//------------------------------// // Chapter 2: Remnants // Story: Black Sun Nation // by Crysis Commander //------------------------------//         As the group trekked onward, Sunny couldn’t help but observe the surroundings. The early afternoon sun beat down on him, a set of armor and building husks no longer acting as protecting from the heat. Among the lifeless grasses and dead plants lay the the occasional set of scattered bones. None of them looked big enough to belong to a pony; perhaps they belonged to woodland creatures that couldn’t handle the initial magical energy of the blast or died not long after. Regardless, the vultures had eaten well for some time. Looking to they sky, nothing circled overhead. Either there wasn’t anything left for them to eat, or they had died, themselves; most likely the latter.         “You sure you know where we’re going?” Maverick asked, not aware of his whiny tone. He kept up pace with Arcane, who walked in front of the brothers, not bothering to look back.         “I marched down this route only a few times during the war, but I’m pretty sure I still know the way.” He grimaced, looking to his injured side. The bleeding had finally stopped, but the bandage didn’t hold much of it’s original color and the pain hadn’t subsided. Not wanting to concern his younger companions, he looked forward again, biting his bottom lip and trying his best to walk properly. As they approached a small hill, Sunny thought of the mare. Her eyes still looked into his, a fear in them that would never leave. The blood from her muzzle covering his hooves - the hooves he couldn’t bear to look at. He was a murderer. An innocent pony lay dead because of him. He swallowed hard, trying to keep his breathing steady. Did anypony see him do it? His heart nearly leapt into his throat when he remembered the colt. Would he tell the other guards? Would they come and drag him back to put him on trial? With the rage he saw in Haze’s eyes after the riot, he could kiss the rest of his life goodbye whether he was convicted or not. Calm down, Sunny! he thought in a harsher tone than he would have liked. Just calm down. Nopony else knows, so just, I don’t know, keep going and… try not to think about it. The more he tried not to think about it, the more the opposite occurred. He cursed silently to himself before he bumped into his brother. Coming back to his senses, he realized that all three of them had reached the hilltop and a vast lower valley lay before them. Looking across the landscape, Sunny could see why his brother and Arcane had stopped. As far as the valley stretched, aging pony skeletons clad in armor lay strewn about. Nearest them, the armor on a majority of the ponies had a darker color, most likely crafted from iron or some variation. On the far end, familiar golden sets of armor covered fallen Royalists. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came; he could only stare. His attention eventually went to Arcane. To his surprise, the other unicorn didn’t look shocked in the slightest. Instead, he looked out at the dead ponies with a blank stare. Before Sunny could ask if everything was okay, Arcane started down the path again, not saying a word. The other two followed, knowing not to disturb the older stallion in this state. As they neared the skeletons, more detailed features about them could be made out: two rebel soldiers lay together, one on top of the other, a rusted spear through both of their ribcages. An iron war chariot off to the left held a small group of Rebels, though deep burn marks around the hull of the vehicle spelled the fate they suffered. Reaching the farther end of the battlefield, it grew apparent that far more Royalist skeletons lay about the ground than Rebels. A tattered banner stuck in the earth waved in the wind next to a knee-high pile of golden-clad bodies, the hooves of some still clutching at their colors. Near the edge of the battlefield, a group of bodies surrounded a single one. Upon further inspection, the guarded pony’s armor held the crest of a Royalist general; even though his body had faded away a long time before, one could still feel the tension from the look of his bones. “General Hoover the Cleft,” Arcane mumbled, bringing the officer’s hoof towards him, studying the split in the bone. He turned and looked out across the boneyard, his hardened expression faltered, threatening to break at any moment. “I knew him. I knew the ponies in this company. I would have been with him if I wasn’t told to stay in Fillydelphia…” A sharp pain shot through his side, causing him to wince, though he tried to keep his expression to a minimum. Turning back to the dead officer, he loosened the straps on the chestplate and donned the armor himself. “He doesn’t need it, anymore - and I’ll be damned if I let Haze tell me where my loyalties lie.” Without so much as a passing glance, Arcane continued down the path, Maverick following suit. Sunny was about to join them when a glint of light hit the corner of his eye. Looking to his right, he saw sunlight reflecting off a small metallic object in the hoof of a Rebel pony. Curious, he trotted over to investigate. As he got closer, he realized that the object wasn’t an untarnished piece of armor as he had assumed. In the Rebel’s hoof sat a silver locket, the outside bearing the Royalist insignia. Despite the small crack in the Fleur de Lis, the locket was in better shape than any other piece of metalcraft he’d seen in a long time. Sunny’s curiosity getting the better of him, and figuring the owner of the locket must be long gone, he took it gently in his hoof and opened it. What he thought would answer his questions only added more. On the right side, a faded picture of a griffon looked back at him. She didn’t smile, though he could tell that she was content, calm even. From her neck down, she wore a Royalist flight uniform, one sizably larger than those issued to pegasi. On the left half of the locket, a marking was etched into the metal: a cloud producing a bolt of striped lightning. Below the bolt was a short message, though he could barely make out the words: “Lead the way, featherbrain.” “The hell is that supposed to mean?” Sunny mumbled to himself. He was broken from his thoughts by the familiar voice of Arcane, hollering at him to follow. Looking back to the locket, he put it in his saddlebag before running off towards his comrades. “Find a trinket, Sunny?” asked Arcane, half curious and half mocking. “You could say that,” replied Sunny, glancing back at his saddlebag. That mark, he thought. Where have I seen it before? Maverick, though keeping a good pace with the other ponies, grew more visibly impatient by the minute. “Can’t you guys use your magic and poof use where we’re going?” Sunny rolled his eyes and chuckled. “I’m afraid it doesn’t work that way, Maverick. There are - or, were - only a few unicorns who could ever teleport that long of a distance. Unfortunately, we’re not them.” “You won’t have to wait much longer, Maverick. I know there’s a town not far from here. Hopefully the ponies there will be able to…” As they ascended a hilltop, Arcane stopped, looking across the valley below. A short downhill walk away sat the makings of a quaint farmer’s village, not too few buildings to qualify as a shanty town, but not enough to be a city, either. Though he could see the outlines and colors of ponies, Arcane couldn’t help feel that something was off. “Oh thank goodness, ponies!” exclaimed Maverick, Without a second thought, he darted down the hill, saddlebags bouncing against his sides. “Hey! Anypony, hey! We need help!” Sunny gasped. “Maverick, no! You don’t know who they are, get back here!” With an aggravated grunt, he ran after his brother. As he grew closer to the town, he noticed a funny feeling. It started as a tingle in his horn, then morphed into a light, throbbing pain as he neared the outskirts. He chocked it up to a headache caused by the events of the day. Witnessing murder on that scale could probably do that to a pony. Or committing one. He stopped, a cold chill running from his horn to his tail at the reminder. What did I say about thinking about it, Sunny? Out of the corner of his eye, he swore he could see her face again, watching him intently. “Sunny,” said Arcane, tapping the other unicorn on the shoulder. Noticing the slight gasp and sharp look, he apologized for startling him. “You wouldn’t happen to have a hornache right now, would you?” “Yeah, why?” “Same here. Hey, Maverick, quit staring that pony in the eye, it’s rude.” Maverick looked back to his party and shrugged. “I can’t help it. She’s really good at this!” Sunny raised an eyebrow quizzically and walked over to the mare. “What are you talking abo-” He stopped. As soon as he saw the mare’s face, he understood Maverick’s fascination. Her face stared blankly at an unknown entity, every muscle and feature still. In fact, she didn’t even blink; she just kept staring. Is she… Sunny’s thought trailed off, taking a closer look. Frozen? Carefully, he reached out a hoof to touch her, but a sudden force yanked him away. “Don’t touch her, Sunny!” said Arcane sternly, his voice failing to sound as calm and collected as usual. He opened his mouth to say something else, but he noticed Maverick walking into a building not far from where they stood. Before he could go after him, Sunny’s hoof held him back. “I’ll get him.” As he left to pursue, he turned back to Arcane.  He trotted to the building’s entrance and opened the door. It was a bar; not the most well-furbished, though it housed several patrons, all of which sat frozen in place, same as the mare outside. A table near the front held a couple well-dressed ponies with cards in their hooves, a large pile of chips in the center. Off to the right, a unicorn patron with a bottle in hoof leaned across his stool to speak to a scantily clad pegasus mare, his expression suggesting his intentions. The bartender, looking at the display, held a cheeky smirk across his muzzle. Near the stairs on the left, an earth pony stallion wearing a fancy vest sat at a piano, his body poised and focused in concentration. As Sunny looked from one pony to the next, he heard a small chuckle from the second floor. “Maverick!” Sunny shouted. When he received no response, a pang of fear shot through his gut. There can’t be more than frozen ponies here… could there? He didn’t plan on waiting to find out. Darting up the stairs, he followed the sounds of his brother’s laughter until he reached a white-painted door at the end of the second floor hallway. He opened the door to find Maverick sitting on his haunches, laughing at a mare seated atop a stallion on the bed in a lewd position. “S-Sunny! They’re about to-” With a sigh, Sunny went over and Maverick off the ground, using a spare hoof to shield his brother’s eyes from the scene. “Yes they are, Maverick, but you can’t be wandering off like that. We don’t know what’s going on here. It could be dangerous.” “What? Is their freezing contagious?” “I’m not saying that, but we just need to be careful. Watch our step, you know?” Maverick gave him a salute accented by a “yes, sir”, signalling his understanding. “Okay, good. Let’s get back to Arcane.” As they descended the stairs, Sunny glanced at the bar, eyeing the numerous bottles behind the frozen bartender. “You go ahead, Maverick. I’ll catch up.” Maverick nodded, walking out the door without looking back. Once he was sure Maverick wouldn’t return, Sunny walked over to the bar, getting a closer look at the selection. His eyes fell on a bottle of bourbon near the top, unopened and calling his name. After glancing back to the door to be sure nopony else would see him, he levitated the bottle closer and put it in his saddlebag. As he was about to walk out, he grimaced and sighed, returning to the bar. “Look, I’d pay you with some rations, but I’m guessing they’d be long gone by the time this thing dissipates. Just thought I’d say thanks,” he said. As he expected, he received no response. With a slight nod, he turned around and left. As soon as he went through the door he bumped into Arcane, looking down at him with a less-than-amused glare. “Find another trinket, Sunny?” he asked flatly. “Yeah… something like that,” replied Sunny, trying his best not to look the older unicorn in the eye. He could still feel Arcane’s prying eyes on him, trying to force out some sort of confession. When none came, Arcane sighed and turned to Maverick. “If the aching in my horn is any indication, we shouldn’t stick around much longer. We’ll continue on until sunset, then set up camp.” Turning back to Sunny, he whispered: “When morning comes, there’s much we need to discuss.” His tone tied a knot in Sunny’s gut, a knot created by the uncertainty of Arcane’s intentions and his own anxiety. Did he know he took the bottle? Does he know about… her? His thoughts trailed off to the place he wanted so desperately for them not to. When he closed his eyes, her face was all he could see. As much as he pleaded for her to stop staring at him, she didn’t listen. As he left with Arcane and his brother, he looked back to the town. When he did, his heart nearly stopped. There, standing in the middle of the road behind them was the colt from Fillydelphia. Their eyes met, neither saying a word; their looks to one another said more than words ever could. Finally, he could see the colt mouth a single word, tears starting to stream down his face: “Why?” Sunny looked away, breathing deeply to steady his nerves. Despite his tightly-shut eyes, the image of the colt and his mother remained etched in his eyelids. His knees trembled and his body shook, the hot tears forming at the corners of his eyes. Stop… stop staring at me… he thought, as if thinking the words would make the images go away. When he could no longer bear  looking at the mental portraits of the mother and son, he turned back once more to face the colt. The colt was gone. “What the…?” Sunny mumbled, his eyes wide. Hearing this, Arcane craned his head to see what was up. “Something wrong, Sunny?” “N-no. Everything’s fine. Just… the sooner we get away from this place the better. My horn is really starting to hurt.” Nightfall came, and the group settled into their their poor excuse for a tent for the night. Sunny could hardly sleep, the events of the day resting too heavy on his mind. Despite his several attempts to sleep, it ultimately proved futile. He sighed, getting up while trying not to disturb Maverick. Geez, he just conks right out as soon as he hits the ground, he thought. Looking at his brother’s sleeping form, a smile slowly crossed his face. Despite all the turmoil and chaos in Fillydelphia - let alone their childhoods in the war - he could always count on Maverick to make life more bearable. Carefully, he reached down and gently ruffled his brother’s mane before stepping outside. Looking up, he gazed at the stars, the only remaining lights in the night sky. Though nights had been darker since the blast, the light of his horn more than made up for it. As his horn lit up, he breathed in the chilly night air. “Couldn’t sleep?” asked a voice. Turning to the source, Sunny saw Arcane sitting on the grass a decent distance from the tent, looking to where the moon would have been. “Yeah. Hard to sleep after a day like today. How did you manage it back then?” Arcane lowered his head to the ground, his horn lighting up like Sunny’s. “We found ways.” Turning to meet Sunny’s gaze, he gestured to the grass next to him. “Sit down, kid.” With a nod, Sunny sat down next to him, both of their horns providing enough glow so they could properly see one another despite the darkness. “I imagine you want to ask about what I found in the town. Look, I-” “I know it was liquor, Sunny. I can tell you right now that it won’t serve the purpose you want it to.” Sunny raised an eyebrow, looking at Arcane suspiciously. “What are you saying?” “What I’m saying is it won’t solve any of your problems.” He turned to Sunny with a calm yet stern expression. “I know that pain, Sunny. Not only did I experience that myself, but I saw how others tried to cope with it. I saw too many in my ranks turn to the bottle for help, for answers. You know what they got? Nothing.” “I’m not looking for answers, Arcane,” said Sunny, growing increasingly irritated. “Then tell me, what are you looking for in that?” “I’m just looking to be happy again, dammit!” Sunny spat, levitating the bottle over and shaking it in front of Arcane’s face. “What’s wrong with wanting to remove myself from the pain and suffering, even for just a short while?! I can’t just sit back and suffer silently, anymore! Every time I close my eyes, you know what I see? I see them, Arcane! I see the bodies of ponies from Fillydelphia and Baltimare, and I think to myself: ‘Why them and not me?’ Why are they dead and I’m not? Should I be?” Taking a ragged breath through clenched teeth, Sunny continued. “With that, I also think to myself that… I’m glad it wasn’t me. It sounds terrible and selfish, I know, but I just… I don’t want to die, but at the same time, I wonder why I’m not dead. I don’t know what to do, what to think, what to feel, what to anything, anymore! I just want to stop thinking, if only for a little while!” Sunny suddenly opened the bottle and brought it to his lips, downing a large gulp of the contents. As it went down, it burned his throat, causing him to cough violently. Despite his coughing fit, he continued. “Mmm, that’s good stuff! I feel better already!” With every word he spoke, the lump in his throat grew bigger, threatening to choke him. “Now I don’t have to think about Maverick’s disability being my fault, wherever the hell my mother is, or… or…” He paused, looking to Arcane with tear-stained eyes. It was only the second time he’d seen his mentor cry, but it was just as if not more painful to watch than the last. What little resistance Sunny held on to broke. He fell into his mentor’s lap, bawling like a newborn foal. Through his sobs, he tried as best he could to finish his sentence: “...or your injury.” Arcane rested a hoof on Sunny’s head, stroking his mane gently. “Shh, it’s okay. No shame in crying, kid. No shame.” He let his own tears fall, knowing that fighting back would no longer help. He held the younger unicorn close to him, as if it were the only thing keeping him from a similar state of hysterics. When the tears no longer came, Sunny looked up into Arcane’s eyes. “Your side… it’s not going to heal… is it?” “I’ll be fine,” Arcane replied, his tone suggesting he barely believed his own lie. “Don’t worry about me. If I can survive a civil war for over twenty years, I can survive this. It’s not my first rodeo, Sunny.” He squeezed tighter, letting out a heavy sigh. “I’m not going anywhere anytime soon. You’re my…” He paused, resting his head on the one below him. “... you’re my son. As far as I’m concerned, you're both my children. I won’t abandon you, and I’ll be damned if some wound keep me away from you both.” They both sat there, both attempting to comfort the other’s sorrow with their presence, the presence of somepony who knew their pain, somepony who would listen to their silent screams. Arcane wasn’t sure how long they sat there in that position, but when he felt Sunny drift off to sleep, he let go of him and got up. Looking down at the other unicorn, he couldn’t help but see himself all those years ago - before the war, before things became so unbearably complicated. It was a time when magic wasn’t used to enchant weapons, extract information, or to destroy; magic was used to create, entertain, and help one’s fellow pony. It was a simpler time, a time he wished Sunny had been alive to see. “Maybe you’ll see it someday, Sunny…” he whispered. Enveloping Sunny in his magical aura, he levitated his sleeping form back into the tent, a small smile crossing his lips. “I know you will.” With a yawn, Arcane walked over to the tent and took off his armor before curling up on the ground, sleep quickly overtaking him.         When Sunny awoke, the first thing he felt was the sun pelting his unshielded eyes. With a grumble, he got to his hooves, stretching whatever soreness or knots remained in his muscles from the day before. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Maverick still asleep, his body in a position he thought would be impossible for anypony to sleep in.         “Good, you’re awake,” said Arcane, carrying three canteens up the hillside around his neck. As Sunny looked at him, he could tell he held back a pained expression, the sides of his smile tight and unnatural. His legs buckled slightly, his breathing deep and drawn in through his teeth.         “You okay, Arcane?” asked Sunny, knowing full well that the unicorn in question was anything but.         Setting the canteens down by the tent, Arcane chuckled, quickly glancing at his injured side as he did. “I feel like a million bits.” Moments later, his head popped up with wide eyes and an excited smile. “Oh, that’s right! There’s something we need to do while Maverick is still asleep.”         Sunny watched as Arcane levitated a nearby flat rock to them, making sure the smooth side faced to the sky. Then, from his saddlebag, he produced a checkered game board. At the sight of the board, Sunny raised an eyebrow. “Is now really the time for checkers?” he asked.         “Pfft. Checkers? Think again, kid.” From the saddlebag came several intricately carved pieces, one group painted yellow and the other painted a dark blue. “You’ve never seen this one, have you?”         Sunny shook his head. The only thing he’d seen even close to this design was chess, though he’d never seen chess pieces like these before.         “That’s because this was a game played primarily by Rebel officers and tacticians. It’s called Princess Peril.”         Sunny recalled hearing the name before among the guards in Fillydelphia, though it had mainly been an inside joke towards newer recruits. “Looks a lot like chess. What the difference?”         “Let’s just say the rules are nearly identical - one exception being the pawns can move backwards like every other piece can - but you’ll find out the rest as we go.”         With an unamused huff, Sunny sat down, assembling his yellow pieces on the board. He made the first move, moving one of his pawns forward. He studied the piece, noting it beared resemblance to a younger pony, but no mouth, eyes, or nostrils were present. Assuming the first few moves would just be pawns moving closer together, Sunny asked: “So if this is a Rebel-created game, how’d you get ahold of it?”         Moving another pawn forward, Arcane smirked. “I picked up a trinket or two during the war. This is the only one I’ve made a point of keeping.”         Sunny moved his knight, a heavy armor-clad royal guardspony, behind his sizable wall of pawns. “You know, I never asked, but what was the war like? Was it always as bad as it sounded?         Sighing, Arcane made his move and looked downward, as if contemplating exactly how to phrase his thoughts. “It wasn’t always so bad. Started out as some minor civil disobedience, some protesters here and there - nothing we couldn’t deal with. After a year or two, the riots started up, and along with that, deliberate attacks against the guards, escalating to anypony openly supporting or working for the monarchy being a target. Again, nothing we couldn’t handle, but…” He trailed off, gesturing Sunny to make his move.         His curiosity peaked by Arcane’s account, he mindlessly pushed another pawn, leaving all of them moved forward one space. “Continue.”         “...but everything changed the day of the beating.”         “Beating?”         “There was a young filly in San Franciscolt, barely a teenager. A guard caught her graffitiing on one of the city’s temples to the Royal Sisters. Instead of taking her into custody, he beat her until she was black, blue, and bleeding. She didn’t die, but the city guards tried to cover it up, saying the guard acted in self defense.” Arcane moved his second rook behind a row of three pawns “After that, every pony even remotely unsatisfied with the Sisters cried for blood. That guard was found a few days later with a slit throat and the Rebel flag painted on his wall.”         “Damn. That start a bit of a chain reaction?”         Arcane chuckled. “That’s an understatement. Once the Royal Guard realized that they were targets, their numbers doubled, they armed themselves to the teeth, and became far more aggressive towards protesters. Less than a year later, the teenage daughter of General Shining Armor and Princess Cadence went missing. She’d been captured by a group of ponies aligning themselves with the Rebellion. They demanded that Celestia and Luna disband half of their forces and hold guards accountable for their actions against protesting citizens.”         “The sisters agreed, right?”         “No. They said they wouldn’t negotiate with traitors. Honestly, I think they were trying to call a bluff. They didn’t believe any harm would come to a hostage; they didn’t think a bunch of loosely-organized thugs had the guts to execute a princess, much less a hostage that young.” He paused, looking down and closing his eyes in solemn silence. “A package with the young princess’s severed wings and horn showed up on the castle doorstep days later.” “I… I don’t know what to say.”         “Neither did we, Sunny. Neither did we. That was the turning point, the point where we realized we were no longer dealing with a band of thugs looking to stir up trouble. We were dealing with a growing, deadly force that wanted the Sisters' heads on a platter.”         Sunny’s eyes widened. “How would they allow something like that to happen? Didn’t they realize that the rebels weren’t messing around?”         “At the time, no.” Arcane moved his right-most pawn forward one space. “Think about it, Sunny: they had been the only rulers of the land since its founding. No real complaints, no significant threats to their rule from the ponies, just a peaceful reign for over a millennia. They were Equestria. Once these ponies came along and declared war on them, they may have seen it as some sort of publicity stunt. By speaking out against them, they were speaking out against their very home. Once that guard was killed, it may have given them a wake-up call that something needed to be done and that the Rebels wouldn’t go away.” After watching Sunny’s bishop draw closer to his knight, Arcane took evasive action, hiding behind his pawns. “It only did so much to arrest anypony even speaking about the Rebellion in a positive light. In fact, it only added fuel to the Rebels’ fire.”         Advancing his pieces further forward, Sunny looked across the board at Arcane, puzzled. “Didn’t they know things would only get worse?”         Arcane placed one of his pawns next to Sunny’s. “Perhaps they didn’t want to know,” he said flatly. “Ignore, or in their case outlive, the problem and hope it would go away, but a festering wound” - he glanced to his side, wincing in pain - “thrives on neglect.”         After making his move, Sunny leaned forward anxiously, as if what he was hearing was not to be heard by anypony else. “So what else happened? How’d you survive so long?”         Looking to the board in concentration, Arcane moved his pawn one space from Sunny’s nearest piece. “I was only in a few major battles, kid. Baltimare was one of four, I believe. The rest of the time I was just keeping the peace in Fillydelphia or back home in Manehattan.”         Raising an eyebrow at Arcane’s move, Sunny moved his knight into position to take the piece next turn. “You have any family in Manehattan?”         “I have… had a wife. Not sure if she’s okay or not. She’s a tough cookie, though. She’s probably all right.” He grinned before moving his pawn backwards. “She’s probably waiting for me to come back so she can scold me for being late a couple years.”         Sunny glanced at the board, moving his piece to pursue Arcane’s. “Maybe. Would she understand you sitting on your ass playing a game of chess instead of trying to find her?” he asked, smirking at the board, as if he knew that he had made the smartest move in his power.         Arcane nonchalantly knocked over Sunny’s knight with his bishop, a pony in a dark cloak with her hooves to the sky. “It’s not chess. It’s Princess Peril.” To Sunny’s surprise, he levitated the piece back onto the board a space from where it had been slain. Noticing the look he was getting, he chuckled. “Oh, right. That’s another key difference between this game and chess: any piece you take out will come back in, but it will be under your control.”         Confused, Sunny looked to the piece, then back to Arcane. “How will we know who’s taken what piece?”         “You’ll just have to keep track, kid.” Resting his elbow by the corner of the board, he kept his head propped up while looking smugly at the younger unicorn. “I would tell you the secret to this game, but I’d hate to spoil your fun.” Though he saw the gears in Sunny’s head turn, thinking of a strategy, he patted the other unicorn on the shoulder and smiled reassuringly at him. “Hey, I know it’s a bit out there, but you’ll get the hang of it.” He pointed to his newly-captured piece. “In a war like the one we had, you could never tell who was friend or foe just by looking at a pony. You had to look more than skin deep. That’s why I stayed alive. Even if you think you’re with an ally, never let your guard down.”         His face twisted in concentration, Sunny looked at the board, noting the position of every piece he knew was his. Since Arcane had only take one of his pieces so far, it wouldn’t be hard to keep track if he took one or two more. He confidently moved a rook into position to take his former bishop next turn if Arcane didn’t move it. To his surprise, he didn’t, instead moving one of his knights from behind his pawns. “Aha!” Sunny exclaimed, moving his rook to reclaim his bishop.         “Hmm, not bad,” said Arcane, smiling and rubbing his chin with an hoof. Before Sunny realized his mistake, he moved his knight to take the other’s rook, leaving the newly-claimed bishop vulnerable on the following turn. “Hey, it’s okay, kid,” he said, noticing Sunny’s growing frustration. “It’s your first time playing it, and I haven’t told you all the secrets I know about the game, so don’t feel bad about not being able to win.”         “Hey, I haven’t lost yet, so don’t go thinking that I have,” Sunny seethed, coming across much angrier than he would have liked. Despite it just being a game, he didn’t want to be shown up by the old stallion; he didn’t want to be inferior.         Arcane smiled. “Very well. It’s your move.”         Sunny sent out his second knight. After Arcane moved his left-most pawn past one of his, he sent his second bishop to join the fray with his knight. I have to get to his king, he thought. I’ll have him right where I want him.         Moving another pawn past Sunny’s growing forces in the center, Arcane took a deep, happy breath. “Having fun?” he asked lightheartedly, knowing this would only agitate Sunny more.         “I will be when I win,” said Sunny, giving his mentor a quick smirk before moving his queen up to the middle of the board, hoping it would scare Arcane into recalling his forces in the center. To his dismay, the opposing pawns in his path didn’t move, only the ones on the side. He wondered why every move Arcane made didn’t come towards his king or even try to protect his own. Why are his moves so pointless?         When Sunny took one of his knights with his queen, Arcane cowered playfully. “Oh no, the mighty Sunny has invaded my territory! What ever shall I do?”         Sunny puffed out his chest, looking to Arcane’s side of the board with a smug smile. He’d win his very first game of Princess Peril and show Arcane just how good of a soldier he had become.         Arcane reached out and moved his bishop hidden behind his king, taking Sunny’s queen.        Silence. Sunny looked at the board, dumbfounded. He wasn’t entirely sure what to feel; anger, despair, anything other than what he’d been feeling only moments before. Okay, don’t panic, Sunny, he thought. Just fall back to your side and regroup. He went to move his knight back, but his jaw dropped when he found his side of the board swarmed with Arcane’s pawns. If he went forward, it would be suicide, but if he went back, he’d face an entirely different force. To his horror, he had nowhere to run. With a heavy, defeated sigh, he took is king piece, Princess Celestia, and put it on its side. “You win,” he said, not wanting to look the old stallion in the eye.         “Hey, don’t beat yourself up,” said Arcane, reaching across the board and ruffling Sunny’s mane. “You did good for your first game; you had a strategy and you followed it, but keep in mind that this game isn’t chess. It’s not about who eliminates the most pieces, it’s about outmaneuvering and outsmarting the opponent, reading their movements, position yourself so that they can’t hope to overtake you.”         “I guess you’re right. Doesn’t make losing any easier.”         Moving to sit next to Sunny, Arcane levitated his king piece, Princess Luna, in front of them. “You want to know one key to winning?”         Ears perked, Sunny looked to Arcane in excitement. “Totally! What is it?”         Arcane smirked. “Don’t lose yourself. Even in battle it’s easy to give in to the swirling hurricane of emotions and thoughts in your mind, but you can’t let them control you under any circumstances.” He set the Luna piece back on the board. “Emotions like fear and anger - the most common ones - can cloud your judgement. Your mind must be alert to your surroundings and your condition at all times.” He got up, heading to the tent while levitating the board and pieces back into his saddlebag. “Never lose your cool, even in the most trying of times.”         As Arcane went to wake up Maverick, Sunny sat and pondered what his mentor had said. He has a point, he thought. I lost my cool back in Fillydelphia on more than one occasion, and look what happened there. Just gotta be calm, Sunny. Be calm. He closed his eyes, taking steady, deep breaths, practicing what he’d do if a situation proved too much for him to handle. In that state, breathing and concentrating, it was as if the rest of world faded around him. In his mind, he felt his hooves touch the soft grass of the field he had grown familiar with, the figure of his mother before him, her smile as warm and inviting as her wings. As he felt them wrap around his form, a strange poking sensation jolted him from his trance. Opening his eyes, he found Arcane and Maverick staring down at him, both a bit confused.         “How could you be sleeping, Sunny? The sun’s up,” Maverick said, pointing to the perpetual eclipse in the sky.         “Um, I guess I was just a little tired. Sorry for keeping you both waiting.”         Once Sunny had gathered his own supplies, the group set off down the path, unaware of the pair of eyes that watched them from the shadows.