"Do you think he just up and left Snowreach m'lord?" the squire Patsy asked the shaken and rattled Sir Owayn. Helping him back to a standing position, the knight reached out with an armored hoof and smacked Patsy up the back of his head.
"You dolt! Had you actually been in position like I told you to, we would be several stories deep in dead dragon by now!"
"Oy! It weren't my fault! Those two locals went and got themselves kilt in there, probably tipped off that damn dragon."
Owayn wrenched off his helmet, tossing it aside. "Well this is a bust. How are we going to collect our reward if we don't show up with a dead damn dragon! And no I don't think he just 'up and left Snowreach'. Probably got a stomach ache from eating those bloody locals. How are we ever going to make it up to the order after this travesty?"
Patsy grinned with his many crooked teeth showing, "Well m'lord, we may not have a dead dragon on our hooves, but we got a dragon's hoard sittin' unguarded." he said with a sidelong wink.
Owayn placed an armored hoof on Patsy's shoulder, "Patsy, I don't say this very often, but....you're a genius. And I take back what I said the other day about your mother being a mule."
"She is a mule m'lord. Besides, I've always been the brains of this outfit. Now lets go plunder us a dragon hoard!" The pair of dragon slayers made a mad dash for the entrance to Venerax's cave, half-seriously shoving each other out of the way to get the first pick of loot.
"Ahem."
Both of the slayers skidded to a halt, the form of Old Spin sat in the entrance to the cave, half-heartedly chewing on a stem of grass.
"Oh, um, Spin. Um, you're alive! I knew we could count on you to do....whatever it is you do around here."
"And just where do you two gentlecolts think you're headed?"
"Nowhere, certainly not pillaging any hoards, right Patsy?" Owayn punched his squire in the shoulder.
"Oh, yeahs. We're, er uh, lookin for cover! Yeah, just in case Venerax comes back all mean with sand up in his mare parts!"
A claw grabbed Patsy by the scruff, effortlessly lifting him in the air. "For your information, I do not have what you deem to be 'mare parts',"
Spin smiled at the flailing squire. "You can be real sneaky for being over a hundred feet long, what's your secret Venerax?"
"Eternal damnation in this wilderness, it also works wonders for ricketts and arthritis."
"Ack! That foul drake has absconded with my squire! Unhand him before I end you foul wyrm!" Owayn whipped out a longsword, encapsulating it with his blue magic.
With his free claw, Venerax grabbed the blade like somepony else might have grabbed an hors d'oeurve. Scraping out a few gem shards from his teeth, Venerax promptly flicked the bent and twisted sword down his throat, swallowing loudly. With a belch he tossed back Patsy.
Owayn was outraged, "You inconsiderate lizard! That sword was worth a small fortune!"
"I've eaten small fortunes that tasted better. In the future, if you dare to challenge me in my own realm, do not mock me with the cheapest steel you can find. Diamond Dog crafting is a good minimum." He poked Owayn as lightly as he possibly could in the chest. Flustered, the knight's horn enveloped in blue magic, in rage he hurled a bolt of magic to strike Venerax on the face.
Venerax recoiled from the bolt, stepping back he flared out his massive wings, hissing at the knight. Owayn summoned his mace out, holding it far out front aggressively.
"You wish to fight me? Then I shall send flowers to your next of kin!" Venerax's claws dug trenches in the ground, he snorted jets of smoke and flame.
Owayn swung his mace once, testing the heft. "I shall see you dead, worm of a dragon! I'll parade your head down the avenues of Canterlot before I have it stuffed on my mantle, next to all the other dragons I have slain!"
The coal black dragon reared up on his hind legs, roaring in challenge. Sucking in a whirlwind of breath, he aimed at the knight. Owayn diverted his magic from his mace to make a shimmering force field.
A red blur dropped down from the sky, planting itself directly between the adversaries. "Break it up you two! If you haven't noticed, there is a real bucking monster out there that needs our attention. You can kill each other when this is over."
Spin cantered out to his apprentice, "Wondering when you would show up. Where in Celestia's mane have you been?"
"Is that really important? Two of our allies are coming to blows here!"
Spin nodded, "Understandable. You two think about what we're up against! Now kiss and make up." Owayn scowled, then slammed the head of his mace on the ground, turning to trot off to his supply chests. Venerax snorted, dropping down to all fours he slithered back into his cave, sticking his head back out to rest in the clearing.
Obviously still ruffled, Venerax discharged a plume of oily black smoke. "I've seen foals make more competent dragon slayers! No respect for their enemy anymore, not like the old days."
"Stop being nostalgic, there were no 'good old days' of dragon slaying. If you had a cutie mark, it would probably be a dead dragon slayer." Spin crashed down next to Venerax's head, uncorking his flask.
"I would personally prefer a dead wyvern cutie mark. Are you going to share or what?" Spin rolled his eyes as Venerax hinged open his jaw. Pouring a considerable amount of liquor on the dragon's tongue, Spin took a dram himself. "So old one, how do you know Little-wings?"
"Master-apprentice relationship. Besides that, I've been the town drunk for Princess knows how many years. Have you told him how severe of an insult you call him?"
"Bah, friendly banter. How is he working as an apprentice? Personally I believe he does not have a fighting bone in his body."
Klondike trotted up, sitting on his haunches near the dragon and his teacher. "Haha, very insightful, I am still here you know. Besides, I think they can hear Venerax back in Canterlot!"
Spin bit his lip, then nodded. "He has shown... potential. More so in the past day than previously."
"Still waiting to hear what you see in him." chimed Venerax. 'Chime' being relative to a cathedral bell.
"Hold your horses you great crocodile! I don't think he can control it yet."
Patsy and Owayn returned from removing their armor and weapons, stripped down to nearly bare fur. "Yes, go on young fellow, show our 'host' your little trick."
"I...I don't know how. I was afraid the first time it happened, and it just happened."
Spin stared Klondike straight in the eyes, "You can do it kid, just concentrate. Feel the feather, be the feather."
He nodded, closing his eyes he tried to concentrate, muttering a little mantra. "Feel the feather, be the feather. Feel the feather, be the feather." Klondike spread his large wings, still muttering his chant. Opening his eyes, he swung a wingtip at a rock. The feather tips brushed off harmlessly, throwing up a small puff of dust.
"Congratulations old one, you have succeeded in training a feather duster. If that is his special talent, there are some cobwebs in one of my corners that are demanding attention."
Klondike's head drooped, his ears laid nearly flat in humiliation. Spin tried to comfort him, "You gave it your best shot, we'll just have to work on it."
Venerax scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm, 'afraid' you say." Quicker than lightning he bared his teeth in front of the downtrodden pegasus, roaring with a force like a hurricane. Aiming just over his head Venerax sprayed a massive pillar of fire.
Klondike's wings snapped to attention, hardening with a raspy sound like scraping metal. Finishing his little test, Venerax reared back his head and wiped a small amount of magma from his mouth. "There you have it, a little fear to coax out the inner beast."
Klondike lay shivering on the ground, hooves covering his head with his wings comically standing upright. Spin gave him a careful nudge, then a hard push. The young pegasus burst from the ground, his Razorwing fighting instincts having taken over. Landing on his hind legs, he posed with his large wings spread out wide. Venerax reached out with a claw, sliding it along the edge of one of Klondike's wings. The tip of the claw fell to the ground, sheared cleanly from the dragon's hand.
"A Razorwing, most impressive. I have misjudged you Little-wings, if you can learn to control such a gift, you will be quite the valuable ally."
****************************************************************
Venerax dragged a claw through the dirt at the mouth of his cave, tracing a shape from his memory. He didn't bother with minor details, all he needed was a rough outline. The four ponies with him watched inquisitively as the dragon drew out his image. Though a modest drawing for Venerax, the ponies could have set up a comfortable camp inside of it with room to spare.
"Gentlecreatures, this is what we face." Venerax indicated the large sketch of a prostrate wyvern, splayed like the drawing was of a creature on a dissection table.
"That's it? I expected a lot more claws and spikes for something that has caused so much trouble."
"Learn to expect more from your opponents, little 'knight'. This beast is quite possibly the deadliest single creature that has ever taken wing. We dragons call them wyverns, and though they are our relatives they are nothing more than animals at heart."
Owayn snorted, "Oh yeah? If this wyvern creature is so close on the family tree, how do I know that this isn't some kind of dragon family reunion?"
"Bad move." murmured Klondike.
Venerax scooped up the knight, closing his claws around him. Owayn struggled to breathe as Venerax vented his rage. "They are not family to me or any other dragon! They are beasts, animals! They don't kill for righteousness or pleasure, they simply kill for food, and wyverns consume EVERYTHING! And their hunger is insatiable." He dropped the knight, fighting to control himself in the face of such allegations.
Klondike walked into the sketch, "What do we know about it? How does it fight?"
"Wyverns are living arsenals, every part of them is a conceivable weapon. What we must keep our eyes open for are the weapons that define them. Here, and here." He scratched once at the mouth of the wvyern sketch, and again at the tip of the tail. "They spray a beam of ice from their mouths, freezing anything in front of them in a split second. However, they prefer to attack first with the tail."
"What's the tail do?" asked Patsy.
"An apt question, wyvern tails are extremely long, thin, and flexible. At the very tip is a stinger of sorts that they use to inject a paralyzing venom into their prey. Some dragons say that they can consciously change their venoms to a more potent and deadly cocktail that they seldom use."
Klondike trotted up and down the sketch, looking for any opening in the incredible offense of the wyvern. "How do we fight it? It is guarded from both front and back, with those claws and wings in the middle."
"Which is why we focus our attack here." he indicated the base of the neck, right at the top of the breastbone.
"Seems kind of counter intuitive Venerax, going dead center leaves you open to all of her attacks."
"You misunderstand, the same venom that pumps through the tail of a wyvern also exists in their bloodstream. Wyverns are not immune to their own venom, not by any stretch of the imagination. Which is why they secrete anti-venom constantly throughout their lives, to keep from succumbing to their own venom."
Klondike drug a hoof through the spot at the base of the neck. "And this is where the anti-venom gland is?"
"Correct. Which is why they are so protective around the chest. That same venom is also why they have such fondness for the cold, it seems to dull the nearly constant burn in their veins."
"So if we can destroy her anti-venom gland, she'll die on her own."
"Theoretically, yes. In practice, I have no idea. I was stung by wyverns out in the tundra when I was young, but I survived after tearing out one of their throats in combat and consuming it, purely by accident I discovered the way to overcome them."
Klondike reached out with a wing, making an X at the base of the sketch's neck. "Stab the heart, and the serpent will die."
"Precisely. But this wyvern is not the only threat. This one is a female, and from what I have seen, this is no happy jaunt into the south."
Klondike kicked the X mark, scattering the dirt. "What do you mean? There's only one wyvern out there."
"Pray to your Princesses that you are right. For there is only one now, but soon there may be over a dozen."
"You mean there's going to be more of those damn things tearing up Snowreach!?" Klondike's wings were on the verge of going razor, the amount of anger and fear triggering the reflex.
"Wyverns are incredibly proud creatures, the only reason one would migrate so far out of their territory is because they were displaced by another. Normally they would fight to the death for control of a territory, but this one chose to flee south. Up north the air is thick with their cries of mating, and almost all the females are pregnant. And why would a creature of such imminent pride choose shame over death?"
It all came together for Klondike, "To protect her young... But why is this happening now? If they are such vicious creatures that breed so much, why haven't more come over the mountains?"
"They hate heat in almost any amount, wyverns will not even go out in the sun for fear of overheating. Compared to the polar tundras, Snowreach is balmier than the Great Southern Jungles. And though they breed more quickly than rabbits, their populations never grow too large. Due mainly to the fact that they are willing cannibals."
Spin shook his head, "Damn, if that creature has laid eggs then we have to split our attack. Both of our targets are high priority; but the eggs are the more long term problem."
"Indeed old one, with how long she has been here, she has to have born a clutch within that time. And they could hatch any day now. If the queen is capable of surviving here, her offspring will undoubtedly try to form a colony. Even if we kill her, her offspring could spell doom for all of Snowreach."
"Then we have to find that nest and destroy it! Klondike, you're the most mobile amongst us, it's up to you to find her den. But I warn you, do not try to fight her by yourself, you will die if you try."
"No need for him to scout, there is only one place where she could hide. A glacier not too far from here, next to a icy lake, it has everything she needs to survive the heat."
"I hope you're wrong about the eggs Venerax, but it makes so much sense. She's been taking food back instead of just eating it where she is."
The great dragon shook his head, "Come inside, the sun is getting low. She will hunt tonight, there is no doubt of that." Venerax drew his head back into his cave, allowing the ponies to come inside as well.
Klondike tossed his small stash of things down in a corner, finding a smooth section of floor to spread his bedroll out on.
Spin tossed his bedroll down next to his apprentice, "Don't get too comfy kid. We're going to do some practice tonight, no exceptions." Klondike reached down to grab his sword. "No, no blades. Just what you have on you."
A decent fire crackled inside the cave, Venerax allowing one because they were unexposed to the outside, thus not drawing any unwanted attention. The flickering light cast the shadows of the pegasus and his trainer on the cave wall. Instead of attacking Klondike, Spin had him face off against a stalagmite sticking out of the floor.
"Concentrate, let your body do the work." Klondike closed his eyes, breathing deep and letting it out. He focused as hard as he could, swinging a wing it brushed against the stone pillar, not leaving any impression whatsoever. "Come on, focus. Now try again." Again he futilely batted at the stone, again he failed to control the inner weapon.
Angrily he slapped his wings to his torso, "I can't do it! I can't control whatever makes these things work."
Risking being sighted by Owayn, Spin slapped Klondike with one of his concealed wings. "Don't you ever say that you can't do something! The only thing stopping you from becoming a true weapon is yourself. You just have to know how to unsheathe yourself."
"I. DON'T. KNOW. HOW! You're wrong Spin! I'm not a weapon, I'm a useless bookie who has bad nightmares and is too scared to admit he likes the local barmaid!"
Spin's enraged glare could rival a wyvern's breath for how cold of a stare he gave Klondike. "I've had ponies like you flogged for less defiance. And you know what? They were grateful for my help, and they turned into some of the best damn warriors Equestria has ever known!"
"I'm not a warrior! You want a weapon?! Fine, here's your weapon!" Extending his wings, he focused his thoughts into his wings, not asking them become weapons, he demanded and forced his wings to harden and sharpen. With a scraping rasp like a sword leaving its sheathe, he slashed at the column.
It stood still, for a second Klondike doubted himself, but the stalagmite tilted and fell, shattering on the floor. With a flick his wing feathers became soft again. Holding a wing in front of himself, he breathed deeply and concentrated. The feathers hardened with an audible schink! Letting go of the concentration had them back to feathers.
"I did it." he said to nobody. "I actually did it. Spin! I-"
A hoof punched Klondike in the face, coming very close to knocking a tooth loose. He swayed around for a second, then crashed to the stone floor. Spin stood above him, rubbing his hoof. "Lesson one, respect your teacher." he grabbed Klondike by the mane, lifting him to eye level. "Are you gonna keep giving me lip like that? Or are you going to jump whenever I say 'frog'?"
"...frog..." he croaked.
"Good boy, now keep practicing on those stalagmites." Spin let go of Klondike's mane, letting his head fall back to the floor. Spin walked back to his bedroll, uncorking his flask to take a sip. Sir Owayn and Patsy stared at him, their tasks of sharpening their swords and polishing armor frozen by the drama.
"That was a bit harsh on the boy Spin."
Spin stretched out on his bedroll. "Have to be harsh, if you don't kill them in training, they'll die the second they see battle."
"I say, what happened to your accent? You appear to have become more cultured in your vernacular recently."
Picking up a shed dragon scale from the ground, Spin drew it along the blade of his ax. Sparks flew as he sharpened the weapon. "None of your concern, so don't lose any sleep over it."
Over in the corner, Klondike slashed and hacked at any standing stone. After bursting through that barrier of personal doubt, he could control it easier with every slice. Hours passed with him learning the nuances of being a Razorwing. Besides just being able to cut with his feathers, he could fly while razored, though less effectively than normal. The hardened feathers could also act as a kind of shield, blocking a particularly nasty spray of rocks from a wayward slice.
After hacking through a particularly thick pile of shed dragon scales, he finally gave in to exhaustion. Sitting down, he noticed all the others had gone to sleep with the exception of Venerax, who stared out the cave entrance.
Walking over to his draconic friend, he sat down next to Venerax's leg. "Trouble sleeping?"
"I have slept plenty in the past few weeks." he kept his voice to a low rumble. Klondike squinted at his reptilian face, though it showed little in the way of expression, he could tell that Venerax wasn't looking for something, more along the lines of staring into space.
"What are you thinking about?"
"A story my mother told me as a hatchling. Among dragons there are many tales of the wyverns, most are myths that hold little truth. My mother told me only the most mythical of these tales, believing wyverns themselves to be myths. She was wrong. One story tells of a wyvern queen who was born pure white and without venom, a true stranger amongst her kind. Without the venom burning her veins, she gained a mind. The wayward queen had thoughts, dreams, hopes and goals. She saw the stupidity of her brethren and vowed to herself to never become an animal like them. She fled the tundra to seek answers for her great questions and purpose to her life. She ventured far into our lands, seeking acceptance in a world not her own. But dragon and pony alike saw the Snow Queen as nothing more than a monster, a beast born to fight and destroy. Vren'kasha looked upon the Snow Queen with pity, seeing that the Snow Queen felt lost and begrieved. Vren'Kasha told the Snow Queen that she needed a new champion to guard Tartarus, and a wyvern seemed to be a likely champion. The thinking wyvern was overjoyed, a purpose in life that she could fulfill while still being more than her kin. And so the Snow Queen ventured to the gates of Tartarus, challenging Cerberus to a duel to the death. The great beasts fought for weeks on end, shaking the bones of the earth with their struggle. In the end the pair sat exhausted from their duel, equals in every aspect. Vren'Kasha was pleased with the Snow Queen for holding her own against Cerberus, and she stopped the hound of Hell from continuing their duel. With the powers of her ice, the Snow Queen was granted guardianship of the deepest frozen depths of Erebus, to watch over only the most damned of the evil ones until the end of time."
"Who is Vren'kasha, some kind of Princess of the dragons?"
"The Lady of the Scale, the godly queen of dragons and indeed all life."
Figures, some kind of god. "Is this story true? Did an albino wyvern challenge Cerberus and become the watcher of Erebus?"
Venerax shook his head, "No, there is no knowledge of a wyvern ever becoming intelligent. It is simply one of the stories we are told as hatchlings to remind us of one of the four deadly enemies to dragons."
Klondike was shocked, "Four? What besides a wyvern could kill a dragon?"
Venerax extended a claw, dragging it through the dirt to tally off the creatures that could make dragons quake in fear. "The first is a threat from our own kind, more ambitious or larger dragons are dangerous to anything. The second are krakens at sea, their shear size and ability to manipulate water make them unmatchable. The third are the weapons of the long dead demon race. And the fourth, wyverns." Venerax peered at the moon in the sky, the image of the mare in the moon staring back at the world. "It is late Little-wings, you should rest."
Klondike stifled a yawn, standing up he stretched a few sore muscles. "G'night Venerax."
"Sleep well, little friend."
Klondike trudged back to his bedroll further in the cave, crashing down he closed his eyes and tried to sleep. But somepony was murmuring in their sleep, a certain grey pegasus was saying some rather interesting things.
"Redress the lines.......get the wounded away........you can't go in there alone..........no Fireflash.....NO!" Klondike nudged him with a hoof, instantly Spin had him face to the floor, one leg twisted behind his back.
"What did you hear?" hissed Spin.
Klondike's face was still ground into the floor, "Not enough. Who are you? And who is Fireflash?"
Spin let go, "You don't need to know."
Spitting out dirt and gravel, Klondike stood up. "Bullshit, if I can ever trust you, I need to know who you are Spin."
"Tell him old one." Venerax grumbled from the cave entrance.
Spin cursed under his breath, sitting back down on his bedroll. "My name isn't Spin. I chose that name because my life spun out of control the day I lost Fireflash."
Klondike sat down on his own bedroll, glancing at the knight and his squire who still slept like logs. "What happened? What did you do?"
"Fireflash was my apprentice. We were soldiers in the Equestrian army years and years ago, serving our Princess with a smile on our faces. Finest unicorn fire mage I'd ever laid eyes on, a true warrior and proud of it. One day, we get a transcript from Canterlot, saying that our detachment needed to head into some rough territory and clear out a nest of dragon whelps that was terrorizing a nearby village. Fireflash and I took point, but those dragons weren't alone in there in that hellhole. They'd partnered up with a hive of arachnes, intelligent spider monsters. We didn't stand a chance in there, so many dead in the first attack."
Spin was holding back a lot of pain, reaching into his pack he pulled out his flask. Taking a swig he returned to his story. "We fought for hours, Fireflash and I holding back dozens of them. We knew it was a one way ticket, and after we managed to beat them back I ordered all the troops to evacuate. Fireflash charged into their lair alone, detonating a magical bomb in the center of the hive, whole cave came down on him. He didn't make it back."
Spin looked at his flask, bringing it to his lips he hesitated. "Before that day, I never touched this stuff. I took what was left of my detachment back to Canterlot, I begged with Princess Celestia to make me suffer for failing Fireflash. But she said no, she had a better idea for me. She banished me here in her wisdom, to waste away the rest of my life in the north and make sure no monsters hurt the miners."
"In short, he was sent here to make sure I behaved."
"Shut up Venerax. But he is right, I was sent here to watch, and if necessary, slay him." Spin dropped his flask, pointing at the sword propped up against the wall. "That. That was Fireflash's sword, it's all I have left of him."
Klondike felt six inches tall, he had no clue he had stolen Spin's last relic of a treasured pony. "I'm sorry. I didn't know, Spin."
"Nopony knows, and I consider it my real punishment. He died as an anonymous face in the arms of an enemy. I deserve to rot up here, alone and unknown. You know something Klondike, you remind me of Fireflash. Strong, hot-headed, always the first to claim humility. And like him, you're terrible with the mares." Spin's bloodshot eyes showed a small glimmer of light, like Fireflash lived on through this nopony pegasus. "Keep the sword, Fireflash would have been proud to have somepony like you bear it."
Klondike looked at the exquisite sword that leaned against the cave wall, the steel casting a slight reflection in the dying lights of the fire. "You really believe in me enough to give me your old apprentice's sword?"
"If anypony here has the guts and the heart to kill this thing, it's you kid." Spin lay his head down, his heart heavy with sorrow for his tragic loss so many years ago.
**************************************************
He'd been gone for three days, and in that time the few ponies who went out to scout for that monster still reported bloody messes and sightings of the beast. Aurora worried for Klondike, of all the inhabitants of Windshear, he had been the one closest to her heart.
She'd admired him from afar, an out of place pony struggling to make his way in a world that used and abused him. But until that monster came around and forced them together, she and him had never really had the chance to talk much. The way he became so flustered when she was around was cuter than a baby bunny. And don't get her started on the way he boldly talked to that dragon every month! If there was one thing she admired, it was bravery. But the fact that he respected and tolerated Obsidian instead of fearing him was just the icing on the cake.
"Last call!" she yelled to the abnormally quiet patrons of the Goldrush Saloon. Nopony responded and most stood from their stools and left. After quickly wiping down the tables and the bar, she hung up her apron for the night. The other barmaid, Ruby Rose, was putting on her night clothes when Aurora walked in and grabbed a cloak.
"Where you going at this hour Aurora?"
She cinched the cloak around her neck with a broach, "The same place I always go Rose."
"Oh, your 'special place'. Don't keep me up too late waiting for you, boss says we have to be up early tomorrow to help the militia boys get the arbalests set up. And Aurora, please be careful. They say that monster is still out there."
Aurora's golden magic glowed around her horn, levitating a bow and quiver of arrows from her trunk to strap itself around the mare. Her dad had taught her to use it, just so she wouldn't feel so helpless when she immigrated out here to Snowreach as a filly just turned mare. "Don't worry about me, I can handle myself."
"Just be careful girl."
Aurora walked out of the saloon, locking the door after her. Drawing up her hood to keep out the wind chill, she brought to mind the image of the one place where she could be alone. Focusing her magic, the world blinked and shifted as she teleported to a small wood clearing at the edge of the river. For Aurora it was an incredible expenditure of magic to teleport the mile to her clearing, so every time she came here it had to be for a while.
On the far side of the clearing sat an old tree stump, pockmarked with notches and scrapes. Levitating her bow, she nocked an arrow and took aim. Firing, she felt a certain satisfaction as the arrow landed with a solid thunk in roughly the center of the log. Nocking another arrow, she placed that one within a half inch of the first. Then a third, then a fourth.
On the fifth arrow to fly downrange, she heard a distinct yet pleasing sound. "Split another one, again." Trotting downrange, she pulled her arrows out of the stump, giving the split one a dignified retirement into a pile of all the other arrows she had worn down to kindling. So what if she didn't advertise the fact that she was a nearly world class archer? It might make her more intimidating to that one stallion she had been dropping so many hints to over the years.
"Hmph, maybe I have been going about it all wrong. He is being trained as a warrior anyways, maybe he'd appreciate a warrior-princess. If he isn't dead already...." She suddenly felt very foalish, thinking about colts and girly girl things while some monster was out doing unknown horrors in Snowreach.
"Just as well anyways, he doesn't need some airy damsel in distress distracting him while he is trying to fight some monster." Carefully dropping her bow and quiver next to the stump, she lay down on a bed of pine needles, looking up at the night sky. The auroras were out tonight, and just as beautiful as ever. She smiled as she remembered the story behind her name. On the night of her birth, a storm had come while her mother was in labor. But just as she had taken her first breath of life, the storm cleared and an aurora danced in the skies. Such a strange thing, she was born in Manehattan, far away from any place where the auroras were visible.
Her cutie mark was almost always covered up by a cloak or an apron, and those ponies that actually saw it thought they were looking at some kind of musical instrument. Far from it, her cutie mark was of her preferred weapon, the bow and arrow.
Summoning her magic, she still felt too exerted to make the return teleport back to town. Laying her snow white head down in the grass and earth, she stared at the heavens. Feeling that, despite her ineptitude with sociability, that she wasn't alone. "Are you out there, looking at that same moon, at those same dancing lights?" she gave the expansive sky a grin, "Who are you thinking about?"
She couldn't stop thinking about him, though they had only ever embraced two or three times, and all of those in the past week. But his touch was firm, comforting, and to Aurora it was more addicting than pure Mexicolt star-sugar, with twice the narcotic effect. Dreaming lazily about flights of fancy and romance, she hardly noticed when she drifted to a gentle slumber.
But something was wrong, in her dreaming mind she could hear shouts coming from town, something about an alarm. Her eyes snapped open as something slammed the ground around her. Shrouding out the entire night sky, the only thing she saw was a pair of sickly yellow eyes hovering over her. Aurora opened her mouth to scream, but a shooting pain stabbed in her hip, and suddenly the world became very dim and faded to black.