For the moment her wing touched his back, and the warmth of her skin, that indiscernible feeling blossomed within the Gatekeeper’s veins once more.

Arcon crushed it.

He would not be made a fool of again.

The stallion’s nostrils flared briefly, the only physical sign of his annoyance towards her gesture. “I am no longer some foal for you to twist and mock as your plaything, Thea Erímo,” he warned her with a whisper, brushing her wing off his body with his own none to gently. His eyes met her glance with a sharp glare, that lasted for but the moment their eyes met. “I have no strain in sequestering myself within my own domain. Alone,” he stressed to her. A dull, painful throb in the recesses of his mind set his teeth on edge as he listened to Silver Sweeper ramble incessantly to whoever cared to listen. 

“And you… You only hear what you wish to hear, Silver,” he quietly chastised the grey Alicorn with bitter disappointment, as his magic flared. With a burst of steam and warmth, his grey robe billowed with the air as his own magic quickened the heating process. Within a few sparse seconds, his fur and clothing was dry and warm, if a touch out of place. 

His heart, however, remained as cold and resolute as the ice.

“Since I have already given my word, I cannot recant,” He turned from them and began to slowly walk towards Amifera, his words following him. “Sister Thea, you may enter my Hall once at a time of your choosing to stare upon a portion of my Collection for one hour. After that, you will leave and never return. Sister Sweeper, you are likewise welcomed to enter my Hall. You will [i]only[/i] have access to the Kitchens and you may utilize the services of my Chef in whichever way you see fit for a full twenty-four hours. Afterwards, you will likewise leave.”

“Both of you…” Arcon muttered beneath his breath, glancing back at his sisters, “are insufferable.” With that he continued towards Amifera. He dipped his head low and outstretched his sandy plumage in acknowledgement. He paid little mind to the Stormwing pegasus at her side, his eyes and gestures meant alone for the crimson goddess who now stood on the empty battlefield.

That did not mean he dismissed her completely.

Each of his Sisters had come with their own follower, it seemed. For each Alicorn, a mortal companion. A part of Arcon briefly wondered just what exactly each of them was to his siblings. It was rare that their kind would find themselves in danger they could not handle, so the idea of them serving as protection was almost laughable. 

The one called Bright Scroll had described Silver Sweeper as his friend, but Arcon knew otherwise. His siblings were not so base in their emotions. Each of them… Sweeper included, did not act without reason. He quietly picked through the possible scenarios.

Somepony to impress and impart grandeur? A Witness to speak of the wonders they had watched his kin preform to their followers? Mayhap something akin to a pet, kept for their own amusement. 

His eyes flicked fleetingly to the white pegasus, and darkened in consternation… and then a flicker of magic. His magic gently tugged at the spidery Ley lines that tied her to Thea. A soft nimbus of pale green, the blessing of his Sister’s Wild, clung to the mortal’s form. From his spot alone in the ashen field of destruction, he watched as it cannibalized the mare’s natural pegasus magic. The green slowly crept along the bright lines of silver, encroaching her very being with Thea’s own. 

It would take days for the process to truly settle. Some strands would be altered. Some erased. Others added. But with each moment that passed, his sister’s magic took deeper root in the mortal, the seeds of the forest changing everything that she was or would have been…

From the moment the mare had agreed to serve Thea, her destiny would not be her own. 

[i]‘A lover, perhaps, then?’[/i] Arcon considered with flippant dismissal, as he released the magical vision. 

“Forgive me for not being so forthcoming in welcome,” he apologized, humbly averting his eyes. “May the edge of your sword remain forever sharp, Warrior.”

He straightened back up after a moment and tucked his wings tightly, lest they provide the easier target for her. Some days he felt they were useless… he could feel the magic thrumming through his veins, calling out for him to tap into it. With a thought, he could be anywhere but here.

The goddess who could lay waste to all who drew against her. The god who could do nothing more than protect himself. The irony was not lost on him.

His gaze turned towards that of the of Sweeper’s disciple, who had somehow found himself in a position not unlike the one that Arcon himself was in moments ago. “Earth Pony,” Arcon called sharply. “Does thou speaketh for thy Order?”