In his dreams, Xerihan dug into the ground. Dirt and stones flew past his beak as furrowed as deeply as he could. His claws were back; they were whole. With each stroke, his claws hurt, were scratched, damaged. He could feel it closing in, from behind. He needed to finish.

The gryphon kept digging, dug until his claws bled and his gasps swallowed all sound. He struck something immutable. He held up his talons, and with horror he realized they had been reduced to nubs. Bleeding, gnarly nubs. He struck the rock, the impenetrable stone, below him. He struck again and again, until he felt his broken paws crack through.

Xerihan had done it - he could escape. But just as he was about to dive through, he felt something pierce the back of his head. He glanced down. His claws were metal. They stung, and it felt unnatural. The pain receded. All pain receded. He felt at ease. But in the back of his mind, he screamed, realizing what his true fate was. He felt his limp body, smiling, content, become warped and twisted transformed into something it was not. It didn’t hurt.

But Xerihan screamed anyway, a smile on his face the whole time.

---

“aaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!”

“Fuck - Xerihan! Xerihan, for Luna’s sake, calm down!”

Xerihan thrashed and clawed indiscriminately, trying his hardest to free himself of the tendril that had twisted him so thoroughly. Ricket held him down, doing his best not to get clawed. He failed in that regard; Xerihan clipped him on the beak. Ricket recoiled with a paw on his face, a smattering of blood dripping through his talons. “GAH! You crazy son of a bitch-!”

The assassin finally calmed down enough to realize he wasn’t being pulled up anymore. He wasn’t being twisted. The details of the dream - no, nightmare, he thought - started to filter through, and Xerihan recognized the nightmare’s sheer absurdity. He was fully brought back to reality by Ricket’s muffled curses. He looked over and saw his friend’s blood. His heart sunk.

“Crap. Ricket, I’m sorry, I wasn’t - agh, I don’t even know!”

Ricket shook his head, grabbing some cloth while still clutching his beak. “It’s fine, it’s fine. I’ll just remember not to get close to you when you start thrashing in your sleep again. Damn,” he cursed, applying the cloth as a bandage and wrapping it around. “It’s a bit deep, but not long. It should heal up quick enough.”

Xerihan groaned and flopped onto his back. “I’m sorry, Ricket. It’s just, I’ve been having these nightmares, and there’s nothing that I can do about it. All started three days ago…”

Ricket paused his ministrations. “Cult related?” he asked.

Xerihan shrugged. “Could be. It would make sense. Or maybe it’s just my addiction… I don’t know, everything’s itchy, and my head’s pounding constantly, and I know everything would be better if I could just get some salt-”

“Xeri.” Ricket’s calm voice bore no room argument.

The assassin sighed. “I know, I know. It’s better this way. It just - everything hurts right now, and I just wish it would stop!”

Looking into the sky, Xerihan fell silent. Why did this have to happen. If I had just completed the task like I was instructed, Ricket and I wouldn’t have died. You will die. Ricket will die. I will die. End it now. Go back. You have your claws. Look, Ricket isn’t paying attention. You have the advantage. Just go up and slit his whoa whoa, what the hell!? I’m not killing Ricket, he’s the only friend I have right now! Why is everything so goddamned confusing? Why would you ask yourself? Ask me instead. You know me. Make it easier. Kill. KILL. WHY WON”T YOU KILL!?!?

Xerihan felt something sting his face. He blinked, looking above. Ricket had just slapped him, and he looked thoroughly unamused. “Nightmares during the day, too? Look, Xeri, I’m all for understanding others’ problems, but you need to pull yourself together. Let’s get a move on.”

Ricket stepped over Xerihan and made his way to his bag. Xerihan sat up, rubbing his cheek absent-mindedly. Feeling that his head was cleared up, he decided to reach for his own bag. As the sun rose over the tree tops, Xerihan carefully wrapped his face in rags again, and donned his rapidly deteriorating gloves. All the while, he fearfully pondered what had gotten into him.

Maybe if we keep moving, things will sort out… yeah. Just get to Muddy Hooves, it’ll be alright.

...You didn’t kill.

Xerihan choked on his own breath.

---

A little past midday, the duo had reached Muddy Hooves. After their detour to find Thea, they managed to find the road again and continue on to the small town. The village was on the border between the light forest near the lake and between the swamp Froggy Bottom Bog. Muddy Hooves lived up to its name - it was a small hamlet with only one main street to speak of, while the rest of the town was settled on dirt and mud. Approaching the gate, two Stormwing Hoplites forced them to stop.

“You two! Gryphons! State your business!” one of them ordered.

Xerihan stayed back, keeping his head low and covered by his cloak. Ricket spoke up. “We’re here to rest. We’ve been traveling for the past few days.”

The guards looked at each other. A silent agreement was reached. “You two came down the road from Trottingham,” the second one stated. “Reports say the city was in chaos not a few nights ago. Do you know anything about it?”

When Xerihan was not forthcoming, Ricket answered again, his voice more submissive. “We managed to escape the city some time after the riots started. We don’t know much else,” he said, his purposely weak voice convincing the guards.

The guards frowned. “Then do you know about the beam of light that struck the ground south east of here?”

“Err…” Ricket paused, while Xerihan looked at the guards in surprise. Beam of light? What are they talking about?

“I’m sorry. Truthfully, all it did was wake me up last night.”

They nodded. “Fine. You can pass. Actually-” the first guard changed his mind. “Your friend there - does he speak? He’s been a bit quiet.” Ricket paused, unsure what to say. He glanced at his friend.

Feeling it would be appropriate enough, Xerihan lifted his face enough so the guards could see his wrapped face. He threw his voice so it was more raspy than normal. “I can. But being trapped in a flaming building doesn’t help one’s disposition. I hope you understand - I’d prefer not to talk right now.”

The younger of the Hoplites flinched, while the other grimaced. “Ah - sorry, I meant nothing by it. Welcome to Muddy Hooves. Just stay out of trouble, and you’ll be fine. Everyone’s been jumpy with what’s happened, so watch yourselves, alright?”

Ricket answered as Xerihan lowered his head again. “Of course. Thank you, and have a nice day.” The guards parted and the gate into the city opened up. As they walked through, Xerihan sighed softly, releasing his pent up anxiety.

“First time in a while I entered a town by just walking in…” he muttered to Ricket. His friend chuckled good naturedly.

“That’s what most people do, Xeri. You should try being normal sometime, it’s not all that bad.”

Once inside, they set about doing business. The gryphons resupplied, buying extra food and bartering away their miscellaneous clothes and rags for better clothing. Soon enough, Ricket and Xerihan had clothing that was durable and well-suited to travel. Moreover, Xerihan replaced his current pair of gloves - which was almost in tatters - with much a much higher quality pair that almost resembled work gloves. Additionally, he replaced his face wrappings with a black cloth, so that it wouldn’t be as noticeable.

After resupplying their necessities, they set about re-arming. Though they received odd looks by the townsfolk, the gryphons were happy enough to buy enough arrows and extra daggers to last their journey, wherever it would take them.

Xerihan left the local blacksmith, having just told him the specifications for the bombs he required. Three explosive bombs, and three smoke bombs. He walked to the open air restaurant he and Ricket had agreed to meet at, his pockets jingling softly with throwing knives.

He spotted Ricket easily enough, being one of the few gryphons seated at the restaurant, and sat himself down. “Can you tell me why the guards were asking about a beam of light?”

“Well, that’s because there was a beam of light last night. It sounded like an explosion, and it woke me up. You slept right through it, though. Judging on the direction, I wouldn’t be surprised if it was somewhere near Old Hoof.”

Xerihan rose an eyebrow, forgetting Ricket couldn’t see most of his face. “I don’t think there are many things left in the world that could do something like that… Alicorn intervention?”

“Maybe,” Ricket replied, his interest in the subject already waning.

Odd… I wonder if Thea had anything to do with it. She was certainly close enough. Eh. Enough of that. “Any luck with the map?” he asked, changing the subject.

Ricket shook his head. “I can’t think of anything that could help us. We could try heading north, but that brings us near gryphon territory. I don’t think either of us would want that, at least not now. Going east brings us back to Trottingham-”

“Which isn’t going to happen,” Xerihan interrupted.

Ricket nodded. “Yeah. So that leaves heading west or south. South brings us onto the plains with absolutely no cover, and west brings us to the Everfree. Can’t say which is worse, to be honest.”

Xerihan motioned for the map, and Ricket handed it over. “Hmm… the Everfree might be useful, since we have that blessing that lets us hide in wilderness. Actually - there. We’re heading there.” He pointed at a seemingly random spot on the map, which was the northeastern portion of the Everfree forest.

Ricket eyed Xerihan curiously. “Um, are you sure? There’s nothing there.”

“Wrong,” Xerihan responded confidently. “There’s an Everfree encampment there, and there’s someone there that I think I can trust. He and I have known each other for years now, though I’m not sure if he’s still there.”

Ricket’s brow furrowed. “You know a guy in the Everfree? Xeri, that means he’s either a Cult plant or a Tribalist. I’m not sure either of those options is good right now.”

“He’s reliable, trust me. As long as we get there unnoticed and he’s still breathing, he’ll more than likely join us.”

Ricket peered at the map skeptically, unsure if Xerihan’s contact would be reliable. “You can guarantee that?” he finally asked.

Xerihan fixed his eyes at Ricket, leaning back in his chair with an air of certainty. “During times like these? It’s as close to a guarantee as you’ll find.”

---

A few hours had passed, and the gryphons were fully stocked up. Entering the local tavern, they ordered themselves some drinks. Xerihan pulled up a chair next to what seemed to be an older stallion, who was slouched over his drink in a stupor. Ricket pulled up a chair as well, and they both ordered one of the cheaper ales.

Ricket reached for his mug once it was served. “Oh Luna, I needed this,” he moaned, taking a swig of the alcohol. Xerihan half grinned, for once not feeling rushed to go anywhere or do something of importance. He sipped his own drink, feeling the bitterness wash down his throat. The most he could say was that it was cheap and cold, and that’s all he really cared about.

“Don’t drink too much, Ricket. We have to keep moving tomorrow, and it won’t be pleasant if you’re hungover,” he mildly warned his friend. Ricket shrugged, taking another gulp of his ale. “I’ll be fine, Xeri, I won’t overdo it. But you’re allowed to relax a little bit. I don’t think ‘they’ would try anything in the middle of a town.”

Xerihan grunted an affirmative, though his mind was still wrought over their situation. That’s what we thought when we started to run in Trottingham, and look what happened there. Can’t be too careful… never know when the Cult will [color=red]show up…[/color]

The door to the tavern swung open. Xerihan glanced at the door, curious of the new arrival. In walked a unicorn with a lute, who appeared haggard if not pleased.

The barkeep glanced at the arrival before he continued working and said, “Hey, Silbe. Standard rate and spot if you want to play.”

The unicorn Silbe, now identified as a bard or minstrel of some sort, grinned wider. “Thanks, Maury.” He trotted over to the corner of the tavern and magically lifted up his lute, readying to play. His lit horn drew attention, and regulars of the bar either looked his way or even made their way to sit near him.

“Xeri, I’m gonna sit over there, I think this guy might be good,” spoke Ricket, looking at the small crowd the minstrel was drawing. Xerihan nodded, taking another sip. “Knock yourself out, Ricket,” he neutrally replied.

Ricket stood up from the bar and, with his drink in claw, sauntered over to a seat near the unicorn. Xerihan peered over, lightly interested in the spectacle about to take place. This guy must be popular, he thought. Though not everyone seems so [color=red]happy[/color] about it…

On the other side of the bar, while some of the ponies seemed at least intrigued with the bard, others looked on with mild disdain as he started playing. This is odd… Xerihan thought. Something feels [color=red]off[/color] with this whole situation, and I [color=red]don’t like it…[/color]

The old stallion Xerihan was sitting next to suddenly stirred, hunching his back up in a cough. The assassin looked over curiously, wondering if he should do something or help the stallion. “Um…” he uttered. “Do you need help?” He realized his voice was probably a bit harsher than he intended.

The stallion waved him off, his coughing fit finished. “Yeah… yeah, just fine, actually,” the older pony rasped. “Not every day you wake up next to a guy you met on the road.”

Xerihan frowned. “I’m not sure we’ve met, actually. Are you okay? I mean, really.”

The stallion leaned back, inhaling like he had just come up for air from a deep dive. Then, he slammed back forward and pierced the assassin’s gaze with his own. “We have, Xerihan. Remember me?”

The face clicked instantly. “Flat Iron?” Xerihan hissed, his heart jumping into his throat in panic. Shit, he’s going to call me out on murdering his son. I’ve gotta get out, but I need to grab Ricket. Okay, need to stay calm. Stay calm.

“What are you - uh, nevermind. Are you okay, or…” he stammered, wondering what he could possibly even say, when he noticed the stitches on the older stallion’s throat.

His throat’s been slit.

Xerihan paused, his unease growing with each second. “...Who are you?” he finally asked, wanting to know answers.

The stallion that looked like Flat Iron merely chuckled. “Oh, you should know, Xerihan, that mind and body are almost never the same. Especially when you’re involved.”

When Xerihan didn’t respond, Flat Iron whispered with a glare, “Hey, Boss.”

Xerihan expelled his breath gradually, looking straight ahead at the back of the bar. A sense of dread overtook him. “Snap Freeze. What an unpleasant surprise,” he managed to wheeze.

Flat Iron nodded. “I imagined it would be as much. How’s your face, doing? I see you’ve covered it with some rags.”

Xerihan glared at the wall, not willing to turn to look at the stallion next to him. “It’s been better. Flames tend to ruin your complexion, though.”

Flat Iron barked out in laughter. “Ha! Still got a funny bone, I see.”

Xerihan glanced down, his beak twisted in disgust. “Snap, was this really necessary? Killing some old geezer and using his body to talk to me? You’re better than that.”

“Oh please,” the body of Flat Iron scoffed. “You’re in no position to tell me what’s better or worse, right or wrong.” The stallion took a drink, swallowing some of the ale in front of him. Xerihan absently wondered if the body would even be able to digest it, or if it would just sit in the stomach as the body decomposed -

Xerihan quickly shut down that line of thinking.

Flat Iron continued to speak after he had drunk his share. “Hmm… I’ll throw you a bone. I did this as much to talk to you as it was for my own safety. I’m offering you one last chance, boss.”

Xerihan glared sullenly at the body, listening to the offer.

“Come quietly,” Flat Iron insisted, “and we’ll let you and Ricket sit peacefully while we take you back to Trottingham. No guarantees when we get there, but I think it would be better than taking you down in a bloody fight in the middle of a tavern. Less bloodshed, and you’ll both get to live a bit longer. Quite a deal.”

Xerihan grasped his drink, his gloves dampening as condensation dripped down the glass. “That… sounds like a shitty deal,” he said plainly. “Why would I ever agree to die when I could fight and keep going?” he asked, staring down the body of Flat Iron

Flat Iron leaned in next to Xerihan, the subtle stench of decay slipping through his lips. “Because we have you surrounded. Both in here, and outside. You’d be lucky to make it five feet outside those doors, if you even got that far.”

Xerihan mentally cursed. ...He’s not bluffing. I know Snap, and he wouldn’t try this if he didn’t think he had an ace in the hole. Think, he’s speaking through a body, which means somebody needs to be controlling it. Not himself, he’s too careful to walk in here. Which means…

The assassin glanced around at the room, looking for any sign of magic.

Someone in here is puppeteering the body and letting him speak through it.

The only unicorn with his magic activated was the minstrel, still playing his lute mirthfully. If i’m wrong… he slowly reached for the explosive in his side pocket. This will be bad.

“Tell me, Xerihan, do you really think you can get away with this without you or Ricket becoming injured?” Flat Iron whispered.

Xerihan twitched, his wings flexing and his talons shuddering reflexively. The minstrel briefly glowed red, as did three others sitting in the small crowd, all smiling at the minstrel and - Xerihan noticed - glancing periodically at Ricket or himself. One was next to Ricket. Another was across from him, a pegasus. And then another unicorn, partially blocking Xerihan’s view of Ricket. They had his friend boxed in, and the gryphon didn’t even know it. I need to kill them.

“What’ll it be, Guidon?” the stallion hissed impatiently.

Xerihan shrugged, his mind made up. Sorry, Ricket. But there’s always some risk involved…

“I think you’ve always overlooked at least one detail when it comes to your plans, Snap.”

The elderly stallion, still controlled, frowned. “You’re really going to do this? Think, Xeri, just this once! You don’t need to make this more difficult than it already - irck!” The stallion stopped talking when Xerihan kicked him out of his chair. In a fluid motion, the gryphon landed and chucked the bomb he had been clutching. The three in the crowd already saw Xerihan kick away the thrall, while the minstrel had stopped laughing the moment his charge had been injured.

The bomb flew true, striking the minstrel in the back before detonating. A flash, chaos, ringing in the ears. The ponies and gryphons in the crowd fell over each other in shock. Xerihan didn’t hesitate. With his gloves hastily removed and thrown aside, he struck the nearest target, the unicorn. The target had been furthest from the blast, and was ready to shoot a magic bolt at Ricket when Xerihan tackled him. They rolled once, Xerihan clutching the unicorn’s neck from behind. After a short struggle in which the unicorn attempted to remove Xerihan’s claws, the assassin found his opportunity and cracked the unicorn’s neck against the ground.

He glanced up - the pegasus opposite of Ricket was still struggling to stand up. The earth pony next to him, though, was already fighting. Ricket was holding him off, though it was apparent he wouldn’t last long in his surprised state. As for the minstrel, the unicorn was face down in a pool of his blood, both of his legs sheared off above the knee. Xerihan had only one target to worry about at the moment.

With a leap, Xerihan cleared the moaning bodies below him and grabbed the aggressor’s throat with his claws. Two seconds of pressure was all it took to thoroughly shred the target’s neck. Xerihan distractedly wiped his claws, reaching to his friend. “Ricket, are you all right?”

Ricket shook his head, sitting up from where he had been laid out on the ground. “No, something in m’ shoulder…” his eyes suddenly shot open. “Behind-!”

Xerihan turned to see the pegasus rushing him, a dagger in hoof. He deflected the blade with his talons, but the pegasi’s momentum pushed them both over onto the ground. With no where to evade, Xerihan had to watch as the pegasus struck him with a hoof, cracking against his cheek. The pain enraged Xerihan, who immediately clawed at the pegasi’s face with his claws. He found his target, clawing an eye out and bloodying his appearance.

The pegasus screamed, lurching back with a hoof over his face. The dagger forgotten and belly exposed, Xerihan dug both sets of metal talons into the pegasi’s open chest. With a flick, the target’s belly was ripped open and the pegasus collapsed, viscera spreading out on the floor.

Wiping his claws again, Xerihan hauled Ricket up to his feet. The soldier looked down at the bloodied bodies and grimaced. “Haven’t seen you make a mess like that in years...” he stated, voice filled with disgust.

Xerihan grunted indifferently. “That’s why I prefer slicing the neck. Cleaner that way. Are you ready to move? Are you hurt?” he asked, noticing his friend wince as he stood.

“Yeah - something got me in my shoulder and in my waist. Hurts like a bitch. Ah ah, ah! OW!” Ricket roared, almost falling down again. Xerihan sighed.

“I’m sorry, it was my bomb. They would have gotten you if I hadn’t done something, but - shit, that looks bad…” The wounds Ricket had sustained weren’t life threatening, but it would hamper their escape. Moreover, Xerihan knew he had to staunch the bleeding, else Ricket would eventually die of blood loss.

With Ricket up and leaning on Xerihan, the two gryphons made their way out of the building. Xerihan spared a glance for Flat Iron as he grabbed his gloves, the older stallion finally at rest on the floor of the tavern. That made him look at the rest of the building, though, and what he saw disturbed him. Dozens of bodies, alive, dead, or somewhere in between, were scattered in the corner of the tavern. The barkeep and the patrons on the far side of the tavern had long cleared out. While Xerihan knew there had likely been other Cultists waiting to take him out in the bar, he surmised they must have had larger problems outside.

Xerihan sighed. Damnit, why did this have to happen!? Arrrggghh!!! I could have done better!

They were outside, in the town proper. While Xerihan hadn’t expected the situation to be calm, he wasn’t expecting to see yet another full on battle between Stormwing Hoplites and the Cultists in the streets.

The bomb must have alerted the guards, and when that happened… everything fell apart. The Cultists must have been found out, since they were trying to get at us in the tavern - Crap. Xerihan quickly dragged Ricket behind a building, seeing a Hoplite fly nearby, chased by a half dozen giggling ghosts. He peered out, checking the situation. We might be able to sneak away. Both sides are distracted, and Snap Freeze is probably running damage control.

Deep seated anger sparked in Xerihan’s mind. That son of a bitch!!! If he ever gets within ten feet of me, he’s going to lose his head! A thought grabbed Xerihan, and giddiness flowed in his veins.

I can find him. I know I can! He’ll be out somewhere, in the forest, issuing orders to retreat! I just need to find him! I can hide, and then SLIT. HIS. THROAT. Oh, I can imagine it now, sliding a blade across-

He was dragged out of his dark thoughts when Ricket coughed next to him. Xerihan glanced down, catching himself and realizing what he had just been thinking.

“Xeri… why aren’t we leaving? Xeri, we need to go… cough… we can’t stay here…” Ricket gasped next to him, his injuries taking a toll on his will to stay conscious. Xerihan nodded, hauling Ricket onto his back.

“Sorry, Ricket. Let’s get out of here.”

With the town in chaos as Cultists and Hoplites fought one another, the two gryphons slipped away into the forest, heading east into the bog.

"You should have asked them for the map," said Scroll.

Sweeper was standing on a cloud, trying to figure out where to go next. In her haste she had went in the general direction of Feathersky indicated. Of course, pointing generally northeast was not detailed directions, so shortly they had no idea where to go. The moon was still in the sky, not quite the twilight of the dawn. The night still dominated the sky, but the sun was coming in an hour or so.

"In retrospect, dear Paladin, that would have been a good idea," muttered the alicorn. She was rather irked at the inconvenience. Had any of my sisters been here, they would have certainly scolded me for not thinking things through.

When did I become a Paladin?, thought Scroll. It was like she make these titles up as she goes. He understood the High Priest title - the local priest had been using it to refer to his position. He still remember that day months ago.

"I'm flattered, Cleric Alabaster, but I'm not a member of the Clergy. My knowledge in the divinity is alright, but you would be far more suited to that position." Scroll was sitting in the tent that served as Ivory Shore's temple and hospital. The Clerics in town were on a mission to provide whatever aid, spiritual, physical, or mental, they could.

"And you attend services every week," said the Cleric. "I don't doubt your loyalty to the Sisters at all." Scroll eyes widened - he was worried that Alabaster was thinking Scroll was trying to set up a false cult. Somehow, someway the Cleric had a means to look into the hearts of others.

"Then why-"

"Because in a sense, you are that Alicorn's High Priest. When the Sisters came to power, they selected those who were probably very much like you. They certainly had little of the knowledge that we do now. And they probably doubted their roles to play, unsure of what they're getting themselves into or worried of what other ponies will think.

"But they formed the basis of the Orders that serve the Sisters, even after their disappearance. You too were ordained by the Chambermaid - I have no doubt she is of akin to Celesita and Luna, if of a lesser order. She called you, and you answered."

Scroll sighed and sat on a log that served as a pew. "It's a bit much. I wish I had the wisdom and education of the Clerics to guide me."

"I know you know enough to get by well - your mission is quite a different matter from mine, though they have the same goal in the end. Have some hope, that Alicorn wouldn't have selected you without a reason."

Alabaster's words gave some comfort to the Scholar. Even as he lay strapped like a filly to his mother, he couldn't help but wonder why Sweeper choose him. Maybe because I was the first pony to meet her, he thought. But his mind told him to be quiet and take the Clerical words to heart.

"I see a cloud city in the distance," said Sweeper, her eyes narrowed to the north. "Should we go there to ask for directions?"

Scroll pondered for a few moments, envisioning a map of Equestria in his mind. "If we're heading from the South… just north of Northgate… That would be Cloudsdale!" He shuddered. "That's the capital of Stormwing! It's so highly guarded, we probably wouldn't be able to get in. Or worse, they may just attempt to detain us."

"That's not a problem for me."

"No, but it could take up precious time."

"Then what?"

Scroll thought a few more moments. "Let's try Northgate - it's a bit South of here, but it's probably won't hinder our efforts as much. And it's probably closer."

Sweeper nodded. She didn't want to deviate from their course, as she was uncertain of her kin's fate. But at the same time, they couldn't waste time wandering. "Very well," she said, and headed south towards the ground settlement.

“Ya bloody cheater!” Deckhoof shouted as he slammed his cards on the table.

“Not cheatin Decky,” Grimwing chuckled and pulled his winnings over to him,” Jes that lucky.”

The pair of ponies had decided to pass the time by playing some poker but Deckhoof quickly found the green Pegasus across from him had a scary amount of luck. The red earth pony huffed as he crossed his hooves over his chest. Out of the corner of his eyes he spotted movement. He peered out over the railing of the Gilded Swallow to the beach. A pony collapsed on the sand and didn’t look to be moving anytime soon.

“Oi who’s that ye reckon?” he asked pointing a hoof.

Grimwing pulled his spyglass out. The pony in question looked to be a unicorn and one dressed in the robes of a scholar.

“It’s a unicorn. Probably survived the tidal wave,” he said before smiling wickedly,” Come on lets help th’ poor chap out aye?”

Deckhoof matched the pegasus’s wicked grin with one of his own,” Maybe ‘e needs ‘elp. After all what kinda ponies would we be if we didn’t help a pony especially a Moon and Stars unicorn?”

They jumped off the side onto the sand bellow and made their way to the unicorn. When they neared the unicorn they got a closer look at him. His robes were indeed that of a scholar but were devoid of any markings labelling him as Moon and Stars. He looked to have collapsed from exhaustion.

“You reckon ‘e’s Moon and stars,” Deckhoof asked.

“Only one why ta find out,” Grimwing said,” Come on ‘elp me get ‘im to th’ ship.”

Deckhoof nodded and they picked him up and carried him to the ship. Once there they grabbed a cancelling ring from the brig and placed it on the unicorn’s horn. When they were sure he was secured they took a bucket of cold water and splashed his face with it. The unicorn sputtered and coughed as he was jolted awake.

“Well then mate,” Grimwind said as he leaned on the railing,” What bring’s ya in th’ company of such ‘umble folk as ourselves?”

Crashing wave pulled his head form the water with a big trout secured in his jaws. He raised his head up and swallowed the fish whole, earning him several grimaces from his crew. The Leviathan Fleet had camped down beside the river to rest for the night. Many were used to his habits but they still found it gross how he refused to at least cook his food before eating it. He enjoyed his meat raw, be it fish, fowl, or beast. Softstep was grateful he was only eating a fish and not a deer or a rabbit. She had seen him eat a deer before and she vowed never again.

“Ah nothin’ like some old fashioned trout,” Crashing smacked his lips and settled down beside the earth mare.

“You know some of the ponies here might not want ta watch you eat fish as you do,” she said with a sideways glare at the alicorn.

Crashing let out a barking laugh,” then they best get used to it and th’ Plains forbid they catch me get a bloody kill.”

“Why can’t you eat vegetables like a normal pony,” she groaned as she sat back.

“Where be th’ fun in that lass,” Crashing smirked,” Sides vege don’t often agree with me.” He flashed her a toothy grin,” And another thing me teeth ain’t exactly ideal fer crushing grass.”

Softstep rolled her eyes. Her ears perked up when she heard a twig snap. She and Crashing turned to see a group of earth pony foals staring at them with a bewildered look. They were dirty and many of them were covered in cuts and bruises as well as scars. They were led by a large unicorn stallion in dark blue armor with a white crescent moon embroidered on the chest plate.

Crashing Wave stood up,” Well now what ‘ave we ‘ere. Out fer a stroll mate?”

The unicorn took a battle stance despite his shock at seeing the alicorn,” Back or by Luna’[s grace I’ll destroy any who seek to harm these foals.”

Many of the foals cowered behind the hulking stallion while two stood beside him trying to look tough. Crashing laughed followed shortly by his crew.

“Mate I ain’t so much a heartless retch ta bring ‘arm ta foals. Come an’ warm yeselves by our fire. We’ve warm foo an’ strong drink. Lads bring some grog fer th’ unicorn an’ some vittles fer th’ little anklebiters.”

The unicorn was taken aback by this burst of hospitality. The, what he could only assume were pirates jumped to obey the alicorn’s orders. Many of the foals rushed forward when they smelled the aroma of hot leek and onion soup. Crashing wave pushed a pewter mug full of a dark brown liquid toward the stallion.

“Don’t ye worry lad,” Crashing said,” We mean you an’ th’ foals no harm. So tell me ‘ow did ye come ta leadin’ a merry band like this?”

“Mista Beam safed us,” one foal said around a mouthful of soup. His fur was tan and he had a brown spot over his right eye. He looked barely over six. He had also been one of the foals that stood beside the unicorn.

“Did ‘e now,” Crashing chuckled,” An what be yer name?”

“I’m Powerhouse,” he puffed up his chest proudly earning him a giggle from Softstep.

“So what is the story here,” she asked looking at the unicorn.

He in turn pulled his helmet off with his magic showing his fur to be silver. His mane was black as night with a grey stripes along the sides of his head. He took a hefty drought from his grog and grimaced as he swallowed.

“I stopped these little ones form suffering the same fate as their parents. I was assigned to a patrol that monitored the edge of the forest here and we were summoned to help stop slave riot that had started in one of the camps east of here. When we arrived the adult slaves had been killed and the Inquisitor there ordered us to kill the foals. I have been with the Lunar Guild for many a year and I have witnessed many atrocities and that was the final straw. I slew the Inquisitor and my comrades as they turned on me and fled with these little ones in tow. I seek to get them passage out of equestrian from D=Star Harbor.”

“Sorry ta disappoint you mate but Star Harbor is underwater,” Swansong said as she walked up. She flicked a blade out and pressed it to his throat,” So tell me after years of vile actions why you suddenly have a conscience?”

“We all make mistakes,” He grunted,” And I’m sure you’ve made your own, High Priestess.”

She stepped back with wide eyes,” How?”

“I saw your mark,” he said gesturing to the crescent moon that could be barely seen in the center of her chest. He turned to Crashing Wave,” So tell me who are all of you?”

Charter recalled his sister, standing in the underground library with her green yellow fur and bright red hair. They were together at the Lakesville Vault two months ago, and there they meet the Lady Sliver Sweeper. They were awed and confused - she was the first Alicorn they ever seen in their lives, but expected more.

"What's with her mane?", Vast told him afterwards. "I thought she'd look more… regal?"

He nodded in agreement. "Don't know, but I'm sure we'll get a chance to ask later - she mentioned tea time. It's amazing those spells of hers!" They saw firsthoof the powerful restorative and protective magics Sliver welded.

"Well, I doubt you and I can put them to much use. We might be able to use some of them, but the more powerful ones only master magicians could weld. And even then probably not as well as the Lady"

He chuckled. "After I'm done with my studies, I can probably be as good as our Master. Then we can be of some real use!"

She smiled. "I doubt the Scholarship will ever need Master Painters, unless it's to whitewash the Vaults again."

"Ha ha. But seriously, once we're done with our grad studies, I'm sure they'll let us do more than just acting as aides. Art and surveying are important fields."

"You mean Surveying is important, I doubt any pony will pay much for my work." There was a roar behind both of them, and they looked back. A sudden wave hit Charter in the face.

He awoke coughing and spitting water out. He was laying down, facing the bright blue sky and Celestia's sun. Seagulls floated in the air, and the breeze brought a salty coldness. He felt the hard deck bellow, and the sand that stay on his wet body. There was a voice: "Well then mate, what bring's ya in th' company of such 'umble folk as ourselves?"

Charter lay there motionless for a few moments, confused. He soon remembered - the night run, the flooded city, the dead corpses, Vast- Vast was gone. Light green fur, her crimson mane, her smile, all taken by the heartless sea. Never again to paint the landscapes she crafted so well.

The Scholar eyes began to fill with tears, closing them and curling up into a ball. He sobbed uncontrollably, heaving air and moaning. His body shook as he came to grips with the realization. He didn't know how long he lay there. But after a while he finally got control over himself. Wiping the tears with his cloak, he looked at his surroundings. He was on a ship, with a pegasus and an earth pony waiting nearby. From their looks, the duo were sailors.

Charter didn't know who they were, or why they came to the port. But they were the only ponies that could do anything for him. He took a deep breath. "My name is Charter… I came to find my sister-". His voice broke at those words, but he got control of himself. "My sister, she was in the city. Searched, searched, nothing but water. The only life I saw is on this beach."

A cloaked pony made her way along the river, hooves clinking lightly as they met the surface of the lake. She'd been walking for the better part of the day, taking the walk directly on the river rather than simply follow the bank of it. It made, she felt, for a much more comfortable journey than to walk along a treacherous bank that might very well give in at any given moment and plunge her into the cold waters. Sure, she could just prevent herself from falling into the water, but even if she did fall into it she didn't very much care if it was cold or not. Being unable to even feel anything but the harshest bites of chilly winters when it came to cold things had its perks. She smirked, it was one of the things she was proud of. One of many things.

A quick glance over her shoulder revealed a pair of plain, unadorned saddlebags. They seemed to be only half filled, and she didn't much like the idea of having to eat grass, herbivore or not. A sigh escaped her lips as she turned back forward and continued along the river, eyes focused on the Canterhorn.

It was then that a bright white light shone from the horizon to her left, lighting up the sky and even going so far as to literally part the clouds, making it look like a whole had been opened in the sky. She stared with wide eyes as the light died down, only to shield her eyes and splay down her ears as a loud thunderclap and a powerful shockwave threatened to throw her off balance.

A frown crept onto her face, her brows knitting together. She'd heard rumours, of course, but she had refused to believe anything until she saw them with her own eyes.

Could it be one of them?

She groaned, damning her curiosity as she turned and walked up on the bank of the river and made her way towards the bright light. Gathering provisions be damned, she refused to let whatever had caused that get away without her knowing at least what it was.

Uh oh... Who's this? I wonder...

Torrential enjoyed walking.

While he often enjoyed going for a fly every now and then due to his connection with the sky and the rain, Torrential felt most at home with his hooves on slightly muddy ground as the rain poured down. He didn't really have to be anywhere in a hurry and he enjoyed viewing the world as mortal ponies viewed it; It helped prevent him from looking down at them like members of his kin tended to do.

He also tended to pick up on things that his kin would have overlooked in their flight, such as the... things attempting to follow him stealthily.

Fair was fair, they were doing a really good job at moving silently. A mortal pony wouldn't have known they were being stalked until it was far to late; Considering that none of them had a pulse to speak of, none of his kin would have felt them coming either. Under the same circumstances, the only one who he could think of that would have a decent chance of detecting them would have to be Thea, who's senses as a hunter would have given her the chance to do what he was doing now; listening to the rain bouncing off of their abominable bodies while the mud beneath their 'legs' shifted and betrayed their footholds as they moved.

Torrential continued as if he hadn't noticed them following him. In truth he was expecting an ambush of some kind thanks to the last earthborn farmer he had visited, whom had warned the traveling stranger that anything short of a fully armored convey that had traveled this way had vanished without a word or trace. Having granted the mare his blessing as reward for her kindness, the alicorn had come this way anyway.

Having finally decided how he was going to deal with his ambushers, the cloaked and hat wearing Torrential finally came to a stop.

The ground behind him exploded.

.........................................................

Ten hours later, a squad of Pegasus trained by Lightning Dust herself and tasked with tracking down the alicorn that had entered than shortly fled Appleloosa arrived at what could only be described as a scene of one sided carnage. It was hard to tell just how many smiling dolls had been present at the battle since they weren't exactly uniform; Since the damnable things could have any number of limbs and legs, the amount of broken pieces that were scattered around and stuck in the mud could have belonged to a small army of small, mass produced smiling dolls or it might have been a strike force made up of some of the bigger ones with more limbs then normal... it also didn't help that many of the pieces seemed to be missing altogether.

The pegasus squad were put into a good mood by the discovery. Not only were they on the right track, but a dangerous marauder band of Cult of Laughter abominations had been removed as a threat altogether. Today was shaping up to be a good day!

......................................................

Fifteen hours after the battle, another pony would discover the sight of the slaughter that had taken place against the creations of the Cult. Bearing the symbols of the Scholars, Star Dancer would do what any other non military pony would do when they encounter the sights and smells of a battlefield that has been given almost a day to decay... throw up on the side of the road before pushing onwards as quickly as possible.

Arcon was floating.

There was no up. No down. No left or right. There was only him in the moment-- and the music. Harps and violins of ponies past. Rich clear horns. This was true flight, a sensation of endless falling and rising. Colors soared around him like wind, humming in tune with the flow. The doorway opened. For the first time in a long while… Arcon felt… he felt…

Blast. What was the word? It was on the tip of his tongue… Alive.

That was the word. Alive. He felt alive.

With each note, the melody carried him higher and higher. The colors ruffled through his mane and feather, forming shapes and familiar patterns and the alicorn found himself lost in them. The world was a river around him, and he allowed his mind and body to be carried along with where it took him.


Alive.

This was all broken by the soft clip-clop of hooves upon stone. The colors withdrew to the recesses of his mind, and all that was left was mere noise. Beautiful, but the immersion had been ruined. Arcon waited for the last chords to fade, and then all the remained was the faint blips as the record skipped. His guest afforded him the luxury of a few moments to gather to his thoughts.

“Where did it take you this time, M’Lord?”

The sandy alicorn languidly opened his eyes to the endless expanse of the azure sky above. It was a rare day in the Wastelands, to be sure. But for the first time in the past few weeks, the skies were clear as clear and pure blue as the faraway seas. No cloud trekked across its breadth, and the scorching sun baked down all it shone upon in these lands. The warmth soaked through to his feathers, his wings splayed across the ledge he currently rested on.

The same ledge that he had landed on in his impromptu landing. It had taken some time to clear the rubble and smooth the rough sandstone to a grain of his liking. To the fair edge of the ledge, overlooking the Wastes was a raised dais hewn from the stone and it was here that Arcon chose to nest. The alicorn had commandeered all manner of cushions and pillows for this makeshift bed, not unlike a futon.

Nearby, a gramophone stood on a rather flat rock, a stack of records selected by Arcon himself at random next to it. A vinyl record, ‘The Pastoral Symphony’ by a Beethoofen spun silently in its tracks.

“A hill in my Mother’s garden,” Arcon sighed dreamily, resting his chin at the edge of the dais. “It was covered in pasture of सूरजमुखी, shining bright and warm. White grass. My siblings.” Arcon struggled to put it into Equestrian, as clunky as it was. “A great tree of gold with silver leaves and amber fruit. The tang of… well, the closest things to describe them would be strawberries, and fresh cream. It was… the memory of the dream of those things.”

Silent Dawn would not understand.

Every time he came up here, he asked that question to Arcon. The alicorn humored him as best he could. How could a mortal ever possibly comprehend what he himself did not in this form. It merely was. Even now, trying to fit it into words was like describing the Elder Sister’s night sky with something as plain as ‘Stars and Moon.’ It was so much…

अधिक

“I trust this is important?” Arcon asked with a tired yawn.

“I’m afraid nothing truly interesting. Merely the latest status reports . Rather tedious things,” the archivist answered, unrolling the scroll.

“Something to lighten the monotony then,” the alicorn jested with a rare smile, as he pulled another record from its casing, switching it with the precious Symphony. When the needle touched the thread, Arcon instantly regretted his decision.

“Soulja stallion off in this hoe
Watch me crank it
Watch me roll
Watch me crank that soulja stallion
Then Mare-Do-Well that hoe
Now watch me you-”

Arcon raised an eyebrow as he scrutinized the label, a small grimace on both his and the alicorn’s lips as the serene silence was blasted to smithereens. “And how many of these are currently left?”

“I would say roughly several hundred thousand, if not millions. It’s currently the most popular song in Equestria and-“

Silent Dawn had not the chance to finish his sentence before the alicorn had ripped the recording out and pitched it into open space. The two watched as it spun out of sight, and Arcon stared intently after it into the void. After a moment of tense silence, he was rewarded with the faint sound of vinyl shattering against the rocks below. With sigh of relief, the Alicorn smiled and laid back down onto the futon.

“Breathe not a word of this to anyone,” he warned.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, M’Lord,” Silent Dawn promised with a dry smirk, before clearing his throat and turning his attention back to the scroll. “Progress on the antechamber is fully accomplished and we hope to move the Doorways to it by tomorrow. The heating, lighting, and air filtratrion enchantments in Library Sections H32 to H86 have finally been carved and we can begin filling them with our backlog. The day after tomorrow, our acquisitions at Greenfields will have been fully catalogued and accounted for,” the archivist declared. This earned him a cross look from alicorn who leaned his head over to peer at the scroll.

“It has been nearly a month since the incident,” Arcon reminded him, his brow furrowed. “Why has it taken you so long to achieve this?”

Silent Dawn was taken aback, and nearly dropped the scroll. He was being… chastised? “Lord Arcon, there were nearly thousands of works recovered from the fire, many of them in varying degrees of condition. Some suffered damage from the fire. It was no small feat to come this far with it. We can only do so much,” Silent Dawn explained. “For our Literary vaults, there is merely myself, my daughters, and half a dozens others. Your Art galleries are composed of another eight, and the Melody staffs the smallest at six.”

“That would certainly explain the absence of songs worthy of my ears,” Arcon muttered beneath his breath.

“It is merely an issue of ponypower,” Silent Dawn explained. “This brings me to the next issue that I wished to address with you again. Our… um…” he cleared his throat, a troubled frown coming to his face. “Our… other acquisitions from Greenfields.”

There was silence for a few moments, and the archivist took this as permission to continue. “As your well aware, members of the Scholarship serve to preserve and protect knowledge for all of ponykind; a goal you’re quite familiar with,” he noted. Arcon merely blinked in response. “Ten of our… guests, for lack of a better word, were experienced members of the order. Curator Gouache claims to vouch for their reliability and trustworthiness, and with your approval, we could add their numbers to our own.”

“You are well aware that only those who carry my Key may enter the Hall Proper to work on the Collection.”

For the second time in the past five minutes, confusion swept through Silent Dawn.

“Then… why not give them a Key?” he asked uncertainly.

“I will not. “

“But… they are beginning to get the impression that they’re being kept prisoner.”

“I would hardly call the luxurious accommodations granted to them ‘a prison’,” the alicorn snorted disdainfully.

“No,” Silent Dawn agreed, “They are quite comfortable and many of them are merely grateful to be safe from harm. Still, some wonder when… or if they’ll have the opportunities to see their families,” he said pointedly.

“Then I fail to see the issue at hand. You will continue your duties as always-- except you will do so more quickly. You will have the works recovered from the Vaults accounted for in four moons time. No more, no less,” the alicorn settling back down onto the cushions. “You in turn will inform our guests that as long as they continue to behave and adhere to the rules of their confinement, they shall continue to be afforded the privileges given to them thus far.”

“B-but that’s not right! We’d be no better than the houses then!” the archivist protested loudly. “You can’t just keep them locked up forever!”

The alicorn’s onyx eyes narrowed dangerously at him and Silent Dawn shrunk back under the immortal’s gaze. With no small amount of trepidation, he realized that he had come dangerously close to crossing some unspoken line. His lord was slow to anger, and even slower to display any displeasure in things.

“Do not presume, Lord Archivist,” Arcon sternly reminded him, his tremendous voice but a whisper of ice, “That your words will have any influence upon me. It was I that found you in those sewers, and I can send you back. I have what I need of you. It is I, and I alone decide what occurs within this Hall. Nothing I do is ever without purpose.”

“F-forgive me, Lord,” Silent Dawn stammered. Arcon had reduced him to a quivering mess on the floor, the tip of his horn pressed against the sandstone at Arcon’s feat. “I-I overstep.”

“That you did,” Arcon muttered, settling back down, his voice losing its harsh edge. He stared down at the unicorn who remained prostrated, and small huff of disgust. ‘Get up you stupid child...’ he thought to himself.

When Silent Dawn would not cease grovelling, the alicorn gave a impatient snort. "What?"

“Lord Acron, may I ask something of you?” the unicorn asked humbly, keeping his head bowed. Arcon lifted his head from the futon, a mask of neutrality once again adorned on his timeless face.

“You may,” Arcon declared. His tone was now one of bored apathy.

“They’re good ponies… and they’re loyal to what they believe in.” The achivist, still trembling, lifted his face from the dirt. "The face was not that of a unicorn stallion in his prime, but that of a foal looking up to his father for answers. “When we got to them, the Inquisition was just lighting the first of the fires. The workers there were willing to give their lives trying to save as many of those works as they possibly could.” Arcon’s gaze impassively remained locked on the dust strewn horizon. “If that is not the type of pony you find worthy of your boon, then wouldn’t that mean that none of us are?”

“माँ, मुझे शक्ति दे.”

Silent Dawn frowned in confusion as the response, but hadn’t the time to question it.

The horizon exploded into a burst of light, a white pillar . From this distance, it seemed no larger than a needle against the quilt of countryside, yet the magic radiating from it was enough to determine its colossal size.

Arcon saw the unicorn cringe, his hooves reaching to his horn. Like all magic users, they sensitive to the magic in the world around them. To gaze upon that much would be like staring into the sun; blinding.

“What in the name of the sister’s is that?!” he exclaimed.

The alicorn rose from his perch beside him and spread his great wings.

“That-“ Arcon answered with a tired sigh a few moments later when the light faded away. “Is my sister…"

Star Dancer never did get use the the sight of war. Being a courier for the Scholarship, she wasn't unfamiliar with it - the whole of Equestria was in a state of conflict. The political situation seemed to change with the weather, and there was the ever constant threats of the Laughing Cult, madmares, or worse. As such, death was a common occurrence.

But Dancer was always sickened by the smell of the dead.

She had recently arrived some days ago in Earthborn with Scroll's reports and Sliver's letter. After being cleared by Customs, she went to the Dodge Junction Technical College. Dean Spoke took the pegasus to his office, were the stallion told her the news - An Alicorn was seen in Applelossa!

It was a great luck, for Dancer had no idea where this Torrential Waters could have been. Sweeper made a guess based on the unusual rainfall in Earthborn when Dancer mentioned the oddity. "Sounds like Rain is doing his job," Sliver said. "I wonder, is he going to turn the desert into a garden?" But now that there was confirmation, Dancer had a place to start.

The Dean had several assistants trying to locate the Torrential, and wanted the pegasus to help. "My duties here prevent me from leaving. However, with your speed and knowledge of meteorology, you can help in the Search. And my dear, you've meet the Lady as well, and this Water may be more likely to talk to a friend of his kin." Like many pegasi, Dancer took Meterology as a minor degree.

So off she went, first going to Applelossa to find clues. From there, her search took her to the countryside. There she heard tales of a strange pony, always walking, wearing a cloak and hat. And storms were nearby were they normally wouldn't be.

Speeding away from the gory sight, Dancer nodded. "If this isn't a sign I'm on the right track, then I don't know what is."

---

Several nights earlier…

Northgate was quiet in the early morning. The moon was low in the sky, and the stars began to fade in the twilight, though it was still rather dark. Fog began to form outside the town. The walled town seemed to be the one peaceful place on Stormwing ground.

Then suddenly there was a loud crash of glass shattering, the sound of whistles been blown, and then the loud ringing of an alarm bell. Soon the lights of the city began to turn on in rapid succession, as various citizens awoke from the racket. Bored guards were shocked out of their ennui, while others were stirred from bed and began to prepare for battle.

The guards of the eastern gate expected the fight to come from the outside. What they didn't expect was for an alicorn to burst through the once sturdy door from behind them. Several, who were standing before the outer gate, were knocked aside by the charging mare. They were dumbfounded as the bald alicorn, with an Earthpony on her back, trotted into the foggy darkness. They were even more confused at the ruined gate - the strong oak and steel was cut so cleanly into smaller pieces. How it was done was not known - for the defense was whole only a few moments prior to it's destruction.

Deckhoof and Grimwing gave each other a look.

“Umm,” Grimwing said, his tone almost remorseful,” I’m sorry ta say mate but yer sister probably dead mate.”

“Aye,” Deckhoof nodded,” Th’ captain flooded th’ harbor with a tidal wave last night and th’ only survivors was any who ‘ad ‘is mark. See?” He turned his foreleg to reveal the symbol of a shark.

“Me mate’s right,” Grimwing said,” We’re sorry but yer sister’s gone.”

They waited for the unicorn’s reaction with an understanding look and slackened the ropes around him. They kept a wary eye should he strike. Suddenly they heard someone climbing onto the ship They looked over the railing and nearly fell off the side at what they saw. Captain Bovir pulled himself over the edge and landed on the deck with a dull thud.

"Captian we thought ye was dead!" Grimwing said with pure shock apparent in his voice.

"Not dead Grim,' the minotaur grunted," Is Swan-"

"She's alright Cap," Deckhoof said," She an th' rest of th' fleet went up river toward th' Moon Guild Fortress." They left just a few hours ago."

Bovir nodded. He was relieved to hear his love was alive and well. He looked to the river," Good thank you." He looke dto the unicorn," And who is this sorry excuse of a deckswab?"
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
“This ‘ere be me crew,” Crashing stated proudly and gestured to the ponies that sat around his fire,” This ‘ere be Softstep, Swansong, an’ Crosswinds.”

“So ye was a ‘igh Priestess aye,” Crosswinds gave Swansong a smirk.

“And what of it?” she said through gritted teeth. Her past life had always been a sore subject with her. Crashing and Softstep both knew of her past in length bu8t they were the only ones.

“Nothin’ lass,” the pegusus chuckled,” Jes tryin’ ta imagine ye in them robes.”

“Robes?” Softstep raised an eyebrow.She never bothered to learn anything about the Moon Guild simply because she never cared.

“Aye th’ ‘igh Priestess of th’ Moon Guild wear some thick dark blue robes made of th’ finest silk,” Crosswind said,” They fetch quite th’ price.”

“Huh,” Softstep pulled her blade’s handle from the prying hooves of one of the foals. Two of them had taken up a spot on either side of the tan earth mare. She looked at the unicorn across form her who had just drained his grog,” So what is your name?”

“Paladin Moonbeam,” He said with a grimace,” Though I doubt that title means much anymore.”

“I remember th’ Paladin’s of old lad,” Crashing said,” In th’ eyes of Mother ye still one trust me. So what yer plan lad?”

Moonbeam sighed,” I don’t know now that I can’t get them to the harbor,” He looked with sorrow filled eyes at the foals,” They don’t deserve the life Fate has dealt them.”

“Well your welcomed with us mate,” Crashing said,” Could always use some extra hooves round ‘ere.”

“I thank you,” Moonbeam set down his mug.

“You know you didn’t react as other ponies do when it comes to Crashing Wave here,” Swansong said,” Why is that?”

“Because I was once in the personal service of Princess Celestia in the days before the regime fell,” Moon beam got a faraway look in his eye,” Those were by far the best days of my life. I stayed loyal because Princess Cadence and Prince Armor held the throne but it’s clear now that their merely pawns.”

Crashing scowled briefly at the mention of his elder siblings name but just as quickly as the look corssd his brow it fell to his trademark smirk. Moonbeam noticed it right away.

“You have some quarrel with the Princess?” he inquired. His magic glow wrapped around his broadsword’s handle unintentionally, ready to defend the honor of the Princesses, an instant that was hardwired into his brain.

“Last we parted mate,” Crashing said, his teeth bared,” It wasn’t on th’ best terms.”

Moonbeam felt the danger that radiated off the alicorn. He felt like he was in the presence of a bloodthirsty wolf not a god and decided to drop it there. He gave the alicorn a once over and realized how massive he truly was certainly as tall if not taller than the Sun Goddess he had once served. Softstep and Swansong took a step back from Crashing as he stood up and went to the waters edge.

“I’ll be a huntin’ mates,” he said over his shoulder,” Th’ anklebiters can come with us. I’ll see ya in th’ mornin’.” With that he jumped into the river and made off for a hunting spot.

Moonbeam looked to the mares across from him,” I do believe I insulted him.”

“’e’s justa might sore at Celestia lad,” Crosswinds said as he drained his mug of whiskey<” Ah that’s good. Anyhoof ‘e’s sensitive on th’ subject of th’ Royal Pair. Th’ way I see it th’ geezer needs ta get ‘imself a mare.”

Swansong shot the Pegasus a glare before sighing,” He’s in love can’t help that.”

“Obsession I calls it lass,” Crosswinds grunted.

“You are rather informal when dealing with him,” Moonbeam said. He noticed how all through their conversation they viewed the alicorn not a as God but just another pony.

Softstep laughed, loudly scaring the foals at her sides,” Trust me mate the first ponies I saw grovel at his hooves ended up shark bait.”
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
A deer walked out of the bush toward the stream. Moonlight shined through the leaves of the trees overhead giving the clearing a serene, almost sacred, feel. It perked it ears, listening for anything that posed a threat. Satisfied it wasn’t being hunted it bent down to drink from the crystal clear water. Suddenly a tendril of water wrapped around the deer’s neck. It gave a strangled cry before being wrenched into the water. A moment later the crystal clear waters of the stream turned crimson and the watery silhouette of an alicorn stepped out of the stream with the deer in its jaws.

Crashing Wave solidified his form set his kill down on the ground and stared at it. His eyes were jet black with the feeding frenzy and he dove into his kill with open jaws. He swallowed chunks of jagged flesh down in gulps, not even bothering to chew. After mere minutes the carcass was picked clean of flesh. Crashing sat back his mind taking over from the primal urges that often ruled him. He always found solace in just letting go of all inhibitions. He looked at the bones before him with a satisfied smirk.

“Always best when it’s fresh,” he sighed contently. He took wing and flew above the treetops. In the distance he saw a set of lakes and beside them a grouping of domes. They were close to the slave holds of the Moon Guild.

He looked deep in himself and felt his ocean move in his very soul. He grinned, almost madly and let out a barking laugh,” I’m comin fer ye Moon Guild. Jes ye wait. You’ll see what a real God can do soon enough.”

Charter just sat there confused and sad, hardly listening to their words. A part of him was angry at himself for letting Vast go alone. But then he remembered his sister telling him at their last meeting: "I'm not a filly anymore, I can watch my own back these days." She chuckled, then smiled. Her grey eyes looking at his own. "I know you care for me. But life is about living. I intend to experience it for all its worth, and we should never regret our decisions made…"

He closed his eyes and nodded at the words of Grimwing and Deckhoof. Vast was gone, that Charter knew for sure.

Looking up, the unicorn noted a tall minotaur, looking a bit exhausted, staring at him. What did the crewponies say, something about their Captain flooding the town? , thought Charter. Minotaurs don't control the water, at least not to my knowledge. Perhaps it was a bit of maritime superstition: Their captain had done something to anger the Ocean, and in revenge the Ocean flooded the port. He heard similar tales in his previous stays at -

Then Charter remembered something - Star Harbor! These poor sailors probably got caught in the tidal wave and ended off course. And the Courier! In his mind he imagined Vast saying to him "Stop moping around you fool - serious matters are a hoof!" . Yes, Vast would want me to make sure innocents were safe. He had to warn these sailors about their situation.

In his excitement Charter jumped up, still unaware of the ropes or ring. "My goodness, I almost forgot! I don't know if you know this, but you're in the Moon and Stars. You have to get out of here before the courier gets word about this place."

---

Early Morning

"Did you really have to do that?" said Scroll. Sliver had finally taken to the air after ten minutes of running on the ground and making sure there was no pursuit from Northgate. They were now flying north again, Scroll clad only in the sheets that previously bounded him. His Cloak was left at the Palace, and he simply felt nude without it.

"Well, I had to get through that gate somehow - I can't teleport or become incorporeal like my other kin," replied Sweeper. "And I have to say, I must have made good time casting my cutting spell - probably set a new record."

"I meant breaking into a bakery! All you had to do was to wait outside the Visitor Center, and we could have left without anypony noticing!"

Her face and bald scalp began to turn red. "Well… I got hungry. I didn't have any breakfast, and I wanted some cake and tea." She sounded like a little filly being scolded by her father.

Scroll resisted placing a hoof on his face. It was typical of Sweeper to do something so random during a tense moment. I swear I'll need a leash for her.

"We would have gotten out of there without a word had you not startled me," said Sweeper.

After attaining a map from the Center, Scroll couldn't find his Lady. He began to search the streets. He soon walked past a bakery window. He then trotted backwards when he realized that there was an Alicorn eating in the window, eating the cakes on display. Immediately, Scroll entered the store and whispered "Sweeper!" In shock, the Alicorn feel backwards, that (long story short) caused a chain reaction that left the bakery and two other stores a wreck.

"Never mind - let's.. let's just try to figure out where to go." He was about to take out the map from his makeshift cloak, only to stop. "We don't have a compass."

"So? I know where North is…"

"That's not enough - we need one to help know which exact direction to go. We can't keep on searching such a large area in a general direction. We could very well miss the town and won't know it until we hit the Canterlotians."

"So what do we do? I don't think entering Northgate is an option anymore… sorry."

"Just don't do it again." Scroll looked down and saw a well tended road. He remembered from the map - the old Trottingham Highway, well used by Traders. "Follow the road below," he said, eyes glittering with inspiration.

"Why?"

"Because if we're lucky, we'll find what we need down there."

Snap Freeze cursed, looking on as the situation in Muddy Hooves deteriorated. His cultists were found out, the bomb going off in the tavern immediately drawing the attention of the town’s Hoplite guards. The cultists planted outside of the tavern weren’t sure what to do, and Snap had made the decision to try and hold off the guards, hoping Xerihan and Ricket wouldn’t escape in time. Instead, the two gryphons had slipped away, even as Snap approached the tavern and kept watch. The sheer number of ghosts were keeping the Hoplites more or less grounded, but the Stormwing forces stationed in the town were more than capable of taking out the less experienced revelers and townies that comprised the bulk of Snap Freeze’s troop.

When tracking down and apprehending Xerihan and Ricket no longer seemed viable, and the fight had fallen apart sufficiently, Snap Freeze ordered the retreat. This was one thing he had planned for, and he was rewarded for it. Four different flares of different colors were fired from a distance outside the walls of the town, drawing the attention of Stormwing and Cultists alike. The Cultists knew the true color for the rallying point; all they needed to do was scatter and make their way to the point. The Stormwing troops, however, did not know which way the cultists were truly retreating. Moreover, they didn’t have the pony-power to search each and every point, not without opening the town to even more attacks or slowing down the recovery effort.

In short, Snap Freeze managed to pull back the majority of the cultists that had survived the battle. They retreated, quickly leaving the town and the Hoplites behind.

The troop had regrouped hours later, and Snap ordered the group to be split into several, so as to better avoid Stormwing detection in case they sent out scouting parties. Pouring over the maps, Snap Freeze tried to anticipate the gryphons’ next move.

We have scouts positioned north of Muddy Hooves, so we will know if they head there. They will almost certainly not be heading towards the Greyfeathers encampment; I can pull those ghosts back to the troop. That leaves heading south or into Everfree. Heading south means approaching several Alicorns, the large energy blast from ealrier, and crossing open ground with little cover. Sending scouts there should be more than enough to catch them traversing the fields. And for Everfree…

Snap Freeze scowled beneath his mask. I can’t risk having the troop head into the forest. The wildlings will have the advantage there, and we won’t be able to slip past them. That means relying on communication between whatever Cult moles we already have in place. And that’s the most likely place they’ve gone, too, so the pursuit is off for the time being. Damn.

Snap Freeze relayed his orders to the ghosts, sending out scouts while pulling others back to the formation. His plan was to skirt the Everfree, heading north to Greenwatch to both acquire new cultists and scout around for any sign of the gryphons.

His orders finished, he reflected on the situation and how he had let Xerihan and Ricket slip away. His thoughts bled with frustration.

The bastard didn’t care if he hurt Ricket. He threw the bomb in a crowded scene in order to create confusion, killing innocents and disrupting my Jesters enough in order to escape unscathed. Damn it.

Snap Freeze’s mind was set. Next time, he wouldn’t give Xerihan a chance to talk, even if Snap felt confident with his plan. Kill the traitor and bring him back; that’s all that mattered. He wouldn’t fail again.

---

Somewhere in Froggy Bottom Bog, Xerihan laid Ricket down against a tree. His friend had a fever, and the wounds in his shoulder and waist were not trivial. Quick bandages and pressure had stopped the bleeding for a time, but Xerihan couldn’t wait any longer. He needed to give his friend proper treatment, though he didn’t have the tools or the knowledge to provide it.

Ricket grunted, holding his paws against the wounds defensively. “Errgh… this stings. What… what happened back there, Xeri? There was an explosion… but…”

Xerihan sighed, pulling out cloth from his bag and tearing it up into makeshift bandages. “There were at least four Jesters surrounding you, Ricket. The lute player and three in the crowd. I wouldn’t have been able to help you in time, so I risked using a bomb. We got out of there alive, but some of the shrapnel hit you. I think it’s lodged inside, I don’t see any exit wounds…”

Ricket glanced down, looking at the blood-soaked rags currently covering his wounds. “Peachy,” he groaned. Xerihan simply ignored his friend’s remark and set about replacing the rags. “This’ll hurt a bit, just relax if you can,” he said, before removing the rag on the shoulder and wrapping the bandage around tightly. Ricket hissed in pain, tensing up automatically. Xerihan finished applying the first piece of cloth, tying it up so it wouldn’t move. Satisfied with his work, he repeated the task for Ricket’s wounded waist.

A couple minutes after he started, and Xerihan had replaced his friend’s bandages with something that would hold better. “Ready?” he asked Ricket. His friend nodded wordlessly, still in pain.

Xerihan pulled Ricket up so that he was standing, then made him lean against Xeri’s body. He pulled Ricket up, and together they rested in one of the swampy trees in the bog. The long, flowing leaves formed a perfect camouflage, and their blessing made them appear near invisible. They would be safe for the night, and Ricket needed the rest.

---

That night, Xerihan felt his pulse against his body, as something tight and constricting threatened to suffocate and bury him. He tried to move, to breath, to shout - nothing. He saw pink dust float from above, and the force kept his eyes open. The dust settled down, and Xerihan’s eyes burned.

The entity that was restraining Xerihan turned him over, and once he had cleared the burning dust from his eyes he saw what was below. Hundreds of bodies, all dead and decaying, lay below. They shifted and moved as a whole, like a grotesque organism. A hole opened in the mass of dead bodies, and Xerihan was lowered into the hole. Horror and dread filled him, and he squirmed and screamed and did everything he could to escape the horde of bodies. He didn’t escape, and he was gradually pushed against the bodies and forced into the hole. He settled in, and the force let go. Xerihan couldn’t escape at that point, and he felt himself sink farther and farther into the mass of bodies, what little light there was above fading into darkness.

He heard a voice.

Welcome, my child.

Xerihan vomited.

---

When Xerihan woke up, his body was shaking, a cold sweat had broken out, and his headache had returned worse than before. Looking over, he saw that Ricket had yet to wake up. Sighing, Xerihan forced himself to relax. Minutes passed before he was ready to face the day and leave his troublesome dreams behind.

“Ricket?” he finally spoke. The soldier didn’t budge. “Ricket, are you up?” Xerihan asked again. When his friend again failed to respond, Xerihan shook him awake, disturbing Ricket’s slumber.

“Er, whuz, the matter, ‘M sleepin’...” Ricket mumbled. The other gryphon was not amused.

“Ricket, wake up,” Xerihan insisted, shaking his friend again forcefully. This time Ricket was fully awakened, though his voice was cracked and weak.

“Ugh… Xeri, I’m awake, I’m awake. Stop buggering me… damn… I don’t feel good.” Ricket eventually sat up, one of his talons gently covering his waist. Xerihan sighed. He disliked seeing his friend, an accomplished soldier, laid down so low, and by Xerihan’s own claw to boot.

The assassin peered out to the expanse of Froggy Bottom Bog, looking for any movement. When he found none, he could only assume there was nothing waiting for them. “Ready to get going, Ricket?” he asked, not willing to elaborate more on what he was thinking.

Ricket grunted, managing to stand on his own. “Yeah, I’m ready. But I think I’m getting a fever. The sooner we leave here, the better.”

With little else needing to be said, Xerihan helped Ricket glide down from the tree, and they set off eastward.

Hours passed, and the gryphons had passed through the bog with relative ease. They had needed to avoid the occasional cockatrice and manticore, but their blessing had enabled them to sneak past the deadly creatures. Once inside the forest, all that was left was to head to the wildling camp. A while back, they had seen the exceedingly tall trees that marked one of the only major cities that the Everfree possessed, Tree-Top Towers. Xerihan readily avoided the site, knowing it would have a large presence of Cultists. Instead he aimed to his right, walking towards the wildling camp.

A full day had been spent travelling, and Ricket’s condition was slowly spiraling downward. Night had fallen when they finally reached the outskirts of the cam. They avoided patrols with careful movement and skillful hiding, augmented by their heightened senses and muffled steps.

Resting atop one of the trees that overlooked the camp, Xerihan let Ricket rest while he searched for his target. He was looking for one particular pony, and he kept his eyes vigilant. He watched the wildlings and other Everfree forces converse and otherwise go about their business below.

Thirty minutes passed, and then Xerihan caught sight of him. It was an earth pony, like he knew he would be, and his coat was a dark brown with a lanky, black mane. Treading back over, he wakened Ricket, who was instantly roused from his sleep but was still drowsy. “I found him,” whispered Xerihan. Ricket nodded, wordlessly standing up with Xerihan’s help. The two followed the earth pony as quietly as they could, gliding from tree to tree as they followed him. Eventually, they came upon a small shack with no windows and only one door. The earth pony walked in, closing the door behind him.

Xerihan laid Ricket back against the tree they were in. “I’m going to check in and make sure things are alright. Stay awake, okay?” he asked of Ricket.

Ricket nodded, not taking the effort to talk. This concerned Xerihan; “Ricket, stay awake, you hear me?” he insisted.

This time, Ricket softly replied, “Yes, I won’t doze off. Just hurry…”

Satisfied, Xerihan stepped back to the edge of the branch. Making sure no one was nearby or looking, he silently glided back to the ground. He poised himself in front of the door, listening for movement. He heard none. Taking a risk, he opened the door and stepped inside.

“Bourder?” he whispered. Strangely, there was almost no light inside the shack. Only a handful of candles inside were lit. “Bourder?” Xerihan asked again, his voice louder.

“What do you want?” said a voice off to the right and behind. Xerihan instinctively jumped forward and to the left, distancing himself from the unexpected voice. Peering back, he saw the earth pony from before step out of a niche in the wall, daggers at the ready.

Xerihan huffed. “You’re Bourder, aren't you? I’m looking for him.” Doubt started to creep inside of Xerihan’s mind; he wondered if he had made a mistake in coming here. Maybe Bourder was no longer located in this camp; maybe this stallion wasn’t actually him. He readied himself, unsure if he would have to fight or potentially run for his life.

The stallion cocked his head, his features passive and unreadable. “I’m afraid I don’t know whom you’re talking about. My name is Tranquil Roar.”

Cutting Wind had never felt as hopeless or terrified of anything in her life as she was right this moment. Her belly was pressed against the sucking mud beneath her, her legs imprisoned by it regardless of how hard she struggled while a coil of what appeared to be muddy water was wrapped around her neck as tightly as a living rope. Lightning Dust had never trained her for a situation like this... no one had! She had stopped trying to break free of her bonds after the captain... closing her eyes, Cutting tried to piece together were she had gone wrong with her life to deserve this.

The squad had been following the alicorn since the incident in Appleloosa. It had taken some time to pick up the trail amongst hearsay, but they had found it. The discovery of the dead smiling dolls had merely been confirmation that they were on the right trail. Following it to a side road that bypassed Dodge Junction, they had found their target walking along at a leisurely pace. Like the professionals that they were, they had ambushed their target properly, coming down from above and slamming their spears into key areas in order to kill their prey outright... She remembered the golden blood that had poured out of the wounds... and the darkening of the alicorn's coat from a light blue to one that was so dark it looked black...

Cutting didn't remember the battle itself... if it could even be called that. It was just over so fast, her squad mates imprisoned by the mud of the land just as she was. It was then that the alicorn had walked up to the rookie, a stallion that had only recently been accepted into Lightning Dash's forces, placed his hoof on the kid's head and then forced it under the mud. Despite the rookie threshing around with his muffled screams and the rest of the squad yelling at him to let the kid breath, the alicorn kept the rookie's head submerged with his hoof until the muffled screaming and the struggles stopped completely.

He then moved to the next pony in line and did it again in silence... then again... and again...

Cutting's head jerked up as something moved to stand in front of her. Tears escaped her eyes as the same hoof that had been the end of the rest of her squad almost lazily rose to deliver the same judgement to her as well. "No... please no. Anything but that. Please. PLEASE NO! I'LL DO ANYTHING YOU WANT JUST DON'T KILL ME LIKE THIS! I'M SORRY I ATTACKED YOU JUST PLEASE DON'T KILL ME!!!!!"

The world grew still for a moment.

"...Anything?"
..............................................................................................................................

As Star Dancer followed the road, she would be passed by a mare going the other way. While utterly caked in mud, a few things were clear. The mare was wearing a tattered Earthborn uniform underneath all the mud, she had clearly been crying heavily and seemed to have only stopped because there was no more water left to give... and there where stubs that had been the base of where her wings had once been.

The mare hadn't stopped at the sight of Star Dancer. She didn't say hello or make any move to acknowledge the passing mare on the road. All the now wingless mare seemed to be able to do was look down the road and keep putting one hoof in front of the other, her mind clearly lost somewhere far beyond the world where her body walked.

Cutting Winds had a message to deliver... and what little of her remained would see it carried out... only afterwards would she be allowed to die and escape the horrible loop of images that were haunting her dreams.

The moon hung heavy and full in the night sky as longboats moored to the shore of the lake. Softstep watched as Crashing Wave dove into the dark blue waters of the vast lake that bordered the Moon Guild slave domes. His body melted into the water and he disappeared. She looked to Swansong and the blue mare nodded. They stepped off the boats onto the shore and made their way into the thick brush of the forest. Moonbeam followed close behind the unicorn mare. The foals he had been prot6ecting were safe back at their campsite up the river. He had decided to help them in freeing the slaves. They were to infiltrate the domes while Crashing Wave kept the lunar guards busy.

He had been apprehensive at first to help them at first but after spending time with Softstep he had come to understand the mare shared the qualities that had been sought in Royal Guards of the past.

SKREEEEE

Several of the pirates flinched at the sound that ripped through the air. ’Crashing’s started the diversion,’ Softstep glanced back at the lake as the waters rippled around a construct bearing the resemblance of a hydra.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Lunar guards scrambled to the edges of the walls as one of the hydra construct’s heads lashed at the wall. It took a chunk out and threw it into the lake.

“Form up and unleash all you have!” roared the Commander. The unicorns unleashed a volley of magic bolts at the thing. The spells fizzled against the current of rushing water that formed its body. One of the heads slammed into the wall and tendrils lashed out and seized the throats of those unlucky enough to be there. They were raised into the air as a water construct in the form of a pony stepped forward from the hydra construct. The construct fell away.

“Yer judgments at hoof lads,” Crashing wave boomed as his body solidified. A sickening crack echoed through the air and the bodies of the unicorns that had been lifted into the air dropped to the ground. A pair of Paladins charged the alicorn, their broadswords raised. A pair of scimitars met the blades.

“Yield,” one said through gritted teeth.

Crashing smirked, barely feeling the pressure the unicorns put toward him,” Not in this lifetime mate.”

With a grunt he shoved them back. They looked up to see him become a puddle. Twin spires of rushing water surged at them. One was able to dodge but his companion wasn’t so lucky. The water enveloped him and he found himself trapped in a sphere of water.

“Πίεση των Βάθη.”

The sphere imploded and the stallion was crushed into a gruesome ball of metal and flesh. The other Paladin recognized this type of magic,’Elemental magic.’ He charged forward and slashed at the alicorn with his blade, ready to avenge his fallen comrade. The blade met Crashing’s twin scimitars but the unicorn smiled,“ πιέζονται φλόγα.”

A flash of white flame erupted from the tip of the unicorn’s horn and caught Crashing square in the muzzle.

“Gaah!” he stumbled back. Pain became the only thing he knew as the flame seared his face. It took every bit of his focus to ready a spell,” Ύδατα της Ιερής Άνοιξη.”

Water run up his body to his burned muzzle, killing the flames that danced across his blackened flesh. The water enveloped his muzzle and glowed as the damaged flesh was healed.

The paladin readied his blade,” Yield False God. You won’t win this encounter.”

As if to emphasize his point several other unicorns lined up behind him, reinforcements had arrived. Crashing glared at the unicorn before him with rage filled eyes. His twin scimitars flashed through the air and slammed against the paladin’s now raised blade. Crashing twirled, knocking the broadsword aside. His body became water and formed a puddle at the unicorn’s hooves. The Paladin tried to jump back but found himself enveloped in a sphere of water. The other unicorns started to surge forward at the alicorn as he solidified his eyes boring into the paladin’s. Time slowed for the pair as the unicorn accepted his fate as a true warrior.

“φρενίτιδα του αίματος.”

Shark constructs formed in the sphere and ripped the paladin apart, turning the sphere crimson. Crashing turned to the unicorns that were rushing him. His blades were tossed to the side and he met the unicorns head on.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
“Got it,” Swansong said as the dome’s door opened. They were away from the fighting at one of the many doors that allowed the guards to move among the walls that connected the domes. Swansong had successfully picked the lock. The pirates filed in ready for anything but found the corridor they entered devoid of guards.

’They must all be engaging Crashing,’ Softstep took the lead and they made their way through the halls. Eventually they found their prize. The main room of the dome that had been hewn into the ground held well over a hundred earth ponies. They were a good twenty feet from the ground below. Swansong grimaced at the smell. None had probably bathed in days, nay weeks.

“The atrocities we’ve committed,” Moonbeam muttered under his breath,” And this is by far one of the worst.”

“Aye,” Softstep grunted, trying and failing to keep her rage in check. She looked to her left and saw a stair well that led to what looked like the feeding toughs,” This way. We can break through here. Cross, take a team to the other dome and secure the slaves there then high tail it.”

The pegasus grinned and took off around the wall half of their small raiding force followed after him. Softstep started down the stairwell to her left with Moonbeam and Swansong close behind. Suddenly the tan mare stopped and held up a hoof.

“I’m telling you I ain’t seen the Head Inquisitor so mad.”

A pair of unicorns in light metal armor sat at a small wooden table. Their spears leaned against the table as they played a round of poker.

“Well what had her so steamed?”

“Something about ancient tomes disappearing and some such,” the unicorn set down a card and drew another form the deck on the table.

“Could be that phantom alicorn that’s been running around. You know the one that’s been whisking scholars away.”

“Well then you’re safe.”

“Screw you.”

Softstep pulled a pair of bombs from her bag, lit them and tossed them under the table the unicorns sat at.

“What th-“

BOOOM!

The unicorns were thrown back by the blast and slammed into the walls at their backs. Softstep walked forward and pulled a more bombs from her bag. Swansong did the same while Moonbream just glared at the tan mare.

“You could have given them a chance to fight for their lives,” he grunted.

“That sounds like mercy,” Softstep said as she lit six more bombs and tossed them into the feeding troughs,” They don’t deserve mercy.” She and Swansong rounded back around the corner.

Moonbeam glared after them for a moment then followed.

BOOM!

The wall came down that separated the two rooms. Screams could be heard from the other side of the dust cloud. Pirates rushed into the opening with Softstep at their lead. The slaves looked up at the group in shock.

“All right ponies this is your liberation time to move.”

One of the slaves, a dark green earth stallion with greying black mane, stepped forward,” Who are you?”

“I am Captain Softstep of the Leviathan,” Softstep walked toward the stallion,” And you?”

“Gilded Leaf,” the stallion stood unflinching despite the still fresh gashes he had across his back. His gaze was as strong as steel.

“I’m to assume you lead these ponies,” Swansong stepped forward.

Gilded spat at her hooves,” They look to me for strength horn head so I would guess so.”

“Then let’s move,” Softstep smirked,” Or our distraction will get himself killed.”
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Bovir glanced at the unicorn confused by his presence and turned to Deckhoof,” Who is this?”

“Oh uh ‘e’s a prisoner I guess,” the earth pony scratched his head dubiously.

Grimwing shook his head,” We thought ‘e was Moon and Stars but now I’m not so sure.”

Bovir gave the unicorn a once over. He looked a descent sort not the usual ilk that served the Betrayer of Harmony. The minotaur pulled the canceller ring off the unicorn’s horn. He tossed it to Deckhoof and the earth pony fumbled trying to catch it only to have it fly over the railing.

“Get the ships out of here and to Crescent Moon Island. Our allies would be greatly interested to hear of this development,” Bovir jumped off the edge of the railing.

“Come on ye can ‘elp us get under way,” Grimwing slashed the robes that held Charter,” Tell me mate you ever seen a sea pony?”

Xerihan smacked his lips, regarding the wildling carefully. The stallion certainly had the same physique and colors as Bourder, though his hair was longer and all of his markings and clothing practically yelled, “Wildling!” Even worse, his voice didn’t sound quite like he recalled it. His heart was thumping in his ears.

Remember, Bourder was a master at disguising himself… this might very well be him.

Steeling his resolve and hoping he wasn’t making the situation worse, Xerihan said, “Okay then. Well, my name is Xerihan. Um…”

He didn’t know what else to say, and Tranquil picked up on this. “So you, some wanton beggar, come barging into my house, looking for a stallion that looks like me. Tell me, who are you really?”

Xerihan grimaced. “Just a gryphon looking for an old friend.” He didn’t reveal anything else. When Tranquil took a step forward with his dagger out, Xerihan stepped back.

The wildling huffed. “Typical. Remove your hood, before I cut you down.”

Xerihan, not wanting to start a conflict unless absolutely necessary, did so. Tranquil appeared unamused by the wrappings covering his face, but a glint in his eye betrayed his thoughts. “That’s…No. Your wrappings, too. Now.” When Xerihan didn’t immediately respond, the wildling took another step forward, prompting the gryphon to grunt and step back. “I’m waiting,” Tranquil Roar demanded.

Debating whether the whole situation was worth the effort, Xerihan carefully undid his head wrap. When the bronze of the melted mask came through, Tranquil’s hoof fell.

Xerihan just glared at the young wildling. “Satisfied?” he asked bitterly. Tranquil nodded, but then changed his mind. “No. Show me your talons. Both of them. I need to know.”

He needs to know, huh… I see where this is going. Brat.

The assassin pulled off his gloves, showing the stallion his prosthetic claws. With that, Tranquil Roar sighed and released a breath of relief. His dagger was sheathed and he scoffed happily. “Well I’ll be. The Guidon of Joy, in my own humble abode. What a surprise…” Tranquil stepped forward, holding out a hoof. “It’s been a few years, Xerihan.”

The gryphon glared at the wildling, pulling his gloves on before returning the hoof shake. “Likewise. Though I wasn’t expecting to be grilled by you. I thought I recognized you, but - well, you pull a convincing act, Bourder,” he grudgingly admitted.

Bourder des Colloques smirked, stepping back. “And I wasn’t expecting you to act like such a pushover. I thought it would be any second before you tackled me and demanded that I stop acting like a paranoid hermit.”

Xerihan shrugged, leaning against the wall easily. Internally, his heart slowed its pace, and he calmed down. “Can’t be too hasty, not when I’m in the middle of the Everfree. Oh, about that - what was with the act? You don’t recognize me?” He paused, then looked over Bourder’s tribal outfit and war paint. “Well, I suppose I shouldn’t be one to talk - look at you, gone all native!” he chuckled, pointing at Bourder’s get-up.

Bourder shrugged, shutting the still-open door. “It’s what I do best, Xerihan. And how was I supposed to recognize you? Covered in a cloak and rags, gloves for your claws, and no Jester clothing to boot? You’re lucky I didn’t immediately string you up for walking in!” Xerihan raised his right eyebrow, as if to say, ‘Oh really?’ Bourder caught himself. “Well, lucky for us both, at any rate.”

Xerihan shook his head, looking off to the side. “Right… but seriously.” The assassin caught Bourder’s eye and pierced his gaze easily. “I think you know why I’m here. Don’t you?”

The brown stallion nodded slowly, carefully weighing his words. “Yes. You’re wanted by the Cult. I even got a message from a giggling ghost, saying you’re to be killed or captured on sight.” He vaguely pointed at the mask attached to Xerihan’s face. “I’m guessing that might have something to do with it?”

Xerihan nodded. “I botched an important assassination badly. Got most of my squad killed, and I was almost blinded when my mask started to melt. Hurt like a bitch.”

“I imagine,” Bourder replied tonelessly. “So why come here? You know I’m still Cult, and you’re not much safer here than anywhere else in Equestria. Hell, we shouldn’t even be talking right now. So why?” he asked again.

“Because I’m leaving Equestria, Bourder,” Xerihan replied, his voice unwavering. He grabbed his rags and began applying them to his face. “And I know how you really feel about the Cult. Don’t pretend you forgot how you were stationed here.”

Bourder rolled his eyes, but still he nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I remember. You put me here so the priests wouldn’t catch on how about I wanted to defect. I still do, in fact. So what of it?”

“Like I said: I’m leaving. But I need help. Like you said, you want to leave and return to Prance. I’m already on the run. If we do this right, we can both break free and leave this forsaken country behind.”

Bourder widened his eyes, then shook his head disbelievingly. “Xerihan, you know how unlikely it is.” He leaned in, whispering, “I mean, there’s probably a ghost outside right now, listening to us. Do you really think you can do this?”

Xerihan nodded confidently, finishing up his face wrapping. “Of course. I know how they operate better than anyone. Which means they probably are listening right now, and that you won’t be able to talk your way out of this even if you do try and turn me in. You already have your answer, don’t you?” he finished, a smile growing on his covered features.

Bourder’s face turned acidic, angered by the gryphon’s analysis. Then he snorted, relenting. “Fine, you got me. But I hope you’ve got something planned other than ‘run like hell’, because we won’t get too far otherwise.”

Xerihan held up his paws and nodded placatingly, an easy smile on his face. “Of course. We’ll need someone to remove our spiritual ties, someone that’s good at internal remedies. As for the Cult, I already have a group of them on my tail. But I don’t think they’ll follow me here, at least not the group I saw. We should only need to worry about small groups and whatever spies they’ve already put into place. Can we work around that?”

Bourder tilted his head in thought. “Yeah, that sounds doable. I know someone in Tree Top Towers, a zebra that’s good with potions. Should we leave now, while the getting’s good?”

The gryphon shook his head. “No, actually I need a healer before anything else. Remember Ricket?” Bourder nodded, silently affirming he remembered. “Well, he was injured when he and I left Muddy Hooves. We’ve been on the run together, and he needs medical aid. Is there a healer in the camp, one we can trust? The sooner he gets treatment the better.”

“Yes,” the stallion said. “A unicorn by the name of Autrice. She’s the healer for the local camp. She might still be awake. Grab Ricket and follow me, and try not to draw attention to yourselves.”

Nothing else needed to be said. Bourder waited for Xerihan to bring down Ricket, who was struggling to stay conscious, and together they walked through the darkened camp. At that late hour, few others were awake, and so the walk to the medical tent was uneventful. Bourder stopped them outside of the entrance.

“Just stay calm, let me do most of the talking. She doesn’t need to suspect anything,” Bourder whispered to Xerihan, who nodded.

Bourder held open the tent’s flap for Xerihan and Ricket, and after a moment they were all inside. Autrice was inside. She was a unicorn, a teal coat accentuated by a bobbed yellow mane. It suited her well, from what Xerihan could tell. The mare was busy putting away herbs and poultices, and hadn’t noticed the trio enter the tent. Bourder coughed, then said, “Autrice? Got some time?”

Autrice turned around expectantly - a large grin on her face, Xerihan noticed - then dropped her smile when she saw the gryphons. Xerihan absently wondered what she must have thought seeing such a trio.

The unicorn finally found her voice. “...Tranquil? Who are these, um… fine gentlemen?”

Bourder smiled guiltily before saying, “They’re old friends of mine, and one of them’s been injured pretty badly. Think you can do me a favor? Please?” he asked.

Autrice sighed, then her demeanor changed. Whereas before she had been showing emotions readily, her face turned stone cold and her voice became sharp and professional. “Of course. Set him on the counter there, let me get the supplies.”

The unicorn began rummaging through the closet and bins again, while Xerihan set Ricket down onto the counter the unicorn had specified. Autrice called from over her shoulder, “What are his injuries and how did he get them?”

Bourder furrowed his eyebrows, unsure. “Um, Xerihan?”

“Right,” Xerihan replied. “He has two injuries, one in his shoulder and the other near his waist. It was shrapnel from a bomb. It’s been a little over a day now.”

Autrice grunted, tugging her supplies behind her with magic. “Okay then. So you’re Xerihan, and this is…” she prompted.

“His name is Ricket. And it’s a pleasure to meet you,” Xerihan said.

Autrice nodded and set to work, peering over Ricket who was now completely unconscious. She felt his forehead. “Definitely a fever. Which means he might have an infection…” she unrolled the bandages around his waist. “Nothing too bad here, and -” she unrolled the bandages around his shoulder, and she grimaced. “Yup. An infection, fortunately pretty small. Let’s see…” the mare began working on Ricket, applying different mixed herbs and using a small knife to cut away dead skin.

Xerihan and Bourder watched, both silent. After a minute, Autrice sighed and looked over to them. “Look, can you two do something else? You’re breathing over my shoulder and it’s not helping. Just go outside the door and talk or something. Please?” she asked.

Bourder nodded in understanding. “Of course. Come on, Xerihan.”

The two walked outside, and they sat on the ground a few feet away from the tent. They stared dumbly out into the forest of the camp.

Xerihan broke the silence. “So… a unicorn, huh? I always thought you were more of a pegasus kind of guy.”

Bourder dropped his head and sighed, though he still couldn't help but chuckle. “Oh, shut it.”

The gryphon shrugged, grinning. “Hey, just saying, haha!” His smile gradually faded, though, and before long he somberly asked, “Were you actually planning on following through? Because you know you can’t.”

The brown stallion grunted, not meeting Xerihan’s eyes. “Of course. It’s all supposed to be an act. It’s just a way to find more information and use it against them. Right?”

He still refused to look at Xerihan, who grunted, “And yet I’m getting the feeling it’s more personal than that. You already told me you don’t agree with ‘Them’, so why are you really doing it? For yourself?”

Bourder shrugged. “No. Maybe? I don’t know… I’ve never had to deal with something like this, you know? I’m just hoping it doesn’t end badly,” he said, voice dwindling to nothing.

Xerihan frowned, clacking his gloved claws against one another. “We’re in the middle of a war, Bourder. Of course it isn’t going to end well. And killing someone is one thing - it’s impersonal. You might not like it, but you can deal with it. But pursuing someone romantically? That’s involving far too many emotions to be healthy. And in our position, we can’t risk that.” When Bourder didn’t respond, Xerihan shrugged again. “I won’t tell you what to do. If we’re going to leave together, it’s going to be as equals. But I’m trusting you to make the right choice here. Don’t mess up our chances.”

The earth pony finally looked at Xerihan. His eyes were sunken, defeated. “I understand,” he replied numbly.

---

Thirty minutes later, Autrice popped her head out of the shack’s door. “Hey, your friend’s ready. He isn’t awake yet, but he’s stable. Get in here.”

Xerihan and Bourder, both laying on the ground, stiffly stood up and made their way in. Autrice held the door open for them. Inside, Ricket was now laying on a bed, bandages wrapped around his injuries and his face much more peaceful.

“I removed the shrapnel and treated the infection. With some bed rest and time, he’ll make a full recovery,” Autrice said, once again putting away her medical equipment. “So, I’m guessing you boys are going to hang around for a few days? Or maybe more?”

Xerihan and Bourder exchanged a glance. Xerihan answered, “I’m afraid not. My friend and I can’t stay. So, if you’ll excuse us…” Xerihan walked over to Ricket and, with care, hoisted his friend onto his back.

When Autrice saw what Xerihan was doing, her eyes widened and she ran over. “No! Don’t do that, he needs rest-!” she tried to drag Ricket off of Xerihan’s back, but was stopped Bourder. She blinked and looked at Bourder in confusion. “Tranquil? What are you doing? You know he can’t leave!”

Bourder frowned, then shook his head. “I’m sorry, Autrice, but they really must go. I’m actually going with them, to make sure nothing happens. I’ll be back soon, okay?”

Autrice gawked at Bourder, her mouth agape in shock. She looked at Xerihan, who was already at the door and ready to leave. “But, there’s a raid soon-”

“And it’s in two weeks, Autrice,” Bourder cut her off. “I am definitely going to be back before then.”

“Bou- um, Tranquil, we need to go. Now,” Xerihan insisted, one paw holding the door open.

Bourder sighed and looked at the ceiling in exasperation. “I’m sorry, Autrice, truly, but we need to go. I’ll see you soon.” He tried to pull away, but Autrice held him back. He looked back in bemusement. “Um, Autrice, we really need to go.”

What he got was hard stare from the unicorn. “If you two are leaving now, you’re just going to kill your friend there. I’m going with you.”

“Autrice-” Bourder tried to argue.

“No. I’m going with you. End of argument.”

Bourder looked at Xerihan, who merely shrugged. “I don’t care either way, Tranquil. She can go if she wants to.”

Despite Bourder’s evident dissatisfaction, the three of them plus Ricket all left the small medical shack. Traveling in the dark of night, the small group set off south towards Tree-Top Towers.

Shocked by such a sad sight, Star Dancer tried getting the attention of Cutting Winds. The Scholar wanted to see if she could in help in some way, as she couldn't just leave a pony in such a condition. Taking off her Scholar's Cloak, Star was willing give it to the poor mare. But Winds kept on going, not saying anything, not even noticing when Dancer tore her cloak in half and set it upon her.

Dancer sighed but knew she couldn't do much for the soldier, for she must continue with her mission. She put the half-cloak back on and began to follow the road. Up ahead there were dark and foreboding clouds, and in the distances she heard thunder. But it stayed still, as if the storm's rage was just recently contained.

She pressed on, knowing in her heart that Torrential Waters had to be nearby.

After some time, Dancer had to walk as the rain became too heavy to fly in. Mud caked her hooves on the once dusty roads. She could not see very far into the distance, as the rain was so heavy that it began to obscure the view from a distance. Her hood protected her head and saddle, though her flanks were soaked.

Soon Dancer saw a form of a pony, tall and magnificent and clad in cloak and hat. But instead of the sky coat as the rumors foretold, his coat seemed to be as black as a thunderhead. Running, Dancer did not notice the bodies of the Earthborn soldiers until she tripped over one corpse. She didn't scream, but did gasp at the horrific sight. She stood up, and began to tremble.

Did he do this?, she thought. What did they do to earn the wrath of Torrential?

She stood, if a bit queasy, and slowly approached the alicorn. Yes, this was definitely the one that the rumors spoke of, and the Lady Sweeper recalled fondly. But all Dancer could feel was awe - the awe one felt when confronted by the might of nature. The Alicorn turned and faced her.

She bowed, and said, "Torrential Water? I bring word from your kin, Sliver Sweeper."

---

Charter was a bit confused by what was on his horn, or why he was bound in the first place. But the Minotaur's orders seemed to be of priority, and he stood waiting for orders. These folk need my help, and Vast would have wanted me to provide that aid in any way, he thought. His spirit was renewed by this sense of purpose.

The pegasus sailor's question was an odd one, but he took some time to consider it. Grimwing, as the unicorn soon learned the sailor's name as he gave his, had began to give him brief directions in how to prep a ship for the sea. The ship was soon bustling with activity, as were the other craft waiting. Charter began to remember his mother's tales of the sea. Star Harbor was her home before marrying a rather shy scholarly father. They had moved to Manehatten, but often Nectar Sea would recall her adventures in the deep ocean.

As they worked, Charter gave a reply to Grimwing, "The Sailors would tell many tales about Sea Ponies - my sister and I used to go the bars at night. We'd listen to the sailor's stories. There are a good many regarding the Sea Ponies - that they're half-fish, half-equine. Or that they are the decedents of a sunken civilization predating Equestria. Of the more stranger stories that they are the children of ponies as a result of a pact made with Creatures of the Deep, worshiping dark and alien deities from beyond the stars. But I've never seen one myself though."

Crosswinds grinned as he landed on the back of an unsuspecting guard,” “ello mate. I’m a bit lost mind pointin’ me in th’ right direction?”

The guard looked up in surprise as Crosswinds slammed a hoof into the side of her head. She crumpled to the floor unconscious. Crosswinds quietly laid her down and signaled for his fellow pirates to start laying the charges in the feeding troughs. The pegasus looked around the room in mild disintrest before he heard someone shout,” Fire in the hole!”

BOOM!!

Dust and debris flew through the air as the wall was destroyed. Crosswinds calmly walked through the hole and greeted the surprised slaves,” Alright if ye want freedom come with us otherwise well sty here I guess.”

The slaves stared blankly at him before they started to look to each. They were perplexed as to what they should do. Years of servitude showed itself as they hesitated. One earth pony, a mare with dark brown fur stepped forward cautiously,” Are we really free?”

Crosswinds grinned before nodding,” Why would I offer freedom if ye weren’t gonna get it?” He glanced at the pony beside him,” What kinda question is that?”

Slowly, carefully the earth ponies started to file out of the hole, almost afraid this was a trick concocted by their unicorn masters. Crosswinds followed the skittish slaves out of the pit. The pirates led them out of the dome through the guard doors onto the battlements. When the earth ponies saw the moon and the gentle breeze hit their faces they realized this was real. They were startled though when they heard the sound of a massive battle ringing through the air. Crosswinds spat at the ground and turned to the grey earth pony beside him,” Take em to the rendezvous point Glint, I’ll go ‘elp our distraction.”

“Aye sir,” Glint grunted,” Alright let’s move out. Follow me.”

Crosswinds launched himself into the sky with a pump of his wings and took off toward the battle. As he flew he spotted Swansong running along the tops of the wall toward the battle that Crashing was waging. He called out to her,” Oi lass. Ye be goin’ my way?”
___________________________________________________________________________
Crashing Wave spat out a glob of blood as he raised a crude barrier, a pair of spears clinking harmlessly against it. The alicorn took a moment to collect his breath, his chest heaving. Rivulets of blood ran down his body staining his fur crimson. Each movement sent pulses of pain throughout his body. Crashing lowered the barrier just as a unicorn rushed it and clamped his jaws around the poor fool’s neck. With a savage jerk Crashing ripped his throat out. The unicorn fell back with a strangled gurgle onto the bloodstained stone tiles. Gore and carnage surrounded him and yet the lunar guards kept coming. Crashing looked up to see more unicorns climbing onto the battlements. Suddenly his back erupted in pain as a spear buried itself into his back.

Crashing held back a scream of pain and collapsed. Just before he hit the stone a second spear imbedded itself in his back. He looked up and spotted a pair of unicorns sporting wings not unlike a butterfly’s. With a pained grunt Crashing Wave ripped the spears out of his back with his magic and launched them at the two. One screamed in pain as one of the spears ripped through his belly, causing him to falter then fall to his death. The other seraph was luckier, or so she thought. A tendril of water latched onto her leg and pulled her down onto the ground. She hit the stone tiles with bone crunching force, the impact killing her.

Crashing Wave looked at the charging unicorns with half lidded eyes. He didn’t know why he felt so tired. ’Might be th’ blood loss,’ Crashing chuckled finding it oddly funny. He felt another spear rip through his coat but his body felt oddly numb, the sensation nagging. The unicorns sent spears, magic bolts and arrows flying at the alicorn most hitting their mark as Crashing tried to fight back. His moves were sluggish, drunken. They pushed him against the battlements overlooking the lake. It was a sheer drop into the water.

“σεληνιακή λουλούδι!”

Suddenly a jagged swirled wall of ice appeared before the alicorn, separating him from the unicorns. Some had been unlucky enough to be in the range of the spell and had been flash frozen. Crashing looked perplexed by this new development,’ I must be dreamin’. Nah if I was there’d be rum. His vision went dark.

Swansong landed in front of the shocked guards. Only the highest level of the Lunar Guild knew that spell. Their eyes focused on the mark on her chest.

“Cross now!”

Crosswinds flew up over the battlement and pulled Crashing Wave over the edge and intro the lake below. Swansong then back flipped into the air a series of ice spikes appearing before her. She launched them at the unicorns just as they came to their senses and raised their spears and dove into the water.
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Softstep was not a patient mare. She paced back and forth, an agitated look on her face. Swansong had gone to get their leader but she had been gone for over an hour now. Glint and his group had arrived some thirty minutes ago and she assumed that Crosswinds had wen to aid Crashing Wave as well. Softstep and her now very large group had to fall back to their campsite. The earth pony’s had a few healers amongst them and were attending to what wounded they had. Gilded Leaf watched the mare pace back and forth with a mild amusement.

“So who is this Crashing wave anyway?” He asked. She ahd mentioned the name but hadn’t gone into detail.

Softstep opened her mouth to say something but she perked her ears to the sound of water sloshing. She looked down the river to see Crosswinds and Swansong swimming toward them. Behind them they pulled something but she couldn’t quite see what. It wasn’t until they reached shore she saw what it was.

“Captain!” she rushed over and help them pull Crashing Wave onto the bank. Arrows and even a few spears stuck out of his body like pins in a pincushion. His wings looked like they had been flayed and half his horn was missing. His breathing was shallow and he was muttering to himself, as though he was in a trance. Softstep took to pulling out the spears and arrows. Gilded Leaf and the rest of the ponies present crowed around the scene. They were shocked to see an alicorn and certainly one that was in this condition.

“Washcloth!” Swansong screeched,” Get your flank over here!”

A wizen red earth mare pushed through the crowd,” Move it young uns give th’ brute some room.” She crouched down in front of the alicorn.” Damn looky lous.” She added under her breath before checking his pulse,” By th’ moon ‘e’s diein’.” She pulled out a small viel of glowing crystal clear water. She popped its cork and poured it into Crashing’s mouth. Washcloth made sure he swallowed all of it. She turned to the crowd of ponies,” OI make yersleves useful an’ ‘elp us get ‘im to me tent. Quick too ye lazy varmints!”

Several ponies picked the alicorn up and carried him over to a large tent at the other end of thwe campsite. They laid him down on a large cot in the center. Washcloth followed them in with Crosswinds, Swansong, and Softstep.

“Swan,” Washcloth pulled a roll of gauze out and went over to Crashing,” Get me th’ needle an’ thread an’ some crushed bovy root. Should be some on one oh th’ tables.”

Swansong found the items requested, grimacing slightly at the smell of the crushed root. Crosswinds and Softstep pulled the last of the arrows form Crashing’s body and helped Washcloth clean the wounds. She grabbed the bowl of crushed root from Swan’s magic and started applying it to the larger of the gashes. Swan threaded the needle and took to disinfecting it. Together the four were able to wrap and stitch each wound together. Only thing was that his wounds weren’t healing at their usual speed and his breathing was still shallow.

“We’ve done all we can,” Washcloth sighed and sat back,” You young uns get some rest. I’;ll let you know if ‘is condition changes any.”

Swansong and Crosswinds nooded sullenly and started leaving the tent. They stopped when the noticed Softstep refused to budge from her place besides Crashing. The tan mare sat staring at him with a blank expression. Crosswinds moved to pull her away but Washcloth stopped him. She shook her head,” Leave ‘er be lad.”

Crosswinds nodded and he left the tent. Swansong looked back at Softstep with a sympathetic look before leaving as well.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________
Grimwing looked at the pony with an amused look,” Aye their by many tales of ‘em mate. In truth they are descended from th’ first ponies to accept th’ blessing of th’ God of th’ Sea when ‘e first came to th’ Mortal Plain.” He picked up a rope and tossed it a pony undoing the sails above him,” Oi tighten this down!” He turned back to Charter,” Let me tell ye mate there ain’t no beauty what compares to that of a seapony mare. Nothin’. Their belt like a pegasus with fins what come from each of their legs. Their fur be soft as silk to th’ touch. An’ don’t even get me started on their eyes.”

“They shimmer in th’ moonlight they do,” a passing pony said," Like right diamonds."

“Aye that they do,” Grimwing agreed,” but above all of em is Queen Sunpearl ‘erslef. She’s grace incarnate mate. Let me tell ya.” He sighed. ” But she only ‘as eyes fer Captain Wave.”

“Still smartin’ bout that Grim,” a voice said from up above. Grim glared up at the owner of the voice. A gryphon was perched on the mast with a cheeky smirk on her beak.

“Oh hush up Quick Claw,” Grimwing grunted. It was still a sore spotr with the Pegasus but he hadn’t been the only one to get his heart broken by the Queen Siren.

Quick chuckled before giving her sleek body a stretch,” The other ships are ready to go. Just give the word and we’re off.”

“Good,” Gimwing turned to Charter,” Well mate ye wanna come with us? We always on th’ lookout fer able hooves. And I gotta say ye picked it up quick.”

Slowly, Torrential turned to look towards the sound of movement, the sound of life on ground that had only recently claimed the dead. His gaze fell on the bowing form of a new Pegasus, his ears twitching as he listened to her words. It was hard to tell if it was due to her show of respect or the fact that those that had incited his rage had been punished, but slowly his coat started to lighten up, the rain that had been pouring down just short of a never ending volley of bullets easing up as the god of rain started to calm. A strange sucking noise also filled the air for a moment as the bodies of those earthborn who had been killed during this incident were pulled down under the mud, claimed by the earth that had ended them as its own as they vanished from sight.

It wasn't until the rain had stopped completely and the alicorn's coat had returned to its normal shade of blue that he simply asked in a somewhat tired voice "It is a pleasure to meet you, even if I wish the circumstances were better. Tell me, what may I call you and what word has Sliver Sweeper decided to send me? Knowing her, it wouldn't surprise me if she sent someone hundreds of miles to search for me solely to deliver a piece of paper with nothing but the word 'Cake' written on it."

Charter smiled at the complement from the sailor. Despite his mother and spending much time near the sea, the youth never did go on a boat. It was great to hear that he was doing alright despite his inexperience.

The Scholar looked to the sea, the waters that surely took his sister. But despite the tragedy, he could only feel comfort. That somehow the sea took one of it's own, and gave her a resting place that was so beautiful. And he felt that it was calling to him too, that it was the birthright of the children of Nectar Sea. And he remembered his mission from the Scholars, to make contact with Smugglers or rebels. They needed to expand their network now that the Greenfields was gone.

He looked back at Grimwing. "Yes, I'll go. I can see that you need the help and I'm used to these coasts, though by walking them. When there's time, I'd like to tell you about who I am and learn of this crew."

---

Star Dancer was surprised that the rain had ceased, and that the alicorn now had a sky coat. She looked down briefly, and saw the bodies of the slain were now gone. Torrential greeting had relaxed the pegasus a bit. After all, she was still in the presence of Power.

"My name is Danny - I mean Star Dancer. Danny is what Lady Sweeper calls me.

"I do not know what the Lady has written, as privacy is one of the duties of a courier. But she has a letter. If I may?" Dancer moved her cloak, and indicated towards the saddle bags. When Torrential nod in consent, she took out a bundle of parchment covered in a sliver envelope. It was sealed with gold colored wax bearing four interconnected rings. She handed the letter over.

Torrential was partly right about the message - a good chunk of the conversation would ramble about cake. But the rest was an update from Sweeper to kin about her activities. There were two important entires:

"Of my followers, two groups are the most resourceful. One is the Scholarship, of which Danny is a member of. They are academics of many fields, including agriculture and meteorology. They have sworn fealty to me, as well as to aid my kin in their need. The second is a mercenary band called Joy's Legions. They joined me after cleaning this unsightly tower that was fouling up the landscape. Rather professional and unusually pious, they too have gave their loyalty to me and my kin. Seek both if you need help. Danny can fill you in on the details…

"… hopefully your quest in Earthborn will be fruitful. And speaking of which, my Paladin and High Priest Scroll (who is dictating this very letter, isn't his penmanship amazing!) has a mission of his own. His superiors want him to find some missing friends, and I think Arcon may be involved. He may be on a mission trying to collect academics, archivists, and librarians for some reason. If you know of anything, just let me know. Oh, I'd would have sent some tea, but…"

Scalpel turned the looming figure of the god after a long time of surgery and nodded definitively.

“I am finished; these ponies should make a full recovery, as for the others… I’ll make suitable arrangements for burial.”

Whilst he had been occupied Honey had built up enough timber from scrounging the local woods to start a small fire, and she and Grunge had huddled around it whilst Scalpel had finished healing the ponies up. Scalpel moved towards Grunge and began to shift some of the equipment off his back, eventually finding a shovel and signalling Grunge to follow, levitating the corpses ahead as he did so.

He gave Thea one last questing look as he left, and eyed the Nightmare, called Meelo or -so he had heard- a little suspiciously… and nervously.

The blasted wasteland of Old Hoof hadn’t changed much since he had begun his operations, although most of the fires had long since gone out, leaving only sparking embers to light up the night sky. They stopped just on the edge of the city amidst a spot with looser soil than the surrounding areas, and Scalpel signalled Grunge to start digging. As Grunge began to pull huge tracts of earth out of the ground, Scalpel eyed the surrounding area with some interest.

Despite being mostly pulverised by the god weapon unleashed by Thea, Old Hoof was still somewhat salvageable. Ideas began to flicker round his head, with the community obliterated by an angry god, there would be little to draw attention to the location for a long duration of time. Initial investigations would no doubt turn up to find out what the blazing light had been, but afterwards once rumour had gotten around, the town would likely be abandoned to the forces of nature.

“Splendid isolation” Scalpel muttered approvingly, imagining rebuilding the site with some… form of labourers, into a prime location for his research into divinity and the appropriate creation of artificial Alicornal status. With a prime manipulation of the local lay lines he might be able to power such a transformation, following suitable genetic changes and the appropriate preparation of certain esoteric spells. If he was lucky he might be able to fix the power of those lay lines into a constant stream, literally powering his magic through the very essence of the universe and thus making him achieve a greater status than that of a low tier Alicorn like Princess Cadence…

Of course this would all need the suitable equipment and research for the completion of such a project, but eventually after some time he might be able to achieve such ends. The Alicorn Thea may favour him slightly, perhaps even with a boon of some kind for his work here, he did not know. The Alicorns were a strange and seemingly fickle group, they almost seemed entirely disinterested in anything related to ponykind according to the words of Thea, and he was inclined to take that description of their lack of interest in the preservation of equine life as a fact, rather than any spurious speculation or abuse towards godly competitors.

Would this mean in the end, that ponykind needed a protector from their own gods… could he fill such a position?

“What a grand ego trip” he laughed, “I have yet to even achieve my primary goal, let alone begin the considerations of further work in my new future.”

Once again he was nagged by the loss of those feathers and blood, what a waste of good material; it could have sped up his work by months, years perhaps. Maybe the gods were cunning to know of those who might take advantage of such things…. Still, he could make do with what he had right now.

When he had taken the shovel off Grunge’s back, he had also taken a hacksaw, in the darkness of the night be began work on removing the Alicornal material, or rather, the horn of a unicorn. He had been suffering from a lack of the main magical races power in this regards, mostly due to the unicorn populations mostly centring in the east and thus in Moon and Star territory and thus out of bounds. This material, whilst not the same as say, the blood of a god, did hold valuable research qualities, further developments in his plans could proceed with such research, a useful asset for a pony who had been on the run for years.

Once again his mind turned back to the ruin of Old Hoof… perhaps he could continue the process seen in Grunge, maybe even refine it to perfection. If he could do that with a hundred or so Earth and Pegasus ponies, then he would have an ample workforce to begin restructuring the place, and given the tireless nature of his fabrications, this would doubtless be achieved in a swifter fashion than any non adapted workers. He imagined towering walls and turrets, with a vast laboratory from which his experiments might finally reach their crescendo, tapping into the lay lines of magic and building electrical power plants to further his apotheosis into godhood… it might be in his reach… soon.

He would have to build up the workforce, doubtless there was mostly intact corpses on the outer regions of Old Hoof which he could salvage, and if push came to shove, he could always scavenge off the numerous battlefields of Moon and Star and Earthborn, or raid the local graveyards for suitable flesh.

He finished with the horns and placed them in the backpack of Grunge. The giant stallion had finished work on the graves and now three six hoof holes yawned out of the ground like gaping maws ready to be fed. Carefully he felt around in the pockets of the inquisitors for anything of value and picked up some bits and an inquisitors handbook for future reading. He levitated and dumped the corpses into the grave then signalled Grunge to bury them, which he did with a fair amount of gusto, presumably thinking it was some sort of game.

He turned back to where a dull glow lay on the horizon, where the campfire burned and began walking towards it. He might have unfinished business with the Alicorn of wilderness, and perhaps she might reward him… still considering her standoffish nature and general aloofness he doubted he was in for much of a treat, more likely a sullen goodbye and a pat on the back at best.

Still, future ties with the gods could only work out beneficially, and so long as he kept in their good graces, he stood to profit both from their trust and from their goodwill, which would perhaps disguise his own plans for his ascension into a reality where no mortal dared tread…

“My apotheosis… my rise to greater things.”

Accepting the letter as it was offered by Star Dancer (Aka Danny) Torriential took the time to read through it, the words of his slightly unhinged sister seemingly calming him down further. Sure, several pages of it were little more then her cake filled rambling and what legitimate news she had shared with him wasn't exactly the most pleasant to hear but she had at least given him enough thought to have the letter written and sent to him and that meant a great deal to him. While the letter managed to coax a smile out of the alicorn, he couldn't help but shake his head and click his tongue at the mention of what Arcon was up to. He could sense a conflict on the horizon that he doubted either of his kin of their followers did...

Taking the time to fold the pages of the letter and slide them into the envelope that it had come with before tucking it under his cloak for safe keeping, Torriential looked at Star Dancer with a slightly probing look in his eyes. After a moment or so, a smile appeared on his face. "Well, I wouldn't mind enjoying your company on the road if you wish to travel with me for a while. I was planning on heading northeast for a while, leave Earthborn lands for the little while after my short visit to Appleloosa so I could get in contact with the mastermind behind a tribute in my name that she unknowingly made a few decades ago. Considering some of the questionable decisions shes made since then, hopefully I'll get to talk with her before any of my kin get their hooves on her. She should be pretty safe for the moment so time isn't that much of a factor just yet."

Turning his body so that he could start following the road in an north eastern direction once more, Torrential turned to look at Star Dancer and waited to see if she was going to fall in at his side before asking "So tell me a little about this Scholarship that my sister seems to have taken over. It'll give me an idea of how the situation with Arcon will play out."