again, then looked back to Theá's prone form. "What happened then?"

The alicorn sighed and looked out at the smouldering ruins as well. "I killed the Doll, and when I turned back towards the group of ponies they were all carrying weapons, and then charged at me. I had no choice but to fight as more undead and other dolls stormed out from the houses surrounding me and started attacking. I killed several, crushed, cut and impaled, but they kept coming. It continued like that for what felt like half an hour before I secluded myself in a barrier to let my wounds heal before I continued fighting. While I had been fighting, I had also been running around the town, searching for any survivors or non-cultists, but I didn't find any. While I was within my barrier, I was nursing my wing which had got a nasty cut. I was too preoccupied with watching the wound slowly heal that I didn't notice some of the living unicorns among the cultists create an opening in my barrier. A Smiling Doll made its way through and swung at me, cutting my wing clean off. It clicked for me, I lost it and I unleashed my full power which lead to this. It took away what I'm the most proud of, and I would stand for it no more... so I killed everything in the town."

Meelo nodded. It made sense, he thought, that she would lose it over her wing being cut off. He'd seen her take good care of them, and the fact that she flew so often was a good sign that she was proud of them, and liked flying. "Alright... Guess there's nothing we can do for them, then. Unless you have any ide-"

"Meelo. Hide, somepony's coming." Meelo obeyed, taking on his Nightmare form and sinking into the ground.

Theá lay still as the presence neared her. She'd been lying still ever since she had decimated the town in front of her; recuperating, regaining her strength and waiting for her wounds to heal. She cracked an eye open and looked at the carnage before her, surveying the area before her, noting the burnt corpses, destroyed buildings and, most of all, the massive crater it was all huddled in. Mortals do make quite the sturdy structures, she mused, wondering how exactly she had created a city-wide crater but hadn't destroyed every house. A faint smile tugged at the corners of her lips, but fell away again as the pony she had sensed before came into view and walked up to her. She had closed her eyes again once he got within sight of her.

When he finally addressed she opened her eyes and raised her head, looking him dead in the eyes; her deep blue ones piercing his lighter blue. While she was exhausted, she wouldn't let this mortal know to just what extend. She knew, however, that she still had more than enough power to squash him should be prove, well, not a threat, but a nuisance and obstacle.

"Doctor, you say?" She raised an eyebrow, challenging him to deny the claim. "Yes, and no. I am in no need of help. Others, however, are." She stood up and quivered her wings, getting the blood flow going. Her horn lit and the blood covering her body lifted off of her body and formed a blob in front of her which then burned away until nothing remained. If there was one thing Mother told us, it was to not just let our blood and feathers stay behind if we ever got wounded. To the stallion she said. "Not far off, there are a group of ten unicorns, three of which are dead, that needs medical attention. If you're a doctor, please follow me and help them." She turned around and took a half dozen steps towards where she knew the unicorns were located, then stopped and craned her neck behind her, looking at the unicorn stallion, and raised an eyebrow. "Well?"

Already getting stoic and borderline arrogant again. You sure do recover fast, Theá, Meelo thought with a proverbial eyeroll from his position beneath her, hiding in her shadow.

Vast Vista came to the town of Star Harbor for two reasons. One was to find a place with beautiful scenes to paint, and the town was a perfect place to do so. It's ships were majestic and the city had a great view of the ocean. The second was to continue to work of the Scholars there, by gathering information and making contacts with the smugglers. Her brother was going to join her, but the Order had more work for him.

"Gotta go down to Greenfields with Professor Sweet," Charter had said a month ago. "Once that's done, I'll come straight here." The two unicorns were close, ever since their father was killed helping the order protect it's Knowledge.

Vista was sleeping when she awoke to the sounds of cannon fire. She opened her windows, and was amazed that in the moonlight stood a armada of ships, and two Sun and Moon Idols in battle. Beams of light seared pony and deck, ponies drowning in the harbor, the air filled with blasts. A stray cannonball hit a warehouse that was on the docks, shattering it's walls.

"I have to get out of here," Vista said, closing the shutters. She grabbed a cloak and a satchel - she learned early that she needed to be prepared for any rapid escape. As she left, Vista passed the paints and canvas that was working on. They depicted the sunrises and nightscapes of the city, all done in bright lovely oils.

She exited the apartment she was renting, and went down the hall and the stairs in rapid speed. She had an escape route prepared, and decided to get out of town. Whoever was trying to invade, she didn't want to stay to know their intentions. Vista got to the street, and trotted at full speed down the road. It went past a small beach, when she turned her head and looked.

She gasped. The ocean had receded from the harbor.

Shocked, she snapped herself out of the daze and continued her run. But then she soon heard a roar from the beach. A monstrous, terrible sound that was rushing at high speed. Vista turned her head, only seconds as the tidal wave hit her.

---

In his dreams, Scroll remembered the last moments before going to sleep. He was admiring his impeccable penmanship on fine parchment, but frowned at the contents of the letter. After dinner, Sweeper wanted one dictated to her brother Torrential Waters, which she referred to as "Rain". The letter was very wordy, almost going onto four pages. And almost all of it was random musings but little substance. The whole of the work could have been summed up thusly:

Hi Rain, I'm doing good, CAKE!, My underling too scared to ask a date, Do you have a camera? Take pictures! Also, do you have an interest in scholarly studies? Have a have good day!

At least she remembered to ask about the disappearances, thought Scroll. "Star Dancer is going to Earthborn territory tomorrow - overtly as a courier for Dean Iron Spoke from the farming colleges in Whitegold. But it may take time for the letter to get to your kin - we don't know his exact location, save for the tales we heard."

"Well, I've been meaning to write to him, he seems so lonely," said Sweeper.

He couldn't quite remember the rest, say going to the pile of sheets that served as his bed. But now something seemed odd - what was a breezeless night now was howling wind. In fact, he felt the cool air brush over his whole body. Did I forget to close the window? , he thought. He was about it get up, when he realized he couldn't move his legs.

Scroll opened his eyes and saw the stars and vast night above. He looked to his side and saw one of Sweeper's wings and the fast moving landscape many meters below.

"What in Celestia's name is going on!", he screamed.

"Oh, morning Scroll," said Sweeper, turning her head briefly to him. She was going as fast as she could, passing over the forests and plains of Equestria. He looked at his body - it was wrapped in sheets, and he was tied down to the alicorn's back.

"Morning! Well it's one discord of a morning!", he replied. "What am I doing here flying!"

"Well, I decided to check out a strange light I noticed in the north, maybe Northeast. I felt something in that direction during dinner."

"Was it really necessary to drag me out of bed? And why didn't you wake me up?!"

"It was only after you went to your slumber that I realized that it could be one of my kin in trouble. That was no ordinary light, that much I am sure. And you were sleeping so peacefully, I didn't want to bother you. So I swaddled you in some blankets, and tied you down to my back."

Scroll sighed, and then began to blush. He was like a child being carried by his parent, one who didn't want their filly to have a nasty fall. "How far do you think we have to go?"

"Who knows?", replied the Alicorn. "But even at this top speed, we may not arrive near the spot were the Light landed until sunrise. But I don't know the exact location."

"Then how will we know we're in the right place?"

"I suspect were there's nothing but a vast waste," said Sweeper.

“Well?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Oh!... Uh.. Certainly ma’am.”

He was surprised by being Shankhaied into medical practice in the service of other ponies; he decided to follow the Alicorn deity regardless, whilst questions running through his head like wildfire. He was disappointed in the destruction of valuable biological material but he guessed he might get another chance, or perhaps even a boon from the Alicorn which could be used in his research. She was quite imperious in her own way, but the ageless look in her dark blue eyes lent credibility to her right to be so, although he hoped she would be easier to deal with away from the crisp remains of the town.

They soon reached a clearing of sorts after a walk in near complete silence and upon the sight of the injuries his mind focused into the medical professionalism. As he neared the injured ponies he suddenly backpedalled two steps in shock, going slightly pale in the face.

Inquisitors!

He looked back at the Alicorn and gulped, was she working with the Inquisition? It did not seem likely, Twilight was more forceful and had more power than he did, and she was much more likely to send them on hunts for the “False Gods” and extract viable research via force. What should he do? He doubted he’d survive long if he ran, indeed that might be taken as a sign of some sort of guilt on his part, and he didn’t trust his chances against Alicorn magic. Coming to a decision he steadied himself, bolstered his courage, and got to work on the injured ponies.

Outright it was obvious that three of the ten ponies were dead due to the trauma inflicted upon them, ignoring them he entered the zone of sorts in regards to the others, the matters and history of the world faded away in the name of medicine and science. A deep intensity settled over his face, there could only be the doctor and the patients, and within minutes he was furry of medical motion, seeing to the most badly injured first and sealing their larger wounds with both physical and non-physical means.

The prime issue seemed to be the extraction of large and small slivers of some sort of magically cast stone, which made magical healing much more difficult. Luckily for him the rock had fragmented into numerous larger parts which proved easier to extract, still he needed instruments more precise for the smaller pieces which could not be extracted current without making their wounds larger. Pulling out a small tray from his bag he poured surgical spirits into it and set about cleaning of his equipment before extracting the pieces and applying appropriate medical magic, sutures and bandages, as well as cleaning the wounds with saline solution.

With more difficult ones including the more delicate surgeries he bandaged and treated as much as he could, before he sent a spell to encourage more white blood cells to the location of the wound, and then slowed the pulse of red blood cells to that limb until suitable clotting occurred, moving on to other serious injuries. Many of the ponies had suffered cracked ribs and broken legs, and he set about splinting them, for the meanwhile, although doubtless they would require casting later on, once again he utilised magic and casted long term regeneration spells which would increase natural growth of bone, as well cut the clothing off the inquisitor assist with lung expansion in regards to rib injuries.

All in all, he had managed to circumnavigate the injured in a incredibly short amount of time, mostly thanks to the experience as once working as conscripted a field doctor in a particularly bloody Moon and Star campaign with the Earthborn last year. By the time he had almost finished they were in better conditions they had previously been in, although he had been thankful they were all asleep, he doubted that this Alicorn could cast that type of magic… she must have had some assistance.

He turned his gaze up for the first time in a while and directed a question.

“Some of these wounds” he gestured to a collection of about three ponies, “contain fragments that I cannot extract without precise tools, if you would be willing, I have some companions with these tools on the edge of town. Given each god I have heard of has had some sort of entourage, I would be much obliged if you could send someone to direct them here, they are on the east side of what is … what once was, Old Hoof, they are a young disabled foal and a large earth pony.”

He ran a hoof through his hair casually, unaware that he had smeared some blood through it, “If not extracted the wounds could become infected and the patient could die or enter a high fever” he said, washing his hooves in a basin to get rid of the blood as he did so, “This act would make my job much easier if you could, they’ll follow if you tell them my name and our codeword, ‘Silver Scalpel, Ambrosia’s delight’.”

He turned to her, doctor mode still in control, an eyebrow slightly raised and a twitch of a smile on his face, “Well?”

Careful there Scalpel, she is a god after all, don’t get too flippant he mentally scolded, still it didn’t stop the smile from twitching slightly upwards.

Charter ran, risking the night, the possible highwayman, and even the lurking cultist. He didn't care - he had to get to Star Harbor.

Night had fallen, and he stayed at the Halfway-Halfway Inn, which was between Halfway and Star Harbor. It was unadvisable to travel in the woods once the sun was down. Even in the Sun and Stars, a unicorn must be cautious on the road.

Charter was exhausted, and not by traveling on hoof. The lost of the Greenfield's Library was a terrible blow to the Scholarship here in Twilight's realm. The three surviving assistants he had to help aid getting them out of the land into Whitegold. And then he had to search any hidden caches. He found none - only compounding the lost.

"All that work gone," he thought sadly. "And future generations will pay for it."

The light green stallion lay in a bed, trying to sleep. But then there was a commotion in the bar downstairs. He was about to finally sleep when he heard muffled words about Star Harbor. Tired, the unicorn exited the room.

When Charter entered the bar, an exhausted Unicorn was breathing heavily, slumped on the bar. His coat was drenched in sweat, and leafs stuck in his hair. A courier perhaps from the looks of it. The barmaid telekinetically grabbed a mug of water for the traveler.

After drinking, the courier continued his story: "It's gone! The city was hit by a tidal wave!"

Charter ran up to the courier, grabbed his shoulders. "What do you mean it's gone?"

"I was on a hill overlooking the city… battle going on, was preparing to leave for the local hall." He took another deep breath. "A wave like I've ever seen came and flooded the whole town, the water was deep! I went togged help-."

Charter heard enough, his eyes began to quiver in fear. He rushed to his room, gathered his pack, and dropped his keys at the bar.

"Leaving so soon?", asked the barmaid.

"I have to get to Star Harbor right away. Any other charges?", he asked.

"No, you already paid for the night. But sir, it's dark and-"

"I'll risk it," Charter said. He rushed out the door and left at a high trot.

The respective crews of The Leviathan, The Gilded Swallow and the Hurricane had gathered on the beach placing lit lanterns on the water each for a fallen comrade. For the usually loud bunch silence reigned in respect for the dead. Some said a prayer and some made blood oaths for the fallen. Crashing Wave stood back with Crosswinds and Softstep. When Swansong had told them of Reaver’s betrayal each wanted to give him a taste of steel. Swansong a little ways away from them singing softly to herself. She had yet to speak of Bovir’s death and Crashing had even tried to find the minotaur’s body but to no avail.

“So where to Cap?” Crosswinds grunted.

“We take our fight to th’ mainland,” Crashing said his eyes not moving from the lanterns,” We’ll take th’ ships in through th’ river. An’ don’t worry ‘bout em fittin’ I’ll expand th’ thing.”

“Then we’ll need to go south,” Swansong said as she joined them,” The Fortress of the Moon has one of the largest slave reserves and it’s also surrounded by large bodies of water.”

“Ye sure yer up for it lass,” Crashing said,” I won’t thing no less of ye if ye want to back out.”

“No I won’t run,” Swansong looked out over the harbor her eyes cold,” I want to fight.”

“Then it’s settled gather th’ crews and’ begin ta make way. When we get to th’ river’s we’ll use th’ long boats.”

The captans nodded and started toward the longboats. On the horizon they saw a green flash of light. Each pony saw it. Softstep looked at crashing and caught him smirking.

“What was that?” Crosswinds asked.

“That me mates is the fury of a mare scorned,” Crashing laughed,” Looks like Thea is havin’ some fun.”

“One of your kin,” Softstep inquired.

“Aye an’ every bit as wild as me,” Crashing laughed,” Come on lads let’s get goin’.”
They loaded into the longboats and went back to the ships. They made it to the mouth of the Moonlit River by dawn. The crews prepared the longboats, loading them with provisions, blades, and powder and shot for their arquebi and hoofcannons. The ships were moored on the shore and some of the crew had stayed behind to guard the ships. When they were ready Crashing Wave dove into the water and led them through the river. For many of the pirates this was the first time they had ventured inland. They had heard of the war that waged between the houses and now they might just witness it.

Bovir sat up with a groan, shielding the blinding sun from his eyes as he did so. His head was pounding, like someone had taken a mallet to his skull. He looked around. He was on a beach, washed up about what looked a mile from where his ship had sunk. The minotaur stood up and instantly regretted it as he emptied the contents of his stomach on the wet sand. Bovir whipped his mouth with the back of his hand. He looked over his shoulder and miraculously his claymore was still in its scabbard across his back.

He walked along the beach, the only sound keeping him company was the tide and the seagulls. He made it to where Star Harbor had once been within the hour. Bovir stared wide-eyed at what had happened. The town had been flooded. He knew this had to have been Crashing’s work. The alicorn must have been furious to bring this kind of destruction. Bovir only hoped that Swansong had survived. His heart ached to the unicorn. They were an odd couple sure but she had saved his life when he was under the slavery of the Moon Guild. They had treated him like an animal but she had been different. She showed him compassion and was just as much a prisoner as he was. In time he taught her how to fight and the pair had worked together to gain their freedom. Bovir looked toward the Sea. His gut told him to follow the coast south and follow it he did.

"Thank you… ma'am… for pulling over," said the exhausted Pegasus guard. She was breathing hard, as were her other companion. The two not only had to catch up with Sliver Sweeper, but also maintain her speed.

I've never seen anypony go that fast, say maybe the Wing Commanders and the Supreme Commander herself, thought the other guard. They were all resting on a small lone cloud. The moon was lower in the sky now, many hours had passed.

"No problem," said Sweeper. "Now may I ask were we are?"

Feathersky finally regained her strength, and looked at the silly alicorn. Well, she's certainly like the one that help us recently, save for the baldness. But what do I do if another divinity passes through our land? There's no standing orders on this.

"Well, you're in Stormwing air space ma'am. Usually you have to have… er… permission to enter. We typically detain trespassers. But since you're new here to his land, we'll let it pass this time."

"Oh thank you young one. I am Sliver Sweeper, Chambermaid of the Third Verse, and this here on my back is my High Priest Scroll." The Scholar began to turn red again, considering how he looked like a swaddled filly right then. "Hello," he muttered.

Why is there a High Priest strapped to her back?, thought Light Wind, the other guard.

Chambermaid? Was she here to clean after Commander Armifera?, thought Feathersky. "Well what brings you here, if I may ask, oh High One."

"The light to the northeast," said Sweeper in a much serious tone. "I don't know where it is exactly, but perhaps you can help?"

Both Guards eye's widened at the mention of the Light. They too saw it in the distance, and were almost blown down by the mightily thunderclap that followed. "We saw the Light as well… we're waiting for orders, but until then we have to patrol the border."

"Can you tell me were it occurred?"

Feathersky nodded, and took out a map. Laying it on the cloud (the map was designed to float on it, as with many Pegasi works), she began to point to certain spots. "We're about here, near the border by this refugee camp south of Northgate." She then pointed to a red mark made earlier. "A courier from Northgate contacted us an hour later afterwards, reporting that the a one of our listening posts also saw the light as well. And very likely so did the Moon and Stars. We triangulated, and the calculated the light would have landed here."

"No pony went to investigate the light?"

"The courier avoided it, not sure what was going on. We have to wait for word from the Command."

"So were is the location of the light?"

"Near Old Hoof. Which is odd, I didn't think anypony lived there anymore." The pegasus had automatically pointed in the direction of the town.

"Yeah, the last census said the place was abandoned. No reason why any pony would go there," said Wind.

"There is now," said Sweeper, opening her wings. "You may join me if you wish."

"I apologize ma'am, we have to maintain our vigil."

"Then thank you for your aid." Sweeper then left and rapidly went on her way.

"I told you," the secretary said, a hoof reaching under the counter. "That she's busy!"

Torrential caught a glimpse of the wooden stock of a arbequues for a moment, before a rich voice called from behind the door.

"Consarnit, Haymaker, ah told yo' t'send him in when he got her'."

The stallion shot a dirty look to Torrential, and grudgingly stepped away from the door. "You can go right on in..."

---

The walls were lined with deepwood panneling, with across their surface. The only real furniture within the so called "office" was the large circular oaken table that dominated the center of the room, and a few sturdy chairs that gathered around it. A single oil lamp illuminated the room, sputtering against the darkness that gathered in the corners.

The mare, naked of battle armor, at the far end of the table. Various charts and papers spread out infront of her, as well as a bottle of Appleloosa's finest and a shotglass that she was in the midst of filling.

On further inspection, to Torrential's surprise, it was not battle plans or strategic maneuvers, but instead diagrams and reports for this year's harvest and planting.

"I was told you were in a strategic meeting," Torrential said as he pulled out a chair. Applejack waved a dismissive hoof towards the bottle.

"This here? This here is whut we call strategics in this here parts," the earthpony said, her lone eye shining in the lamplight. She knocked back another shot and smacked her lips.

"Now, whut kin ah do fo' th' ballsiess ho'nhaid in Equestria," she asked him.
………………………………………………………………………………
The story of exactly what happened that day in Appleloosa was open to debate. The further away from the capital it got, the more the details were affected by hearsay and rumour and even within the city itself the details weren’t all that clear.

What everyone could agree on was that sometime during the morning, something blew a hole in the side of the Halls of Stone. The more tame rumours that started to spread were that it was an assassination attempt on the life of Applejack by explosives. The witnesses who had a good look at what had happened all claimed that an alicorn wearing a hat and with a jacket in his mouth had ploughed through the wall only to be engulfed by the muddy ground below and vanishing out of sight completely, Applejack taking a pot shot at him with an arbequues from the hole in the wall of her office, screaming "Git back here ye' winged varmint!" all the while.

Those closest to where the alicorn vanished into the earth would swear that the muddy ground morphed into a snake head and shallowed the alicorn whole before turning into mud once again.

One of the more dangerous rumours to be born of this event was, either by bomb or by alicorn, Applejack had in fact died. While such a lie was quickly stamped out of Appleloosa herself, it had already left the city before danger control could stop it. There was an old saying that a lie could fly around the world before the truth could get her shoes on and paranoid fear had given this one a strong breeze to soar on.

The favorite one to tell around the camp fire however was the tale in which Applejack entered her office to discover her little sister Applebloom being 'made a mare' on her elder sisters desk by the alicorn known as Torrential and the events that followed after that speak for themselves.
………………………………………………………………………………………
Miles away from Appleloosa the mud shifted into a surprisingly large snake, raising out of the ground for a moment before opening its maw wide, depositing a completely whole but very mud covered Torrential onto the ground before returning to the earth from once it came, leaving no sign that it had ever existed at all.
Shaking his body a little and allowing some of the mud that caked him to fall off, he glanced back in the direction of the city of Appleloosa for a moment before simply saying to himself “Well… That didn’t turn out like I expected…”
A small, somewhat proud smile appeared on his face as he started to walk east, the clouds for the latest rain already gathering to cover the sun for a time and give the land the water it required.

Charter had ran through the night and into the early morning, finally reaching the high ground overlooking Star Harbor. The rays of Celestia's sun began to peak over the horizon of the ocean. Water still filled the streets of the wasted city. Nearly half of the buildings had been destroyed, though a good many older ones - those made of stone - managed to withstand the wave.

The Scholar continued his trot, though he was far slower. He had not the endurance of an Earth Pony, nor the speed of a pegasus. But what he did have was a strong love driving him.

He entered the water logged streets, the sea water reaching up to his knees. Bodies of unicorns and unfortunate slaves floated in the salt water. Seagulls were pecking at the garbage of an overturned dumpster. Yet despite the carnage, the water looked blue and fresh as if it were still part of the ocean. The sun was shining brightly - as if the town was still alive.

Charter headed down the Main Road, risking the deeper waters and exhaustion to get to the studio his sister was staying at. He looked around, seeing if there were any survivors. But all he saw were corpses. He took a left were the Road meet up with the harbor district. The water was lower here, but the Scholar was soaked to his bones. He did not care though. Only one thing mattered at that point.

Hope rose at the sight of the residence of Mrs. Shore Gem, a tall, three story stone building that withstood the force of the wave. Charter ran to the door and opened it. Much to his horror, sea water began to rush out of the building.

He entered and saw the body of Mrs. Gem and her daughter. His heart shook, for he and his sister used to spend their nights with them, drinking tea, and talking about life. Charter stood there for moments, in complete silence, closing his eyes. There was a sheet of linen laying in the water. Charter couldn't leave the two like this, so he took the cloth and placed it over the bodies. He said a prayer for them, and went up the stairs.

He entered the studio, but found only the washed up paint bottles and wet canvases. The shuttered window was blown opened, though the door to the studio managed to stay shut. Charter looked frantically, but found not his sister. He yelled and called, but no pony replied.

He ran out to the street and and ran down the roads yelling and calling her name. "Vista! Vista!" echoes though the dead city. He did this for hours.

Exhaustion began to kick in, as he stood on the road his sister was just on hours ago. Looking out to the ocean, he saw some ships moored on the beaches. And Ponies on watch. Charter walked through the wet streets, through remains of the harbor, and onto he beach were the Leviathan fleet waited. On the sands, soaking and barely coherent, the Scholar collapsed.

Theá stood and watched silently as the stallion worked, taking mental notes of what he did and how for future use. Who knows? It may come in handy one day to know at least some medical procedure. It wasn’t outside the realms of possibility that one of her followers would become injured and she needed to keep them alive until more professional help could arrive. At least that was how she justified it herself. She wasn’t much for admitting her own shortcomings, but so long as it wasn’t spread around that she would deign herself to learn from mortals then she was sure no problems would arise.

She had sat down while he waited and had taken her braid into her magic to tighten it up again after it had come somewhat loose from her earlier incident. Her eyes, however, never left the doctor.

“Well?”

He reverie was broken by the Doctor speaking up. Her eyes narrowed as she locked her gaze onto his, holding it fast for just long enough to make it known that she did, in fact, not appreciate being talked down to, least of all by a mortal. While doing so, she also did her best to remember what exactly it was that he had said. Fragments. Small, difficult to extract. He needs his equipment from where he came from. Right!

Theá shook her head, dismissing his request almost instantly. “No, I’ll get them myself. T’is much faster… East side, you said? Meelo, keep an eye on him.” She spread her wings wide, giving a full view of their exact size, and pushed down hard, propelling herself into the air and shooting towards the east side of the crater at a leisurely speed which, to mortals, was about the fastest any non-athlete pegasus could match.

From where she had been standing rose a black shape with a dark, smoke-like mane and tail, and pupil-less eyes of a lighter blue than the body. Upon coming to a rest hovering a few centimetres above the ground, it tilted its head as it looked at the doctor.

“Haven’t I seen you before?”

(unsure whether you want to have Meelo and Scalpel to have a conversation, but I wrote a reply to his question if you want to use it)

Scalpel gave the bobbing near invisible entity a look and raised an eyebrow, a blade shifting under his waistcoat as he multitasked his magic in preparation for the worst.

“I don’t think so, unless I reattached your leg in the Moon and Star campaign last year I doubt we have ever met…why? Do you know me?”

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Theá sped across the wreckage of what had once been Old Hoof, heading due east as a green and brown blur.

A few minutes passed before she spotted a couple figures at the edge of the crater. Figuring that those two figures, one small and the other big, must be the ones that the stallion talked about, she banked and started a spiralling descent, soon coming to a stop directly in front of them with little warning save a distant flap of wings, and then her appearing right in front of them.

“Your guardian has requested your presence,” she told them in a brisk tone of voice even as she lit her horn and enveloped them in a rich green field of magic and lifted them up off the ground to hover beside her.

***-

Honey gave the Alicorn a both surprised and suspicious look. She didn’t trust her for one minute, especially when said Alicorn acted so brazenly and decided to levitate them off the earth and fly them towards its chosen destination. Grunge didn’t entirely share her inhibitions and began to hum happily as he levitated through the sky making happy noises, his robes flapping through the air. He wouldn’t act unless order to, but he seemed at ease with the Alicorn so she decided to suspend her sense of doubt about its intentions.

“Pretty pony!” He exclaimed happily, and waved a hoof at the god.

Frankly Honey figured she didn’t have a choice with this creature anyway, they were in its magic so resistance would only result in feeble flailing, so she decided to go with the flow of the situation as they made their way towards what looked like a primitive camp in the distance. With a little more time she caught sight of Uncle on the horizon tending to some wounded and talking to a hazy bobbing creature which flickered in and out of sight. She frowned and turned her head to look at the Alicorn.

“Who are you exactly?” she inquired, “do you work for Moon and Star? Because those are inquisitors down there that Uncle is tending to.” Her brow furrowed, “No it can’t be Moon and Star, they’d have locked you up to run endless tests on, not let you roam free…”

“You are correct,” Theá replied, casting a sidelong glance at the filly. “In fact, I was the one who inflicted those injuries upon them, but someone I trust argued that I should at least make sure they survived. Frankly, I do not personally care seeing as they attempted to subdue me, and I view their suffering as justified, but every once in a while it may be beneficial for me to spare even those that would wish me harm.”

She said no more as she angled her wings downwards, diving towards the ground while also slowing down enough so that they didn’t crash into the ground. What would likely have taken several minutes, if not an entire hour, had only taken one or two minutes at Theá’s speed. She touched down and let the filly and larger earth pony down on the ground beside her, gently, then turned to the doctor again. “I trust they are still alive,” she said, turning to briefly look at the unconscious inquisitors. “And Meelo.” She looked to the Nightmare. “I hope you behaved yourself.”

The Nightmare smiled, or smiled as much as he could without a mouth. “I always do.”

Theá only shook her head and turned back to watch the doctor and his entourage do their work.

Honey ran across and gave her uncle a hug, relieved that nothing terrible had happened to her guardian whilst he had been away. Scalpel smiled and ran a hoof through her golden hair lovingly, “hello dear, I hope our Alicorn friend treated you well?” She gave a small solemn nod and he laughed, “Come on then, let’s get the packs off of Grunge and you can help me with treating these injuries, you need some practice.”

They began unpacking from the great lumbering earth pony as Grunge hummed a merry tune from his past life. As Scalpel pulled out more medical instruments he casually broke the semi-silence and spoke up to the Alicorn, “I hope Grunge didn’t give you any trouble, he hasn’t been quite right since the accident, we think there may have been some damage to his brain.” He turned to look up at the Alicorn, “regardless I appreciate your assistance, and this will make the work much easier.”

Thus the small disabled foal and the strange doctor set about finalising their surgeries on the last three which required it, the sound of small clinks as shards were pulled out settling into a steady monotony of background noise.

“I forgot to ask” Scalpel spoke up, “What is your name ma’am? he grunted as a larger slice of stone came out one of the wounds of the three injured and nodded to Honey, who began to wrap up the wound with bandages as he cast a rapid healing spell.

Continuing he looked at her with a questing gaze, “Also, why have you returned after so long? it also seems extremely curious to me if any of your kind were interested in returning peace to this place, waiting the better part of twenty years of perpetual civil war to turn up… after hundreds of thousands have died, it comes across as slightly… odd.”

“I guess my main question is, for what purpose have you and your people returned?” He blinked and went slightly red in embarrassment at his poor manners, “I don’t mean any offense ma’am, but please take it from a mortal’s perspective; it’s not every day you see gods descending like lightening from the heavens, I hope I have not offended.”

Theá shook her head. "You have caused no offense, although you are much more brazen and daring than most mortals. As for why we have waited until now," she looked off into the horizon as if contemplating as she spoke. "Passing through the weave that separates the Astral Plane from the Mortal Plane is not so easily done, nor is it something that should be done without due course." She was silent for a moment - Meelo continuing to just observe - before she spoke again. "Suffice to say that we have our reasons. What may appear as a great tragedy to you is little in our eyes. Many of us share the view that just a few hoofful of ponies surviving is sufficient for this world to survive, and that the death of the million others is of no consequence. I understand their view, but I do not wholly agree. As for who I am."

Meelo watched with a hidden smirk as Theá took a step back and straightened herself fully. "I am Theá Erímo the Huntress, Goddess of Hunt, Wilderness, and Wild Animals. If what my ears are telling me is true, rumours are abound, picturing me as a figure speeding through the forests. You may have heard of me in that fashion."