They ran for what felt like hours from the beach, putting as much distance between themselves and the city as they could. They stuck to the road in the woods as much as possible, though it began to give out after a few minutes. At length, the six were forced to stop through sheer exhaustion, though they forced themselves to keep going long enough to get off of the road and into the thick forest that framed it, though they made sure to stay close enough to the road to keep an eye upon it.
They were all breathing heavily, even Raindrops, the most physically fit, but also physically beat-up, of the six of them. A few bruises and welts were already showing through her coat. “Those don’t look too good,” Trixie noted. Cheerilee, meanwhile, took to keeping an eye on the road.
“Hang on,” Carrot Top said after a moment of catching her breath as she looked Raindrops over, then slid off her saddlebags and started rummaging through them. She came up with a bottle of rubbing alcohol, a cloth, and a number of small, tightly sealed packages and a bowl and grindstone. Raindrops offered no objection beyond the occasional wince of pain as Lyra took the rubbing alcohol and cloth and got to work seeing to her, dabbing her cuts, while Carrot Top unpacked a few of her packages and poured them into the bowl, beginning to grind them together. “Anypony got water?”
“Some,” Ditzy said as she fished through her own saddlebags and produced a waterskin. Carrot Top added a few drops to her bowl, turning her mix into a paste. She used her hoof to apply the paste to the worst of Raindrops’ wounds, though it was Ditzy that produced the actual bandage wraps to make sure the paste stayed on and didn’t dribble.
“There,” Carrot Top said, letting out a slight sigh. “That should help with any pain. Speed the healing process too, maybe.”
Raindrops grunted out a thanks, closing her eyes tightly and focusing on breathing. Carrot Top nodded, understanding that Raindrops was most certainly genuinely thankful – but also that her anger issues had been pulled to the fore today, and that a large part of her wanted to just start trampling the nearest thing underhoof until she anger was spent. She needed a few minutes at least to rein herself in. Carrot Top, instead, turned to look at everypony else. “Anypony else got any cuts or bruises?” she asked. “There’s plenty of this stuff left.”
They all needed it to some greater or lesser extent, even Trixie, who had come through with the least amount of physical pain, though both she and Lyra still had headaches from whatever Corona had done to them. Carrot Top, meanwhile, grimaced as Ditzy finished helping her tie a bandage around one of her own bruises. “We’re not very good at this, are we?” she asked.
Cheerilee smiled grimly. “We’re knights, not soldiers,” she said.
“I thought knights were supposed to be good at fighting dragons.”
“Maybe once upon a time. These days they mostly just go to parties and worry about the lettering on their business cards.” Cheerilee sighed after a moment. “You’re right. We need to get better at this whole ‘defending the realm’ thing…”
“One thing at a time,” Lyra said. Her hooves were gently gliding across her lyre in nervousness, though she made sure to keep the notes barely audible. After a moment, though, she brightened, and her horn glowed as she reached into her saddlebags and produced brown paper bag. “We escaped. Celebratory candy?”
---
For being bipedal, the golems were fast. Bray was not used to running anywhere, least of all through the forest that had once been his homeland. Was all this the result of the King’s Forest – his – spiraling out of control in his absence? This land should have been cleared and pastured, growing hay and grapes and whatever else it was that farmers grew for the city. Had nothing really thought to settle the island? On the one hoof he was grateful enough that he wouldn’t have to devote energy to evicting squatters, but on the other it seemed like a terrible waste.
The lead golem was moving close to the road, its gemstone eyes focused on the faint magical trail. It was a trail that was, unfortunately, growing increasingly diffuse. They had been tracking the magic of the earth ponies, their hooves leaving behind the faintest trace that could be followed, but after nearly four hours the trail was at last gone.
(Bray had needed to make a few stops on the way to catch his breath. The golems had stopped moving at his command, of course, giving no objection, but they had just stood there, staring at him, until he had ordered them to move again. It was unnerving in the extreme).
“The magic trail – has ceased – Prince Bray,” the golem informed the donkey.
Bray grimaced at that, touching a hoof to his chin and scratching it in thought. Grogar would have his head on a pike if he returned empty-hoofed, but he hadn’t the slightest clue where to start scouring the island, as no matter how small it was, it was still quite a lot to search, especially with the forest to consider. He glanced to the thirteen golems with him. “Spread out,” he decided after a moment. “You three,” he pointed to two at random, “remain with me. The rest of you split into teams of two and scour the island. If you find the ponies, don’t attack – ”
“That – conflicts with – the Master’s – commands – Prince Bray,” the lead golem objected.
Bray snarled. “And who is your commander?” he demanded. “Grogar put me in charge of you rag-doll cretins! And if you would let me finish: don’t attack the ponies. Instead, one of you keep following, the other come back for me. We’ll gather all of you puppets and attack them together. Understand?”
The golems were silent for a moment, but then bowed their heads as one. “Orders – acknowledged – Prince Bray,” the lead golem said. In a flash, the ten he had ordered to spread out were gone, while the remaining three golems stood silently beside Bray, waiting for additional orders.
Bray whickered in annoyance as he began trotting down the road, and the three golems followed. “Conflicts with the master’s orders, Prince Bray,” he mocked in a low voice. “If he’s so great how come he can’t make you speak properly?” The stitched golems made no response, and Bray only rolled his eyes as he continued to trot, glancing around occasionally. It was no good – the forest was too thick. After about ten minutes of trotting, he was just about willing to start giving up, when there was a boom from overhead.
Bray let out a yelp, starting to gallop, the golems following, out of well-ingrained instinct before his conscious mind was able to tell him that it was probably just Luna trying to break down the shield again, something that was confirmed when he glanced up and saw a ripple spreading across it. He had just begun to slow down, when from his right, there was a flash of golden and blue magic, and the three golems following him crumpled, not having time to react. Spinning around with wide eyes, he saw six ponies mares – two from each of their tribes – emerge suddenly from the underbrush. A jasmine pegasus and two earth ponies, one yellow and one magenta, were on the golems before they could rise to defend themselves, trampling them underhoof until their gemstone eyes stopped glowing. Then they turned to him.
---
The donkey stared at the six of them in confusion, mouth opening and closing a few times, before he let out a low groan. “Ohhhh no,” he said, trembling slightly and backing up several steps. “Oh no, oh no, you’re gonna – you’re gonna – oh please don’t hurt me! Please!”
The donkey threw himself to his knees and hocks, front hooves pressed together and over his head in surrender. Ditzy was beside him in an instant. “Hey, hey, calm down,” she said, her tone mothering as she gently lay a hoof on his shoulder. He flinched, and switched to staying ducked down, hooves over his head. “Calm down,” Ditzy insisted. “We’re not going to hurt you.”
Lyra nodded in confirmation, as Raindrops ground one hoof into the back of a golem’s head a little more enthusiastically than could be considered normal. The mint unicorn chose to ignore it as she focused on the donkey in front of her. “We saw those golems chasing you,” she said. “Come on, we should get off the road before any more show up…”
The donkey looked up at them. “Oh thank you!” he exclaimed, eagerly following the six to their makeshift camp. “I – oh, I thought they’d found me! It was terrible!”
Their camp wasn’t much to look at – a tiny sward, no more than ten feet across, that had somehow managed to not have any trees growing in it. Their saddlebags were arranged in a rough circle at the end furthest from the road, half-unpacked as they had begun to take stock of their supplies. There wasn’t much – a few light snacks and water skins, some minor first-aid supplies, and Lyra’s own lyre. They hadn’t expected to need anything at all, however, so Lyra counted them as lucky to have even as much as they did.
Lyra glanced the donkey over. He looked a mess – he wore a red turban with a blue feather and white gem set into it, though the turban was loose and the feather wilting. He also wore a long robe that was frayed at its edges. Looped through one ear was a gold earring. His eyes contained no small measure of panic that was not offset at all by Ditzy trying her best to comfort him.
Trixie eyed the donkey. While she’d leaped to destroy those golems they’d seen chasing after him as quickly as the rest of them, now that they were down, she looked more than a little suspicious. “Okay, first thing’s first,” she said. “How come you speak Equestrian?”
The donkey eyed her. “I – I don’t know,” he admitted. “I just – aren’t we speaking Donkey? Who are you?”
Trixie’s gaze softened at his obvious confusion. “Trixie,” she said, then went around and introduced the rest. “That’s Carrot Top, Lyra, Cheerilee, Ditzy, and Raindrops. You?”
“Bray,” the donkey introduced himself after a moment, eyeing their packs, and more specifically the food there. “Um – can I…?” Ditzy nodded at once, taking one of her own snacks – a muffin, of course – and hoofing it over. Bray all but inhaled it. “Oh, it’s been too long since I had real food…”
“Yeah, about that…” Trixie said. “How are you, um…here?”
“Trixie,” Ditzy warned, one eye on her while the other remained on Bray.
Trixie shook her head and made a cutting motion with one hoof. “No. Nuh-uh. Last time we were in a bad spot and we trusted somepony – sorry, somebody – we’d just met, it was Zecora, and we all remember how that ended. I get to be paranoid.”
“I’m with Trixie on this one,” Cheerilee put forth. “I’m not saying we should truss him up and leave him or anything. But I’d like to know more about him.”
Bray finished the muffin, and nodded at Trixie and Cheerilee. “I…it’s okay,” he said. “I’m…I’m a survivor. I’m the survivor. I…I don’t know how. I was in…in a magic circle when Grogar…when it happened. I was protected.” He looked down. “I hid. I hid for a long time. Then everything was dark and cold, mist everywhere outside of the city…I’ve…I’ve had to hide. Steal food. Those golems don’t have to eat, but Grogar still does. Has a garden he maintained with magic. B…but then, all of this has happened. The sky’s back to normal…” he looked up at the shield that stretched over the horizon, “basically, anyway…and so I ran. I ran into the forest. Then those golems appeared and they were chasing after me and I thought they’d finally caught me…and then you appeared.”
Ditzy’s eyes were wide as dinner plates and both focused on Bray by the end of his story, and she had both hooves to her mouth. “You…you’ve been by yourself…hunted and alone…for two th – ”
“More than a year?” Lyra interrupted quickly, stepping up next to Bray. He flinched back, but then nodded. Ditzy glanced at Lyra in annoyance, and Lyra leaned in close to her. “New foal trying to stand,” she whispered. “Just for now. Two thousand years is a lot to take in…”
Ditzy considered a moment, then sighed and nodded. “Good point,” she said, then shook her head, looking back to Bray. “That’s horrible, though,” she said. “Did Princess Luna know about you?”
Bray considered, looking between the six of them. “I…I think she did,” he said. “It’s okay. I don’t blame her. Necessary sacrifice.”
Ditzy’s look became hard then. Trixie quickly stepped up to her. “Ditzy, I know Luna,” she said. “She would not banish Tambelon if she thought there were any survivors from what Grogar did in it.”
Ditzy looked to Trixie. “You sure?” she asked. “Times change, remember? Maybe Luna back then would have.”
Trixie opened her mouth, but Raindrops was between the two of them instantly, pushing each away from the other. “We can discuss this later,” she insisted. “Right now, we need to focus on staying alive.”
“On that note,” Carrot Top said, looking Bray over, “are you hurt? You don’t look too bad for somepony who’s spent the last year hiding…”
Bray shook his head. “I’m fine. I have a little magic of my own.” He reached up and placed two hooves on either side of the gem set into his turban. It flashed slightly, though nothing happened. After a moment more of trying but getting no results, he smiled sheepishly. “A little,” he repeated.
“Well, that’s okay,” Lyra said. “We only have to last a day, maybe less. Then Luna will bring down the shield and we can escape.”
“We should move now, though,” Cheerilee said, as she began packing up what little she had taken from her saddlebags. “At least we shouldn’t camp out so near to where we destroyed those golems.”
Bray’s eyes widened, and his ears dipped low. “M-move?” he demanded. “No, wait – this is the perfect hiding spot! Isn’t it?”
“Not anymore,” Cheerilee said. “Don’t worry, as long as you’re with us, you should be fine – ”
“B-b-but, we just got here, and – ”
“Look, we have to move, now, before – ”
The world went white for a moment. Lyra’s eyes widened as it did, though before she could say anything, it had re-appeared…though it was different. The forest was gone, replaced by hilly, tall-grassed pastures that seemed to fill most of the island, right out to its beaches and cliffs. The road was no longer dirt with the occasional stone poking out, but rather genuine cobbled stone. In the distance, Lyra could see a walled city; glancing around her, she saw her five friends, plus Bray, who was looking around in wide-eyed confusion.
“One of these again,” Cheerilee noted. “Stars above, the Princess was right about them being inconvenient…”
“Not much we can do – ” Ditzy began. Then she screamed in horror, wings beating and taking her into the air. Everypony instinctively dashed away in the direction Ditzy was staring, at least until she stopped herself, hooves at her mouth as she stared. Lyra chanced a glance, and saw, lying in the grass, something brown-furred, with long ears, slightly bucked teeth, and open, staring eyes. It was a donkey, a jack. He didn’t look much older than Lyra. And he wasn’t moving.
In another moment, Ditzy was beside the fallen jack, Carrot Top next, and the remaining four ponies a moment after that. But nopony could do anything – every time they tried to touch the jack, to move him, their hooves passed through him.
“I-it’s a memory,” Raindrops said, as shaken as the rest of them as she stared. “He…he’s dead. He’s been dead for two thousand years. There’s nothing we can do.”
Ditzy had tears in her eyes as she landed, next to Trixie. Trixie didn’t waste any time in wrapping her hooves around the distraught pegasus, who herself didn’t waste any time in burying her face in Trixie’s neck and sobbing. With monumental effort, the rest of them turned from the donkey jack, closing their eyes, determined to just ignore everything until the memory passed. Lyra glanced at Bray, who’s eyes were wide.
“Dead! All of them!” Bray exclaimed in anger. After a moment, however, Lyra realized that Bray’s mouth hadn’t moved – and that his voice had come from the opposite direction.
Lyra turned, and her eyes grew. “Uh…girls…” she intoned at what she saw.
Trotting up the road was Bray, though he looked different – his turban, his robes, all much more well-kept. He wore a look of anger on his face as he glanced around.
And following behind him was a massive ram with glowing red eyes and sharpened teeth – Grogar, or a memory of him, anyway. He was looking past the donkey he followed, out to sea, and completely ignored the ponies and, for that matter, the dead jack. Bray – the memory of Bray, rather – trotted up to the fallen jack, using a hoof to push him around a few times, before letting out grunt of disgust. “Dead too,” he noted, and turned to Grogar. “What is the meaning of this, Grogar? Explain yourself!”
Grogar didn’t speak or move other than to squint slightly. Bray took exception to that as he stomped his forehooves. “You killed them all! The entire kingdom!” he shouted. “That wasn’t what was supposed to happen! You were only supposed to kill my father and siblings and any ponies on the island! I was supposed to rule a kingdom, not a graveyard!”
Grogar didn’t turn to look at the donkey. “O Prince Bray – ”
“King!” Bray exclaimed, stomping a hoof again. “King! My father is dead, my older siblings are dead – I am King of Tambelon!”
“What kind of king are you if you don’t have a kingdom?” Grogar asked, half-heartedly nodding his head in the direction of the fallen jack. Bray sputtered, and Grogar at length looked to him. “I used you. The hundred ponies that called Tambelon home only sweetened the bargain, I’m afraid. The life-force of all ten thousand Tamberlaan, regardless of race…that was the true goal, always.”
Bray stumbled backwards, eyes wide. “Ten…ten thousand souls…wasted on you…”
“Unfortunately not. Souls can only be traded willingly. It was merely the life-force that animated their beings and tethered their souls to their bodies that I collected. A fine bargain, regardless. More than nine thousand donkeys, a hundred ponies, the odd griffin or camel…yes. It will do nicely.”
Bray sat down heavily, hooves at his head. “No,” he hissed. “No, no, no! You promised that I would be king of the Tamberlaan! King! You promised, Grogar!”
Grogar looked back and out to sea. “If you absolutely insist,” he said, cocking his head towards the water, “there are survivors; the furthest edge of the island was untouched. They are even now fleeing to the mainland. I can see them from here. There’s…oh, maybe five hundred. Maybe more. Go to them. You are the last surviving member of the royal house. You are their rightful king. No doubt that the quality of your blood will set aside all differences, make them forget all your past mistakes. Including the fact that it was you who brought me here, you who introduced me to your late father.”
Grogar turned and started trotting towards the city. “When you have made your choice, Prince Bray…I shall await you back in the palace. I have much work ahead of me…”
The world faded to white again, and then once more back into reality. The six ponies had moved closer to the road, but were staring with wide eyes at where the memories of Grogar and Bray had been. Slowly – reluctantly – they turned to regard the real Bray.
He was standing, and a change had come over him. His head was held a little lower, his eyes were narrowed, his ears folded back, and his lips curled in a disdainful sneer. Flanking him were two of the stitched golems, and eight more appeared all around the ponies, emerging from the forest and standing hunched and waiting.
Bray smiled. It was wholly unpleasant. “I had hoped to wait until you were asleep, but oh well. Golems – attack.”
“We – obey – Prince Bray.”
---
The golems rushed in, and Ditzy Doo let out a whinny of fright as she reared back in surprise, lashing out with her front hooves. The closest golem to her checked its charge and fell back before Ditzy could strike her, while the second-closest leaped over her, trying to get behind her, to flank her. She beat her wings, still stiff but largely recovered, as she tried to fly up and out of the way: Raindrops and Cheerilee were both much better at fighting that she was. Unfortunately, the golems could leap exceptionally well – one of them jumped from under her, coming up with teeth gnashing like some kind of shark. Ditzy struck out with a hind hoof as best she could, and hit the golem in the chin, sending it sprawling. It was up in a moment, however, already seeking a new target.
Trixie had immediately created illusory copies of herself, which scattered, some running away, some pretending to cast spells. Ditzy had no idea which one was the real Trixie, or even if the real Trixie hadn’t simply turned herself invisible. The illusions fooled the golems for several moments, during which one had is head torn off by Raindrops, but then as one the golems suddenly began to ignore any copy of Trixie excepting if it was making a direct attack – apparently resolving to deal with the ponies they knew were real first.
Raindrops and Cheerilee were fighting as best they could, but the golems seemed to have taken their measure. They were careful to avoid Raindrops, only trying to attack her from behind, one of them often serving as bait to draw her in while one or two more would circle around. Cheerilee soon found herself tied down completely defending Raindrops’ back as the jasmine pegasus invariably took the golems’ bait. For their part, the golems could bend and twist in ways no pony living creature could match, and made use of this surprising agility to avoid every attempted blow from the schoolteacher.
Carrot Top was with Lyra, meanwhile. The mint unicorn had picked up a fallen tree branch with her magic and was swinging it around, warding golems away and trying to make her way to her lyre. Carrot Top was lashing out at any that got too close. Then three rushed from three sides, and Carrot Top only noticed one of them while Lyra dealt with just one more, the third, meanwhile, raised its claws to bring them down on the mint unicorn’s back. Lyra didn’t notice until it was too late.
Ditzy did, however. She had flown over, and landed on the golem’s back with all the force she could muster, sending it sprawling. Carrot Top whinnied in fright when she noticed it, and quickly dived forward, landing on the golems’ head and stomping down until it stopped trying to get up. Ditzy, meanwhile, bucked to ward off another, as she looked to Lyra. “Lyre!” she shouted: Lyra’s spellsongs were the edge that they needed to win this. Lyra acknowledged Ditzy by dashing towards her saddlebags. A golem rushed after her, but before it could strike her it suddenly stumbled over something and fell to the ground, then went flying away as though wrapped in an invisible telekinetic aura – Trixie, no doubt, invisible but by no means not helping.
Lyra’s hooves closed on her lyre, and she stood on two legs swiftly, a difficult pose for most ponies to maintain but one that she’d spent years practicing. Ditzy had little time to appreciate it as another golem leapt at her; she and Carrot Top both bucked at it, and it stumbled. It recovered far faster than they had anticipated, however, and leapt at them low, looking to slice out their legs.
That was when there was a loud thrum, and the golem got knocked back as though hit by a charging rhino. Ditzy glanced and saw Lyra’s horn glowing bright, holding her lyre aloft telekinetically as her hooves danced across it. In the heat of battle, with her friends in danger, she wasn’t playing true spellsongs, simply two- or three-note melodies that seemed to augment her normal telekinesis, focusing it into a solid blast of sound that sent the golems flying. Ditzy let out a whoop of joy, and another when Lyra turned herself towards Bray – who had sat out of the battle, watching it with a grim smile – and lashed out with magic.
Bray, however, was not intimidated. He grit his teeth and the gem set into his turban glowed – and the blast of Lyra’s magic suddenly bounced harmlessly off of a white, magical shield. Lyra’s eyes widened as she struck out with more magic, but Bray’s own magic stopped each of her blows. He raised a hoof and flicked it at her, and tendrils of white energy struck at Lyra, knocking her back – and her lyre from her grasp – before pulling her forward and towards Bray. He stopped her flight with an outstretched hoof, holding her in the air.
“You bone-headed foal!” he exclaimed, throwing her to the ground at his hooves and kicking her once. Lyra cried out in pain, but didn’t have time to do more than that when Bray kicked her a second time in the back of her head, knocking her unconscious. Bray glanced up and smiled, waving another hoof and casting magic across the small battlefield. Trixie suddenly blinked into existence, eyes widening but having no time to react to a backhand blow from one golem that sent her sprawling. Raindrops, meanwhile, was panting heavily, covered in small cuts. She was still fighting, but beginning to falter. Cheerilee was similarly exhausted, and didn’t quite move fast enough to avoid a blow that sent her tumbling into Raindrops, knocking both over. The golems attacking Carrot Top and Ditzy were growing bolder as well, one scoring a blow across Ditzy’s side that she only barely managed to avoid serious harm from; it still left her with a long line of red.
Bray laughed as he looked down at the unconscious Lyra, placing a hoof on her side. “Well, I have my captive,” he noted. “Kill the remainder.” He glanced up at the five remaining ponies as they struggled but gradually began to lose. “I was an heir to the throne of Tambelon, you short-eared nags! My magic is utterly beyond yours – ”
There was fire.
Ditzy cried out as she dropped to her stomach, hooves over her head to press her mane down, as a line of fire cut through the golem in front of her. The golem burst into flames instantly. It turned in the direction the fire came from, heedless of the flames, but its body collapsed after taking a single step towards whatever had attacked it, its body providing more than ample fuel.
Bray’s eyes widened as two more golems were struck by gouts of flame before the golems fully registered the threat and retreated backwards, towards Bray. Ditzy looked herself, and saw a white-coated alicorn, eyes fairly glowing with power, and flames danced through her pink mane and tail and at her hooves.
“But it is not beyond mine,” Corona declared.
Bray sputtered a few moments, before glancing to the six golems that yet remained. “Attack!” he ordered. “Attack! Now!”
The golems surged forward. Corona’s eyes narrowed at the sight, and her horn glowed bright gold as the flames on her body flared up, fully consuming her. The first golem to reach her simply exploded, while the next was dispatched with a flick of Corona’s horn that completely bisected it. The remaining golems paused to assess the situation, which proved to be their undoing – four quick blasts consumed them. Corona turned then to Bray.
“You live?” she hissed, ignoring the ponies as she stepped forward. “You dare to still draw breath?!”
Bray’s mouth worked, but no sound came out other than a yelp when Corona lowered her head and charged. Ditzy felt the heat of her passing acutely, and she was sure that her fur was singed; Raindrops had to dive out of the way to avoid her. Bray, meanwhile, dived forward, landing atop Lyra as the gem in his turban glowed. In a flash, he disappeared – as did Lyra, though the Element of Loyalty remained behind.
Corona passed through where Bray had been – and with far less grace than Ditzy expected. Indeed, the Tyrant Sun stumbled when she slowed, dropping down to her knees as the flames around her body suddenly died, leaving behind only smoke. She was breathing heavily, and her wings sagged.
Ditzy was aware of her friends gathering near her. She and Raindrops both had raised wings, ready to fly in a moment. “The Elements – ” Cheerilee began, but she choked on her own words when she saw the Element of Loyalty lying by itself, where Bray had been when he teleported with Lyra.
Corona was standing. Trixie let out a cry of fright at that, charging forward, horn glowing. Ditzy followed, as did the rest – if they were going to go down, they were going to do it fighting. The white alicorn, however, when she saw their charge, didn’t take up a defensive posture. Instead, she held up a hoof. “Hold!” she demanded. “I would bargain with you!”
The words alone were enough to make the five start and halt their charge. “What?” Ditzy demanded.
The Tyrant Sun’s eyes were narrow as she turned to face the five of them fully. “Though I feel sickened that I have been driven to this…I propose an…alliance.”