//------------------------------// // Chapter 8: A Daughter Gained, a Daughter Lost, and a Daughter Departed // Story: The Book of Water: The Heart of Winter // by TalonMach5 //------------------------------// The Book of Water: The Heart of Winter A Story by TalonMach5 Chapter 8: A Daughter Gained, a Daughter Lost, and a Daughter Departed The sound of his hammer striking the glowing metal made a satisfying ring, which echoed in the unusually quiet forge. Usually this place was a beehive of activity, but for the past few days very little work had been done. Not that he was complaining. No, he had very few opportunities to have a good portion of the forge and manufactorium to himself. A short holiday was always good for morale and productivity, though he always had to stay on top of everyscale for the first few days after they resumed working. Invariably somescale would have their attention focused elsewhere, instead of on their work like they ought. It’s why he preferred the fires of the forge to the idle entertainments of the city. He saw no point in carousing around Neo Vale and getting drunk off his tail, like some of the others seemed to enjoy. He rolled his eyes when he remembered their attempts at getting him to join them for the inaugural celebration. He’d steadfastly refused all their pleas, choosing to remain here in the forge instead. It was a good thing too, his king had needed him. So instead of wasting his time in some tavern ignoring their flirting, he’d had the pleasure of making his master a thing of beauty, a golden crown. It was a request from a rather peculiar unicorn, Ringing Bells. She’d thought that using her feminine charms on him would convince him to aid her, but having years of practice beneath his belt brushing aside his subordinates’ feminine whiles, had left his scales impervious at any attempts at feminine manipulation. Well that wasn’t quite true, there was still one who could get him to do anything she asked. His elder sister, Melody. Even though they weren’t siblings in the strictest sense of the word, belonging to one of the three beastfolk tribes meant taking family wherever they were found. She’d helped raise him and his sisters since they were whelps no higher than her knee. Even though he towered over her now, he still considered her his big sister. Even now, all she had to do was beg him with her puppy dog eyes, and he was putty in her hands. Which was why, when Ringing Bells had approached him with her request to make his master as she put it, a more ‘stylish’ crown, he’d outright rejected her. At first, she tried batting her eyes and flirting with him in the hopes of gaining his assistance. He’d been busy with the Bones Landing inventory, and hadn’t wanted to be disturbed by anyscale. So he’d brusquely told her to hit the road. When she found that her flirting had failed to gain his assistance, she tried using tears. As she cried and wailed, she sobbed and accused him of ruining absolutely everything. Watching the unicorn’s hysterical waterworks, had nearly made him burst out in laughter. He’d never fallen for any of his sisters’ tears before, and wasn’t about to start for this mare now. When Ringing Bells found that neither her flirtation nor tears had moved him to action, she brought out the big guns, Melody. Although he protested when she’d hugged him tight, secretly he enjoyed it. In the end, he’d agree to help. All it had taken her to get him to agree to aid her, was Melody asking him if he was willing to help his Melly. Even though he groused about it, the hugs he’d received from her were well worth it. Although he’d been resistant at first, he found making the crown for his king an enjoyable challenge. It wasn’t often that he worked with precious metals, as arcanum and iron were usually the mainstays of his forge. Working and shaping the gold, he’d added a bit of arcanum for good measure. He’d made several attempts at fashioning the crown, but found it a bit difficult deciding on its final design. His king’s crown was of a simple design, but its simplicity spoke volumes about its wearer. It displayed very little of his face, was composed entirely of a mix of arcanum and iron, and was more a helmet then a crown. In the end he decided on a crown made up of twisting gold and arcanum wire. Where the old crown was completely plain and utilitarian, the crown he’d made for his master, was elegant and slightly ostentatious in its design. He’d hoped that his king found his creation worthy, and to his delight had been told that he’d worn it during the entirety of his inauguration. Although he’d found the change of pace refreshing, he had so many personal projects to wanted to catch up on, that he was planning on taking full advantage of this lull to get in some headway. He had a few ideas that he wanted to work on before presenting them to his master, and now was the perfect time to do some experimentation. Raising his large smithy hammer, he was about to strike the waiting metal when somescale interrupted him on his downward swing. “Ignatius!” a feminine voice shouted at him from across the deserted workshop floor. “Damn it!” he grumbled, putting down his hammer and walking towards them to see what they wanted. Walking past the silent machinery of the manufactorium, he turned a corner and raised his brow at what he saw. It was none other than Sapphire, one of his fellow dragon-halfs. Although he did find it peculiar why she was all alone. Usually, she and her sisters were never far apart. Sighing, he wondered what it was that she wanted. If it was another fool attempt at getting him to leave the forge, she was coveting after the wrong hoard. He’d already rebuffed her once, and wasn’t in the mood for any more feminine shenanigans. Like his master, he found that he had better things to do with his time than humor silly dragonesses. “Something I can help you with, Sapphire?” he asked, tapping his claw against the red scales on his leg. “Ignatius, the Slave King’s, coming for a surprise inspection,” she said, putting on the thick leather belt she used to carry all her tools. “I told the rest of the girls to get everything started back up, while I went to fetch you. Everything needs to be perfect for their arrival.” Although unexpected at this hour, the Slave King had sent him a missive earlier, wishing to discuss this month’s shipment of crystals from up north. He didn’t see what the big deal was, the Slave King had recently visited the manufactorium, and had even given a tour of it to most of the goddesses on the Pantheon. As far as he was concerned it was just business as usual, and if his master wanted to do a little midnight smithing of his own, more power to him. “Even if it’s a surprise inspection, it’s still a holiday, Sapphire,” Ignatius said, annoyed that he was being pulled away from his work, for what amounted to nothing more than a social visit. The Slave King has never stood for ceremony before, and would prefer that he spent his time productively rather than worry over pointless niceties. “Wait… did you say their arrival?” “Of course, the Slave King’s wife is coming down as well,” she said, reaching down to straighten his belt. “So we have to give her a good first impression of the dragon-half tribe.” “Since when has the Slave King ever been married?” Ignatius asked, annoyed with her for fiddling with his belt. Something which had taken him all night, to make it rest as comfortably as possible around his waist. He found it difficult to believe that someone like the Slave King would ever agree to get married to anyscale, after what had happened between him and Lady Zephyr. “You didn’t hear?” Sapphire asked, arching her blue scaly brow in disbelief. “Ignatius, you really do need to get out more.” “Hear what?” he retorted, trying to readjust his belt back to where it once was. He swore that if this was another one of their pranks, he’d have the lot of them stoking the forges for the next week. “The Slave King married Princess Luna, it was so romantic,” she sighed, remembering the celebration fondly, and wishing she might experience a wedding like that for herself one day. She wished that she’d had somescale to go with, but with so many dragon-half dragonesses and only three dragon-half drakes in existence to chase after, the pickings were rather slim. Especially when certain dragon-halfs were so adamant about being such sticks in the mud. But hopefully that would all change now. With the Slave King’s marriage, Ignatius had no more excuses to avoid socializing with his fellow dragon-halfs. She hoped that seeing their beloved Slave King being happily married, that he might reconsider his stubborn devotion to his own bachelorhood. Maybe their new mistress might have some suggestions for convincing a certain unyielding drake to take his responsibilities in propagating the dragon-half tribe seriously. Although she wasn’t certain he’d cooperate, perhaps if the princess made the request personally, Ignatius would consider taking one or an even dozen of her sisters as his wives, ensuring the future of their tribe. Spying how filthy Ignatius’s face was, she offered him a clean cloth to wash his scales. When he rolled his eyes at her, Sapphire pulled him towards her and began vigorously rubbing the cloth against the scales on his snout. “What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded, annoyed that she thought it was her place to boss him around, when he and not she, was the forge master here. “Well if you’re not going to put any effort into cleaning up, and properly representing our tribe, somescale has to do it!” she shouted, rubbing his scales with a fury. “Fine, I’ll do it! Just stop, you’re going to rub the scales right off my snout,” he snapped, snatching the cloth from her claws. Wetting it in a nearby wash basin, he began scrubbing his face clean. “So what’s the big deal anyway? Why are you so excited to impress Princess Luna?” “She’s second in power, only to Princess Celestia,” Sapphire said, wetting another cloth as she began vigorously scrubbing Ignatius’s back and shoulders. “If we impress her enough, maybe she’ll want a dragon-half forge master of her own.” “Humph,” Ignatius dismissively snorted, thoroughly annoyed that he was being inconvenienced because she was gunning for a promotion. “What makes you think she’d pick a dragoness over drakes like Basalt or Obsidian anyways?” “What?” Sapphire demanded, narrowing her silver eyes accusingly at him. She was furious that he’d summarily dismissed her and her sisters from ever being considered for the position if it became available. “What makes you think a dragoness isn’t just as capable as a drake?” Happy that he’d gotten under her scales, Ignatius gave the dragoness a smug grin. Looking her over, he eyed the shining blue scales that flowed over the gentle curves of her arms, legs, tail, and torso. Running his claws along her shoulders and back, he pinched the flesh on her arms. Placing a claw on her rear end, he gave her rump a thoughtful squeeze, and pulled on her tail for good measure. Feeling him touching her with his claws in such an intimate manner, made Sapphire’s normally blue face flush crimson with embarrassment. Slapping him across the muzzle, she bared her fangs at him. “How dare you!” she shouted, feeling conflicted by the embarrassment and arousal his behavior had elicited within her. “Sapphire, you and the other dragonesses are much too soft to be forge masters,” he said, as he finished cleaning off the soot and grime from his scales. Flexing his bicep, he presented his arm to her. “Here, place your claws on my arm. Feel my strength and hard muscles. That’s what a forge master needs.” Placing her claws on his bicep, she gently squoze his arm and felt his muscles. Compared to herself and the rest of her sisters, there was no comparison. He probably had at least three times her strength. She despondently sighed and looked down, when she realized that Ignatius was probably right, why would anyscale want her when they could pick one of the other much hardier drakes as their forge master instead? Seeing her disappointment, Ignatius lifted her muzzle with his claw to look him in the eye. Staring into her silvery eyes, he offered her a sympathetic smile. “Hey, Sapphire,” he said, straightening his tool belt across his waist. “I’m not saying you and your sisters aren’t any good at running the forges, or even poor smiths, because you’re not. In fact without you, most of the work around here would take forever to get done.” Blushing at his compliment, she felt her internal fire heating up. Even though he could be a bit of a stubborn mule at times, beneath his gruff exterior was a gentle softie. She was certain that one day somescale would make him take notice of them, and she only hoped that somescale would be her. Feeling his claws on her chin, she licked her lips in invitation, and looked into his golden eyes with hope and desire. For a moment it looked as if he might take the hint, but then he pulled away from her. “Sapphire, we’d better be off if we want to impress our new mistress,” he said, letting go of her. Letting out a sigh of disappointment, she nodded in agreement. “Alright, Ignatius, follow me,” she said, directing him to follow her to where her sisters were awaiting their arrival. ***** He felt the warmth of the fires against his skin and the thrum of the great machines rumbling through his bones, and felt a wave of contentment overcome him. He was finally back in the one place he loved above all else, his manufactorium. This place, he knew it well. Even when it had been no more than a single forge, anvil and workbench, over the centuries it had grown into something great and magnificent. From such humble beginnings, it had grown and expanded, until the great foundry had spread both far and deep beneath the surface of his domain. Originally his only purpose in making the manufactorium had been to aid him in the construction of the Vendetta. But once he’d secured his safety from the rest of the Pantheon, ensured the future prosperity of Equestria, and came to collect his promised payment, the Winding One had approached him with an intriguing proposal. Even though they had managed to frustrate the unmentionable one’s latest scheme to free himself from the confines of the Pit, Jormungandr had told him it was only a matter of time before the destroyer would try freeing himself again. In the event that they failed in stopping his escape from the Pit in the future, the great serpent desired to commission from him great machines to stand as Equestria’s last line of defense. Of course he’d dismissed Jormungandr’s fears out of hand. Why should the one that made the Earth tremble at his approach, and mountains move in his wake, have any cause to fear another? Especially when they were long since departed. When he heard his refusal, the Winding One simply smiled at him through half closed eyes, and asked him a single question, Would you be willing to do it for her? Now that had made him pause. With the payment he’d received, he possessed the means to reach the Summerlands, but had no idea how to bring someone back from their eternal rest. He’d asked him then, if such a thing was possible. His answer though cryptic, had filled him with hope, There are ways and means to restoring the dead to the land of living, but the price for doing so is great. In his haste to be reunited with her, he’d failed to give any thought to the price he’d pay for rebelling against the natural order, and eagerly agreed to build the Winding One’s great engines of war. True to his word, Jormungandr taught him the secret of calling departed souls to him. But the price for doing so was heartbreak. He hadn’t realized that without a body to inhabit, one’s soul would invariably return from whence it came. When he realized that she would always be out of reach, he’d wept and mourned, but stubbornly refused to give up his quest to restore her. Over the ensuing centuries he’d dedicated much of his time trying to create a vessel suitable for a spirit to inhabit. At first, the results had been promising. His success in binding Scourge’s incorporeal form to his arcanum armor bore witness to that. However her soul never seemed to find purchase in any of the bodies he’d offered her. Whether arcanum, stone, earth, or clay, in the end, her soul refused them all as they crumbled into dust and ruin. It had been so hard at first, being powerless to save her as he held her to his breast, watching her gasp her last breaths as she lay dying in his arms. But each time he met with failure and heartbreak, he vowed through his tears that the next time would be different, that he would finally succeed. It never got any easier watching her repeatedly die over the years, but the opportunity to hold her in his arms again was worth the pain of constantly reliving her loss. But now he’d lost another, one who he’d been too afraid to accept as his own, and now she too was beyond him. The thought of losing another was nearly too much to bear, had he still possessed the strength, he would’ve given chase, and made her return home with him. Of course he knew it wasn’t beyond all hope, but could he put aside one for the sake of the other? Must he abandon the dead for the sake of the living, or should he continue as he always had, clinging to his hope of finally being reunited with her? Sighing, he rested against his wife’s, silken blue coat. Regardless of what course he’d choose to follow, he was fulfilling his pact with the Winding One. The Devastation, the first of six engines of war commissioned by his enigmatic ally, was nearly complete, and barring any needed repairs, would soon be ready for deployment. Made completely from arcanum, and powered using the harvested crystals from the far north imbued with his divinity, he considered this machine and its fellows his magnum opus. Prior that week, he’d threatened his sister-in-law Celestia and the other goddess of the Lunar Council with utter destruction if they didn’t leave him be. At the time, she had scoffed at what she’d considered to be empty and hollow threats, but if she knew the reality of his boasts, he wondered would she have so readily dismissed his claims? More importantly, would she have allowed him to frustrate what he figured must have been her carefully crafted plan for him? But he was married to her sister Luna now, and dwelling on such thoughts was pointless. All that mattered now was deciding what part of the Devastation should be worked on next with Ignatius, his dragon-half forge master. Once this month’s shipment of crystals had been consigned to their intended purpose, another month would pass before any further changes to the Devastation could take place. “Husband?” he heard his wife ask, rousing him from his thoughts. “Wife, what is it?” he asked, losing himself to the thrumming heartbeat of the machinery in his forge. “We knowest how thou hast propagateth thy tribes of featherfolk, kolbolds, and even thy lone griffin-half son,” Luna said, turning her head towards him. “But pray tell, how didst thou and Lord Ouroboros manage to conceive thy dragon-half foals?” When he heard his wife’s question, he tightened his lips in displeasure at her inquiry. Truthfully, the creation of the dragon-half tribe was an embarrassment to him. He knew in ages past, all manner of couplings had occurred, resulting in the many diverse races that inhabited Equestria and beyond. The idea that he and the Fire Tyrant had done something similar with each other after their great battle as he drifted into oblivion, didn’t sit well with him. “Tell me, wife,” he replied, hoping to silence any further questions about what might or might not have happened between himself and his enemy. “From where did the three pony tribes and zebras originate? Did you and your sister…” Stopping in her tracks, she opened her mouth to respond, but shut it without saying anything. Her blushing face and reluctance to speak, had thankfully silenced her. She stood still, refusing to look back at him. “Husband…” she stammered, laying her ears back and nervously pawing the ground with her hoof. “Tis improper to profane the sacred in such a vulgar place.” “Then, wife, you have your answer,” he replied, glad that his point had been made. Folding out her wing, she gently caressed him. “Beloved, mayhaps if thou still desireth to knowest it later, we coulds’t show thee in a more reverent place?” she suggested, looking at him with her large eyes. Sighing to himself he shook his head, she’d completely missed the point. He possessed no desire to ever discuss those events with her or with anyone else for that matter. It was better for all if things remained in the shadows, left unsaid and unspoken. However, she stood still and was waiting for his response. Deciding that he needed to set her straight, he looked in the eye. “Wife, like my pain, my secrets are only for me to know,” he brusquely said, hoping she would finally get the hint. His harsh tone and uncaring words raked against her heart. Biting back against her heartache, she steeled herself and banished the tears that were threatening to escape. Pleasantly smiling at her husband, she said nothing further and resumed their journey into the heart of the manufactorium. It took all her strength to hide her pain, but she’d vowed to gain his respect, even if it meant concealing a thousand cuts inflicted upon her wounded heart. He was relieved, they were moving again. He supposed it meant that she’d given up prying at things she had no business knowing. He was worried that perhaps he might have been too rude towards her. Because regardless of their differences, she was still his wife and was entitled to a certain amount of respect, regardless of what else he felt about her. He’d been prepared to rebuff her teary refrain, when he’d outright refused to elaborate further about the origins of the dragon-half tribe. But instead of crying like he thought she might, instead she’d resumed their journey without saying anything further. He thought that he’d seen a glimmer of hurt momentarily reflected within her teal eyes, before she’d blinked it away. That had surprised him, he’d thought that he’d have had to put up with his weepy wife’s antics for his transgression, before she’d manage to properly compose herself. It was a relief not having to deal with her tears once more, over some imagined slight against her. So far their marriage had been a series of ups and downs, mainly composed of her passionate claims of affection for him intermixed with her moody tears, with scantly anything else in between. It seemed that a change had overcome her, and he found it refreshing. “Wife,” he said, stroking her mane with his hand. “Maybe one day I’ll tell you about it.” Her ears perked up, but she remained silent as she pressed her wing reassuringly against him. “Wife, we’re here,” he said, gesturing towards the open floor of the manufactorium. All around them forges and furnaces were being prepped by dragon-half smiths, in order to resume the work of melting down raw ore and refining it into the foundation of his trade empire. This was completely unexpected, he hadn’t wished to cut their break short. He’d only desired discussing the Devastation’s condition with his forge master, Ignatius. Spying the dragon-half, he was about to wave him over and ask why he’d seen fit to start up the forges in the middle of the night, when every dragon-half got down on their knees and bowed before them. “Ignatius,” he said, curious why they had felt the need to prostrate themselves before him. “Don’t your siblings have better things to do with your time, than waste it indulging in such foolishness?” Looking up at her lord and master, Sapphire looked into his burning eyes. “Slave King, this was my idea,” she said, offering Luna a slight smile. “We wanted to offer our new mistress a proper welcome to her forge.” When she heard the dragoness’s sentiment, Luna felt touched. It been so long since any had so warmly welcomed her. She remembered how her ponies had once likewise venerated her, but it had been so long since any had done so, that she’d nearly forgotten how nice it felt to be so appreciated. Knowing that like those of the other tribes, these had been bereft of their father’s love, she was bound and determined that if she had any say in the matter, they would know a mother’s. “Rise, my daughter,” she said, offering Sapphire a warm smile. “We must thank thee and thy sisters for thy warm welcome and kinship.” When she heard her calling her, her daughter, Sapphire looked up at the Slave King, unsure of what she should do. Seeing her discomfort, the Slave King looked at Ignatius and motioned towards his workshop. Taking the hint, Ignatius nodded once, stood up, and clapped his hands. “Alright, everyscale!” he barked, pointing towards the waiting forges and idle machines. “This isn’t a party! Let’s get back to work.” Groans of disappointment were heard, as the dragonesses complained about having to work on their day off. Concerned they were giving Princess Luna a bad impression of their tribe, Sapphire snapped her claws. “Hey, you all agreed to come in for some overtime!” she shouted, reminding them that they had all volunteered to come in. “Let’s not embarrass the Slave King in front of his wife.” The others seeing her sharp look, quietly filed away to return to their stations, as Luna looked on. Following after Ignatius and Sapphire as they led the way, she marveled at what she saw. Although she’d been in here previously, she’d been too busy chasing after her husband to see the machinery up close. Hearty dragon-half dragonesses were hard at work, taking turns blowing jets of flame into the waiting forges and cold furnaces. As they passed, she offered each of her new daughters a kind smile and graceful nod of her head. Even though her husband might not consider them any more than servants, she wanted them to know she considered them as family. In passing, she noted that many of the dragonesses were giving envious looks to Sapphire and longing looks at Ignatius. The tribe was young, and she supposed it made sense that Ignatius hadn’t chosen a mate and settled down yet. “Husband,” she said, desiring to know more of the dragon-halfs. “Is this the extent of our dragon-half foals?” “No, wife,” he said, giving her a curious look, wondering why she felt the need to refer to them as their children. After all, he didn’t see her referring to every mare and stallion as her son or daughter. “Their numbers are greater than this.” “How many art there?” Luna asked, wondering why she saw so few drakes among their number. “Are there no other drakes amongst thy tribe? “Princess Luna,” Sapphire said, turning to face her and pointing to Ignatius. “There are only three drakes among our tribe’s number. Ignatius, Basalt, and Obsidian.” “Oh how unfortunate for thee,” Luna said, realizing the implications of having so few drakes among so many dragonesses. “Perhaps in a few years hence, that shalt change, daughter.” Sapphire’s face grew crimson at Luna’s suggestion, and she turned away in embarrassment, while Ignatius fins grew an even darker shade of red then he normally was. Wishing to change the subject, Ignatius decided to broach the matter of his king’s unexpected visit. “So, Slave King,” he asked, sitting down on a large stone chair. “What brings you to the manufactorium this evening? Wanting to do a little midnight metalwork?” “No, Ignatius,” the Slave King said as Luna picked him up off her back with her magic and placed him down on a seat of his own. “I wanted to apologize.” “For what?” Ignatius asked, curious why the Slave King felt the need to apologize. “For running rampant in the manufactorium without alerting anyone first,” he said, knowing how annoying it must have been having over a dozen desperate woman chasing after him and stampeding through their workspace. “Well, Slave King,” he said, folding his claws together and placing them on his lap. “I won’t say it was expected, but everyscale seemed to appreciate it when I ended up closing everything down early.” The Slave King gave his forge master a slight smile, and nodded. “I’m grateful for your suggestion that I take things out into the old city,” he said, glad that he’d moved things out of the manufactorium before something regrettable had happened to the Devastation. “Had something irrevocable happened to the Devastation or one of the other great machines, we’d never be able to recoup the loss against our timetable.” “My suggestion?” Ignatius asked, not sure what his master was referring to. “I don’t follow.” “At any rate, let us discuss the Devastation’s condition,” he said, resting comfortably in his chair. “Well, Slave King,” he said, unrolling a set of blueprints before his king. “Beyond some minor internal damage, the Devastation is nearly ready for the next phase of its construction…” Seeing that her husband was in good hooves, Luna decided to acquaint herself with her dragon-half daughter. “Pray tell, daughter,” she said, turning away from the Slave King and Ignatius. “Come, let us speak with thee.” “Of course, Princess Luna,” Sapphire said, pleased that her mistress wished to speak with her and slightly worried that she might embarrass herself. “What would you care to discuss.” “Daughter, we wouldst have thee tell us of thee and thy tribe,” Luna said, drawing the dragoness in close with her wing. “Daughter…” Sapphire murmured, wondering why she was referred so intimately by her mistress. “Verily, daughter, thou art of thy father the Slave King,” Luna explained, giving her a reassuring smile. “When we wed our husband, we vowed to accept all of his children as our own.” “But the Slave King has no children,” she protested, wondering how in Equestria her mistress could ever consider her worthy of being called anything more than a servant, let alone her daughter. Displeased by Sapphire’s reluctance to accept her as her mother, Luna gave her a stern look. “Child, dost thou accuseth us of possessing a serpentine tongue like foul Discord?” she asked, fixing her eyes squarely on her. “No… no, mistress, I just…” Sapphire stuttered, worried that she’d just ruined any chance of impressing the Slave King’s wife. “Daughter, art we a liar?” Luna pressed, drawing Sapphire closer to her. “No,” Sapphire said, admitting she didn’t think she wasn’t telling the truth. “It’s just that I’ve never had a mother before.” “We wouldst be honored to be thine,” Luna said, placing her head against the dragoness. “That is, if thou wouldst permit us to be.” “But what about the Slave King?” Sapphire asked, wondering what her lord would think of her claiming him as her father. “Worry not of thy father’s displeasure, we shalt shield thee,” she promised, holding Sapphire close. “But mayest we knowest thy name, fair daughter?” “I’m Sapphire, Princess Luna,” she said, feeling something wonderful within her breast as she was being held by her master’s wife. “But I’m noscale special.” “Thou art a child of the Earth and Moon, few canst claim such,” Luna said, reminding her of their shared heritage. “But more importantly, Sapphire, never forget that thou art our daughter and belongeth to us.” Never before had Sapphire considered herself worthy of such a thing, yet here was the moon herself claiming her as her whelp. “Thank you, mother…” she whispered, happy to accept the princess of the night as not only her mistress, but as her mother as well. Luna rested her head against her foal, and felt truly happy. Once she’d claimed all the beastfolk tribes as her own, and shown the Slave King the sincerity of her love for them, she was sure he would start believing that her love for him was genuine as well. Looking at her husband in the distance, she smiled knowing that soon another tribe would be added to their number. ***** It was well past midnight, and the clouds overhead shrouding the moon weren’t doing her any favors for visibility. Walking alone along the length of the Lonely Road, she looked at the overcast moon and glared at it. It was yet another thing that had cast her life into ruin. Yes, the moon. She and her sister, were the cause of all her troubles. If not for them, her beloved master wouldn’t have been cast aside by their lord like worthless slag upon the trash heap. Even now, part of her wished that he was still with her, traveling by her side. The thought brought a small smile to her otherwise cheerless heart, but such was not to be. Her master loved his friend, her father, more than that cruel tyrant ever deserved, and had steadfastly refused her entreaties to leave his side. Placing her hand, calloused by years of intense training to serve him, into her pocket, she ran her fingers over the coin’s face, and felt his engraved image with her fingertips. Like his cold, unfeeling heart, the coin refused to give way to the increasing pressure her fingers were placing on it. Being reminded of him, clouded her heart with a dark fury, and she desired to toss the hateful thing away from her. But then she remembered her master’s words to her, Take the boon with you, to remember me… us by. Even the anger she felt towards her father, for how he’d treated his friend, her beloved master, how he’d treated his own flesh and blood, for the injustice of it all, she couldn’t force her hand to cast aside the coin from her. Which was a good thing too, because despite it always dredging up hurtful memories she wished to forget, the coin granted her one boon of her choosing. If she wished to use it to bankrupt her father’s domain by demanding the entirety of his treasury, there was precious little he could do about it. Or maybe she might demand that he hand over his crown, pelt, or even his false arm. Imagining him without any of them, she smiled darkly and released a small laugh. She imagined herself standing haughtily before him, demanding all as her boon. She imagined her father glowering at her, as he removed his crown, pelt, and false arm, and placed them on his lap. She imagined him watching her from his throne, looking nothing like the stern tyrant she’d always known him to be. Bereft of his crown, pelt, and false arm, she imagined him looking small, petty and irrelevance. Towering over him, she removed her trophies from his weakened grasp. She imagined herself looking down at him, as he trembled beneath her harsh gaze, desperately trying to hide from her in the corner of his stone throne. Looking down at him, she saw that he was weak and frail, and barely even able to hold up his own head. All around him, the enemies that she’d dedicated her entire life to defend him from, began circling his throne like vultures waiting for their prey to perish. Even as weak as he was, the cowards still refused to openly attack him. Even now, after all that had passed between them, if only he’d admit that she was his daughter and that he loved her, she would have leapt upon them and shown them the true fury of the Earth. But he still adamantly refused her. Instead, he seemed to grow smaller and smaller as he looked up at her with his balefire filled eyes. Furious that even now he’d still deny her, she grit her teeth, and leaned down over him. He struggled to escape her shadow’s touch, but lacked the strength. All he could do now, was crawl about on his belly like some pathetic worm trying to escape its fate. By now both she and his throne had grown to enormous proportions, as he’d shrunken down to near insignificance. Beneath the foot of his throne, his enemies brayed for his blood as he desperately clung to his throne as he desperately tried eluding her shadow. By now, her shadow had nearly filled the entirety of his throne, and her father was hanging precipitously over the edge with a tenuous grip. She watched his struggle to hold on with perverse pleasure, as his five fingers began losing their hold on the edge of his throne. She looked down at her own hand, and counted. Five fingers, just like him. He looked up at her and gave her a hollow look, which matched the emptiness within her heart. Looking at her hand, she felt her gold eyes grow moist as she remembered the kind voice of her master uttering his oft spoken refrain, Remember, little pup, all parents love their children. Reaching out to save the father who never loved her, she cried out as his grip finally gave out and watched in horror as he plummeted to his end. She stretched out to reach him with her hand, a hand which had five fingers, to grasp his, but failed to reach him in time. Her eyes filled with hot tears as she watched him being torn asunder by his numerous enemies. In her grief, she sat down on the empty throne and wept for her loss. She looked down at his false arm, and placed her fingers against the hard arcanum steel that composed it. Its hand had five fingers, just like hers. Picking up her father’s crown, she looked into its empty eyes, before lightly placing a kiss on its forehead. Feeling alone and forgotten by everyfeather, she wrapped herself up in her father’s pelt. “Father, I love you… Why don’t you love me?” she whimpered, mourning alone in her solitude and abandonment. He loves you, more than you could possibly know, she heard somefeather whisper into her ear. Opening her golden eyes, she peered into the darkness trying to pierce its inky blackness with her gaze. But beyond the empty road, she saw nothing but the broken wastes of the badlands all around her. “Who’s there!” she shouted out, reaching for her arcanum long knife. But the wastes remained silent and nofeather answered her challenge. “I must be losing my damn mind,” she muttered to herself. Feeling heartbroken from her waking dream, she decided to rest for a spell. Finding a nearby stone, she laid down her weary head, and tried getting some shuteye. As the domain of shadows and dreams overtook her, she found herself all alone in a wide open meadow. All around her, vibrant green grass was growing and flowers of all kinds were in full bloom. Walking through the field she aimlessly wandered, content to allow the winds of fate to point the way. Beneath her feet, she felt the rich, soft earth give way to a hardened path. Deciding to see where it led, she stepped onto the path and followed it. For how long she walked, she didn’t know, but it felt right. The meadow’s path slowly gave way to gently rolling hills of heather and dale, until it eventually led her before a great tree so tall, its branches seemed to scrape the heavens. Wishing to rest from her sojourn, she sat down beneath the green canopy of the great tree’s gently swaying leaves and branches. Resting against the tree’s smooth golden bark, she looked up into the heavens and sighed. It was so peaceful, that she felt she could be happy staying here forever. Placing her hands behind her back, she closed her eyes and sat in silence, enjoying the warm summer’s breeze blowing through her red plumage. "Hello there…" she heard somefeather say to her. Opening her eyes, she tilted her head as her golden eyes darted back and forth trying to discover who it was that had just spoken to her. Although she had no idea who the voice belonged to, they sounded familiar to her. Sitting up, she scanned the nearby meadow looking for whoever it was, but came up empty handed once more. Beyond the large tree, all she could see for leagues in all directions, was endless plains and rolling meadows. Extending her wings, she was about to take off into the air to scout out her surroundings, when the selfsame voice spoke to her once more. “You look lost. Are you searching for someone?” Looking down, she found the source of the voice. Nestled between the gnarled roots of the great tree was a unicorn mare. She looked up at her with wide purple eyes, and offered her a kind smile. The light filtering through the canopy and lighting upon her light blue mane and coat, made them shimmer like the silvery light of the harvest moon. The young mare was resting upon her legs, seemingly without a care in world, as she hummed an enchanting melody. When she heard the unicorn’s tune, it brought tears to her eyes and soothed her weary heart. Listening to the music in silent contemplation, she imagined the warmth of her father’s embrace. Allowing the steady beat of his heart to beat in time with hers, letting her know how pleased he was with her, and that he loved her as his daughter. Finally experiencing the love of the father that she’d never dared hope she’d ever know, she cried, unashamed to let any see her joyful tears. Never before had she known such joy, and she looked down at the singing unicorn with gratitude shining in her reddened eyes. Enraptured by the song, she allowed the melody to carry her away with its lilting cadence. All at once, she knew what it was to experience her father’s pride at her accomplishments, to feel the gentle warmth of his smile, to hear him finally praise her. But like all good and wonderful things that must sometime end, so too did the mare’s loving melody. Sighing with disappointment as the last few notes of her wondrous song drifted away on the gentle summer breeze, she got down on her knees, and offered the unicorn her heartfelt thanks. “Did you like my song?” the unicorn asked with her melodic voice, tilting her ears forward and looking up expectantly at her guest. “Thank you. Your song… it touched me deeply,” she said, sniffing a few times and wiping her eyes on her sleeves. “Your welcome, Aria,” the mare replied, sitting up on her haunches and resting her head on her knee. “How do you know my name?” Aria asked, confused how this perfect stranger could know her well enough to sing a song, that could make her feel such a wellspring of emotion. “You know he loves you, don’t you,” she said, tilting up her head to look Aria in the eye. “Who loves me?” Aria asked, placing her hand on the mare’s silken mane. “Our father,” she answered, giving her a loving smile. Although she still felt the warmth of the mare’s song echoing through her soul, the bitter emptiness she held for her father’s cold indifference towards her and her sisters’, hardened her heart as she thought of him. “My father… He’s nothing but a cold, unfeeling tyrant!” she venomously hissed, feeling her anger towards him beginning to rise. “He feels nothing for nofeather, not even his oldest friend, or even his own flesh and blood. But what would you know about him?” “I know he loves you, Aria,” she replied, raising her hoof to embrace her much larger sibling. Feeling a kinship with the pony, Aria accepted her embrace, and ran her fingers through her mane. “How do you know he loves me?” she asked, desperately wishing that what she was being told, was the truth. “Because when I’ve looked into our father’s heart,” she replied, holding Aria close. “I’ve seen the love he holds for you within him.” “You keep saying our father. Who are you really?” Aria asked, wishing to know who this pony, that knew so much about her, was. “Somepony who loves you very much, sister,” she said, hugging her tightly. Realizing who it must be, Aria looked into the unicorn’s purple eyes. “You’re Little Bleu aren’t you?” she asked, basking in the warmth of their familial embrace. “Yes, Aria, I am,” she admitted, breaking their hug. Remembering how she’d felt when Master Scourge revealed the existence of the Slave King’s long deceased and much beloved daughter, Aria felt her heart twist into conflicted knots. She felt anger and resentment towards the daughter who had always known what had been forever denied to her, their father’s love. But when she beheld her kind and loving eyes, her heart melted, and she was unable to feel any anger towards her elder sister. “You know, Little Bleu, I’m envious of you,” she said, wiping away the tears from her eyes with her sleeves. “You’ve known our father’s love.” “I’m rather envious of you too, Aria,” Little Bleu replied, smiling as she joined her sister in tears. “It’s been so long since I’ve last hugged him.” Having finally removed the painful weight of regret from her soul, Aria felt as light as feather. “So what now?” she asked, lightly sniffing as she brushed Little Bleu’s mane. “Should I return home?” “Aria, that’s for you to decide,” Little Bleu said, looking up at the great tree overhead. “But you might find what you’re looking for out on the open road.” “What is it that I’m looking for?” Aria asked, wondering aloud what exactly it was that she really wanted. “Aria, given enough time, I’m sure you’ll discover it for yourself soon enough,” Little Bleu said, offering her a hug. “Farewell, sister. Until we meet again.” Looking at her hands, Aria saw that she was beginning to fade away. “Little Bleu, wait!” she cried out, wishing that their time together didn’t have to end quite so soon. Watch over daddy for me, Little Bleu called out, as she faded into the darkness. Opening her eyes, she found that it was still dark. A cool breeze blew past her, causing her to shiver. Standing up, she briskly rubbed her arms as she remembered the beauty of her sister’s song and no longer felt quite so cold. Looking to the east from whence she came, she noticed that the sky was threatening to turn pink. Soon it would be the dawn of a new day, and she needed to decide for herself if she wished to return home to face her father, or continue on her journey. Although her conversation with Little Bleu had soothed her heart, she still felt conflicted over her father’s stubborn refusal to claim her as his daughter. But perhaps she was right, and she’d discover for herself what it was that she was truly searching for. Knowing that she needed to do this for herself, she decided before returning to confront her father about her parentage, she would see her quest through to its end. She was determined that she would prove to everyfeather, herself, and even her stubborn father, by her journeys end that she was his daughter, and would no longer be denied her birthright. Stepping back onto the Lonely Road, she looked to her past in the east once more, before resuming her journey west to discover her destiny. ***** It was a cold night, but the heat from the slowly dying fire was keeping him warm, as well as the magical fire burning within his unusual companion. Outwardly she was nothing like him, but due to circumstances beyond his control, he found himself bound to her. Not that he minded her company, but as he rested beside her, he found himself wondering why she’d done anything for him at all. Of course there was the obvious reasons she’d stated, her impassioned claims of the love she held for him certainly sounded convincing. But beyond the superficial connection he held with her one time lover, the Slave King, the threads connecting him to her were tenuous at best. Snuggling against the downy softness of her feathers, he contentedly sighed. As bed mates were concerned, he could certainly do worse than sharing his bed with a beautiful woman, but there was something about her that still bothered him. He was sure it wasn’t her feathers, his best friend and adopted brother had been a griffin after all, and his feathers had never bothered him before. He didn’t even mind that she wasn’t more like him. Having spent the last ten years of his life amongst the diverse tribes of Equestria, had helped him gain an appreciation for some of the more exotic qualities of their women. Having been forced to serve in a brothel for a month by his former master, had certainly helped broaden his horizons when it came to his tastes in female companions. There was something else that was bothering him about her steadfast devotion to his happiness. If he didn’t know better, he’d have sworn she was trying to absolve herself from something. If that was the case, he could relate. Even after all these years, the guilt he felt regarding the capture of his brother Snowe still weighed heavily his heart. He only hoped that once they had reached the Western Sea, and he'd fulfilled his promise to them, that he could finally put both of them to rest. But the question that was ever on his mind was, once he’d fulfilled his vow to them, what next? He supposed he could wander the land, discovering what hidden treasures it held, maybe even placing stakes down and trying his hand out in the good life. After all, if his darker half had managed to spawn three tribes, perhaps he could possibly have children of his own one day as well. Looking at his companion, he contemplated her beauty. Perhaps once this was all over, he should seriously consider her offer. After all, if he really wanted to start a family, he needed a good woman by his side, and she did seem to care for him a great deal. Besides, how often was it that one could claim to have caught the eye of a literal goddess? Resting against her fluffy feathers, he wondered if all this good fortune was fate’s way of apologizing to him for all the struggles and heartbreak he’d experienced over the previous decade. Contemplating her divinity, he wondered what it was that had driven him to do the terrible things that he’d been told were his doing. Even now after being told of the Diamond Vale’s destruction, he still had difficulty believing that he could have been the one responsible for its ruination. Oh certainly visiting retribution on Lasher and his two goons would have been on his to do list. But killing the city’s entire population, without any concern for each victim’s individual guilt, he considered beyond the pale. He wondered if thoughts of what he’d done had ever weighed heavily on his mind, or if he’d become so arrogant and twisted over the years, that any regrets for his misdeeds were beneath his notice. He supposed that giving any further thought to himself was an exercise in futility. After all, she’d warned him that if he ever discovered his existence, his doomhounds and armies would surely follow him to the very ends of the earth to apprehend him if need be. For what reason he wasn’t quite sure, for if what she told him about himself was the truth, among the various deities of the Pantheon he was a veritable powerhouse. His domain, combined with his strength and cunning had made him strong and powerful. So the question remained, with such power at his beck and call, why would he fear a powerless mortal like himself? The only thing he possessed which might prove a threat to his uncontested rule over his realm was the face they both shared, and even that was no longer an issue. His companion had used her magic to mostly erase his scars, and had even granted him a new face to wear. Now beyond the brands of his former masters affixed to his shoulders, next to nothing connected him to himself. Pondering all the reasons he might have to persecute himself, he felt his beautiful companion stirring beside him. Running his fingers through the pink, downy softness of her belly, he felt strange desires welling up within him. It felt like a rather pressing need to do something. What exactly, he had no idea. He felt a boundless hunger within him, but knew no food would sate his appetite, and a great thirst, but suspected no amount of drink would slake it. He tried ignoring it, but soon found himself trembling against her. Every passing moment the unmet needs became ever greater, as he felt the burning hunger threatening to consume him. He flesh burned with cold fire, and his bones ached as if he were being ground beneath the weight of a great mountain. He was worried and confused by his condition, never before had he known such agony. But all the same, he welcomed it. Feeling this way, somehow felt right, he instinctually knew he just needed an outlet for his hunger, and all would be right in the world. Then he felt something new stirring within him. Although he still ached and burned, these new sensations made him momentarily forget his troubles. He felt a strength he never knew was possible for a mortal to possess, emanating from within his gut. It made him feel alive and powerful, and he desired, no needed more. Soon he became acutely aware of a similar strength all around him, almost as if he was bathing in a pool of raw energy. All around him, the strength and power were ebbing and flowing around him. Some of which felt quite similar to what he’d felt earlier, while others were foreign and unfamiliar to him. Feeling overwhelmed by these strange new sensations, he leaned hard against his companion and felt his hunger grow anew. He understood his desires clearly now, she possessed something he needed badly, but what it was, he wasn’t quite sure. If not for the kindness she’d shown him earlier, and her immense magical power, he knew he’d have no qualms taking from her what it was, that he didn’t know he needed. The hunger was growing impatient now, and the waiting felt nearly unbearable. While all the while, the primal desires his companion’s loveliness were eliciting within him, mocked and derided any notion of self-control. Suffering like this was nearly intolerable. All he knew was that she held something that he needed to possess, and if he didn’t answer his hunger soon, that he’d go mad. He felt her moving in her sleep, as she shifted her position against him. Ashamed of how aggressive he was feeling towards her, he held onto his companion as tightly as he dared, trying to delay the inevitable violence that was urging him forward. “Hmm… couldn’t sleep, love?” she murmured, placing her wing protectively over him. “Suzaku… there’s something wrong with me,” he gasped, afraid he couldn’t control himself any longer. “Elrey dear, what’s the matter?” she asked, looking at him with concern in her ruby eyes. “I hurt and ache all over,” he panted, trying his best to restrain himself from hurting the first soul in ages that had shown him any kindness. Placing her wing against his feverish forehead, she offered him a gentle smile. “It’s time, my love,” she said, caressing him with her wing. “Time… time for what?” he said between ragged breaths, unable to fully comprehend what exactly was happening to him. “Shh, my love,” she cooed into his ear, tenderly embracing him. “Don’t resist it. Soon it will be over, and all will be right once more. Let me take care of everything for you, darling.” Desperate for this misery to end, and frantic to possess what he sensed she was keeping hidden from him, he nodded his assent. “Do what you must, Suzaku,” he said, finally submitting himself to hunger which raged within him, and the love she claimed she had for him. Pleased that he was finally hers once more, she began singing softly to him as she unleashed her magic. When her magic took hold of him, he surrendered to the pleasure he felt as her divinity mingled with his eager flesh, and sighed when her magic and divinity entwined with his willing soul. Enraptured by her power, he lost himself to the exquisite pleasure she offered him. Gently pressing him to her breast with her wings, the love and passion she’d repressed for so long for her long estranged lover were rekindled, as she serenaded him with the song of creation. ***** “Well, Slave King,” Ignatius said, directing his master’s attention towards several marked points on the Devastation’s blueprints. “As you can see, beyond some minor internal damage, the Devastation is nearly ready for the next phase of its construction.” The Slave King carefully inspected the schematics. They were entering a critical phase, and the successful completion of this project hinged on their next decision. They only had enough crystals to prototype one of the two last critical components needed for the construction of the Devastation. While he was unconcerned regarding their skill and ability to build the great machine, recent events had made him concerned for its viability towards its intended purpose. “Ignatius,” the Slave King said, pointing to the plans. “What do you think should be our next step?” Ignatius looked into his master’s flickering green eyes, thoughtfully knitting his brow as he considered his lord’s question. “The mind or heart. Slave King, both components are needed for it to properly function,” he said, counting out the tally of the available crystals that Nidhogg had delivered from the Crystal Domain. “But I’m a simple smith, not a warrior or a philosopher. I don’t know which has more worth in battle.” “Yes,” the Slave King agreed, echoing the dragon-half’s assessment. “A sharp mind is needful, lest you become overly reliant on brute strength to seize victory.” “And without a heart, could you know bravery, or the worth of what you’re fighting for?” Ignatius said, looking out over the empty expanse of the manufactorium. “I fear both are needed in equal measure, Ignatius,” the Slave King said, stroking his beard. “With only a mind to control its actions, the Devastation would be cunning yet cruel, and with only a heart to guide it, it would be a stalwart defender, yet lack the wisdom to act.” "A most vexing decision indeed,” the Slave King agreed, wishing the choice was an easier one to make. “Once, I would have chosen cunning without a second thought towards its possible cruelty. Yet, now I’m not so certain that’s the prudent course to take.” “Master, we have plenty of time before its scheduled for completion,” Ignatius pointed out, reminding him they had centuries more to complete their task. “Ignatius, but what if I don’t?” the Slave King countered, knitting his brow with worry. “As weak as I am now, maybe I no longer have the luxury of time.” “What do you mean, Slave King?” Ignatius asked, rushing to his master’s side with concern. He found the very idea that his nigh invulnerable liege had befallen to some calamity troubling. “You are the Earth, master. Its strength, its power, is yours to command. How could the mighty Lord of Earth ever be weak?” “Ignatius, I have fallen prey to a foul curse,” the Slave King said, finally admitting the severity of his condition to him. Looking warily towards Princess Luna and Sapphire, he shook his head. “I know not the origins of the curse, whether it was cast upon me by a disgruntled member of the Pantheon or from the shadows by some cabal conspiring against me. It’s only thanks to Princess Celestia and my wife’s benevolence that I even survived, though my ordeal will leave me significantly weakened into the foreseeable future.” “Are we to war then, my king?” Ignatius asked, feeling a barely contained fury beneath his scaly hide, enraged that any would dare to so cravenly attack his beloved master in such a cowardly manner. “No, Ignatius,” the Slave King said, raising his metal hand and shaking his head. “For now we gather our strength, and bide out time. Those who sought my ruin will make themselves known soon enough, once they have grown overly bold and have revealed themselves to us, only then we will strike with down all the fury of the Earth!” “Slave King, I’ll see to it personally that the manufactorium runs without issue,” he said, desiring to be fully prepared when the time to strike was at claw. “But the question of what should be built next, still remains.” “And what question is that, husband?” Princess Luna asked from behind his chair, placing her head upon his shoulder. “A bothersome one, wife,” he replied, not sure that she could offer him any council of value. “Mistress, I’m afraid the specifics behind our debate are rather technical,” Ignatius explained, hoping to dissuade her from prying too deeply into the war machine’s intended purpose and schematics. Wishing to aid her newfound mother, Sapphire leapt to her defense. “Ignatius, our mother doesn’t need to know every last detail,” she said, hoping to prove to them both, that neither she nor her mother should be discounted any further. “A simple rundown of the Devastation's construction so far, should be adequate to acquaint her.” “Our mother?” Ignatius slowly asked, narrowing his eyes cautiously as the Slave King. “Master, does that mean I should start calling you dad?” “Ignatius…” the Slave King warned, his tone suggesting that he shouldn’t pursue that line of thinking any further. “We shan’t speak for our husband,” Luna said, offering the dragon-half a warm smile. “But we wouldst be delighted if thou wert to claim us as thy mother.” Knowing that entertaining this line of thinking any further might raise some dangerous questions, the Slave King decided to redirect the conversation towards something more innocuous. “Wife, we’re building a war machine. The Devastation,” he explained, pointing towards the schematic laid out on the table in front of them. He waited as she levitated the plans in front of her, and allowed her a few moments to acquaint herself with them before continuing. “Husband, we see the plans for thy engine of war is ambitious,” she remarked, impressed by the scope of such a massive undertaking. “We art impressed with the greatness of thy vision.” “Once completed, it will be the war machine,” the Slave King said, pointing towards two additional schematics. “However, two key components are required before we can finally complete its construction. Its heart and mind. We must choose which should be built first.” “Pray tell, beloved, why not buildeth the twain in tandem?” she asked, still examining the blueprints. “We lack the material to do so, mistress,” Ignatius explained, showing her the available stockpile of crystals left in the manufactorium’s inventory. “So, wife,” the Slave King asked, turning towards Luna to face her. “What should we build next?” “We wouldst have thee showeth us thy great work, husband, that we mayest advise thee properly,” Luna said, placing the blueprints back on the table. “Very well, wife,” the Slave King agreed, directing Ignatius to take them to where the half-finished Devastation was being built. Ignatius nodded, and began pulling several levers. With a lurch, the platform they were standing on began moving along a track through the manufactorium towards their destination. Looking over the guardrail, Luna gawked as the platform slowly moved above the workshop floor beneath them. Once the machine was within view, she stared in awe at its massive size. Although she’d seen it up close, she was unable to appreciate how large it actually was, until she was viewing it from above. Amused by her wonder, the Slave King raised his arm and pointed towards the machine which he’d spent the better part of five centuries constructing. “Wife,” he said, offering her a small smile. “I present to you the Devastation.” “Husband,” she said, studying the marvelous machine. “Thy drawings wert insufficient in describing thy work's magnificence. “So tell me, wife,” he asked, curious to know her opinion. “What should be built next? Its mind, or its heart?” Pausing for a moment as she contemplated her answer, Luna studied the machine and said, “Husband, we believeth thy machine needeth…”