Chapter 8
Wanderlust blinked as he was dragged into the blinding light, trying to make out his surroundings. The floor beneath him was smooth as his unseen captors dragged him roughly inside. The air was thick with the heavy, bovine odor of minotaurs and something else, an almost floral scent. Abruptly, the massive hands dragging him propped him into a sitting position before withdrawing with a grunt and the click of hooves on concrete. Wanderlust’s head was still ringing from the blow he had suffered, but his eyes were slowly adjusting to the light.
“It’s so fascinating to see the products of my work after all this time.” The voice, deep and smooth, was coming from a grayish blur in front of Wanderlust. Whatever it was stooped down to the pony’s eye level. “When I first decided to isolate your ancestors in their little corner of the ring, to begin my little pet project, I never imagined that the experiment would run this long. If only I could have supervised things more closely: there’s so much I simply don’t know. I suppose that makes the experiment a failure, at least in a scientific sense: I learned next to nothing. Still, the fact that out of all the subjects I could have examined, I come across one of you? I’d say that makes it all worth it in the end, even though I suppose it was always the most probable outcome.” It spoke again, obviously to another. “You didn’t find the others?”
“They were alone, your Grace.” The new speaker was directly behind Wanderlust. His voice was deep, confident, a voice that commanded instant respect and somehow assured the listener that it had been earned.
“Double the perimeter guard,” The first voice ordered. The second barked something in a harsh, gutteral language, presumably directed at the minotaurs, and several sets of hoofsteps retreated, shortly followed by a slamming door.
“Even with the guards, I would greatly recommend that we keep our stay here short.”
“Are you truly so worried about them? There can’t be more than half a dozen.”
“Half a dozen who have killed hundreds of our own,” The second voice objected, “and have been slowly bleeding us of supplies. I do not think they should be underestimated, your Grace.”
“Noted,” The first voice replied curtly. “Rest assured that this will not take long.”
Wanderlust could just barely make out the first speaker as his vision cleared. A long grey face with yellow eyes that held red pupils. Two large fangs jutted from its mouth and its head was crowned with mismatched horns and a bushy black mane. He wore a white robe that hid his serpentine body and two wings were barely visible behind him. Wanderlust had never seen him directly, but a name came instantly to his mind. “Discord?” He asked groggily, his head still foggy from his injury.
“Close, but no. My protege would be the one of our kind that you were most familiar with, but certainly it occurred to you that he wasn’t the only one?” Their captor raised an eyebrow, gauging the unicorn’s reaction. “Or maybe not.” The draconequus straightened and took a few steps back. “A pity that you didn’t inherit his intelligence. It’s true that there are not nearly as many of us as there were.” As he spoke, the owner of the other voice stepped past Wanderlust. The second draconequus had the grace of a dancer, silently and fluidly moving across the room. His mane was cut close to his head, his horns filed to short, sharp points, his wings were missing and he wore a massive sword down the center of his back over black body armor. “I assure you, however, that we are far from gone.” The first draconequus finished.
“Who are you?” Wanderlust finally asked, trying to wrap his mind around what was going on. He glanced to his right and saw his two friends next to him, both bound and gagged. For whatever reason, his captor wanted him able to speak.
“They didn’t tell you?” The first draconequus gave him a knowing smile. “Hmmm...curious. Tell me, did they give you a reason why you were selected? Why they picked you specifically for the task of murdering me?”
“How-” Wanderlust began, but the draconequus cut him off.
“How did I know your intentions?” He had a cold, predatory smile that reminded Wanderlust more than he liked of Flamerage. “There are very few things that happen on this ring without my knowledge. Nothing the Overseers do escapes my attention, and certainly not anything your little friend has been up to. That pony who has been running about inside your head as if it is his personal playground likes to nurse delusions that he still owns this ring, but I assure you, it is very much mine. I do believe, however, that we have strayed off topic. Why did they tell you that you were selected?”
Wanderlust remained silent and his captor sighed. “Really, now? What do you have to lose by telling me? I assure you that I could force the information from you, but I do so hate having to resort to torture this early on, especially over something so trivial.”
Wanderlust considered for a moment and relented. “I volunteered.”
“You really believe that.” The draconequus chuckled. “Cute. There was nothing to suggest otherwise? No strange coincidences? No small, overlooked details that might have pushed you towards volunteering?” The map was in Snow’s pack. Why wouldn’t they have taken it out before they returned it if it were secret? And Luna was waiting there.... His thoughts must have been plainly written on his face because the draconequus smiled and slowly approached him. “I thought as much. All the insults they threw at me, the disparaging titles, the moral condemnations, and what are they? Hypocrites,” The draconequus hissed, “every last one of them.
“They lie, they cheat, they manipulate and even worse, they do it to their own kind. I, at least, had the common decency to use it as a weapon to wield against my enemies” He crouched down to look Wanderlust in the eye. “Would you like to know the real reason? The one they were afraid to tell you?” Wanderlust stared back. I’m not giving you a thing, you bastard. “I’m sure you’ve run over it in your head, built yourself up, told yourself that you’re the right one for this task because you’re strong, or brave, or smart, but I have news for you.”
The draconequus leaned in and whispered in Wanderlust’s ear, “You’re not.” He drew back and smiled his thin, mirthless, cruel smile again. “You’re not some hero, you’re not a champion, you’re not a savior, and you know why? Because they didn’t want a hero. They couldn’t have used a hero.” His captor’s voice became a quiet hiss. “They couldn’t have controlled a hero. What they wanted was a puppet, and you’ve been dutifully dancing on your strings this entire time, playing your part perfectly. You’re exactly what they wanted: no goals, no aspirations, no thoughts, no abilities.”
Wanderlust spit into the draconequus’ face. His captor scowled and wiped it away with the back of his paw. “Impolite,” He growled. “Think back to how you got this.” The draconequus ran a talon across Wanderlust’s scar and the unicorn winced as his mind was flooded with pain. He could feel the heat of dragonfire on his face again for an instant and he almost screamed before it abruptly ended. The unicorn gasped as his captor smiled. “I’m sorry, did that hurt? Trust me, that’s only a taste of what a true master of the arcane can accomplish, whelp. Do you really think that one such as yourself could have killed a dragon with magic alone?” The draconequus stood and turned his back, spreading his arms to his sides in an inviting gesture. “If you’re so powerful, kill me now. None of the others will lift a finger to stop you.” The other draconequus cast a glance at his master, but said nothing.
Wanderlust closed his eyes and concentrated, summoning all his strength to try and free himself, try to take advantage of what might be his only chance to escape, and found that he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t come close to conjuring the kind of spell that would be necessary to so much as scratch the draconequus. He strained, trying to do anything at all before finally giving up and slumping against his bonds.
“That’s what I thought,” The draconequus said disdainfully, clasping his hands behind his back. “You owe everything you’ve accomplished, even your continued survival, to a simple quirk of probability; a joke of genetics that drifted down to you through eons. You see, this ring is one of the most complex artifacts ever crafted by any race. Magic is its essence, the webs of enchantments carry power through it like blood through veins. Layers upon layers of the most powerful spells ever laid upon a construct were intertwined and enmeshed, each enhancing the others until, by some definitions, the ring became very much a living thing.
“Its creators poured their efforts, their minds, their blood, sweat, tears, even their very souls into this ring, becoming as much a part of it as those pathetic monuments to your arrogance scheming from behind their walls. You happen to be, by some trick of probability, a direct descendant of those who built this ring, and the ring recognizes its own.” The draconequus tapped Wanderlust’s nose with the tip of a talon to punctuate the statement. “It’s been protecting you every step of the way, lending you some small piece of its power. Unfortunately for you, your kind lost your claim to this ring quite some time ago. It obeys me now, and now that I’ve found you, I can cut you off. You have to rely on your own abilities now, or lack thereof. Before we move on, I’m curious: did they tell you anything about the pony pulling your strings?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Is that so? They didn’t tell you anything? Well in that case, I’m going to do you a favor. I’m going to do something for you that your masters never did: I’m going to tell you about the pony playing about inside your head.”
“What?” Wanderlust asked, completely lost.
“I’m sure you’ve seen him, at least once or twice. A silver pony, blue mane, overwhelming sense of arrogance?” Wanderlust’s eyes went wide and the draconequus nodded. “So you do know him. I’m sure you don’t know much about him, though. He went by many titles when he was still alive: Admiral, Administrator, Guardian, all very respectable. My favorite is the one his own kind gave him near the end of his life, though.
“You ponies have such a way with titles: my protege enjoyed the one they gave him so much that he took it as his name. I was never quite that taken with mine, but I am still rather fond of it. Oathbreaker, they called me. Rather poetic ring to it. My bodyguard,” Oathbreaker gestured at the other draconequus, still standing silently at his side, “They called ‘The Reaper’s Right Hand’.” He chuckled. “I suppose that makes me the Reaper. In any case, do you know what they called your little silver friend?” He paused for several seconds, staring into Wanderlust’s eyes before he continued, letting the words roll softly out of his mouth, savoring them like a fine wine. “The Butcher of Draconis IV.” The draconequus’ tone became almost giddy as he continued. “Were you aware that the pony you’ve been following, the pony who has been pulling your strings, killed over five billion innocents within a matter of minutes? Not personally, of course, but they died at his command. More living beings than you will ever meet in your life, than you could meet in a dozen lifetimes, and he murdered them without a second thought.”
Wanderlust suddenly felt that he was going to be sick as his captor continued. “I think that brings us to your part in all of this. I’ve always abhorred pointless cruelty: it’s sloppy and wasteful. For that reason, I’m going to make it clear to you who I am and why I’m doing this. My name is Idkar Rafaldin: Emperor of the draconequui, King of the changelings, Lord Protector of the Griffon Dominion, War Chief of the dragon clans. I spent much longer than you could ever hope to live accruing subjects and titles. I was able to accomplish all of this in part because my species lives an extraordinarily long time. In fact, I don’t think there has ever been a draconequus to die of old age. The oldest living member of my species was nearly twenty thousand years old when I put his head on a pike. As a consequence, we tend to see the long-term: We plan over generations, build alliances to last ages. Similarly, we also tend to hold grudges for quite some time and therein lies the rub.
“You see, your ancestors were an unbelievable inconvenience to me. They played a key role in losing me the war. I lost thousands of ships taking this facility alone, including those carrying three of my children. I was denied my revenge over and over again. I thought I’d lost my final chance when the Butcher killed himself, transferring his mind into the ring’s computers, but with you here, I finally have the opportunity to exact some sort of vengeance.
“Your ancestors took our culture, they took our language, they took the essence of who and what we were and forced us into their mold of what civilization should be. When we fought back, they demonized us, called us representations of chaos.” Idkar looked down at his hands, one taloned and the other like the paw of a lion. “Do you know what we really are? We are unity. We are a symbol of what can be accomplished when the downtrodden stand together as one and rise against their oppressors.
“For those sins of your ancestors, you’ll suffer. Every horror I can devise, every trial of mind and body, every torture I can inflict upon you, you will feel it all until I decide that your atonement is complete. Make peace with your gods, pony, because this is the last they’ll hear of you: you belong to me now.” The draconequus turned to leave. “Drast, I’ll leave this part to you. You know how much I hate the sight of blood, after all.”
“As you wish, your Grace.” The emperor turned to go as the other draconequus, Drast, stepped forward. The Reaper’s Right Hand waited until the door had closed behind his master before he slowly began to unsheathe his sword. “I am not averse to bloodshed. However, I share Emperor Rafaldin’s dislike of pointless cruelty. As a result, I’ll make this quick.” He gestured to one of the minotaurs. “Bring the blue one forward.”
Drast stood waiting, holding the long, black sword in one taloned hand, bearing its weight without any visible effort as two minotaurs dragged Allegro forward and roughly propped him up in front of the draconequus. Drast snapped his fingers and the gag disappeared from Allegro’s mouth. “Say goodbye to your friends.”
Allegro stared desperately at Wanderlust. “Goodbye, Wands.” He said, a slight crack in his voice. “I’m so sorry a-” The sentence ended in a strangled gasp as the draconequus jammed the blade into his chest without warning. The blue pony made a piteous mewling sound as his body slowly went limp, blood foaming from his mouth as his breathing slowed, his eyes still locked on his friend’s face. Wanderlust just stared in horror, too shocked to react, too shocked for tears, feeling nothing but a growing tightness in his chest.
Drast pulled the sword out of Allegro’s chest and let the pony’s body flop to the floor. The draconequus kicked the body once then, content that he was dead, knelt to wipe the blade of his sword on Allegro’s fur. “That one was quick. I assure you that your winged friend’s fate will not be. She will suffer until she begs for death, until you beg for her to die.” He straightened and put his sword away. “We’ll make you kill her. It may take time, but you’ll break: they always do. We will force you to stare into her eyes as you end her life, to see the fear, the betrayal. Finally, you will suffer alone, knowing that there is no hope of escape, that your friends are gone, that there is no hope of an end until my master has tired of your screams.”
“You monster.” The words escaped Wanderlust’s throat as a whisper, his eyes still locked on the body of his friend.
“Many have called me such. In the end, though, I am simply what your kind made me: the logical end product of your policy of meddling in affairs which are not your own.” The draconequus straightened and looked to one of the minotaurs. “Bring them, we’re leaving.”
Wanderlust tore his gaze away from Allegro’s body and turned to look at Dawnfire. She was looking back at him and he could see the sorrow in her eyes. Suddenly, her ear twitched and she cocked her head. Wanderlust strained, but couldn’t hear anything. An instant later, an ear-splitting explosion rocked the room and he was knocked to the floor.
Wanderlust couldn’t hear anything over the ringing in his ears. Blinding white light strobed overhead, silhouetting the minotaurs as they fought. Lying on his back, the unicorn caught a brief glimpse of Drast, firing a weapon with one hand and deflecting a beam of light with the other, backing out a doorway as a minotaur next to him was impaled on a beam of blinding flame. The smell of ozone tickled Wanderlust’s nose as something started dragging him across the floor.
Craning his neck, Wanderlust found himself looking through a thin haze of smoke at the bare skull of a unicorn. He screamed by pure reflex and the skeletal unicorn slapped him across the face. Wanderlust silenced instantly: the hoof had been cold metal, not bone. It took him a moment to realize that the skeleton was paint: it was just a pony in some sort of suit. He relaxed, deciding that whoever this was, they couldn’t be worse than who they were saving him from.
The masked figure dragged him outside. The bodies of minotaurs littered the field surrounding the small building and the smell of charred flesh spoiled the sweet smell of night. Their strange savior slashed Wanderlust’s bindings with a knife and the dazed unicorn struggled to his feet. Casting a glance behind him, he saw two unicorns, backlit by weapons-fire, standing between themselves and the structure, slowly giving ground before dozens of minotaurs.
“This way!” The pony who had freed him screamed. Wanderlust started to look over his shoulder for Dawnfire. “She’s right behind you, come on!” The other pony barked with a tone that Wanderlust couldn’t help but obey and darted off into the night. Wanderlust followed as the mysterious pony bounded effortlessly over the unseen terrain, his strange metallic hoofsteps carrying through the semi-darkness.
Wanderlust wasn’t sure how far they had come when the strange unicorn led them into a small cave concealed in a copse of trees but he couldn’t have gone much farther. He slumped against a wall as soon as they were inside and gasped for breath.
“Name and rank.” Looking around, he couldn’t see the other pony: their savior was hidden in the shadows deeper in the cave. Wanderlust just stared blankly back. “Name and rank,” The unseen voice repeated, more forcefully this time. When it didn’t receive a response, there was a tired sigh. “Fine. It can wait for the moment, but when the others get back, you’re giving me an answer. I didn’t have time to remove your friend’s gag. You should probably help her with it.”
The three stood in silence until, with the soft metallic sound of hoofsteps, another unicorn entered the cave carrying Wanderlust and Dawnfire’s equipment. “Shadowstrike?” The voice from the darkness asked.
The newcomer shook his head. “A half-dozen Crimsons grabbed him and beat through his shields before I could react,” He said sadly. “I’m sorry.”
“Damn.” Was the unseen unicorn’s only response. His voice sounded completely empty of emotion, the tone another would use for ordering breakfast or commenting on the weather. There was a brief silence. “Any reason to think that they’ll search for us?”
“Last time they lost maybe a hundred soldiers and a dozen shuttles. They have more than enough minotaurs to go around, but they can’t replace that equipment. They won’t risk it again.”
“I agree. I think our guests will be more comfortable with some light. Cover up the entrance.”
“On it, Ell-Tee,” The other unicorn replied. He withdrew a thick square of folded cloth from a pouch and moved towards the entrance as a rustling sound drifted out of the depths of the cave.
Light flooded the cave from a small dome that the first stranger stuck to the ceiling. As Wanderlust blinked away spots, the strange unicorn looked to the cave entrance. “You’re sure about him?”
“You’ve seen what a minotaur can do up close, Val. I’m absolutely sure, and it wasn’t pretty.” The other replied, securing the cloth over the cave entrance.
The first unicorn, by this time it was obvious to Wanderlust that he was some sort of leader, drew a knife from a sheath on his shoulder and slowly scratched a line through the paint on his front left leg, leaving a thin line of silver across the black. There were over a dozen others already there. He re-sheathed the knife and approached Wanderlust.
“You’ve had enough time to recover. After all this time, somepony contacts us over the command channel with orders to divert to your location. We’ve been chasing a moving target for weeks, following directions verified by ancient codes, trying to secure ‘high-value personnel’.” The unicorn was in Wanderlust’s face now. In the light, he could see that the pony was clad almost head-to-hoof in black metal armor, adorned with the likeness of a pony skeleton. The gaps in the metal around joints and the neck were covered in thickly woven black fibers and his chest and back were covered in an assortment of pouches and an alarming array of knives. Attached to the unicorn’s back by metal joints were two irregular cylindrical devices; weapons of some sort. Wanderlust noted with unease that the flared guards for the joints of the pony’s front legs were sharpened like razors, as was the section of armor covering the horn. There wasn’t a single aspect of this pony that didn’t scream danger. “Now that I’ve lost a friend saving you, I want an answer. Who the fuck are you and why the fuck does somepony think you’re important enough to risk our lives for?”
Wanderlust sputtered something in response. The shock was starting to wear off and the reality of what had happened was slowly catching up with him. Staring into the hollow eyes of a skull, painted or not, was more than he could handle.
“Val,” The other unicorn said, “You have to have noticed that they don’t have IFF tags, right? I think they’re civvies.”
“That can’t be possible. We’ve been trying to reach what’s left of the Triumph garrison all this time. It doesn’t make any sense that they’d contact us out of the blue now and order us after a bunch of civilians.”
“If half of what that draconequus said is true, we’re all being played here.” Dawnfire said slowly as she pushed herself between Wanderlust and the armored unicorn.
“I wouldn’t trust a syllable that rolls off his forked tongue.” The leader, Wanderlust had heard the other unicorn call him Val, snarled.
“Then contact your superiors. Ask them what’s going on.”
“The mare makes a lot of sense, Val.” The second stranger agreed. Val looked between them once, sighed and stalked further back into the cave.
“My friend took a rather serious blow to the head. Do you have any medical equipment?” Dawnfire asked the nameless unicorn.
“Of course. Hold still a second.” The stranger pulled something out of a pouch and waved it next to Wanderlust’s head.
“How are you holding up, Wands?” Dawnfire asked softly, moving to stand closer to him.
“They killed him, Dawn. It was my job to protect him, and I let those monsters cut him down like he was nothing.”
“There was nothing you could’ve done, Wands. It wasn’t your fault.”
“He’s still just lying out there.” Tears were starting to fill the unicorn’s eyes as he thought of his friend lying alone in the cold. The sight of the earth pony’s eyes staring at him, full of pain and fear, haunted him. The sound as the sword entered his friend’s chest played through his mind over and over again. “We have to go back for him. We can’t just leave him out there. He deserves more than that.”
“Absolutely not,” Said the unicorn tending to Wanderlust. “They may not be coming after us, but you can be sure that they’ve set an ambush: it’s how the bastard thinks. We’ve all lost friends out here-”
“He hasn’t.” Dawnfire interrupted with a glare. “Can I have a minute to talk to him?”
“Sure. He’s perfectly fine. For what it’s worth, I’m very sorry about your friend.” With that, the stranger walked towards the back of the cave.
“We have to go back for him, Dawn. He deserves that much, at least.” Wanderlust whispered.
“We can’t, Wands. You have to let go.”
“Please, Dawn?” Wanderlust pleaded, his voice cracking.
“I’m so sorry, Wands.” Dawnfire rested a hoof on his shoulder. “Would Allegro really want you throwing your-”
“You were right,” A gruff voice interrupted. Wanderlust looked up and saw Val standing in front of them. “I couldn’t get an answer. Whoever was talking to us before, they’re not interested in talking to us now. I’m guessing that you can enlighten me on that, but introductions are probably in order first.”
There was a soft hiss and the unicorn removed the top half of his helmet, revealing blood-red fur, bright orange eyes and a mane shaved completely away. “Lieutenant Valiance, His Majesty’s Sixth Special Operations Group: The Blades of Dexis. This is corporal Autumn’s Splendor. Our scout, Northwind, is still out but she should be back soon.”
“I’m Dawnfire, this is Wanderlust. I haven’t had a chance to thank you for saving us yet.”
“You can pay us back by telling us what’s going on.”
Wanderlust had passed the point of caring. Hanging his head, he slowly walked to a far corner of the cave and lay on the cold ground. “Can it wait until morning?” He heard Dawnfire ask.
“Probably. Just be ready to leave in a hurry.” With that, Wanderlust heard two sets of metallic hoofsteps retreat further into the cave while softer steps approached him.
A soft rustling accompanied Dawnfire lowering herself to the ground next to him and gently covering him with a wing. “Dawn...” He tried to speak, but it just ended in a sputter.
“I know, Wands. I know.” She replied softly as the unicorn slowly cried himself to sleep.
*
“So you’re telling me that the Administrator is somewhere inside the facility’s computer network communicating with us?” Valiance asked incredulously.
“Assuming that that draconequus was being truthful.” Dawn replied.
“I suppose it always was one of the contingency plans. I’d always hoped to serve under him. The Admiral of the Fleets, The Hero of Endeavour-”
“The Butcher of Draconis IV?” Wanderlust asked dryly from his position near the wall.
Valiance shot him a glare. “That one fell out of favor after it became clear that Draconis IV had won us the war.”
“What is this war you keep talking about?” Dawnfire asked in exasperation.
Valiance stared at her like she’d just grown a second head. “You don’t know? Has that much really been forgotten?” The unicorn awkwardly scratched the back of his head with an armored hoof. “It started with the discovery of the draconequui. They were primitive, and we thought it was our duty to help them. We gave them everything we had, turned them into a spacefaring civilization almost overnight. They repaid us with fire. We had no concept of war, of violence. They burned our planets from orbit and moved on, killing us off in droves. By the time we could fight back, three trillion lives had been lost. I’m not sure how many we’ve lost since.
“We built this ring as the balance of power was shifting. The dragons had been all but forced out of the war, our technology had gained us an edge and we were learning how to use it. The draconequui took the ring from us less than a year later, though. It took us a long time to find it again after that.”
“You mean that there’s more help coming?” Oh, Celestia. I can let them handle it. I can just go home and pretend that this is all a bad dream. “There are others like you?”
Valiance took a deep breath. “The Emperor took the ring and ran. To him, it was the universe’s largest lifeboat. It was lost for close to two hundred years before we stumbled across it by accident. Forty-three warships carrying us and two divisions of Sentinels against the forces that the Emperor had squirreled away on the ring. Thirty-second division’s transport was taken out on approach. Third division’s transport was forced down by the rimwall defenses. We made it as far as the command center, but we were too badly outnumbered to-” His voice trailed off and his eyes went wide. “Mist...” He whispered, his eyes tearing up. “No, Mist, you can’t leave. You’re all I have left...”
Instantly a pegasus sprang from the other side of the cave and wrapped a wing around him. Wanderlust jumped: he hadn’t realized she was there. “Come on, Val. It’s okay. Just come with me.” She kept whispering to him quietly as she led him deeper into the cave.
Autumn coughed, trying to act like nothing had happened. He was a golden yellow that reminded Wanderlust of the yearly running of the leaves. “That was roughly three thousand, seven hundred years ago, local time. The ring has been moving close to the speed of light all this time: on the outside, it’s been almost twice that long. I’m afraid there’s no hope of help at this point.”
“Almost four thousand years? How is that possible?” Dawnfire asked, staring wide-eyed at the unicorn.
“We have ways of prolonging life. Injection of a colony of tiny AI-controlled robots that repair cellular damage can effectively protect against aging and most disease. One treatment is good for about five thousand years. The same sort of technology allows for our equipment to maintain itself in the field for Millennia.”
“Could I step outside for a few minutes?” Both Dawn and Autumn jumped at Wanderlust’s voice.
“I suppose. Just stay close.” The soldier ordered. Wanderlust was halfway outside the cave by the time Dawnfire caught up.
“What is this about, Wands?” She hissed at him as they passed through the cloth covering the cave entrance.
“I need to try something.”
“What exactly?” Wanderlust stayed silent. “You’re scaring me, Wands. What is this all about?”
“I’ll explain in a few minutes.” The pegasus glared at him but followed along. Wanderlust stopped in the shadow of a large tree and closed his eyes, concentrating on reaching out to the ring, feeling the magic pulsing through it. Come on you bastard. You’ve been poking around inside my head for weeks. For once I’m inviting you in. With alarm, Wanderlust sensed a tendril of magical energy reach out to him from the ring and it took all his willpower not to fight it as it snaked into his mind.
*
“The Butcher of Draconis IV, I presume?” Wanderlust was too angry to be phased by the fact that he was suddenly standing in the midst of a featureless, endless nothingness, alone save for a silver unicorn backlit by a flickering ball of light.
“Not the accolade I prefer, but not one I shy away from,” The other unicorn replied stoically. “What I did saved countless lives, turned the war in our favor. It could be said that that one act saved the Kingdom, and our entire race. I would do it again a thousand times without the slightest hesitation.”
“How could you do it? How could you kill so many of them and not feel anything?”
“They were dragons,” The silver unicorn replied, calmly adjusting the collar of his spotless, black jacket.
“They were innocent!” Wanderlust objected.
“Innocent?” The silver pony glared at him, his eyes smoldering as if Wanderlust’s words had been a personal insult. “My ship took a hit over Redemption and we had to abandon it. I spent three weeks on the ground fighting with the Sentinels before they were forced back.”
Wanderlust’s vision swam and he was suddenly bathed in horrific sounds and images. He was running through the rubble-choked streets of a dying city. Entire districts were ablaze, filling the sky with clouds of smoke, blocking the sun and replacing it with the hellish light of the growing inferno. Dark shapes flitted between the clouds and the sound of his own gasps for breath competed with the reports of weapons and the gut-wrenching screams of the dying.
Rounding a corner, he was just in time to see a massive black dragon settle roughly into the median of a wide boulevard, snapping a half-dozen dead, dry trees beneath it. Only a few feet ahead of it was a mare clutching a tiny foal to her chest. Wanderlust watched in horror as the dragon opened its jaws and spewed forth a torrent of flame towards the mare, who was desperately trying to shield her child from their onrushing death.
Time stopped as the flames were bare inches from them. Wanderlust was just an observer as he walked across the street and approached them. The silver unicorn appeared at his shoulder. “This is what I think of every time I feel the barest hint of remorse. Look into their eyes and then talk to me about innocence.” Against his will, Wanderlust gazed into the mare’s eyes and saw terror. She knew that she was going to die, that there was nothing she could do for her child. The unicorn had to fight the urge to retch.
“Get out of my head, you bastard,” Wanderlust growled.
“I came at your invitation. You’re stuck with me until I’ve said what I came to say.” The other pony replied. Wanderlust blinked and he was once again standing in blackness.
“The dreams I’ve been having. Your doing?” It was more a statement than a question: Wanderlust had ceased having any doubts moments before.
“Yes. Events pulled from my own experiences and the archived records within the ring’s systems. I was trying to help you understand just what you were about to stumble into.”
“Why not just tell me?”
“My abilities are limited and remotely accessing the mind of a sentient creature is a tricky thing. Even when you’re asleep, the mind resists. Unless your guard is completely down, the best I can do is implant a few thoughts here and there.” There was a short silence as the silver pony stared him down. “Go ahead, ask.”
“You were the one communicating with Valiance’s team? Guiding him towards me?” Wanderlust asked coldly.
“Yes.”
“You disabled the engines in our ship?”
“Over the ruins of Iniba, yes.”
“Why?” Anger was slowly creeping into Wanderlust’s voice.
“I needed to get you to Valiance as quickly as possible. I was unaware that Rafaldin’s forces were already so close to you.”
“So you’ve been pulling my strings this entire time?”
“I’ve been trying to give you a chance at success.”
“Semantics.” Wanderlust stomped a few steps away. “Why Valiance?” He asked, not looking back.
“He and his team are the only true allies you can count on. They have Millennia of experience, unparalleled training and equipment that puts anything else on the ring to shame. Without his help, you would have no chance of doing what needs to be done. You should be happy: he also gives you the opportunity to obtain something you desperately want at the moment.”
“Do you really think you know what I want?”
“It’s the same thing I want: revenge. I can help you achieve it, and so can the lieutenant.”
Wanderlust had to admit that the unicorn had struck a chord there. There’s still one more question to be asked, though. “Why was I chosen for this?”
“I don’t know why the Overseers picked you. All I know is that you’re the first pony I’ve been able to contact in all this time other than the Lieutenant’s team. I have a plan. It’s taken over three thousand years of planning, three thousand years of subtle manipulation, three thousand years of whittling away at the Oathbreaker’s resources, but I’ve finally put all the pieces into place. Everything is set to retake this ring, but I can’t do it alone. What I can do is guide you to the right place, at the right time.”
“So he was telling you the truth. All I am to you is a puppet.”
“Not the term I would use.”
“I am nopony’s puppet,” Wanderlust snarled, stalking back towards the silver pony. “He knows you’re communicating with me. He’s using you to track me. I think I’m better off without your help.”
“He is not as powerful as he believes, Wanderlust, and he sees only what I want him to,” The silver pony said, seemingly not caring that the younger unicorn was inches from his face. “For example, he doesn’t know that two thousand years ago, I found a way to reactivate the orbital batteries. I can turn any section of this ring to dust within minutes. I have other abilities that I’ve kept hidden from him, and now that things are in motion, I can hide you from him. I’ve had to play this close to my chest, but by now I think he’s confident enough that losing you won’t worry him.”
“I don’t want your help.”
“Either you take my help, or you fail. I can’t risk that. Do you know why he cares so much about your little corner of the ring? Because behind those walls are a few million ponies who have never been under his control, who aren’t under the control of any of the other factions fighting for control. We have the makings of an army hidden behind those mountains: the kind of force that can retake this ring, and he knows it. He also knows that he can turn them. He’s done it before. Legions of our own fought for him in the war. Lost, tortured souls. He’s perfected the art of corrupting us.
“I’ve cut his resources down to almost nothing. He can feel his hold on the ring slipping through his fingers. With your home, he can reclaim control, and if you fail, that’s what will happen. I’ve come too far to allow that. I’ll burn your home to the ground before I let that happen: every city, every village, every last pony, all dust.”
Wanderlust stared at him, aghast. “You monster. You’d murder them all?”
“More of a mercy killing, really.” The silver pony replied without batting an eyelash.
“So you’re saying that I don’t have a choice?”
“There’s always a choice. In this case, though, there’s only one option that gives you a happy ending.”
Wanderlust glared at him for a few long moments before dropping his head and taking a deep breath. “What’s our next move?”
“There’s a city some distance to spinward of you. Take the Lieutenant and head there. I’ll give you more information when you get closer.”
“How exactly will I get Valiance to believe all this?”
“Tell him about your home, what you’re trying to do, what I’ve told you to do. Then, tell him, ‘And so the gods gazed down upon the world and saw their temples razed. Their tempers flared, and their teeth were bared as they did respond in kind.’”
Wanderlust cocked an eyebrow. “What does that mean, exactly?”
“The Lieutenant will know.”
Wanderlust took another deep breath, resigned to his fate, before speaking again, his voice filled with acid. “May I ask the name of my puppeteer?”
“Silver Star. My name is Admiral Silver Star.” The other pony said, then Wanderlust’s vision went black and he felt as if he were falling.
*
“Wanderlust.” The unicorn’s eyes snapped open at the sound of Dawn’s voice. He was back in the grove of trees with the pegasus standing next to him, an odd look of concern on her face. “Are you alright? You were shaking.”
“I’ll be fine. Come on, I need to talk to Valiance.”
Once back inside the cave, they found the red pony back to his normal glowering self. He listened in silence as Wanderlust explained about Equestria, about what he was going to do, about what Silver Star had said. When he was finished, Valiance stared at him for several long seconds. “Why exactly should I believe a word of that?”
Wanderlust took a deep breath and repeated what the admiral had told him to, speaking slowly, making sure to get every word right.
Valiance’s eyes grew wider with each word, and he had a faraway look by the time Wanderlust finished. “How? Bu-bu...” His sputtering trailed off and he stared in shock at the younger unicorn.
“You can’t seriously believe this, can you Val?” Autumn asked. “He could’ve heard that anywhere.”
“That particular line, Autumn? Where would he have heard it, from one of the other veterans of Juggernaut just wandering around the ring?” Valiance snapped as he moved towards the side of the cave. He rested his head against the wall and closed his eyes. “No, we were sworn to secrecy, and there’s only one other pony on the ring who might possibly know the meaning behind those words. Our computers would’ve synced with Triumph as we approached, correct?”
“Right.” Autumn confirmed, sounding uneasy.
“Then that leaves only one possibility. He’s telling the truth.”
“I have to go with Val on this one, Autumn.” The new voice startled Wanderlust. Somehow he’d managed to forget about the pegasus, Northwind, again. She had a playful voice, a coat the color of gathering storm clouds, deep blue eyes and a mane that was shaved completely away, just like the other two. “As weird as it seems, I think the colt’s telling the truth.”
“So where does that leave us?” Valiance asked quietly, almost to himself.
“I’m not sure how this changes anything, Val.” Autumn replied. “Why is this our problem?”
“This is business, corporal. Right now it’s ‘Sir’ or ‘Lieutenant’.”
“You can’t be serious, V-” The red pony silenced him with a glare. Autumn coughed and continued. “Sir, my point is that the chain of command’s been shot to hell for a long time. As far as Equestria is concerned, we’ve been KIA for a few thousand years. Let the kid save his own home: we should be trying to get back to ours.”
“Not a side of you I’ve seen before, Autumn.” Northwind noted quietly.
“I don’t know about you, North, but I miss my home. I’d like to see it again someday.”
“My home is ash, Autumn.” The pegasus said sadly.
The yellow unicorn turned bright red. “Right, I’m sorry. Things slip the mind sometimes...” He trailed off.
“I know,” Northwind replied softly. “I get it, too.”
“Autumn, what’s our first standing order?” Valiance asked abruptly from the far side of the cave.
“Civilian lives take priority, no matter what.”
“Was that order ever rescinded?”
“Sir, it’s been-”
Valiance cut him off. “Was that order ever rescinded?”
“No, sir.” Autumn admitted reluctantly.
“Then it’s decided.” Valiance pulled away from the wall. “We have an unknown number of civilians in danger. It’s our responsibility to do whatever we can for them.” He looked back to Wanderlust. “I think the city the Admiral was referring to is Tinx. We’ll leave at nightfall. Welcome to the War of Broken Souls, Wanderlust.”
Quick note from the author: Two quick things: first, I’m sorry to say that my update schedule will probably slow down a bit from now on, just because things have gotten a bit busy for me. I do know exactly where I’m taking the story, though, and I’ll keep working to update as often as I can. Secondly, I just wanted to let you know that I’d love to hear what you think about the story so far: what I’m doing right, what I can improve, that sort of thing. My editor and I do our best to get each chapter as close to perfect as we can before release, but every bit of feedback helps.