//------------------------------// // Chapter 6: The War at Home, First Blood // Story: The Book of Water: The Heart of Winter // by TalonMach5 //------------------------------// The Book of Water: The Heart of Winter A Story by TalonMach5 Chapter 6: The War at Home, First Blood “Very well, Slave King,” she said, looking into the green flames that composed the Lord of Earth’s eyes. Staring up at him, she felt small and insignificant under the gaze of his burning eyes, which she didn’t like at all. Long ago, she was even more feared then he, but now like so many of the other fallen gods, she was a mere echo of what she once was. But none of that mattered now, the only thing that mattered was the survival of herself and her people. There would be time enough later, to plot her revenge against all those who had dared frame her hive for these crimes. Deciding that she needed to cut right to the heart of the matter, she levitated the summons in front of him. “What evidence do you have that any of these supposed crimes took place?” she angrily said, hoping to put him off balance with her righteous indignation. “Let alone, that any of my changelings were the least bit responsible?” “Queen Ambrosia,” the Slave King replied, tapping his finger against his throne. “The fact that these events occurred isn’t in dispute. Nor is the certainty that a changeling was solely responsible for the crimes outlined in the summons.” “And where is the supposed evidence, that a changeling was even present when any of this even occurred?” she countered, hoping to force him to reveal more of his hoof to her, before she ran out of arguments based on the scarce information she possessed. “There were multiple witnesses who saw the self-same changeling at the scene of each crime,” he said, tilting his head slightly as he wondered where she hoped to go with these continuous denials of her guilt. “Then I demand to see these witnesses, Slave King,” she boldly said, trying her best to mask the fear she had of him. “Queen Ambrosia,” the Slave King said, slightly amused by her impudence. “Your bargaining position is highly dubious.” “It is my right!” she shouted, pointing a hoof accusingly at him. “The law gives me the right to face my accusers, and furthermore…” “And furthermore nothing!” the Slave King roared, furious that any thought to command him, let alone compel him here in the very seat of his power. Suddenly he felt quite weak and lethargic. Rather than invigorating him, all his fury had managed to do was burn through the last vestiges of his meager reserves of strength. Noticing her husband’s struggle, Luna smiled to herself. He had no other choice now, he’d either give her the kiss she desired, or would fall off his throne onto the ground. Beloved, she whispered to him through the connection to the Domain of Shadow they both shared. Is something amiss with thee? Wife, you know damn well what’s wrong, he said, even struggling to voice his anger in this place. We have no idea of what thou speaketh, beloved, she demurely said, offering him a serene beguiling smile. We are still granting thee the selfsame amount of our divinity thou requested we bequeath unto thee earlier. Then why am I so weak? he asked, hoping she had an answer. What you gave should have been more than sufficient. Husband, dost thou requireth more of our aid? she asked, cutting right to the heart of the matter. It would be most appreciated, the Slave King replied, grateful for a reprieve from his lack of strength. Beloved, such things have a price, she hinted, laying her head against his shoulder. Wife, how mercenary of you, he deadpanned, knowing exactly where the conversation was headed. Husband, how dare thee implicate us possessing little more loyalty than a common sell sword, she complained, hurt that he thought so poorly of her. Thou hast brought this upon thyself. Had thou rationed and preserved thy strength, thou wouldst have little need of additional succor. Wife, you’ve been provoking me all morning, he countered, trying to absolve himself of any blame. Hast we asked of thee, beloved, she said, nuzzling against his cheek. Any more than any other wife might expect from their husband? We tell thee nay. When he heard her protestations, he nodded in agreement. Truly, he’d been a poor husband to her thus far, but she’d freely chosen this life. If she was unhappy now, she had no one to blame but herself. Then again, he’d also agreed to marry her, regardless of the extenuating circumstances prompting his marriage to her. Very well, wife, he said, acknowledging that his accusation towards her had been improper. Forgive me for being unkind. She offered him a tender smile, happy that he’d seen fit to recant his slur against her. Beloved, we forgive thee for thy outburst, she said, looking into his eyes. So what will it cost me, to gain your further support? he asked, unsure how much longer he could continue sitting upright in his throne. Beloved, our aid to thee shall cost thee little, she said, batting her eyes at him and licking her lips in anticipation. Whensoever thou requireth more of our divinity, thou simply needeth to kiss us, and we shall bequeath thee thy request. “Slave King, is something the matter?” Queen Ambrosia asked, confused by his silence. “Will you fulfill your obligations to me like the law requires?” “Verily, husband,” Princess Luna teased, placing her hoof against his hand. “What is thy answer?” For the first time in centuries, he didn’t know what to do. All he needed was to kiss his wife, and her strength would flow into him. But how could she expect him to do that in such a public setting? With few options left open to him, he did the only thing he could. Placing his hand gently on his wife’s muzzle, he tenderly kissed her. Immediately, he was rewarded with a greater portion of her divinity. Beyond the newly renewed strength returning to him, he felt something else return as well. A burning desire to be possessed by her. It was an interesting sensation to say the least, his mind and missing heart screamed at him to break away from her, but his body and instincts demanded he continue bathing in her divinity, until things reached their penultimate conclusion. “Slave King, have I come at a bad time for you?” he heard an amused Lord Triton ask. Relieved that the Lawgiver had granted him a reprieve from this unwelcomed lust, he quickly broke off the kiss and sat back in his throne. “Lord Triton, not at all,” he replied, trying his best to mask his flushed and aroused state from his fellow deity. “Well, I’m happy to see that married life agrees with you,” the Lawgiver said, smiling warmly at the married couple. “It’s been something else, I’ll give you that,” the Slave King said, giving his wife a cautious look. “But I take it you have more than well wishes to offer me before your departure, Lawgiver.” Approaching his throne, he glanced at the changeling queen for a moment before addressing the Lord of Earth. “When were you planning on telling the rest of the Pantheon, that you possessed the Elements of Harmony?” the Lawgiver plainly asked, causing the Slave King’s courtroom to become deathly still. When she heard Lord Triton mention the elements, Queen Ambrosia’s mouth hung open. She couldn’t believe that not only had he somehow managed to recover the lost artifacts, but had lost them as well. “Slave King,” she said, furious that he’d doomed them all. “Are you telling me that you possessed the Elements of Harmony, and allowed them to be stolen?” “Queen Ambrosia, this matter doesn’t concern you,” the Slave King rumbled, unhappy that she felt it was her place to lecture him. “Your only concern is your part in these crimes against me.” “Lord Triton, I expect you to support my claim against him,” she said, turning to face the Lawgiver. “The Slave King has the gall to accuse me of the most heinous of crimes, and yet can’t even be bothered to allow me to face my accusers. Additionally there’s the matter of the Elements of Harmony.” When confronted by her complaint, there was little he could do. The law was quite clear in this regard, anypony accused by another had the right to face their accuser. Of course as the Lord of Earth, the Slave King did have the final say on how justice was administered in his domain, but as a former member of the pantheon, Queen Ambrosia was justified in expecting certain considerations. “Slave King,” he said, thoughtfully stroking his mustache. “The law is on her side in this matter, withholding the protection of the law from her would be improper.” When he heard that he was being expected to extend the changeling queen the courtesy of the full protection of the law, he scowled. Once again to his detriment, the law was being used against him. “Very well, Lord Triton. Let it never be said, that the Slave King is unjust in anyway,” he said, tightening his mouth. Turning towards the changeling queen, he gave her a dour look, letting her know exactly how felt about this. “Those who have witnessed against your hive are my servants Melody the Yellow, Gunhilde my cupbearer, and Chrysalis her charge.” “Slave King, the summons mentioned four witnesses against me in this matter,” Queen Ambrosia countered, hoping this matter might be dismissed on a technicality. Knowing what she’d hoped to accomplish, the corners of the Slave King’s mouth turned into a smug grin. “There was a fourth witness, Queen Ambrosia,” he said, looking at Lord Triton. When she heard him mention the fourth, she pawed the ground nervously. Any hopes that this matter might be swept beneath the carpet were now obliterated. “Then where is your witness?” she asked, desperately trying to think of anything she could use to protect herself. Pointing a finger at the seapony by Lord Triton’s side, he gestured for her to approach his throne. “A chevaleresse of the Lawgiver, Dame Squall the Relentless,” he said, allowing the revelation of the requisite fourth witness to sink into her mind. “She was present at the scene of each of the crimes committed against me. With her testimony, there’s no doubt regarding your guilt.” “But what cause would we have seeking to harm you?” the changeling queen implored, worried that she’d finally run out of options. The Slave King considered her words. He knew he had her dead to rights, all she was trying to do now was delay the inevitable. Unlike what had happened between himself and Celestia, this time he wouldn’t be robbed of justice. Seeing the changeling queen before him, he was sorely tempted to add her to his collection in the Cavern of Torment. It would be nice to finally take his frustrations out on someone, even if he wasn’t entirely sure of their guilt. Glancing at Chrysalis, who was looking at her fellow changeling with concern, he suspected that like her supposed involvement at Bone’s Landing, Queen Ambrosia was being setup to take the fall for somebody else. If that was the case, the question remained why would a changeling betray their queen, and what possible motive might they have for doing so? Although he knew more about their race than most, they were such a secretive people it was difficult to uncover much about their ways. He supposed it could be all coincidental. After all, if every misdeed of the diamond dogs was attributed to him, the other domains would have casus belli against him on a list even longer than the length of the Lonely Road. But now he had another problem, how to extricate himself from this mess without looking weak before either Lord Triton or Queen Ambrosia? He must be slipping. Once again he’d stumbled, stepping forward without looking first to see if he’d made the right choice. If Scourge was here, he’d have at least made it a point to consider the possibility that the changelings were innocent. That wasn’t to say that he was completely convinced of her innocence. But objectively, he couldn’t discount her claim that she gained nothing by provoking him like this. He felt the warmth of his wife’s leg against his arm, and decided on the perfect plan to save his reputation and flummox his wife at the same time. Reaching out with his magic, he sent out a powerful spike of it and sent it coursing through her. Even though he expected some kind of response from her, he failed to anticipate what happened next. He found himself being pulled forward by his wife’s magic, as she pressed her lips to his, passionately kissing him, and nearly taking his breath away. When she broke their kiss, he looked into her turquoise eyes with faux surprise. “Wife, is there something you desire?” he asked, glad she took the bait. “Beloved, we art somewhat fatigued,” she demurely suggested, gently nibbling on his ear. “Perhaps we shoulds’t retire to our chambers, for respite from the vigor of thy rule.” “Wife,” he said, looking at her briefly before returning his burning gaze towards the changeling queen. “I cannot rest until this matter has been satisfactorily resolved.” “Then what will you do, Slave King?” Lord Triton asked, wondering how he’d reconcile the law with what he thought was his need for vengeance. “Lady Zephyr’s son has returned to the Golden Eyrie, and I believe he and my second were present during the first provocation against you. Even though her testimony is the most damning, in the interests of justice, Dame Squall shall not speak until he’s testified, or the changeling fiend has been apprehended.” When she heard that the key witness against her was being held up by a technicality, Queen Ambrosia sighed with relief. For the time being she was safe. For how long, she didn’t know, but this reprieve would at least give her a fighting chance. “Lord Triton,” she said, bowing respectfully to him for intervening on her behalf. Truly, your jurisprudence is both reasonable and fair.” Stroking his mustache, the Lawgiver gave her a thoughtful look. “Queen Ambrosia,” he said, looking at Dame Squall for a moment before returning his attention to her. “The Slave King was not the only party harmed by that changeling. They nearly assassinated my previous second, Sir Hurricane the Gallant. I swear that justice will be done, one way or another.” Seeing the scene unfold before him, the Slave King wanted to rejoice. Finally things were falling together, and all he had to do was set things into motion. “Melody, come here,” he said, looking towards his harper. “Yes, Slave King,” she said, putting her lute down and walking towards him. “I want you to head to the Golden Eyrie, and present a summons to Dawson,” he said, directing Harmony to write one up for him. “Of course, King da… I mean Slave King,” she said, before correcting herself. “But what if I run into the changeling on the way, he seems to be poking his muzzle a lot in your business lately. Want me to try apprehending him for you?” “Absolutely not, Melody,” he said, remembering how he’d almost lost her and her sister to the changeling’s predations once before. “Losing you to the assassin’s blade would be most distressing.” “Slave King,” Chrysalis said, approaching his throne. “Allow me to accompany Melody on this errand. If a changeling truly seeks her harm, I should prove most useful.” Well aware of her abilities, he nodded approvingly. “That’s a wise precaution, Chrysalis,” he said, looking towards his cupbearer. “Gunhilde, you and Chrysalis shall accompany Melody on this task. See that she reaches the Golden Eyrie, I’m entrusting you both with her safety.” Bowing low to her master, she fixed her purple eyes on the green flames emanating from his. “Master, we’ll ensure Melody makes it there and back safely,” she promised, happy for a chance to leave his crumbling palace behind if only for a little while. “Gunhilde, Chrysalis, be careful,” he cautioned, hoping to dissuade them from any heroics they might be tempted to engage in. “Remember, you’re to simply escort Melody there and back, avoiding any confrontations if at all possible.” “Of course, Slave King,” Chrysalis said, wearing a mischievous smirk. “Indeed…” the Slave King said, not entirely believing her. “Master,” she said, bowing low to him. “I promise you, I’ll be nothing but the soul of discretion.” Hearing their exchange and their plan to go deliver the summons to Dawson, Dame Squall felt the clarion call of the quest deep within her breast, and knew she had to go. If not only to share the feelings she possessed for him which were etched into her heart, but also to avenge both Sir Hurricane and herself upon that honorless changeling blackguard. Knowing what she had to do, she forsook all the proper decorum and courtly graces which she was expected to exhibit as the Lawgiver’s second. “Slave King,” she said, moving towards his throne with purpose. Withdrawing her trident, she presented it to him. “Earlier today, you said that this weapon once served you. Let it serve you once more. Allow me join Melody the Yellow’s entourage, and I swear on my honor, none shall molest them.” “Dame Squall,” Lord Triton said, surprised by this unexpected turn of events. “What of your oath to me?” Closing her emerald eyes, she sighed, determined to do this. As his second, Dame Squall had sworn to forsake all other oaths and quests to serve only her liege. By pledging herself to the Slave King’s service, she’d just broken her oath of fealty to her deity, liege, and master. Although it would be in bad form to withdraw her pledge, she could still do so in order to keep her pledge to the Lawgiver. However, both the call of the quest and her weapon told her that this is what she needed… no had to do. “My, lord,” she said, reverently bowing to the Lawgiver. “Forgive my impertinence, but please release me from my oath to you so that I might accompany them.” Raising one as young as her, let alone a chevaleresse as his second, was an unparalleled honor that many of his knights had aspired to over the course of their entire careers. To renounce her oath to him for this, the call of the quest must be strong indeed. But to sacrifice so much for a quest was the true mark of heroism, and as such he couldn’t deny any such a noble request. Placing a fin on her shoulder, he smiled warmly at her. “Dame Squall the Relentless,” he said, looking down on her. “Go with my blessing, chevaleresse, and bring honor to the order.” “I swear it, Lawgiver,” she promised, her eyes shining with the love she held for her liege. “Slave King,” the Lawgiver expectantly said, giving him a look that said he wouldn’t take no for an answer. “Will you accept this mare’s pledge?” Although this was supposed to be a simple mission, with things being as they were lately, he hadn’t any idea if things were unfolding thusly due to someone elses machinations, or if it was mere happenchance. But regardless of his personal reservations, he knew what she’d given up to offer to him her service, and such a sacrifice couldn’t be ignored. “Chevaleresse, I accept,” he said, wondering what else fate might see fit to cause before the day was through. “Harmony, see to outfitting them properly before they depart.” “Of course, Slave King,” she said, directing them to follow her out of the throne room. “As for you, Queen Ambrosia,” the Slave King said, feeling exhaustion setting in as his exertions finally caught up with him. “You’re free to leave. However, once they’ve returned with Dawson of the Golden Eyrie, I expect you to return here to defend yourself.” The changeling queen nodded once, indicating her acquiescence to his demand. “Once I’ve proven my hive’s innocence, I’ll expect an apology from you and compensation for falsely accusing me,” she said, looking directly into his burning eyes. Scowling in displeasure at her presumption, he dismissively waved his metal hand, signaling that he was finished with her for now. Turning towards the arch duke, he leaned against his wife for support. “Yipyap, court is adjourned for now,” he said, glad for the opportunity to rest. Picking up the Slave King with her magic, Luna stood up and gently placed him on her back. “Beloved, allow us to carry thee to our quarters,” she said, looking forward to spending some time alone with her husband. Exhausted by the strain he’d placed himself under, the Slave King went limp, content to rest in the gentle hold of her magic. Although he’d normally protest being carried about like a child, he was too weak and exhausted to care anymore. Riding on her back, he slumped against her neck, burying his face in the silken locks of her sweet smelling mane. “Ah, the honeymoon…” Lord Triton said, smiling knowingly at the newlyweds. When he heard the Lawgiver’s words, the Slave King lifted his head and looked him in the eye. “And what’s that supposed to mean?” he weakly demanded, furious with himself for exposing his weakness to his fellow deity. “Oh, not much, Slave King,” he replied, giving him an envious look. “I’m happy that your marriage seems to be a happy one, some of us were slightly concerned things between the two of you might’ve broken into conflict.” “Oh, whatever gave you that idea?” the Slave King sarcastically said, remembering full well Lord Triton’s part in forcing him to wed against his will. “We remember the first age rather well. Though some of us remember it less fondly than others,” the Lawgiver said with a slight chuckle, imagining the once over Luna must have given her husband to make him as weak as this. “I look forward to our meeting at Bone’s Landing later this week. Until then, Slave King, Princess Luna, enjoy yourselves, and may the law bless your happy union.” “Thank you, Lawgiver, we shall,” Luna happily said, bowing her head and offering him a serene smile in acknowledgment of his well wishes. Exiting the throne room with her husband in tow, she giddily walked with a bounce in her step. He desired her after all! The teasing spike of divinity he’d sent coursing through her was proof of that. All the doubts, worries, and fears that had been plaguing her mind for the past two days were finally washed away. Feeling his warmth pressing against her, while listening to the rhythm of his steady breathes, filled her with peace and serenity. The journey to their room was filled with a silence that misspoke volumes to the married mare. With each hoofstep, she fantasized about how they might idle away the remainder of their afternoon. Even though in his weakened state he was in no condition to fulfill most of them, she was sure she had a few ideas they might find suitable to the task. Happy to finally be able to consummate her marriage to her husband, she thought back to what he’d told her during their first night together. Nothing you do or say, will ever make me love you, he’d coldly told her, despoiling her expectations of ever knowing love again. When she’d heard him utter those cruel unfeeling words, a cold fury had raked its claws against her tender heart, causing it to break and making her eyes weep. In that moment of raw emotion, she’d nearly lost any hope for any happiness in their marriage. It was also partly the reason for her earlier behavior. She’d tried her best to hide her hurt, but she’d always worn her emotions on her flanks like a cutie mark. Which is why she was agog and delighted by his sudden turnabout of desire towards her. Not that she could blame him, he was a stallion after all, and stallions had driving urges and needs. Especially ones filled to the brim and overflowing with the potent magic of creation within them. Honestly, she was surprised he’d managed to hold out for as long as he had, his wounds not withstanding. Truly, her husband must possess a will even stronger than his iron crown. She felt his hand move against her barrel and smiled, happy that she could finally share her heart with him. Walking through the dark halls of their palace, her heart quickened as she approached their shared quarters. Nervously she bit her lower lip, wondering if her husband would be happy with her. In truth, it had been some time since she’d last been with any stallion, and was concerned she might not measure up to his previous paramours. Stopping in front of the large doors that lead to their marital bed, she stopped. “Wife?” the Slave King weakly asked, running his fingers through her dark coat. “Is something the matter?” “Nay, beloved,” she replied, opening the doors with her magic. “We art somewhat disquieted.” “I see…” he mused, as her magic lifted him off from her back, before gently depositing him on their bed. Giving her a pensive look with his burning eyes, he waited for her to elaborate. Looking down at her husband she gently smiled, as her turquoise eyes shone with desire. Laying down beside him, she placed her head on his chest. “Husband,” she said, looking into his eyes. “We wish to apologize to thee.” “Wife, whatever for?” he asked, wondering where she was going with this. Sitting up, she offered him a look of contrition. “We realize now, twas wrong of us to demand thy affections so,” she said, touching his crown with her horn. Hearing her apology, the Slave King sighed, feeling slightly ashamed of how he’d been treating her. Even though he was still unwilling to fully trust her, there was no need to be so discourteous towards her. Perhaps given the business with that changeling thief, his initial suspicions towards her were in error. After all for the most part, Luna had proven herself true. Maybe given enough time, he could trust the purity of her intentions. “Wife,” he said, resting his hand on her shoulder. “All’s forgiven.” Delighted that he’d so readily accepted her apology, and interpreting his forgiveness as a sign that he was now feeling more amiable towards her, she leaned forward to offer him a kiss. When he saw what she was trying to do, he narrowed his eyes disapprovingly at her. In an instant, all the good will the Slave King had been feeling towards his wife evaporated into the aether. “Just what do you think you’re trying to do?” he growled, moving as far away from her expectant lips as possible. Hearing his displeasure at her attempt at showing him affection, Luna laid back her ears with confusion and worry. “Beloved, we thought thou desireth us,” she confessed, hoping to recapture the moment. When he heard her explanation, he glowered at her, disappointed that her apology hadn’t been without guile. Instead, she’d thought to placate his anger and buy his forgiveness with a few cheap honeyed words. “Wife, you thought wrong,” he said, looking away from her. “Leave me, I desire to be alone.” Stung by her husband’s curt rejection, Luna blinked away the tears that were threatening to escape her eyes. “Beloved, if that’s your desire, we shall depart from thee,” she said, turning away in the hopes of hiding her tears and heartbreak from him. The Slave King said nothing as his wife fled their room in tears. Before leaving, she offered him one last forlorn look. When he saw the pain he’d inflicted on her reflected at him from her reddened eyes, he immediately regretted what he’d spoken in anger. By how familiar he’d allowed himself to be with her, he’d planted in her mind the expectation that he’d desired her. He wanted to reach out to her to apologize, but knew invariably what the end result of such a reconciliation would be, and he possessed little desire for such an outcome. It was never his intention to hurt her like this, but it seemed that no matter what he did, he was destined to bring her to tears. “Oh, brother, how I wish you were still with me…” he lamented, wishing he possessed the wisdom to extricate himself from the pantheon’s attempt at domesticating him. But no answer ever came, and he closed his eyes when he realized that he had to find the solution to this problem on his own. ***** The search for his wayward charge was still ongoing. No matter where he’d looked, she was nowhere to be found. He’d already checked all of her other usual hideouts and haunts and had come up with empty paws. He tapped one of his arcanum clad claws against the broken pavement beneath his paws as he contemplated where to search for her next. Normally he’d not worry about her so much, but given her temperamental nature and her current physical condition, she was in no state to go traipsing about the palace or the broken ruins of the city unescorted. He’d left her side for only a little while. There had been other matters that he’d needed to tend to. Seeing to his beloved disciple’s effects for one. Now that she’d left the Slave King’s employ, he needed to arrange for a meeting to decide on her replacement with his subordinates, and more importantly decide how to break the news of her departure to his friend. Although his king no longer considered him a friend, but a servant, he knew better. His friend still needed him, now more than ever. With his friend in such a vulnerable state, and the foul curse still plaguing him, these were dark times indeed. He only hoped that his service might spare his friend any more undue suffering. But as fickle as fate seemed to be these days, there was little guarantee that anyhound would be safe from its treacherous waters. He wondered how things would unfold under the auspices of the great new bitch his master had wed. His new mistress was known and revered to a small degree by his fellow hounds. Back in the first age, she’d taught Lord Darkpaw the Song of Creation. Singing with him, she showed him how to end his lonely existence, bringing forth the diamond dog clans in the process. He knew more of her sister Celestia, then she. Which all things considered, was probably true for most. Unlike her sibling, Luna was shrouded in mystery and was a rather obscure member of the Pantheon. Outside the inauguration, he’d only ever met her a pawful of times over the centuries, and now out of the blue she was married to his master the Slave King. Even though his master had had several mistresses over the centuries, and had borne several pups between them, his master had never seen fit to show any of them much affection. He considered it an enigma how he’d ever managed to become romantically entangled with any of them at all. But considering it was a matter between his master and the gods, he knew trying to understand such was beyond him. For now, all he needed to worry about was securing Lady Nightmare, and returning her to the safety of his quarters until he secure her better lodgings. Smelling the pavement beneath his paws, he scowled when it turned up another dead end. “Nightmare, if I wasn’t already dead, you’d be the death of me,” he grumbled, wondering where she could possibly be. Of everyhound he knew, the marriage of their master to their new mistress probably hit her the hardest. She’d loved their master greatly, and had never approved of his choice in companions. The only time he could ever recall her being truly happy, was whenever she sat beside their master’s throne as he held court. But now that another had usurped what she considered her rightful place, he wondered what sort of trouble this would portend for his master. Looking over his shoulder, he saw the palace off in the distance. It was the only light that still shone in the dark of the ruined city. For ages he’d plead with his master to let them rebuild the ancient capital, but each time he’d always say, No, let the city be. He could never understand his friend’s reluctance to rebuild, or even abandon it altogether if that was his preference. When he saw the completed preparations for his master’s wedding, his heart was gladdened. For what must have been the first time in centuries, life had returned to this long dead place. Which was what he hoped would be an omen for the future. For far too long had his friend been mired and looking to the past, rather than being primarily concerned with their immediate future endeavors like he ought. In trying to restore what had been lost, he’d lost sight of important and precious things. “Little pup, stay safe and be well…” he murmured, wishing that there could have been another way. He knew that until his friend embraced that part of himself which he’d always so fervently denied, that was the only possible outcome for both of them. Heading deeper into the broken city that might spell doom for lesser creatures, he walked into the shadows without fear. Truly, nothing in this place posed any threat to him. For he was beyond the reach of any in this place, and though he might welcome a return to oblivion, such was not to be. His friend had needed him then, and he had heeded the call to return. Passing by a crumbling and decaying estate on the city’s edge, he noted that it was in much better shape than the rest of the broken buildings that still stood in the ruins. In the many centuries that he’d lived here, this place always seemed untouched by the decay of neglect and time. He often wondered what it was about this part of the city, which had spared it from the fate of its fellows. Even though the Slave King never struck him as a sentimental hound, the fact that this site still stood was evidence that he felt something for his former home. Sensing that she wasn’t there, he turned away from the empty house haunted by the past, and continued his search. Walking along the broken pavement, he closed his eyes and could almost imagine the great city thrumming with life once more. Opening his spectral blue eyes, he saw the dark and gloom covering the broken city like a funeral shroud and sighed. Like his friend, he too was seemingly anchored to a past that was destined to never return. Looking up, he saw the long forgotten entrance to an abandoned gem mine. This was twice that he’d come here in less than the space of week, and all due to the same bitch. Well rather it was an irony that previously she’d been chasing him, and now he was chasing after her. If he failed to locate her within its roughhewn winding warren of passages, he had no idea where she might be hiding at. Entering the dark mine, the ethereal glow of his spectral body bathed the stone walls with a soft blue light. Walking deeper inside, he heard nothing beyond the soft metallic clinks of his arcanum shod paws amidst the occasional lonely howl of air currents blowing past him. Passing numerous side passages and corridors, his unwavering eyes continued searching for her. Although feeling fatigue was beyond him how, even he began to grow weary of this endless search. He wanted to return to the palace, so that he could return to his duties. He was close now, he could feel it deep in his bones. The place where he’d returned from the Summerlands to rejoin his lord and master. The place where he reassured his friend that he was no longer alone in the world. Turning a corner, he saw the tunnel leading to that hallowed place, and hoped that he’d find her there. Looking into the shadowy depths of the tunnel, he was disappointed to discover it empty. In fact, it looked like nohound had stepped paw inside it in ages. Growling in disappointment, he turned around to return the way he’d come, when a soft whimper caught his attention. Nearly concealed by the dark shadows of the passage, he saw her trembling form. Slowly approaching her, he saw that she looked terrible. Even after she’d completed the ritual that had saved their master’s life, she still possessed the powerful aura she’d always held as long as he’d ever known her. But now it was nowhere to be found. Standing over her, he no longer saw the proud and vicious predator that made even the denizens of the Pit tremble. Instead, before him was a heartbroken and miserable creature, who was too tired to even give him her customary sneer of derision for his treason against their lord. Patiently he waited for her to speak, to acknowledge his unwelcome intrusion into her personal space. Under normal circumstances, she’d have probably threatened him for discovering her in such a compromising state. But she remained silent, and beyond an occasional apathetic glance at him with her red eyes, she ignored his presence completely. Concerned by her uncharacteristic behavior, he looked down at her questioningly. “Lady Nightmare?” he asked in a low rumble, not wishing to draw the attention of the dead city’s residents with her in such a helpless state. “Are you all right?” Minutes passed and she remained silent, either unwilling or unable to answer him. Closing her eyes she tried willing him away with her mind, but when she opened them she saw that he still stood over her. Leave me, she weakly commanded, desperately wishing to wallow alone in her sorrow. Ignoring her demand, he gently prodded her with his arcanum clad paw. “Lady Nightmare, are you able to stand?” he asked, looking behind him for any signs of the hungry dead. I’m not going anywhere, she groused, unwilling to cooperate with the one she considered responsible for all her misery. “Lady Nightmare, you’re returning with me,” he said, using the same tone he used to command some of the younger pups under his command in ‘The Order of the Shadow’. “So either stand up and return under your own power, or I’ll carry you home on my back.” Not liking his tone, she laid back her ears and curled back her lips, revealing her razor sharp teeth to the fool who thought to speak to her as if she was some lost pup to be chastised for wandering off. Traitor! You dare presume to command me? she accused, staring up into his ethereal blue eyes with all the hate and fury she could muster. Forgetting her sorrow for a moment, she pulled herself up onto her paws, and stood before him trembling as she struggled supporting her own weight. I, who slew half the inhabitants of this city. The silent terror which stalks the shadows. The vengeance of the dark earth. You dare issue orders, let alone show your muzzle unbidden to me? Unintimidated by her boasts, he stood unflinchingly before her, fully prepared to take the full brunt of her fury before returning her to the palace. “Lady Nightmare, are you ready to return to your bed?” he asked, reaching out a paw to help steady her. Keep your paws to yourself, traitor! she screamed, losing herself to the roiling emotions that boiled and frothed within her. Returning to the palace and her master was pointless now. He had another that he loved now, and he no longer had any need of her. Looking away from him, she lowered her head in sorrow. I’m never coming back. Grabbing her muzzle with his paws, he forced her to look him in the eyes. “Nightmare, you are remiss in your duty to our king,” he said, reminding her of the chains of duty that bound them to their master. She longed to return to his side, to feel his nimble fingers running through her fur as she laid beside him. But when she thought of him passionately kissing that whore, her heart and soul despaired that she’d never know the pleasure of his lips pressed against hers. Seeing her master with another was too painful, and she possessed no means of coping with the distress. Her eyes held no tears, for all she knew was fury, which was a poor balm to one suffering from heartbreak. He no longer wants me, she mourned, fully convinced that he desired the whore by his side more than herself. “Would you abandon your duty, abandon him?” he sternly asked, scarcely able to believe such words were coming from her of all creatures. “The Slave King needs us, now more than ever.” His words cut far deeper than even her claws were capable of. Reeling back from the traitor’s accusations, she deeply inhaled through her nose before exhaling. When she thought of that pony whore using her master however she saw fit, she felt the fires of her rage burn anew. Scourge, she ordered, issuing her command and unwilling to brook any further delays. I have decided we will return to the palace now. I will allow you to carry me back to make up for taking so long to reach me. Happy that she’d decided to return with him, he laid down so she could climb onto his back. “As you wish, Lady Nightmare,” Scourge replied, waiting for her to get on top of him. Once she was secured, he began the long trek back to the safety of the palace. ***** Scourge walked away from his quarters relieved. He’d managed to perform his duty, locating Nightmare before any harm could befall her. Although he was certain, that even in her weakened state she would have proven no easy prey for the undead horrors inhabiting the Diamond Vale. His only remaining task now, was seeking out his master and advising him of Aria’s departure. That was a conversation he wasn’t looking forward to. Even though the Slave King had never openly shown any of his children affection, he was certain that his friend cared for each of his pups deeply. He’d seen the concern etched into his friend’s muzzle every time one of them went out on a dangerous mission, and he’d seen him pace with worry when he thought nohound else was looking. His little pup didn’t know her father like he did. If she had… well then she might have better understood. But what was done, was done. There was no use in bemoaning what fate had decreed. His only hope was that his disciple would find her place in the world, and remember that whatever else, he loved her. “My friend,” he sighed, wishing that whatever evil had poisoned him would be dispelled so they could go back to the way things used to be. Walking through the familiar twisting passages of the decrepit palace, he passed a black smear staining one of the friezes on the wall. Stopping to examine its scent, he sniffed it twice. It was the Slave King’s dried blood, undoubtedly left behind in haste when he’d tried escaping from his new wife, whom he’d assumed had tried and failed in assassinating him. Leaving the blood stain frieze behind him, he continued walking towards his master’s quarters. He wondered how long it might be before both Lady Nightmare and their master, would regain their health and vitality. Judging by how her rage had fueled her waning strength, he assumed it might be at least a week before either of them could move about unassisted. Knowing how much the Slave King detested weakness, he thought that he must be in a fury over his inability to care for himself. He was grateful that there were enough trustworthy members of the court, that could be counted on not to take undue advantage over the situation. Hounds like Nidhogg, Ignatius, Gunhilde, and yes, even the arch duke. Only a week prior, he would have counted himself amongst their number, but after how he’d conducted himself he wasn’t so sure. In order to save his king’s life he’d been forced to betray his friend, something he still felt conflicted over. For five centuries he’d faithfully served his king in all things. He’d even sacrificed his eternal rest when called upon, but when he’d needed him most, he’d been forced to choose between duty to his king and loyalty to his friend. Even though things had worked out more or less, in the end he’d still betrayed his friend, right when he needed him the most. Although, like his friend, he no longer possessed a beating heart, it still pained him when he thought of the part he’d played in this sorted business. He remembered what the Slave King had told him at his trial, Though you’ve served me well, I can no longer call you my friend. Those words had cut him deeply, and even though he had been cleared of treason, he’d have preferred being found guilty if it meant he could have kept his friend. But here he was, still considered the respected and venerable master of ‘The Order of the Shadow’, but yet more alone then he cared to admit. Now with Aria gone, and the Slave King considering him little more than his servant, he suspected he was as much alone in the world as his friend was. He was determined, that even if it took him another five centuries, he would earn back his friend’s trust. Now nearly at the door to the Slave King’s quarters, he was surprised when he saw his new mistress, Princess Luna storming out of the room. Judging by how furiously she ran down the hall, something must have agitated her greatly. Pressing his spectral muzzle to the ground, he inhaled and caught the scent of saltwater. Ah, she was crying for some reason. Now it made perfect sense. Something must have transpired between the Slave King and his wife. Although it didn’t surprise him in the slightest. In the past, he’d seen both Lady Zephyr and Lady Suzaku leaving his master’s quarters in similar states. Usually it was over how coldly they considered he’d been treating them. Usually things blew over in a day or two, before they returned to their relatively normal course. Well as normal as a formal agreement for knowledge in exchange for carnal favors might be considered. Normally he’d have not paid her tears any heed, but she was his mistress now, and her wellbeing was as important to him now as the Slave King’s was. Knowing he would later regret prying into his master’s marriage, he decided to see if there was any comfort he could offer the weeping princess before seeing to the business at paw. Following her scent through the winding labyrinthine passages of the crumbling palace, he found her weeping as she sat on her haunches in the darkened corner of a long forgotten room. Deciding to allow her the opportunity to release all her tears, he waited patiently outside the room for her to finish crying. How long he stood outside the door he didn’t know, but he was happy to wait as long as was required. When the door finally opened, he stood and respectfully bowed before his mistress. When she saw that somepony was standing just outside the room she’d spent who knows how long bawling her eyes out, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Now that somepony had discovered her shame, she assumed that before it was time for her to lower the moon, word of her sorrow, and the rejection by her husband would echo from servant to servant until all knew of her heartache and misery. Bitterness filled her soul as thoughts of the palace servants mocking her behind her back consumed her thoughts. Lowering her head in despair, she turned to walk away from the doomhound in search of some hidden place where she could weep in private. “Mistress, how may I serve you?” Scourge asked, when he saw that she was walking away from him. “Please, leave us to our sorrow,” she implored, offering him an embittered look. “We hope mocking our pain gives thee and thy cohorts much pleasure.” Realizing her worry, Scourge bowed to her once more. “Mistress, what you do behind closed doors is nohound’s business but your own,” he said, hoping to assuage her fears. “Should anyhound utter any untoward gossip about you, I’ll see to it that their tongues are silenced.” Relieved that nopony would know how undignified she’d behaved in her solitude, she lowered her head in gratitude to the doomhound for his providence towards her. “Thanks to thee for thy discretion, sir…” she said, unsure of her benefactor’s identity. “Mistress, I am Scourge, first of your doomhounds and head of your knights within 'The Order of the Shadow',” he replied, ensuring she knew that he considered himself as much her loyal servant as he was the Slave King’s. “Ah, Scourge, we remember thee somewhat from our previous marriage to the Slave King,” she mused, recognizing him from all those long past centuries. “We recall thee being our husband’s sworn brother. Our apologies, good sir, thou hast caught us in such a disparaging state.” “Mistress, forgive me for distressing you,” he said, looking into her reddened eyes. “But I thought you might desire the companionship. My master’s decorum regarding the opposite sex is somewhat lacking.” Hearing his comforting words, they brought a small smile to her lips. “We must agree with thy prognosis, Ser Scourge,” she agreed, happy to finally have somepony she could confide with in this otherwise dark and dreary place. “Please, mistress, feel free to call me Scourge,” he said, bowing respectfully before her once more. “Very well, Scourge,” she said, studying his heavy arcanum armor and translucent blue form. “Though we wonder why thou missed thy master’s and ours wedding feast. We wert advised thou wert counted amongst the most steadfast and stalwart of our husband’s servants.” “It’s to my great shame that’s no longer the case,” he replied, lowering his head in sorrow, ashamed that his mistress should know his treason. “I recently betrayed the Slave King in the service of the realm. Thus, I can no longer be counted amongst his friends.” Sensing that he too held the pain of rejection deep within his breast, Luna reached out to the doomhound and touched his armor with her horn. “Scourge,” she solemnly said, forgetting her own aching heart for the moment. “Shoulds’t thou desire, mightst we call thee friend?” When he heard her offer of friendship, the grieving doomhound felt his heart gladden. It had been pure misery being cast aside by his longtime friend, and hearing her desire for his friendship bound his wounded heart somewhat. “It would be my pleasure, mistress,” he said, lowering his head and gladly accepting her offer. When she heard him accept her as his friend, the bitterness over her husband’s rejection of her slowly melted away. It felt nice knowing that at least one pony wished to be her friend, in this otherwise cheerless place. “Then we art glad to consider thee friend, Scourge,” she said, offering him a gentle smile. “Mistress, tell me, how may I serve you?” he asked, wishing to be of service and strengthen the newly formed bonds of friendship between them. “Scourge, thou art our husband’s oldest and dearest friend, art thou not?” she asked, hoping that he might offer some insight into her stallion’s unyielding heart. “Until I betrayed him, I was, mistress,” Scourge replied, knowing full well what Luna most likely desired to know. “Then tell us, friend,” Luna implored, looking down the hall from whence she came. “What must we do to earn thy master’s respect?” When he heard her request, he was surprised. He’d anticipated that she’d have asked him how to win his heart instead, a feat which he felt was most likely impossible to achieve. Although he had no idea how to proceed towards wooing his master, winning his respect was another matter altogether. “Mistress, my master values forthrightness above all else,” he said, grateful that he could meaningfully serve her. “Forthrightness you say?” Luna replied, wondering how to best put her hoof forward in showing her husband her sincerity. “Yes, mistress,” Scourge advised, remembering well how hard the many betrayals his master had endured over the years had wounded him. “Here in the South, honesty and pure intentions are a rare commodity indeed.” Ruminating on what she knew of the Domain of Earth, it did make sense in a way. The Slave King had spent so much time defending himself against all manner of intrigue and expecting betrayal at every turn, that trusting anypony was probably very difficult for him to do. She thought back to their wedding night, and how he’d passionately kissed her before being struck down by his terrible curse. The look of betrayal had torn at her heart, when he’d scorned her then. Before, she’d assumed that he’d outright rejected her for his petty own reasons. But now with the information that Scourge had shared with her, and even if she proved her innocence to him regarding what had transpired between them in the Domain of Shadow, she was certain her husband expected her to be like all the rest, a capricious and untrustworthy mare. Especially when it came to matters regarding the Pantheon. Even though she didn’t have a reputation for intrigue and guile, her sister Celestia was counted amongst those who excelled at such. As her sister, it was easy to assume she had her hoof in most of her schemes as a silent partner. After all, she was the mistress of night, dark, and shadow, and they had the well-deserved reputation for deception and secrecy. But the truth was, she’d never cared much for such things. To her the night was a stalwart shield. It offered respite and protection from the rigors of the day, allowing everypony a chance to rest, secure in the knowledge she would defend them as they slept. Unfortunately few shared her sentiments, and most decided that the dark and shadows the night held, were to be feared instead of cherished. Even amongst her fellow deities on the Pantheon, such thoughts held sway. Few ever bothered asking her for aid, seeking out Celestia’s favor instead. If it was because they felt she was either incapable or untrustworthy she wasn’t quite sure, but was almost certain that it was because they felt that her sister had always involved her in her legion of machinations, schemes, and plots. Knowing how wary the Slave King was of her sister, she was certain he felt similarly towards her. Which was all the more a shame, for she took no joy in courtly intrigue and all its associated serpentine plots. All she’d ever desired was to protect and defend, and in his current condition her husband would find no greater ally or better protector then herself. She was certain that if she could only convince him that she had no greater plan for him than his recovery, and only desired to be his doting wife and stalwart helpmeet, that he would finally accept and love her in return. Determined that she would alleviate the Slave King’s fears of further betrayal, she looked at her new found friend. “Friend Scourge, woulds’t thou assist us in convincing thy master we art naught but a truthful and guileless mare?” When he heard Luna’s request, Scourge worriedly furrowed his brow. Such a task would prove most difficult, and currently his friend considered him little more than a servant. He was also worried that by aiding her, he might risk further alienating the Slave King away from himself. But when he saw his mistress’s turquoise eyes looking to him with hope, he knew he couldn’t deny her. “Mistress, if it pleases you, I will assist you in this,” he said, bowing before her. “Friend Scourge, we shan’t forget thy service and devotion to us,” Luna replied, happy to finally have an ally in this otherwise unfriendly place. “Dost thou have a suggestion on wherst to begin?” “My king rightly feels I betrayed him,” Scourge said, lamenting that he would be of limited use to her. “Anything I say or do will be suspect. I suggest seeking others to aid us in your quest.” “Scourge, thy wisdom is boundless,” Luna said, excited to begin. “Dost thou knowest of anypony who mightst be sympathetic to our cause?” “Speak with Melody the Yellow,” he said, without a second thought. “I have a feeling she’d readily assist you if you prove your sincerity to her.” “Ah, our feathered folk daughter,” Luna said, remembering their earlier meeting. “The harper seemed to us during the wedding, quite happy with our marriage to her father.” “Yes, Melody is seldom seen without wearing a smile,” Scourge agreed, thinking fondly of Aria’s sister. “Alas and alack,” Luna bemoaned when she remembered that Melody was shortly leaving for the Domain of Air. “Our daughter has been tasked by her father to retrieve Dawson of the Golden Eyrie, to testify against Ambrosia, queen of the changelings.” “Queen Ambrosia was here…” Scourge murmured, unable to understand why his master would summon her. “It seems I’ve been out of the loop.” “Our husband felt convinced that she was responsible for the changeling interference at Bone’s Landing, the attempted theft of the Elements of Harmony, and attempted murder of Melody, Gunhilde, Chrysalis, and Dame Squall,” Luna said, explaining the Slave King’s reasons for summoning the changeling queen to his throne. When he heard all that had transpired in his absence, he felt uneasy. It was telling that the Slave King had failed to inform him of any of this. Normally he’d been his friend’s most trusted adviser. Together they’d circumnavigated around and disarmed more plots over the centuries then he cared to recall. But now, thanks to his betrayal, his friend had chosen to ignore him, and as a result was acting in haste. His only consolation was that so far, he’d managed to handle things well enough on his own. But now with the attempted murder of Melody and the others, and these Elements of Harmony, the risk to the Slave King had never been greater. “Tell me, mistress, of the Elements of Harmony,” he said, hoping she could shed some light on exactly what they were. Happy to help, Luna recounted to him all that had occurred earlier that day, and all she knew about the Elements of Harmony. Scourge nodded thoughtfully as she told them of their storied history and how they were thought lost in the first age. When she mentioned that the tears the Slave King had cried in his despair all those centuries ago were the elements reborn, he wondered if there wasn’t some greater power at work behind the scenes. Deciding that whether or not he wanted his help, his friend needed him. He decided to do what he could to prepare against any further changeling assaults against his lord. “Mistress, when you speak with Melody, send her my way,” he said, wishing to tell her of her sister’s fate before she left on the mission. Luna nodded once at him, before departing to find Melody. Looking back at the spectral doomhound, she smiled warmly at him. “We thank thee, friend, for everything,” she said, grateful that he’d agreed to assist her. “Our husband is lucky to have such a good friend as thee.” “You’re too kind, mistress,” Scourge said, turning slightly away from her kind eyes. In truth, all things considered, he still wasn’t sure if agreeing to help her was the best thing to do. But she was his mistress, and just like the Slave King, her happiness mattered to him. Watching her trot away with a heart full of hope and forgotten tears, he smiled, satisfied with a job well done. Turning to face the way he’d come, he frowned. For his next task wouldn’t nearly be as easy as comforting a mourning and melancholy princess. He wondered how his king would respond when he confronted and presented him with the news that his daughter Aria had finally left them, possibly forever. Standing in front of the doors leading to the Slave King’s quarters, Scourge felt apprehensive. He didn’t know if his council and presence was still welcomed, or if the Slave King would merely tolerate him instead. Knowing he couldn’t delay this meeting forever, he lifted his paw and softly rapped on the door. “Come in,” was the muffled reply. Opening the large door with his paw, he entered the room, and closed the door behind him. In the middle of the spartanly decorated room, the Slave King was resting on his large bed. The lord of Earth glanced at him, before looking away. Scourge hadn’t known what exactly he expected to happen between them, but hadn’t anticipated his master displaying complete indifference towards him. “What is it that you want?” the Slave King asked, refusing to look at him, choosing to look out at the balcony instead. “Master, my apologies for missing your court earlier,” he said, hoping to gauge his lord’s temperament. “That was to be expected, as you weren’t invited to attend,” the Slave King replied, not caring how his words wounded him. “Besides, you were instructed to see to Nightmare’s needs were you not?” Scourge nodded in agreement at his lord’s mild rebuke. He’d been instructed to look after Nightmare, and had left her side to see him. He took it as a veiled sign of his master’s disapproval of his dereliction of duty. Under other circumstances, he’d have taken the hint and departed, but his business was too urgent to allow it to wait until later. “Master…” he said, before being interrupted by the Slave King. “Why have you come to me unbidden?” he coldly asked, leveling an accusing look at his former friend. Knowing he needed to just go and say it, he took a deep breath. “It’s Aria,” Scourge admitted, wishing there was an easier way to break the news to his master. “What about her?” the Slave King asked, seemingly uninterested in the slightest regarding her fate. “She's gone,” Scourge answered, wishing there had been some other way. “What?” the Slave King asked, not quite sure he’d heard him right. “She left this morning, maybe forever,” he said, feeling his heart sink as he remembered how she lamented that her father didn’t love her. “Aria left…” the Slave King said, his voice nearly a whisper. “Did she return to her mother?” “Truthfully, Slave King, I don’t know her final destination,” he said, hoping that she was well. “She never said.” Lying alone in his bed, the Slave King tilted his head towards him. He wore a neutral expression which revealed no emotion. “Tell me, Scourge, did she have any words for me before she left?” he asked, resting his hands on his stomach. Remembering the words she’d uttered in her anger and despair, “I hate you…”, and “Why don’t you love me, father?” Scourge didn’t know if he should burden his master with the knowledge. “What did she say?” the Slave King reiterated, softly demanding the truth from him. Knowing he couldn’t hide the truth from him, he decided to answer. “She said she hated you, and asked me why you didn’t love your own daughter,” he regretfully said, wishing that she hadn’t left under such circumstances. “She hates me…” he weakly said, as the green fire burning in his eyes weakly flickered and threatened to die. “Master?” Scourge asked, concerned for his friend. “Little Bleu, do you hate me as well…” he murmured to nohound in particular. “Shall I get Princess Luna?” Scourge asked, worried that the Slave King was about to relapse to his curse’s thrall. “Leave me, Scourge,” the Slave King said, shaking his head. “Very well, Master,” he said, bowing low. “I will return later with the rest of my report.” Leaving his master’s room, he gave his friend a look of sympathy. Once the door had closed behind him, he sighed as his heart ached for the little pup and for his friend. Before he left, he heard a muffled sob. “Forgive me, Aria. Please forgive me…”