The jostle of Applejack’s trailer threatened to pull Twilight’s eyes away from her tome as she read, but she wouldn’t dare let it succeed. She had spent the last four moons pouring into the contents of the scrolls and tomes she and Solaire had borrowed from the Solar Archives, and her only regret was that she couldn’t read them any faster. Combat magic was more complex than she realized; spells and counterspells, charms and hexes, there was even a wholly different brand of healing spells under this branch of magic to mend magically caused wounds.
A small, content smile never left her as her hooves turned the pages, and it sparked a warmth within the Warrior sitting across the small table in the middle of the trailer’s single ‘room’. Twilight’s thirst for knowledge rivaled the ambitions of the scholars of Vinheim. Truthfully, sorceries always went over his head; there were few mages among the nobles of Astora, and he found very little meaning in their strange texts.
Still, as the delighted glow of her smile seemed to grow with each passing tome, he regretted that he had not picked up a single sorcery scroll during his pilgrimage to share with her. The teachings of the Dragon School were said to be of the highest tier, yet somehow Solaire knew ambitious Twilight would rise and master them with nary a challenge. It was a shame she might never have the chance, though. He had heard that their coronations were something to behold.
They were making excellent time, much to Twilight’s surprise. Hiding in Applejack’s trailer allowed them to take the main roads to Manehattan without fear of being spotted by the Royal Guard, which inherently shortened their trip by a full moon. Twilight’s only regret was that Applejack was the only one capable of pulling the trailer, and she had been with breaks few and far between for the last four moons. Twilight was sure to always thank her whenever she had the chance, rather profusely, the salesmare would notice, but Applejack would hear none of it. From the stories she had heard, many of which apparently true, these Warriors of Sunlight deserved their rest, and she was more than willing to oblige.
The cabin shook heavily, signaling that they had gone off-road. Solaire and Twilight knew their cue, and the latter allowed herself two more lines before closing her book. Solaire stood, albeit at a low crouch, and shuffled towards the saddlebags piled in the back. The trailer was clearly designed to house a single pony, much less two and a man of his height, but he was grateful for the commodities they were given.
A small table sat in the center of the cabin with two chairs to accompany it, and Solaire wouldn’t dare impose and leave his summoner or their gracious host to stand. There was a small nook in the corner next to the drawers and closet that lined one of the walls. The loft above him boasted the single bed of the cabin, and nothing gracious Applejack could say would convince either of the Warriors to steal it from her. They had grown used to sleeping under the stars in the eternally frigid night and were more than thankful to simply have a roof over their heads.
Two quick knocks signaled from the door before it opened, a simple code they had all agreed to ensure it was safe outside. Applejack entered with a warm but weary smile. “We’re only a few miles from Manehattan,” she explained proudly. “Although I believe it would behoove us to wait until tomorrow. The Royal Guard established a curfew over the town during the sleeping hours before even I left, and I can hardly imagine they have rescinded it since. It may be easier to smuggle you indoors without any guards escorting us.”
“Whatever you think is best,” Twilight nodded contently. “We trust your judgement.”
Applejack opened her mouth to speak, but she cut herself off when she found Solaire sitting in the corner. She frowned. “Solaire, darling, why don’t you take this seat?” she offered, pulling the last chair from the table. “I’m sure it would be much more comfortable than that harsh wooden floor.”
“And leave you to stand after all you have done for us?” He laughed, “Nay, I shan’t even think of it. Your legs must be exhausted after such a long journey. You are far more deserving of a rest than I, dear Applejack.”
She couldn't help but blush, and she conceded to sit at the table across from Twilight.
“So, are you ready to return to Manehattan?” Twilight asked, stowing away her book in the saddlebag next to her.
“Am I ready?” Applejack chuckled lightly. “Darling, I should be the one asking you that question, not the other way around. After all, I’m not the one attempting to infiltrate one of the most volatile cities in Equestria as the Royal Guard’s most wanted.”
“No, but you are helping them,” Twilight countered knowingly. Her hooves shuffled anxiously on the tabletop, drawing her eyes as a pit formed in her stomach. “A-And again, I really, really appreciate all the help you’ve given us—”
“Now, now, Twilight,” Applejack interjected. “We’ve both been through our spiels more times than either of us would prefer to admit.” The unicorn blushed through a sheepish smile and rubbed the back of her neck embarrassedly. “Besides, I feel it is high time I returned home anyways,” she continued. “It wasn’t right for me to leave my family during such a pressing time.”
A moment passed as Twilight reflected upon her last visit to her home; her broken childhood streets, the rubble of her favorite café, the felled towers of the once majestic Canterlot Castle; everything orchestrated by a Nightmare to be a sick mockery of her memories. “Are you worried home won’t be what you remembered?” Twilight asked quietly.
The salesmare pursed her lips, and her eyes fell on her hoof as it drew a small circle into the table. She wanted to believe the sweet lies she told herself, but they would do her no more good than when she was in Baltimare. “Truthfully, I hardly recognized it before I had left,” she admitted. “I can’t imagine it’s any more than a shadow of its former glory, if even that.”
A somber silence seeped into the cabin, and Solaire felt the darkness it wrought weighing down on his party. “I often find it that home is more than a simple place,” he offered, earning the attention of both the mares. He removed his helmet and rested it to his side; there was little need for it here in the company of friends, and he did not want his sincerity to be lost.
“Astora was ravaged by a dark beast when I was but a child. It all but destroyed my homeland until its twisted soul was vanquished by a noble’s blade. When I left for my Undead pilgrimage, those who survived were still rebuilding it.” His lips pressed into a line, and he inspected his helmet in his hands, a finger tracing the single red plume. “I will never see Astora again,” he said darkly. “‘Tis the curse of the Undead. I might never know if my home will ever be restored to its former beauty.”
Twilight looked to him in surprise. In the last three weeks since they’ve been traveling together, Solaire had never opened up so much of his home. “And yet whenever in dark, troubling times, I still find it comforting to think of my home,” he continued. “Though it is rarely of the land I last saw, desolate and in ruins, but the home of my youthful memories.” He rested his helmet before him and smiled to Applejack, a warmth to chase away the solemn darkness in her mind. “Home is more than a simple place, dear Applejack, it is the memories you have made and cherish there, and it will never truly be gone, for it will be with you wherever you go, growing with each new, warm memory you make.”
She found his warmth contagious, and she returned his smile in kind. It never ceased to amaze Applejack how sweet and tenderhearted this Warrior was, but she could see it in his features beneath his helm; though small, there was a softness to them as well. It was a shame such a gentle giant hid behind a mask of cold iron.
“So, what was it like?” Applejack turned to Twilight, who suddenly became rather sheepish from the attention. “Your home, before Nightmare Moon, that is,” Twilight specified, twiddling her hooves together. “I read a little about Manehattan before her return, but…” Her voice trailed as her eyes flicked to Solaire. “I’m starting to learn that books don’t do everything justice,” she finished with a small grin.
“Oh, Manehattan?” Her mind trailed back in time, and Applejack felt a smile threaten to tickle her lips. It had only been five years ago, and yet it still felt like a lifetime. “Oh, it was simply divine. I originally came from a small, backwater town called Ponyville, and nothing could have prepared me for when I first set hoof in that gorgeous city.” She chuckled slightly into her hoof. “I remember my reception wasn’t the warmest, but I knew it was there I would find who I was meant to be. Why, there were so many ponies there, from all over the country like me looking to do just the same, it was easy to see how it became the cosmopolitan capitol of Equestria. There were so many cultures from across the country blended together so nicely, you could trot down two streets and feel like you were in another world.” She sighed dreamily and paused, looking to her guests with a faint blush. “Oh, but look at me ramble. I’m sure all of that means nothing to a Canterlot highborn.”
Twilight snorted and quickly covered her muzzle with a hoof. “Oh, I’m no highborn,” she shook her head dismissively and chuckled. “My father was a librarian, and my mother stayed at home to take care of me and my brother. Every now and then we’d go to the upper city to eat at one of the fancier restaurants, but that was the closest to ‘nobility’ we ever got.”
“Ah, pardon me,” Applejack apologized with an embarrassed grin. “I suppose I’m at fault for listening to rumors. They do tend to do little justice to the truth at times, don’t they?” They laughed together lightly, both for their own reasons. As it faded, Applejack couldn’t help but look to the mare with a slight guilt. Here she was, worried about what her home may have become in her absence, but at least she still had hers. Twilight, on the other hoof… “I’m sorry for what happened to your home,” she said softly. “What Nightmare Moon did to Canterlot… It was a dreadful thing to hear.”
Twilight’s smile faltered just a hair, and she looked to her hooves and nodded solemnly. “Don’t apologize; it wasn’t your fault. Besides…” She glanced to Solaire and thought of what he said. “It doesn’t feel like home anymore, nowhere really does. But that’s what we’re fighting for; to change that. A lot of ponies lost their homes when Canterlot fell, and we’re going to make sure that never happens again. Once we overthrow Nightmare Moon and bring the true Princess back, everything will go back to the way it should be. Well, after a lot of rebuilding, that is,” she added.
“Ah, look at us,” Solaire chuckled to himself, just loud enough for the others to hear. He looked up to them with a soft smile. “All from ruined homes, all seeking to help others, and now the three of us are here, in this dark, cold land with miserable souls. Could this really be mere chance?” He laughed and answered himself. “No, I hardly think so. The way I see it, our fates are intertwined, dear Applejack. I am grateful that you have joined us in our lonely journey, and I would hope the three of us get to see it to its end.”
His words carried a warmth with them, and the mares found his mood contagious. Applejack couldn’t remember the last time she felt so merry, so resplendent. She treasured this moment, hoping to cherish it some moon as a happy memory.
“It’s just occurred to me I still know so little about either of you,” she admitted. “What say we remedy that, before we lose this fleeting chance?”
“That sounds wonderful,” Twilight smiled.
“Shall I make another fire outside?” Solaire offered as he stood.
The unicorn thought for a moment, then shook her head. “Maybe not tonight; we’re too close to Manehattan,” she reasoned. “But you’ve done an excellent job these last few moons; you make for an amazing fire keeper.”
The Warrior paused, thinking of what he had just heard before bursting with laughter. Twilight couldn’t help but join, even if she didn’t know its true reason. Oh, what a crisis of identity he would have…
“I’ll prepare us a meal,” Applejack called as she moved to the pantry on the side of the cabin. “Oh, and don’t you even think of standing, Twilight dear,” she teased as the mare rose with her. “You are my guest, and I am going to ensure you have a proper Manehattan dinner before tomorrow. Solaire, darling, would you kindly sit at the table? No, I will not think ill of you for taking the last chair.”
She studied the contents remaining in the pantry and resisted the urge to frown. There wasn’t much left; she never intended to treat these many guests for so long. But by the stars, she was not going to let that stop her from serving these wonderful strangers. Applejack grabbed a hoofful of ingredients and balanced the last loaf of clementine cake on her back. She turned back to her guests with a broad smile. “Now, let us make the most of this chance.”
The flying gold glimmered faintly in the light of the Mare in the Moon. His gold. He wanted it. It taunted him with its blue wings. He grabbed at it with claws and snapped at its colorful tail with teeth, but it always fluttered just out of his reach. He cursed the gold. He wished it would land so he could add it to his horde.
The Moon Pony told him she would give him whatever he wanted; she said so in his dreams, and his dreams always came true. All he had to do was catch the purple pony and the shiny golem for her. He wondered if the Moon Pony would let him have the flying gold. It would be fun to play catch with in his cave.
Another figure darted across the sky, and his eyes narrowed. A winged pony, on its way to steal his gold. He snarled and cursed it; mocking him for not having wings of his own. Earth tore beneath his claws as he raced for his gold. Green flames licked at the corners of his maw as he panted.
The pony was still beating him. He scowled and took in a deep breath. If he could not outrace the pony, then he would scare it away.
Rainbow Dash lurched forward as the air shook with a roar. She braved another glance down, and the sight only encouraged her to fly faster. The dragon was gaining on her. His gnarled, green spine tore through the night sky like a twisted sail as his serpentine body slithered across the open field. It was as large as a hill, and its deep, emerald eyes bored hungrily into her and the golden armor she wore.
Moonlight glinted off the black mantle fitted on the dragon’s chest and the hawk-like helm formed over its head, and the pale crests of a crescent moon shone brightly on each. They were not for the dragon’s protection, Rainbow Dash knew. Its stone-like scales were a better shield than any armor Her Majesty’s blacksmiths could ever create. No, they were a brand; a grave, terrible brand that testified Nightmare’s power.
Between the beats of her wings, Rainbow heard another pair quickly approaching her. She allowed herself to glide and tilted slightly to the side to give the thestral ample space.
“New directions from the lieutenant,” the thestral called over the wind. She pointed a hoof over to the horizon. “There's a river five miles out. Keep your heading until we pass the gorge up ahead, and then incline northward to run parallel with the river. Keep an eye out for any settlements on the ground and adjust your flight path accordingly; don't want the package to get distracted.”
Rainbow nodded, thankful for the hoof gestures that made up for the few words she missed. “Understood. Thanks for the update, Snake Eyes.”
The thestral lingered next to the pegasus, and her eyes narrowed on her armor. Seeing an Old Guard in her golden uniform brought back bitter memories and reopened sore wounds. Rainbow could feel the daggers digging into her side as Snake stared, but she shrugged them off, keeping her own eyes pinned to the horizon.
“I bet that gold bucket must feel real nice for you,” Snake Eyes leered. “Must fit like an old horseshoe after all this time.”
Rainbow didn’t answer immediately. Truthfully, it wasn’t her armor; she knew all the nicks and scratches hers had earned, and she wore them as proudly as her medals once upon a time. But she knew what Snake Eyes meant, and she couldn't have disagreed more.
This armor was hollow. She felt it when Shining Armor first presented it to her. It was fitted perfectly for a mare of her stature, but even as her body filled it, as the mantle embraced her chest, as the ceremonial horseshoes clung to her hooves, as the gaping helm fell over her mane, she could feel the emptiness gnawing at her. This armor was once a symbol of hope to everypony when the sun set for the last time, entrusted to the Old Guard, and to its Remnants after the war. Now that hope was dead, and the armor was nothing more than glorified bait for a mindless beast. “It's heavier than I remembered,” she said, just loud enough for the thestral to hear.
Snake rolled her eyes. “Well, try not to get too used to it. Once this mission is over, it’s going back to whatever dusty, old closet Lieutenant Armor fished it out of.”
Rainbow didn’t say anything, signaling that Snake Eyes was overstaying her welcome. Beneath them, the dragon released another vain roar, and the thestral took her cue. With a huff, she banked to the left and took a wide arc back to the airship that trailed far behind.
Her Majesty's Sky Bastion loomed high over Equestria. Its cabin looked more suited for faring the open waters of the sea, but Snake Eyes wouldn't deny that there was an elegance to it, like a knife piercing the night sky. Moonlight reflected off its silver-plated hull as it hung suspended from the zeppelin by thick cables.
She touched down on the narrow deck and searched for the lieutenant. Not that it would have been hard; Nightingale had assigned a skeleton crew to the airship. Only a few nameless squires worked the upper deck, and she found Armor towards the stern speaking with a familiar colleague before the quarterdeck.
“Message delivered, sir,” she reported with a salute. “Your Shadowbolt will adjust to the new course.”
The lieutenant returned the gesture. “Understood. How was she holding up?”
“I'm not sure where you found her,” Snake scoffed with a shake of her head. “She must've been flying for two hours now and hasn't even broken a sweat. She might just be able to carry us to Manehattan by herself.”
“Well, let us hope it doesn't come to that,” Archer said on the side. “When we face the rebels, we’ll want as many hooves as we can spare. An exhausted Rainbow will do more harm than good if she’s stuck up here recuperating from the flight.”
“Speaking of which,” Snake butted in. She flashed her old partner a legitimate smile. “It’s nice to see you back on your hooves. I’ve heard unicorns and lightning don’t normally mix too well.” Archer was nearly taken by surprise. He hadn’t expected such a warm reception from her. “Besides, I need somepony I can reliably swindle out of their pay,” she added with a challenging sneer. “I’ve got a deck of cards on me. Waddaya say? A few rounds of poker to pass the time for old time’s sake? I’m sure your wallet has gotten a little heavy from all the medical leave pay.”
Ah, there it was, he thought to himself, and he returned her smug look with a knowing grin. “Oh, I’m afraid I’ll have to pass this time,” he declined. “I’m sure you can find some way to pass the time by yourself. What was that game called again? Solitaire?”
Snake Eyes huffed and rolled her eyes. “Please, playing solo is never fun in the end. I know I’m going to win anyways; it’s just a hollow victory,” she spat, waving a dismissive hoof. Her eyes darted to Armor, and the thought of new prey brought a spark back into her eyes. “What about you, lieutenant?” she prodded playfully. “Down for a couple games?”
“Gambling between officers and knights is prohibited,” Armor reminded her sternly. “Technically, you’re not supposed to be gambling at all, even with other knights.”
“Gambling?” the thestral gasped in shock. “Sir, I would never do such a thing. I prefer to think of it more as… friendly wagers in a game of keeps, winner takes all.” She pressed a sly grin, and the lieutenant gave Archer a sideways glance. The mage chuckled softly to himself and shook his head.
“I think Garrison might need some assistance determining a few break points,” Armor offered, his tone hinting that it wasn’t a suggestion. “Why don’t you go to the helm and make sure he doesn’t overwork our scout?”
Her smile died a little, and with a bored, deflating sigh, she turned to ascend the stairs leading to the bridge. The lieutenant waited until she was out of earshot before leaning in to Archer. “You’ve worked with her for a while, right?” he asked. “What’s she like?”
Archer hesitated, looking to where his old partner had disappeared. “She’s a hard one to pin down,” he explained. “At first, I thought she had simply joined for the money; it’s all she seems to care about, whether it comes in her paycheck or her ‘games of keeps’. But… somewhere beneath that shell is a sense of duty. Thestral pride runs deep in her blood. She’s loyal to the throne, almost to a fault I might add; off the record, of course. Outside of the occasional gloating of the war, she won’t cause any trouble with us Old Guards. So long as we all serve the same princess.”
Shining Armor noticed how he left his statement open-ended, and he was quick to quell any doubts in the mages mind. “Good,” he nodded. “Then there’ll be no trouble.” Archer took the hint and grimly nodded. “So, about what we were talking about earlier…”
“Ah, yes, the giant,” he nodded. “Well, as I was saying, he is by far the more powerful of the two. He will be the most difficult to forcibly detain, but I don’t think we will have to resort to that.” It earned a questioning look from his superior, and Archer was more than happy to explain. “Now, I speak from both reports of reliable witnesses and out of personal experience; this giant seems very protective of his companion. If we can manage to separate the two and capture the mare, I would wager that we would find him much more cooperative with detainment.”
“I see,” Armor hummed. Minimal conflict was good. If they could stop this whole ordeal with the capture of one mare, then that was their priority. “What can you tell me about her?”
“Oh, she’s just as determined as her bodyguard, I’m afraid. She won’t come quietly, either, but she should be far easier to handle,” he explained. “Although, she is familiar with combat magic, albeit vaguely, mind you,” he added, seeing the curiosity pique in Armor. “I can only assume she’s self-taught; she only seemed to know counterspells during our duel. However, if the information in Captain Nightingale’s briefing was true, then she has gotten her hooves on combat tomes.”
“And without formal training, any advanced offensive spells could be hazardous, for both us and her,” the lieutenant added, finishing the thought. He frowned. “As dangerous as the giant has proven to be, this mare just became a wild card. We’ll send Whirlwind to the Manehattan Guard as soon as we arrive, have them put on standby for whatever collateral damage this mare causes…” His mind trailed as his eyes fell to the cold earth far below, and even from this distance, he could see the gnarled tail of Her Majesty’s dragon flicker into view beneath the ship. “As well as our… asset,” he added grimly.
His company was silent, and when he turned, he found Archer focused intently on something only he could see. “Something wrong?”
Archer blinked, glanced to his old captain, and shook his head. “Oh, forgive me; I just reminded myself of something earlier.” He hesitated and turned back to Armor. “That counterspell you made, the ward… Did you ever teach it to anypony else?”
Armor’s brow furrowed. “I trained a few of our Guards with it during the Civil War, but I can’t remember all of their names,” he admitted, thinking back. “Why?”
“This mare…” Archer frowned, looking back to the rolling plains beneath them, as if they would offer answers. “I could have sworn I saw her use the exact same.”
To say Archer had earned his full attention would have been an understatement. It took Shining Armor months to perfect that spell, even more so to teach it to others, and few could truly master it due to the focus and power required to summon it properly. “Are you sure?” he asked slowly, as to not betray gravity of this revelation. If this rebel, a stranger, had managed to learn his spell… “Is it possible she’s another Remnant?”
“No,” Archer shook his head. “I would have recognized her if she was, any of the Old Guard would have. Not to mention she was too poorly trained; she had to have been a civilian.” A dark thought wormed into the back of Shining Armor’s mind, an itch he couldn’t quite scratch. It writhed within, and he found he couldn’t shake the dreadful unease that accompanied it. “Although I may be mistaken,” Archer dismissed. “To be honest, most of my memories of that moon are rather… hazy, thanks to the incident.”
“You haven’t talked about it much since you’ve come aboard,” the lieutenant noted, trying vainly to take his mind away from his squirming echo of a thought.
“Oh, I just don’t want to risk saying anything that’ll convince you to keep me on the ship once we reach Manehattan,” the mage chuckled. “I’m ready for round two, sir, and I’m not going to let a little ‘aftershock’ stop me.”
“Well, by Garrison’s estimates, we still have twelve hours before we arrive. Why don’t you go down to the bunks and get some rest?” Armor offered. “Just to be safe. I want you by my side and ready when we get there.”
“Well, far be it from me to ignore a direct order,” Archer smiled slightly. He gave Armor a nudge before he turned. “I’d recommend you do the same. I’m sure you’ve become an expert at quelling insurgencies by now, but I fear this is a different breed, even to what you’re used to.”
“I’ll take that into consideration,” Armor nodded. “But I still get a little airsick. I’ll probably just stay on the deck to clear my head for a little while longer. Now go get your rest; that’s an order.”
“By your command,” the mage bowed. He lingered, searching the area for any listening ears, and lowered his voice before respectfully adding, “Captain.”
Shining Armor couldn’t bring himself to retort as Archer departed. Truthfully, his mind was still lost thinking of this mysterious mare. As the mage disappeared into the depths of the ship, he deflated with a heavy sigh and leaned onto the railing. He watched as the earth moved below, hoping to quell the nausea rising in his stomach from the subtle rocking of the airship… and the unease growing in the back of his mind with this lingering thought. Why did it feel like he was forgetting something, something horrible?
Why did it feel like he was trying to forget?
He screwed his eyes shut. “Just one more mission,” he reminded himself, just loud enough so only he could hear. “Just one more mission, and it’ll all be behind me, all of it.”
He looked up to the sky and the Mare in the Moon and opened his mouth as if to apologize. But as Her unblinking eye bore into him, he had to tear himself away from the judgmental gaze and found himself staring northward.
“Just one more mission,” he repeated; a promise, to a mare far away that couldn’t hear him. “Just one more mission, and I’ll see you again. Just hang in there a little bit longer for me.”
