//------------------------------// // Chapter Twelve - The dragon of Coalspike Mountain // Story: Fairlight - The Fortress of the Four Winds // by Bluespectre //------------------------------// CHAPTER TWELVE THE DRAGON OF COAL SPIKE MOUNTAIN The flight didn’t take anywhere near as long as I’d thought it would. For such large and heavily armed warriors, the thestrals flew at a steady, rhythmic pace which I found refreshingly easy to keep up with. A pace too, it has to be said, that ate up the distance far better than I could have done on my own. From what I understood of thestrals, flight was seen more as a means to an end rather than something to be revelled in - a mindset that would be as alien to equestrian pegasi as they would be to the these extraordinary warriors from another world. I wonder if their wings had developed this way because of their environment? There were certainly few air currents here, or even weather patterns for that matter. According to Star Beard, seasons did exist in the Withers, but nothing the ones I was used to. It had been cold out this morning, with a fairly strong breeze which had all but vanished by the time we’d crossed the borders of the Beyond. Now, our leathery dragon-like wings thumped mechanically through their, propelling us inexorably towards our destination. Nopony talked. All kept their station in a fairly loose ‘Vee’ formation reminiscent of migrating geese. From some perspectives the manner of our flight might appear to be casual, almost lazy even, if it wasn’t for the fact we were all armed to the teeth. I expect the warriors deliberately flew this way so to ensure they didn’t tire too quickly in case they needed to fight - a constant theme it seemed with these enigmatic creatures. Shadow’s bed chamber certainly stood out in stark contrast to the rest of the thestral mindset, with the possible exception of Ember, her sister. Come to think of it, was Short Stride the same? I knew very little about the youngest sister. However, Ember, from my point of view at least, seemed completely normal. She was level headed, sensible, open minded, and pragmatic. Considering she’d been spawned from that monstrous lunatic Maelstrom, it’s nothing short of miraculous the sisters didn’t end up just as maniacal as their warped mother. Thankfully Far Sight, their father, and quite likely Star Beard too, had been on hoof to keep them on the straight and narrow. Casting my mind back to when I’d last been in the Beyond, I remembered that at some point, somepony had told me Shadow was ‘incomplete’. I still didn’t know what that actually meant, and when I broached the subject with Star Beard he’d deflected my question completely, advising instead that I ask her myself. Like that would be easy! It was hard to get more than two words out of Shadow as it was, without trying to ask her something that was no doubt intensely personal. Mind you, with everything that had happened during that hectic experience, I’d never had the chance to bring it up in conversation anyway. Besides, I’d been happy enough just to enjoy her company. Maybe one day she’d tell me, but in all honesty I wasn’t really bothered by it that much; she was who she was and that was more than good enough for me. For the several hours we’d flown, the landscape had changed little from the common vista of white crystal trees, white grass and rolling hills. There was the occasional river or stream, and on one occasion some small bat like creatures that I’m sure I’d seen once before, but other than that it was fairly unremarkable. At least it was, until the border came into view. Once again the Wither World threw everything I knew about geography out of the window, and the goddesses know how little I knew about that subject to begin with! Actually, was it even geography? Geology maybe? I was running out of ‘g’ words. Still, regardless of which fancy words scholars might use to describe the phenomenon, the Purple Sands just simply… started. The white grass disappeared abruptly, together with the crystal trees. What replaced them was an immense expanse of sand, purple sand, stretching out for as far as the eye could see. Huh! Very imaginative naming by this tribe then, I don’t think! It was no wonder the last earl wanted to merge the tribes. This was a desert of sandy nothingness, like the black sandy desert on the other side of the great lake. At least the Beyond had something to look at other than bloody sand. Anypony would get the impressions the gods had simply given up when they had created this world. Either that or they’d used it as a place to dump unwanted ideas – the veritable ‘odds and ends drawer’ everypony had in their house where they put things that they couldn’t think of what to do with but were reluctant to throw out. What a place! Early evening was coming on when we encountered the first, for want of a better word, ‘feature’ I recognised from Star Beard’s map. Rising up from the purple sand was a forest of thorny tree’s that apparently passed for vegetation here, although in all honesty to call them ‘trees’ was something of a large stretch of the imagination. The long tapered spikes on the black woody things could have skewered a pony from stem to stern several times over. I don’t know what sort of evolutionary tick caused that, but I hoped never to meet the creature those lethal barbs were meant to deter. More than the kinds of trees I was used to seeing in Equestria, these were more akin to the kind of things I used to pull out of the garden – brambles. If your idea of brambles was coal black and as thick as I was round the middle. They spiralled, twisted, and wound their way across the landscape, a warped nightmare of life dangerously similar in colour to the dark purple sand in which they grew, and a lethal obstacle to anything, or any one, unlucky enough to stumble into them. Beyond them, nestled between several hills and sitting silently upon the shores of a large lake, sat the village of the Purple Sands tribe. No bigger nor smaller that the Beyond’s, it was all but invisible from the air; black huts on a purple background providing a natural camouflage that helped hide them from view. Occasionally a wisp of smoke carried the scent of cooking or the faint chatter of voices on the light breeze, reminding the observer that there was a life beyond this hellish landscape. It almost made me long for the forests of the Beyond. Suddenly my ears pricked up. The distinct thrumming sound of beating drums rolled out across the lake like the heartbeat of some great beast waking up from a deep slumber, reaching up to us as we began our descent. Apparently, we were expected. I looked across at Thorn who had heard it too, guiding our unhurried glide towards the shore. Below us, the thestrals left their huts to peer up at us as we approached. The black and red armour of this tribe was still very much in evidence and, I confess, after my dealings with them in the dead city it made me more than a little twitchy. The last time I’d encountered this tribe they were going all out to kill me and kidnap Shadow. The bastards had killed Glimmer without a thought, and I couldn’t forgive them for that. She was another mare who’d died in front of me… Another who’d passed from the land of the living because I’d been unable, or incapable, of saving them. I mentally shoved the blood soaked image of the dying mare away before it coalesced in my mind any more than it already had. That was something I never wanted to see again as long as lived. My dreams however, were another matter. Many nights I’d been trying to sleep only to find myself in a state of semi-consciousness for hours, tossing and turning, my mind torturing me by replaying the most horrific memories it could find, over and over and over again. It was enough to drive anypony to drink. Thank the gods for tobacco and showers. A good wash, a smoke, and a book to read worked wonders. I don’t how many times I’d read ‘Boffo the bucking bronco’s biscuit bonanza!’ It was one of the books we’d bought for our expected foal. Silly perhaps, but it brought me a strange sense of calm with its childish simplicity and innocence that washed away the darker thoughts that were forever lurking in the recesses of my screwed up brain. Flaring my wings I landed with the rest of our group, releasing the wendigo magic and settling back into my more ‘regular’ self. I gave my mane a shake, staring down at my now grey leg. Gods, did I really think of myself as ‘regular’? I’m not sure I actually did any more. It was getting harder to think of myself as just a pony now; the wendigo side of me was just so… comfortable, I suppose. It was like a set of socks - it didn’t really matter which legs you put them on, they were all as comfortable as one another. Not that I wore socks of course, but Tingles did… nice ones too. Damn it! Shaking my mane again, I brought myself back to the present. There before me, was an avenue of armoured thestrals, and walking between them to meet us was… “Short Stride!” I shouted without thinking. All eyes were on me now, but I didn’t care. Beside me Thorn said nothing, his stern gaze remaining as impassive as always, although I could feel the irritation radiating from him at my complete lack of propriety. Shadow’s sister however, didn’t seem to care about such things, thank Luna. She trotted up to me and gave me a hug. “Fairlight!” she laughed. “You really have returned! Star Beard sent word you would be coming to see us, yet I could scarce believe it! He always said you would, and I never gave up hope that you would find a way to come back to us some day. But to see you here in the flesh, and in such good health too, truly is a sign that the all-father favours you.” She took my hoof, turning to address the tall male who drew up next to her. “Forge, this is Fairlight, the warrior I was telling you about. He is Shadow’s mate.” The slim but muscular young stallion looked at me at me with an expression that betrayed his uncertainty. “You are… a wendigo, are you not?” His voice slammed into my brain with all the usual subtlety of a speeding cheese grater. I bowed formally. “I am, Lord Forge.” “Please,” he said smiling slightly. “‘Forge’ will do. Ember has told me of your exploits here in the Withers. Alas, I was not in the city at the time our forces clashed. To have met you in battle would have been… spectacular.” It was an odd way of looking at things, but also stereotypically thestral. I returned his smile. “I’m pleased we can meet as friends though, Forge, your tribe needs more thestrals in its ranks, not less.” For a moment the big warrior watched me before bursting of with great raucous laugh. “Well said!” he thundered, clopping me on the shoulder. “I like you, Fairlight, I think my wife’s sister chose well.” Well, I couldn’t argue with that. After all, I hadn’t really had much say in the matter anyway. Shadow had decided I was her mate, and that, as they say, was that. What, I didn’t agree? Not in thestral society! I wonder how they’d have reacted if I told them I had a wife, partner, and two foals already? Probably bloody well congratulate me on that too; the more the merrier! Come to think of it, how would I introduce myself at parties or functions? “Oh hello! My name’s Fairlight, Lord of the four winds. Have you met my late wife and daughter? This one’s my partner, and the terrifying one’s my mate that I’m knocking off as well by the way”. What a line that would be! Mum would have killed me. “Come!” Forge said, leading me away, “We shall feast and drink together to welcome you to our home.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Storm Major Thorn, don’t think that I have forgotten you! Bring your warriors and join us, brother. Tonight the balta shall flow freely, the music play, and the food fill your bellies. You have brought a smile to wife’s face, and so too a joy to my heart. Today is truly a good day!” Our party, flanked by guards and the ever curious populace, followed Short Stride and her husband towards the great hall. It looked for all intents and purposes remarkably similar to the Beyond, even sporting the same banners which were no doubt a more recent addition following the tribe’s absorption into their conqueror’s expanding little empire. Short Stride’s marriage to one of their own nobility had doubtless smoothed some ruffled feathers, and was the kind of thing even equestrian aristocracy was noted for. Daughters and sons were brought up into a world were they would be used like bargaining chips in some wider game, married off to cement alliances, trade deals, secure land and so on and so forth. Love seldom came into the equation, although looking at the way Short Stride glanced up at her husband and his responding smile, I suspected that these two may have had more say in the matter than poor Shadow would have had with the last earl. If I hadn’t gutted him first of course. Thorn caught up with me, leaning down so he could speak quietly. “Captain?” I said nothing, but glanced at Thorn, letting him know he had my full attention. “Be on your guard here,” the old stallion cautioned quietly. “The Purple Sands tribe have been our enemy for generations, even from before the time of the great war. Forge is a strong warrior, but he is young and idealistic. Our presence here may not be quite so welcome to others within his court.” “You think we may be in danger?” I asked. Thorn huffed quietly. “It is not our way to be resentful to those who best us in battle, Captain, however some wounds run deeper than those of any blade. Memory, resentment and humiliation can be strong motivators that may force a warrior’s hoof, despite their better judgement. Forge is not one for adherence to tradition. Rather he has what you may think of as a… ‘looser’ approach.” He had a point. Forge was indeed young compared to the rest of the cloaked nobles I’d seen milling around so far. Unfortunately I knew so little about their customs I would have to take what Thorn told me at face value, something I hated doing. My watch training emphasised gathering information from as many sources as possible, analysing it, looking at it from different angles and leaving no stone unturned in the pursuit of the truth. To simply take what one individual said, no matter how reliable and trustworthy he may appear, was leaving yourself wide open to trouble further down the line. For now though I would accept what Thorn told me, and keep my wits about me. And my sword close. We were all soon lead away to an area where we could remove our travelling gear and freshen up whilst preparations were made for the evening’s official welcome. Short Stride and Forge bid a hasty farewell so they could get changed, although ‘dressing up’ was something I hadn’t given even the slightest thought too. Black tie and polished hooves probably meant little in the Withers, although one could never be too careful. I decided on keeping it simple, with a good groom, brush and tidy up. Sitting there giving my hooves the once over, it put me in mind of my days in the watch. Here I was, sat amongst the quiet warriors from the Beyond, all of them helping one another to remove their armour and stack weapons as if returning from an operation. It was done without a word, without fuss nor direction, each one aiding their brothers and sisters just the way they always had. As much as we were all tired from our flight, there was an electricity in the air, a sense of anticipation which I took as these strange creatures looking forward to an evening of drink, food and merriment. Or were they on edge because of where we were? It had been five years since the Purple Sands had been amalgamated into the Beyond, and as far as I could see, other than a change in management, little had changed. Short Stride had married into their ruling class and it was one of their own people in charge. As far as ‘conquests’ go, it seemed to me to be more in name than anything actually tangible as such. Was this how things worked here? My understanding of equestrian history was very different. The history books were replete with tales of conquest, where villages, towns, and even whole regions were invaded and effectively scrubbed from existence by the victor, eventually merging into one great ‘whole’. Granted, most of this happened abroad in places like the Llamalian Empire, Saddle Arabia, and so forth, but Equestria was far from being ‘pure as the driven snow’ when it came to the progression of politics ‘by other means’. As little as our own past was ever mentioned in school, it was still there, buried beneath the green grass and tall trees, mouldering in ancient ruins, or recalled as dimly remembered folk stories in some far away village somewhere. To the thestrals however, memory ran deep. Very deep indeed. It wasn’t long before our party was collected by some of the earl’s servants who lead us into the great hall. Thorn and his warriors were all seated together at a long wooden table opposite their Purple Sands counterparts, whilst I was guided to a seat at the head table next to our kindly hosts. I felt honoured, although in all honesty I would have preferred to have bit a little less conspicuous. It was bad enough being the only pony in there without having the thestral equivalent of a spotlight over my noggin, Lord or not. In short order however, our food arrived. Wooden bowls were passed around the assembled guests filled with long rubbery white ‘tubes’ which had been stuffed with something I’d rather not think too hard about. Judging by the smell and look of this steaming thestral fayre, the interesting offerings had once been wandering around minding their own business not that long ago - just before somepony had made the somewhat dubious decision that they’d be the ideal choice for an enjoyable repast. I know resource availability was an issue out here, but to think of other living creatures as no more than ingredients was not something I’d been brought up to consider. Sure, the griffins ate meat, as did many other races, we all knew that, it was just… we didn’t think of it much. Ignorance was bliss, I suppose. Fortunately though, with me being a herbivore, Star Beard’s expansive maid friend had provided me with a selection of comestibles that were, allegedly, vegetarian. What they were exactly, I hadn’t dared to ask. I popped one in my mouth and almost immediately regretted it. The flavour was unlike anything I’d ever experienced, and don’t particularly want to again. Ever! By way of description you could say it was somewhere between that of carpet felt and glue in consistency and… well, let’s just leave it at that. It took at least the next fortnight to get all the bloody bits out of my teeth. As for what it did to my insides, I could only apologise to the poor sods who had to clean the privy later that night. Right then I could only hope that my hosts didn’t take offence at my not eating their food. Seriously, I was starting to think it might actually a better alternative after all. As well as Short Stride, Forge and myself, several of the higher ranking tribal elders had joined us at the head table. Nopony had bothered to introduce them, nor had they shown even the slightest interest in doing it themselves either. Instead, everypony simply dived right into their food, drink, and very loud conversations. It was times like these I wished my hearing wasn’t so sensitive. With all the clicking, squawks, and clacking sounds around me it was like being trapped inside a very large bag of crisps. One that a giant was currently stamping on. Thank the goddess for the music! At least that helped drown it out to some degree. I took a sip of my drink, taking stock of my surroundings. Lamps had been set up at intervals around the interior of the black walled room, adding little to the light but possessing the horrific side effect of stinking to high heaven. Although externally very similar to the great hall of the Beyond tribe, the interior of Forge and Short Stride’s home was the polar opposite. Thorn had reliably informed me that the lamps used fish oil for fuel, although judging by the contents of the bowls on the table, I think they were eating the bloody stuff too. Thestrals were, of course, carnivores. It was funny, now I thought of it, but I couldn’t remember ever seeing Shadow eat anything other than fruit. Oh, and that ‘egg’ thing she’d found in the desert, but I don’t think that counts really. It certainly hadn’t been anything anypony in their right mind would have considered ‘food’. Maybe she was the one who broke the mold in the family - she certainly seemed different from the rest. It could have also been the reason why her mother had wanted to marry her off to that monstrous minotaur, the one who, ironically, would have been sat next to me now if he hadn’t been… ‘removed’. I sighed, rolling my shoulders. I wished Shadow were here with us tonight. Sitting up here I stood out like a three legged mule in a derby race. Still, with all the loud chatter and festivities, nopony seemed to be paying me much mind now that the novelty of my appearance had worn off. I just wish I didn’t feel so damnably self-conscious. At least the music was quite lively in the hall, with several horns and flutes playing a queer ‘old world’ kind of sound that I hadn’t heard outside of the renaissance fairs that were held in Ponyville each year. I would have loved to have been involved in that sort of thing too, but I just couldn’t get away with tights. Forge leaned forward, allowing a passing servant to fill his drinking cup. “So, Fairlight, how do you intend to find your mate in the mountains?” I felt a little uncomfortable explaining our plans to the earl. After all, it hadn’t been that long ago he would have quite happily killed me if he’d had half a chance. “I’ll simply be following the light of my heart, Forge,” I said with a polite smile. “That, and the blessing of the goddess.” I took a swig from my own cup, downing the strange drink in one hit. He gave me an odd look then laughed, slamming his cup down on the table, “Indeed!” he boomed. “What would a warrior be if had no light within his heart nor fire in his soul, eh?” He grinned expansively, receiving a roar of support from his fellows. “I speak for us all when I wish the blessings of the goddess of the moon to be with you on your quest, my friend. I have arranged for you to have whatever provisions you may need from our stores and, of course, rooms for you and your friends in our guest wing. Tomorrow, we will pray for your safety and the lady Shadows safe, and swift, return.” I nodded respectfully. “Thank you, Lord Forge, your hospitality appreciated. I pleased to see that-” Suddenly a powerful voice called out from the throng, clearly audible even above the music. “You’re all insane! Every damned one of you!” Forge leapt to his hooves, his chair flying out behind him, “WHAT?!” His voice was like thunder, pulling the attention of every eye in the hall. The music abruptly stopped as silence fell upon the gathering like a lead curtain before the voice rang out again. This time, everypony could hear it. “This!” The voice called. “All of this, it is madness! This fool will bring the wrath of the demon lizards down on us and we will burn in the fires of their wrath!” Forge’s voice was menacingly low, “Who speaks?” “I do,” came the voice. “Astral, of the Purple Sands.” A deep green thestral walked forward wearing a long black and red striped robe. “You risk war with the beasts of the mountains, my lord,” he announced in a more normal tone. “They will kill us all, down to the last child. You know this, and yet still give sanction to such a foolish adventure that could bring ruin down upon our heads. I say again, this is madness!” I could see Forge eyeing his sword before another of the thestrals stood, thankfully distracting him from what was gearing up to be a sudden, and very messy, end to the evening. He was an old fellow by looks of his wrinkles, although with all those scars it was hard to tell. Whoever he was, he banged his hoof down on the table as he addressed all in attendance. “Aye, we cannot risk war with the demons, your Earlship, our numbers are too few.” The old warrior cast his gaze around at his fellows. “I cannot understand why we would risk such a catastrophe for one mare who, in all probability, is in the belly of one of those monsters already.” There was a general chorus of agreement before silence descended once again. To say you could cut the atmosphere with a knife would be an understatement. Suddenly the earl’s eyes flared, and then, without warning, he leaped over the table in single bound to stand before Astral, smoke pouring from his nostrils. “Your concerns are noted, ‘brother’,” he snarled. “But you have openly insulted a guest within my house, and in so doing you insult me also. Astral, you more than anyone here know our laws...” “I do, my earl,” the green thestral said calmly. “I am prepared to accept the punishment for what I have said. I can only pray to the goddess that she lends weight to my words and helps you to see the truth of them.” Forge drew his sword as Astral knelt before him. Dear gods, I couldn’t believe what was happening here! “In the name of the moon!” I called out, rising to my hooves. “Earl Forge, please, stay your hoof I beg you!” Short Stride’s husband paused and turned to face me, a look of confusion on his face. “Why? He has insulted you! Would you not see him punished?” “No,” I said, shaking my head. “Astral’s behaviour may be inappropriate, my lord, but his concerns are understandable. Indeed, if I were a member of this tribe I would be thinking the same thing. After all, I am an outsider here, not of your tribe, nor even your race.” I walked up to Astral, looking him in the eyes. “You have not offended me, Astral, and I understand what you are saying. However, I do not look even remotely like a thestral, and I swear upon my honour that I will not divulge anything about my mission nor where I have come from to your enemies. Of that, you have my solemn vow.” “Ha! Fine words, but look at you!” he jibed, sneering up at me. “A mere slab toothed pony - a cursed ‘Celestian’ if ever I smelled one. You would betray us and see us all dead! Your kind never changes.” His lip curled in derision. “Damned cowards, one and all.” Forge’s eyes flared and he raised his axe before I lifted a foreleg to stop him. Staring at the kneeling Astral, I leaned forward and lifted his chin with my hoof, letting the anger and power surge through me. My vision began to tinge blue, my teeth lengthening and I felt my wings burst from my back and spread out with a leathery snap. I hissed my disgust and contempt out along with the mist from my haunches. “DON’T YOU EVER CALL ME A DAMNED ‘CELESTIAN’ AGAIN, OR I’LL TEAR YOUR BUCKING THROAT OUT!” The stallion’s eyes went as wide as saucers, the room seeming to freeze around us. Goddesses, you could have heard a pin drop. I looked from left to right; all eyes in the hall were on me now as I spoke, my eyes flaring in the flickering light. “You all see me now for who I truly am, now hear my words, warriors of the Purple Sands. I am the Lord of the tribe of the four winds wendigo, the lord of the fortress of the four winds, descendant of Maroc himself.” I bared my teeth, glaring down at Astral. “NOPONY will stop me from finding my mate, Astral, and no damned overgrown lizard will prevent me from bringing her home to her people. I swear to you now, as the goddess of the moon is my witness, I will send any pony, any ‘thing’ that stands in my way, straight into the jaws of hell.” Astral stared straight up into my eyes, his lips moving silently, before lowering his head. Behind me one of the thestrals began to bang his goblet on the table in a loud, steady rhythm that was picked up by one, then another, then another, until the whole room was filled with a rising crescendo of sound. I leaned down and reached out a hoof to the kneeling stallion, bringing Astral back up to his hooves. I looked into his eyes. “I may not be of your tribe,” I said levelly before clopping him on the shoulder, “but you are still my brother beneath the moon.” He simply stood there staring at me, his face a mixture of surprise and awe. Astral must have been expecting me to cut him down where he stood, and now that I hadn’t, he didn’t seem to know what to do. I marvelled at him. He was truly a brave creature, of that there was no doubt, and one who was willing to sacrifice himself to protect his tribe without a second thought. Around us the thestral warriors, those of both the Purple Sands and the Beyond, broke out in cheers. Right on cue, servants appeared carrying barrels and ladles to dole out whatever alcoholic beverages these frightening warriors consumed, breaking the strange spell that had held us all in that terrifying moment between life and death. Walking back to the table, Thorn leaned over to stop me. “How in name of the goddess’ backside did you pull that one off, Captain?” I let go of the magic, giving myself a shake as I became the token equestrian once again. “Buggered if I know,” I admitted honestly. And I was being honest too, these thestrals had seemed to change before my very eyes. Where I had once seen uncertainty when I’d first arrived, both in them and myself, now I saw them for who they truly were - a family, brave, strong, and true. Each of them were bound by a strong sense of honour and duty all their own. They must have been a terrifying force on the battlefield. “An impressive display, Lord Fairlight,” Forge said formally, taking his chair once more. “A rare sight indeed. One, perhaps, all too rare in this age.” I took up my cup, draining the last of the curious beverage. “I wish it were not so, Forge.” I waved to a passing maid who topped my up. “The goddess has her plans for all of us, of that I have no doubt.” “And Fate?” Short Stride asked, leaning across. I knocked my drink in one slug, licking my lips with a grin. “Buck Fate.” I held my hoof in air. “Another round!” A great cheer arose in the hall as the music wound up again, and the drink flowed like a waterfall. Gods, what a time to be alive... ******************** The morning saw me nursing a hangover the likes of which I can only describe as being of ‘epic’ proportions. It quite literally felt like somepony had beaten me repeatedly over the head with a mallet…hard. What the hell had been in that stuff? My stomach bubbled menacingly, threatening to empty whatever contents I had foisted upon it last night right back out again. “Oh, buck me…” I groaned, picking myself up off the rug by the fire pit. The thestrals were mostly still snoring away where they’d fallen over or just collapsed, drunk. Chairs, tables, it didn’t matter - anything and everything had become a makeshift bed. Damn it all, what the hell had I been thinking?! My mouth was as dry as a bone, and I kept getting wafts of bad breath that was doing nothing at all to help me quell the waves of nausea that kept snatching at me. There had to be some water around here somewhere... The door to the hall opened and Short Stride walked in, looking sickeningly fresh and alert. “Good morning, Fairlight. Did you sleep well?” “No!” I groaned, trying to catch onto the table as I stood. My legs were hopelessly uncoordinated and I nearly screamed when, out of habit, I went to give my mane a shake. My poor brain was aching horribly. “Gods help me, I think I’m dying here… What the hell was I drinking last night?” Short Stride giggled. “‘Balta’,” she smiled. “It’s a local speciality made from the squeezed glands of-” I held up a hoof to stop her, the room was still spinning and now I thought I was going to empty my stomach out too. “Please… don’t!” I pleaded. “I just need some water...” “I have something a little better than that,” Short Stride beamed. “My grandfather said you may need this in case you ‘indulged’ a little too much.” To my surprise, and eternal gratitude, she passed me my panniers. “I hope you don’t mind my bringing them.” What an angel! Carefully, the young mare helped me open the flap and extract one of the flasks nestled within. It was one of the most wonderful sights my gritty eyes had ever seen, and I clung to it like a life raft in the open sea, silently praying to the goddess it would be the ideal hangover cure I desperately needed. Sitting back on my haunches I took a long draught of the life-energy, almost choking as its concentrated magic sizzled through me. It was not pleasant. My body convulsed, fighting the intoxication I had inflicted upon it. Short Stride backed away hurriedly as I coughed and shook, locating a pitcher of water and a cloth that she brought over to my sweating, shiveringly pathetic form. As I sat there huddled on the floor of the great hall, I could feel my body quickly re-energising itself. Short Stride wiped my muzzle, the damp cloth gradually unveiling the ‘me’ I had drowned in alcohol only a few hours earlier. Only Luna knows how many brain cells I’d killed off last night. Hmmm, last night… hang on… where was Tarragon? Oh hell! She hadn’t ended up as a kebab for these warriors had she?! As if in answer to my unasked question, a snuffling noise from behind Short Stride quickly revealed a small inquisitive muzzle, swiftly followed by the elusive dragonling. Short Stride smiled sympathetically. “Most of your friends are outside waiting, Fairlight. I’d suggest you take your cute friend and go before this lot wake up. They’re not too fond of dragons, whatever their size.” They were all up? Dear gods, why hadn’t anypony come and collected me? Blast it, I had to move! “I’ll have to go and-” “All you equipment and clothes are here,” Short Stride interrupted. She lifted her hoof, pointing to the neatly laid out gear I’d left in another room the night before. “Thorn left it here for when you woke up.” She put down the cloth and picked up my flight suit. “Come. Let me help you.” I didn’t know what to say. For once I decided to keep my big mouth shut and let the young mare held me the way I had seen Thorn and his warriors. Packs, panniers, bags, weapons… Short Stride looked so much like her sister I began to wonder if this is what life in the Withers would have been like if I had stayed here with Shadow, readying myself for battle, my mare by side. This… This could have been my life. Why had I left? What if Star Beard had been wrong, and I could have lived my life here, with the mare I loved? I would never know, and perhaps, it was better that I didn’t. Right now I had to have hope, and faith, that I would find my beloved, and bring her home. Then, we would see what life would have in store for us. Both of us. Finally, with the last buckle closed, the last strap in place, I gave my kindly host a hug and the small leathery Tarragon clambered up to settle onto my back, snuggling into my mane. I smiled. It was now her regular spot when not being petted, rummaging through my saddle bags for treats, or narrowly avoiding being eaten. As long as I lived, I would protect her as I would any member of my family. “Thanks, Short Stride. Say goodbye to everypony for me won’t you?” I asked with a smile. She nodded. “Of course. I wish Forge had been here to see you off too, however he’s probably going to be sleeping for a little while yet.” The dark coated mare smiled gently, bobbing her head to me. “Take care, and give my love to Shadow when you find her.” “I will,” I promised. As the lady of the Purple Sands had said, the rest of the thestrals from our team were already assembled outside. Thorn watched me descend the steps, motioning to his warriors to get ready. I too took that as my cue, releasing the magic inside myself, allowing the power of the wendigo to fill me with its song. I was one step nearer now. One step, with many more to go, yet a step all the same. And so, with no more ceremony than a wave from Short Stride, we took to the air once more. Behind us the rest of the sleepy village was silent, with only a faint cloud of dust raised by our wings to suggest that we had ever been there. That, and the memories we left behind. I felt surprisingly enthusiastic this morning, even if my usual melancholy was still hovering nearby as it usually was. Despite Astral’s words last night, my hopes of find Shadow alive burned brightly within me. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but I doubted it. Fate would not have brought me this far simply to crush me, right? I glanced at the pendant around my neck, taking heart. She was alive. I knew she was. I closed my eyes and smiled. Death held no terrors for me, nor some oversized lizard. After all, I had my own dragon now, didn’t I? My own adopted daughter – Tarragon. Gods, with a wendigo and his dragon, who could stop us now? I watched another of the warriors take the lead in our formation, allowing Thorn to fly up beside me. “Are you well?” he asked. “Better than I deserve to be,” I replied. “That stuff packs one hell of a punch.” “Balta?” Thorn sighed. “I blame myself for that, Captain. I should have warned you. From my experience, equestrians are not used to such potent spirits. Still, it may have worked out well for us in the end.” “Oh?” I asked curiously. “How’s that?” “Your display of strength last night,” Thorn replied. “Conviction. Purpose. Honour. These are all traits our people respect, and the amount of balta you consumed was also noted. Warriors pride themselves on how much they can consume before succumbing to its effects. I saw them watching you, and even old Long Tooth passed out trying to keep up with you.” “What?!” I blinked in surprise. “You knew what that stuff was likely to do to me, and you let me keep on going? Bloody hell, Thorn, whose side are you on? It could have killed me!” “A normal equestrian, perhaps,” the old warrior observed. “But you are no mere pony, are you?” “I…” I groaned, giving my mane a hard shake. “I see your point.” “Good lad,” Thorn grinned. “Now, as we have a little time to spare, I would like to speak with you about what you know of your ancestors...” Sure enough, the ancient warrior began quizzing me about what I knew of the tribe of the four winds. He had known them, at least to some degree, and had even met Maroc during the war where he’d served as a Major in the army of Nightmare Moon. An army known as the ‘Legion’. Apparently, and to my surprise, it hadn’t just been made up of thestrals, but also of many other races, including ponies, minotaurs, griffins, dragons, sirens, and goodness knows what else. Although the conflict had taken place in equestria, it looked like every race you can imagine had had some sort of stake in the outcome. I still wasn’t entirely sure how I felt about that. After all, we’d all been brought up with the stories and legends of the nightmare that had threatened to plunge the whole of equestria into eternal darkness. Yet now, after everything I’d been through though, I’ll confess I’d begun to wonder just how much of those stories was grounded in truth, and how much was, quite literally, simply legend. Thorn himself seemed fascinated by wendigo, with an almost childlike curiosity that was heart warming to see. From what he said, it appeared that they had been revered by his troops for their prowess in battle. I could believe it too, if my memories of the battle at River Valley had been any indication. Yet to be respected by thestrals, a race of warriors who excelled in fighting having been brought up in a world where war was a way of life, was hell of a thing to live up to though. Personally I’d rather not fight for my life at every given opportunity, although the wendigo within me would doubtless disagree. When the fighting was at its peak, the all encompassing song of death would begin within me and I would dance to its tune, a curious blend of both puppet and master at that same time. And, goddess forgive me, I loved it. In some respects it frightened me just how much I actually enjoyed the sounds and smells of combat. The screams, the blood spraying through the air, the feeling of being truly alive… I shook my mane. Sometimes I wondered if I were in truly control of my own life, or just along for the ride. Sometimes. A dank and musty smell began to tickle my nose, laced with an earthy, woody dampness. The cloying odour steadily grew in intensity until, sure enough, ahead of us the unmistakable outline of the Tallow Marshes hove into view. Without pause we flew over them, disturbing a group of small bat like things that rushed out of our way, disappearing into the cover of the scattered trees. The dark canopy and long leafed plants below had that same dark colouring as the rest of this land. And they steamed too, the warm muggy clouds reaching up and catching my throat, making me cough. “Don’t breathe it in,” Thorn called over to me, gaining height, “marsh gas can sicken the unwary. Keep above the clouds.” I did as he suggested, flying up above the foul smell and flew on in formation with the others. Around an hour later the first signs of solid ground began to appear, and beyond that, the unmistakable outline of the mountains, sitting black and ominous against the skyline – the home of the dragons of the Wither World. Eventually finding a suitable area, Thorn brought us down and the thestrals immediately began to set up camp with their customary efficiency. I noticed the old warrior wince as he shrugged himself out of his armour to help. “Are you going to stay here, Thorn?” I inquired, looking around at the bleak landscape of desolate rock and sand. “Why not go back to the Purple Sands village? They’d look after you there until I return.” I took one of the ropes in my magic and helped haul the canvas into place whilst another rammed a peg into the ground. “Look after us?” Thorn huffed. He adjusted one of the rope tensioners, moving onto the next in quick succession. “Think I’m too old for a few days in the field do you?” “Not at all,” I said honestly, letting go of my magic. “But why stay here when the Purple Sands tribe are willing to offer shelter and food to you and your warriors? I think I could find my way back from here. Besides, Short Stride would welcome your company.” He stared back the way we’d come. “Yes, they’d be very hospitable I’m sure. But still...” His eyes took on a far away look. “I can’t forget what they did to my son.” How could he? They’d booby trapped his son after crucifying him, turning him into a living bomb. Thorn had been forced to kill him to end his suffering and protect the rest of the warriors in an act that must have torn his heart in two. Goddesses help me, I couldn’t even begin to imagine how he must have felt. I knew thestrals saw such tactics as legitimate to achieve victory, but Thorn was still a father and Nimbus was his only son. Even now I keep wondering if there was something I could have done for him, something other than just letting him die such a horrible death. It was one more memory. One more nightmare to add to the rest. He cleared his throat, “We’ll stay here until we exhaust our supplies, then we will return to the village and await your return.” “Sounds like a plan, Storm Major,” I said, trying to lighten the mood. “A plan...” he muttered. “No plan ever survives first engagement with the enemy,” he quoted, half to himself. “Which is why-” “A good soldier knows how to improvise,” I finished for him. Thorn looked up at me in surprise. “Some things in life never change,” I said with a smile, nodding to myself as the finishing touches were made to the tent. “Soldiering, being one of them.” The old warrior huffed loudly, smoke rising from his nostrils. I heard him mutter under his breath, “Ponies...” Soon, most of the work erecting the camp was finished. Pickets were sent out, orders relayed, the fire laid, and Thorn, ever the old soldier, took the free time to inspect his hooves and armour. As for myself I checked my own gear and, finding everything to be in order, lifted the crystal up before me to check my bearings. Sure enough, the light was directing me toward the mountains in the distance. Only the goddesses knew for certain what awaited me there, and frankly I didn’t think they’d be letting on any time soon. We weren’t exactly on speaking terms these days. As if in answer to my thoughts, a faint breeze tugged at my mane making me shiver involuntarily. Out here, the concept of any kind of deity seemed as empty as the land itself. It was as if the gods had forgotten about their creations altogether. And perhaps, they really had. The thestrals still worshipped the goddess of the moon, but where was the moon here? Luna was in Equestria, her alter-ego of Nightmare Moon consigned to the dustbin of history. Like the Legion. Like the thestral warriors who had fought for her. Poor bastards… I glanced over at the mountains, fancying that I could see one of the great lizards soaring across the distant smoke wreathed peaks. I’d never met a Wither World dragon, and I was hardly keen to encounter one either. The huge drake I’d encountered in the caves beneath my homeland had been terrifying enough. I have to say though, it did surprise me that there were dragons here in the Withers, and in Equestria. Yet there were no thestrals there. I suspect we had Celestia to thank for that. Taking a deep breath I cleared my lungs, and after checking my gear one last time, prepared to leave. Tarragon was still firmly attached to my back and squeaked at me when I leaned round to make sure she was alright. Tiny green eyes peered into mine, conveying a level of conviction that echoed my own. What a curious thing she was. Personally I would have liked to have left her with Short Stride, but like all females she had a mind of her own, and truthfully, I was quietly grateful of the company. “All set, Captain?” “As much as I can be, Storm Major,” I replied. I closed my eyes, letting the magic flow through me before testing my wings with a few experimental flaps. “Wish me luck.” Thorn clopped me on the shoulder. “Warriors make their own luck, Captain.” He stood tall, his military bearing as clear now as it had been in his youth. “Fortune favours the bold, does it not?” “Aye, that it does,” I chuckled. “That it does.” The rest of the warriors carried on their duties around camp as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening. And you know, perhaps they were right. To them this was simply another duty that had to be completed. I was going to collect my mate and bring her home. It was as simple as that. A rolling tingle of excitement fizzed through my body, broiling up around me in a cloud of pure white mist. It was time. And so, with no further ceremony than that, I bounded into the air and flew on in the direction the crystal’s light shone brightest. These warriors weren’t big on goodbyes, and I was all the happier for it. I would see them again soon. ********************* The air here was unlike any mountain air I’d ever come across before. This was warm, with a strange sulphurous smell to it, reminiscent of eggs that had gone bad. Combined with the pungent odour, occasional updraughts of heat would catch my wings, causing me to readjust my flight line. None of this seemed to bother Tarragon, who chirruped and took off from her perch to fly around me, swooping and diving, clearly enjoying the strange environment. For my liking, the black rocky slopes, crags and gullies, were bleak and foreboding. How anypony could live in such a place was unfathomable to me. Maybe to dragons though this was the perfect place to be, a veritable reptilian paradise of heat, smoke and noxious fumes. Interestingly, I quickly noticed how my diminutive dragonling’s colouration blended in so well here. Other than her green eyes, she was all but invisible if observed from above, and it most certainly aided her in gathering food as, with a squawk, a small winged beast became an on-the-wing snack for the young dragon. All I managed to catch sight of was a bit of wing and a leg which thankfully disappeared in a couple of gulps. I checked the crystal, adjusted my heading, and flew on. With any luck I wouldn’t be in this part of the Withers any more than necessary. It was take months to get the smell out of my gear, to say nothing of my coat. Mist, steam and smoke all hung in the air here, swirling and blending together. The cloying and oppressive way it clung to my exposed fur, particularly my nose, was making flying a less than enjoyable experience to say the least. The noxious fumes around me only added to the misery, stinging my eyes which began to water incessantly. Once again I wasn’t wearing my flying goggles, but the bloody things were so uncomfortable I’d left them in one of my panniers. I’d have to reappraise my stubbornness in that regard when I landed next. That was, if I could find somewhere that wasn’t totally exposed to the elements like it appeared to be for what looked like miles around. Flying higher up helped with the discomfort to some degree, but I quickly discovered the smoke was even thicker here in places, and my eyes felt like they were on fire when I hit a patch of it. Tarragon began to squawk insistently, flapping around me while I was busy checking my heading for the umpteenth time. “Not now, Tarragon, please.” I was still on course, but this thing never gave any indication of how far you had left to go until- “Tarragon!” I sputtered in alarm as the little dragon flew right into my face, shrieking like a banshee. What the hell was she doing?! The dragonling flapped against my muzzle with all the subtlety of a damp wash-leather. Something had clearly spooked her, but what? Gently moving her aside I turned to face where she was staring, wiping my sore eyes and trying to focus through the drifting miasma. Was that…? Damn it, I couldn’t see a bloody thing in this! Why hadn’t I worn those blasted goggles?! I blinked back the tears from my streaming eyes, looking again. At first there was nothing, but then a second later, just as the clouds parted… a shadow on the rocks. I focussed, slowing my speed for a better look. Far below us a winged creature flew, hugging the ground closely. A dragon? No, it was much smaller than that. I recognised the outline of the leathery wings, the streaming tail… Dear gods, it was a thestral! And it was moving at speed as well. Suddenly a monstrously large black shadow passed overhead, briefly making me look up in time to see the largest dragon I’d ever seen. Abruptly it lifted up, pulled in its wings, and dive down on its intended prey with terrifying speed. I dodged out of the way, snatching at my magic, but the beasts focus was not on me – it was on the thestral below us. I heard a cry of fear carried on the wind, it sounded distinctly… female. Oh goddesses no! Channelling the spirit’s power through my body, I dove after the dragon which had already snatched the thestral up in its claws and was powering away into the dark sky. The harrowing cries of the its stricken prey echoed across the bleak landscape, dragging at my heart and lending speed to my wings. I could barely keep up. Despite its size, the dragon was incredibly fast. The thing’s dimensions were simply staggering too. I couldn’t remember anything from Maroc’s memories of one this size; even the one he’d fought in the pass was dwarfed in comparison. Something told me it wasn’t exactly friendly either, and that flying after one was probably not going to end well. But if that mare the beast held was Shadow, if the vile creature had her in its great taloned claws… As if sensing my concerns, Tarragon chirruped and squawked loudly, flying up and encouraging me onward. By the gods she was fast! She was surprisingly insistent too, and once again my inability to communicate with the tiny creature frustrated me. Soon however, our chase with the great dragon would end, but then what? I didn’t have a plan. Oh, I’d run various scenarios through my head of course, I always did, though nothing had prepared me for this! I’d just have to improvise something on the hoof and pray to whatever gods in this place would listen, that I could pull it off. To make matters that little bit more interesting however, thick, almost yellow sulphurous clouds began to surround me, all but blocking my vision of the surrounding landscape to the point where I found myself flying virtually blind. I dived, picking up speed, angling myself to try and draw every last ounce of speed I could muster. Now I was navigating only by occasional glimpses of the ground through breaks in the cloud, but I just couldn’t slow down, not now. I had to reach that thestral, come hell or high water. At the back of my mind was a strange tickling sensation, the proverbial itch I couldn’t scratch. Whatever it was, it made me look behind me to see a group of heavily armed thestrals heading my way. I pulled up and attempted to call to them but they charged past me with set expressions, locked inexorably onto their target. Banking steeply, I flew after them until I was able to pull alongside the nearest of them - a muscular deep maroon stallion with a short black mane and yellow striped grey armour. “Who are you? What are you doing here?” I called over the wind noise. The warrior eyed me with disdain. “The demon has stolen one of our daughters! We will have that foul beast’s head for our tribe’s trophy wall. Do not stand in our way!” “Which tribe are you from?” I asked, as we dived low over the rocks below. “The Broken Cliff tribe,” he called back. “Who are you, stranger? What are you, and why are you here?” “My name is Fairlight,” I shouted, “of the tribe of the four winds wendigo. As for why I’m here, you could say it’s the same reason you are.” “Well then, Fairlight of the four winds,” he replied, eyeing me, “if you truly are a wendigo, then I will welcome your help in defeating the demon lizard.” “You already have it,” I called back, fixing him with me blue eyes. He gave me a smirk, showing his long teeth. “I am Stone Hammer, brother of Needle.” “Well met, Stone Hammer,” I replied. “I thought dragons didn’t enter the land of the thestrals? Isn’t this an act of war?” “You may want to take that up with him when we get the chance!” he shouted. “Now save your breath for the fight, wendigo. Battle awaits!” I nodded, keeping station alongside him until, in the thick cloud up ahead, I could just make out a tiny red light growing rapidly larger by the second. Tarragon screamed and flapped her wings, digging her claws into my neck. The sharp pain made me bank to one side, as almost simultaneously a concussive blast of flame rushed past me, singing my mane. In my lurching flight, I inadvertently slammed into Stone Hammer, knocking him from the fire’s path. The warrior looked at me in irritation but then shook his mane, smiling, and nodded his understanding. Clumsy I may be, but for once, Fate had shown she could show mercy. I doubted it would happen again. The two of us dropped down below the clouds then flared our wings before touching down on the treacherously loose rock of the mountainside. I folded my wings, quickly adjust my equipment and freeing my weapons. There was no doubt where the dragon was now. Before us was the mouth of a gigantic cave, and judging by the scorch marks, the source of the fire that had nearly barbecued us. It was a natural choke point; the gigantic beast that lurked within could doubtless incinerate us in a heartbeat, and didn’t appear to have any qualms about doing it either. Celestia’s sagging arse, if this wasn’t Shadow, what the bloody hell was I doing here?! Was I really going to risk my life to save a creature I had never met before when I was so close to finding my mate? Relief warred with determination in my mind. What did it matter who it was? I would be damned if I saw another innocent die when I could step up and do something about it. Who was I anyway, a coward? No. No, I had my honour. I knew what I had to do. Myself, Stone Hammer, and several of his warriors hurried across the rocks, taking position on one side of the cave entrance whilst the rest took the other, all of them hefting a selection of heavy axes and spears. It was a little too close quarters for my liking, especially considering the sheer size of our foe. Instead, I readied my pulse gun which Stone Hammer looked at curiously before shaking his mane, dismissing it as unimportant. A weapon was a weapon, after all. Tarragon had disappeared again I noticed, but a rummaging in my saddle pack soon gave the little dragon’s location away. I was glad of it too, I didn’t want these thestrals seeing her just in case they decided to eliminate any ‘future threats’. Or the one carrying her. They had already risked war with the dragons by coming here, but what choice did they have when one of their tribe had been taken? I doubted the dragons would bother themselves considering such trivial things as one of their number causing the encounter in the first place, however that was of secondary concern right now. I could feel my heart racing, the magic pulsing through me. Freezing mist curled around my haunches, mingling with my breath. It was time for the song of war… Stone Hammer took a step back warily, then smiled with a brief nod of his head. “It is true then…the wendigo really have returned.” I didn’t want him to read too much into the situation. “Not really,” I breathed. “I’m afraid there’s only me, and I’m on a rescue mission of my own. Right now though, let’s see what we can do to rescue your friend, eh?” He gritted his teeth, nodded once, and then signalled to the thestrals on the other side of the entrance. As one they began to move, heading straight down the dark throat of the cave. My heart sank; this looked like it was going to be a frontal assault after all. So much for tactics! Shit! Hadn’t I witnessed one of these already recently? That brash foolishness had ended in disaster for the soldiers then, and they were a damned sight better armed than these guys - at least in ranged weaponry. I checked my gear and snorted before heading in after Stone Hammer. I was here now and that was all there was to it. I could only pray these warriors knew what they were getting themselves into. Luna, I wish I did. The interior of the cave was as black as night, the walls and floor thick with a greasy soot that did nothing to help your footing. The overwhelming smell of sulphur was everywhere, permeating the very rock around us. Bones and general detritus littered the dark interior which our team, moving as quietly as possible, penetrated cautiously. At least they hadn’t gone charging in, axes flailing. With any luck we may actually- From deep inside a low rumbling growl rolled out, followed by a resonating, laughing voice. “So, more of you have come calling have you? Welcome… Welcome… I would hate to keep guests waiting…” My mane stood on end, my back shivering under the audible onslaught. I began to develop the distinct feeling we were completely in over our heads here, and despite my new friend’s enthusiasm, it was looking like our rescue mission could quickly descend into little more than a futile suicide mission. “Come!” the voice laughed from the invisible depths, “…a little closer now… just a little further...” The wan light from outside barely penetrated this far into the cave, the visibility falling all the more the further we ventured into those unknown depths. I lifted my muzzle, using my wendigo magic to try and squeeze the most I could from my sight. Stretching my senses to the limit I could see… something. What was-? From further back in the darkness I caught sight of a small red flickering light, one which was rapidly building in intensity. My heart leapt at the realisation - it was the precursor for another attack! “GET DOWN!” I screamed my warning a split second before the boiling blast of searing flame engulfed the cavern. It was too late. Thestrals around us howled in agony as their hides were incinerated, their wings burned away in that searing inferno of death. In a flash of blinding light, the once proud warriors were left writhing on the unforgiving floor of the cave – those who hadn’t been lucky enough to have perished instantly. My hastily constructed shield of magic had protected Stone Hammer and myself from most of the blast, but many of the others hadn’t been so lucky. Time, however, waits for nopony. “NOW!” Stone Hammer bellowed, and the remaining thestrals, screeching their war cries as they ran, charged into the cavernous interior where the huge mass of the dragon awaited. Inside, a scene of utter chaos unfolded before me. Thestrals dived from above and charged from below in a brutal melee of thrown spears and swinging axes. Some of the warriors held back, shooting bolts from their heavy crossbows to cover their brethren whilst the dragon bellowed in pain and rage at the onslaught, swinging its huge tail like some monstrous spiked flail. As for myself, I was too slow. Catching myself and another thestral, the impact threw us bodily into the side of the cavern like a foal’s toys. My head hit the rock wall with a sickening crack, the blow leaving me dazed and with blue sparks of light dancing in my swirling vision. As I tried to gather myself, I could only watch helplessly as the creature’s great head darted out, those massive teeth, each the size of a sky carriage, biting down on one of its attackers. Blood and entrails sprayed out in a nightmarish fountain of dark gore, yet despite losing one of their number, the rest of the warriors didn’t let up their attack for an instant. Slowly, my vision and hearing came back to me. Regaining my senses, I readied my beam gun, emptying a whole crystal’s worth of the deadly energy straight at the dragons belly. The brilliant green bolts of searing magic hit the thing’s scales in a blinding shower of magical light and heat. A direct hit! The world took a breath... and paused. Breathing hard I pulled myself to hooves, watching in horror, as incredibly, the blasts did nothing more than make the dragons scales glow… and get its attention. The monstrous beast lifted its head and inhaled. I knew what was coming next. Almost instinctively, I fired a beam of concentrated magical energy from my horn straight into its cavernous mouth. The dragon cried out horribly, swinging it great clawed arms and tail, smashing thestrals about as if they were as substantial as smoke. Clawing at its mouth, the creature shrieked and gasped before stopping suddenly. Slowly the great scaled head turned, one eye open, fixing me with a massive golden reptilian stare… it was seriously pissed off. Great Luna, how the hell were we going to stop this thing?! The thestrals had done some damage to the dragon but it hadn’t slowed the beast down, not even for a second. Now nearly half our number had been added to the dead already scattered about us in this nightmarish place. I drew my scythe and flicked the blade out; doing things ‘old school’ looked like the only thing that could damage this hideous creature. Howling in defiance I launched my attack, the full power of the wendigo surging through me as I span, slashing and hacking at my opponent. Around me the thestrals attacks continued, though slowing as the warriors numbers, as well as their strength, dwindled. Despite their bravery they were tiring quickly and neither their blows nor mine combined made any appreciable difference to the black scaled dragon’s armoured hide. I leaped back as a huge whooshing noise above me signalled another blast was imminent, and I lunged to my left, pulling one of the thestrals out of the way of the oncoming fiery death. Fortunately for us, the flames were directed at two other warriors whose horrifying dying screams echoed even as the roaring fire died away. It was then, in that desperate moment between life and death as we sheltered in the corner of the cavern, that I spotted possible salvation. It was a low tunnel, leading off the main chamber. I didn’t know how long it was nor whether we stood a chance of getting out of here alive, but my earlier assessment had been right - this was a bloody suicide mission. There’d been no sign of the female thestral the dragon had taken, and I suspected the hapless mare was already in the monster’s belly before we’d even entered its lair. I glanced down at the maroon thestral beside me. It was Stone Hammer, his armour was smashed and he was bleeding from multiple wounds. I reached down and grabbed him in my forelegs, pulling him to his hooves. “For the goddesses sake, come on!” I shouted over the cacophony of battle. “We’ve got to get out of here!” “No!” he gasped. “My sister needs me!” He tried to pull away but I hung on. “She’s already gone! For bucks sake, we’re done here, Stone Hammer. This is suicide!” “You’re a damned coward!” he snarled. “Crawl back into your hole if you’re that scared, wendigo. You abandoned us at River Valley and you abandon us now! To think I used to look up to your people. I even denied the stories the old ones told of your treachery. You’re all the same...” “Don’t be a bloody fool!” I shouted back at him. “We may as well be fighting the bloody mountain!” I gazed into his eyes, trying to make him see sense, yet all I could feel was the fire of his conviction. Some of them were still fighting, true, but we were getting cut down like wheat before the scythe. What had I missed? Couldn’t we do something? Could we really just turn tail and run? “There must be another way,” I said calmly. “But a frontal assault is killing us. We have to fall back and re-think this.” I felt something move in my pannier. It was as if a spark of light had burst in my mind. I looked him in the eye. “I have an idea. Do you trust me?” “Are you mad?! I don’t even know you!” he shouted over the din. “But… Damn it, fine! Let’s move!” We made it to the tunnel entrance just in time. A massive claw arced past where we’d been only a heartbeat earlier, gouging rock from the cavern walls like they were made of paper and showering us in fragments of stone. Hammer and I rushed through the tunnel and I prayed I hadn’t lead us into a dead end, or we’d be just that – dead. Our hooves thundered, my heart beating hard in my chest. The tunnel turned sharply, narrowing, then lead us up a short slope. Taking a moment to catch my breath, I offered a silent prayer of thanks that my gamble had paid off. So far at least. Scrambling up over the rocks and debris, we found ourselves overlooking the main chamber, and the carnage of what had been a rescue attempt turned blood bath. “By the goddess…” Hammer gasped. “My brothers and sisters… they’re all…” I leaned close to his ear. “Shhh, keep out of sight. I’m going to try something.” The gigantic reptilian creature below let out a bellow of victory and began casually dispatching the odd twitching thestral with a quick snap of its jaws. The dragon had won, and it savoured its victory, letting out a low rumbling laugh which reverberated around the cavern. It wasn’t quite over for Hammer and I just yet, however, I still had to try and get us out of this mess alive. But maybe, just maybe, where brute force had failed, guile and deception may prevail - if I could pull it off. Closing my eyes and concentrating my magic, I allowed a small trickle of mist to spill out over the edge of the ledge into the cavern below. It was just the tiniest dribble of scent, barely even perceptible. Gods willing, it would be enough. A few moments later, I had my answer. Below us the dragon paused, snuffing the air curiously. Narrowing its eyes, it swung its huge head from side to side, trying to determine where the scent was coming from. Then, abruptly, it stopped. Closing its eyes a sinister chuckle escaped from deep inside the great beast’s throat. “It has been many years since I smelled the winds of winter… wendigo.” The dragon’s serpentine tongue flicked out, tasting the air. “I had thought your kind had gone from this world, and yet here you are… in my home. How ironic.” Taking a deep breath, I called out, “Why ironic, great lord of the mountains and skies? Did we not fight side by side in the armies of the moon?” The dragon let out a blast of fire straight to the roof, the heat passing over me in a wave as the creature screamed out its hatred. “Cowards! All of them! They ran like whipped dogs, shrieking and crying as we dragons fought and died to cover their escape. All to save their own miserable lives!” Snarling, the dragon bared its enormous teeth. “All they are fit for now is food to sate my hunger.” “That is not how it happened, great one,” I called back. “My ancestor was there and I saw, through his memories, what happened that terrible day. Both thestral and wendigo fought side by side with the dragons, and all fought as one beneath the light of the goddess’s moon.” “LIES!” he bellowed. “All of you fled! I saw your ‘ancestor’ flee the field with the rest of the rats when you should have stayed and fought to the end!” My anger was rising, and it took all my willpower to stay where I was. “My people were all but annihilated by the white witch, dragon. We fought when all hope was lost, and we paid the price for our resistance with the blood of our kin. My home is in ruins, the bones of my ancestors frozen amongst the ice of the mountains where once we flew, proud and free. Now, I am all that survives of our tribe. You are killing those who fought with you as brothers. Where were you, when the fighting was at its height?” The dragon rose up and slammed its forelegs into the ground, making the very walls shake. “Where was I?” he thundered. “I was watching my own brothers and sisters die as I fought the traitorous scum who’d sided with the Celestians. Fighting whilst YOU ran!” “We are not your enemy, lord dragon,” I shouted back, hoping that somewhere inside that great beast remained some semblance of reason. “I beg you, cease your attacks upon the thestrals and live alongside them in peace. The war is long since over.” There was a long pause before he answered. “Yes… yes… ‘in peace’, wendigo. I will think on this. Yes... Come out now. You may bring your friend with you.” And in a sickly sweet voice added, “I promise I won’t ‘harm’ you. A dragon never breaks a promise you know.” I nudged Hammer to follow me back into the main chamber. “Are you insane?” he whispered angrily. “That thing will kill us both! You can’t trust them!” I nodded. “Just follow my lead, and get ready to fly.” “Fly?” he breathed. Stone Hammer stared down at his hooves and licked his dry lips. “My goddess, you really are mad.” In the main chamber the immense form of the dragon lay curled atop a pile of bones and shining objects of various descriptions. Not quite the legendary ‘golden hoard’, such as the one Barathel had made as his nest, yet this beast was by far the largest of its kind I’d seen, even in Maroc’s memories. Perhaps in the Wither World there were fewer opportunities for collecting shiny objects. Judging by what I’d seen of this dragon however, all it hoarded in this place was death. I gave myself a hard shake, keeping my magic close. Entering the beasts lair, the stench of burnt flesh assailed me along with the smoke rising from the numerous burnt corpses. Hammer stood beside me as the dragon leaned towards us slightly. “Yes,” the repile rumbled lazily. “Yes, I see you now. You are what you say you are. Interesting... Tell me, wendigo… why are you here?” The dragon stretched his wings and yawned. “I seek a thestral mare,” I replied respectfully. “A friend of mine by the name of Shadow.” “Shadow? Why, yes… I believe I did meet her, wendigo.” He reached up to pick his teeth with a claw before fixing me with a golden eyed stare. “She was quite… delicious.” I cringed, lowering my head and ears. My heart felt like lead in my chest. Shadow? Oh, Luna… Had this all been for nothing? “Why? Why would you do such an evil thing?!” I shouted in despair. “Why?” it laughed. “Because she was food of course! All creatures must eat, wendigo. Even you.” I swallowed. “So you… you will eat all these… these warriors who only came to save their friend?” “Their friend?!” It laughed out loud, the sonorous booming of its mirth reverberating around cavern. “Oh, how very touching! Your sentimentality is a weakness, wendigo. It is no wonder the Celestian’s annihilated your cowardly kind from Equestria.” The dragon reached down and picked up one of the fallen thestrals in its claw, pulling off the armour and then flicking the bloodied remains into its gigantic maw. Crunching and tearing the body of the fallen warrior between its deadly teeth, it made a display of swallowing, before leaning towards us. “Dear me! You seem…rather upset.” If a dragon could smile, it was now. The dim light glinted in its huge golden eyes. “Do you... miss her?” I hung my head, hopelessness heavy in my voice. “I do.” “What did she look like?” I motioned to the corpse at my hooves. “Like her…” “I see, I see,” the dragon said, nodding with clearly fake sincerity. He picked up the body and eyed it closely. “Yes… there is a resemblance to the one you mentioned. She cried and called for help a lot, if I remember correctly. Called out for someone, some ‘pony’… I don’t recall the name…” “Fairlight,” I said quietly. “Yes! That was it… called out for ‘Fairlight’, to help her.” He slowly opened his mouth, “Help... which never… came.” He bit down on the thestrals body before swallowing it virtually whole. “Oh, and Fairlight?” he hissed. “What…” I whispered, hanging my head. “You know I said I wouldn’t hurt you?” “Yes?” “I’ll keep my promise,” the great dragon hissed. “No… I’m not going to hurt you…” The massive reptile lifted his head to the ceiling, breathing in a deep huff of air. “Now!” I shouted at Stone Hammer. The great voice of the dragon boomed out along with a broiling gout of flame, “…I’M GOING TO KILL YOU INSTEAD!” We ran. Fire washed over us, but not the type we’d seen before - this was a vivid blend of yellow and green combined, the whole billowing and bubbling up like some gangrenous wound. A thunderous boom followed it, shaking the cavern and echoing behind us as we took flight, hurtled towards the cave mouth as fast as we could go. Screams of pain and rage resounded around us in the glaring light of the magical inferno, my shield the only thing protecting us from becoming a charred mess on the cave floor. Hammer and I ignored it, flying as fast as we could, bursting out into what passed for daylight here in the Withers like corks from the proverbial bottle. Salvation it may appear to be, but I wasn’t so foolish as to think we were safe - at least not yet. The two of us flew dangerously low, and at a speed I thought I couldn’t manage until now. Concentrating on putting as much distance between us and that damned thing, I didn’t even dare look behind me. Long after we’d reached the point of exhaustion in our headlong rush to safety, we half landed, half fell to the ground, gasping for air as we took cover under a rock ledge. My heart was hammering fit to burst, and I took a shaking mouthful of the life energy from a flask. I could barely feel its effects over the rush of adrenalin. The maroon thestral lying next to me looked across wearily, his breath ragged. “What…what in the moon’s embrace was that?” he gasped. I passed him my canteen. “Magical Annihilation Device. I’d hidden it in the dragon’s dinner. Remote activated.” I held up the detonator in my telekinesis for him to see. Stone Hammer shook his head in wonderment. “I’ve seen such things in the halls of our elders, but never in battle. You’re a clever one, my friend.” Gingerly he shook his mane and gave his legs a stretch. “Do you think we killed it?” “Goddesses, I hope so.” I brushed my mane from my eyes. Like the rest of me, it was soaked in sweat. “What could survive an internal explosion like that?” The damned thing was probably dripping from the cavern walls in bloodied chunks by now, and rightly so. Hammer rose to his hooves, shaking the dust off his gear. “Do you think he meant what he said? That he’d eaten your friend?” I shook my head. “No… I know she’s alive. That dragon couldn’t lie straight in bed.” He laughed. “Well, my friend, as much as it grieves me I must return to my tribe. I’ve risked open war with these things and it wouldn’t do to hang around any longer than I have to. Besides, I need to mourn my brothers and sisters. Will you come back with me or…?” I held up a weary hoof. “Thanks for the offer, but no. I have to continue on, wherever Fate may take me.” Hammer smiled. He understood, probably better than most I’d ever met. “In which case, I will wish you the best of luck in your quest… Fairlight.” The warrior made a final adjustment to his armour before clopping me on the shoulder. “Farewell. May we meet again in better times!” The warrior’s leathery wings snapped open and he lurched up into the sky, heading back to his tribe – and home. Lucky bastard. Shaking myself I nudged my pack, eliciting a chirrup from within. “It’s alright Tarragon, you can come out now, little one.” A small toothy face poked out, snuffing the air before looking around in wonderment at our surroundings. With a lot scrabbling, the dragonling clambered out and onto my back making a rather uncomfortable fuss of my neck and mane in the process. I couldn’t help but laugh though, she was so relieved it was almost painful to watch her antics. It was also painful where the little beggars claws gripped pony hide rather than barding! But still, such things mattered little in the great scheme of things. What did matter was to move on to my next destination and, I prayed, finding Shadow alive and well.