//------------------------------// // Chapter 14 - Phantoms of the Past // Story: Their Very Own Suns // by Blank Page //------------------------------// Gilda glided alongside Applejack as she raced back to her aunt and uncle’s apartment.  As she galloped, she could have sworn she heard the roll of thunder not once, but twice.  Still there were no clouds in the night sky, leaving her with little doubt as to the source. It was the same thunder from Baltimare.  Five moons ago, it held a mystifying air to it, and when she first found Solaire and Twilight, it gave her an inspiring sense of awe.  Now she only felt dread as the thunder echoed in her ears.  With that horrid dragon tramping about, and the angered roar she heard later…  By heavens, were they actually fighting it? Applejack pushed herself further, urgency biting away at her consciousness.  Gilda sensed it, too.  Though she had told Gertrude and Galahad to take them through the sewers, the salesmare sowed seeds of doubt in her mind with each frantic glance to the horizon.  She knew something Gilda didn’t, and her panic only stressed the griffon more. They rounded the last corner, finding themselves back at the apartments where they had met.  Gilda touched down onto the street, raking her talons across the cobblestone as she came to a sliding halt.  Applejack galloped into the alleyway, and Gilda barked out an order she knew the pony didn’t need. “Hurry up and get the wagon ready; we’re taking it with us!” As Applejack disappeared into the shadows, Gilda took her post, watching both ends of the street, even checking the sky.  She found herself panting, for reasons more than just exhaustion.  The “Warriors of Sunlight” were in trouble.  She needed to get to them now, bail them out of whatever fight they had gotten themselves into.  They were the best chance the griffons had at defeating Nightmare Moon; she knew it in her gut.  It was the same feeling she had with Eve, though she wouldn’t admit it in front of them, but she lost her chance with her.  She wouldn’t let them slip through her talons too. Behind her, the door to the apartments was thrown open, and Gilda heard armored hooves exit. “Hey, go easy, Jester!  We don’t need you hitting your head again.” Gilda whirled around, but even as she did, she could feel her heart spike.  Why did that voice sound so familiar? Two guards stood in the doorway, both staring at her in surprise.  One was the same guard she had knocked out before, just outside Applejack’s apartment.  The other wore the same black armor as the knights before, but she was not a thestral; the blue, feathered wings on her sides proved it.  The knight’s helmet obscured most of her face, though Gilda caught a glimpse of magenta eyes staring widely back at her. Out from the alley, Applejack burst into the street, towing her wagon behind.  “I have everything they need, Gilda.  Let us make haste.” “Gilda?” the black knight echoed. “Applejack?” Jester exclaimed in an accusing tone.  His eyes slewed across the street to Gilda and narrowed on her.  “I guess that makes you the griffon I have to thank for this ringing headache.” He took a step down from the entryway to the apartments, and the knight held a hoof out to stop him.  “Hey, I said take it easy,” she barked, but there was a slight tremor in her voice.  Her eyes couldn’t leave the griffon, even as she spoke. “That mare is suspected of helping the griffon insurgents and the traitors to the throne,” he argued.  “I don’t know what your orders are, knight, but she can’t be allowed to leave.” Gilda tore her eyes away from the mysterious knight and barked out to the salesmare.  “Applejack, get back to the others, now.  You know your way through this city.  I’ll make sure they don’t follow you.” “But, Gilda―” “Go!  And don’t stop for anything!” With a pained expression, Applejack reared back and broke into a gallop down the streets.  Jester was the first to react, flaring out his wings and taking to the air after her, but he was slow.  It didn’t take long for Gilda to take to the air and catch up to him.  She glided alongside him, tucking her legs in tightly before tilting her body and pushing against him with all her might.  He careened over to the side, crashing into the building next to him and stumbling to a heap along the sidewalk, no more conscious than the last time Gilda had left him. Before Gilda ever had the chance to admire her handiwork, something crashed into her side, hard; a mass of black metal and blue wings.  They tumbled through the air, striking the cobblestone and cartwheeling over one another until the knight finally landed on top.  Her forelegs stamped down on Gilda’s shoulders roughly, but the griffon knew the knight could have done far worse. The knight’s voice cracked as she pinned Gilda to the street.  “What are you doing?” Something churned in Gilda’s stomach.  That voice.  Those eyes.  Her speed.  It couldn’t have been, but she had to make sure.  Faster than the knight could react, Gilda reached out with her talons to the base of the knight’s helmet, and with a forceful shove, it went flying into the night. The helmet clattered against the street, ringing like a distant bell.  Gilda could barely hear it as she stared at the face of the mare above her.  Out in the moonlight she could clearly see every detail. Her mane had six colors, distinctive even amongst other ponies.  Gilda recalled when they first met that the mare had to convince her that the rainbow colors were natural.  It was uniformly cut, but all the time spent under the helmet had made it as unkempt as Gilda last remembered it.  Her coat was as blue as the sky from a distant memory, back when the sun blazed brightly over Cloudsdale.  But under the moonlight, it almost had a pale hue.  The mare’s magenta eyes stared widely at her, as though she was seeing a ghost.  As far as Gilda was concerned, though, it was the pegasus that had returned from the dead. Through her numbed senses, Gilda could barely feel an emotion rattling and swelling in her core.  Her face twitched.  “You…” Rainbow Dash blinked.  Gilda’s voice echoed endlessly in her mind.  She could feel her legs shaking.  She tore her eyes off of the griffon beneath her and spotted the runaway mare.  Without another thought, her wings snapped open, and she launched herself forward.  The wind whipped against her ears, drowning out the echo still buzzing within.  But no matter how fast she flew, she still couldn’t outrun the flood of memories chasing after her. As she passed the trailer, she banked sharply into the ground, flaring out her wings.  The earth pony was scrambling to lose her momentum.  “Halt, by order of the Throne!” She barely had time to register the brown and white blur that shot out from behind the trailer until it collided into her side.  Rainbow Dash and Gilda rolled into the sidewalk, giving Applejack ample room to pass.  This time, Gilda landed on top.  Her talons dug beneath the edges of Rainbow's cuirass, and she lifted the pegasus by her chest to meet her scowling beak. “You!” Rainbow Dash wedged her hooves between Gilda’s claws and pried herself free.  With a beat of her wings, she took back to the sky and twisted herself back to the runaway mare, her only salvation from this horrible encounter, but before she could gain any headway, something snatched her tail.  With a surprised yelp, she turned back to find Gilda in the air, her claw gripping her tail in a vice. “Let go of me!” she shouted, kicking at the claw with an armored hoof.  She managed to slip free, but she knew it was only because Gilda let her.  The griffon rose to her height, hovering dangerously close.  Rainbow Dash hesitated.  “I-I can outfly you, Gilda,” she warned. The griffon snorted.  “You always were the fastest back in flight camp, but I was always stronger.  So long as you have to stop, I can beat you in a fight.” Rainbow Dash fluttered back, shaking her head.  “We don’t have to fight.  We… we’re friends, Gilda.” “Are we?” Gilda challenged.  She gave the mare another once-over, still unconvinced of what she was seeing.  “I just ran into five thestral’s wearing that same armor, Dash.  Are they your friends, too?” “Gilda, it’s… it’s complicated.”  Rainbow Dash needed an escape.  She hadn’t spoken to Gilda in years, not since the civil war started.  This wasn’t the time or place to catch up.  They had been best friends since flight camp, and if Gilda knew what she had become now… The runaway mare was shrinking on the horizon behind her.  It was her only way out of this confrontation.  She twisted around, but Gilda was quick to cut her off, hovering between Dash and her target.  The griffon folded her claws across her chest, and her eyes narrowed into a scrutinizing glare. “Make it uncomplicated,” she demanded. Rainbow Dash shook her head again.  Maybe if she did it enough, she would wake up from this nightmare.  “Don’t make me do this, Gilda.  I need to catch that mare.” “Sorry, Dash, but she’s on my side… and I thought you were, too.”  Rainbow Dash tried to protest, but Gilda cut her off.  “When my parents dumped me in Cloudsdale for that stupid flight camp all those years ago, I thought I was going to be miserable, being the only griffon there.  But you were the first one to give me a chance.  You showed me that all you Equestrians weren’t that bad.  You were my best friend, Dash.  My only friend.” Rainbow Dash felt something in her chest deflate.  “Please…” “And when you wrote to me that you were joining Equestria’s Royal Guard, I had never been more proud of you,” she continued, jabbing a tallon into her chest.  “I got to brag to all of Griffonstone that I was friends with the coolest pony in Equestria.  And then Nightmare Moon came and took over everything, and I didn’t hear from you for years.”  She grit her teeth, trying desperately to bite back a flood of emotions.  This should have been a happy moment, seeing her friend alive after all this time, but that black armor around her sucked all the joy she deserved out of it. “I thought you were dead,” she growled.  “Because the Rainbow Dash I knew would never have let Nightmare Moon win, let alone fight for her.  But I guess you always were full of surprises.” “Gilda, that’s… that’s not fair,” Rainbow Dash choked.  “We lost the war.  I… There wasn’t anything else I could do.” A few tense seconds passed as they hovered in the air.  Finally, Gilda spoke.  “But there is now.”  She extended an open claw to the mare, but her eyes burned with a challenge.  “Come with us,” she said sternly.  “Ditch the armor, forget your orders, and help us fight Nightmare.” Rainbow Dash stared at her waiting claw.  Her mind felt like it was tearing itself apart.  This was it.  This was her window, the opportunity she wanted.  “I want to,” she said, barely breaking a whisper.  “I really do, but…”  Shining Armor’s words echoed in her head, and she looked up to her old friend. Gilda’s eyes furrowed on the mare, and her talons slowly closed. “It’s not worth it, Gilda.  You can’t beat her, trust me,” Rainbow tried desperately to explain.  “And the more we fight, the more everypony is going to suffer for it, ponies and griffons.  I know it doesn’t sound great, but the best we can do right now is wait for the real Princess to come back.” “And how long is that supposed to take?” Gilda demanded.  Rainbow Dash didn’t answer immediately, and from her hesitation, the griffon knew all she needed.  “Too long,” she spat.  “Just what I thought.  Sorry, Dash, but I’m not going to wait around for somebody else to fix my problems.” The knight shook her head.  “Gilda, you’re not listening to me.  If you keep this up, you’re going to lose, just like I did!” “Then I’ll lose!” the griffon shouted back.  “But unlike you, I’m not going to change sides when I do.  I’ll stay loyal to our cause to the end.” Her words struck like a mallet against a bell, and Rainbow’s body felt hollow as a powerful guilt rang endlessly within her.  “Don’t do this, Gilda… please,” she begged.  “Don’t make me the bad guy.” The griffon shot her a venomous glare.  “You did that yourself when you put on that armor.” A heavy silence fell over the pair, broken only by the beats of their wings.  The runaway mare was long gone.  The only question that remained was what would happen next.  Rainbow Dash found that she couldn’t look her old friend in the eyes. “I…  I need to report to my lieutenant,” she finally said.  But as she floated back, Gilda reached out and grabbed her foreleg in a vice. “I don’t think you heard me,” Gilda growled.  “We’re not on the same side, Dash.” “Gilda, let go of me,” Rainbow grunted.  She tried to pull her hoof away, but the griffon’s talons wouldn’t budge.  She placed her other hoof over the claw and tugged harder.  “Gilda!” “Why? So you can return to your princess and follow your orders?” Gilda challenged. “I don’t want to fight you!” Gilda’s facade threatened to break as Rainbow screamed desperately.  She watched as tears streamed down the mare’s cheeks, traced across her chin, and splashed against her armor.  That black, infernal armor.  The armor of the enemy she swore to defeat.  The enemy who had stolen all of her friends, even her best friend. Her grip around Rainbow tightened even more.  “Good,” she spat, barely controlling the tremor in her voice.  “It’ll be over quick, then.” Before her old friend could say any more, Gilda allowed her wings to tuck in.  Rainbow Dash couldn’t support the dead weight, and the two spiraled down to the street below. Shining Armor was still in a daze, relying on instinct alone to keep his head on his shoulders.  Down the street, the Warrior continued to sling her spells.  His sister continued to sling her spells. Why did it have to be her? He threw himself to the ground as another unstable hex arced wildly towards him.  The fur on his neck stood on end as the spell singed the air where he had once been.  Even as he dodged, he found that he couldn’t tear his focus away from the fire burning in his sister’s eyes, those once-so-innocent, purple eyes.  What had happened to her?  What had he done? Armor snapped out of his trance in time to see the next attack. A trio of purple bolts rushed towards him from down the street, orbiting themselves in a helix, racing to see which would strike him first.  Even in this unstable form, he was certain he knew what spell this was.  A normal shield wouldn’t save him.  He needed to think bigger. Manehattan took on a purple hue as he conjured a protective dome around him.  The magical bolts tore away from each other, spreading wide before crashing into his barrier.  Armor winced and let the dome fall; he needed to concentrate on what his sister was plotting next. Twilight was in the middle of charging another spell.  Even in the moonlight, Armor could see the sweat gathering over her furrowed brow.  She couldn’t keep this tempo, but the unyielding fire in her eyes said that she wouldn’t let it stop her. She had left herself wide open for a shot.  She didn’t even realize it, but then again, how could she?  Armor never taught her how an actual duel worked.  He had hoped the night would never come.  He had the thought to try calling out to her one more time, to try and talk her out of fighting, but his attention drifted towards the spell she was trying so hard to cast. It was big.  Too big.  Big enough to nearly consume her, and still it was growing.  Purple lightning crackled within an orb whose surface danced as sporadically as the chaos within.  Still, Twilight strained to control it and refused to release it.  Had she ever attempted a spell like this before? Armor felt as though he already knew the answer.  Fear had his heart in a vice.  The spell over his sister shuddered.  She had to let the spell go. “Twilight, stop!” Twilight’s spell collapsed upon itself in time to punctuate his call. There was a blinding light, followed quickly by a thunderclap.  It took Armor more than a few rubs and blinks to allow his eyes to readjust, and when his vision returned to normal, his heart sank.  Twilight was laying in a heap. He shouted out to her, numbly aware that he was already running, “Twilight!” Before the stallion could reach her, though, a flurry of wings and talons intercepted him. Gertrude knew she was out of her league when the duel began.  After all, what more could a griffon do between a battle of mages than stand helplessly on the sidelines and watch?  But something had happened to Twilight, and this stranger was rushing up to her while she was down.  Not a stranger, Twilight’s brother, she reminded herself as she dove after him. She tucked her body in as she reached the knight and pushed for all she was worth.  He was sent sprawling across the street, rolling to a stop against the sidewalk with a pained grunt.  Gertrude loomed over Twilight, unsure of how to check if she was alright.  Mindful of her talons, she rolled the mare onto her back.  Twilight’s head lolled to the side, a pained groan the only sign that she was awake. “Twilight, hey,” Gertrude cooed anxiously.  She grabbed the mare’s chin in her talons and gave her head a gentle, urgent shake.  “C’mon now,” she continued, her tone bordering on singsongy.  “We really can’t stay here.” As though to agree, the dragon called a victorious roar. It woke Shining Armor from his daze, and a new urgency washed over him with a chill.  How could he have forgotten the dragon?  As he laid in the street, gathering his senses, he couldn't help but remember Nightingale’s brief.  The dragon was looking for two things and two things alone:  a giant the likes of which nopony has ever seen before, and a young purple unicorn. His eyes flicked back to his sister, a perfect description of the wanted mare, still unconscious with a griffon standing over her.  He had to get her out of here.  His gaze focused on the griffon.  Digging deep within, he hurled a magical bolt from his horn.  The griffon squawked as she was launched to the other side of the street, and Shining Armor didn’t waste his chance. He galloped to his sister, stumbling to a stop just over her and cupped her head in his hoof.  He called softly, and Twilight’s eyes began to flutter open.  Armor found himself smiling, a hopeful smile he hadn’t felt in years, until recognition sparked in his sister’s eyes, and she swung at him with a hoof. It connected to the side of his face.  It wasn’t strong enough to hurt, but the blow still left him stunned.  With wide eyes, he stared into his sister’s.  Though the punch was weak, the true damage was made up for in the intent of her defeated glare.  Shining Armor opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn’t find the words. “I don’t need you to protect me anymore,” Twilight said bitterly.  Her voice barely broke a whisper.  “I’m not the same little sister you abandoned.” “No… you’re not.”  Though his heart was shattered, Armor could feel his lips twitching into what might have been the ghost of a smile.  But this wasn’t the right time to reminisce, and it certainly wasn’t the right place.  “You’ve come a long way since I last saw you,” he admitted softly.  His lips pressed into a stern line, and his head shook.  “But you weren’t supposed to follow in my hoof steps.  You weren’t supposed to start another rebellion.” “You don’t get it… do you?” Twilight scoffed.  “This isn’t about you… or any of the awful things you’ve done.  This isn’t even about me.”  The words were sticking in her throat.  Though the light from the Mare in the Moon washed over them from above, Twilight prayed her brother couldn’t see the tears welling in her eyes. “I… I didn’t even want this,” Twilight admitted with a tremor in her voice.  “All I was looking for was a spell, not a quest.  I’m terrified of where it could take me… of who it’s taking me to.” “Then stop,” Armor pleaded.  “I’ve seen the end of this road, Twilight.  You’re not going to like it.”  He hesitated as his chest clenched.  He tried not to imagine his sister before Nightmare.  “I’m not going to like it either,” he confessed.  “Twily… you’re all the family I have left.” His sister didn’t respond at first.  She stared up at him with tear-stained eyes, looking him over as though for the first time.  He found himself hopeful.  Maybe he had finally spoken some sense into her after all.  Maybe there was a way to salvage this night. But as he had learned over the last five years, hope was a wicked knife.  It had invaded his heart, and as his sister’s gaze hardened, it twisted inside before tearing itself out. “You should’ve acted like it then,” she deadpanned.  With a hoof, Twilight managed to push her brother off of her.  It didn’t require much force.  Though she never managed to hit him with a spell, he appeared too wounded to resist. “Maybe you’re right,” she admitted as she climbed up to her hooves.  She tried to make herself look big, but with Armor so close, it was clear that he was still the tallest.  “Maybe I won’t like how this ends… but you may be wrong, too.” Armor shook his head, opened his mouth to speak, but Twilight cut him off before he could start.  “I believe in Solaire,” she said firmly.  “He taught me to believe in myself.  And I know I don’t have to see this quest to the end by myself.  He’ll be with me every step of the way.  So will Applejack and Gilda… Uncle Tales and Gertrude and Gallahad.”  Something swelled in her chest, a pride that grew with each friend she had made, a pride she knew would continue to grow with each new one she hasn’t met yet.  “And together, I know there’s nothing we can’t accomplish.” A pang of guilt echoed inside Shining Armor’s quickly hollowing chest.  Twilight didn’t know about Tall Tales’s fate.  Even though he had personally left before the verdict, word had spread quickly across Everfree Castle, confirming his concerns. “Twilight…”  How could he tell her?  He tried to gather his nerves, but he quickly realized that Twilight was no longer staring at him, rather something behind him.  Before he could see for himself, he heard it. A low, heavy growl rattled the air.  Armor tore his eyes away from his sister and found the dragon fully rounding a corner far, far down the street.  His guts wrenched, knowing that the distance meant nothing to it.  It had lost its helmet… somehow, and its greedy eyes never looked more wild as they bored past him.  With an excited bark, it began hobbling towards them.  It was then that Armor realized it carried something in its claw, something that glistened in the moonlight.  Before he could make sense of it, though, a powerful force struck the back of his head. Twilight watched as her brother crumpled from the blast of her spell, but her eyes couldn’t be torn away long from what the dragon had in its clutch.  Chainmail draped over broad shoulders seemed to sparkle like a beacon in the moonlight.  A pale, furless head with a disheveled mane of gold bobbed with each step the dragon took.  Twilight found herself running, not fully aware of what she was running to.  She cried out to the dragon’s prisoner, hoping that through some miracle it would save him. “Solaire!” Solaire’s mind was lost in a mire, grasping for some kind of purchase to pull itself out.  Where was he?  From the heat that embraced him, he began to think he was deposited back on desolate igneous in the fires of Lost Izaleth, but the pain that consumed him…  What was its source?  Hadn’t he perished in the cold streets of Manehattan? It didn’t make sense, and realizing it only made his mind slip deeper.  Still, he tried to make sense of it.  If he had died, he should have reawakened, back in the Land of Lords, the pain but a distant yet aching memory. But the pain remained, all consuming.  Surely, it meant something.  Solaire’s body refused to move, and yet he still felt movement, a deep sway broken by heavy shudders.  Coarse stone coiled around him, abrading his exposed hands raw.  There was something buried within his own loose fist, something soft yet damp with sweat.  His talisman.  A thought fluttered through the fog in his head.  Had the gods found mercy to spare him of his fate? The air rumbled with the growl of a large beast, and Solaire echoed it with a tortured groan.  Finally, his swollen eyes opened.  Far above, the Mare in the Moon stared back with keen interest, curious of his next move. He was in the clutches of the dragon.  Why it hadn’t killed him, he couldn’t comprehend, but now he was its prisoner, with no clear way of escape.  Even if there was, Solaire feared he no longer possessed the strength to stand, much less run.  His thoughts drifted to Twilight, running alone somewhere in the Manehattan streets.  How helpless he felt knowing he had let her down. “Forgive me…  I fear your grace has been wasted on me,” Solaire grunted, hoping whichever deity had spared him would understand. “Solaire!” His heart started to the familiar call of his name.  Desperately, he scanned the street ahead, searching for the source, hoping he was going mad, but his fears were realized as he found his summoner, galloping towards both him and the dragon alone with reckless abandon.  She called his name again, and he shook his head in disbelief. “No…”  It came out as a breath, barely louder than a whisper, impossible for Twilight to hear.  What was she thinking?  Would she truly challenge this monster herself? He couldn’t allow it, not as he still drew breath.  A renewed vigor washed over him, and he struggled vainly in the grip of the dragon.  His mind raced to come up with a plan, but he was without weapon, without armor, and without strength.  He was powerless to stop the dragon.  His fists clenched, and once more he felt the talisman in his grasp.  Suddenly he realized he wasn’t powerless at all. Solaire struggled to remember the stories that priests of Astora had shared with him, hoping to find some sort of inspiration for a prayer, any prayer that would help.  But those memories were from lifetimes ago, and the dragon dominated his thoughts.  It seemed such an impossible task, reserved for only the Lords Themselves. The thought sparked an idea.  Solaire wasn’t certain of the outcome, but he knew the consequences if he chose to do nothing.  He closed his eyes and tried to not think of the swaying motion of the beast’s lumbering gait.  “Gwyn, Lord of Sunlight,” Solaire pleaded to the stars.  “I come before you a humble man—”  His body rattled in the fist of the dragon as it took an uneven step.  “Broken and beaten,” he hissed through the pain.  He sucked in a breath, as much as his lungs could expand in the dragon’s stone grip. “And yet I face the same fiend you and your legions fought, all those years ago.  The scholars used to teach me, back in a time that feels like a dream now.  They spoke of your conquest, how you vanquished the mighty archdragons against all odds, to raise us from the Dark, to give our world light.” He dared to open his eyes again and looked out to the street ahead.  Twilight was skidding to a halt against the cobblestone, petrified a block away.  Even from his vantage, she seemed so small…  What thoughts coursed behind those pinpoint eyes as she beheld the size of this titan?  Were they the same as Lord Gwyn’s legionnaires? The thought ignited a fire in his heart. “Here, in the most unlikely of worlds, have I found the heir of your warriors,” Solaire said through grit teeth.  “On a quest to raise this world from an eternal night, to grace it once more the light of the sun against terrifying odds!  She walks their path, unknowing of their tale, but I now remember…  No lone knight could slay a dragon; it took not a single spear, but a storm.” The air shook in a rumble, but this time it didn’t come from the beast.  Shadows consumed the streets below as darkness fell over the city.  With a quick glance, he caught the final glimpse of the Mare in the Moon before she disappeared behind a thick curtain of dark clouds.  His innards fluttered.  Had he found favor? The dragon had taken notice, pausing to inspect the darkened sky.  Golden arcs of lighting pulsed within the clouds, painting it as a silhouette.  It roared a mighty challenge to the sky, and Solaire found himself giddy with excitement. “And so I plead for your favor!” he shouted over the rumbling clouds.  “To show this world the truth you found long ago:  that the immortal dragons were not so.  Let this beast be your testament!  Let your glory roll across this city in a heavenly thunder!” The sky answered his roaring call in kind. Golden pillars of lightning hammered into the anvil of Manehattan.  The air shuddered against the cacophony; Solaire could feel his own bones quake.  It drowned out all other sounds, even the dragon’s agonized wails paled in comparison as the sporadic bolts began to strike their mark. Solaire felt the wind eject from his lungs as the dragon reared high upon its hindlegs.  Its fist closed tighter around him as it reached its full height, and he found himself wheezing for any breath he could catch.  He wasn’t certain how high he was; between vertigo and the random flashes of gold light, it seemed impossible to shake his disorientation, until the dragon produced light of its own. A tower of green flames erupted skyward from the dragon’s maw, accompanied by a blistering heat.  Was it trying to simply burn the clouds away?  Solaire could feel himself baking within its claws, and as he turned his face away from the heat, he found the roofs of the strange buildings far below him.  Even further down, at the edge of the shadows, he saw the onlookers, Twilight and now Gertrude, frozen like statues as they simply stared. A rogue bolt of lightning struck the dragon’s wrist, but for all Solaire knew, the world might as well have shattered behind him.  The blinding light was hardly a warning for the thunder that threatened to rupture his ears in the same second.  His body shook and flailed, and his innards tensed as the sensation finally registered. Solaire was falling to his demise in the broken streets below. Once upon a time, Applejack would have thought herself mad for running into the heart of a thunderstorm, especially one as savage as this.  Never had she ever witnessed one so terrifying, not even during her simpler days living on a farm.  No team of pegasi could have created this monstrosity, and seeing as it came from the same direction as those awful howls, she had little need to guess its true source. But was it even possible?  Did Solaire truly have this sort of power within him?  She tried to push such thoughts out of her head, tried to focus on galloping, but they were insistent.  What if it was?  What if he did?  Worst of all, what could have convinced him to unleash it? She nearly stumbled as a tower of flames reached into the clouds, as if to challenge the lightning. Two blocks over.  A little further down. Her mind whipped her body to move faster, faster than she ever had in her life.  She turned sharply at the next intersection, and the momentum of the wagon threatened to tear her from the street.  Her muscles strained.  Her teeth clenched.  Her hooves beat wildly against the cobblestone.  She was not going to let her friends down. The wagon stabilized, but there would be one last turn up ahead before she would see the battle.  Applejack found herself fearful of what she might find. “Twilight!  Solaire!” she shouted in between panting breaths, as though they could hear her.  “I’m almost there… I promise!  Just hold on…  Just a moment longer!” Twilight stood in terrified awe at the scene before her.  Too late, she realized she didn’t have a plan to confront the dragon.  Everything within screamed for her to run, but as the sudden storm caged the beast in lightning, she couldn’t find the strength to move, not until a stray bolt hammered into the street only a few yards before her. She jumped back with a start.  Through the ringing in her ears, she heard the heavy beat of wings.  Gertrude landed next to her.  When their gazes met, the griffon’s wide eyes asked the question she couldn’t find the words for:  What was happening? “I heard Solaire shouting,” Twilight called fearfully over the thunder.  “He’s done something similar to this before, but… never to this scale.”  Another bolt struck just on the other side of Gertude.  This time they both jumped.  “I… I don’t think he’s in control!” Gertrude had a talon in her right ear, trying to fish out the ringing.  “What are we going to do?” she hollered. Just as she asked, the street was bathed in green light.  The dragon had  reared back and let loose a jet of flames into the clouds.  Even far below in the streets, Twilight could feel the heat. “I… I don’t know,” she finally admitted, too softly for Gertrude to hear.  “I don’t think there’s anything we can do.” She couldn’t take her eyes off of Solaire, and when lightning struck the dragon’s claw and he disappeared in the blinding light, her stomach dropped.  Her eyes scanned the sky desperately.  The dragon’s flames were abruptly cut off, and the only source of light came from the random bolts. There he was, tumbling helplessly in the air.  Panic seized her; she couldn’t think of a spell to save him in time.  She turned to Gertrude and shouted her name, but the griffon had already launched herself into the sky. Gertrude’s wings beat furiously as she rose to intercept the falling giant.  The storm continued to rage around her.  She could only hope that a straight line would be the safest path.  As she drew nearer to her target, she reached out with her claws and called out to him, hoping that he would hear, but he never reached back. She overshot, and Solaire continued to fall.  Gertrude pivoted in the air, and with a heavy beat of her wings, she pushed herself downward.  Solaire must have been unconscious or nearly so, she knew that now.  The cobblestone street was on fast approach.  Gertrude tucked in her wings, made herself as narrow as possible, keeping Solaire within her sight.  His back was to the earth.  His limbs were limp in the air as he fell.  The only sign that he wasn’t fully gone yet was how he gripped loosely a cloth rag in one of his hands. The distance between them tightened.  Gertrude reached out once more with her claws.  They gripped Solaire by the pits of his arms, and she snapped out her wings. The added weight nearly tore her wings out of their sockets as she tried to control their descent.  She could only lead them into a glide, and even that was too much of a strain.  She looked for Twilight and found the mare on the ground, staring past them with terrified eyes.  The unicorn took a few cautious steps back before breaking into a gallop away from them.  Reluctantly, Gertrude checked behind to see what was wrong and quickly wished she hadn’t.  The dragon was falling towards them. The ground was only a few yards below, but stopping now meant being crushed alive.  She carried Solaire for as long as she could, briefly surpassing Twilight until the giant’s feet struck the ground, and the drag snatched him from her grip. Solaire’s body rolled to a stop against the cold cobblestone.  Twilight was first to reach him.  The dragon collapsed fully into the street with the sound of an avalanche, the last bolt of lightning sent a final roll of thunder across Manehattan, and the air became deathly still. “S-Solaire?” Twilight called timidly as she hovered over him.  The clouds above began to disperse, as quickly as they had appeared, and she gasped as the moonlight bathed him.  His face was beaten and bruised.  His golden mane was a mess, no sign that it was ever kept in such a clean ponytail.  Twilight didn’t dare check beneath his chainmail, fearful of what she might discover.  His chest rose and fell, slow and weak, but it meant he was alive. Gertrude caught up to them, her dismal face a mirror to Twilight’s as she inspected him.  The mare cupped the warrior’s head in her hoof and tried to call him once more. “Solaire?  Can you hear me?  Are you… are you okay?” His chest rose a little higher, and his breath exhaled in a long, low grunt.  His swollen eyes opened, and his attention flickered across the stars before settling on her.  Solaire drew in a deep breath and pushed a smile for his summoner. “Ah…  there you are… young Twilight,” he croaked.  His hand reached up to her, stopping midway as he winced.  Twilight was quick to grab it.  “You really mustn’t make a habit of running away like that,” he said softly.  “You could get yourself hurt.” An incredulous snort pushed out of her, and she shook her head.  “Speak for yourself,” she chastised him lightly.  She offered him a smile of her own, even though everything inside her wanted nothing more than to cry. A low, weak growl sounded behind them.  Twilight looked back and felt her heart drop.  The dragon was still breathing, trying to claw its way back to consciousness.  Its head rested only a building away. “We need to get out of here,” Gertrude said, echoing everybody’s thoughts. They helped Solaire up to his feet, after he assured them he could at the very least walk, but one last obstacle stood in their way.  As they turned from the dragon, they found a lone knight guarding their escape. Shining Armor shook his head in disbelief.  His sister, the griffon, and the Giant stared back, tensed for battle.  Past them, the Princess’s dragon laid in a heap.  His eyes singled on the Giant. “What… What are you?” he demanded. Solaire stiffened, realizing the question was meant for him.  He took an unsteady step forward, nearly collapsing from the effort.  The others tried to stop him, but he shrugged off their concerns. “I?  I am Solaire of Astora,” he said, trying to make himself more imposing than he felt.  “Adherent to the Lord of Sunlight.  Warrior of the Sun.”  His body protested his stance.  Doubling over, he grabbed at the pain in his side.  Twilight and Gertrude voiced their concerns once more in hushed tones.  Twilight sounded more urgent of the two. He straightened himself as best as he could, staring down at their foe.  “I was summoned by this mare to aid her in her quest,” he continued through grit teeth.  With a shaky breath, he steeled his nerves to hold on just a little bit longer.  “And I shall not rest until we see it through.” Further down the street, past the lone knight, a figure rounded the corner towards them, a pony pulling an oversized carriage. “It is you, then,” Armor breathed.  He ventured a step forward, uncertain of what he was going to do.  Here before him stood the creature his little sister was so fascinated with, the one that enthralled her to start this mad quest.  It seemed to be on its last leg.  Armor couldn’t help but wonder; if he got rid of it here and now, would his sister finally give up? As though she read his thoughts, Twilight moved protectively in front of Solaire. “Don’t you dare,” she challenged with a growl. Shining Armor scowled.  “Don’t you see what you’re making her do?” he shouted at the giant.  “This isn’t supposed to be her quest!  She’s supposed to be staying safe, but now she’s throwing herself at dragons because of you!” Her brother suddenly tensed, and his horn was glowing brightly as he grit his teeth.  Twilight stood ready for a spell to fly at them, but all that came was a rumbling growl behind them.  She turned back to the sound and found Solaire staring back at her, mesmerized.  Above them both, the dragon’s colossal claw hung ominously in the air, just inches above Solaire’s head, ready to snatch them both. The dragon growled in anger as it laid in the broken street.  Its lips peeled back to reveal a wicked snarl.  Its eyes were pinned on Twilight, and she thought she’d succumb to the weight of its glare alone.  It tried to flex its claw above them, but it was encased in a magical barrier that it didn’t have the strength to break.  Twilight turned confusedly to the only other unicorn in the street. “Twilight!  Solaire!” Behind the knight, Applejack cried out with a voice hoarse from exertion.  The mare slid to a halt a short distance away, fighting against the momentum of her cart.  She stared dumbfounded between the knight, her friends, and the dragon.  They all seemed frozen in time, and she didn’t know what to make of it. Gertrude was first to break the illusion.  “Come on; that’s our ride, right?” She wrapped her claws around Solaire’s arm and led him out from beneath the dragon’s grasp.  The beast barked in frustration as its prey escaped from its grasp, and it tried once more to close its fist.  Shining Armor winced and fell to a knee, never keeping his eyes off the claw he held in suspension.  As the giant passed him, he could feel its confused gaze linger over him.  Twilight numbly trotted after her companions. “This wasn’t supposed to happen,” Armor whispered as she passed. She paused.  Though her mind wanted nothing more than to ignore him, her heart had anchored her body in place.  She stared at him, wondering if he would continue. He dared to break his eyes away from the dragon to glance at her, and it took its advantage to move another inch.  With a hiss, Armor returned his attention to it, but he found the strength to say one more thing, hoping she would believe it. “I never wanted to hurt you.” Something welled in Twilight’s chest, but she left before letting her brother see what it was. Up ahead, Gertrude was assuring herself that Applejack knew a way out of the city before helping Solaire into the carriage.  In the short time that Twilight had known her, Applejack had never looked so tired.  Somehow, the salesmare's dress had torn, exposing her hindleg from hoof to flank.  Twilight didn’t mean to pause, much less to stare, and when she realized what she was doing, her eyes flicked to Applejack’s. “Get in the carriage,” Applejack said sternly, trying to ignore the heavy blush quickly overtaking her. With a rushed apology, Twilight quickly obeyed.  She grabbed Gertrude’s outstretched claws, and as soon as the door was shut behind her, the wagon began to move. Time passed, and all three passengers were still in a daze.  Solaire rested low on the floorboards, his back propped up against Applejack’s dresser.  Though his body begged for rest, his troubled mind wouldn’t allow for it.  His thoughts were with that strange knight and the words he said.  The more he dwelled on it, the more the stallion’s face seemed worryingly familiar, and he tried in vain to not glance too often at Twilight. Gertrude couldn’t help but feel something was missing.  Her eyes darted across the cramped space of the unfamiliar wagon, searching for something she couldn’t put her talon on.  Suddenly, the missing something became clear, or more accurately the missing griffon. “Where’s Gilda?” she asked aloud, more of an announcement than a question.  Twilight and Solaire glanced at each other and then to her.  Gertrude could feel her heart racing.  She couldn’t remember seeing her friend outside with Applejack. “Gilda?” she called, as though the missing griffon was hiding in the cramped space with them.  Gertrude shot for the door and nearly threw it off its hinges.  Outside, the streets howled at her mockingly.  She called once more, louder than ever, before opening her wings and throwing herself outside.  The wind shut the door behind her, leaving the mage and the warrior to their thoughts. Twilight was struggling to keep her emotions in order as she sat by the ladder to the bed up above.  She had stolen a peak and was almost relieved to see her saddlebag still there, but even the thought of pulling out a book couldn’t comfort her now.  Her brother…  It just had to be her brother… She could feel Solaire staring at her.  She returned the favor and found him with his mouth open, like he was trying to form words. “That stranger before,” he finally began.  “Who was he?  He acted like he knew you.” “Nopony,” Twilight quickly lied, and she felt her gut wrench.  Solaire continued to pry with a questioning look.  She shook her head and screwed her eyes shut.  “I… I don’t want to talk about it,” she tried again, but even she wasn’t convinced it was the truth.  Her body trembled independent of the cart. She wished this moon would never come.  After seeing Shining Armor again, she thought her emotions would make more sense, but the fear still lingered, even though he was likely a mile away by now.  The anger still festered just beneath her skin, a thin shell for the well of grief inside that threatened to drown her. Twilight turned to the side as she opened her eyes.  Her hoof pushed against her lips to quell their tremor.  Solaire didn’t push for a real answer, but she knew he was still waiting.  She told herself he deserved to know. “He…  He was my big brother.” Rainbow Dash watched as the storm on the horizon quelled, secretly hoping to herself that it would last just a little bit longer to spare her from her own thoughts.  When the dragon spat fire into the sky, she had little doubt what was happening.  The lieutenant had found the Warriors of Sunlight.  She wanted nothing more than to be there now, to be anywhere other than here.  So why did she linger? Metal cuffs rattled off to her side, signaling that Gilda was waking up.  Rainbow Dash stood rigid, watching where the storm had disappeared, trying her best not to look at the lamppost where she had chained her old friend. “Well… I guess I need to take my own words back, huh?”  Gilda slurred.  “Then again… you always were full of surprises, weren’t you, Dash?” The knight closed her eyes to help fight the urge.  “Don’t,” she spat.  “I told you I didn’t want to fight.” “And I guess I should have listened,” the griffon jeered.  “After all, you’ve probably had plenty of experience stabbing your old friends in the back.” “Shut up!”  Rainbow Dash reared her head to face Gilda.  The griffon sat in a heap, her back pinned to the lamppost behind her.  Hidden were the cuffs that tethered her claws on the other side.  The angle made it impossible for her wings to move well enough for flight. Gilda raised her head high enough to better read her old “friend”. The mare’s eyes were bloodshot, and the fur around them was damp with a hidden trail of tears.  It made Gilda’s stomach turn.  It was Dash’s choice as much as hers that led them both here. She barely got a scratch on the mare’s face, a few traces of deep red where her talons raked across the side of her chin.  It was the only visible strike she had landed, and she couldn’t recall how many she had received in return.  Gilda remembered reading one of Rainbow Dash’s letters.  The mare once boasted that each scratch on her armor was a medal of its own, and the griffon found herself proud to give her one she could never hide away. “Sorry, sorry, I forgot how much you loved your moments of glory,” Gilda continued sarcastically.  “You used to live for them back in the day.”  She let her head fall back down limply over her chest, partly to hide the nostalgic smile tugging at her beak.  “Do you remember that?” she asked with a chuckle.  “Back in the day?” She heard the mare sniffle but missed the nod.  “I was a real hothead, wasn’t I?” Dash asked. Gilda hummed weakly.  “Yeah, you always had to be the winner.  Even after you knocked that poor, little filly out of Cloudsdale in that race.” Rainbow Dash could feel her throat seizing.  “That was an accident,” she cut in.  “You know that.” “Did they ever find her?”  Gilda looked up once more to see the mare’s reaction.  Dash stared back with wide eyes but wasn’t able to speak, no matter how much her mouth moved.  “That should have been my first hint about you,” she grumbled.  “Even when you’re trying to help, it all takes a backseat so long as there’s a chance to win.  Is that why you changed sides, Dash?  Were you scared of losing?” Gilda never got her answer.  In the blink of her own groggy eyes, Rainbow Dash disappeared.  The only hint of where she went was the faint afterimage of a rainbow that streaked through the night sky. “Sure, fly away,” Gilda spat to the air.  “You always were the fastest after all.” It occurred to her that her journey had already come to an end, just as soon as she had gathered the nerves to start it.  As her mind began to slip back into a comforting numbness, her thoughts drifted off to Twilight and Solaire, the strangers that had set this whole moon into motion.  She had hoped that somehow she had bought them enough time to escape… and that they would somehow make her sacrifice worth it.