//------------------------------//
// Chapter Fifteen - A storm of magic 
// Story: Fairlight - The Fortress of the Four Winds 
// by Bluespectre 
//------------------------------//



CHAPTER FIFTEEN

A STORM OF MAGIC


Star Beard ran his hoof along his bookshelf peering closely at the old tomes. “What was the name of that book again?”

“Trans… transmu… something…” I mumbled, trying to remember the ridiculously long name his mentor had thrown at me before vanishing into the aether. 

Star Beard clucked his tongue irritably. “That’s not helping Captain!”

“I’m sorry!” I exclaimed, throwing up my forelegs in frustration. “I know bugger all about magic, Colonel, and he didn’t exactly write it down you know.”

Star Beard face hoofed. “Fine… I’ll keep-”

“Magical Transmutational Dynamics and Quantifiable Dimensional Quadratics.” 

We both turned as one to stare open mouthed at Shadow who was taking down a dusty leather tome inscribed with golden letters in ancient equestrian. Sure enough, it was the very book Star Swirl had told me about. I think Star Beard was just as surprised as I was. Dear goddesses, that mare never ceased to amaze me. Not only that, and admittedly it may have been my imagination of course, but she seemed a lot more… ‘eloquent’ than when I’d first met her.

If Star Beard had noticed he never let on, quickly opening the cover and leafing through the age yellowed pages of the book. “Here…yes, this is it,” he muttered. “Right then… Hmmm.” His voice trailed off.

“Anything?” I asked hopefully, moving closer to peer at the book.

The old thestral tutted, pushing me away. “No! Go and sit over there and play with your dragon or something, I’m going to need time to read this. In peace!”

I raised my eyebrows. Awkward old bugger! ‘Go and play with your dragon’. Bah! Probably a metaphor for something he did with that massive maid of his. Shadow looked up at me with a mischievous smile on her face as I plopped myself down on the chair beside her.

“Won’t be long love,” I said, casting a glance at the Colonel. “We’ll be going together this time. As the goddess is my witness, we will be.” 

Shadow nickered in response, nudging me playfully. Hopefully this time it wouldn’t involve him poisoning anypony either. Even accepting a cup of tea from him now had my mane bristling. Come to think of it, there’d been that case in Los Pegasus hadn’t there? Yeah… Yeah, that was right. It had centered around some mare whose husband had been playing the field and blown all the family finances on his new found liking for younger models. His good lady, taking exception to her hubby’s behaviour, had concocted a poison so virulent, yet so tasteless, she’d bumped him off and his death had looked for all the world like a heart attack. If it hadn’t been for the small matter of the half million bit life insurance policy taken out a week earlier the local watch may not have looked at it twice. The worst part of it though was that she’d bragged about it to friends, and some of the local ladies whose moral compasses were a touch ‘skewed’, began asking her for the recipe. Before we knew it there’d been a small epidemic of dead stallions dying of ‘natural causes’ popping up all over the place, even in Manehattan. I stared into my tea and pushed it away. Suddenly I didn’t feel so thirsty.

Time passed. Star Beard read and re-read the book, scratching his head far too much for my liking. Occasionally he’d cross reference another book, tutting to himself and making notes, sometimes stopping to stretch and refill his mug with water now that the tea had long since disappeared. I loaded the colonel’s pipe and passed it to him which he accepted gratefully. Of course I had one myself, much to Shadow’s annoyance, receiving a hard stare of disapproval from those red eyes of hers. Gods! Even in this world… I groaned inwardly; apparently another bad habit I enjoyed would have to stop. I don’t know how many times I took out my watch and fiddled with it whilst I waited in that old room of his. Hours dragged by one after the other until finally, with a sleeping thestral’s head on my shoulder and a dragon snoozing on my back, I looked up to see Star Beard’s bleary eyes staring into mine. I started in surprise, rousing my two companions in the process.

“I know what to do,” he announced wearily, “but it’s not good news.” I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, waiting for him to continue. “You need the old magic,” Star Beard explained. “It is the magic of creation, a magic known only to the gods and, to some degree, dragons. The beacon and the dagger we have, but that magic…”

I motioned toward Tarragon. “But we have a dragon. She may be small but she’s still a dragon.”

The old fellow nodded sadly. “She is, Fairlight my boy, she is.” He yawned expansively. “But she’s simply too young. The sort of magic needed to complete the process would need to come from a dragon who was more mature, and strong, both physically and magically.” He stretched out, yawning. “I just don’t know…”

Something was pulling at my saddle pack. Tarragon after treats again? No… To my surprise it was Shadow this time. With a few firm tugs she had the flap open and produced from within a large crystal orb. My goddess, of course… Etrida.

Star Beard stared at the orb in fascination. “What is that?” he asked in wonderment. 

Shadow tapped it knowingly with a grin, uttering only one word. A name. “Etrida.”

The old thestral stopped in his tracks and slowly turned to stare at her. “Etrida?” He swallowed, visibly paling. “By the moon, girl! Do you know who that is?”

Shadow nodded, “My friend.”

Star Beard scrubbed his chin, flopping back into his chair. “I think you need to explain my dear.” He shot me a look. “I think I need a drink too.”

I quickly poured the colonel a good measure of balta before sitting back in wonderment, listening to Star Beard and Shadow talk. This was like a whole new thestral! She was still a little shy in some ways, but I could understand her perfectly clearly and Star Beard spoke with her with no trouble whatsoever. Shadow was literally chock full of surprises lately, and this was one more to add to that ever expanding list.

The old fellow stared at us, shaking his head as Shadow’s explanation of her time with Etrida drew to a close. “I still can’t believe it,” he breathed. “Our old allies, our oldest enemies, and now you befriend their elder? By painting her cave? Astounding…” Tarragon nudged the crystal with her nose, sniffing it intently whilst Star Beard watched her absently. “Captain, if you can enlist the aid of Etrida, we can do this. The question is, will she come here to help you?”

I tapped the crystal, looking the old warrior in the eye. “There’s only one way to find out. Let’s ask…”

Star Beard’s mouth opened wide in what I was certain was going to be one his animated, and undoubtedly vocal, protests at my outrageous suggestion. For a moment he froze, his timeless eyes locking with mine. I could all but hear the cacophony of calculations, plans and considerations whirring away behind those mysterious burning orbs of his. What sights they must have seen. To see war, to fight beside the goddess of the moon on a foreign world, to be there upon the field surrounded by thous of your brothers and sisters as the battle raged around you. And to see all your hopes and dreams burn in the fires of the white witch. I stood there in silence, watching him. To my surprise the old colonel merely let out a strangled choking sound and closed with mouth with an audible ‘snap’. Then, his decision made, in a huff of smoke and a flurry of his billowing cloak he flopped back in his chair, waving a hoof for me to continue. Dutifully I held the crystal in my hooves and stared into it clearing my mind. I brought forth a memory of the emerald dragon with the blue eyes, picturing her modest yet tasteful home, her resonating voice, even her scent. 

“Etrida”, I whispered. 

Nothing… I tried again, remembering the way she seemed to reach into my very soul with no more than a gaze. She was the mother of my friend and companion, Tarragon. She was an ancient dragon who had cared for one of the mares I loved so dearly. Etrida could so easily have thrown Shadow out when she appeared at her home, abandoning her to the many ravenous beasts that lived in the volcanic mountains. Or worse.  

“Etrida.”

I stood there like an idiot, staring into that damnable crystal. Thankfully, I wasn’t the only one. 

“Anything?” Star Beard asked, frowning at the steadfastly silent object. “Maybe you’re not doing it right.”

I scrubbed my mane, frustration taking a grip of my mind. Had I missed something? “I’m-”

“Look!” Shadow interrupted Suddenly.

As one we stared at the crystal again. She was right – something was happening. Before our incredulous eyes the curious object was beginning to glow with a soft, pale inner light. Gradually it began to build, and then a voice, feminine and strong, flowed out into the quiet of Star Beard’s study. 

“Ah, Lord Fairlight. You kept me in your heart after all I see.” I blushed deep red and the dragon chuckled, “You wish to ask me something?”

Fighting my embarrassment I glanced at Shadow who held her laughter behind a hoof. She of all thestrals knew all too well what Etrida was like. “Etrida,” I began, “I have found Shadow, she is safe and well.”

“Good,” came the reply. “This news is pleasing to me, Lord Fairlight. Although, I suspect there is more, yes?”

I nodded. “There is. I’m afraid that to return home...” I swallowed. “We will need dragon magic.”

“Dragon magic?” Etrida’s voice sounded puzzled. “How can this be? I have tried many times, and even I cannot penetrate the veil. It is even stronger now than it ever was thanks to the interference of that cursed alicorn. No… No, there is more to it than that. This is far beyond the machinations of some foolish pony trickery. Some thing, some unseen will, is keeping me here, denying me my freedom.” Abruptly her voice rose in anger, “I wish to return to my children, wendigo. If there is a way then I would have you tell me. Now!”

Star Beard nodded to me before facing the orb. “My lady Etrida, my name is Star Beard of the tribe of the Beyond. May I speak with you?”

“Star Beard...” There was a pause. “I remember you…” I could almost see the dragon’s great blue eyes staring through the crystal orb as she appraised the one addressing her. “This is the name you choose to travel the world with now is it, old one?” Etrida’s voice took on a note of what I could only describe as being one of resignation. “A cloak to hide the shame of a past than none of us care to recall, even in the blackest of nights...” I heard huff of breath. “Very well. You have more honour than most, thestral. Speak.”

Shadow and I sat back as the two began talking at length about the processes needed to break through the barrier in the Rift, or ‘The Shallows’ as Etrida called it. Most of the subsequent conversation was way over my poor addled head, and the old Fairlight brain cells were taking a real pounding simply trying to keep up with them. I may not have had much in the way of formal training in the intricacies of magic of course, nor what you might consider to be ‘natural aptitude’ if I’m being brutally honest, but I still managed to comprehend enough of what was being said to be able to piece together a picture in my mind that was sufficiently vivid to give anypony nightmares. And what a nightmare it was. My blood ran cold as the unfolding bitterness of reality washed over me, mercilessly crushing my naive optimism. It transpired that the portal Star Swirl had used centuries ago when he had visited the thestral realm was the very same one I myself had blundered through. There was a reason Star Beard hadn’t been able to send Shadow through it to Equestria, and that reason had a name – Celestia. The ancient magic of the portal had allowed my passage through to this realm of night just as it had with the old wizard a thousand years earlier, but that was all. It was, as I now discovered, a one way ticket. I stared down at my hooves, trying to slow my ever increasing heart rate. Had she known I would come here all along? She had certainly known about Shadow, if her loud conversation with her sister had been any guide. What’s more her soldiers pursuing me had ceased to do so the further I travelled… and the nearer I got to the portal. Perhaps… Perhaps it always had been a one way ticket, and the white witch, the scourge of the wendigo, had merely help to guide me to into that trap laid so long ago, never to be seen again. I had the terrible feeling that Star Swirl knew it too. I wouldn’t put anything past that devious old rat. I gave myself a hard shake and turned to play with Tarragon. I didn’t want to hear any more.


****************


Luna’s arse, they’d been at it for bloody hours. I leaned back in my chair, rubbing the weariness from my eyes to stare blearily up at the ceiling for the umpteenth time that afternoon. At the last count I made it one hundred and thirty six cracks, twelve stains, three disturbingly large cobwebs and four equally disturbing looking spiders. At least, I hoped that was what they were. The Withers had a veritable artist’s pallet of flora and fauna that awaited discovery by one of the more ‘intrepid’ explorers out there. To the many botanists and naturalists that Equestria produced it was doubtless a treasure trove of fascinating marvels and new discoveries just waiting to be photographed and documented for posterity. It was a task, I’m relieved to say, that I was more than happy to leave to somepony a lot more adventurous than myself. Gods know, if the plethora of bookshelves, bookcases, and stacks of archaic volumes leaning haphazardly in every nook and cranny was anything to go by, there was probably a whole encyclopaedia’s worth of musings on it here already. Speaking of which, Tarragon had gone back to sleep nestled in Shadow’s lap as the quiet mare consumed what must have been her third helping from the pile of musty old tomes. If I’d been in a fit state of mind to be able to concentrate as readily as she clearly was, it would have been an ideal way to pass the time. Instead, I simply sat there, bored beyond endurance. Anyway, I doubted I’d be able to read thestral even if I’d tried. I picked at a bur on my hoof, an act which my mother would have berated me for as ‘fidgeting’ not so long ago. Now all I got was a slight reproving glance from Shadow for distracting her from her concentration. Damn it all, I wished I could have sloped off for a sly smoke, or maybe even a few minutes snooze. I mean seriously, would anypony even notice if I slipped out the door for a bit? Sitting here certainly wasn’t achieving anything other than making my arse sore and raising my irritability to new heights. The pipe was there, as was the pouch of tobacco. I was still considering how I could put such a plan into motion when a hoof reached out and tapped mine lightly. It was Shadow. She gazed at me silently, and slowly, deliberately, shook her head before returning to her book. Damn and blast it all! Could she read minds or something? Gods above, maybe she could! I let out a long sigh, settled back once again, and together we waited as patiently as we could for Star Beard and Etrida to formulate their plan. I stretched out my hooves and gave my wings a quick preen and brush down - that bloody sand got in everywhere and made me itch something chronic.

“Fairlight?” Star Beard said suddenly, making me look up. “Get yourself tidied up, I need to see the duchess straight away.”

“Huh? Why?” I said scratching my mane.

He face hoofed. “Weren’t you listening? We’re expecting visitors, stallion!” The old fellow stretched his legs, releasing a barrage of audible, bony ‘clicks’ that set my teeth on edge before leaning forward on the table to fix me with a particularly hard stare. “We’d better be bloody well ready for when they get here too, so I’d suggest you get that flank of yours out of that chair and shake a tail! Move it, Captain!” 

Oh, bollocks!

And thus the cat had well and truly been loosed amongst the pigeons. In fact this was the nearest I’d seen to what you could quite reasonably call ‘out and out pandemonium’ in many a year - a situation that was only made all the more extraordinary by the normally implacable creatures that were involved in the uproar. Around me thestrals rushed hither and thither carrying a bewildering array of boxes, trays, banners - in fact everything they could lay their hooves on by looks of it. Some climbed ladders to set up colourful pennants and bunting from the great hall’s arches whilst others arranged vast quantities of food, drink, and goodness knows what else leading out from the now packed interior and out down the steps. How they didn’t crash into one another in some enormous squirming heap of legs and hooves was a mind boggling achievement in itself. But then I saw her. At the centre of this maelstrom of activity the head maid stood as stolid as the tallest mountain, squawking and clicking her orders to her troops with her customary calm precision and directing the operations like a general on the battlefield. I expect in some ways this was one, to her especially, and by the goddess she knew what she was doing. Chaotic it may appear, but there was a certain order to the proceedings which I could only marvel at. Perhaps I’d need to reassess my opinion of that expansive thestral. One day. For now though I had more important things on my mind. I’d managed to wash and brush up earlier and had my gear packed and ready, just in case. Tarragon had picked up on the general air of expectation too, and was currently swooping wildly around the ceiling and pillars letting out little jets of flames in her mounting excitement - much to the annoyance of the staff and guards. A loud shriek of protest from the other side of the hall as one of the banners caught light from the dive bombing menace incentivised me to leave the staff to get on with what they did best, whilst I vacated the area as quickly as possible. Shadow was already outside with Star Beard and Ember.

“Ah! Good, you’re here, boy,” The old thestral exclaimed as I approached. “I’ve explained the situation to the duchess here, and the staff should have everything in place ready any time now.”

As optimistic as that may sound, in answer to Star Beard’s assertion a detachment of warriors in polished armour began to emerge to take their positions whilst tables laden with food and drink flowed out from the depths of the great hall to envelop the steps and approach with military precision. There was no magic at play here. No tell-take glow of levitation or spell craft. Everything was done by hoof. For non-unicorns it was an extraordinary display of how teamwork, dexterity, and sheer determination could overcome their lack of an ability we not only took for granted, but also relied on in our everyday lives. Personally I don’t know how I’d manage without any magic at all, in fact when my horn had been broken by those animals and what little ability I had had gone haywire, it was like the end of the world for me. Simple tasks such as brushing my teeth, eating, even going to the toilet, were an entirely new set of frustrating experiences. I’d learned a lot during that time. Still, I suppose the old saying’s true: ‘you don’t miss what you’ve never known’. Freya had certainly done her job well though. Now it was just a case of waiting for our ‘guest’ to arrive. According to Star Beard, if Etrida had left straight away she was likely to be-

“Dragon!” 

The lookout’s warning drew every eye as she dove down from the rooftop to take her position with the other assembled warriors. No orders were necessary. They all smartened themselves up in an instant, the drums beginning to raise of deep, low beat that merged with the haunting resonating drone of some sort of horn like instrument. The effect was quite impressive, if a little grating on ones nerves. Thestrals would never win any musical awards, that was for sure. In the distance, and growing larger by the second, was an enormous green dragon – the unmistakable form of the formidable female Etrida, the queen of them all. Well, I wasn’t so sure she actually was a queen as such, though she certainly came across as one so far as I was concerned. When I’d spoken to him earlier, Star Beard had referred to her as the ‘elder’, so maybe her people didn’t go in for the usual trappings of royalty the way ponies did? It was entirely possible there was simply no real hierarchy at all and it was a society composed entirely of solitary individuals. Who knew? Regardless of the answer, the effect was still the same - imposing. As I watched the magnificent beast approach it reminded me of the bottomless void of knowledge I had about the world outside of Equestrian society. Dear Luna, I knew so little! Our history, as taught in Equestria’s educational establishments at least, glossed over more than just the cracks, it virtually paved over them, or in more cases than I cared to think about right then, simply ignored them altogether. Where was the history of our military past? Where were the documentaries of our wars, our struggles against adversity and the sacrifices our people made as we forged the wonderful world we now took for granted? Probably there along with the history of the thestrals, dragons, and every other race that our glorious leader didn’t think her plebs were capable of ingesting without breaking out into hives. All of it consigned to the dustbin of time. 

I took a deep breath and stood in respectful silence alongside my friends. Nopony spoke now. The drums and horns had gone still. The only sound left was the snapping of the guards pennants in the faint breeze and the faint thump, thump, thump of approaching wings. It was a strange sensation standing there. Despite years of animosity I surprised by how much respect was being show by the thestrals for an old foe, and likewise from Etrida herself. Fortunately for us, and my plans to return home with Shadow, she appeared to have no qualms whatsoever about entering a thestral village. Slowly the huge dragon swept down and across the village, the wind buffeting us whilst she banked, treating us a close view of her in all her green, scaled glory. In her cave she had appeared to be of considerable dimensions. Looking at her now, stretched out with her great wings guiding her through the dark sky, what I had seen had been a mere drop in the ocean compared to the magnificence of this incredible creature in flight. For a moment my heart leaped. Was there enough room? Would she come in to land only to crush the nest-like homes of the thestrals to matchwood? I don’t think I was the only one to think this either. As Etrida swept down along the centre of the village thoroughfare she flared her wings to slow her descent, the sheer size of the noble creature forcing the assembled warriors to hastily back up to afford her more landing room. And then, with barely a whisper from the ground she alighted upon, the emerald dragon from the smoking mountains beyond the marshes stood before us. She was surprisingly graceful for such a large animal, drawing every eye as she lifted her head and blasted out a thunderous, trumpeting cry mixed with a great gout of flame straight up into the sky. 

In reply the warriors held their weapons in the air and shouted three times, “Etrida! Etrida! Etrida!” 

Thank the goddess Star Beard had hastily informed everypony that this was the ‘correct etiquette’ when dealing with a visiting dragon. Who knew how long ago it had been since such a scene had unfolded in the Withers? The first time I’d met one of the creatures, the ‘etiquette’ had seemed to be a little on the thin side.Star Beard and the duchess walked forward and bowed. 

“Lady Etrida, we bid thee welcome to our home,” Ember said respectfully, and in Equestrian too which I found a little odd. “We have prepared food and drink for you, should you desire it.”

Etrida nodded to them both before looking about her. “Where is the wendigo?”

I stepped forward. “I am here, Lady Etrida.” I bowed, sweeping my foreleg around respectfully. “Thank you for coming here today.”

She sniffed the air and all but knocked us all out of the way to reach Shadow, who raced up to greet her as if she were a long lost aunt. “Shadow!” Etrida exclaimed. “It is good to see you again, my child. And you are well, too?” She cast a quick, yet meaningful glance in my direction that made me thank the gods that Shadow was indeed alive, well, and very much in one piece. I shudder to think what would have happened if there’d been so much as a hair out of place on my adventurous mate’s leathery hide. I watched as the thestral mare nuzzled the dragon’s face like a friendly house cat, an act which was responded to in kind by our sizeable guest. It was immediately obvious who Etrida had really come to see this day. Myself and the tribe were secondary concerns, with the possible exception of the ever excitable Tarragon who, never one to be left out when fuss was being offered, had joined in the fun. As impossible as it might sound the unlikely duo of Etrida and Shadow had become fast friends during their time together. To see them together like this made my heart soar to know that Shadow had been cared for so well by the powerful creature. At least until she’d decided upon that crazy ‘monastic lifestyle’ adventure of course. Praise Luna that lunacy was over and done with. On the subject of Shadow, with a wave of her hoof the elegant mare gestured to the rest of us to join them. Dutifully myself, Ember and Star Beard, gathered around her and Etrida to properly welcome our gargantuan guest to the home of the tribe of the Beyond. 

“My dear Etrida, will you partake in our local speciality?” Star Beard asked. He motioned towards one of the barrels. “This year’s distillation has proved to be particularly fine, both in its bouquet and depth of flavour.” 

Etrida nodded. “It would be a pleasure, old one.” And with that, the great dragon plucked an entire barrel from the stack as if it were no more heavy than a matchstick, pulled one end off with a flick of her claw, and upended the entire contents into her cavernous maw. I stared in amazement as the entire contents of the barrel vanished down her throat the same way I would have drunk a single cup. “Excellent,” Etrida announced, licking her lips. “It has been a long time since I last enjoyed such a simple thing.”

“Too long.” Star Beard’s voice was light, but the expression on his face spoke his true feelings on the subject as clearly as though he had uttered the words aloud. “Far too long.” 

This was interesting indeed, and another revelatory peek into the murky world of my secretive, eccentric thestral friend. I knew very little about Star Beard of course, other than the fact that he liked to keep it that way. He had been a student of Star Swirl the Bearded when he’d visited the Withers in the dim and distant past, even modelling himself to some degree after his mentor, not to mention the fact that he’d gone so far as to rename himself after the fellow. He was a veteran of the great war and Thorn’s ex-commander, as well as a relative of the ruling family. So far as I could tell he was either Shadow’s uncle, or grandfather, or… whatever it was called here. He wasn’t married, though he was in a relationship of sorts with the head maid. However the way he looked at Etrida now, and the way she looked at him... He was quite adept at hiding it, but… yes… The little glances, the slight blush on Etrida’s cheeks… Apparently there was a little history between both he and the dragon that I hadn’t expected. It was certainly a history that had kept them apart following the rift between the dragon realm and that of the thestrals caused by the defeat of Nightmare Moon, and yet there was… maybe not so much a fondness as such, but more… more of an understanding? Hmm… old lovers perhaps? Gods, in this world it was a possibility! Size isn’t everything they say, however there had to limits to it surely? Regardless, I didn’t know the answer to this intriguing riddle, but it would be interesting to find out even if it was just to sate my nagging curiosity. I made a mental note to speak to Shadow about it later. Right now though we had more pressing matters to discuss, and thankfully that was exactly what these two had in mind too. Star Beard’s plan was ‘relatively straight forward’ according to the ancient thestral, yet involved so many references to places and things that I had never heard of it went right over my poor pony head. Magic had never been my strong point, apart from the inherited wendigo powers of course, but that seemed to happen on a more instinctual level than anything else. In fact it had become so second nature to me since I’d merged with the spirit that I barely gave it any thought at all. I wanted to blast an enemy with a beam of concentrated magic – it happened. I wanted to flood an area with freezing magical fog – it happened. Gods above, if you’d even suggested I could have done such a thing even a year ago I would have laughed in your face. Hell, it used to take all my concentration just to light a cigarette! Now, vaporising enemies was as simple as blowing my nose. Still, as incredible as all that destructive power might be it didn’t do anything to help me understand the complexities of magical theory. Nor did it help me to come to terms with how my ‘abilities’ had little practical application for anything other than turning me into a weapon. A weapon that others wanted to wield. Or eliminate. From what I could piece together however, it seemed that a combination of the dagger that Thalio had given me, Star Swirl’s ‘Beacon’ and Etrida’s magic, Star Beard believed he could create a ‘key’ of some sort that would allow us to breach Celestia’s barrier in the Rift. Etrida had willingly agreed to the plan, but it was clear that she was doing this for two reasons: firstly for Shadow’s sake, and secondly so she could return to her children, and her mate, Barathel. Poor Tarragon barely got a look in. Sure, her mother had acknowledged her, but now she seemed to take the opinion that her daughter had made her choice and was quite capable of looking after herself, thank-you-very-much. Pretty harsh I thought, at least when compared to equestrian society at any rate. Anway, at the risk of speaking too soon it looked like, for once, things were actually going to work out favourably. Etrida, Shadow and Star Beard continued to talk at length together for some time, leaving me to sit with Ember and Tarragon. Ember passed me a bowl of nuts and an intriguing flaked ‘something’ that was actually very tasty. 

“What will you do when you return home, Fairlight?” Shadow’s sister asked in perfect Equestrian. “Any plans?”

“I don’t know for sure,” I replied honestly as I munched on the contents of the bowl. “I want to settle down, raise my family, and live a nice boring life surrounded by loved ones. I’ve got a pot of money put aside that my aunt’s been looking after for me, and I quite fancy getting into the landlord business.”

Ember’s brows drew down. “Landlord?”

“The ‘Wyvern’s Tail’,” I explained. “It’s the tavern which Tingles and I have been staying in with some of the tribe’s descendants. Little place in the middle of nowhere, sure, but I like it. With Shadow there with us, our family will be whole.”

“Tingles?” Ember asked. “This is the mare Shadow has told me about?”

Oh, hell! I’d really dug a hole for myself with this conversation, and I was walking straight into it too. “Yes, that’s the one,” I answered plainly.

Ember merely nodded her understanding. “In our society, taking more than one mate is not uncommon. Our birth rate is… ‘not as it could be’. I think Star Beard has explained?”

“He has.” I stretched my hind legs out and rolled my stiff shoulders. “Equestrian society used to herd commonly in the past, especially following periods of conflict. The ratio of males to females has always been low, particular in more rural areas for some reason.” I shrugged. “These days though, I don’t think society would so readily accept it.”

“Nor would they readily accept a wendigo or a thestral I suspect?” Ember asked with a raised eyebrow.

She had a point. I nodded in agreement with her sentiments. “True, but we have magic that could alter Shadow’s appearance just by wearing a collar when she’s out and about.”

Ember sighed, clearly unimpressed with the situation. “My sister should not have to hide who and what she is, Fairlight. Not for anyone, nor for any reason. Would she really need to do this? Would your people truly threaten her life because she is a thestral?”

“My people?” I paused and looked into her eyes. Images of the curious blend of creatures that made up the denizens of the little village of Smiling Borders clattered through my mind like slides in an old magic lantern. There was Grimble the griffin landlord of the Wyvern’s Tail, his tea-towel habitually stuck in his belt as he adjusted chairs in the common room. In the background was Heather the minotaur, cleaning dishes in one of her infinite variety of pinnies. There were the elusive hippogryphs, soaring through the air above the forest whilst a group of ponies, who tended to keep themselves to themselves, set up their wares in front of their cottages. And then, finally, the last image clanked into place. They were all stood there gathered on the village green, quietly watching me, their faces aglow with the first light of dawn as they wished me well on my travels. Shadow wouldn’t stand out here, she’d just be one more face in the crowd. A proud nail in a board chock full of proud nails. We were all different, and yet still one. One people, living in the shadow of the memory of a dream… I shook my head slowly, turning to look at my beautiful mate. “She wouldn’t be at risk from my people,” I said quietly. “As for the rest of Equestria… I don’t know. I wish I had an answer for you, Ember. But to many ponies, she probably would look… a little frightening.”

To my surprise Ember actually chuckled. “And how do you see us now, Fairlight? Did you not find us, even Shadow, ‘a little frightening’ when you first met her?”

I smiled, shrugging my shoulders. “At first? Maybe. But somehow I was able to look beyond my pony instincts and see her for who she really is. Who you all are for that matter. Hell, with everything else that’s happened, I don’t know… I’m starting to think that everyday I becoming less and less the pony I always thought I was.”

“And what do you believe you have become?”

I leaned back on my chair, staring up at the dark sky. “A wendigo.”

Ember leaned across and gave me a gentle nuzzle. “You are who you are, Fairlight. My sister loves you, and you love her. There’s not much more I could wish for than that. All I can say is that I pray to the goddess you will both live long happy lives and have many foals together.”

“Thanks, Ember,” I smiled to her softly. “But what about you? Isn’t there any thestral around here who’s caught your eye?”

She blushed, looking away shyly. “Not yet… maybe one day.”

Ember was a young healthy thestral, and the duchess of two tribes no less. I didn’t doubt that one day she’d find her own special somepony, either from within the ranks of her own tribe or perhaps even further afield like Short Stride had with Forge. Hopefully it would be one who would love her just as much I loved Shadow, rather than merely seeking a leg up on the social ladder. Somehow though, I had the feeling she’d be just fine. Ember began to laugh as Tarragon squeaked and clicked in response to her onslaught of tickles whilst I got up to stretch my legs, enjoying a few more berries and a glass of wine before Star Beard trotted over. He’d left Shadow and Etrida talking quietly together.

“We’re all set,” he announced, brushing at a speck of grass on his cloak. “Tomorrow you will fly through the Rift with Etrida, Shadow, and your dragonling. I’ll explain more in the morning, but for now I must prepare things with Etrida and you will need to sort out your own affairs. You don’t have long, Captain, so if you want to do anything before you go, this is the time to do it.”

The Rift? The place that Etrida had said ‘No mere mortal could pass through?’ Damn it all, Star Swirl had told me it was our only hope too. I could only pray that his apprentice, or whatever the Colonel actually was, knew what he was doing. Still, at least I could take some comfort in knowing that Etrida was coming with us on this adventure. She had been to the Rift before in an effort to get through to my world, albeit failing in her attempts to breach the barrier that lay there. Who knew what that had cost her, both physically and emotionally. More to the point though she had one thing that neither Shadow nor myself had – a hide as hard as steel. And what about Tarragon? She may be a dragon, but she was so small! I’d seen what Celestia’s magic could do, and it wasn’t pretty. By all the gods, if this went wrong… somehow I doubted all the wendigo magic in the world wouldn’t protect us. I took a breath, steadied my nerves and said,

“Colonel? I don’t know what to say, except… thank you. Thank you for everything, my old friend.”

He looked quite taken aback by my words, huffing slightly. “Yes… well, I suppose I’ve quite… ‘enjoyed’ your company, Captain Fairlight. After all, you did save the lady Shadow and helped to bring our tribe together with the Purple Sands. Helping to get you home after all that doesn’t seem much to ask.” The old thestral coughed nervously, apparently unused to discussing personal matters. He stood tall, taking a deep breath. “I think it fair to say you’ve been quite the breath of fresh air in our world, yes?”

“I don’t know I’d go so far as to say that!” I chuckled. “Still, this means a lot, Colonel,” I said honestly, “both to Shadow and myself. I just hope we can all meet again some day, be it in your world, or mine.”

Star Beard stared into the distance, an empty look on his wizened old features. “Maybe…” Suddenly he pulled out a bag of tobacco from his pocket and tossed it to me. “Here, take this with you. There’s enough there to keep you going and I’ve made notes for you on how to make it too. It’s in the book I’ve put in your pannier.”

“Book?” I asked in surprise.

Star Beard nodded. “My diary, from the war. No thestral here would be interested in it, and…” He sighed, rubbing his forehead. “I’m old, Fairlight. My children have grown up, and even… well, I’d like it to go to someone who would understand it.”

“But Thorn-” I began.

“Thorn has had enough of war,” the colonel cut in pointedly. “Besides, there’s nothing in there that he doesn’t already know.” He took out his pipe and passed it to me to load up for him. “Not everything in there is suitable for ‘youngsters’, you understand. I wasn’t always proud of what I did, but in war, there is seldom room for sentimentality. Or... mercy.”

I paused, looking into eyes, but Star Beard wasn’t seeing me any more. He was lost in the past, reliving scenes that nopony should ever have had to face. I lit my pipe and waited until, with a snort, the old warrior snapped out of his revelry.

“Don’t smoke alone, Captain, not when you have comrades with you,” he admonished with a smile.

The lines in the warrior’s face occasionally betrayed long faded scars that spoke of fights and battles that had been close in, and no doubt brutal beyond imagining. To some degree I’d been there, seen things and done things I wasn’t proud of either, and one day when I was old and grey like my old friend here, maybe those memories would come back to haunt me too. Maybe Meadow’s concerns for me, for my soul, were… I don’t know… I didn’t want to think about it. Not now.


********************


One of the things that I’d found most surprising about thestral society was just how quickly word seemed to spread. Despite the oddly defined lands they occupied there was a well established, if unofficial, ‘grapevine’ that bypassed tribal boundaries as if they simply did not exist at all. Jungle drums certainly beat loud in the Withers, and so did the ones in the village, only this time they weren’t to welcome a visiting dragon. This time, something else was coming… and there were a lot of them too. Etrida turned to face the mass of armoured thestrals flying inexorably toward us, letting out a loud rumble as smoke vented from between her bared teeth and nostrils. I had a sudden mental image of intense fire rolling towards me but shook my head, dispelling the dreadful memory. Whether she was a calming influence or not was hard to say, but as Etrida’s friend, Shadow stood next to the dragon elder speaking quietly to her. The massive dragon may well have listened, but the burning tension in the air right at that moment was clear for everypony to see. Concerned about the newcomers, Ember rushed over to a group of warriors who were talking urgently with Thorn. The old major motioned me to join them.

“Captain,” Thorn said gravely, “we don’t know who they are yet, but we’d welcome any assistance if need be, and if you’re willing. You’re still a guest here, but...” He left the rest of his sentence hanging.

I shook my mane. “You know me, Major, and you already know my answer.”

He gave a short laugh before trotting over to the duchess, bowing to her. “My lady, your orders?”

Ember stood tall, authority radiating from her in her every word. “Find out who they are, Major Thorn, but do not fight unless you have to. Make sure your warriors know that as well, please. Today should be a day for celebration, not for battle.”

Thorn bowed again. “Yes, my lady.”

We were soon flying high over the tree tops in an attempt to reach the same altitude as the approaching warriors, when I noticed them cease their forward movement and come to a halt, maintaining station. Three of them them then detached from the main host and approached us. Thorn, myself, and another officer headed out to meet them. At this point our weapons were sheathed to avoid appearing threatening, but if I knew thestrals as well as I thought I did, they could be drawn and ready in a heartbeat. Following their lead I fought the urge to check my sword was free in its scabbard – a habit I’d developed of late. Other than my magic, right now it was the only physical weapon I had on me. My scythe unfortunately was back with the rest of my gear in Shadow’s bed chamber. After all, why would I need to be fully geared up for a welcoming celebration? I sighed inwardly, ‘Welcome to the Wither World…’

The thestrals before us kept a respectful distance, apparently just as wary of us as we were of them. Typically the newcomers were armoured the same as those of the Beyond, but with the addition of long yellow stripes, making them look like grotesquely large bumble bees. I’d seen armour like this before, hadn’t I? It was the same as the ones I’d seen…

“You! Wendigo!” one of them shouted, pointing directly at me. “You’re one of these… these ‘dragon lovers’?! Have you lost your mind?”

All eyes were on me now as I said calmly, “Hello, Stone Hammer. Welcome to the Beyond.”

“What?!” The familiar warrior spluttered as he shook his head in disbelief. “But… but you…”

“If you’re talking about Etrida,” I said pointedly, “she is an honoured guest, and the one who saved my mate from meeting the same fate as your sister. You may also be interested to know that we hadn’t killed Sharar at the Coal Spike after all. He’s dead now though.” I crossed my forelegs for emphasis. “Very dead.”

Stone Hammer looked to Thorn who grinned at him, hefting his axe. “I assume you’ve come to meet the dragonslayer, the lady Shadow?” Thorn asked politely. “We would welcome you to join us in peace… brother.”

The three thestrals from the Broken Cliff tribe looked to one another and spoke just out of earshot. The exchange was definitely heated, with no small amount of confused gesturing and head scratching. From where I was, it was almost comical. A minute passed, then one of the warriors from the main body suddenly flew up to Stone Hammer’s group and was shouting urgently, waving off toward the north east. From there another group of armoured thestrals was approaching at speed. I recognised the banners fluttering above the ranks of red and black immediately. Entering stage right was Forge, Short Stride, and the warriors of the Purple Sands. It looked like one big family re-union… just with heavy weaponry.  Good gods, we were in for one hell of a fight if this all went south.

I addressed Stone Hammer who, now finding himself outflanked, was looking decidedly uncomfortable. “Hammer, this is a day for joy, not for war. The lady Shadow has returned safely from the dragon realm, and we will shortly be returning home. Come and celebrate with us, brother. There is food and drink for all.” I held out my hoof which he looked at as though I were holding out a poisonous snake.

For a moment he didn’t seem to know what to say, and I confess I began to fear the worst. But then he glanced at Thorn, back to me, and the moment burst like a soap bubble. “I will trust you, Lord Fairlight,” he said calmly. “These others-”

“Are my brothers, as you are Stone Hammer,” I cut in firmly. “Our ancestors fought side by side with the goddess of the moon, and I for one honour that memory.” I fixed him with my blue eyed gaze. “Will you, my brother?”

There was the briefest of pauses as uncertainly flashed across the warrior’s face. What would he do? Would he relent? Would he order his warriors into the attack? His sister had been killed by a dragon, his brothers and sisters killed in the futile attempt to rescue her. And here I was, the one he had fought beside beneath the Coal Spike mountain, the stranger he had trusted, feasting with the elder of the very same beasts that had taken one of his family. I could feel my magic stirring, my hoof twitching, desperate to feel for my sword. And then, in an instant, his expression changed. Stone Hammer reached out and linked forelegs with me. 

“I will.”

And that, thank Luna, was that. The tension that had hung so thickly in the air only moments ago now dissipated with the breeze, leaving nothing more than a mass of armoured thestrals. This time however, weapons remained mercifully sheathed. Much to the chagrin of our favourite head maid the gathering in the village was now far larger than it had ever been designed to accommodate, but in an encouraging show of solidarity the villagers opened their homes and even the grand hall itself to the new arrivals. The warriors of the Purple Sands, Broken Cliff and the Beyond, all mingled together with surprising ease, the curious creatures laughing and drinking like old friends reuniting at a festival. I looked on in wonder at what could so easily have become a battlefield only minutes earlier. Now it was a scene of laughter, music and merriment. Maybe even the ponies of my homeland could learn from this extraordinary race. Beneath the veneer of separatism, the thestrals really were all one family after all. Even if it was only for today, everypony here had been able to put their old tribal differences aside and enjoy each others company. Ha! The ‘element of harmony’ would have been proud of me.

Thorn clopped me on the shoulder. “Damned glad we avoided a fight there, Captain. With the duchess here and our village as a potential battlefield, it wouldn’t have ended well.” He shrugged, “Even with the earl’s warriors backing us.”

“You actually think we could have lost?” I asked in surprise. “We outnumbered and outflanked them, didn’t we?”

“True,” he conceded. “But you have witnessed Stone Hammer’s warriors in battle with your own eyes, correct?”

I nodded. “They put up one hell of a fight, I’ll give them that.”

“Against a dragon.” Thorn took a slow sip of his balta. “The Broken Cliff tribe live on the border with the dragon realm and are highly experienced warriors. From birth their people trained how to protect their home from the many predators that come down from the mountains or cross the sand sea looking for food. For Stone Hammer’s tribe, every day is a battle simply for survival.” He paused, casting a glance at Stone Hammer and his warriors. “It is a different way of life from the one we lead, Captain. A harsh life, and one I do not envy. Such conditions breed a certain kind of warrior. I would not willingly face one in battle.”

“What about the accord with the dragon realm?” I asked.

“Ah, the so-called ‘accord’.” Thorn shrugged, staring into his empty cup. “Accord’s are all well and good until your belly begins to rumble. Rogue dragons will often cross into their land to take livestock. They would certainly have no qualms about taking a lone thestral. As a result the tribes of the region have come together, forming a common pact to defend themselves in the event of an attack.”

“They didn’t show up to help Stone Hammer recover his sister,” I pointed out. “The only warriors there were from his own tribe.” I floated over a bottle of balta, pouring us both a healthy measure. 

“Ah, but there is a difference between defence and retaliation, is there not, Captain?” Thorn raised an eyebrow knowingly. “It is one thing to defend against an attack, and quite another to cross the border into enemy territory, regardless of the provocation.”

“That was one hell of a provocation!” I protested. “If scum like that know they can get away with such acts of wanton barbarity then they’ll keep on doing it with impunity.” Gods help me, I could still see it. I could hear the sickening crunching of bone and the fountain of blood. The smell of iron, thick in the air. She hadn’t stood a chance. “That mare was eaten alive, Thorn,” I said, gritting my teeth against the surge of anger gripping my heart. “As far as I’m concerned the bastard deserved everything he got.”

“At the risk of many lives and all out war.” Thorn shook his head. “Escalating disputes into a full blown conflict would have lead to more than the loss of one mare, Captain.” He fixed me with his firm gaze. “We don’t all benefit from having the kind of magic that can bring down such a beast.”

“Your people fought dragons in the war, Thorn,” I pointed out. “I saw them in my ancestral memories.”

The old soldier sighed, taking a draw on his pipe. “We had numbers then. Numbers, dragons of our own, the magic of the goddess, and,” he smiled slightly, “the tribe of the wendigo.” 

I opened my mouth to protest but was interrupted by a familiar cloaked figure moving between us.

“What are you two droning on about?” It was the colonel. “Goddess give me strength, we’re surrounded by frolicking fillies and your faces are down round your blasted fetlocks.” He pushed an empty cup towards me. “Come on, boy, don’t leave an old soldier with a dry one, eh?”

“We were talking about the Broken Cliff tribe,” I explained, reaching for the bottle once more. 

“Mmm!” Star Beard took his cup and nodded vigorously. “Tough beggars they are. Your wife was from there if I recall correctly, eh, Thorn?”

Thorn gave his mane a shake, knocking back his balta in one impressive slug. “Yes, sir.”

“That’s right. Hell of a warrior she was too. Knew how to keep you in your place, alright!” Star Beard clopped his friend on the shoulder. “Why don’t you go and have a chat with Ball Sack or whatever his name is? He’s over there by young Narith. Dirty old sod, she’s at least half his age.”

“Barrack,” Thorn corrected absently.

“Hmm? Yes, that’s the fellow.” Star Beard waved a hoof towards the mingling mass of warriors. “I’m sure he’d like to catch up on things with an old comrade. Come on, get yourself over there before he gets too drink in him.”

Thorn let out a long sigh. “At once, Colonel.”

“Excellent! Off you go then.” To my surprise he clopped Thorn on the rump, adding a little speed the ancient warrior’s pace. “Always did like a drink or three did old Ball Sack,” the colonel muttered. We watched Thorn vanish into the throng before Star Beard turned to me. “Come, we have important things to discuss, Captain. Keeping dragons waiting is not conducive to polite discourse.”  

I finished my drink and followed him back towards where Etrida stood like an island above a sea of thestrals. Getting there however was no easy task either, not least because of the mass of spiked armour we had to navigate our way through. Dear goddesses, I’d never seen so many warriors! Somehow I doubted that a pitched battle here would have left many structures standing if Stone Hammer hadn’t stood down when he had; thestrals weren’t exactly considerate of collateral damage when they fought. Right now however the fellow in question was stood with the higher ranking thestrals from all three tribes, and deep in conversation. Star Beard headed off to join them, waving me off to join Shadow and Etrida. I can honestly say I was glad to be away from whatever it was they were talking about too, I’d had more than enough politicking to last a lifetime already. There was, after all, a time and a place for such things. I gave Shadow a nuzzle in greeting as I pulled up a chair next to her. 

“Hello, love,” I smiled.

Shadow lowered her head and nudged me. “Look...”

She motioned towards the tiny curled up form of Tarragon. I hadn’t seen noticed at first, the little creature was sleeping so soundly under the protective shade of her mother’s wing and all but invisible unless you looked closely. Towering above her, the gentleness in Etrida’s deep blue eyes spoke more than words ever could. The touching scene reminded me of my own mother, the warmth of my bed at home when I was but a foal, safe… and protected. Loved. Maybe… Maybe I’d been wrong about Etrida. Sometimes I was too quick to judge, too cynical, and admittedly, tainted by my bitterness towards what I saw as the casual cruelty of an uncaring world. Perhaps she truly did love her daughter, and that her apparent dismissal of her now that she had ‘made her choice’ as she’d put it, was simply her way of accepting her child had grown up. It didn’t mean her affection for her offspring was diminished in any way. Despite everything else in the crazy world, Etrida was still her mother, and it warmed my heart to see them together. It hadn’t escaped Shadow’s notice either. She gave me a meaningful look from under her eyebrows that even a dullard like me could read loud and clear. 

The great dragon grinned down at us, which was quite an unsettling sight with teeth as long as my foreleg. “You must have a foal together, Lord Fairlight,” she said with all the subtlety of a concrete elephant. “You know it is what your mate wishes, do you not?”

Oh, very subtle indeed! Thanks, Etrida... I nodded and smiled pleasantly enough, whilst simultaneously trying desperately to hide my embarrassment. ‘Tact’, as it transpired, was not one of the great elder of the dragons’ strong points. Of course Shadow wanted a foal, she’d dropped more hints about the subject than I cared to think about, even in the short time we’d been together since I’d rescued her from that damned monastery. Five years apart it seemed had only inflamed her desire to make that wish become a reality. But on the subject of reality, was even such a thing possible? Such joinings between the races were not uncommon of course, and had themselves been responsible for any number of ‘new’ races that were hybrids of the two parents: Hippogryphs and griffins to name but two. But a pony and a thestral? Their rate of conception was painfully low as it was, and as wonderful as it would be to try to create a new life between us, the thought of seeing her hopes of motherhood only to be dashed on the rocks of despair was not something I ever wished to see. In all my years I’d never heard of any living creature in Equestria being descended from such a pairing. Perhaps it had simply never happened? Or maybe… What if Celestia had- 

I nearly leaped out of my skin at the sensation on my neck. I looked up to find myself staring into the deep red eyes of Shadow who nudged me again with her muzzle before looking away shyly. It was cute, and an obviously loving gesture, but I wished Etrida wouldn’t make me feel so bloody uncomfortable staring at us like that. Gods, she couldn’t read minds, could she?! Maybe she could too. The great dragon certainly hadn’t finished with me quite yet apparently... 

“You will need to assert yourself, Shadow,” Etrida announced, smirking slyly. “He is a male after all. He will require... ‘adequate’ guidance.”

I have to say I was getting used to the matriarchal nature of things now, but for once, just bloody once, I’d have liked at least one of the females in my life to actually take me seriously! Mind you, as irritating as it could be at times, secretly I was just happy to be with them and felt honoured to be a part of their lives. A little nagging and pestering I could live with. I stretched a wing over Shadow and she snuggled into me, letting out a soft whinny. If only I could have stayed there like that for a few minutes it would have done wonders for my weary heart, but as always, it wasn’t to be. I looked up at the sound of approaching hoofsteps. Etrida was eyeing the newcomer warily, and I could see why. It was Stone Hammer. He’d removed his weaponry and had recovered some of the proud demeanour I’d seen when we had fought Sharar together in the bowels of that cursed mountain. He nodded to me then approached Etrida - slightly hesitantly I noticed. Etrida never moved, but stayed where she was, watching him in absolute silence. I didn’t doubt for a moment that the huge creature could turn all of us into ash in the blink of an eye if she so desired, and I hoped Hammer wouldn’t be so foolish as to rile her to such rash acts. But then, who could understand the minds of dragons? Or thestrals for that matter.

“Lady Etrida,” the thestral warrior began, “may I speak with you?”

She nodded.

Stone Hammer bowed to her. “The duchess has explained why you are here in thestral lands, and for helping my brother, Lord Fairlight, I thank you on behalf of the Broken Cliff.” 

Etrida slowly stroked Tarragon who purred happily in her sleep, her eyes never leaving the thestral before her. For his own part, Stone Hammer seemed a little unsure of how to continue, but did so magnificently. “My lady…” He backed away, bowing respectfully again before Etrida let out a small puff of smoke.

“You came here to kill me, didn’t you? You and your warriors?” It wasn’t a question.

Hammer stopped in his tracks, lifting his head as he replied, “Yes. Your coming here into thestral lands was an act of war. Any thestral entering your lands would also meet a similar fate.”

Etrida snorted. “True enough.” She let out a loud yawn, treating us all to a display of her enormous teeth before settling down and fixing Hammer with a stare that made my blood run cold. “And now?”

Hammer looked to me, to Shadow, then back to Etrida. “No,” he said simply. “Not now.”

The great dragon emitted a throaty chuckle, leaning over to nuzzle Shadow. “Times change, warrior of the Broken Cliff. Hearts too may change, but memories will remain forever. It is up to us to decide whether those memories will help define us… or control us.” She smiled down at Shadow. “Sometimes it takes someone to help show you way back to the path you lost… and guide you back home.”

I stared at her in amazement, unable to look away. This huge creature, this powerful being who could kill a pony with a single snap of her enormous jaws, had a much greater depth of wisdom to her than I’d initially given her credit for. In my world dragons were terrifying killing machines to be avoided at all cost - a preconception that Etrida had just turned upside down. In that moment of reflection I wondered about the small dragon in Ponyville. Maybe he would grow up to be like Etrida some day: wise, noble, and true of heart. Goddess forbid he ended up like Sharar. But then, for all his cruelty, Sharar was still a tragic product of a war fought in the distant past that had left dreadful scars upon all whom it had touched. I would probably never know what had driven him to commit such terrible acts, and perhaps a little selfishly, I was glad of it too. I needed to be able to sleep at night, and I had enough bad memories of my own without adding to them. But then, perhaps he hadn’t always been that way. Memories, as Etrida said, could mould us, shape us, and even come to define who we were. And who we would become.

Stone Hammer bowed again to Etrida before turning to me. “I am pleased you found your mate, brother. Perhaps you can tell me about your exploits? My brothers and sisters have found some balta. Will you join us?”

I looked to Shadow who nodded to me with a wink. A bow to Etrida and a quick kiss for Shadow later, I followed Stone Hammer into the raucous depths of the broiling mass of warriors and the rapidly empting barrels of brain scouring alcohol. So much for learning my lesson last time then! As the balta flowed several fights broke out here and there, if only what you could conservatively call ‘good natured ones’. All I can say is thank the goddess no weapons came into play. Mind you, judging by the state of the protagonists they would have been far more of a danger to themselves than anypony else – weapons or no. What’s more, quite unlike the kind of brutal fighting I had come to expect when facing these fearsome warriors in battle, this time it was more akin to the kind of flailing school yard scraps young colts engaged in back home. There were no desperate snarls of anger, no snorts, grunts of effort, nor even so much as a glimpse of those sharp teeth of theirs display. No, this lot were were too busy giggling like the aforementioned school children to even try to land proper blows, resulting in the two pugilists falling against each other and… and… Oh, gods! I couldn’t watch any more... I mean, come on, in public?! Meanwhile Thorn, Forge and Stone Hammer, the erstwhile military leaders of the tribes, looked on, laughing and even cheering at the antics of their warriors and drinking together like old friends at a picnic. Was this normal for them?! I looked away, desperately trying to find another familiar face in the crowd, although in truth it was just so I didn’t have to see any more of… of that! Nearby I caught a glimpse of Ember, Short Stride and Shadow. The trio had somehow managed find one another in this madness and had formed a huddle of their own, seemingly oblivious to the now very public orgy going on only a few yards away. I began to make my way towards them.

“Hoi!” A foreleg suddenly draped itself over my neck, followed by the pungent alcoholic waft of breath from the owner. “You’re that wendigo fellow, aren’t you?”

“Uh… Yeah,” I managed. I tried to pull away but the mare dodged in front of me. “And just where do you think you’re going, mmm?” Orange eyes bored searchingly into mine as I tried to move, and again she blocked my passage.

“I’m sorry, I really need to see my-”

“Oh, I don’t think so.” The warrior took a swig of her balta before throwing the now empty cup away. I watched it bounce off into the crowd. “No… No, I don’t think so at all.” I began to notice more of them now, mares one and all, pushing in behind her, boxing me in. “You’ve found what you seek already… my fine stallion.” There was a deafening barrage of cheers and laughter as the mares egged her on. Dear gods, she didn’t need any more encouragement! 

I had to regain control of the situation before it got completely out of hoof. Before she go out of hoof. “I’m sorry, Miss,” I began, “I have a mate already.”

“Oh, do you now?” 

“Yes, in fact I-”

“And who is this mysterious mare, hmm?” Another round of neighs and cheers resounded behind her. “What has she got that I haven’t? Is she soft? Does she have fluffy ears and a weak spine?” For some reason this drew a barrage of laughter from the onlookers. Suddenly I realised we were rapidly becoming the centre of attention too. “I have strong legs, a strong back, and firm hips,” the mare continued, oblivious to my protests. “See...” To my shock she bumped her flank against me, turning to give me a full on view of what she was… offering. I swallowed, trying to avert my eyes. “Do you like what you see, stallion?” she purred. “I know you do. Together we can make many strong foals for our tribe. They will be powerful warriors, great warriors! The likes of whom could make even the heavens tremble!” 

“Look!” Somepony called out. “His ears have turned red!”

As the audience fell about in fits of laughter some idiot passed my antagonist another drink which was duly consumed. “Well?” she huffed, wiping her mouth. “What is your answer, stallion?”

“Answer?” I stammered. “I told you I-”

“Oh, just take him, Root!” A voice shouted. 

“Yes! Get on with it!”

“Give him a drink or two and he’ll come round!”

“She doesn’t want to wait for that, you idiot! Grab him, Root! Grind his pony bones ragged!”

Goddess help me, this was rapidly becoming the kind of situation that nightmares were made of. This ‘Root’ didn’t look like the kind of mare who understood the meaning of the word ‘no’, and if I didn’t think of something quick I’d be- “Oof!” The world tipped upside down. I was on my back, black coated legs locking around me, driving me into the ground. Winded, I coughed the sand from my mouth, opening my eyes to stare up into the orange burning orbs bearing down on me.

“You are mine now, wendigo.” The mare’s brow drew down as she slowly licked her lips. “I will have you. I will mate with you.” She lifted her head, catching the eyes of all around us. “I claim this stallion! Let any other mare who lays claim to him speak now or forever hold their silence!” Root chuckled under her breath, turning back to me until her muzzle was barely an inch from mine. “Where is this mate of yours, stallion. Hmm?” She raised an eyebrow seductively. “It would appear you have been telling me lies. Wicked, wicked lies. And lies need to punished, don’t they, girls?” Encouraged by the whoops and cheers of her comrades, Root wiggled her hips into my stomach, working her way inexorably down. “Severely… punished...”

A million thoughts raced through my head at once. What the hell was I going to?! Magic? Yes! Yes, I could try and levitate her off me. But she was so heavy! What about releasing the fog? The white clouds may frighten her off, but what if hurt innocent bystanders? I was strong enough to knock her off of course but- Oh, gods!

“Ah, there we are...” Root closed her eyes and smiled. “I’ve been looking forward to this...”

I had to do something now! If I didn’t then-

“ENOUGH!”

Oh, thank the goddess!

Thorn stepped forward like a knight of old, flanked by Ember, Short Stride, Shadow and Star Beard. Helpless idiot that I was, I could only look up at them from my pathetic position and try not to make matters any worse than they already were by opening my big mouth. I was hardly in a position to do much anyway. As interesting as it was seeing them upside down like this, I certainly wouldn’t recommend it.

Root huffed loudly. “What are blathering about, old one?” she snorted. “Wanted him yourself did you?”

“Be silent, girl!” Star Beard rumbled. He had barely raised his voice, yet the effect was instantaneous. Silence fell all about me, radiating out like ripples on the surface of a pond as the warriors took note of who it was who had interrupted their sport. Faces that had been laughing and egging Root on only moments earlier now began to look unsure, exchanging nervous glances with one another. With the appearance of a veteran of Star Beard’s renown, suddenly this comedic situation with the wendigo had lost its appeal. Alcohol and high spirits were all well and good, but the respect they had for their elders was deeply engrained in thestral culture, regardless of which tribe they were from. Showing disrespect to a veteran warrior, especially one as old as the colonel, was unthinkable. Some of them started to back off, but not the mares with Root. They stood their ground, closing ranks with their comrade. The colonel was not impressed. “This stallion is already claimed,” he announced, addressing Root directly. “If you wish to claim him as second, then by our laws you must request such a joining from the first.”

“Pah!” Root barked. “I will not! I have made my claim before witnesses, and what is done cannot be undone. His mate has not staked her claim upon him, and therefore by our laws he is mine.” A slow grin spread across her face. “To do with… as I please.”

It was Short Stride who spoke now. “The wendigo is not one of our people, nor native to this land,” she explained in her clear tones. “He is not bound by the laws of the people. As such, your claim is invalid. Release him immediately.”

“Nonsense!” one of the older mares with Root chipped in. “He is in our land and therefore bound by the same laws under the moon that all of the goddess’s children are!” A general mumble of agreement began to spread amongst the onlookers. 

“He is an Equestrian,” Short Stride retorted. “He was not born-”

“He is a wendigo!” The warrior snapped back. “Are they not children of the moon?” She looked around at the warriors, garnering support. To my dismay, many nodded their agreement. “You may be too young to remember, girl, but I am not. The moon remembers. Stone remembers stone.”

Damn it all, there was that phrase again. Silence took hold once again as the tension began to mount. Closing my eyes, I decided to throw my hat into this ring of madness. “I keep trying to tell you,” I attempted, “my mate- Mph!”

“-is not here!” Root snapped, planting her hoof squarely over my mouth. 

“She is here.”

“She… What?” The mare looked up in surprise, trying to see who had spoken. “Who is she? Speak!”

And then, like an angel from the heavens entering through the black clouds of despair, the sleek form of Shadow stepped forward. 

“I am mated to this stallion.” Shadow’s eyes blazed like fires, her presence alone forcing many back. Dear gods, I’d never seen her like this before! Normally so shy and of few words, this Shadow was radiating confidence and self assuredness that I found not only extraordinary, but also oddly alluring. She raised her head, staring straight as an arrow at the defiant Root. “He is mine.”

For a moment Root hesitated, her expression changing from that of brash self confidence to one which betrayed her underlying concern that maybe, just maybe, this mare was telling the truth. To my dismay however, it didn’t last. Root’s alcohol fuelled desires burned away any doubts that may have been creeping into her consciousness, as scepticism took hold.

“You have proof of this?” she asked. 

“I am witness,” Ember said aloud, joining her sister. “She has shared of the cetean egg with the wendigo. They have eaten of their enemy together – the dragon of Coal Spike Mountain.”

“The black one?” Somepony gasped. Suddenly the atmosphere changed again, and not for the better. Gods, I hoped I was wrong.

“Root,” one of the mares whispered to her comrade, “leave this. Come away and let us find you another-”

“NO!” Root shoved down hard on my chest, nearly break my ribs as she shot to her hooves. “He is mine! I have made the claim! You all heard it! All of you!” 

“He is not yours to claim, girl,” Star Beard said to her calmly. “The first has her witness, and as elder of the Beyond I have consecrated their union with the goddess. Lady Shadow’s claim to her mate is valid both in law and custom.”

“And by our laws she may still take a second, can she not?” the older mare asked, projecting her question like a railway announcement. “It is still the first’s decision.”

What in Equestria was all this ‘first’ and ‘second’ business anyway? I rubbed my forehead, trying to make at least some sense of this madness. From what I’d managed to piece together so far it was apparent that Shadow was being referred to as this ‘First’, and she could, what, rent me out to another mare? This… ‘Second’? Maybe I was wrong, but it certainly sounded like it! Bloody hell fire, I felt like I was stuck in the middle of a livestock auction and I was the next poor sod to go under the hammer to the highest bidder. Well, bollocks to that then! Mare or no mare I was going to get up and put an end to this lunacy one way or another. I took a breath readying myself to move, then quickly decided against it after seeing the warning glance Thorn shot me. Reluctantly I left myself in their hooves. I suppose it was just as well really, my mind was still reeling from being flung to the ground like a sack of potatoes, not helped either by the fact that my chest ached like hell after Root had pounded me half into the ground. I’m sure if I hadn’t already half numbed myself with balta it would have hurt a damned sight worse too.

“Then what is the first’s decision?” Star Beard asked aloud. “Lady Shadow, as first you have been challenged. As the goddess watches, your answer will be final.”

Shadow’s eyes took on a dangerous cast. If she’d been a cat her back would have been arched and her tail fluffed out, ready for the fight. There was doubt about it, she had been challenged, and there was no way in this goddess forsaken world that she was going to back down now. I closed my eyes and took a breath. I knew the answer before she’d even spoken the word...

“Mine.”

A moments pause, and then Star Beard slammed his staff into the ground right next to my ear making me flinch involuntarily. “So she has spoken! Root, your claim is denied. The first has claimed her mate. Withdraw.”

“But-!”

“Shut up, for the goddess’s sake!” The older mare who had spoken earlier pushed forward between Root and Shadow, grabbing the belligerent creature’s muzzle in her forehooves. “Would you insult our hosts? This has gone far enough, daughter. Come now, come… There are more than enough warriors here to sate even your appetite.” 

“I doubt that!” Somepony chuckled.

A rumble of laughter began as the tension finally broke. In the background the music began again, washing away the last vestiges of Root’s desires in its jaunty refrain. Her face was a picture. Determination had given way to resignation now, and I have to say, I was damned glad of it too. Slowly, she back away, then with a bark of laughter, vanished back into the crowd with her friends and leaving me covered in sand like a discarded bundle of washing.

“Up you come, lad.” Thorn reached down, offering me his hoof which I took gladly. “No worse for wear, eh?”

“Other than a few ribs,” I winced, rubbing my chest. “Gods almighty, what the hell was all that about?”

Star Beard answered. “Ah, well, that was probably my fault. I should have warned you.”

“Warned me about what?”

“Balta is a… what’s the word in Equestrian… aphrodisiac?” He scratched his chin thought. “I think that’s it.”

“You think?!” I rolled my eyes, feeling both relief and outrage at the same time. “Bloody hell, Colonel, she was ready to…” I caught Shadow’s eye. “Well, you know.”

“You don’t mate at festivals, Lord Fairlight?” Short Stride asked innocently. 

I think my burning cheeks and ears were all the answer she needed.

“Equestrian society is different to ours, my dear,” Star Beard explained, perhaps a little unnecessarily. “Fairlight may be a wendigo, but he was born in a different land, and a very different age. Don’t forget that.”

“A boring age,” she replied. The young mare tossed her mane, displaying exactly what she thought about that! “Forge! Come here you lazy braggart. Bring me another drink!”

And so, together with our newfound friends from the Broken Cliff, the three tribes resumed the festivities, leaving me in the care of my ‘First’. 

“Come,” Shadow said leading me away. “Dance.”

Gods, I hated dancing! And yet somehow, I still managed. There, following the lead of my mare, we moved to the rhythm of the sound of an alien world as others joined us. It was as if he incident with Root had never happened, and perhaps it was just as well. It was simply the way of things here. Dancing, music and rough housing was the order of the day for these warriors when the drink flowed it seemed, and in the flickering light of the fires that had been hastily lit for the revellers, I soon found myself propelled towards an improvised stage made from an assemblage of now noticeably empty barrels. At Stone Hammer’s prompting I was once again the centre of attention, telling my story to a rapt audience. My earlier embarrassment forgotten, I spoke of my battle with Sharar, the adventure at the monastery and, to the surprise of many, the final slaying of the dragon by Shadow. In truth I wasn’t sure how referring to the ‘slaying of a dragon’ would go down with Etrida, but fortunately for me she hadn’t been on good terms with the black dragon to begin with. Especially as he’d apparently tried to make a meal of Shadow, who’d barely escaped with her life. Besides which, a quick check showed she was too engrossed in chatting with Shadow to be bothered listening to my overly dramatic performance. Later that night, drunk, snoring, and generally unconscious thestrals littered the village from end to end. Not a few had found their way into each others huts too, their noisy exploits carried through the air to my ears and, no doubt, Shadow’s. She looked up at me with those burning red eyes of hers making my heart race. By the gods, she was so beautiful… 

Etrida cleared her throat when she saw me moving to kiss Shadow. “If you’re going to being doing ‘that’,” she rumbled, “I’d prefer it if you found a room inside, and not in front of my daughter. Or me for that matter.”

Honestly, I didn’t really feel like doing ‘that’ anyway. I was too tired, far too drunk, and deliciously comfortable just lying by Shadow’s side. Smiling, she snuggled into me and let out a deep breath, closing her eyes. No, tonight was for resting, and tomorrow… tomorrow we’d be on our way home.


********************
 

We were awoken with a substantial breakfast of porridge, some type of oatcake, and a selection of berries, the whole assemble brought to us courtesy of the small flotilla of maids under the ever vigilant direction of the stern faced Freya. The surprisingly tasty hot malted beverage which followed washed it all down very nicely indeed too. As well as providing some much needed nourishment, the appearance of breakfast also served the additional function of helping to rouse the previous evenings drowsy revellers from their alcohol soaked slumber. Most of them anyway. Some time later we had all been assembled in the overcrowded village as if on military parade: the three tribes, myself and Shadow, as well as the respective leaders. Before us stood Etrida, the elder of the dragon realm, and Star Beard, the elder of the Beyond. The ancient thestral mystic was cloaked in his familiar threadbare ‘look-alike Star Swirl’ cloak and hat, the latter of which was smothered in so many of those ridiculous brass bells that it made him look like a morris dancer on steroids. What in the goddess’s name possessed him to wear such a ridiculous garment was beyond me, but each to their own I suppose. Earlier that morning the hall’s porters had brought out a makeshift altar of some kind, upon which Star Beard had neatly arranged Thalio’s dagger and one of Star Swirl’s beacons - probably the one I had left behind during my first visit to the Withers. Personally I was relieved that I still had another of the curious things in case of any ‘accidents’, but also because I planned to return it to Twilight Sparkle the first chance I got. That young mare had risked a lot for me, and I prayed she’d be safe. Not that these days I really knew who to pray to, specifically, as the world around me was rapidly becoming something so completely alien to everything I had experienced growing up that I’d given up trying to make head nor tail of any of it for the sake of my own sanity. Not only that, but I was repeatedly finding myself with that unsettling sense of ‘being here before’. Hopefully it was just my imagination.

Shadow nudged my shoulder to get my attention, no doubt noticing my wavering concentration. And no wonder! I was absolutely exhausted from the night before, what with all the drinking, story telling and displays of wendigo magic, I felt like a piece of washing that had been wrung out, dragged through a mangle and left out to dry. Dutifully though, I snapped my head up in time to see one of the most bizarre sights I’d seen outside of a circus big-top. Star Beard, the oldest thestral I had met and one who must have been close to a thousand years old or more, was stood atop a raised platform, standing tall on his hind legs with his wings splayed whilst holding his staff high above his head. My face must have been a picture. I don’t know what amazed me the most - the fact that he was taking such a flamboyant pose in the first place, or that old bugger was actually able to maintain his balance without his knees giving out. Gods, I hoped he had somepony nearby to catch him if they did! But then something even more extraordinary happened. From the open mouth of the thestral elder flowed some of the most unusual sounds I’d ever heard: grunts, clicks, hisses, and a throaty moaning that were unlike any thestral language I’d encountered in the Withers, emanated from his toothy maw until they seemed to fill the very air around us like some living, breathing entity in its own right. I could feel it in my hooves - a slow, physical rumbling, flowing up my legs and into my chest. It was in my ears, in my brain, passing through my lungs with every breath I took. Presumably it was some sort of language he was speaking, but whatever it was, it was making my hackles go up like noponies business. Judging by the slightly alarmed looks on the faces of the others around me, I wasn’t the only one wondering what in the goddess’s name was going on here.

Magic. It had to be. 

My horn was itching besides itself, and it took all my concentration just to prevent myself from reaching up to give the blasted thing a damned good scratch. Whatever Star Beard’s words were, whatever they meant, there was power in them alright. A lot of power. I attempted to distract myself by focussing entirely on Star Beard himself, but it did little to help ease my predicament. Every passing second, with every breath I took, the itching intensified to new eye-wateringly unbearable levels. As it did so the air around Star Beard’s staff began to shimmer with what I could only describe as a heat haze, a phenomenon I’d only ever heard about in the warnings from our school teachers about blundering into areas of ‘high background thaumaturgical radiation’. I’d never seen one. I’d never met anypony who had either. “It can turn you inside out!” they’d said. “Strip the flesh from your bones before you even taken a step!” they’d said. At the time I’d thought it was the usual kind of old codswallop that adults liked to spout at youngsters for shits and giggles. But this… bloody hell fire, I was beginning to think they hadn’t been exaggerated at all! If anything, the dire warnings hadn’t been nearly enough to prepare you for the real thing. And the ‘real thing’ was beginning to have an effect on the objects on altar as well. As I watched, the beacon on the altar slowly began to glow, the familiar white of the crystal brightening in intensity before turning a vivid cerulean blue, changing again a moment later to a deep purple hue that was as enchantingly beautiful as it was unnerving. There was something about this extraordinary transformation that made the hairs stand up along my spine, something distinctly unnatural that I simply couldn’t explain. Something… ‘wrong’. The enormous magical build up was ever present now, but the pendant’s colour… it drew my gaze so intently, so thoroughly, that I found myself completely hypnotised by it. This purple, this deep, fathomless, purple... it wasn’t so much a glow from with the crystal’s surface as such, but… I know it sounds foolish, and yet… it was like staring into a hole. A hole in the very fabric of the universe. Fascination warred with the sensation of rising horror within me that screamed at me to get away, to run, to put as much distance between this otherworldly object and myself as possible. I was going to die. We were all going to die, sucked into that bottomless hole, torn from this fragile speck of life to be ripped apart by the soulless nothingness of the infinite void – eaten, by that emptiness the gods had left behind from the dawn of creation. My heart was pounding in my chest fit to burst, sweat breaking out on my forehead and running in rivulets down my muzzle. But I knew, as terrified as I was, there was no backing out now. I had to trust my friends. 

Thalio’s dagger responded. Sparks of electrical energy, tiny glints of vivid light, sparked along the blade’s razor sharp edge. The flow of sound permeated everything around us now, building, ebbing, then rising again as waves lap against the shore. My attention shifted to Etrida. She rose up on her hind legs and she too began to chant that strange language in time with Star Beard, harmonising their two voices into one, dreadful song. It was, I admit, quite fascinating in its own way, yet at the same time something that I’d likely hear replayed in my nightmares for years to come. As the pitch reached its zenith, from her mouth the elder dragon blew a fine green plume of intense magical fire which lapped across the objects on the altar. It was a total contrast to the incinerating, bright yellow flames Sharar had used against us when we had fought him in the mountain. This produced no heat that I could feel at all, merging instead with the magic in the air around us, making my horn itch all more to the point where it became a sharp, piercing pain that drove down through my skull and into my brain. I wasn’t sure how much more of this I could take. The incredible build up of raw magic before me was becoming more and more intense by the second, a virtual whirlwind of power swirling between the thestral mage and the dragon, and all of it focussed on the altar. Abruptly a wind sprung up from nowhere, blasting through the village, picking up sand as it came, howling around the crowded warriors and screaming with an ungodly sound like a soul in unimaginable torment. All eyes were up on it now. Sensitive to magic or not, the sight of such unimaginable power at work was affecting each and every one of us. I could feel Shadow pressing up against me as the wind span faster and faster, mere yards from where we stood. To my untrained eyes it looked as though this magical force was sucking up all the energy in the air, drawing it inexorably into a magical vortex that began to coalesce over the heads of the two wielders of magic. Worried looks amongst the thestrals displayed their concern for all to see. For all their warlike nature, to stand against this unknown power, this magic in its rawest form, was clearly something very few of them, if any, had ever seen. It truly was a scene I would never forget, even in all my long years of life. The green fire of the elder dragon, merging and flowing within the whirlwind, was nothing short of mesmerising. And then, unexpectedly, lightning flashed, sending a rumble of thunder out around us as shadowy after-images seared into my eyes. Some gasped in shock, others looked up into the sky as though expecting to see gathering storm clouds. But this was no natural storm - it was held there, imprisoned fast and deep within the vortex itself - a perfect storm of absolute magic. The pain in my head was still there, and yet I found that as I stood there watching this incredible sight, to my surprise it almost began to make some sort of sense to me. The best way I could describe it was like trying to piece together a jigsaw puzzle you’d never seen the final picture of. Each piece that came together offered you a glimpse, but only a glimpse, of the finished article. Overall you had an idea of what it was going to look like when it was completed, although you couldn’t be entirely sure until all the pieces were in place. There was no doubt Etrida and Star Beard knew what it was. These two were masters of their craft; each piece was there, slotting seamlessly into place, the words finding the right location, blending, drawing and shaping the magic, fixing it all into place. Until…

A deafeningly loud clap of thunder pulsed out from the altar in a shock-wave of sound and force, flattening the grass, lifting the sand and buffeting the entire village in an ever expanding circle. The swirling green fire flared a bright blue before abruptly winking out of existence, taking with it the wind that disappeared as quickly as it had come. Silence fell. Wearily, Etrida lowered her head, clearly exhausted by the massive expenditure of magic. But the toll on Star Beard had been far more telling. The old thestral dropped back to all fours and stumbled sideways as his legs gave way, thankfully caught by a fast thinking Freya whose face bore an expression of such genuine kindness and concern I couldn’t help but feel moved. Truthfully, and to my shame, I hadn’t thought the brusque mare capable of displaying such emotions, let alone feeling them. Now they were there for the whole village to see. Shadow and I hurried to Star Beard’s his side as Freya carried him gently to the ground, cradling his head against her chest. Within seconds a whole slew of maids were shuttling back and forth with blankets, cloths and warm water to tend to their elder. Star Beard’s eyes were closed, he was weakened, but mercifully breathing.

“Do not fear, he will recover,” Etrida said quietly to Freya. “Right now he needs to sleep so that he may rebuild his strength. Keep him warm, and feed him two of the crystal berries, crushed and mixed with water. But no more than two, you understand?” Freya merely nodded, wiping away a stray tear. Etrida turned to Shadow and I next, nodding, “It is done.” Her voice was heavy from the unimaginable strain she had put upon herself, but also held a background note of relieved pride. “Come, take the key and ready yourselves.”

Key? Almost in a daze I walked over to stand before the altar. My headache was dissipating at last, and that dreadful sound that had made my legs feel like jelly had done no lasting damage so far as I could tell. But my eyesight was another matter. I stared at the altar, blinked, then looked again. I felt like a drunkard on a Friday night trying to find the keyhole in my own front door when it was right in front of my nose. Was I seeing things? The beacon, that ancient artefact of unimaginable value, had vanished. Simply… vanished. Now there was only Thalio’s dagger, or rather what had been Thalio’s dagger. I couldn’t help but stare at the thing in open mouthed incredulity. It had looked strange before, but that paled into insignificance with what lay before me on the cold, stone altar. Now the blade glowed with an intense white light, swirling patterns and flashes of electricity sparking along the entire length of the fuller. I hadn’t been mistaken after all. The beacon had gone, true, but not entirely. It had melded with the dagger, becoming one with it in the forge of magic. 

A tired voice called out to me, “Didn’t think the old fool had it in him, eh?”

I turned to see Star Beard, still trying to extricate himself from the confines of his mare’s fussing embrace. “No, Colonel, I never doubted you,” I replied honestly. “Not even for a moment.”

He gave me a knowing wink before gently moving away from the protective forelegs of Freya. He was still a little wobbly I noticed, but thankfully no worse for wear. “Well, this is it, Captain,” he announced, leaning against the altar. “If this works, if Star Swirl’s calculations and our efforts to transcribe the texts were on point, it will act as a key to allow you through the Rift and back home to Equestria.”

I stared down at the dagger. “And if it doesn’t work?”

“Let’s not think about that, my boy!” he huffed. “Positive thinking and all that, right?”

I felt my eye twitch. “Yeah… Positive thinking...”

Etrida laughed aloud before reaching out to stroke Tarragon who had scrambled up and onto my barding, no doubt anticipating the next leg of our adventure. “You will be riding on my back for this journey, Lord Fairlight,” Etrida explained. “I can fly a lot faster than you, and other dragons will not bother us this way.” She shook herself and looked down at me with her huge reptilian eyes. “I would not normally degrade myself in such an undignified manner for anyone, but for Shadow and my children, I will… ‘permit’ you to travel on my back.”

She gave me a meaningful look and I bowed to her gratefully. “Thank you, Lady Etrida. We couldn’t have got this far without you.”

The great dragon blinked, letting out a snort of smoke. “No. No you could not.”

Well, that was me put firmly in my place! Shadow gave me a shy grin, accompanied by a conciliatory nuzzle. I think that more than made up for any wounded pride I might have been feeling right at that moment, and to my relief I began to feel the stirrings of something I hadn’t sensed in quite some time – Hope. We were close now, so close I didn’t want to so much as think about it in case even that simple act burst the metaphorical bubble, thereby dooming us to a fate that even Star Beard didn’t want to elaborate upon. I glanced at Shadow. She already knew about our chances out there. She didn’t have to say anything, but she knew. I could see it in her eyes.

This time, there was no turning back for either of us.