//------------------------------// // Tales of the Third Age // Story: The Heart's Promise // by MyHobby //------------------------------// Palace of the Royal Pony Sisters Ft. Everfree, Equestrian Capital Summer Solstice, Year 0 CE (Celestial Era) Even a blind mare could tell when the world was ending. Clover the Clever awoke to the thunderous crash of magic rending stone. Thunderclaps shook the air, but the sky itself was clear of clouds. This was worse than any storm. This was more devastating than a famine and more deadly than a plague. After seventy years of resentment, Celestia and Luna were finally at war. Clover had been blind most of her life, but there was no question who was fighting. The echoes of the Royal Voice screaming insults and injuries mingled with enough magical power to blow Canter Mountain into the ocean. Her horn itched as the forces of nature raged between the two alicorns. She reached out with her own—comparatively feeble—magic and called a cloak to her. Its fibers were enchanted to channel magic to her eyes, allowing her a form of sight. She could see the magic within others, each as unique as a face or cutie mark. She could see the ties between people as they went about their day together. She could see friendship and harmony at work. So she had also seen the lack between the sisters. But… “Clover!” Clover the Clever’s eyes illuminated as she pulled the hood over her head. She saw a vision of color gallop into her room that gradually came into focus as the hood’s enchantment took hold. It was a dear friend. A lifelong companion. One of the few she had left. Smart Cookie helped Clover get to her hooves. Now that the hood had been fully activated, her friend’s face came into a soft focus. Not quite as the eye would have seen it, but distinct nonetheless, as if she were a painting come to life. She was a strong, lovely earth pony, with laugh lines around her mouth and eyes. Her mane had faded over the years, but still held a hint of healthy color, like molasses topped with frosting. As beautiful as the aged mare was, it could not hide how distraught she was. “Luna has gone mad! She attacked the Day Court. We don’t know how many are wounded. None of the soldiers could stand against her. Only Celestia—” Smart Cookie winced as a tower crumbled away from the town’s defensive wall. “And those two could bring the entire kingdom to ruin.” “They will bring the kingdom to ruin.” Clover wrapped her body in her cloak and trotted to the door to her room. She pushed it open and felt a wave of heat wash over her. The castle itself was aflame. “Their control over the heavenlies will see to that. It means that it is up to us to see that… whomever remains when the dust settles can rebuild.” Smart Cookie furrowed her brow. A touch of anger built up in her breast. “You prepared for this? You knew it would happen?” “I knew it could happen, but I foolishly believed that those two would reconcile.” Clover spun, her cloak dancing around her hooves. She felt her muzzle twist into a worried frown of its own accord, though she wished to favor her friend with something a little more confident. “Now that the sisters are no longer friends, now that they are unable to wield the power of the Elements of Harmony, we must safeguard the relics for the day when someone else can.” Smart Cookie sucked in a sharp breath, but held on to her anger. She, too, knew that there was no time to argue. “What is it you seek to do?” “Quickly. My laboratory.” With that said, Clover the Clever rushed through what was left of the castle, towards the lower levels. She could hear screams of panic rise above the thunder of magic and the crackle of flames. Ponies rushed to and fro, running nowhere and everywhere at once. There wasn’t enough consensus to form a stampede, because the alicorn duel had shattered any sense of reason, even what was ingrained into their genetic material. A chill in the air caused her neck hair to stand on end. “Cookie… what time is it? I just stepped in for my nap.” “It’s still noon, Clover,” Smart Cookie whispered. “Luna has refused to lower the moon.” As if to answer even more clearly, a shout of laughter echoed across the entire town of Fort Everfree. Clover gaped out a window and saw Luna flying through what seemed to be a night sky. The full moon fell behind her, revealing that she wore a full suit of armor. And yet, she was changed. Her glistening blue coat was now swallowed up in darkness. Her gently-swaying mane was whipped by the powers she opposed her sister with. Fangs flashed as spittle flew from her mouth. “Equestria bows before the Noontide Moon!” she screeched. “We have come to claim the heavens for Our own! The night shall last forever!” Celestia responded with a wordless scream as she barreled into her sister’s chest. The resultant shockwave fanned the flames and rustled Clover’s cloak. Clover the Clever gritted her teeth. “We must work quickly.” A winged, soot-covered form soared through the window from the smoke-filled sky. He had the look of a griffon to him, save for the hooves that made up his hind legs and the blue color that filled his feathers. He rushed up to Smart Cookie and wrapped her in a winged hug. “Mother! You’re safe!” “Moshe!” Smart Cookie nuzzled the hippogriff’s neck. “Where’s your father?” “He’s helping Prince Periwinkle gather the able-bodied.” Moshe looked to Clover for only a moment before returning his attention to Cookie. “You need to join them, Mother. The castle’s falling apart. It won’t be long before Luna sets her sights on you. Both of you.” “You are right, of course.” Clover the Clever peered into the billowing smoke for any sign of her and Smart Cookie’s husbands. She saw nothing but devastation. “See to it that wagons and carts are procured to transport the wounded. Gather all the hay you can for cushions—everything that hasn’t been burned by the fire.” “Yes, Lady Clover.” Moshe bowed his head dutifully, if a little frustratedly. “Preparations are already underway.” He reached out a talon to take his mother’s foreleg. “But we need to get you two to safety. The future of Equestria rides on you as well.” Clover touched a hoof to his talon and gently lowered it to the floor. “You have your duty, just as we have ours. We’ll rendezvous at the city gates. Assuming they still stand.” Moshe looked to his mother, who gave him a soft nod. He clicked his beak and turned back to the window. “By your leave, Archmage.” The rest of the walk to the laboratory was swift and harrowing. Once Clover and Smart Cookie entered, she went to work gathering her research material. Drawers were locked, their contents sealed away. Active tests were sterilized, rendered inert, and stowed where they would harm no one. Her library vanished behind a trick wall, along with the years of knowledge stored within. “Smart Cookie, I need to entrust you with this.” Clover pulled a particularly thick book from the library just before the rest vanished. She handed it to her friend with a tremor in her hooves. The cover of the book read Grimoire Alicorn. “This book was King Sombra’s life’s work. And… and also mine. It is extremely dangerous. If something happens to me, see to it that it does not fall into the wrong hands.” She walked to the center of her laboratory, to a wooden pedestal. On it she had placed a book that had taken her years to write. Not merely because of the amount of research that filled it, but because she had lived it day by day. “But even the Grimoire,” she said quietly, “is not as dangerous as this.” “Your diary?” “Journal, Cookie.” Smart Cookie stood beside her friend and looked down at the simple hoof-bound book. “What then? What secrets does this hold?” Clover opened to the middle of the book, looking over the detailed maps and notes she had taken. Every few pages lay a color sketch of a particular gemstone containing endless power. “I detailed where Celestia and Luna found the six Elements of Harmony. Together, these relics are the only thing that can stop a rampaging alicorn. Luna knows this.” Cookie held the Grimoire close to her chest. “You think she will destroy the Elements?” “It would be wise for her to do so. I do not believe Celestia can win this fight. With both threats removed, nothing will stand between Luna and sole control of the kingdom.” Clover the Clever held the journal in her forelegs. She shook her head softly as her ears drooped at the sides of her head. “If they are destroyed, they will no doubt return to their points of origin, as they did in ancient times. We must preserve this information for the next generation of heroes. If the forces of darkness were to learn where they would materialize—” A jittery voice spoke out of the shadows. “The Elements would never be found again.” Clover and Cookie both spun towards the entrance to the laboratory to face the intruder. Soft hoofsteps clattered down the stairwell into the lab’s main room. A small figure became visible in the light of Clover’s candles. He had the appearance of a small earth pony, grey of coat and black of mane. His face was bland and unremarkable, the sort you would forget the instant you looked away. He wore long robes, which ended just above his horseshoes. A black hat sat between his ears, with a brim that reached to the end of his nose. A red scarf lay wrapped around his neck, and served as the only shock of color on his entire body. The strangest part to Clover was that he appeared in her eyes without assistance from the cloak. He was in sharp contrast, lacking the feathering and brushstrokes that represented her view of the rest of the world. It was as if, out of everything in the room, he alone was real. To her, that meant that he was not of this world. “Who are you? What do you want?” His eyebrows rose as a smile split his face. “Ah. How rude of me.” He bowed deeply, his muzzle nearly reaching the floor. “A visiting prince should greet the Archmage of Equestria with more care.” He removed his hat with a flourish and looked up at the two of them. “Please, you may call me Jeuk.” Clover took a step back as several more stallions—appearing murky and undefined in her enchanted sight—joined Jeuk at the bottom of the spiral staircase. These stallions were all strong, with well-toned muscles and legs, familiar with cruelty and violence. She gestured for Smart Cookie to stand behind her. “You are Yolk… A prince of eggs, perhaps?” “No, no, no. You misunderstand.” Jeuk took a step forward to match the distance between them. “I am Jeuk, Princeling of the Unseelie Court of Fae. I am the ruler of the land you call… Equestria.” Fae. A fairy creature. Something she had only heard of in legends. Something she was not sure actually existed. In fact, she had personally discarded the possibility that they were real, finding it unproductive to investigate such beings. At first, she thought it a plain, bald-faced lie. But as she considered how he could appear to her despite her disability… “Jeuk, then. Of the Unseelie Court, you said? It is said that the Unseelie Court has not been kind to the mortals who encounter them. In fact, legend has it that you are our bitter enemies.” She gripped the book all the tighter, attempting to hide it beneath her cloak. She noted with a growing tension in her back that the other stallions had spread out around her laboratory. Thankfully, most of the dangerous relics and equipment she had were hidden away. “Ah, yes. So you have heard of us.” Jeuk rubbed his chin as he regarded the unicorn mare and her earth pony friend. “Allow me to dispel any worries you might have. We are very bitter enemies, dear Clover. I want a great many things, you see, and one of them is to leave your Equestria broken and bleeding at my feet. The second is that book you hold in your hooves.” He gestured to Smart Cookie dismissively. “The both of them.” The castle trembled as arcane magicks, the power of the sun and moon, clashed in a battle that would destroy all that Clover had worked to build. Jeuk smiled upwards towards the surface. “And most of all, I would like to see your Royal Pony Sisters, the precious heroes, the hopes of Equestria, the mighty saviors themselves, destroy each other in a fit of rage.” He looked to the brutish stallions and jerked his head towards the mares. The stallions charged as one. Clover sent a spell into the ground to heat the rocks until they’d nearly ignited. The stallions didn’t stop. They didn’t even feel their horseshoes melting. The magic that existed inside all living things was weak in them, as if they’d been drained of their vitality. As if their minds and souls had been dimmed in order to make their bodies all the stronger. Their expressions were blank. Their gait was rigid and mechanical. As they grew closer, she saw the haze around their heads—these stallions had been willfully subjected to mind-altering magic until there was nothing left but focus. She raised a bubble of magic as a shield and brushed the six stallions aside. “Cookie! The exit!” Smart Cookie knew better than to argue. The book she had was too dangerous. She bolted past Jeuk and tromped up the stairs two at a time. Impressive for a mare pushing ninety. Clover’s next spell surrounded the closest stallion with a cord made from pure magic. When his skin contacted it, it burned. The stallion didn’t seem to care. His mind was gone in a way that could only result from a purposeful release of free will; to have been so dedicated to a cause that he lost his very sense of self. There was no individuality to the six stallions surrounding her, only a mindless murk of oozing shadowy magic. She whipped the cord around and around, striking each stallion several times. Before a minute had passed, they were all lying dead on the floor around her. “Amusing,” Jeuk said as he walked towards her. He let out a giggling little laugh as he stepped over a fallen stallion. “Most very, very amusing.” Clover slashed at the fairy creature with the magic cord. It burned a hole clear through his clothes, but the fairy himself seemed unharmed. He reached out and touched her cheek, and she found herself unable to pull away. He matched each hoofstep with one of his own. “You have ultimately always been blind, dear Clover,” he said with a stuttering laugh. “No, I don’t mean physically, that’s such a minor thing which only lasts so long as you take breath. No, I mean blind to what’s happening around you. Blind to the pain that Luna experienced every day living in her sister’s shadow. Blind to how Hurricane poisoned her with anger which only festered all the deeper under your magic tutelage. And my how it festered, drawing the Unseelie Court closer and closer until today. Today!” Clover pushed past him, her legs aching as her age caught up with the frenzied movement of the day. She climbed the stairs with shaking knees as Jeuk followed, his laughter ricocheting up the stairwell like an arrow rebounding off a shield. When she reached the surface, the castle proper, she looked up the see Fort Everfree in ruins. Luna had made certain to overturn nearly every stone and cart in the town. Though the wounded had not been attacked directly, the alicorns’ power was so great that mere proximity to the great duel had left their subjects beaten nearly lifeless. There would be friends to bury, at the end of the day. And there, in the throne room of the castle, lay a battered and bleeding Princess Celestia. Blood leaked from the alicorn’s nose as labored breathing wracked her bruised ribs. Her wings were missing feathers. Her coat was matted and patchwork. Her mane had lost its luster by several orders of magnitude. Soaring high in the sky, laughing with the sort of cackle that only deep-seated hatred can bring, was the Princess of the Night. Jeuk spoke from just beside Clover’s ear. Close enough to tickle her with his breath, if fairies had any. “I wish I could take credit for Luna—that is, Nightmare Moon—but alas, I cannot. All of the truths we told her, all of Shadowfright’s nightmares and dreams of the future, all of the daily grind that led her to this point, that was you. That was you, and Hurricane, and Celestia. So thank you. Thank you ever so much for this marvelous gift you’ve given the Unseelie Court.” Clover bowed her head, her twin braids sliding across her chest. She had to face facts. Equestria was dead. The dream was over. There was only sorrow and fear as a maddened alicorn took control. Celestia stirred. Clover watched with held breath as the Princess of the Day rose on shaking hooves. She took painful steps forward, her wings limp at her sides. She glared forward, not looking up, not looking to the side. She touched a particular stone on the floor in front of the throne. A pedestal rose, on which sat the six glistening emblems known as the Elements of Harmony. The glimmering pink of Kindness. The blazing red of Loyalty. The noble purple of Generosity. The steadfast orange of Honesty. The passionate blue of Laughter. The vibrant shine of the sixth and most fragile among them. Celestia took them all in a wave of magic and arranged them around her body. Clover stepped forward, one hoof raised. “Celestia, stop! The Elements are too powerful! Only a group of ponies in unity can hope to activate them!” Celestia turned to her, and Clover saw her full in the face. Her eyes screamed with unshed tears, as if her heart had already perished from weariness. But something held the tears back. Something pushed her onward and upward, when all hope seemed lost. The princess winced as a breath brushed against damaged ribs. She shut her eyes tight as she spread her wings. “Then stand by me!” She launched herself upward to meet her sister. Clover could only watch in silence as Celestia flew higher and higher, her wings dropping feathers with each flap. The alicorn princess poured magic into the Elements of Harmony as she drew near Luna, who looked down on her with a disdain bordering on disgust. The mare calling herself Nightmare Moon launched spell after spell, drawing power from the moon, but Celestia sidestepped them all. The Princess of the Day flew eye-to-eye with her sister. “Please, Luna. Please listen to me. You have to stand down.” “Never!” The words spoken came at her like a shower of knives. “Never in a thousand years, Celestia! I will have what is mine! I will have the Eternal Night, the Noontide Moon!” “Luna, please!” Celestia lifted the Elements between her and her sister. She poured more and more magic into them as blood poured freely from a gash in her side. “Do not make me do this. Not to you!” “You foal!” Nightmare Moon spat. “You cannot use the Elements alone! One person cannot achieve harmony!” “I’m not alone, Luna.” Celestia looked her sister right in her wild, draconic eyes. “I am here. I am right beside my best friend in the whole world.” For one moment, Luna’s expression weakened. The solid iron became soft and regretful. A touch of light returned to a heart shrouded in darkness. Then, she refocused, hardening her face and her heart, gnashing her teeth and lighting her horn with a spell that would have burned a hole through a mountain. The Elements of Harmony blazed with unknowable power. The spell shot forward, speeding unimpeded towards the moon. The light was blinding to the naked eye. The magic was indecipherable to even the most learned of minds. The shriek of Nightmare Moon faded moment by moment as she was dragged away, left powerless and imprisoned in the depths of the night sky. The sixth Element of Harmony crumbled to dust. The other five lost their color and luster, fading to a dull gray in Celestia’s grip. The Princess of the Day released her hold and allowed the relics to sink to the floor, reduced to powerless stones. Then, Celestia lit her horn and commanded the moon to sink below the horizon, its surface now scarred with the visage of the horrific Nightmare Moon. At long last, Celestia collapsed, weeping and shaking as the reality of what she’d just done came crashing down on her shoulders. Clover looked on in awe. Absolute dumbstruck awe. What she had just witnessed was beyond unprecedented; it was impossible. No person, in the history of the world, had ever used the six Elements of Harmony single-handedly. Even when other Bearers had attempted to seize the power for themselves, the Elements had simply refused to function. Smart Cookie ran up to the collapsed Celestia and threw her arms around her neck. “Celestia! Can you hear me? Please, say something.” Celestia said nothing. Her throat was constricting with sobs and cries that cut Clover to the core. Clover the Clever walked up to the Elements of Harmony and their podium. She set the five remaining stones in their assigned places and peered closely at them. She sensed no magic in the Elements any more. They still retained the etched pathways and complex workings within their crystalline bodies, but the power, the soul, had been drained away. She looked to the horizon. Perhaps the magic was sealing Luna in the moon? She shook her head; it was not time to consider the usability of the Elements, it was time to decide what to do in the wake of the battle. The town of Fort Everfree lay in ruins. More than that, the Everfree Forest that surrounded the ruined walls had soaked up the residual energy of the fight. The already-dangerous forest was growing, morphing, changing into something unfamiliar. They needed to flee. “Celestia,” she whispered to herself, sending the powerless Elements back into their hiding place in the floor, “Equestria needs you now more than ever.” She held her head high and tucked her journal into the dark folds of her robe. She spoke in a louder voice to be heard over the aftershocks of Celestia’s weeping. “We need to get our little ponies to safety. There is a small mining village on Canter Mountain called Canterlot. They will have food and shelter if we ask for it.” Smart Cookie looked up from rubbing Celestia’s back. Her face looked like death itself. “What happened to the Elements? Were they destroyed?” “No. They are sleeping. Until the day when Equestria needs them once again.” Clover bit her lip. She wasn’t sure if she was telling the truth, but Cookie didn’t need to know that. “Until the day friendship conquers all.” She lowered her head and rested a hoof on Celestia’s shoulder. “Princess… you are our guiding light. The ponies will look to a strong leader to show them the way forward.” Smart Cookie lowered her eyebrows, squinting in that shrewd, calculating way of hers. Clover’s deception was noticed. Still, she must have decided to let it slide, by the way she returned her attention to Celestia. “Come, Princess. We shall get you to a doctor.” Celestia slowly, achingly got to her hooves. “There is no time. Help me lead the people to the mountain.” She clasped a wing tight against the wound in her side. “Please. Hurry.” Clover the Clever took a moment to survey the castle while Cookie and Celestia headed for the town square. Fire consumed wood and cloth as the town itself fell to ruin before her eyes. Equestria would be forever changed after this day. It would survive, but it would never again be the peaceful kingdom guided by two princesses and their loyal advisors. The ties between them had been tested, and shown to be frayed. Moshe the Hippogriff landed in a bundle of feathers and excitement. He bowed before Celestia as a touch of hope entered his voice. “The people saw what you did, Princess! They saw you save us all!” Clover the Clever held her tongue. It would be argued, many times in the future, that Celestia had caused much of the damage just by fighting back. And yet, how much destruction would Luna have wrecked across the entire world? Simply by preventing the sunrise? Perhaps it was more fruitful to focus on that one success than the failure they all shared. She lingered in the throne room as the other three ran to their next task. She held her Journal of the Elements close to her body, hidden in the folds of her cloak. There would be no need for a search; the Elements of Harmony would reside at the castle until the next generation of heroes was called. Despite everything, Celestia had saved Equestria. Their kingdom had held on to that last thread of existence, that last chance at life. The Tree of Harmony had not been destroyed, and the Elements had been sealed away. There would be no tyrannical reign of Nightmare Moon. There would be no mad scramble for a small remnant to retrieve the reborn Elements. There would only be… life. Clover’s ear twitched as she saw the Unseelie Prince Jeuk out of the corner of her eye. He gazed up at the sky, his expression somewhat forlorn. “It seems, Jeuk,” Clover said slowly, “that despite everything, you lose. Celestia yet lives. Equestria yet lives. And your champion has been banished by the very Elements you sought to grasp.” The vague wistfulness in his face melted to a chilling, seething frown. “So it would seem, to the blind mare’s eye.” He offered her a falsified smile and favored her with a mocking salute. “See you in Hell, dear Clover.” With that, he vanished into smoke. Bloodrock Canyon Borderland between Felaccia (Griffon Kingdom) and the Lowlands (Zebra Territory) Beginning of Summer, Year 500 CE Andean Ursagryph sat in his tent sharpening his sword. He was a young griffon, just having reached his twenties. Even so, he was a powerful warrior, strong of limb and mighty with a blade. His family line—that of the Ursagryphs—resembled a combination of a condor and a grizzly bear, with the relative size to match. This resulted in increased strength and stamina over other griffon families. Long life was another gift. Some of their elders lived upwards of a thousand years without losing their vitality. The head of Andean’s family had recently celebrated his six-hundredth birthday. To any other people, in any other world, at any other time, these gifts would be a boon. To Andean Ursagryph, it only put a target on his back. He peered out the front flap of his tent. His dwelling was one of hundreds. His sword was one of thousands. The Felaccian army was gearing up for a war. One that would be bloody, long-fought, and wretched to the core. He turned his gaze to the top of the canyon, where the largest tent of all sat. It was made from royal purple cloth, trimmed with gold. Inside, Andean knew, was the King of the Griffons: Berkut, head of the Paw Family. He and his closest advisors met within to discuss the upcoming campaign. No doubt, he was filling their minds with the riches their conquest would bring, as well as the fertile land they would soon divvy up. Andean grunted as the whetstone struck his blade wrong. He examined the sword for damage and was satisfied to see that it was minimal, able to be corrected with a few swift strokes. He lowered the blade and found he was no longer alone in his tent. The newcomer was a griffon of the Tigris family, his rear end a bright, striped orange. His face resembled that of an owl, with large eyes capable of seeing things others might overlook. Andean bowed to the griffon. “Lord Bubo. It is an honor.” “Save the pleasantries, Andean.” Bubo Tigris unlashed the tent flap and let it hang loose to conceal their meeting ever-so-slightly, just enough that a passing griffon wouldn’t take notice. “I did not come to see you bow and scrape. I came because…” The old bird swiveled his head around several times, examining their surroundings. He turned back to Andean with a sharp look of certain doom. “I need your help.” Andean frowned. Lord Bubo was one of the most prominent members of griffon society; a leading member of the Council of Lords and head of the Tigris family. Andean was comparatively low in the pecking order; barely worthy of notice. “I don’t understand, my lord. How could I possibly help you?” “Andean, I am going to ask you something very dangerous…” Bubo Tigris sat down across from Andean and leaned close. “What are your honest thoughts on Berkut’s campaign? His plans to march against the zebras? Can you look me in the eye and tell me you see nothing wrong with this?” Andean lowered his voice to a harsh whisper. “Of course it’s madness. The Zebras have made no aggressive movements in all the years we’ve been neighbors. But what can I do? The Ursagryph family is already drawing Berkut’s ire just because of our natural genetic strength. If one of us were to step out of line, he would have the excuse he needs to see us all put to the sword. I’ll not be the reason my entire family is slaughtered.” Bubo Tigris steepled his talons, peering into what he could see of Andean’s soul. “I know you are no coward, Andean. You are perhaps the noblest among us. So I see that you do not comprehend the full extent of Berkut’s evil.” He reached into a pouch on his side and pulled a small glass ball from the shadows. He held it out to Andean, who took it gingerly in his massive claw. “Peer into the Cats Eye, as far as you can see. Its enchantment will reveal something only Berkut’s inner circle knows.” For all appearances, the trinket was a simple glass marble. But a sharper eye noticed that the colors within the bauble shifted. Closer examination revealed that the colors had shape, form, meaning. Familiar faces appeared out of the murk. Griffons arrayed around a table. Fine clothing and legendary weapons. A golden crown. The Cats Eye revealed Berkut himself, meeting with his inner circle of yes-men and lackies. “If you focus,” Bubo said quietly. “You shall hear their voices.” It was fuzzy at first, muffled by magic and distance. Eventually, distinct words took form from the depths of the orb. Berkut’s deep voice commanded respect and attention. It was intoxicating with the sheer depth of charisma it possessed. “Is this… current?” Andean asked. “What you see is happening as we speak.” “And so we will move forward continuously, never stopping as we grind the enemy to dust.” Berkut pointed to a map on the table, which depicted Felaccia and the surrounding territories. “We have the resources to march in three alternating groups, falling over them like ocean waves. As one group overtakes a territory, the others shall move to their next target.” “But is it sustainable, my lord king?” one of the lords asked. “Even a flock of Ursagryphs would tire after such an endless battle.” “Which is why we have them separated.” Berkut clenched a talon, resting it against the part of the map labeled “Giraffrica.” “Once a territory is taken, the army will take the opportunity to rest, resupply, and regroup. After which, they can move on to their next assignment.” “Is there to be no occupying force, my lord king?” Berkut turned to the questioning griffon with narrowed, hunting eyes. “What would be left to occupy? We are on a mission to remove our enemies from the face of the earth.” Andean jerked his head back. Remove them? Completely? Annihilation down to the soil? That wasn’t war. It didn’t even seem political in nature. It was extermination of a peaceful neighbor. What depths had Berkut sunk to? “Your eyes cry out. You have seen it.” Bubo looked at the faraway tent through a gap in the entrance. Though it seemed nigh impossible, his gaze grew all the more intense as he glared at his king. “He is not here for glory or honor or riches. His motivation is hatred of another kind, down to the last zebra. But there is more. Take a glance at the map on the table. Note what has been marked.” Andean did so with a quickening pulse. Yes, he understood immediately. The Zebra lands of Giraffrica were marked, but so too were the neighboring Sapient lands. The Giraffes, Saddle Arabia, the minotaur kingdom, even some places across the sea where the mysterious ponies lived. If Berkut’s campaign extended to such far-reaching lands, either the griffon army would be wiped out, or they would destroy all other life. “I… understand…” Andean’s stomach churned as he lowered the Cats Eye and held it loose in the palm of his talon. “The lives at stake are… they are far too great for us to comprehend. Even the Ursagryph Family would be a noble sacrifice if it meant all others could live.” “You have spoken truly, though I am loath to say it.” Bubo lowered his voice to a harsh whisper and leaned close to the hulking Andean. “That is why I ask you, please, challenge King Berkut for the crown.” Andean Ursagryph’s expression faded to a blank, numbed stupor. Had he heard Bubo right? Challenge the king in single combat? For the kingship itself? No, he couldn’t be serious. “Who am I? Who am I to challenge Berkut for such a thing? He would never accept a duel with one of the lower classes.” “That is not his decision.” Bubo Tigris held up a clenched talon with its back to Andean. He used a claw to point to the blue ring he wore. Etched writing ran around the perimeter of the ring; ancient griffon script. “The laws of our kingdom are clear. Any griffon may challenge any other griffon to single combat. The winner has the right to claim the loser’s title. This extends to the king. According to our most ancient laws, he must obey.” “There is a reason griffons aren’t lining up to compete for the crown.” Andean jabbed a talon towards Bubo’s heart. “The king is the greatest warrior among us. He has never been defeated. Especially not since he had that sword forged.” Berkut’s personal blade, the broadsword Euroclydon, was a masterwork of griffon craftsmanship. A blade that resized itself to suit the wielder. A pommel stone storing the energy of an entire storm. The ability to strike from a distance with powerful lightning. “He will use it in the duel,” Andean said. “It is his right. I, the least among the Ursagryphs, have nothing that can hold him back. Why me, Bubo? What right have I to be challenged with such a task?” He shook his head, holding empty talons outward. “What right do I have to think myself king?” Bubo sighed deep within his chest. He reached out a talon to lay on Andean’s shoulder. “Andean, I—” Magic filled the air with an ear-splitting shriek of power. The sky lit up like a noon sun over a desert wasteland. As embers drifted to the ground and the dazzle left his eyes, Andean saw a white-coated pony fly through the air. To his astonishment, she had both a set of wings and a unicorn’s horn. He brushed past Bubo and stared up at the sky as the pony flew towards the tent. “Lord Tigris… is that—?” “Princess Celestia of Equestria,” Bubo said, his forehead furrowing. “Yes, I had heard rumblings that she would be visiting to negotiate peace.” He grimaced as she entered the king’s tent. “Knowing Berkut, she would have more luck attempting to lift a mountain.” Andean hefted the Cats Eye in his talon. He hummed to himself and returned to the cushion he’d been seated on before. He stared intently at the bauble until he could see the interior of Berkut’s inner circle once more. There was the princess herself; an alicorn, if Andean recalled the categorization correctly. She was astonishingly beautiful even by griffon standards, with both a multicolored ethereal mane and a coat that shimmered like the most precious of metals. He expected Berkut to be annoyed, but the king was in good spirits. He raised a wing to the princess and spoke with a strange, braying language. “Hyuoo hwmph, Heeeheee Brrr!” “I will speak in the griffon tongue,” Princess Celestia replied. “I am quite comfortable with it. I was taught by your ancestors.” “Not my ancestors, Princess Celestia.” King Berkut folded his wings against his back and took a seat in his ornate chair. He gestured to the far side of the table, where a seat waited for her. “Rather, you were taught by Gregor and his cowardly Griffonstone refugees, who fled their homeland rather than face the Demon King Tirek head-on.” He turned his head to one side so that one wide-set eye could look at her straight-on. “But even so, your grasp of the language is adequate.” “I appreciate the compliment.” Celestia’s voice darkened a few shades. Andean felt a chill run down his spine at her commanding presence. It seemed she was not intimidated by the griffon king; not out of foolhardiness, but out of a confidence that she was in no danger. “Regardless, I think you underestimate the struggles Gregor and his people underwent to merely survive.” Berkut smiled. “Not at all, Princess.” He leaned his forelegs across the table and drummed his clawtips. “Now then, to what do we owe the honor of a visit from the esteemed country of Equestria?” “I should think that was obvious.” Princess Celestia pointed her horn at the map. Andean’s angle couldn’t quite see where she was focused, but it didn’t take a tactical genius to guess. “Equestria is allied with the Zebras. Since you have neglected to meet with their envoys…” Her jaw hardened. “Since you have slain the ambassadors sent to you, I have come to intervene as best I can.” “Alone, no less!” Berkut laughed once in the back of his throat. “What can you possibly tell me that I have not already heard, Princess? We griffons have hidden ourselves away in the canyons of Felaccia for far too long. It is our time to step into the sun and become a viable world-power. You see my army. Have you seen any like it in all the lands you’ve traveled?” Celestia’s voice radiated pure dismissiveness. “It is quite impressive.” “We have the greatest tacticians, the most advanced weaponry, the most eager warriors.” He cracked his knuckles and laid a talon on the hilt of his sword. “You must realize my end goal is world domination, and nothing less shall satisfy me. Your armies, on the other hand, are meager. Your troops underprepared. You hope to stop me at Giraffrica, but even if all of you united against me, you would do nothing but hasten your demise.” Celestia’s ears lay flat against her head. She spoke slowly. Carefully. “There is nothing that can dissuade you from taking this action? There is no hope of turning aside your wrath against the other species of this world?” “My lady, the other species are the reason I’ve begun my campaign. You can thank you beloved Gregor for that.” Berkut drew Euroclydon from his belt and hefted it. He did not menace Celestia directly, but the blade wavered closer and closer to her neck. “In truth, most peoples will serve effectively as slaves, but your Gregor of Griffonstone committed the unspeakable act…” He growled, his sword pointed at the center of her chest. “He mated with a pony, and created the abominable race of the Hippogryphs. I believe the cursed offspring was named Moshe?” Andean Ursagryph was shaken out of his focus. The hippogryphs and griffons had, ironically enough, never been close politically or geographically… but still, they were, at the core, brother species. The common link between ponies and griffons. The biological proof that the two peoples were not so different. Many griffons considered them abominations, but that was just a symptom of ignorance. To think that the Felaccian king, the lord of their nation, was so given to such thinking… That settled it. Whatever misgivings Andean had about facing him head-on, at least now he had no moral objections. Perhaps righteousness would win the day. He turned to Bubo to tell him as much, but the griffon lord’s focus was not on Andean, but the sky itself. “My lord?” Andean followed his eyes. The sun was high in the sky, much higher than the time of day would suggest. The air burned exceedingly hot. The glare of light caused Andean to cover his eyes with his foreleg. He looked back down at the Cats Eye and returned his sights to the king’s tent. Berkut was still rambling about hippogryphs and other hybrids, cleansing the bloodline, and other such drivel. Celestia was focused directly on the king, her horn sparkling with an energy similar to the flash she had arrived in. Andean began to wonder if a direct fight would spark between the two of them. For Celestia to have come alone, she must have had a burning fire in her heart. The sort that would not lessen until justice had been meted out. She must also be a cunning warrior. That, or she was a fool who would soon be pointlessly slain by an evil king. “Oh Great Creator, the one with Lightning in His Wings…” Bubo Tigris’ voice was hushed. Awed. Terrified. “The stories are true.” Andean clenched the Cats Eye tight in one hand and gripped his sword in the other. “Would that we were in the tent now. Would that we could assist her in fighting Berkut!” “Andean, you thoughtless child,” Bubo whispered. “An alicorn needs no help against a mortal.” Andean snapped towards Bubo with a slacked jaw. The insult had seemingly come from nowhere, but it still struck deep. “My lord, please forgive me. I know not what you—” With that, no more words could be heard. All sound was swallowed up in a thunderous roar of flame as a pillar of fire descended from the sun and struck the king’s tent. The explosion of hot air that rushed across the camp knocked over tents and cooking pots. Extinguished campfires while igniting cloth. Bowled over every standing griffon and brought every resting soldier to readiness. They all watched in horror as the canyon wall melted like candlewax beneath the torrent of sunlight. The molten rock cooled. The wind died down. The smoke cleared. Princess Celestia of Equestria flew down from the epicenter of the blast and landed in the center of the camp. All eyes watched her, unsure of what to do. A few gutsy griffons gripped their weapons, but none dared approach her. After a long, long moment, she spoke in a magically-amplified voice. “People of Felaccia, this war is over before it begins. Your king, Berkut, planned to raze the world to the ground to fulfil a selfish desire for control. He planned to extinguish entire species in the name of the new Griffon Empire. I want you to know that this is not acceptable!” She turned as she talked, her eyes roaming around the campsite. When her gaze hovered around Andean, he felt her eyes alight on him and cause the feathers on his neck to bristle. His heart thundered at the sheer magnitude of what he had seen, and the knowledge that it could happen again in an instant. “There will be no war while I raise the sun and moon. I will not stand aside and watch Felaccia or any other kingdom wage an unjust, murderous rampage against anyone! If we are to survive, we must work together. We must accept each other. We must respect each other.” She lifted a sword in her telekinetic grip. A closer inspection revealed it to be Berkut’s sword; Euroclydon. “I promise you, if the next King of Felaccia follows in the footsteps of Berkut, then he shall meet the same fate as Berkut! By my horn!” She stabbed Euroclydon into the earth and embedded it halfway up its blade. Its ruby-red pommel stone glinted in the light of the sun. “I understand that your kings are chosen by rite of combat.” Celestia folded her wings across her back and gave the crowd of griffons one last piercing stare. “I pray your strongest is also the wisest.” She vanished in a cloud of sparks. A hush fell over the assembly. All griffons stared at the sword; a symbol of the status of king. All griffons felt their hearts race as it slowly, surely dawned on them that it was ripe for the taking. A low rumble spread through the ranks as they stood, spreading their wings and gripping their weapons. Andean saw it as if in slow motion. He saw the bloodlust in the eyes of the griffons around him; predators prepared to pounce. His eyes shot to the sword and widened at the realization of what he was about to witness. The griffon army surged forward as one, clawing and tearing itself to pieces. The violence was worse than any battle Andean had ever experienced. There were no sides to take. There were no rules of engagement. No honor was sought. There was only a singular goal and the individual’s drive to see it through. The mass of warriors swarmed like a hurricane around the focal point of Euroclydon, the bodies piling up around the eye of the storm. The sight cut deep into Andean’s heart. He supposed it was poetic justice in a way, that the griffons would experience the same terror that they would have visited on their victims. But poetic justice was not true justice, not to him. The griffons responsible for the campaign were already dead, atomized and left in a crater. These griffons had no say in the war. They had no idea what Berkut was planning. They didn’t even know how to chose the next king. They were in a frenzy that would only end with their deaths… Unless Andean did something. He spread his massive wings and took off at a dead run towards the sword, knocking aside smaller griffons but not turning his weapon to them. Once he had gotten enough speed, the wind beneath his wings lifted him from the ground. With a mighty flap, he soared above the army. He had to be precise, or he would be caught up in the melee and swiftly killed. There, among the blood and feathers, was a direct pathway to the sword itself. He had no idea what he would do once he got the sword. He just knew that this could not continue. He folded his wings against his body and shot through the sky like an arrow. He released his sword and let it fall harmlessly on the outskirts of the camp. He stretched his forelegs towards the sword. He felt a glimmer of magic in that moment. It was as if the sword called out to him. As if it welcomed its new wielder. As if he and the sword were connected at the heart. He pushed through the bodies and grasped the hilt with both talons. He pulled with all his might, and the movement of the blade against the stone sent lightning and fire bursting from the ground. He let loose with a mighty roar as he hoisted Euroclydon above his head. The other griffons ceased fighting each other and instead set their sights on him. Each one was still eager to claim ownership of the sword. Each one thought himself the next king. Each one would die before allowing any other to grasp it. Andean Ursagryph would not allow that to happen. He released a burst of magic from the sword that surrounded him in a whirlwind. The winds carried the griffon army back, tearing the weapons from their talons. He struck the canyon walls with lightning and sent fragments of stone and slate raining upon the stragglers. The thundering storm drowned out the fervor of battle until all present were quieted. Until all eyes turned to the massive griffon with the powerful sword. “Enough!” Andean shouted at the top of his lungs. His voice boomed off the canyon walls, reaching every ear. “Look at yourselves! Look at your brothers that lie dead by your hand! The griffons felled by their own blood! My people, this thing should not be in Felaccia!” He looked down at the bodies that had fought for kingship and lost. Too many faces belonged to friends and comrades. He glared at the living with a fire like the light of the sun. “Is the mighty griffon army to be reduced to squabbling bandits? Are the fathers and sons of Felaccia to be slain for fool’s gold while our families mourn? We were already complicit in an unjust war, must we also be complicit in self-assured destruction? Enough is enough!” Bubo knelt down to cradle a fallen griffon in his talons, his ears lowered and his eyes brimming with tears he could not shed in public. Andean recognized him as Bubo’s eldest son. Andean turned slowly, taking in the griffons who wavered between listening intently and preparing their weapons to strike. “Perhaps Princess Celestia intended for us to destroy ourselves, like a starving dog eating its own entrails! But we are no dogs! We are griffons! We fight for what we know to be right! We stand up against the weakness that threatens to tear us apart! We stood against Tirek and drove him off! We survived the Changeling invasion! We lived free from the tyranny of Discord! And again, today, we tear away from the evil reign of Berkut!” The murmur from the crowd rumbled, and Andean retorted by lighting the sky with a strike from the sword. “Each victory has come from the griffons alone! Alone! Will we allow Celestia to turn the tides of our history? Never! We are capable of so much more than conquest, my people! We are capable of changing the world for the better!” He spread his broad wings to their full span, shadowing the griffons who stood directly in front of him. “So what shall it be? Will you live as Berkut did and become consumed by your ambitions? Will you live as Celestia wishes and devour each other? Or will you join me in restoring strength to the griffon kingdom? To changing Felaccia for the better! To create a nation that others look to as a shining example, that we can be proud of! Who’s with me?” Many voices joined in the resulting cheer. Enough so that others soon added their support. Before long, the entire canyon showed their support, both true and feigned. Many of the people would fight him, Andean knew. Many of Berkut’s supporters would make a nuisance of themselves in the following years, threatening their way of life with the former king’s mad dreams of destruction. But if just enough people supported Andean, if just enough griffons thought as he did and sought true justice… Felaccia could recover. It would recover. As Andean swayed the griffons with words and feats of strength, Princeling Jeuk looked on. He patted the pile of ashes that had once been Berkut’s body and chuckled softly to himself. As the wind carried the wicked king’s remains away, so too did Jeuk vanish into dust. Edge of the Everfree Forest Outskirts of Ponyville, Equestria Early Spring, Year 992 CE Princeling Jeuk of the Unseelie Court hovered above a lush portion of the Everfree Forest. He lightly touched down on a tree branch hanging over a river which was flooded with melted snow. The normally-clear rushing water was roiling with fallen branches and rocks. This time of year was when the river was at its most dangerous. He looked a few meters upstream and saw a natural bridge made from a single fallen tree. It was embedded into the banks and dry; seemingly safe as could be. The branch beside his shivered as a ghastly presence descended upon it. It was another fairy; one of his underlings. It took the appearance of a decayed pony, wearing a long, ratty black coat over a shriveled ribcage. His wide-brimmed hat hung low over empty eye sockets. A tattered noose hung around his neck to hint at his preferred method of extinguishing a victim’s consciousness. “Princeling Jeuk… or, should I call you ‘Master’?” “‘Jeuk’ should suffice for now, Merimna.” Jeuk adjusted his blood-red tie and tucked it neatly behind his black suit jacket. He adjusted his boater hat to sit neatly between his ears. He did not intend to show himself to a mortal any time soon, but one could never be too careful. He had to keep up appearances… and throw off the scent of any who might discern his true purposes. “Your affectionate Uncle Jeuk. We are, after all, closer than most fairies. A fact for which you are most grateful.” Seeing a fairy with such a grotesque appearance shuffle his hooves nervously was a special treat for Jeuk. Merimna often lived up to his name. “Yes, Jeuk. Most grateful.” “And so today I have prepared a lesson. One that will both further our ambitions and educate you in the ways of mortals.” Jeuk’s ear perked up as undergrowth crackled. His victims were nearing the glade. “Observe.” The mortals in question were both young ponies; a filly and a colt, eight years of age. The colt was a tan earth pony who had yet to discover his cutie mark. The filly was a yellow-coated pegasus with three pink butterflies on her flank. The colt trailed after his friend, who charged forward with open wings. “Fluttershy! Fluttershy, wait up!” “Come on, Happy!” Fluttershy paused at the log bridge over the river. She looked over her shoulder with an enormous grin. “The manticore cubs should be just over the ridge! I know it!” “Okay, but we need to stick together.” Happy put a strong hoof on the bridge to check if it could hold their weight. Satisfied that it didn’t budge, he trotted across without a care in the world. “We need to be back before dark, or Miss Amber will worry.” “We’ll only be an hour.” Fluttershy’s head swiveled this way and that, taking in the wonderful sights and smells that nature offered her. “I just can’t wait to see the little manticores. They’re rather docile creatures, you know, even if they are big.” The voices of the two friends tailed off as they made their way through the outskirts of the Everfree Forest. Jeuk turned to Merimna and raised an eyebrow. “Now then, do you know who these two are?” Merimna tapped his exposed teeth together. A hiss like a final breath exhaled from the paper-thin skin of his throat. “That girl… she is one of the Six…” “Very good, Merimna.” Jeuk lifted his hoof to observe the fire ant crawling through his grey coat. The small creature stared directly at him, bound to his will by a single thought. “Fluttershy has just moved to Ponyville from Cloudsdale, having discovered that her cutie mark is related to caring for wildlife. She currently lives with the family of a particular therapist named Merry Mare.” Jeuk tilted his ear in the direction the two children went. “The mother of the colt you just saw.” Merimna looked in the indicated direction, though there was nothing to see. “So what do you intend for these mortals?” Jeuk’s smile lacked mirth entirely. “Why, I intend to murder Fluttershy, of course.” Merimna tilted his head slightly to the side. A flake of skin drifted down from beneath his hat, but vanished before it touched the ground. It was not corporeal, after all. “I admit, Jeuk, I am confused. It was my understanding that if one of the bearers fell, another would take their place. Especially due to the fact that it is still eight years until the return of Nightmare Moon. That is plenty of time for a new Bearer of Kindness to rise up.” “That is correct, in its own way.” Jeuk shut his eyes and tilted his head towards Merimna. He decided to see how far his underling—his protégé—could devise a strategy. “Is there anything else amiss?” Merimna thought for a moment, his eye sockets gazing at the roaring river beneath them. “Fluttershy is truly innocent. A light to those around her. She is, above all else, protected by the Seelie Court. If she should perish today, they would no doubt whisk her spirit away to their courts, leaving us no soul to harvest. So long as she remains protected by the Seelie, her death would not benefit us in any way.” “Normally, I would agree with you, dearest Merimna.” Jeuk set his hoof down and allowed the fire ant to rejoin its comrades on their infinite search for food in the forest. “You are, no doubt, thinking back to the deaths of Bright Mac and Buttercup?” “More to the point… Jeuk.” Merimna touched the noose around his neck, finding some small comfort in fiddling with it. “I recall the punishment leveled against the two Fae who killed them.” Jeuk falsified an expression of surprise on his face, hoping to give Merimna the impression that he wanted the lesser fairy to feel more secure… while offering no real relief. “Ah, yes, I remember now. Eternal banishment in the Abyss. The featureless void for which all are destined. We wouldn’t want to end up there, would we?” “No, Mast—Jeuk.” “Their foolish venture was to bring misery and pain to Applejack’s life. And yet, in the end, all they’ve done is strengthened Applejack’s convictions.” Jeuk pointed a hoof at Merimna’s chest. “Mark my words, her honest streak will grow and grow, until the very thought of a falsehood is a dire grievance to her. Moreover, Buttercup’s death has already greatly affected Grand Pear, one of our greatest success stories.” Jeuk couldn’t stop the very real, very painful growl from escaping his throat. Had he any blood, it would have boiled at the thought. “Now, his heart grows softer. In a matter of years—years, Merimna!—he will seek to make amends for his wrongdoing. And the Apples will accept him! The bonds of family we had so carefully broken will be mended.” A chill wind blew through the Everfree Forest, rustling Jeuk and Merimna’s clothing. Jeuk shuddered and pulled his suit jacket tighter. He was not a mortal; the temperature should not have affected him. And yet, not all cold was strictly physical. There was something magical at work in the forest. Something deeply spiritual, that only a spirit such as he would take note of. He decided it must have been his own doing. Talk of the future tended to shift the flow of magic around him. “Now then, how might we apply this lesson to Fluttershy?” Merimna’s gaping eye sockets perused the future crime scene. “It seems to me that if you feel confident despite all that… you must have a goal that outweighs the downside of losing Fluttershy’s soul to the Seelie Court.” “Very good, Merimna.” Jeuk’s eyebrows raised as the two children returned. The sun had begun to set, and hours had passed for the two children. An immortal’s perception of time was vastly different from a mortal’s. For Jeuk and his apprentice, it felt as though it had been but a moment. “Perhaps you recall that I mentioned Happy’s mother in Ponyville?” “Merry Mare?” Merimna would have frowned, had he any lips. “Yes, I recall.” “She is a future political figure, should I play my cards right.” Jeuk chuckled in a gigglesome manner. “And I have all the cards. You see, she has been dealing with anger issues her whole life. She tends to spark in an instant, and smolder long. It would take but a single tragedy to shift her life down a path from which there is no return.” He jutted his chin towards the children as they crossed the natural bridge. “She has placed Fluttershy in the care of Amber Waves, who even now is combing Ponyville for any sign of the brats. Should Fluttershy perish, it will no doubt lead Merry to resent—or even hate—Amber.” A fire ant crawled its way up Fluttershy’s leg. The poor filly was too excited to notice, chatting back and forth with Happy about the manticore cubs they’d just spent the day with. Jeuk directed the insect higher, towards a critical joint in the pegasus’ leg. “Her hatred would build,” Jeuk said, “until she finally finds reason to use the gift I’ve left in her care… You recall the gemstone?” “The one made by Adagio, I remember.” Merimna jerked his head to Jeuk. “You are sowing the seeds of a future Siren?” “Precisely.” Jeuk raised a hoof towards the fire ant. He jerked it to the side. “Watch!” The ant bit down and burst into flames. Fluttershy cried out as her leg failed her. She flapped her weak wings ineffectually—she hadn’t flown since moving to Ponyville. With her balance lost, the child fell into the rushing rapids, immediately sinking below the surface. Jeuk turned to Merimna with a satisfied smile of a job well done. “So now we wait for Merry to show her true face and slay Amber. Then, oho, then we have her forever!” “Master…” Jeuk followed Merimna’s pointed leg. An unbelievable sight greeted his eyes. Happy had thrown himself off the bridge. However, rather than sink like a rock as Fluttershy had, he was actually keeping his head above the roiling water. As Jeuk looked closer, he saw that the fool colt had Fluttershy gripped in a strong foreleg. “What!?” Jeuk snapped as fire blazed in his eyes. “He’s just a child! This is impossible!” Happy struggled against the undertow. He dragged himself and Fluttershy closer, closer, ever closer to the bank. He fought with all the breath in his lungs, and quite a bit more than that. Determination burned in his chest as his legs struggled to move. Jeuk sneered. His body morphed, taking on a form closer to his true self. His grey coat seared itself into wrinkled, charred black folds. His eyes lost all luster, becoming black pits with an ember burning in the center. His tie writhed and wriggled until it revealed itself to be a long, snaking tongue coming from a razor-toothed mouth. Two black-feathered wings spread over the river and carried him after the children, whose fate had already been sealed. Then he saw it. The enemy. Another fairy who had remained cloaked until that moment. She was a sparkling example of her species, her six wings flapping fervently to keep the two children aloft. Her entire body was covered in glistening gold eye spots, able to see hidden things that no mere mortal could understand. Jeuk’s eyes narrowed as he descended upon the Seelie Court’s warrior. He clawed at her with cloven hooves and bit her ears, pulling her away from the children. She was a powerful creature, but he was far stronger. Years of experience and an inborn strength, combined with his unfathomable rage, gave him the power needed to cast her away from her wards. He turned his long neck around to spot the children once more. To his dismay, even without the Seelie fae’s help, Happy was well able to carry Fluttershy towards the river bank. He cast his gaze around the forest, seeking another avenue of attack. He could not touch the children directly, but perhaps… There! A rotted branch hanging over the water. Filled with fire ants. He commanded the insects to chew all the faster. He commanded the wood to rot all the more deeply. The corruption spread in an instant. The connection grew weaker. Happy reached the bank. He shoved Fluttershy onto it, who was already coughing and vomiting as she struggled to pull air into her lungs. His hooves slipped, and he fell back into the river. He grasped the bank tightly, looking up at his friend. The rotted branch hit him in the side of the head with the force of a carriage crash. The colt vanished beneath the rapids. Fluttershy lay on the bank, dazed and confused and scared. She swiveled her head around, her eyes growing wider. “Happy? Happy! Happy, where are you? Happy!” Jeuk looked downriver. The Seelie Court’s fairy flew gently over the water, watching a particular spot closely. After a moment’s time, she reached one of her hooves down. When she came back up, she held a shimmering orb of life gently in her grip. She looked back at Jeuk, all of her thousands of eyes blazing with anger. Jeuk didn’t bother to examine the fae creature. She was nothing special. Perhaps she was not even a warrior but a mere psychopomp, sent to carry souls to the Seelie Court’s clutches. No, he focused on the bright, burning, blazing light in her forelegs. The soul of the young child, Happy. Even from a distance, he could see the joy and triumph that he felt having saved Fluttershy. He could see the sickly pink hue of love that emanated from the colt. How he hated that light. The same light that burned in all mortals. The same light that he would like nothing more than to extinguish. The wretched, loathsome, gormless joy of friendship and peace. The satisfaction that mortals felt from such drivel as spending time together, or speaking with each other, or working alongside each other. Simple minds deriving simple pleasure from simple things. “Fie!” He shouted at the Seelie Psychopomp. “Take your prize to Dreamland! I have what I came for! You can’t save Merry Mare! If she would be enraged at Fluttershy’s passing, how much more will she hate the one who neglected her son!” The fairy said nothing, instead vanishing into another world, where Happy would live out the rest of eternity as a brilliant star in the night sky. Jeuk hovered over Fluttershy, enshrouding her with his wings. He watched the eight-year-old filly slowly come to the realization of what happened, her tears flowing with utter agony. She ran from the forest towards home, carrying dreadful news with her. As he watched her go, Jeuk felt the future come into greater clarity. She would go through life with careful caution, fearful of hurting herself or others. Her kindness would be kept intact, but hampered by her own hang-ups. Panic attacks, anti-social tendencies, isolation—all could be cultivated if he pursued them. If he could just keep her away from anything that could heal the scar he’d torn in her heart. If he could just keep her and her friends apart. The Unseelie fairy alighted the branch beside Merimna, who wisely held his tongue. Jeuk returned to his equine form and tugged on his red tie. “Despite the Seelie Court’s intrusion, we can proceed with the greater part of our plan. The seeds are planted; we merely need to wait here for Merry Mare’s response.” Days passed as they waited patiently. The search party passed by below them, dredging the river for any sign of the young colt. It was the boy’s father who ended up finding him. His heart couldn’t take it. He would be left wandering the earth for many years until his life came to its tragic end. News spread throughout Ponyville that the Everfree Forest was cursed. That it was unsafe for any to enter. The funeral was held. The tears dried. The forest lay hushed. Jeuk felt a certain magic tingle on the tips of his ears. It was a magic he had not seen in many a year. Not since Starswirl the Bearded had banished the three Sirens—Adagio, Sonata, and Aria—to another world. It was mind-altering magic, generated by a sinister song and powered with an arcane gemstone cut by Adagio herself. It was a gemstone that had been left in Merry’s care a fairly recently, always tempting her, always waiting for her, always drawing her closer to it. At last, the time had come for her to use it. Jeuk peered into the trees as two mares approached: Merry Mare and Amber Waves. “Look closely Merimna. You are about to meet the future Mayor of Ponyville.” Merry was a tan-coated mare in her mid-forties. Her gray mane was in shambles as she led the other pony deeper into the forest, seeking the point where her son had fallen into the river. She continuously adjusted the glasses on her snout, even as she sang the enchanted, mind-altering song. Amber was the younger pony by a few years. She was a new mother. Her infant daughter had been left at home, and would be an orphan from this day onward. Her golden hair was darkened by leaves and branches, and her blue coat was smudged with dirt and bruises. Jeuk scowled as he saw the two approach the river. “I had hoped for Merry to become merely bitter. Her rage might just be out of control now. It will take some time to hone her into a blade, rather than a bludgeon.” Merry shoved Amber into the clearing. The entranced mare stumbled, unfocused and unaware. Amber’s ears perked up awaiting further instruction. Merry walked around her, the gemstone necklace glowing a brilliant yellow with every word she said. “We left him in your care!” Merry shouted. “You couldn’t watch him for an hour?” Amber’s muttered reply was hazy, distorted. “Baby crying… safe with Fluttershy…” “Don’t you dare say another word.” Merry looked down at the river, which had calmed down now that the melting snow was finally cleared away. She scanned the rest of the area, grinding her teeth as she sought a way to make her vengeance complete. Jeuk rustled the trees on one side of the clearing, drawing Merry’s eye. A small patch of blue flowers lay nestled beneath the tree. Poison Joke was a rarity across Equestria, but it grew in abundance in the magically-chaotic Everfree Forest. The soon-to-be Siren drew closer, her expression morphing into one of grim satisfaction. She opened her mouth, and magic flowed to Amber’s ears. “Forest dark and deep Realm of eternal sleep Pony that I hate Come down and meet your fate” Amber struggled to move in a straight line, drawn as she was by the Siren’s song. She lowered her head to the Poison Joke and bit into the dangerous flowers. “I think we’ve seen enough,” Jeuk said as he saw the Seelie Court’s psychopomp approach the scene. He flew through the air, unfettered by the physics that ruled the mortal realm. “Unfortunately, the interference by the Seelie Court has once again pushed back our timetable, but we are beings of eternity. I can wait.” Merimna watched for a moment longer, until Amber began to choke on the flowers that Merry fed her. He followed Jeuk upwards to their next destination. “Perhaps it is better this way, Master. With Fluttershy still alive and intended for the Element of Kindness, we can be sure to make her life one of misery. Then, perhaps her effectiveness with the Element will be reduced.” “I had thought the same thing, my dear nephew.” Jeuk looked to the distance and saw a particular mountain awaiting their arrival. “It is something to keep in mind for the other Bearers as well. Applejack in particular… her aversion to deceit could prove fruitful later in life.” With the speed of a lightning strike, he grasped Merimna around the neck and growled in his face. “If you call me ‘Master’ around the other fairies, I will personally chuck your unenviable corpse through the gates to the Abyss, are we clear?” Merimna shuddered beneath the gaze of the elder fairy. “As crystal, my lord… Jeuk…” “Yes, can’t have too many of them pick up on my little intricacies, can we?” Jeuk released him and adjusted the large hat on Merimna’s head. “Be a good little minion and report to the other Princelings, would you? We have a plan three millennia in the making, and we must keep up appearances.” “As you command.” Merimna bowed at the neck and flitted away like a scrap of paper on the wind. Jeuk chuckled as he watched the belabored fairy flee for his existence. He glanced up at the sky, where stars could be seen peeking out through the clouds. “Alright then, Lord of the Seelie Court of Fae… let’s see you wriggle your precious mortals out of this one.” Chrysalis the Tyrant’s Catacombs The Badlands, South of Equestria Autumn, Year 1005 CE Ocellus cowered down in the little cage made for her by the other changelings. Many of her people—members of Thorax’s kingdom—also lay in cages around the catacombs. However, she had been singled out as especially heinous to Queen Chrysalis. She had been placed on the same level as King Thorax or Pharynx, a high traitor to changeling kind. She had committed the crime of befriending her prey. Chrysalis had come like a tidal wave. She had spent the last several years gathering the scattered changelings around the world and training them to be an army able to rival Thorax’s kingdom. The peace-minded changelings had been caught off-guard, but Pharynx had an escape route planned. Unfortunately for Ocellus, she had been caught while helping younger changelings escape. So it was that she found herself imprisoned in the very caverns she once called home. The echoes of struggle reverberated throughout the tunnels as the Changeling Civil War continued, as it had for several weeks by that point. She longed to break free from her cage, to help who needed help, but didn’t have the strength or magical acumen to do either. “Public execution. Yes, I think that shall do nicely.” Chrysalis the Tyrant, Queen of the Rogue Changelings, tapped Ocellus’ cage like a child with a fish bowl. “Perhaps I’ll see you starved of love until you revert to your true form. That of a black, hole-studded carapace baking in the sun. Th other changelings can throw rocks as well. Wretched little creature. ” Ocellus buried her head in her forelegs. Her translucent wings shivered at her sides as the oppressive queen laughed over her former subject. Even so, she found she had the spirit to bite back at the queen. “This is my true form, Chrysalis! You are starving your subjects! Thorax taught us—” “Silence your hideously-neon tongue.” Chrysalis waved a dismissive, hole-studded hoof. “I have a war to wage. Come, Commander Bugly.” The queen was followed by a battle-hardened changeling warrior, who was missing an eye and most of his ears. “And you, Mandible! Keep up or I’ll feast on your entrails.” Mandible was a small changeling, around Ocellus’ age. He barely came up to Bugly’s knee when standing tall, and he spent most of his time hunched down. He shuffled after his queen and commander, his legs barely moving apart, as if he was afraid of making noise. Most changelings with his demeanor had been slain by Chrysalis in the pursuit of a strong army with no weak links. Mandible had survived for one purpose: The caretaking of a small child. Ocellus had been surprised to see the child at all. In recent years, the species had edged towards sterility. The only changelings capable of rearing young had been queens, and Chrysalis was the last. She didn’t seem the motherly type. And yet, here was a five-year-old, having been born soon after the failed Siege of Canterlot. The little changeling filly was sickly, holes having already appeared on the ends of her legs. Her mane and wings, though, showed themselves to be a lovely blue hue, a vast departure from Chrysalis’ pale green. Moreover, the sad child’s blue eyes glistened with fearful tears. She had known nothing but sadness and violence her entire life. Ocellus’ heart went out to the girl. No child deserved a mother as wicked and callous as Chrysalis. While she looked at the child, she caught Mandible looking at her. She saw a similarity between the child and her nurse. Sad eyes. Weary souls. If she tasted the air, beyond Chrysalis’ self-aggrandizing rage, she could sense a deep-rooted sadness as the changeling species slowly realized they had backed the wrong horse. “Mandible!” The young stallion trotted after his queen, carrying the princess on his back. His horn glinted ever-so-slightly. A spark of magic drifted back unseen by the queen or her servants. It hovered before Ocellus’ face for a moment, begging for her permission. She touched it, and a thought flooded into her head. ‘Can you save us?’ She let her head droop, not daring to look at the beleaguered changeling who sent the message. She could not, of course. Maybe Thorax and his friends could. Or Princess Celestia and the Bearers of the Elements. But she was no hero. She had been no warrior when she followed Chrysalis, and she had grown no stronger beneath the guiding hoof of Thorax. She was well and truly a load on all around her. There was nothing to do but await her fate in the quiet, dark catacomb. Hours passed like that. Ocellus felt herself growing weaker, her reserves of love having long been tapped. Whatever emotions she could feast on within the dungeon were sour with resentment and bitter with anger. It was a taste she had left behind. It was a flavor she had rejected since joining Thorax’s kingdom. She took some solace in the fact that she would rather starve than return to the ways she had once known. At least she could be assured of the fact that she—and all the changelings—could indeed change. For the better. “Ocellus…” came the whispered voice. “Ocellus, are you there?” She opened her eyes. The voice was familiar, but she had never heard it with her ears before. Only with her heart. “Are you Mandible?” The short, nervous changeling in question stepped out of the shadows. He was sporting a new dent in his carapace, courtesy of his queen. “Please… d-don’t be alarmed. I… I wanted t-to see you. Not… not hurt you.” She didn’t even have to taste his emotions to know he was sincere. Her lessons interacting with species outside the changelings had taught her a thing or two about body language. She approached the bars of her cell and rested her forelegs against them. “Hi. It’s nice to meet you.” “It—it is?” Mandible’s face twisted into a confused frown. “W-why? I—I’m not very nice to know.” “It’s always nice meeting new people.” Ocellus glanced up at the cold, damp ceiling. “Even if the circumstances could be better.” Mandible’s multifaceted eyes looked her up and down, as if he had never seen another living being before. “Y—you’re different from the changelings in… in here. I’ve n-never seen a changeling with s-so vibrant a carapace. Is…” He shuddered and shut his eyes tight. “The rumors are t-true, aren’t they? Thorax’s t-tribe found a way to make it so we don’t have to st-teal love anymore.” “That’s right.” Ocellus smiled at Mandible with as reassuring an expression as she could manage. “Chrysalis is a either a liar or she doesn’t understand. We never needed to steal love. We can share it.” “B-but how?” Mandible shook his head, his ears twitching as he listened for any sign of the guards. “I d-d-don’t understand.” Ocellus sighed and sat down. “If we can ever get out of here, I’d teach you all about it. But I don’t think Chrysalis will let us have friendship lessons down here.” As if her words had summoned them, a trio of guards marched into the room. They surrounded Mandible and her cage, all glaring daggers at the two young changelings. The biggest one slapped Mandible on the side of his horn. “The queen doesn’t like anybody fraternizing with her prisoners, Mandible. You know that. Puts weird ideas in your head.” Mandible nursed his battered horn with a whimper. “Sorry, Kickback.” The second of the three, Shrapnel, chuckled as he tugged the young changeling away from the bars. “Aw, you’re sweet on her, ain’tcha? You have holes in your brains! Changelings don’t love. They take!” “I’ve never known love,” Bombshell, the third of them, said, “that wasn’t just lust personified.” Ocellus glared at him with a look that she knew was nothing more than posturing. “If you think that’s all love is, you’ve never known love at all!” “Pretty words from a pretty face.” Kickback smiled at his fellow changeling thugs. “Maybe we oughta tell Chrysalis she tried to escape.” Mandible struggled in Shrapnel’s grip. “D-d-don’t you—d-don’t t-t-touch her!” “Oh, n-n-n-no!” Bombshell said with a mocking stutter. “Are you gonna t-t-t-tell the queen? You gonna fight all of us for your little girlfriend?” “Nah,” Silverstream said out of the blue. “But all of us are gonna fight you, sure!” The three changelings snapped their heads around just in time to see a pink-coated hippogriff soar through the air to tackle them with a screech like an eagle. Silverstream’s talons dug deep into Shrapnel’s carapace as she wrestled him to the ground. Bombshell got to his feet first. He snarled as he charged his horn, readying a mind-altering spell on its tip. Before he could move, a sword-tip speared him through the shoulder. He turned in a panic to see a blue-feathered griffon pull the narrow sword back to pierce again. “Yeah, that’s right! Scream, featherbrain!” Gallus laughed as he twirled the blade of his rapier. “I’m gonna have to teach you some manners!” He paused for a moment, his sword hovering between him and the changeling. “Which I’m just realizing is really ironic!” Bombshell charged for the griffon horn-first, but Gallus easily parried him. “I mean, griffons are pretty well-known for not taking horseapples from anybody, much less their enemies. So me teaching you manners is kinda an oxymoron, you know? Kinda like getting your roof fixed by a plumber or something.” The walls of the catacombs shuddered. Rocks fell like rain as an unimaginably powerful force barreled its way down the halls. A dust cloud rose to hail the source of the earthquake: A very ticked-off yak. “Yonaaaaaa! Saaaaaave! Ocelluuuuuuuuus!” Kickback had time to utter “Guh?” before being trampled underhoof by a one-yak stampede. A young pony stallion followed close behind the formidable creature. Sandbar ran up to Ocellus’ cage and immediately began to cut through the bars with a magical knife of some sort. “Don’t worry, Ocellus. We totally got this.” “I don’t believe this!” Ocellus covered her mouth with her hooves, bewildered at the sight of her friends battling her captors. “Why are you all here? How did you even find me?” “A pony named Time Turner, like, snuck into the hive and figured stuff out,” Sandbar said. “So now all of Equestria is coming to fight Chrysalis! We wanted to get you so that Princess Celestia can bring out the big, awesome magic spells to fight her.” Gallus thrust his blade, and Bombshell fell for the final time. “Yoho! Griffonstone represent!” Yona stepped over what was left of Kickback and began to help Sandbar free Ocellus. A casual tug was all it took for the yak to crack the bars in half. “Ocellus okay? Yona and friends looked everywhere for you!” Silverstream slipped through the gap and wrapped Ocellus in the tightest hug she had ever experienced. “Ohmygosh, ohmygosh, ohmygooooosh! I’m so happy to see you again!” Sandbar pressed himself against the outside of the cage as Shrapnel stalked towards them, his eyes filled with murderous rage. “Uh, Silverstream? Are you forgetting something?” Silverstream glanced up long enough to give the changeling guard a dismissive wave. “Nah, I figured Smolder would handle it.” Shrapnel stopped in his tracks. His eyes widened. He looked up to see an orange-scaled dragon hovering overhead. She opened her mouth to spew fire. He opened his mouth to scream. Smolder landed beside the cage and helped Sandbar open it the rest of the way. She hesitated a moment, then gave Ocellus a soft pat on the head. “Good to see you, bud. Been a sec.” Gallus sheathed his rapier and leaned against a rocky outcropping. He jerked a thumb towards Mandible, who cowered in the shadows. “What about him? Is he coming or what?” Ocellus was overwhelmed. She embraced her friends with a sob, then quickly dried her eyes to smile at Mandible. “Yes! Yes, you can come with us! We can teach you all about friendship, about freeing yourself from Chrysalis’ evil ways! Will you come?” “Y-yes!” Mandible nodded, doing his best to not stare in awe at the six friends standing around him. “Yes, I will! B—” He frowned, his growing excitement dulled by a painful realization. “But Chrysalis… I can’t just leave her.” Gallus snorted while Smolder pulled a face. Sandbar took a step towards Mandible and rested a hoof on his shoulder. “Dude, Chrysalis is bad news. She doesn’t care about you or anybody else—” “No, no, you d-don’t understand.” Mandible shook his head and pointed upwards, towards the living quarters. “Chrysalis is also the name of her daughter. Chrysalis the Second. I can’t leave her to be raised by people who don’t care about her.” The ground shook once more, but this time it wasn’t Yona. Gallus held back a curse as he drew his sword again. “Sounds like Equestria already began the attack.” Ocellus hid behind Silverstream’s feathers as the shouts of changelings at war mingled with the thrum of magic in the air. “I thought you said you were getting us out before the attack.” Yona shrugged. “Best laid plans.” “That’s beside the point!” Silverstream grasped Ocellus’ hooves in her talons. “The Hippogriffs have agreed to save the changelings. Thorax, you, everybody! All we have to do is meet Queen Novo at the east beach before everybody leaves.” Her smile frayed at the edges. “We gotta be quick, because when they’re gone, they’re gone.” Ocellus glanced at Mandible, whose ears had begun to droop. “How long do we have?” “At this point,” Sandbar said, “about an hour.” Ocellus frowned as she rested her head on Silverstream’s chest. “They were gonna leave without me, weren’t they?” “Not by choice!” Smolder pointed her thumb at her chest. “That’s why we’re here! We aren’t gonna let some snooty daddy longlegs-lookin’ son of a—” Sandbar raised a hoof. “Smolder.” “—gun…” She gave him a smarmy grin. “Not gonna let that son of a gun have our friend.” “But Yona’s friends not have a lotta time!” Yona glanced down the corridor as the shadows wriggled with gathering changeling soldiers. “It take Yona an hour just to get to the beach.” Sandbar glanced back and forth between the seven of them. “But we’re here to help as many innocent people as we can. We can’t just leave a little kid behind!” Mandible spread his wings, shuffling a hesitant step backward. “But that’s the thing. You g-guys can’t come with me to g-get Chrysalis the Second, because you’d be b-bogged down with fighting. None of you would m-make it out. I can sneak in, g-grab her, and hit the road.” He smiled at Ocellus, and she felt as though it was his first time tasting a hint of hope. “I’ll meet you g-guys at the b-beach. If you’ll wait for us?” Silverstream nodded fervently, as she always nodded. “We’ll hold the portal open for as long as we can!” Ocellus frowned as Silverstream dragged her down the corridor. “Hurry!” “I will.” Mandible waved as the six of them sped for the exit. “See you soon.” Mandible snuck through the corridors and tunnels towards the tallest spire in the hive. He saw Time Turner himself fighting his way through the soldiers, moving faster than the eye could see thanks to his gadgets. He figured the earth pony stallion didn’t need his help anymore. He could just keep moving. He’d betrayed Chrysalis twice that week. Once when he’d freed Time Turner, and once when he’d spoken to Ocellus. Either one warranted death under Chrysalis the Tyrant’s rule. A small part of him had decided long ago that if he did have to die, it would be worth it. Just so people could live without her brand of fear. He reached a small servant’s entrance to the throne room; a tiny hole behind the seat of power itself. He could see Queen Chrysalis seated upon the rocky outcropping she had carved for herself. She laughed as she looked out the large glassless window overlooking the badlands. She could see her changelings and those belonging in Thorax’s care warring beneath her. The Equestrian army was some distance away, pelting her hive with long-range spells while the foot soldiers marched closer. Mandible poked his head into the room, looking desperately for where he’d left the young Princess Chrysalis. He spotted the Tyrant’s bodyguards flanking either side of the room, under the watchful singular good eye of Commander Bugly. Each one could kill mandible with a single blow from their massive cloven hooves. Together, there was no chance of survival. If anybody caught on to what he was doing… “Mandible!” Queen Chrysalis snapped. “Stop lollygagging in dark corners and get in here. The child is crying and you need to fix it before I blow a fuse!” Mandible skittered into the room. The princess sat on the far side of the throne, in full view of the queen herself. The five-year-old filly instantly perked up at the sight of Mandible, though her face was still soaked with tears. He sat beside the filly and rubbed her back. “Are you okay, Chryssy? Are you hungry?” “Not so loud,” Queen Chrysalis said. “I’m trying to enjoy the slaughter.” Mandible found himself surrounded by Bugly and one of the other guards. The guard aimed a spear tip at Mandible’s chest and waved him towards the wall of the room… quite a ways away from the exit. “Give the queen some space, twig-legs.” “Don’t hurt him!” The princess’ plea was quiet, but forceful. She followed Mandible on his path away from safety. She wiped the tears from her eyes, but more came as she looked down at the battle below. “Why are they fighting, Manny?” Mandible bit his tongue. It took all his willpower to keep from looking at the queen sitting on her throne. The one who’d fed the changelings’ paranoia, who’d preyed upon the creatures around them, who had sought the power of the old changeling empire without understanding the responsibilities associated with it. The feelings of dissatisfaction had built over the millennia, but Chrysalis the Tyrant was the one who spoke them into life. “It’s a long story,” he said, always mindful of the guards surrounding him. “But I think we’re about to see the end today.” “And just why would it end, little wretch?” Queen Chrysalis stood up from her throne and stalked her way over to him. “Are not my changelings powerful? Have we not become a force that threatens even Equestria? It shall end today, yes, but with us as the lords of the world!” A clatter came from the large main entrance to the room. Several soldiers carried a pony between them. It was none other than Time Turner himself, beaten and worn out, most of his devices broken. Time made a strong effort to avoid looking at Mandible, so as not to incriminate him. Mandible had no such strength of will. “Oh no.” It was a small slip, but it was all that Chrysalis needed to put two-and-two together. She smiled as she looked down at her daughter’s young caretaker. “Mandible? Do you know this stallion?” Time Turner looked at the changeling, affecting a confused expression. “Madam, I’ve never seen this creature before in my life.” “Your lies taste like salt, Mr. Turner.” She slapped the earth pony with the tip of her tail. Her horn glowed and the resultant spell gripped Time Turner by the neck. She swung her head around and chucked him into the open air just outside the window. He tumbled, falling head over tail, until he seemed to vanish in midair. She frowned and tilted her head. She looked down, down, down to the ground below. “Well, he’s a more resilient pony than most. Venin, Ransack, won’t you be dears and slay him for me?” The two soldiers in question flew through the window in pursuit of the pony. Chrysalis followed her order by pressing her hoof on the back of Mandible’s neck. “Now, then. What shall we do with you, you little traitor?” Princess Chrysalis grasped her mother’s hoof and shook it. “Don’t hurt him! He’s my friend!” “He’s a slave! Nothing more!” Chrysalis kicked her daughter aside and kicked Mandible towards the window. She hovered over him with her fangs bared. “I should drain you dry of all magic, just to watch you shrivel up into a corpse!” The world turned white around them. A searing heat blazed down from the sky. The air was filled with a horrific roar of flames like a thousand bonfires. The smell of smoke reached Mandible’s nose. When the brightness faded, and the spots had left his eyes, Mandible looked out over the battlefield. Thorax’s changelings were fleeing with all the speed they could muster. Chrysalis’ changelings were scattering. A large section of the field was glassed over, having been struck by one of the most powerful magicks known to Sapience. In the sky, flying towards the hive with her wings aflame, was none other than Princess Celestia of Equestria, Raiser of the Sun. “Now we’ll see a real battle!” Chrysalis guffawed. She lifted Mandible in her magic and brought the green tendril tight around his neck. “But more to the point, you’ll get to see the fruits of your labors first-hoof. Let’s see how well a traitor dies, just as his help arrives too late!” Mandible shut his eyes as the pressure in his neck built. His lungs screamed for air. His chitin cracked and squealed as it crumbled beneath her assault. He couldn’t so much as light his horn, not that his magic could stand against the Queen of the Changelings. He opened his eyes to see Princess Chrysalis one last time. He wanted to reassure her it would be alright. He wanted for nothing more than for her know peace… Queen Chrysalis gasped. She stood on unsteady hooves. She looked at Mandible with a face full of confusion and anger. Her magic grip loosened. At last he saw what had caused the discomfort. A spear point stared him right in the face. The shaft was nestled in the middle of her chest, having lanced her through her midsection from behind. The spear itself was still gripped by a magic spell. He traced the spell back through the room, until he found himself once again looking the princess dead in the eye. She looked back with shock, anger, and despair; the room was filled with the stench of it. Chrysalis the Tyrant gasped out her last gargled words. “Kill the dastard.” As life faded from her, so too did the magic release him. He tumbled through the air, attempting to catch himself with wildly flapping wings. He could sense Bugly and his cohorts racing after him, hastened onward by Chrysalis’ last command. There was no going back. Any hesitation and he was dead. Any attempt to go around them would end in failure. He was panicking. He was rushing headlong for his very life. As he thought of Princess Chrysalis sitting alone in that throne room with her dying mother, he realized that of all the changelings, he was the worst coward of them all. Ocellus gaped at the people gathered on the beach. Hippogriffs and changelings were everywhere. Young and old, warriors and civilians, royalty and commoners. Queen Novo and Thorax were in deep discussion as the Equestrian army waged battle with Chrysalis’ changelings just over the hill. If the Tyrant’s hive broke through the Equestrians, Ocellus knew, all of the people on the beach were dead. King Thorax stood tall, getting the attention of his changelings with a sharp whistle. “Everybody! Queen Novo has something to say. We have to hurry, so gather around!” Novo nodded gratefully to Thorax. She spread her wings and tucked a glistening gemstone in the crook of her elbow. “Everyone! The changelings and the hippogriffs have a shared history. Both our kinds have been endlessly persecuted by those who should have been our closest allies! The griffons from Griffonstone and Felaccia both thought us to be abominations since the days of our forefather Moshe! The changelings have been hunted down and destroyed at every turn, regardless of if they have decided to live peacefully. I say the world does not want us!” Ocellus felt the words stab her heart like a knife. It wasn’t that the world didn’t want them, she thought. Her friends were proof of that. Even if… even if Princess Twilight’s school had been forcibly shut down by the Powers That Be. “Well, then if they don’t want us, let’s give them what they want and leave!” Queen Novo gestured to her daughter, who held aloft a sheet of paper. It seemed to be a sort of map, drawn in the shape of a circle, with several points denoted in different colors. “There is a place where we can all live in peace, without threat from outside forces. It is the Far Side of the World, a land with plentiful food and space. It is a place that cannot be accessed by normal methods, but only by the purest of magic!” Behind her, the water churned. A wave rose sideways, against the wind. It curved upwards and around, forming an archway. Water spun and whirled within the arch as magic shifted and shunted. Before long, the whirlpool had become a magic opening in the fabric of reality. “Join me, hippogriffs and changelings,” Queen Novo said, “let’s escape the hatred while we still have our lives!” With that said, the people on the beach began to pour in. It was a painstaking process, with great care to make sure families passed through together. Ocellus stayed at the edge of the crowd. She kept glancing back towards the battle. She could see the hive in the distance, smoking and smoldering beneath Princess Celestia’s sun-powered attacks. She could hear the Tyrant’s changeling army coming closer with every moment. She knew changelings; when stealth failed, they had a predilection to fight until death took their opponents or themselves. “No, wait!” Sandbar hopped up, but he was too short to see the queen over the crowd. “Does that mean you guys are all leaving forever?” Silverstream was uncharacteristically quiet as she shuffled towards the portal. Her head frills drooped as she bobbed her head. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait, wait, wait.” Gallus reached out and snagged her wingtip. “You didn’t mention this at all.” “Yeah!” Yona’s lips trembled. She took a seat that caused the ground to shake. “Yona… Yona’s friends didn’t say… Yona would have wanted to say goodbye!” “I—I’m sorry.” Silverstream gently yanked her feathers away from Gallus’ talons. “They wanted me to keep quiet. B—but I couldn’t just leave without…” She blinked dampness from her eyes as she looked at Ocellus. “I couldn’t leave you to be killed or worse…” “Or worse?” Sandbar’s eyes jumped between the changeling and the hippogriff. “How’s that even possible?” “Trust me, dude,” Smolder said, walking towards the portal. “There are a lot of things worse than death.” Yona tilted her head. “Where Smolder going?” “Isn’t it obvious?” Smolder shrugged, resting her claws on Ocellus and Silverstream’s shoulders. “I’m going with. There ain’t nothing for me here, ’cept maybe Spike. Or ’cept maybe my brother. They can take care of themselves.” Her voice cracked when she mentioned Garble. Steam leaked out of the corners of her eyes. “And you know what? Yeah, there are worse things than death. Things like never seeing the people who are important to you ever again. Things like saying goodbye without thinking maybe you’ll say hello later on. I just…” She lightly squeezed her friends, which to Ocellus was maybe a little too tight. “You get it, right? Yeah, you get it.” Gallus lowered his eyebrows and thought for a moment. “Screw it. I didn’t wanna go back to Griffonstone anyhow. Buncha idiots. Don’t know when they’re missing a good thing.” “Y-Yona come too!” Yona stomped a hoof. “Yona not gonna leave her friends in their hour of need!” Sandbar looked up at her with wide eyes. “But… but your family!” “Yaks send Yona to be ambassador.” Yona looked her five friends in the eye, one after the other. “Yaks want to prove yaks can be best friends with other peoples. Yona is proof.” She cleared her throat, her mane bobbing around her head. “Friends not leave friends behind.” Ocellus walked towards Yona to give her a hug. She felt it was the only appropriate thing to do. Before she could reach, Yona spun around to face Sandbar, nearly knocking Ocellus on her back. “B-but that not mean Sandbar not friend if he not come!” Yona said in a rush to the small stallion. “Sandbar has responsibilities, too! You have whole family here! Whole life! Sandbar not obligated to come if—” “Yona,” he said in a small voice, “I’m coming.” Smolder sighed and pushed Silverstream aside so she could walk towards Sandbar. “You hit your head again, didn’t you? You ponies are so fragile.” “No, I’m serious, dudes.” Sandbar reached up to attempt to put his hoof on Yona’s shoulder. She had to bend down to accommodate. “What we have is… something special. Something that’s never been done in the history of the world. People tend to stick with their own kind, their own culture, never mixing or thinking of others. But us… I dunno if you could find six more different weirdos.” Gallus snorted. “That’s the nicest thing anybody’s ever called me.” “Yeah, but still…” Sandbar rubbed his forehooves together, his tail swishing behind him. “If we don’t stick together and make this work… All the people who say it’s wrong… we prove them right.” He lowered his ears and shrugged. “You wanna give Neighsay the satisfaction? Or Chrysalis?” “Heck to the no.” Smolder crossed her arms over her chest and turned back to Silverstream and Ocellus. “It’s settled. We’re coming whether Novo and Thorax like it or not.” Silverstream broke like a dam. She launched an embrace at Smolder and attempted to pull Gallus and Yona into it. “I love you guys! I love you guys soooo much!” Ocellus loved them too. She joined in the hugs and tears with everybody with her whole being. And yet, something unrelated bothered her: Mandible. He should have been there by now. But the burning hive and the late hour told her a story she didn’t want to hear. Had he failed? Was he just running a little late? Could he even make his way through the Equestrian blockade? There was no way to know. As far as Ocellus knew, he and little Chrysalis were lost forever. But something kept her from entering the portal. Something kept her hopeful and watching the horizon. She whispered silently to herself. “Creator, if you’re really listening, please keep them safe.” The sight that appeared at the top of the hill was not the one she had wanted. The Tyrant’s army crested the stones with a roar of bloodlust. They surged towards the beach with open mouths and blazing horns. Ocellus opened her mouth to scream. “They’re coming!” Novo and Thorax stood between their people and the oncoming army. They steeled themselves for the assault, teeth gritted and hooves squared. A blinding light flashed from the sky. A pillar of fire struck the sand between the fleeing people and the army. Princess Celestia landed in front of Thorax and Novo, her many-colored mane waving in the wind created by the superheated air. “Run! Flee to the Far Side of the World! I’ll hold them off until the portal closes! Go!” At the princess’ word, the rest of the people filed into the portal to safety. Ocellus’ friends reached it far faster than she realized was possible, and soon it was just her standing on the Badlands side of the world. Silverstream urged her to come across, her talon outstretched. “Ocellus! The portal is closing!” The wall of water that surrounded the magic pathway warbled and waivered as it shrunk. Ocellus looked back at the pillar of fire and the changelings attempting to cross it. Princess Celestia’s body visibly strained as she sought to keep the sun’s magic under control. Even as she watched, changelings were being burned to a crisp. Silverstream reached her foreleg through the portal and grabbed Ocellus’ leg. The hippogriff screamed as the portal grew ever weaker. “You have to come through now, Ocellus! Now!” If Ocellus waited any longer, not only would she be separated from her friends, but Silverstream’s foreleg would be severed completely. There was no more time to wait. She shut her eyes and jumped into the portal, just before the last of the magic faded to ocean waves. Mandible shuffled his way onto the quiet beach. Blood leaked from a wound in his side. He nearly slipped on the glass plate that had once been sand. The moon shone overhead. He was late. By several hours. He had never had a chance. He crumbled at the edge of the water and wept. He couldn’t find Time Turner, or Princess Chrysalis. All he’d found at the hive was a burn out throne room and legions of Equestrian soldiers. He’d fled. There was no way to explain what had happened. There was no way to convince anybody that he wasn’t one of the Tyrant’s hive; he couldn’t even assume the true form of the changelings that Thorax’s hive had rediscovered. He only had a few stuttered words and a heart full of ashes. He had no identity, no country, and no friends. After a time had passed, and the sobs had subsided, he just listened to the shushing sound of the waves. He didn’t even have the gumption to move his legs. A presence at his side spoke softly. “It’s been a long day, hasn’t it?” Mandible couldn’t even drum up the energy to be surprised. Nor did he bother to look at the source of the voice. “I think I w-wish I were dead.” “I’m sorry.” The voice lowered. He could taste the emotions clearly. A bitter regret hung in the air, one that both of them fed into. “You had friends waiting for you, didn’t you?” “They’re gone, now.” Mandible sighed. A wave lapped at his cheek. “All of them. Forever.” The presence at his side shuffled around. He heard the flap of a wing as a charred feather fell onto the water in front of him. “They are not gone. They’re only… away. I believe it when I say that you can comfort yourself with the fact that you will see them again. Someday.” “You’re so c-c-confident.” “Perhaps it is a fool’s confidence.” A short laugh. “But confidence nonetheless. What do I call you?” Mandible gazed at the feather as the ocean dragged it out to sea. “Blank. I’m just… Blank.” “Very well, ‘Blank.’” There was a soft touch on his side. It felt warm. He felt magic sink into his body as a small amount of affection reached its way to his stomach. “You have a good heart, Blank. Even if you don’t know it yet.” He had no response for that. It seemed disrespectful to disagree with someone who’d only shown him kindness. “The hippogriffs and Thorax’s kingdom are safe, and Chrysalis the Tyrant’s changelings are driven back.” The voice seemed to waver slightly, as if it was holding something back. “I have… made many mistakes in my long life, but I think… I think we can save even them. It is my hope that you would help me, Mr. Blank.” Mandible sighed deep in his chest. He looked up at the creature beside him and saw a pure-white alicorn, whose mane illuminated the world around her with sheer magical power. The Princess of Equestria looked down at him with a sorrowful frown. “Life is full of both good and evil, and all people produce both. None of us are different from the other. This is why we must stick together and help one another. This is why I must save Chrysalis’ hive from the total destruction she was headed for. Because ponies and changelings are the same. Because I’ve seen what happens when we go our separate ways.” Mandible rested his head back in the sand. He gazed at the moon’s reflection as it sat in the midst of the water, broken by the gentle waves. “You don’t have to answer me just yet.” Celestia sighed and patted him on the back. “I’ll see that you get mended and fed. We’ll talk more later.” Mandible… No, his name was Blank now. Blank shook his head as he thought on her words. All people produced good and evil? It seemed impossible. Both salt water and fresh water couldn’t flow from the same stream. Still, he stood and brushed the sand from his chitin. Even if Ocellus and her changelings were a world away, there was still a chance Princess Chrysalis was out there. Though, he couldn’t believe he could actually make a difference. At the very least, Celestia believed in him. He followed the alicorn princess back to the Equestrian army’s campsite, where many ponies watched him with guarded eyes. He met an earth pony named Caution, one of Celestia’s personal guards, who dressed his wounds and fed him some pony food. It didn’t quite give him the nutrients he needed, but there was something to be said for comfort food. Caution gave him a cloak to keep out the night chill of the Badlands. All people produced good and evil? Maybe Celestia was speaking broadly. Some people were pure evil, Blank knew. And some were unflinchingly good. Right? And then there was him, a coward and craven, who did nothing but hurt those around him. Where did he fit in? In the end, he supposed there was only one thing he knew for certain… There was no way any good could come from all this.