How could it have all gone so wrong?
This was the thought that echoed through Will Iredet's head as he fled from the one he loved. She hunted him. Hated him, and that stung worse than any knife, any venom.
Darting between two trees, he dodged a blast of magic meant for him, though he knew it wouldn't have killed him. Though to stumble might mean seeing her face, and his heart could not bear that sorrow. If she were to catch him, he would have to face her wrath.
"Celestia..." He choked out between sobs, then a small laugh. "Why have thou forsaken me?"
Another blast of magic turned the tree next to him into wooden shrapnel. He doubted she got the joke. He continued to run. He could have flown, transformed and escaped. Not even Celestia could hope to keep up with him while he bore wings. Yet his internal fire, his light, felt dim. Nearly extinguished.
The sound of her hoofsteps stopped. She had given up the chase.
"If all you want to do is flee and cower, so be it! It's not like you ever did anything else!" She called out.
The words hurt, but Will continued to run. He had to fix this. If only he knew how. His grip tightened around the last item in his possession, a relic from an age long past.
But how had it ended up in a museum? A weapon like this... Will thought, rubbing his thumb over the sliver revolver, noting the odd symbol engraved in several places on the gun. A firearm like this, in such a peaceful place? No, it came from somewhere else.
Will had stolen it as had fled Canterlot from Princess Celestia. Sadly it wasn't the only reason she was after his blood.