Chapter 41
Letter, sent from Sir Whiskey Barrel, Knight Jubilant, to Sir Steadfast Word
Greetings, old friend.
I know you asked me to keep you informed of any strange weather patterns up here. I wasn’t sure if this counted, but I thought you might find it interesting anyways.
This winter has been unusually cold and long, but nothing too out of the ordinary. I’ve heard it’s been worse closer to New Canterlot City, but Stalliongrad ponies are a little heartier than you southern lilies. (Just a bit of a joke, I assure you). I’ve been in touch with Warm Front, our local pegasus weather manager, and she assures me that we should start seeing temperatures rise any day now. If not, she and her team are prepared to work round the clock to clear out any unseasonable snow clouds that creep down from the mountains.
What has been interesting, however, is the dreams. As winter continues to overstay its welcome, more and more ponies are coming to their confessors, reporting strange dreams about the weather. The stories are consistent enough to be a little concerning. Each one reports a stern but maternal voice, commanding them to be prepared. It is a voice they implicitly trust within the context of the dream. Each report contains a few different details, but what is consistent is the warning. Store food. Store emergency supplies. Stock up on winter clothing. Winter will be lasting much longer than usual.
Although Warm Front assures me there’s nothing to be concerned about, even she confessed to setting aside some dry goods and a few extra scarves.
This would all be idle curiosity if I hadn’t had the dream last night myself. I can report to you, Steadfast, that I felt wholly comfortable and safe as the mare spoke to me. I saw no image, other than a glowing silver moon, floating in the air. It felt warm, like a campfire in the snow. I don’t know how else to put it.
I am concerned, old friend. I have ordered the confessors, and the Jubilant under my command, to begin purchasing wheat and hay in bulk. If this all turns out to be some sort of fever dream, at least we’ll have emergency storage. I’ve also ordered substantive infrastructure repairs to all the cathedrals, to shore up the insulation in the walls in case they need to be used as shelters from inclement weather. I had to dip into my own family finances to do so, but what’s the point of being rich if you can’t throw your money around every so often?
Please let me know if any other city is experiencing something similar. My local Mystics are all a bit close-mouthed about what’s going on, leaving me the only one giving the Diarchy’s ‘official’ position on the dreams. I haven’t outright stated that this is a vision from the Diarchs, but that’s the conclusion that most ponies have come to, and I haven’t corrected them yet. In the absence of other instructions, I’m going to continue to let them believe.
On a personal note, I believe, Steadfast. I think the Diarchs are warning me of something big coming. I don’t know what it is, but I’m going to do my best to ensure Stalliongrad is prepared for it.
Warmest (get it? Haha) regards, your friend,
Whiskey Barrel
1113 AF, Jubilation
Emberglow had thought that maybe there would be more talking, first. More arguing. She could almost hear the words, trapped just behind Mercy’s dismayed and heartbroken expression. But Mercy’s eyes narrowed, and she lifted a hoof to begin casting. Emberglow followed suit, and soon the air glowed with the runes tracing behind their quick hooves.
There was a sudden crack of gunfire from her right as a bullet pounded into the stone floor. The marines behind Mercy flinched and sprang for cover, though the Knight herself still stood unshaken.
“I’ll keep their heads down while you deal with the Knight,” Terminus whispered beside her, his rifle pointed threateningly at the soldiers. Emberglow nodded, her gaze never leaving Mercy.
She finished her spell right as Mercy finished hers. There was a flash of light, as magic coalesced into a yellow, glowing shield; not a bubble of protective force, but a stronger, more solid buckler attached to her hooves. She might not want to harm Mercy, but she wasn’t about to stand by and let herself be killed.
Mercy had summoned a weapon of her own, a trio of blades glowing with sparkling yellow light, attached to her own hoof. They had barely fully materialized before Mercy lunged, leaping high to come down from above, her blades whipping through the air. Emberglow jerked her shield up, and the two summoned weapons clashed in a crackling hiss of competing magical energy.
“Why, Emberglow?” This close, Emberglow could see the pain in Mercy’s eyes, along with unshed tears. “You were one of our best.”
“You don’t have to fight me, Mercy. Stand down. Listen.”
“You can talk all you want on the ship back to the Diarchy,” Mercy shot back. “I’m taking you back.”
“I’m not…” Emberglow grunted, shoving hard with her shield. She pushed with her legs, her wings fluttering for leverage, and barely managed to shove the earth pony off her. “Not going back ever!” Visions of Brightblade’s face danced in her mind, and she had to try not to shiver in fear.
A shot rang out over the clash of their weapons, and Emberglow spared a split-second glance towards Terminus. The three marines were pinned down around corners, and Terminus was slowly backing away, gaining range while the muzzle of his rifle was pointed her way. He was looking for a shot at Mercy, she realized.
The image appeared in her head of her old friend, her mentor, her very first therapist, still and bleeding from a shot through the heart. Suddenly Emberglow had to swallow a lump in her throat, and she shifted slowly, putting herself between Terminus and her old friend.
“Emberglow…” Terminus called out in protest.
“I don’t want to see you hurt, Mercy,” Emberglow said. Mercy backed away a few steps, before lunging again, a darting motion that Emberglow was nearly unprepared for. Mercy’s claws flashed in the sun, swiping low towards Emberglow’s legs. She had to dance back, swinging wildly with her shield to try and fend off the other mare.
“Then surrender. We can go back to Steadfast. Sort this out. You can’t…”
“You heard what Rarity said, Mercy. He had me tortured.”
“Emberglow…” Mercy’s voice was pleading, but she circled to Emberglow’s blind side. Emberglow was forced to backtrack, to spin to keep Mercy in sight. Mercy’s strikes were quick and shallow, but Emberglow had to stay moving. She had to take the offensive, or Mercy would simply wear her out.
“Just tell me one thing,” Emberglow said as she surged forward, swiping with her shield to force Mercy to step backwards. “Did you bring Brightblade with you or not?”
“He came with—”
“Then you didn’t really come to talk, did you!” Emberglow’s shriek tore through Mercy’s words. Rage pumped the adrenaline through her, and she slammed her shield against her opponent over and over. “You were supposed to be my friend, Mercy!”
“I a-am!” Mercy protested, stumbling back. Emberglow slammed hard against the hoof that carried Mercy’s spell, and there was a meaty crunch. Mercy fell back onto her haunches with a gasp of pain, her weapons evaporating into yellow mist. Emberglow raised her shield to slam down once again.
Into whatever houses I enter, I will enter to help the sick, and I will do no harm or injustice to them.
It was enough to stop Emberglow dead in her motion. Her shield flickered and died, motes of spent magic dissipating into the air. Mercy looked up at her, eyes fearful and in pain. Emberglow stepped back, horrified.
“Emberglow, I…” Mercy whispered.
“Emberglow! Trouble!” The cry came from up above. Terminus was airborne, several lengths above the houses around them. Emberglow spared Mercy one last glance before launching herself into the air.
Terminus was holding his rifle with one hoof, the other trailing runes through the air to form a shield spell. Emberglow glanced down. The three marines were still cowering behind cover, but they’d begun to peek out, rifle muzzles leading. It was only a matter of time before bullets started whizzing their way.
As soon as she was alongside Terminus, and the shield was in place and glowing, Terminus pointed. Emberglow had to squint; there were flashes of light, but with only one eye there was nothing she could make out.
“What…”
“Sorry, I forgot,” Terminus called. “C’mon. Somepony is fighting. Somepony with blue magic.”
Emberglow shot off before Terminus could even call out in surprise, wings pumping as she powered herself towards the battle. Terminus caught up a few breaths later, and she heard a few halfhearted shots from the marines below. They never even bounced off the shield.
“They were all earth ponies, it will take them a few minutes to weave through the streets and alleys to catch up,” Terminus said, as the two of them barreled towards the fight up ahead. Squat homes flashed by underneath; they were a blur.
When Emberglow was finally close enough to see what was happening below, the sight chilled her. The young squire, Chocolate Chip, was sprawled out in the street, his eyes closed and his limbs twitching.
Rarity was backed against the rear wall of a short stucco house, her horn glowing and her eyes alight with fear. Closing in were two Knights menacing her with spears, their lavender armor dusty from the dirt on the road that had been kicked up in the fight. One of the Knights, she recognized as Joyful Noise, the Mystic who’d brought the motic scanning equipment to Manehatten.
The other Knight was Brightblade.
Terror and fury washed away conscious thought, and Emberglow was diving before she realized she’d made a conscious choice. She twisted her wings at the last second, ducking her head to the side to slam into Brightblade with her shoulder. Metal armor screamed as it screeched against metal armor, and both ponies slammed into the ground. The world spun, and Emberglow came to a stop a few yards away from Brightblade. His spear clattered to the dirt between them.
Both of them began struggling to their hooves. Brightblade’s face was awash with surprise and anger. Emberglow noticed with a tiny amount of satisfaction that he, too, had a damaged eye, hidden behind an eyepatch.
“Emberglow,” he breathed. “There you are.”
Both of them lunged for the fallen spear.
I will do no harm.
It was her own voice in her head, and Emberglow forced herself forward, past her own doubts and fear. Rarity was in danger. She’d worry about her oath later.
They reached the spear at the same time, seizing it with their hooves in a desperate split-second tug of war. This close, eye to eye, Emberglow could see a maelstrom of emotion, hate and glee, fear and bloodlust. He lashed out with a free hoof, catching her on the muzzle just below her good eye. She flinched away, and he shoved the spear forward, striking the wooden haft against her head so that she fell away, leaving him with the spear. He quickstepped between her and Rarity.
“I hoped,” he hissed. “Hoped and prayed I would find you here, Emberglow.” Emberglow tried to move to the side, but he shuffled to bar her. Thankfully Terminus was there, standing between Joy and Rarity. He was using his rifle like the shaft of a spear, blocking Joy’s stabs. “The Saints have granted me a second chance.”
Emberglow tried to drown out the hunger in his voice. “Rarity? Are you okay?”
“For now, darling.” Rarity’s voice sounded strained. “But poor Chip is wounded. He needs help.”
Emberglow slowly backed away from Brightblade, towards Chip’s limp form. Brightblade watched her warily, his good eye locked on her. She spared a quick, darting glance down at the young squire. He was breathing, and a bruised lump was forming on his head, just to the right of his horn.
“Chip?” Emberglow whispered. “You okay?” She couldn’t spare the time for a more detailed exam, as her attention was still focused on the slowly advancing Brightblade.
“L-lady Emberglow… I tried…”
“Shh, stay still. Terminus and I will take care of this.”
“Emberglow. Spare your friends some hurt. Surrender, and the pegasus and this colt can go free. Steadfast only wants you and the lie.”
“I’m right here, you scurrilous snake!” Rarity snarled. “And neither one of us will be going anywhere with you, so you can just turn around and crawl back to your master.”
“We can do this the difficult way, if you insist.” Brightblade didn’t even turn to look at Rarity. “You don’t have to be unharmed. Or conscious. And your heretic friends can all be dead, for all I care!”
The tip of his spear darted and danced wildly as he thrust it forward; not at Emberglow, but at the poor limp colt at her hooves. She did the only thing she could, and lunged in front of spear tip, flailing desperately for the weapon with her free hooves.
It worked, in part. Emberglow interposed herself between Chip and the spear. The tip of the spear slammed against her peytral, scoring a deep scratch in the white paint as it slid along it.
“Where’s your weapon, Knight?” Brightblade hissed, shoving against the weapon to push Emberglow away. “You’ve gotten sloppy since you turned traitor.”
Emberglow seethed, but she ignored him, focusing instead on the end of his spear. It darted back, then forward again, lunging this time towards her blind eye. Emberglow ducked underneath the thrust, but it was a feint. As her head ducked down to dodge the spear, his hoof shot up, crashing into her jaw.
Emberglow saw stars, with pain wrenching through her jaw. She managed to keep her hooves, turning her head back just in time to see the spear descending again. She held up a hoof to try and fend it off.
Suddenly a flash of cerulean light came from behind Brightblade, and he stumbled forward. Rarity’s horn glowed brightly, and her eyes burned with fury.
“I’ll teach you to ignore me, you… you vicious brute!” Rarity crowed. Emberglow spared a glance at Terminus; he was still going tete-a-tete with Joy, both of their hooves wrapped around her spear as they struggled together. “You leave those two alone!”
“Tell me, Emberglow,” Brightblade turned sideways, so he could try to keep an eye on both Rarity and Emberglow. Rarity fired another blast from her horn, but this time Brightblade leapt aside. “How easy was it to believe whatever deception the Discordant cooked up for you? Were you really so ready to believe this fake Saint?”
“I’ll have you know, it’s your Saint that’s fake. Of all the ridiculous things. Me, some sort of bigot?” Rarity snorted. “In case you couldn’t tell, I am a unicorn.”
“Of course,” Brightblade continued, ignoring Rarity. “I can see why. You were probably looking for an excuse. It’s not hard to see why you were so easily duped.”
Emberglow tried to drown him out. His earlier punch had left her head reeling, but she tried desperately to focus. There had to be a spell that would help, that could give them some space to retreat.
“After all, she is beautiful,” Brightblade said mockingly. “Is that all it took? Some dolled-up slut lifting her tail for you, and you crumbled like the weak mare I always knew you were.”
Emberglow blew air out of her nostrils in an angry huff. He was trying to make her angry. It was obvious. The problem was, it was working. She could see Rarity’s face, flush with anger at the insult. Rarity fired off another blast from her horn, which Brightblade dodged with almost contemptuous ease. Emberglow lifted her hoof to start casting.
“No you don’t, bitch,” Brightblade snarled, and she couldn’t help but flinch away from the fury she heard, the familiar spite and anger. It was just like the insults he would throw right before he struck her, back when…
Another cerulean beam flashed between them, forcing Brightblade back. Emberglow looked up gratefully, holding onto her concentration enough to finish her runes.
It was a guess; healing magic usually required diagnosis first; casting without knowing what was wrong with the patient was, at best, a shot in the dark. But as the runes came into shape in the air above her, Emberglow knew she’d guessed right; a glow of motes surrounded Chocolate Chip’s bruised head, and his eyes shot open, focusing instantly as he groaned in pain.
“Get up, squire,” she said. Chip didn’t hesitate, standing up on unsure hooves and shaking his head to clear it.
“Wha…”
“You were concussed. Head injury. I healed you.”
“F-feels weird…”
“Focus, squire. Eyes forward.” Rarity was forcing Brightblade back with a series of blasts from her horn, but she was sweating and breathing heavily. When one of her blasts did connect, it didn’t do much; Brightblade was forced back a bit, grunting in pain, but didn’t appear too injured.
“L-Lady Emberglow! I’m so sorry, I didn’t see where he c-came from!” Chip’s voice was panicked. “I…”
“No time, squire,” Emberglow cut through harshly. “Take Rarity and go.” Emberglow could hear the thundering of hooves from behind them, and dared a glance.
Running up the street, in a cloud of dust kicked up by their hooves, was Mercy Song and the three marines. They were out of time.
“Go, Chip!” Emberglow screamed, and the squire burst into motion, dashing towards Rarity. Emberglow lunged at Brightblade, who was looking behind her with a smug grin. He raised his spear to meet her charge, but she jerked to the side. Rarity’s blasts had forced him back enough that she could dart between him and her, giving Chip a clear path.
Once again she raised her hoof to begin casting, but nothing came. No options, no ideas. Panic flowed into her mind and clenched her throat and stomach.
Brightblade paced forward slowly, spear tip shining in the light, as Emberglow backed slowly towards Terminus and the two unicorns. With three Knights and three marines closing fast, they were outnumbered.
“I don’t suppose you can teleport?” Terminus whispered softly to Chip and Rarity. He’d backed away from Joy, the space between them lit by the shell of his own shield spell. Chip shook his head with a gulp.
“Spellcasting was never my forte, darling,” Rarity said. “What should…”
“Emberglow?” Terminus said. “Time for a feathery taxi service?”
Emberglow flared her wings and tried to leap into the air, but a sudden sound of movement from her blind side gave her just enough time to turn. Brightblade had sprinted into a tackle and leapt as well, high enough to slam into her and send them both tumbling to the ground.
“I’m not letting you get away, traitor,” he growled, his muzzle close to her ear. “We have a lot to talk about. And I owe you for what your heretic friend did to my eye.”
He hadn’t been this close to her since the camp. Since the tent. Since she had been bound, helpless under his control. The smell of him, the bitter acrid scent of his sweat, the feel of his hooves on her set her trembling with terror and rage. Emberglow flailed about in a blind panic, hooves lashing out wildly. One impacted against his stomach, and she heard the huff of pain as she drove the air from his lungs. Another slammed against the side of his face, just under his eye patch. He groaned, falling to the side, and she kicked him again, this time aiming between his hind legs. Brightblade gasped and shriveled up around himself protectively.
His head, however, was unprotected. Prone. Laying against the dirt. A billion images flashed through her mind.
Brightblade, holding a rod in his hooves as he prepared to swing.
Brightblade, sneering at her as she panted and wept in pain.
Brightblade, his eyes half-lidded with silent contempt as he spat on her.
Brightblade, panting and sweating with exertion as he’d just finished a torture session.
Brightblade, his cruel smirk glowing with the light of his gauntlet as he healed her, getting ready for the next interrogation.
She didn’t even realize she was screaming. Emberglow was reared up on her hind hooves, her forehooves in the air, ready to slam down. To shut him up forever. To beat the life out of his eyes, and render them dull, dark…
And safe.
…I will do no harm.
“…berglow! Miss Emberglow!” Rarity’s cry broke her free from her haze, and her hooves fell, harmlessly, in front of Brightblade’s face. He gave a small whimper of what might have been relief or fear, but she didn’t care.
Emberglow leapt over him, spreading her wings and firing herself into the sky a few hooves high, swooping back with a powerful flap of her wings until she hovered right above Rarity. “Sorry about this!” She reached down and wrapped her hooves around Rarity’s barrel and jerked her into the air.
Brightblade’s face twisted with rage, and he lunged to his hooves and seized his spear from where it had clattered on the ground. While Emberglow was beating her wings to get her and her cargo airborne, he charged, spear first, aiming for Rarity’s unprotected torso. Emberglow twisted in the air so that his spear found her armor instead of Rarity’s flesh. The tip slid along the armor before finding the seam between her peytral and criniere, piercing her chest. She gasped in pain but pumped her wings, trying to pull out of his reach. The spear was jammed between the metal plates of her armor.
Brightblade tried to hang onto the spear, standing on his hind hooves to try to hold her back, but Emberglow fought through the pain to pull herself into the skies. Finally he let go with a curse, dropping to the street while she carried his spear away with her.
“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” Emberglow chanted as she dragged Rarity towards the clouds. For her part, at least, Rarity tried to remain still, but Emberglow heard the mare gasp in pain. “Oh! Did he…”
“I’m fine, darling. Your armor is just pinching a bit. Get us clear, then we can rearrange ourselves.”
Emberglow glanced behind her. Terminus was in hot pursuit, carrying Chip in his own hooves. He had placed himself between Emberglow and the marines, who were now raising their weapons. Shots rang out, shattering the air with their explosions, and Emberglow saw the flashes of light as the bullets slammed against Terminus’ shield.
“Eyes forward, Knight! Fly hard!” Terminus ordered. It broke her out of her worry and panic to have somepony, specifically somepony who technically outranked her, giving her orders. She whipped her head back forward and flapped her wings as hard as she could, zipping low over the houses and buildings. “We’re just lucky they didn’t have pegasi.”
“Yet,” Rarity muttered darkly. “I’m sure they can scrounge some up somewhere.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll keep you safe.” Emberglow’s whisper was strained with pain. Her chest ached, and she could feel the trickle of blood running down her side.
“Me? What about you?” Rarity hissed. “You’re bleeding!”
“We can worry about that later,” Emberglow grunted, shunting the pain aside as she did her best to hold tight to her precious cargo.
“Emberglow! We have pursuit!” Terminus shouted. Emberglow had a twinge of déjà vu; it was just like when they’d escaped from the camp. “We’re changing direction, don’t head back to the house!”
“Where to?”
“Veer east, outside of town!” he shouted back. She could barely hear him, but she nodded. “We’ll set down as soon as we’re a few blocks away!”
Emberglow probably could have gone several minutes of flight, even though it wouldn’t have been very comfortable. The spear wound in her chest ached, and it was deep, but pain was pain. She ignored it and flew.
“Set down, and run!” he called out.
“Yes, sir!” She swooped down to the street. The stuck spear clattered to the ground, and without thinking Emberglow scooped it up. Even with her oath, there was a strange sort of comfort at being armed again.
This part of town was a little more populated; this close to the edge of Jubilation, there was traffic on the large road coming into the town. Zebras, with wagons and carts, looked up in shock as Emberglow gently set Rarity down on the stone before coming to a clumsy landing herself. She spared one second to glance at her wound; it was hard to tell how bad it was underneath her armor and gambeson, but she could see a wet red spot on the fabric, and a small trickle of blood leaked out from between her armor and her skin.
Rarity rushed over to help, but Terminus landed right next to them.
“No time. Get moving.” He spared a concerned glance at her injury, but Emberglow nodded and broke into a run. Rarity yelped in protest, galloping alongside her.
“Terminus, darling, Emberglow is wounded. What…”
“I’m fine, Rarity,” Emberglow said. Honestly, the short hard flight had barely left her winded, though breathing hurt. Each exhausted gasp of air sent a fresh stab of fire into her chest, where she’d been stabbed. She ignored it as she ran. “Let’s just get free, and we can worry about injuries.” That reminded her. “Chip? How’s your head feeling?”
“Hurts,” Chip panted. Emberglow slowed enough so that she was galloping beside the teenager. It would be nearly impossible to perform an examination while running, but she did her best to look into his eyes, looking for ongoing symptoms of a concussion.
“You feeling dizzy or nauseous?”
“N-no,” Chip said, after a moment of thought.
“Tell me if you are, okay? Doctor’s orders.” Chip glanced at her and nodded.
They wove their way through carts of vegetables and produce and crafted goods, and the confused and angry zebras hauling them into the city. Emberglow could see an archway suspended between two huge sandstone pillars; the gate leading out of the city. It was only a few blocks away. She glanced at Chip by her right side; he was panting, and his brow was furrowed.
“Just a little further, squire,” she encouraged. “You’ve got this.” He nodded, but she could see the pain and fatigue dragging at him.
Emberglow glanced behind her; the skies were clear. Whatever pursuit had followed them after the battle was now no longer in the air behind them. Ahead, the local zebras were clearing out of their way, some with disgruntled shouts, but most with wary expressions on their face as the two Knights, one dripping blood, barreled through the crowd towards the archway.
Just outside the walls of Jubilation, the city didn’t exactly end. There was a tent city on the other side of the wall, built with sandstone bricks piled just higher than Emberglow’s head. The tent city was a rainbow palette of colors. There were hundreds of tents of travelling merchants who couldn’t afford to find lodging within the city, staying outside the walls and carting their market goods inside every day. Emberglow thanked her lucky stars that it wasn’t peak hour — the crowd of zebras trying to enter the city would have been a nightmare to try and navigate.
The four of them ran until they were well outside the large concentration of tents, where only a few small cloth structures stood. Emberglow even allowed herself to hope, to feel the elation of victory, before a figure zipped out of the sky, dropping down in front of them with a puff of dirt. She was followed by two others.
“Hold!” the leader demanded authoritatively. She was a middle aged pegasus mare, dressed in the uniform of Jubilation’s guard. Both of her subordinates were pegasi as well, though one of them had painted zebra stripes on his flank. “Stop, by authority of the Jubilation Council!”
Emberglow skidded to a halt, gripping her spear. It felt both comforting and alien to her; she didn’t know what she’d do if she were forced to fight with it again.
“Please don’t stand in our way,” Terminus called out calmly, standing beside Emberglow. “If you know what we are, you know what we can do. Don’t force us to harm you.”
“We don’t do threats, Discordant,” the mare said. “You’re in Jubilation. I have the authority to arrest you for assault, disturbing the peace, public nuisance, and bearing weapons without permit. Please turn and come with us back to the city.”
Emberglow tried her best to size up the mare. She looked determined, but frightened. She clearly didn’t want to have this confrontation, either. “Don’t do this, ma’am,” Emberglow said. “We assaulted nopony, we were only defending ourselves and our friends. We have wounded. Can I…” she motioned to Chocolate Chip, who was slumped behind her.
“Keep your hooves where I can see them, Knight. Where…” the guardsmare’s eyes widened suddenly, and she gasped. “Chip?”
“H-hey, Aunt Dart,” Chip stammered. He tried to lift a hoof to wave, but it was weak. Emberglow turned to face him, her gauntlet darting through the air to form the runes of a diagnosis spell.
Information flooded her mind. Chip was exhausted, slightly concussed, with two cracked ribs. No wonder he was struggling to draw a full breath.
“I’m going to heal him now,” Emberglow said over her shoulder at the guardsmare. It wasn’t a request. She nodded dumbly, and Emberglow ignored her to begin casting again. Her gauntlet was low; the third yellow light was blinking as she began the spell to repair his ribs. “Terminus? Do you have some water?” He shook his head. “How about you, Officer… Dart?” She didn’t turn away from her work, but she could tell from the silence behind her that she’d surprised the pegasus with her question.
She finished her spell, and Chip gasped at the discomfort of the magic flooding his chest. Somepony trotted up alongside her, and Emberglow glanced up. It was the Jubilation officer, holding a waterskin. Emberglow pointed to Chip.
“I told you, kid. You mix up with these dangerous types, you’re gonna get hurt,” she said softly as she offered him the water, which he took with his magic and gulped down greedily. “You know you can still join the guard, right?”
“Sorry, auntie,” Chip gasped between gulps. “Gotta f-follow my heart.”
“Of course,” the officer sighed. She looked at Emberglow. “How is he?”
“He’s okay, now. Rest would be ideal.” Emberglow tried not to be worried. This mare was playing nice for now, but she was there to arrest them. “If we get…” she cut off with a hiss, as a shift of her leg shot pain down her side, reminding her of her own wound.
“You’re wounded?” Dart asked, peering at the blood staining Emberglow’s white armor.
“Yes,” Emberglow bit back a sarcastic remark. “What did you think?” The mare’s eyes narrowed, and she flushed slightly. “I’m fine, though. As long as nopony stops us again.”
“Are you going to try to arrest us?” Terminus asked. His tone was calm, but there was enough of an emphasis on the word ‘try’ that the soldiers all bristled. Dart shook her head.
“I’m not going to arrest anypony,” Dart said slowly. “Because I didn’t see the ponies I was sent to arrest.” She glanced at her subordinates. “Did you?”
“Ma’am…” one of them said warningly.
“Private, I’m not going to arrest Chip. You know him!” She waved a hoof at the young squire. “Look, I know what our orders are. I heard them as well as you. But we all know it’s horseapples. Just because the council wants to get all cozy with the Diarchy doesn’t mean we’re going to start jailing our friends and family. Got it?”
“But…”
“Besides, they’re Knights, and we’re in their way. Do you think they’re going to hesitate to cut through us if we get in their way?” Both other guards paled.
“Ma’am, the sergeant said…”
“I’ve been serving the Jubilation guard for decades now, Private. If they wanna fire me over something stupid, let ‘em. I’ve got some savings. If you really feel your conscience is saying to turn me in, go for it.” She turned towards Chip and Emberglow, her eyes narrowing with warning. “And you. Whatever mess you’ve got Chip tangled up in, you get him out. He’s a good colt.” Chip actually managed to smile at the compliment.
She gave both of her underlings a significant glance, then coiled her legs to leap into the air. At the last second, though, she hesitated. “Diarchy ground forces have been patrolling the area around Jubilation. If they get too close, we’ll chase them off, but they’ve been avoiding confrontation. Stay out of their way.” With that, she took off, and her soldiers followed quickly, taking formation behind her. Emberglow watched them go.
“Your aunt?”
“Not by blood,” Chip said. “Spear D-dart is really just a family friend. I’m not old enough to remember, but when Mom fled the D-diarchy our ship got attacked just in the harbor.” He pointed to the east. “Spear D-dart was one of the soldiers Jubiliation sent to fish us out of the ocean. I was b-barely able to talk.” He shook his head sadly. “All the p-ponies in Jubilation used to be so close. This is d-dividing us.”
“C’mon,” Terminus interrupted. “Let’s talk as we walk. We need to get clear of the walls and far enough away that I can contact the others safely.” The four of them began to trot as Chip spoke.”
“A while ago, some numbskull on the J-jubilation Council got bit signs in his eyes. Thought that maybe she could get rich if we got in b-bed with the Diarchy. So she started p-pushing for things. Like easing restrictions on the number of soldiers and Knights they c-could have in their embassy, or the laws keeping their missionaries from harassing p-people in p-public.” He shuddered. “Just the other d-day I had a street p-preacher trying to whip up a mob against me, b-because of my horn.”
“That sounds terrifying, darling,” Rarity breathed.
“Eh,” Chip shrugged. “I guess. It d-didn’t get far, the guards broke it up. They’re still on the side of p-peace and justice, for now. But it’s getting worse. Some of the non-unicorn expatriates, the earth p-ponies and p-pegasi, are starting to wonder.”
“How could they?” Rarity hissed. “They should all know what you all have been through.”
“Not everypony who l-lives here is a first-generation escapee from the D-diarchy, like me,” Chip said. “Some of them have b-been here for generations. I guess you tend to f-forget what it’s like when you’ve lived your whole l-life in peace.”
“I thought you said you were too young to remember when you came over?” Terminus asked gently.
Chip nodded. “I am. My m-mom’s not. She still w-wakes up with nightmares, s-sometimes.”
* * * * *
They found a small hollow behind a large rock, nestled up against a wide stream that separated them from a vast plain of grass dancing slowly in the breeze. Once they had settled down, Chip forced Emberglow to remove her peytral and her criniere so he could wash and bandage her wound. It was small, but deep. She was actually surprised to find the young colt was adept with his magic when it came to stitching wounds. It was enough that even Rarity complimented him.
“I used to help my m-mom mend clothing,” he explained when she asked.
Meanwhile, Terminus had quickly cast a series of long-distance communication spells. They weren’t good for sending complex messages, but he could at least alert Heartwing as to where they were, and the broad strokes of what had happened.
After, there was nothing left to do but wait for word from Heartwing, and waiting meant Emberglow’s thoughts had time to catch up to her. She didn’t want to be alone with her thoughts, to consider just how close she’d come to violating her brand new oath.
It’s not like oaths mean much to you, do they? You already broke most of your oaths of Knighthood, after all.
She shook her head violently. The nagging voice in the back of her head, the one that usually sounded like Gadget, was growing fainter, but it still managed to derail her thoughts from time to time, as well as maintaining it’s firm hold in her nightmares. The past few nights on the ship had been bad; Topaz had warned her that distance might make it more difficult for them to meet in her dreams, which also meant it was more difficult for Topaz to intervene in Emberglow’s nightmares.
“Emberglow? Chip? Rarity?” Terminus’ voice broke through her dark thoughts, and she glanced up to see his gauntlet glowing. “Word from Heartwing.” She tried not to sigh in relief. “They also encountered Diarchy Knights. It seems they were looking for us.”
“Is everypony okay?” Chip perked up, his expression worried.
Terminus nodded. “As far as I can tell. They’re making their way here. Nopony wants to lead them back to Iodine and Bolero’s house. We’re to be ready to flee as soon as they arrive.”
“F-flee?” Chip stammered.
“Not you,” Terminus corrected. “Willow, Justice, and Chip will be staying behind, laying low in Jubilation. The rest of us will be leaving town for a bit, hopefully to draw their attention east.”
“East?” Chip looked confused. “There’s nothing to the east. Just days and days of savannah.”
“There’s something out there Heartwing wants to look into,” Terminus said. “I suppose we can come back later to try again for the Element Celeano hid near here, once things have calmed down.”
That was fine with Emberglow. She had no desire to run into Mercy again, or Brightblade.
You’re sure that’s just because you don’t want to feel guilty about what you nearly did?
“Be ready to leave as soon as they get here. It’s possible they’re being chased. The messenger spell only allows a few words, and Heartwing seemed tense.”
“How will he know where to find us?”
“We’re going to wait a few minutes, then one of you two will send up a flare with your horn. If nothing happens, we’ll do it again a few minutes later, until they find us. Speaking of which…” Terminus nodded expectantly at Rarity.
“Do you have a color preference, darling?” Rarity asked with a tilt of her eyebrows, and Terminus chuckled slightly, shaking his head. Her horn glowed blue, and a bright line of sparks shot into the sky.
The ponies watched it soar into the clear air. They were silent as it burst into sparks, like a firework, before they relaxed as best they could and started to wait.
Three more times Chip and Rarity shot sparks into the air, every few minutes just like Terminus had said. Emberglow was beginning to grow nervous. What if Heartwing and the others had been taken? As much as Rarity was supposed to somehow be the leader of this adventure, he was the one with the knowledge and the plan. If he were lost or killed, what…
“There,” Terminus had been watching from a perch on top of the large rock. He flared his wings and rose into the air a few hooves high, waving with one hoof. “I see them. They’re not being followed.” He dropped back down behind the rock, and Emberglow had to fight the urge to glance for herself. She felt impatient and restless, and still a little more sore than she’d like.
It wasn’t a long wait. Heartwing and the two mare Knights rounded the boulder a minute later, out of breath. All three bore some sort of wounds, and Emberglow immediately leapt to her hooves and rushed over to Willow, who looked the worst, with her fur and armor marred with patches of blood and a large, bruised looking black eye already swelling. A particularly nasty looking gash had stained the armor near her flank bright red.
“What happened to you three?” Terminus was also on his hooves, lunging over to embrace Heartwing tight enough that he grunted with pain.
“My fault, entirely,” he admitted. Emberglow listened while she began going over Willow’s wounds. She mostly had shallow cuts and scrapes, though the wound by her flank would need stitches. She’d used much of her battery; it was probably prudent to save her power in case of more emergency wounds.
Emberglow moved on to Justice, but the old Knight waved her away impatiently. With a shrug, she moved back to Heartwing as he continued to speak. “We got too close to the Diarchy Embassy. I was trying to get a look through one of their windows, but I tripped an alarm ward and the whole place lit up with guards and soldiers. We would’ve been in trouble if more Knights had been at home.” His own wounds were even more superficial than Willow’s.
“No. They were out, looking for us,” Terminus said. “At least, I think so.”
“Here specifically for us?” Heartwing asked.
“I think so. One of them found us in the Gold Run. A Knight Radiant, who knew Emberglow.”
“She’s an old friend,” Emberglow said, then cringed at the rush of grief. “Was an old friend. I…” Her mind was still replaying the stunted conversation she’d had with Mercy. She didn’t want to talk about it. She just wanted to get lost in her job, in healing. But they had to know. “She said she had a message from Steadfast, but then admitted they had orders to take me, and Rarity, back to him alive.”
“Do you think he knows about you and the Element of Honesty?” Heartwing asked.
Emberglow nodded. “It reacted a few times when we spoke last, before he had me…” She swallowed. “Before he had me arrested and tortured. Also… Brightblade is here.”
“The brute who brutalized poor Emberglow before,” Rarity said. The sympathy and care in her voice bolstered Emberglow. She retrieved the first aid kit she kept in her saddlebags and threaded a needle to begin stitching Willow’s wound while they spoke.
“The last I heard from Cobalt, news of Rarity isn’t widespread in New Canterlot City,” Heartwing mused. Emberglow stared at him. It seemed to come out of nowhere. “So Steadfast knows about Rarity, after he saw her in the camp, but he hasn’t announced her presence yet.” A slow grin spread over his muzzle. “That’s why he wanted Rarity. He’s trying to keep a muzzle on things. Keep you hushed up.”
“Meanwhile, you’ve been showing me off at every opportunity,” Rarity noted. “At the camp, through town here. You have a plan?”
“A bit,” Heartwing admitted. “Rumor and gossip are often a better path to spreading truth than grand announcements and press releases. The soldiers who saw you at the camp on the griffon border? The Knights who saw you today? They’re not going to forget it. And it’s going to eat at them. And some of them might even tell their friends.”
“So…” Willow interrupted, flinching as Emberglow began her stitching. “I didn’t screw up?”
“Whatever are you talking about, darling?” Rarity asked.
“I was sure it was because of me. That you three were attacked.” Willow blushed and looked away. “My great plan to parade us about, and remind the zebras that they owe us.” She snorted. “Some strategist I am.”
“It was a good plan,” Heartwing protested. “We just didn’t know they were here already looking for us.”
“But how did they know to look for us?” Emberglow asked, freezing in her stitching as a chill settled in her stomach.
“We assumed they were amassing here to look for the Element we were looking for. Maybe they reasoned this was the first place we’d look, and set a trap?”
“Could be both,” Willow mused. “We can look into it.”
“You’ll have to,” Heartwing said. “We’re going to draw their attention away from Jubilation. If I’m right, I have another lead on one of the other Elements, in a village far to the east. Nyumba Ya Joka.”
“So… splitting up?” Willow asked.
“We are. The four of us will kick up a bit of a ruckus, draw their eyes. Willow, Justice, and Chip will stay here and lay low.” Heartwing gave them all a solemn look. “You can do some digging if you want, but stay safe. We might be gone several weeks. It should give some time for things to calm down, and our trail to grow cold. Maybe they’ll even give up.” He didn’t sound too hopeful.
“If you want to make a fuss, a local guard told us that there are Diarchy patrols throughout the area,” Terminus offered. “It should be easy enough to find one and draw their attention.”
“That’s our plan, then.”