//------------------------------// // A Mercenary // Story: Drinks to Dragons // by Odd_Sarge //------------------------------// “Tempered’s dead.” “I know.” “Who told you?” “No one.” Xencarn looked up. “You weren’t there at the funeral. None of you were.” “I—” The zebra raised a hoof. “I don’t want to hear it.” The cloak slid down his neck at his touch. “We’re living now, aren’t we? Living out our lives while each of us go down, one-by-one, always alone. You wonder why I’m a necromancer? Here you have it.” He turned back to his drink. “Death is around, and for all it’s worth, I try my best to stop it.” “Xencarn,” Firelight began again with a grimace. “I just wanted to let you know that the deal went through.” “What deal?” “Beyond the Maw. We’re going beyond. That medicine is getting out there, and we’re going to need you to help us.” “Pah, what good is an old zebra gonna do for you?” “Xencarn! You started this, and you’re darn well going to finish with us!” That voice. He knew that voice. “F-Flotsam? You came w—?” “Did I—Did I come with?! To Tartarus and back, of course I came with!” The peppy orange-maned pegasus was on the alcoholic in moments. “Xencarn, we come here every year now.” “What about last year, or the year before?” “You… you know we were having trouble at the farm—!” “What about Javolt, then?” Xencarn glared down at the cautious donkey. “What about you, buddy? Where were you?” “... Working.” “... Javolt?” “Yes, yes?” His cybernetic eyes were back at his hooves before Xencarn could speak again. “Working. The work never ends, you know?” “And I was busy out clearing out a new hoard,” Aurelia popped in. The yellow-finned dragon had grown much further since the Dragon Mawlers’ last meeting; she now had to hunch over to enter the Skyfall Emporium. She’d also filled out in all the right places, and Xencarn couldn’t help but continue to trace her body, unaware that she was still talking. “... and—Xencarn, are you listening?” “No.” “Well, gee thanks.” She huffed a puff of grey smoke from her nostrils and turned to leave. “Listen, I’ll be back here tonight, but I’ve got some business to do with Chase. Something to do with a missing munitions cache.” Everyone but Xencarn gave the parting drake hushed well-wishes. The zebra sat there, silently staring at where she’d once stood. “Listen,” Firelight reeled in the attention of the room. “Chica’s hive has been doing exceptionally well, and she’s kindly allowed a few changelings to come with the caravan for distribution. Xencarn, listen to me man, you’re going to love this. You’re going to be able to form a few connections for the Death Clan, and you’re going to be able to help a lot of ponies. Trust me when I say you’re not going to want to miss this.” “Everypony’s going to be going!” Flotsam slipped into Firelight’s bag to retrieve a large faded manilla folder. “These are the cargo manifests, and the roster, and—just, oh my gosh Xencarn you have to come with us!” “STEEL!” The shop’s walls shook at the reverberating shout. “TEMPERED STEEL IS DEAD! I DON’T HAVE TIME TO PLAY THESE GAMES, I NEED TO GET OUT THERE AND… AND…” “Xencarn… if I may.” Heaving, he allowed it. “As the group’s leading scientist… I will say that you need a break.” “The hay do you mean... a break?” “I mean what I mean,” the donkey said quite matter-of-factly. “I’ve been working with Igor to optimize her bunker, and I know for a fact that my little rob—friend will be able to handle it on her own. Dear Flotsam is right! Everypony is going, including me. Do be a friend and… join us, won’t you?” Heavy breath. “I…” Each gulp with pain. “I can’t…” “You can’t what, Xencarn?” He licked his lips and spoke. “I can’t go. It wouldn’t be right. Tempered has unfinished business here, and as a good friend, I need to see it through to the end.” “Can’t it wait?” Powder Keg pried. “No. I’ve done enough waiting to last lifetimes. I’m staying here, for Tempered.” “Xencarn.” He felt Firelight’s hoof press firmly into his shoulder. “A zebra once said, ‘he knew what he was doing to himself.’ Do you—?” “I said that.” “Yes, Xencarn. You said that. Now ask yourself, what would Tempered have said?” “... I don’t know, I’d have to ask him.” “Xencarn!” Flotsam flittered over to the necromancer’s other side. “You can’t just bring ponies back to talk to them anymore! It’s not right!” “To you, no. To me, it better darn well be right; it’s natural.” “Flotsam’s right, Xencarn. You’ve been doing that an awful lot lately, especially with your—” “Firelight, don’t—I repeat, don’t—tell me how to work with my clan.” “Xencarn, with all due respect.” The stallion stood back. “You haven’t been yourself, buddy.” “Of course not, Tempered died! Do you even know how much work that is?” “You know the answer. You know I know.” Xencarn was silent. “Xencarn, I love you as much as anypony else here; as family. I won’t have you discounting the time I spent working with you and ponies on their deathbeds, learning who you were and how my magic could be applied to them. We’re in this together, bud.” Firelight sucked in a breath of his own as he continued. “That’s why we need you to come with us. Not because it’s necessary, but because it’s right. You have morals, Xencarn. I know deep down that a grim necromancer leading the Death Clan has more sympathy with life than any other pony. You taught me that. Do the right thing, Xencarn; Steel’s past will always be here and apart of us, but we need to pave new roads through the wasteland.” Flotsam beamed broadly. “And we’re not doing it without you.” The zebra looked once to the mare by his side, her energy perfectly preserved as she had grown. He looked to the doctor, a true follower and good pony at heart, ceaseless in his efforts to better a forsaken world. He looked to the scientist, devoted to his craft and the perfection of the Old World’s finest. He looked to the father, who had sacrificed it all, and almost himself, before he had awoken from his senses and finally fulfilled a promise made to a lost brother. These ponies had done the world right, and sought to continue. Xencarn smiled weakly. “Okay.”