//------------------------------// // Chapter 38 // Story: Rekindled Embers // by applezombi //------------------------------// Chapter 38 Excerpt from “Friendship and Convergence: A Collection of Essays on Harmony” compiled, edited, and annotated by HRH Twilight Sparkle, PhD.  The quoted excerpt is from an essay titled “The Tenuous Reality of Choice” by the Princess herself.              In my youth, I became close friends with a very special group of ponies.  The names, deeds, and history of these five mares has been discussed, written about, and studied extensively, and such work needs no repetition here.               Many decades ago, I made a study of the strange convergence of events that led to the six of us earning our cutie marks on the same day, indeed, as the result of the same inciting event.  At the time, I concluded that the event was destiny, that Harmony herself arranged events so that I and my friends would share a very special connection before we had even met each other.              I have since revised my original conclusions.  I continue to believe that Harmony did in fact have a hoof in our connection.  But that connection would have been impossible without the choices I made, and the choices my friends made.  I now believe it was a combination of both destiny itself (shaped by Harmony) and the choices we made that allowed my friends and I to accomplish what we did.              This assumption is supported by the data.  For the past two decades, I have identified no less than fifty-nine possible simultaneous cutie mark events, where multiple ponies receive their mark as the result of a single traceable event, much like Rainbow Dash’s Sonic Rainboom.  I followed the careers of many of these ponies.  Some of them became friends, creating bonds that lasted lifetimes and led to great benefit for the ponies around them.  Others never even met the ponies they were supposedly ‘destined’ to become friends with, often due to their own personal choices.              For example, what would have happened if Rainbow Dash had decided not to move to Ponyville alongside her friend Fluttershy?  What if Rarity had taken her first profits from Carousel Boutique and expanded earlier into Canterlot, even moving there?  What if Pinkie Pie had taken up the life of the wandering party planner, much like her eventual husband Cheese Sandwich in his early years?              All were possibilities.  The ponies in question considered all of these things, and ultimately chose a different path.  This led to their destiny as Elements of Harmony.              But this leads me to an uncomfortable question.  Who would have wielded the Elements if my friends had chosen differently?  I now believe that they filled those roles not because of the omnipotent will of an invisible, intangible force (I do believe that the force of Harmony, the intelligence and magic of it, is real, however) but by virtue of their choices.  And I am no exception.  Had it not been for my own decisions, and the decisions of others, my early life would have turned out much differently.              Take, for example, the history of Sunset Shimmer.  Few ponies will be familiar with that name, or her storied and checkered history.  But at one point, Celestia herself believed that Sunset Shimmer would fill the destiny that eventually fell to me.  It was Sunset’s personal choices that took her on a different path from what Celestia envisioned for her.              Shortly before Celestia and Luna shed their physical forms and departed to explore what lies beyond the Starlit Path, I spoke with Celestia about Sunset, and about Celestia’s expectations for her.  What she told me now aligns with my current beliefs about destiny.  Celestia believes that Harmony allowed her to shape what kinds of ponies would bear the Elements of Harmony, subject to those ponies choices, of course.  Her original intent was for Sunset to wield the Element of Magic, and, alongside the five mares that would eventually become my closest friends, free Luna from the influence of the Nightmare.  But Sunset chose differently, and my choices brought me into that role.              In the essays in this section, we will discuss in further detail the nexus of destiny, coincidence, and personal choice.  We will also read about the will of Harmony herself, an intangible force that moves pony society towards peace, prosperity, and greater friendship.  A hoofwritten note, found shoved just behind this page in the edition of the book kept in the Imperial Library              I’m not sure I believe anything I wrote in that essay any longer.  Either that, or something is affecting Harmony in ways I don’t understand.              Reading what I wrote years ago about Sunset makes me miss my friend all the more.  I still write in the journal, at least one message a year, in hopes she’ll finally respond.  It’s been decades since she wrote something back.  Part of me hopes for the best case scenario, that she decided to start fresh, to sever all ties to her old life in order to create a completely blank slate for her new life in the human world.  I’m not naïve enough to believe it, but I hope. Excerpt, torn from an enchanted journal retrieved from the smoldering ruins of the Castle of Friendship, circa 45 AF Sunset, it’s been seventeen years since you contacted me.  I’ll never stop hoping. Sunset, Happy Birthday!  I don’t know if you’re even reading these, but if you are, I hope you think fondly of me on occasion. Sunset, by my calculation, it’s your twentieth Hearth’s warming in the human world.  I miss our talks. Sunset, if I’m being a bother, just let me know and I’ll leave you alone. HOLY SHIT TWILIGHT WHAT IS HAPPENING IT’S ONLY BEEN THREE DAYS SINCE I SAW YOU LAST!  I CAME HOME FROM A WEEKEND CAMPING TRIP AND THERE’S A HUNDRED MESSAGES IN THE JOURNAL!  WHAT IS GOING ON?!?! IT CAN’T HAVE REALLY BEEN TWENTY YEARS ON YOUR END, CAN... The rest of the excerpt is burned. 1113 AF, Port Luminescence              “This is surreal,” Emberglow muttered to Rarity.  She kept glancing around, tugging at the hood of her cloak with one hoof, ensuring it was pulled low.  The gesture had nothing to do with the light drizzle coming from the sky.              “Because you’ve been here before?” Rarity asked.  “And stop fidgeting with that.  You’ll look like you’re trying to hide your face.”              “But I am,” Emberglow whispered, pulling at her hood instinctively.  There were few ponies or other creatures out in the weather, but it was hard not to be nervous. “There’s ponies here who will probably remember me.”              “Yes, darling, but you’re not supposed to look like you’re trying to hide your face,” Rarity sighed.  “A disguise is more about the acting than it is about the clothing.”              “Easy for you to say,” Emberglow shot back, glancing at Rarity.  The potion she’d taken made her look like an earth pony with black fur and a coral colored mane.              “Well, dear,” Rarity said, flipping her mane daintily, “I’m a — uhm.” She paused a little awkwardly. “Ahem. A you-know-what. I could hardly come here without one of those potions. And we barely have enough of those as it is.”              “Yes. I know.  Sorry.”  Emberglow was nervous and fidgety, and it was making her a bit irritable.              “Think nothing of it, dear.” Rarity waved a hoof, flicking off a splash of mud in the process.  “Unless, of course, you’re apologizing for this wretched mud.  Then you may continue.”              “They warned me. When I came here the first time, I mean.” Emberglow laughed.  “I think Bubblegum said the sea itself liked to flow up into the streets when it rained.”              “I believe it,” Rarity moaned, picking up her hooves primly as she walked.  “I don’t know how you can stand it.”              “I don’t notice, really,” Emberglow admitted, glancing down at her hooves.  Rarity shuddered.              “Let’s get out of this muck as soon as possible, then.  How many more blocks until the inn?”              “It’s in the town square.  Up ahead.” Emberglow pointed with one hoof, looking up.              What she saw filled her with a shock of dread.  The last time she’d been in Port Luminescence’s town square, she’d been overseeing a hanging.  The gallows ahead was empty, but it stood, lonely and tall in the mostly deserted square, a testament to the casual brutality she remembered from her last visit.              “Awfully macabre, isn’t it?” Rarity murmured solemnly.  Emberglow swallowed and nodded.  She knew all too well just how macabre Port Luminescence could be; she’d participated, after all.  “Goodness, is that a cage?”              Emberglow glanced where Rarity was looking.  Indeed, next to the gallows was a new structure, a high gibbet on which hung a cage.  There was a pony inside.              “How barbaric,” Rarity whispered.  The black fur of her disguise almost looked grey.              “I suppose,” Emberglow replied unsurely, thinking of the pillories back in New Canterlot City.  “But how did ponies in your time do public punishment?”              “We didn’t need to, darling,” Rarity said mournfully.              “Nopony committed crimes?” Emberglow asked.  They were growing closer to the gibbet.  This close, Emberglow could see the poor pony’s matted fur, stained with blood and mud.  A single guard, looking rather drenched, stood at the foot of the gibbet.              “There was crime sometimes,” Rarity admitted.  “But our justice system was about rehabilitation, not punishment.  There was no public humiliation.”              “I guess that’s another thing we’ve changed,” Emberglow said as they continued to draw closer to the unfortunate pony.  “C’mon, let’s go quickly.  The inn should be just past the gibbet.”              “I wish Heartwing hadn’t chosen someplace so close to such a gruesome sight.”              “I don’t think he knew,” Emberglow said.  “It’s—”              She gasped, freezing in place.  Her eyes widened as she glanced at the slumped pony in the gibbet.              “I know him,” she hissed, and Rarity glanced back, her expression worried.  “He used to be the governor here.”              There was no question why she hadn’t recognized Blingshine from a distance.  His once clean white fur was stained red and brown, and his wings were broken, with very few feathers left.  His jaw hung slack, and with a sickening twist in her stomach Emberglow realized most of his teeth, false golden ones or otherwise, had been removed from his mouth.  His eyes were glazed, but she could see them moving slightly, as well as his chest swelling with shallow breaths.              A wooden placard hung underneath the gibbet, inscribed with the word ‘treason’.  Emberglow kept her head down, trying not to stare at either the prisoner, the hard-eyed guard, or the sign as she hurried past.  Rarity followed suit.              “There.” Emberglow pointed at the building, an inn with a painted title over the door, the Two Anchors.  Emberglow reached out and pulled the door open quickly, shivering as she tried to ignore the gruesome sight behind them.  “Now I wish we’d stayed with the stallions.”              “Come in quickly, don’t let the wet in!” snapped a harsh voice from inside.  Emberglow let her eyes adjust to the slightly brighter light inside the inn, glancing over to see a haggard-looking middle aged mare mopping the polished wood floor and glancing distastefully at their muddy hooves.  There was a desk with a guestbook, and an open doorway that led deeper into the inn.  Emberglow could hear the sounds of the inn’s other customers in the bar beyond.  Rarity quickly pulled the door closed behind them, a little awkwardly with her hooves.              “Hello, uh, we’re—”              She never let Emberglow finish.  “Two bits for a night.  Meals and drinks are extra, and you’re responsible for any damage to your room.”  Her voice managed to be both bored and harsh at the same time.              “Yes, of course.” Rarity stepped in smoothly, a winning smile spreading across her face. “I think that would be more than fair.  I believe our travelling companions have already made arrangements?  There should be a reservation under the name Sassy Saddles.”              The mare eyed them up and down, skeptically, before nodding.  “This way.”  She leaned her mop up against a counter and trotted off without another glance behind them.  “Wipe your hooves.  If I have to mop extra because of you two, it will show up on your bill.”              She hadn’t needed to say it; Rarity had already been diligently cleaning her hooves on the rug, before finishing off by polishing them with a nearby cloth.              “I think that’s good enough,” Emberglow whispered to her after cleaning her own hooves, slightly amused by the almost obsessive attention to detail Rarity showed, scrubbing every inch of dirt off her hooves.              “It’s not about the bits, darling.  I’d rather not give that harridan the excuse to charge us extra.”              It brought a smile to Emberglow’s face as she followed after the innkeeper, though it did make her hyper aware of the dirt she might be trailing herself.  The innkeeper led them through the bar, where a few sailors nursed mugs of ale.  Nopony glanced up as they passed.              For a brief second, Emberglow was reminded of another tavern in Port Luminescence.  She remembered the mild buzz of alcohol, and the steady flow of the jazzy beat.  She remembered the warm sort of glow that came from the company.              She was rather glad that this wasn’t the same sort of bar.  She didn’t want to remember anything about that night.              “Emberglow?  Darling, are you okay? You stopped.”              “I’m fine,” Emberglow said, trotting to catch up to the innkeeper.              She led them up a flight of stairs to a hallway full of rooms.  Over one door, the number one was painted in chipped, fading paint.  The innkeeper pushed the door open and gestured inside, following the two ponies and closing the door carefully.              The room inside was very basic, with only a pair of beds and a small bathroom off to one side. There were no decorations.  Emberglow tried not to think about what the sleeping arrangements might be for the evening; the idea of very close physical proximity with Rarity was both terrifying and… wonderful.   She blinked and tried to refocus on what they were doing; the innkeeper was looking at them strangely. Her expression was oddly predatory over the permanent sneer on her muzzle.  It was like she was sizing them up, weighing them with her beady gaze.              “So you two are smuggling out, eh?” she asked.  “Huh.  Don’t seem the type.”              “Perhaps not,” Rarity said smoothly.  “But we have our reasons.”              “Well, you two look far too healthy and happy.  If you’re just looking for a fresh start, a pair of pretty young things like yourselves could really make it big in the Port.  I know a few business stallions I could put you in touch with, for a small finders fee, of course.”  The innkeeper’s tone was uncomfortably salacious, and Emberglow found herself having to repress a shudder.              “No thank you,” Rarity said, and Emberglow could tell her politeness was straining.  “We have family waiting for us on the other side.”              “Still, it’s hard to make it in Jubilation.” The innkeeper’s voice was cajoling, and her eyes were flashing. “You might want to discuss it with the rest of your party.  There’s plenty of room in the business for stallions, as well.”              “I appreciate your offer, but we’ll pass,” Rarity said.  “But I was wondering if you could tell us what was going on with that dreadful business outside?”              “Oh, you mean Blingshine?” The innkeeper looked annoyed at the subject change, but there was an eagerness too, a hunger to gossip in her voice that made Emberglow feel a little sick.  “That dumb bastard.  He thought the Knights couldn’t do without him. Then few months back, some dumb Knight bimbo got herself chased out of town for fucking a griffon.  When the purple robes came down to investigate it, Blingshine kept being his usual slimy self.  He tried to hang on to things for a while, but I think they finally got tired of his games and threw him in that cage a couple of weeks ago.”              “He’s been there two weeks?” Emberglow recoiled in horror.  “How is he still alive?  Won’t they let him down?”              “Where do you think you are, mare?” the innkeeper snorted.  “He’s gonna be there until he’s rotted.  A reminder to everybody who’s really in charge here, no matter which pirate is currently sitting in the governor’s mansion.  They just give him a cracker or a moldy heel of bread every other day, to keep dragging things out as long as possible.  He’ll still be there, hanging on, for at least another month or so.”  She gave a cruel cackle.  “Serves him right.  It’s good to see the pompous ass brought down to our level, isn’t it?”              “I’m sure you’re right,” Rarity said carefully.  “Now, we’ve had a long journey, and we’d like to prepare for our ship tomorrow.  Is there any other instructions we need to know?”              “Yeah.  You should avoid going out into the city and just wait here for the captain.  Then again, I’m not the boss of you,” the mare shrugged, looking annoyed to be deterred from her gossiping.  “Sleep well.  Dinner’s not included in your board fee.”  The cranky mare opened the door and stepped out of the room.  Rarity watched her go, before closing the door herself.  She and Emberglow shared a look, and Rarity sighed.              “You’re remarkably patient,” Emberglow noted, and Rarity snorted.  “No, I mean it.  The way she went on about Blingshine made my stomach turn.”              “Oh I know, darling.  It disgusted me as well.”  Rarity walked over to the window, glancing outside with a shudder.  “Who was that stallion, and what could he have done to deserve such torture?”              “He used to be governor.”  Emberglow remembered her first meeting with him, in the governor’s mansion.  She remembered his flirtatious and grandiose manner, the way his simpering eye-candy had draped themselves about him.  She remembered the loathing she’d felt.  “There was a time when I said he might have deserved something like this.  He tortured others himself.”              “But you feel differently now?” Rarity looked at her thoughtfully.  Emberglow shrugged, uncomfortable.  She wasn’t sure how she felt. Rarity stepped away from the window and lifted her saddlebags off her back and onto one of the two beds.  Once again, the motion was very slightly awkward; it was clear Rarity was much more used to employing her magic than her hooves.  Emberglow followed suit.  She couldn’t help herself; she had to slip open the bags just enough to check on her brand new robes, and even the journal Bubblegum had given her as a going away present.              “One great thing about having all these unicorns about is loads of enchanted stuff,” Bubblegum had told her.  “This cost me months of salary, but it’ll let us talk.  I don’t want Spark’s Goddess-mother to be out of touch.”              “That’s the journal Bubblegum gave you?” Rarity asked as Emberglow pulled it out.  Emberglow nodded.  “Twilight had one of those, made by Celestia herself.  It linked her with Sunset Shimmer.”              Emberglow waited for the familiar shiver of fear and disgust that often accompanied mention of the great heretic’s name, but none came.  Instead, there was nothing but mild curiosity.              “Who was she, really?” Emberglow asked.              Rarity climbed up on the bed, curling up gracefully.  “Sunset?  I never met her myself.  I know she was close friends with Princess Twilight.  She was Princess Celestia’s student before Twilight was, but they had some sort of falling out that never was explained to me. Afterwards, she ran away through a magical portal to another world.”              “Another…” Emberglow eyed Rarity.  “You’re teasing me.”              “I’m not!” Rarity said with mock indignation, holding a hoof to her chest.  “I know very little about it, as the others and I were never allowed through.  All I do know is that it was a dimension very different from ours. Some of the creatures there shared some similarities with those in ours, though.  For example, there was another Rarity on the other side, and another Twilight.  Each of our friends had a mirror individual on the other side, in fact.”              “This sounds like fiction,” Emberglow shook her head.  Rarity perked up, ready to protest, but Emberglow held up a hoof to forestall her.  “I’m not saying it’s not true.  It’s just strange.”              “The truth is sometimes stranger than fiction,” Rarity admitted with a sigh.  “For example, my own present circumstances.”  Her voice dropped, heavy with melancholy.  Emberglow hesitated for a brief second before sitting down on the bed next to Rarity, wrapping a wing around her.  Rarity leaned into the comforting embrace.  Emberglow’s heart beat faster.  “Thank you, Emberglow.”              “N-no problem,” she stammered.  “Um, we can talk about something else if this is making you sad.  Like…”              The journal they’d been discussing suddenly flashed, it’s pages vibrating briefly.  Rarity perked up.              “That was the sound Twilight’s made whenever she got a message from Sunset.  Take a look, I think Bubblegum’s trying to contact you.”              Emberglow flipped the journal open to the first page, smiling at the clumsy script she found inside.  I know you’ve only been gone a day, but I had to make sure it works.  Also THE DOCTOR SAYS SPARK CAN GET OFF THE VENTILATOR TODAY!!!!!!!!!!              The excessive use of exclamation points felt totally in character, making Emberglow laugh as she slid the journal over to Rarity.              “Oh, that’s such good news for Bubblegum.  I know she’s been really looking forward to taking little Emberspark home.  Her husbands must be thrilled, as well.”              Thinking of Bubblegum, however, brought a stark and visceral reminder to Emberglow.  It was only a few blocks from here, after all, that they’d fought.  Embreglow remembered her hoof trembling as she signed Bubblegum’s death warrant, alongside Delver and Turquoise.              “Emberglow?  Were you going to respond to Bubblegum?”  Rarity’s voice was full of concern.  Emberglow stared at the window, suddenly very aware of what lay beyond it.  Her past in this town was like mud clinging to her fur; cold, slimy, and tenacious.              “I… you can respond, if you like,” Emberglow said stiffly as she stood.  She didn’t look back at Rarity. “I…”              Rarity continued to protest behind her, but Emberglow couldn’t make out the words.  She walked over to a small hallway, leading to the inn room’s tiny bathroom, glancing inside.  There was a tiny bathtub, a toilet, and a mirror.  “I’m going to take a bath.”  She closed the door behind her.  Thankfully, Rarity didn’t press her any further.              Emberglow tried her best not to think too hard as she ran the hot water into the bathtub.  She realized she’d forgotten to bring any of her toiletries in with her, but that didn’t matter.  What did matter was that she suddenly needed to be clean.  There were flecks of dried dirt on her hooves and in her fur, and she needed to get it out.  She stepped into the tub, long before it was even full, letting her hooves soak.              Emberglow lost track of time as she scrubbed at her hooves.  She remembered the mud, how it had felt underneath her hooves on that day, too.  On the day eight pirates had died, and she’d watched.  And now the stallion that had been preening and prancing about with pride, pleased at the horrors he’d inflicted on the poor prisoners before he took their lives, was being tortured himself.              She wanted to feel good about it.  Like there was some sort of divine retribution involved, a consequence for his own nightmarish actions.  But she couldn’t.  She just felt sorry for him.              There was a knock on the door.  It was loud and insistent.              “Emberglow?”  It was Terminus’ voice.  “Are you okay?”              “I’m fine,” Emberglow glanced down at her hooves, now wrinkly from spending too much time in the tub.  “I’ll be out in a minute.”              She’d been there long enough for the water to grow tepid.  Unfortunately, she still wanted to finish her bath as much as possible, so she held her breath and ducked under the water, wetting her mane.  She did the best she could without shampoo, and crawled out of the tub, snatching up one of the towels that hung in the bathroom.  At least the stingy innkeeper had provided those.              “Could somepony hand me some fresh clothing?” she called out to the closed door, her face heating up when she realized she’d retreated into the bathroom without any sort of preparation.  “I forgot to bring some in with me.”              The door opened a crack, and a white hoof squeezed through the opening, holding a fluffy looking bathrobe.  She accepted it gratefully, trying not to think too hard about Rarity’s proximity, or the fact that she was unclad.  She quickly wrapped the robe around herself and dried her mane with the towel before reluctantly exiting the bathroom.              Outside were three sets of very concerned eyes.  Heartwing and Terminus were both there, looking worried, and Rarity immediately wrapped her in her hooves.              “Are you doing okay, Emberglow?  And don’t you dare say you are.  I saw how you fled into the bathroom when we started talking about Bubblegum.”              “We’re here to talk, if you want,” Terminus offered.  Emberglow looked between the three of them, took a deep breath, and nodded slowly.              “Um, okay.  You all heard the story about Bubblegum, right?  How we didn’t really get along, and how our time together in this town led to us fighting, and her fleeing?”  Terminus nodded, and Rarity guided her over to the bed and gently pushed her down so she was sitting.  “That’s not the only awful thing I did while I was in this town.”              “Remember, we all get a clean slate when we join the Discordant,” Terminus said.  Heartwing was nodding, and Rarity began gently stroking her back.              “I know that,” Emberglow tried not to sound annoyed.  She really did. “It’s a nice thought, but it doesn’t make the guilt go away like magic.  Do either of you unicorns know a spell like that?”              The last came out as a bit of a snap, and the others flinched a little.  Rarity didn’t stop her gentle motions, however.              “S-sorry, I didn’t mean to jump at you,” Emberglow sighed.  “It’s just hard.”              “I know,” Terminus said.  He moved to sit next to Emberglow on the bed, so that she was surrounded by him and Rarity.  “We can talk about it, if you want.” He glanced at the other two.              “We’d be happy to give you some privacy,” Heartwing offered after a significant glance at Rarity.              “No!” Emberglow yelped.  Rarity was touching her.  She didn’t want that to stop.  “No,” she said more calmly, barely avoiding the urge to hide her face in her hooves after her outburst.  “I want to talk about it.  I want to tell you all about it.”  She took a deep breath, and began to speak. *   *   *   *   *              “...so I can’t understand why I felt so upset when I saw him,” Emberglow concluded.  “He was torturing those pirates.  I’m sure that wasn’t his only sin, either.  He’s dishonest, cruel, and greedy.  And yet…”              “You’re a gentle soul, Emberglow,” Rarity whispered, squeezing her around the shoulders.  Emberglow reveled in the contact.  There was genuine warmth in the embrace, and she needed it right now.  “It’s obvious to anypony who has known you for more than a minute.”              “You’re not alone in your thoughts,” Heartwing mentioned.  He’d been standing alongside the window the entire time, while the other two sat on either side of Emberglow.  His gaze was on the pony outside in the gibbet, and his brow was furrowed with anger.  “It makes me furious to see what they’ve done with her country.”              Emberglow watched a shadow of something dark and angry pass over Terminus’ face, before fading after a second.  She made a mental note of it, determined to ask him about it later.              “I’m so sorry that you all get caught up in my breakdowns,” she said, holding up her hooves when all three ponies opened their mouths to protest.  “I promise, we can talk more about it later.  Maybe with you, Terminus.”  She’d ask him about whatever it was when they were alone.              “Well, it’s no surprise in the slightest you had such a reaction,” Rarity declared, giving Emberglow one last squeeze before standing.  “After observing such a horrific event, you had to come right back here, walking right past the very scene of the nightmare?  I’m impressed you held up as well as you did.”   She took a moment to stretch after sitting so long listening to Emberglow recounting the story of the fight with Bubblegum and the later execution.  “Well, I hope you’ll all forgive me, but if it’s all the same to you I’ll take a turn in the bathtub myself.”  She glanced down at her hooves and shuddered.  Emberglow looked as well; they looked perfectly clean to her.              “We’ll fill Emberglow in on the plan for this morning,” Heartwing said.  Rarity nodded and retreated into the small bathroom, while Terminus stood and walked over to his own luggage, resting on the other bed.  “What are you doing?”              “Just checking to be sure my rifle made the trip okay,” Terminus said, far too casually.  Emberglow heard the deflection in his voice.               “Um, Terminus?  I don’t suppose I could talk to you for a bit?” she asked, worried about the grim look on his face.  Heartwing looked at her sharply.  “We could go for a fly?  Maybe find a cloud?”              “If you’d like to,” he said carefully, not looking up from the disassembled rifle in its case.  “Heartwing, do you mind…”              “You want it cleaned, or assembled?” Heartwing asked, trotting over and pecking his coltfriend on the cheek.  Terminus smiled.              “Cleaned and assembled is fine.”              “How do you feel about polka dots?” Heartwing asked, and Terminus shoved him with a laugh.              “Just cleaned and assembled, you brat.  No additions, no weird colors.”              “Got it.  No permanent additions, and no long-lasting color changes.”  Heartwing smirked, and Terminus sighed.              “You’re irrepressible.”  He walked over to the window, sliding it open.  “Shall we?”              The two pegasi leapt out the window, flying off into the dimming evening light.  Emberglow spread her wings, shivering a bit as the cold air brushed through her fur and over her feathers.              “It won’t be hard to find a cloud,” Terminus mentioned.  The rain may have stopped, but the sky was still full of cover.  The two pegasi simply flew up, rising over the cloud line into the slightly brighter, slightly drier air above the cover.              “Thanks for coming out with me,” Emberglow said, coming to a landing on the soft, fluffy mass.  Terminus landed next to her.  “Every time I think I’ve got a handle on what’s happening to me, there’s another trigger and I fall apart again.”              “One day at a time,” Terminus repeated.  “So what do you want to talk about?”              “Um,” Emberglow rubbed one hoof against another, nervously.  She wanted to talk about him.  He was acting oddly, and something in her made her want to know why.  She remembered what the image of Applejack had said to her, in her vision.  That she would be her friends’ strength.  So far she’d done nothing but lean on them, but she didn’t know how to start.              “You want me to get you started?” Terminus asked, and Emberglow nodded.  “Okay.  Let’s talk about the execution.  You still feel guilt about that?”              “I think about it every once and a while,” Emberglow said.  “It’s not a constant thing any more.  Not like Gadget.”  She still dreamed about Gadget every night.  It was getting better, with Topaz still helping her in her dreams, but she wasn’t there yet.  “Mostly now I think about what could have been.”              “What do you mean?” Terminus said.              “Well, what if they hadn’t been captured and killed?  I took a filly’s father away from her.”  She tried to remember the young pirate unicorn, but her face was faded behind the chaos of memories from that day.  She remembered Zuberi’s face, and the faces of the other pirates before the hoods had gone on, though.  Those ones wouldn’t leave no matter how hard she tried.              “And that still haunts you?” Terminus asked.  Emberglow nodded, looking over at the setting sun.  It painted a splash of orange and coral across the tops of the rainclouds.              “Sometimes, yes.  Today worse than most days.”              “What if I told you that this is completely normal?” Terminus asked.  “That regrets are a normal part of life, and we can’t change what happened?”              “I get that regrets are a part of life,” Emberglow grunted, exasperated.  “But normal ponies regret things like bad relationships, or business mistakes, or questionable fashion choices.  Ponies like us regret taking lives.  How do you come back from that?”              “I don’t know if we can, Emberglow,” Terminus sighed, his gaze drifting down to the clouds below his hooves.  “But it’s a sign of character to keep moving forward anyways, trying always to be better than we were before.”              “I want to be,” Emberglow said.  She thought she was seeing her opening.  “I want to be the kind of mare that helps others, but something like today makes me feel so helpless.  Like I’m a slave to the stupid whims of my own trauma.  I want to help other people through their pain, rather than being ruled by my own.”              “That’s very admirable, Emberglow,” Terminus said.              “Like a stallion I see is clearly hurting about something.”  Emberglow felt a nervous tightening in her throat as she spoke, and watched Terminus as his eyes widened.  He glanced back down, in the direction of their inn room, then back at Emberglow in shock.  “If you’d like to talk about it, that is.”              “You—” he started, then chuckled.  “You tricked me up here so you could try to help me?”              “No,” Emberglow blushed.  “Our conversations are really helpful.  Sometimes they’re the only thing keeping me sane.  But I want to do some giving, and less taking, if I can.”              “Fair enough,” Terminus shook his head with thin amusement.  “Okay.  I don’t mind talking about it.”              “It’s something Heartwing said, isn’t it?” Emberglow asked.  “When he mentioned ‘her’.”  Terminus flinched, and Emberglow realized she’d guessed correctly.  “It’s not the first time I’ve seen you change the subject abruptly when Saint Fluttershy is mentioned.  I’ve been living with the two of you for at least a month, now.  It’s not exactly a topic you're comfortable with, are you?”              “I—” Terminus began quickly, before pausing, taking a deep breath.  “Yeah.  Yeah, you’re right.”  He glanced down at his clothing; a nondescript disguise the stallions both wore, making them look like common dockworkers.  “Is it bad that I even get angry when I’m putting on her colors whenever I don my robes or armor?”              “I don’t know,” Emberglow admitted.  “I don’t know why you don’t like her, so I can’t say.”              “I’m jealous,” Terminus whispered, the words coming out in a burst of bitterness.  “I’m jealous of her.  She’s perfect.  Utterly perfect in every way.  She never made mistakes, she never felt anger, or fury.  She never killed.  And now she’s dead!”  He was panting.  Emberglow watched as he closed his eyes, clutched his chest with one hoof, and took several calming breaths.  “And every time he talks about her, or says her name, or gets that far-off look in his eyes that means I know he’s thinking about her.”  He looked up at Emberglow, and his eyes were wet.  “How do I compete with that?”              “Have you talked to Heartwing about all this?” Emberglow asked.              Terminus shook his head.  “No.  How could I?  He worships her.  Everything he’s done since he woke up is for F—” he choked, unable to even say the name  “—is for her.  Besides, I—” he cut off again suddenly, shaking his head.              “What?” Emberglow shuffled closer to him on the cloud, and reached out, wrapping him in a comforting wing.  “You can tell me if you want.”              “Have I ever told you much about my history?” he asked, and Emberglow shook her head.  “It’s not very interesting.  I was a sponsored pony in the Ivy Seminary when I got caught in bed with a scion of the Canter family.  A stallion,” he admitted with a rueful smirk.  “I was twelve.  I thought it was true love.  It took all of five minutes for him to turn on me, to make the whole thing my fault.  He said I ‘seduced him’.  He got suspended for a few months, I got sent to a reeducation camp.”               He brushed a hoof through his mane, his eyes distant.  “We got liberated by a raid team from the Discordant.  I almost got killed in the process.  When I made it to Angel’s Rest, Heartwing stood up and gave a speech to all of us.”  His face flushed red.  “Honestly, I remember very little of the speech.  He was saying something about ‘freedom’ and ‘truth’ and ‘righteousness’ and all I could focus on was how beautiful his eyes looked, alight with passion.”  He gave an embarrassed look at Emberglow.  “I fell hard.  But I was still a foal, really.              “As soon as I’d recovered from my ordeals in the camp, I threw myself into Knight training again.  There was an opportunity to train with some zebra allies, so I took it and went overseas.  I barely knew Heartwing, but even then I would have done anything to help him.  Anything at all to try to heal the wounded, pained look I saw in his eyes.  I wondered why nopony else seemed to notice how sad and lonely he was.  I know better now; everypony sees it, but nopony knows what to do about it.              “I spent ten years oversees, training with the best scouts and snipers among the zebra fighters.  I kept in touch with Heartwing; we exchanged letters constantly.  I kept asking him about himself, trying to get him to open up.  He was like—” he waved a hoof in the air  “—like a stone statue.”  He rolled his eyes.  “Yes, I realize the irony.  When he came to pick me up, I realized the sadness was still there.  The loneliness.  And over the course of a decade and hundreds of letters, a foalhood crush had become something very more real to me.  So I pretty much threw myself at him.”              “Just like that?” Emberglow couldn’t help but laugh at the bluntness.              “Just like that,” Terminus blushed.  “I wasn’t subtle.  We’d flirted a bit via letters, but I don’t know if he realized just how serious I was until I kissed him.”              “And the rest is history?” Emberglow prompted.              He shook his head.  “It wasn’t until after that he told me about his baggage.” Terminus sighed.  “I realized he’d been in love with her.  Devoted to her.  Almost obsessively.”  His laugh was bitter.  “He never lied about it.  He was always completely transparent.  I could have said no.  I could have found a different stallion.  Somepony who would have been mine, and only mine.  But I had to pick the damaged, lonely, sad stallion, still in love with a mare who’s been dead for centuries.”              “He seems devoted to you,” Emberglow noted.              Terminus sighed with exasperation.  “Part of him is, I guess.  But I don’t think I’ve ever held his full heart, if that makes sense.”              “Sorry,” Emberglow admitted.  “I don’t know much about romance and love.  I’m still trying to get to the point where I let myself be okay with it all.”              “I understand that,” Terminus said.  “I’ve seen it a thousand times, after all.  Even felt it myself.  Those first few letters to Heartwing were really awkward.”  Finally he reached a wing over and embraced Emberglow in return.  “Look, I know this is all a lot.  And you’ve probably lost all faith in me as any sort of a therapist.  What kind of healthy stallion jumps headfirst into such an unhealthy relationship, after all?”              “Unhealthy?”              “By the time I practically jumped on him in Zebrica, I would have done anything for Heartwing.”  Terminus’ shoulders slumped.  “I’m smart enough to know when to identify codependency, Emberglow.  But I don’t care.  I know I may not have all of him, but I’ll take what I can get.” He scoffed.  “It’s a stupid cycle, really.  He says he’s not good enough for me, because he can’t give me all of his heart.  I say I’m not good enough for him, because I can’t ever be as good as her.”              “Would it help if I told you to stop comparing yourself to her?” Emberglow said softly.  She knew the answer before she even finished the question.              “Who am I, Emberglow?” Terminus shrugged.  “I’m a soldier.  A killer.  She was an angel.”              “You’re too hard on yourself,” Emberglow said firmly.  Terminus tried to speak, but Emberglow held a hoof to his lips. “No.  I’ve got something to say.  I know it won’t help to tell you to stop comparing yourself to a dead mare.  But Somepony needs to remind you how amazing you are.”  She let go of their embrace, pushing away so she could face him directly.  “You’re an amazing stallion.  You’ve helped tons of ponies adjust through their faith transitions.  Including Rarity and myself.  I haven’t met a single pony in Angel’s Rest that has a bad thing to say about you.  You’re compassionate and kind, and anypony you spend time with is better for it.”              “You didn’t mention the number of confirmed kills,” Terminus said bitterly.  “Heartwing deserves…”              “Heartwing loves you.  And someday he’ll get off his rump and give you all he has to offer.”  Emberglow shoved him gently with her hoof.  “And it’s not fair to compare yourself to a mare who lived in a time of peace.”  That wasn’t how the Book described the time of the Saints, but she was coming to realize just how wrong that all was.  “You’re a soldier.  It’s what you do, it’s what you’re good at.  But you use those talents to help heal the world.”              She cocked her head to the side.  “But you know all that, don’t you?”  She eyed him intently.  “It’s just a matter of taking your own medicine.”              “Of all the things I expected to talk about when you brought me out here, it wasn’t this,” he laughed.  “You’re right.  I do know all this.  I tell myself every time I have to pull the trigger.  That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt, though.”              “Somepony very wise and kind told me that regrets are a natural part of life,” Emberglow said slyly, and Terminus snorted with amusement.  “He also said that we can’t change the past.”              “I wonder who said that?” Terminus snarked.  He stepped close and hugged her again.  “Thanks, Emberglow.  I know I’ve told patients this before, but it’s really quite helpful to talk about this stuff out loud.”              “You know I’m going to insist on making you talk to me now, too.  So that we can help each other?”  Emberglow’s eyebrows raised, and Terminus nodded.              “I promise, Emberglow.  I’ll be good.”              “Good.  Thanks.”  She smiled at him.  “Is it weird that my own issues feel better when I’m talking with you?”              “I think that’s what they used to call ‘group therapy’,” Terminus laughed.  “I’m rather excited to meet this friend of yours, Topaz Glitter.  Maybe she’ll be able to sort out all of our issues.”              “We can hope.”  Emberglow wasn’t quite sure, but it was a nice thought.              By now, the sun had gone down completely, and the stars were starting to peek out.  Emberglow glanced up at the sky.  It seemed like a fitting conclusion to their conversation.              “We should go back,” she said, looking up as each light twinkled to life in the skies.  She made no move to fly back down, though.  “Before we go, though, I have to ask.  What did you plan on doing with your rifle?”              This brought a fresh cringe to Terminus’ face.              “I—” he sighed.  “—I’m a killer, Emberglow.  It’s what I’m good at.  The rifle is one of the only tools I have to try and heal the hurt in this world.  Sometime tonight, I’m going to take out my rifle, and perform a mercy.”              Blingshine.  He meant to kill Blingshine.  She sucked in a quick, horrified breath, staring at him with wide eyes.  A billion thoughts flooded her head, first of which was immediate rejection and disgust.  He was going to kill a prisoner, an unarmed innocent.              But he wasn’t innocent.  Not at all.  Blingshine had tortured others, didn’t he deserve some of his own treatment?              No.  Nopony deserved that.  But they couldn’t exactly free him.              She sat there, staring at Terminus as his face grew worried.              “Emberglow?  Emberglow, are you okay?”              “I—” she shook her head. She glanced down at the clouds that hid the ground below, where she knew a barely conscious stallion suffered in a cage.  “I’m okay.”   She could stop him.  She could say something.  Persuade him not to take life.   “We’re okay,” she said instead.  And she really hoped she meant it.  “C’mon, let’s go back.  Heartwing was going to fill me in on the plans.” *   *   *   *   *              “The ship we’re taking is a merchant vessel, and is not allowed to take on passengers,” Heartwing explained once the two of them were back in the inn room.  Rarity had emerged from the bathroom, her wet mane tied up in a towel, wrapped in a similar bathrobe to Emberglow’s.  “Diarchy soldiers watch that sort of thing, so they have to sneak us onboard.  So we’re going to be hiding in shipping containers.”              “I’m sorry, darling, I must have misheard you.”  Rarity rubbed at one ear with a hoof.  “Did you just say we’re going to be hauled across the ocean like luggage?”              “Just to get out of the harbor,” Heartwing said.  “Then we can get out and move about the ship.”              “I still don’t like it,” Rarity complained.  “What if your smuggler captain is an unsavory sort?  How can we trust him?”              “Her, actually,” Heartwing clarified.  “She’s been working for us for decades now.  Thimblehoof has a son in the Discordant, and two grandkids who are in training. She’s one of the best for smuggling our ponies out of the Diarchy over to Zebrica.”              “I’ve ridden with her before, myself,” Terminus said.  “She’s trustworthy.”              “Still,” Rarity pursed her lips with distaste.  “I can’t say I like the idea of being tossed about in a crate.”              “If you like, I can decorate your crate,” Heartwing chimed in, his musical voice light and teasing.  “Perhaps install some curtains, or a nice fluffy carpet?  Maybe I can arrange to have a nice comfy chesterfield installed?”              “You’re not nearly as funny as you think you are,” Rarity deadpanned, and Heartwing smirked.  “What would you do if I took you up on your offer?”              “For you, my lady,” he said dramatically, holding a hoof to his chest.  “I would find a way.”  It worked.  Rarity tried to hang on to her annoyed expression, but a giggle broke through, then a full laugh.              “That won’t be necessary, I suppose, if we will not be inside for long,” Rarity conceded.  “I can endure.”              “Did I hear correctly?” Heartwing comically rubbed at his ears with his hooves.  “Rarity herself, conceding to discomfort with barely a complaint?  I may need a fainting couch.”              “Are you going to tease me all evening, you rascal?” Rarity scowled.  Terminus was smirking as he watched the exchange, and even Emberglow had to hide her grin behind a hoof.  Rarity turned on the both of them.  “And you two are simply encouraging him!”              It was hard not to, Emberglow thought.  Seeing the two of them interacting like this, with Heartwing teasing, and Rarity firing back, was like an open window into the past.  She wondered if they’d bantered like this before.              It was nice, too.  She suddenly realized that she was no longer annoyed by Heartwing’s teasing demeanor.  Rather, she was coming to truly enjoy his occasional waves of silliness.              That joy ended rather abruptly when her eyes rested on the other bed.  Terminus’ rifle, fully assembled, rested on top.  Her breath caught in her throat when she remembered it would probably be used tonight.              “When?” she breathed, while Rarity and Heartwing traded loud barbs on the other end of the room.  Terminus followed her gaze.              “Are you sure you want to know?” Terminus asked, and Emberglow gulped and nodded.  “Probably very soon.  As soon as the sun’s down.  I’ll fly out of town, find some high vantage point.  Maybe even a cloud, but those are really rough to snipe from.”              “You’ll…” Emberglow breathed hard.  “You’ll be careful?”              “Nopony will connect it to us, if that’s what you’re worried about.”  His voice was grim.  “I’m good at what I do.”  The last was full of self-loathing.  Emberglow reached a wing around him.              “It’s okay.  You’re doing him a kindness,” she whispered.  She tried to believe it, but Terminus stiffened and shrank away from her wing.              “Thanks, Emberglow,” he said, his voice blank and dead.  “I’ll try to remember that.”  He stepped away from her and walked over to the bed where his rifle rested.  As soon as he reached out with his hoof, Rarity and Heartwing stopped their lighthearted bickering and looked at him.              “Now?” Heartwing asked, while Rarity glanced at them with confusion.              “Yeah.  Time to get it over with,” he rasped.  “Can you...” he paused, and took a long breath.  “Can you cast some spells?”              “Of course.”  Heartwing stepped over and laid a comforting hoof on Terminus’ shoulder.              “You’re not mad?”              “No,” Heartwing shook his head.  “I know you have to do it.”              “But… I’m endangering…”              “Hush.”  Heartwing placed a hoof over Terminus’ mouth.  “You’re doing a kindness.”  It was the same thing Emberglow had said.  “What spells did you want?”              “Standard stealth array.  Silent movement, optical camouflage.”              “Sure.  Rarity, would you make sure the curtains are closed?”  Rarity shot him a puzzled look, but moved over to pull the curtains over the window tight, leaving no crack.              As soon as it was done, Heartwing’s horn lit with yellow light, and Emberglow watched with awe as a golden glow surrounded Terminus.  She was familiar with all  the spells he was casting, but had only ever seen them cast via rune gauntlet before.               “Excuse me, gentlestallions, I’d really like to—” Rarity began, but both stallions were ignoring her.  Emberglow held up a hoof to silence her.              “Good luck,” Heartwing said, wrapping his hooves around Terminus and squeezing him tightly.  Terminus closed his eyes and returned the embrace.              “Don’t wait up for me,” Terminus said as he picked up his rifle.  He opened the curtains and slid the window open, his wings spread to leap.  He gave one last melancholy look into the inn room before launching himself out the window.              “Would somepony please tell me what is going on?!” Rarity stamped a hoof with indignation.  Heartwing and Emberglow shared a look.              “Terminus is going to right a wrong,” Heartwing said vaguely.  Rarity’s face scrunched up in displeasure.              “He’s going to kill that poor suffering pony in the plaza,” Emberglow whispered, and Rarity gasped.              “But… kill?  He’s going to…”              “He wouldn’t even be considering it if there were another option.”  Heartwing didn’t look away from the open window.  “Please understand.”              He was talking to both of them, Emberglow realized.  There was a pleading in his voice.  He needed them to understand, to forgive him for supporting this.  To forgive Terminus.              Rarity gaped, looking back and forth between the two of them.  A dozen emotions passed over her expressive eyes, and Emberglow stepped over, holding out a hoof to offer a comforting hug. Rarity’s sharp, horror-filled gaze slid over all of them, before she turned with a whimper and fled into the bathroom.  The door slammed shut, and Emberglow lowered her hoof. She looked at Heartwing, who wouldn’t meet her eye.  Instead, he stood, still as a statue, by the window, looking out into the night.  Emberglow steeled herself and walked over to the bathroom door.  She could hear Rarity weeping and coughing inside. “Rarity?” she began, hesitating as she raised her hoof to knock.  The toilet flushed suddenly, and Emberglow's concern rose. “Are you…” The door opened suddenly, and Rarity shot out of the bathroom.  Her eyes were ablaze with passion. “You’re just going to allow this?” Her voice was a low hiss, desperate and furious.  “Just stand aside and let him murder a pony?” Emberglow opened her mouth.  A thousand responses danced on the tip of her tongue; arguments, justifications, rationalizations…  all fell silent in the wake of Rarity’s fury.  For a moment, she saw judgement there, and her anger bubbled out. “Okay,” Emberglow whispered back harshly.  “Okay.  You don’t like it?  What would you rather us do?  Leave him to rot?” Rarity cringed, and Emberglow pressed forward.  “Or maybe we stage some sort of rescue?  Get the murdering, torturing bastard out of his cage and bring him with us?”  It was a struggle to keep her voice down.  “Tell me what will make you happy, Rarity, and we’ll do that!” They stared at each other for a few silent moments, Rarity’s eyes brimming with tears.  Emberglow took a few deep breaths, trying to calm down. “I hate it too, Rarity.  I do.”  Emberglow blinked, feeling her own helpless tears.  “But you can’t tell me leaving that wretched pony behind, and doing nothing, wouldn’t eat at you.  I know it would eat at me.  And I saw what he was capable of.”  She sighed, pointing her hoof back down the hallway to where Heartwing waited by the window.  “Heartwing needs you to forgive Terminus for this.”  She wasn’t exactly sure why she said it, but it felt right.  “I do too.” Rarity blinked, looking shocked.  “Forgive… he wants me?  Why?” “Because he respects you?” Emberglow guessed.  When she saw the look of surprise on Rarity’s face, she thought she’d guessed right.  “It would hurt him if you hated Terminus for this.” “I couldn’t hate—” Rarity shook her head frantically.  “Not Terminus.  He’s such a sweetheart.”  She seemed to not be realizing what she was saying.  “Oh, Celestia… is there really no other option?” Her eyes seemed to beg for comfort, so Emberglow shook her head and reached out, slowly enough so that Rarity could back away if she wanted.  Gently she wrapped her hooves around the other mare, pulling her into a hug.  She could feel Rarity shaking with her sobs. “C’mon.  Let’s go sit down.”  She carefully led Rarity back into the room, guiding her to the bed where they both sat down together.  Heartwing turned his gaze from the window to give them both a hopeful look.              “Every time,” Rarity whispered.  “Every time I think I’m getting a handle on just how cruel, just how hard, this new world has become, it reminds me all over again.”  She leaned into Emberglow’s embrace.              “This is why you’re leading this mission, Rarity,” Heartwing said.  “We need ponies who remember how things used to be to lead.  It’s the only way for the world to heal.”              “I mean,” Rarity continued, sniffling, “what sort of world is it, if this sort of thing is a… a kindness?”              There was a brief flash of light, coming from just under the shirt Heartwing wore.  The three of them looked at each other, startled.              “Is that…”              “Fluttershy’s Element,” Heartwing’s eyes were wide, and he fished the small pouch that he kept hanging around his neck.              “It’s for Terminus, isn’t it?” Emberglow guessed.  Heartwing nodded, his eyes wondering.              “To think, he would earn it with an act of violence.” Rarity shook her head, shuddering and wiping her eyes with one hoof.              “Perhaps violence, but also an act of mercy.” Heartwing nodded.  He didn’t sound surprised, just mournful.  “One that never should have been necessary.”              They lapsed into silence, waiting in the leaden stillness of the evening for Terminus to return.  Nopony even suggested they follow Terminus’ instructions to not wait up for him.  Emberglow strained to listen in the silence, wondering if she would hear the fatal gunshot.              “I… suspected something like this.” Heartwing pulled the Element of Kindness out of the pouch, lifting it gently with his magic.  All three ponies stared at it, entranced by the gem held gently in the golden glow.  “Ever since he threw himself into making sure the new arrivals to our cause had as gentle a transition as possible.  I tried to broach the subject with Terminus.  He wouldn’t even touch the gem.  Didn’t even want to look at it.”              “Can you blame him?” Rarity asked.  Heartwing shook his head.  “The poor dear feels as if he’s trapped in Fluttershy’s shadow.  If he were to bear her Element, too…” she trailed off.              “Would he refuse?” Emberglow wondered, and the other two stared at her in shock.  “W-well, when I spoke with Applejack, she said I had a choice.  That I could refuse if I wished.”              “Did you even consider it?” Heartwing’s smile was wan.  Emberglow shook her head.  “I doubt Terminus would either.”  He paused, looking at the medallion with an unreadable look.  “I would spare him this if I could.”                 “But it will be his choice,” Emberglow affirmed.               “What if he says no?” Rarity asked.  Nopony had an answer for that.  Emberglow stepped away from Rarity and moved over to the window.  She wanted to pull back the curtain, to look down at the slumped figure in the gibbet.  But she was worried opening the window would draw the attention of the guard stationed down below, so she stood and listened.              Emberglow never heard the shot.  She never heard the impact.  The silence dragged on until  there was a tap on the window.  Emberglow pulled back the curtain to let Terminus inside.              “I thought I told you all not to wait up for me,” he muttered, placing his rifle on the bed.  He glanced around the room, which was now filled with a soft pink light from the Element.  “What…”              “Terminus,” Heartwing whispered.  The soft voice filled the room, and Emberglow could hear a dozen emotions in the word.  Sympathy.  Love.  Regret.  Pride.  The Element floated on a golden aura towards Terminus.              “Heartwing, I thought we resolved this ages ago,” Terminus said dismissively, glancing away.              “Oh?  Then why is it glowing?”              “Maybe you, or Rarity…”              “I think not, Terminus,” Heartwing insisted softly.  Terminus was shaking, eyes spilling over with tears.              “I’m not… it can’t be for me.  Not me.  I’m a killer.”              “If it’s not for you, reach out your hoof and touch it, Terminus,” Rarity urged.  The pendant hovered in front of him.  Emberglow stared, entranced by the scene before her.  “If you’re so sure Heartwing is wrong, prove it.” Her voice was strong and confident.              “I’m afraid,” Terminus whimpered.  “What if… what if it is me?”              “Then you’ll make the finest Element of Kindness that ever lived,” Rarity declared, her eyes blazing.  “And you’ll help to save the world.  To create a place where nopony will ever again have to…” she trailed off, glancing at the rifle on the bed.              “I…” Terminus clenched his eyes shut, tears leaking out, before finally reaching out and seizing the amulet with one hoof.