//------------------------------// // (13) Lunar Meeting // Story: Rorschach in Equestria // by Ex-Nihilos //------------------------------// Chapter 13: Lunar Meeting Edited by Imperius (You probably thought this was a April fools chapter- well it's not, I'm not that kind of person. It's genuine)         “Rest in peace, Daisy, we’ll miss you.” Applejack gently spoke to the mound of dirt that now served as a resting place for their friend. Twilight, Macintosh, Fluttershy, Applebloom, and Granny Smith stood nearby to join the small ceremony for Daisy. Behind them all was the rest of the cows waiting with respectful patience for them to finish saying their last words to her. It was a quiet spot that had been chosen, just off the edge of the pastures near the forest where the luscious green grass began to give way to a dirty forest floor. A simple wooden fence was built around the dark mound of dirt where a simple headstone was laid to show its meaning. It was a perfect spot for their friend’s final resting place, and they weren’t even the ones who picked it. Late into the evening Rorschach returned to the farm. He didn’t say much much, there was little sign that he had done anything. He simply told Big Macintosh where he ‘did away’ with the body. Applejack had been furious at this; she expected to find her dear friend just dumped away like trash. She didn’t get a chance to take out her frustration at him though; he disappeared quickly after replacing the clean axe. When she and her friends went down to Daisy’s final resting place they were surprised at the formality of the grave. A circular fence was arranged around the large mound with the simple headstone, it was fresh cut and still bled sap.  On top of the simple headstone was Daisy’s signature hat, the same limp daisy that was always on bounced in the wind. Any anger Applejack had was replaced with a tranquil sadness at seeing the humble grave of her friend. She ran back to bring down the family to say their goodbyes. Applebloom finally relented, still angry and heart broken, but felt compelled to go to her friend for at least one last time. Not even the comfort from the ever empathetic Fluttershy could deter her mind; she still blamed Rorschach and hated him but now before the peaceful grave she could only weep and lean into the embrace of her sister as Celestia’s sun set over the horizon to cast an orange glow across the sky. Yet, even the sun’s beauty couldn’t bring the serenity it should have. Thoughts and minds were in turmoil both at Daisy’s funeral and in the conscience of a lone man that quietly walked back into the forest, hands shoved deep into his pockets. A crowd of crows smugly watched with beady black eyes as he passed silently by. They dispersed slowly once he was gone, satisfied with what they had witnessed. Their wings, a silent cacophony of events to come. Strange how Trixie has been quiet since yesterday, when I returned last evening she didn’t say word to me but seemed thankful for my presence again. Interesting how she shies away whenever I approach. I’ve been thankful for the silence but now find it to be disturbing. Out of place for her. Perhaps I should just let it be, don’t question a blessing. And yet. I sit by the fire as I usually do when nothing was left to be done, debating on whether to ask her about her silence. It’s only mid-morning and I have too much time to think. Should give the farm a wide berth for a time, grieving families shouldn’t need to deal with the executioner coming by to check up on them. They’ll recover in time but some pains may stay. Applebloom especially. I glance down at the dirt between my feet, saddens me that she was forced to be exposed to a death. At least in this way she’ll have me to blame, will let the grief go by better. The extra time gained from not going to the farm will be difficult to fill. I hate the idleness above all else. Could just use the extra time to hunt the eels as I had originally planned, though not sure I see a point anymore to it all. Am I just fulfilling a purpose, or just a bloodlust? In the end what was there left to do? Trixie ghosting through my home, occupying her time with random tasks, especially hasn’t helped my mood or my thoughts. She’s suffering a similar boredom as I do, though her’s was not from the lacking sense of purpose as I feel. I’m not sure what unsettles her now, and oddly enough I seem to care now as she’s bothering me more than usual with her incessant loafing about. It seemed it was time to get an answer, she was back from gathering firewood, a task she oddly volunteered herself to do. The sound of branches and pieces of wood striking the ground harshly takes my attention away from my ill thoughts. The azure unicorn huffs a sigh as she enters the cave and with her magic deposits her star studded cloak onto a rock. She leaves the new firewood by the entrance for use, though she makes no motion to actually use it yet. Her mood hasn’t changed it seems, she looks downcast and barely acknowledges my presence, usually at this point she calls me a monster or embellishes herself again. There’s a noticeable lack of either. I sigh, I know I’ll regret asking but I feel compelled to ask, this mysterious air of depression was grating against what little nerve I had left. “What’s bothering you?” I ask her. She jumps a bit at the sound of my voice, it isn’t often I speak and so far it has only been to counter one of her annoying outbursts. Must be odd to her to hear me ask a question of worry. She turns her nose up and speaks in her casually berating tone, “Nothing is wrong, monster. I don’t know why you would ask.” I’m not about to buy that shell of hers anymore, at this point it’s becoming useless though she seems to not realize it. For a moment there’s only the fire’s snapping between us. She’s expecting one of my quips back at her, but when curiosity gets the better of her and she turns to look at me she finds my head tilted towards her expectantly. Trixie sighs, sadder than before and she sits by the fire, staring into its flames. Curious now I join her on the ground, watching her gaze into the fire, eyes full of melancholy. The day before I heard a reflection of Moloch the Mystic in her words, but now I see no connection ever really existed. She was proud, that was obvious by how loud she was, but if I were to compare only that trait of hers with Moloch I might as well say all car salesmen had penchants for villainy (subsequent investigation I put into potential connection only found twenty percent of all New York car salesmen took part in fraud or other illegal activities). The reminder of Moloch fades away with the genuine sadness she showed in her eyes, the light of flames dancing in her irises. Even in his final days I don’t think Moloch ever regretted anything. The only sadness he really expressed was for his own fate and not for the people he hurt. This was different. She speaks slowly and quietly to break the silence that fell between us, I have to strain to hear her over the gentle cackle of embers burning in the center of the fire, “I followed you to Sweet Apple Acres.” “Why?” I ask her. Don’t feel angry that she followed me, an inkling in my mind suggested it was possible she would do such a thing. No, I was curious as to not why she did it but rather what she saw. More importantly if she saw my butchering. “I didn’t want to be alone…” she quietly replied. I wasn’t sure I understood what she meant. She’d made it very known she didn’t care for my company, it was merely a convenience to her and an annoyance to me. I don’t see how following me would relieve that loneliness, not until she went back to her own kind and made peace with them. She continued on, “I thought you were a monster, something that lived in a cave that stalked out to… I’m not sure what. I saw you though, talking to that farmer.” “Applejack,” I clarify for her absently. Was she... opening up to me? Why? “I saw you talking to her and she regarded you as a friend. She looked up to you, I heard her tell you stories about her other friends… she looked really happy to see you....” she says quietly, I’m beginning to fit the pieces together. I nod and finish the thought for her, “And you want the same…” She returns the nodding gesture, I can see glimmer with the watery light of building tears. “Later on I watched you go into the field with that cow.” I frown, was afraid that she saw it but clenched my jaw shut to keep myself from speaking. I wanted to see what she had to say about it, to gauge what innocence she had. “I couldn’t understand what was wrong and when you left I saw her. I had no idea what it was but I could see she was suffering. I didn’t know what to do so I hid in the tree line again and hoped a pony or you would return to help her… and then you came back… with the axe and I understood what you were planning to do, and what you did do. I ran away after that. I was sickened by what you did but when I tried to ask myself what else was there to do… I didn’t have an answer.” I lean back against the rock, “I see…”  my voice trails off as I try to make sense of what she was saying. Her reaction reminded me of Fluttershy’s. A helpless realization that the only choice to be made wasn’t the best one. “Why did you do it?” she asks me. “…She was suffering.” I simply answer as I stare into the fire with her. From the corner of my eye I see a motion and turn to see her shaking her head slowly and solemnly, “No, why did you choose to be the one to do it, even knowing they’ll hate you now.” I wasn’t sure how to explain to her that I didn’t care what opinion or judgment others held for me. It was likely why it came as a shock for me to know that Applejack considered me a friend. Perhaps for too long I’ve assumed the worst reaction in people, but now I was not dealing with people. Not anymore. “It had to be done.” I tell her. I turn to look at her and ask quietly, “Why not me? As you remind me, I am a monster to things like your kind.” “That’s just it; I don’t think you’re really a monster. I’m not sure what to call you but a monster isn’t right. I don’t know what you are, I’ve seen you kill two creatures without hesitation, remorse, or even thought like any monster would. Yet moments later you’ll hide yourself entirely in silence and listen patiently as ponies talk to you. And if something like you can make friends with other ponies…” “Why can’t you as well?” I say to finish her train of thought. She nods to me and I cannot help but sigh, she didn’t understand the harsh truth behind her actions. I can read people better than they can read themselves, every motion or facial expression, no matter how subtle, isn’t lost upon me. I could understand the psychology of any person for the sake of interrogation and how best to press them, seems the skill was going to need to serve a different purpose. If any other pony told Trixie her own faults she wouldn’t listen, they weren’t punitive enough. “Trixie.” At the sound of her name she turns to me, the first time she’s focused on me and not the fire. She blinked a few times to try and clear the sudden change of light. Probably couldn’t see me very clearly, she only needed to listen. “You are abrasive, arrogant, and egotistical…” with each word she shudders as if she had been struck, a single tear falls from her cheek but I don’t relent. “And you do it because you’re afraid. You’re afraid to show your true self…” I tell her. She tries to look me in the eyes as I speak, the silent shock of hearing me justify her actions slowly fading away. I go on, “You’re afraid that they won’t accept you. From the stories you’ve told me you always embellish, you’re a compulsive liar. “Yet you don’t have to be.” I say as I reach down to take one of the sticks she gathered, the closest that fell to me, to poke at the flaming embers in the center of the healthy fire. “You all confuse me, greatly. Won’t pretend to understand why but they, your kind, accept others unconditionally. Quick to trust and fast to forgive. If you would give them a chance, go to the town and make things right, they’ll accept you.” “What if you’re wrong?” she asks me hesitantly. A wisp of sparks is kicked up as I jab the stick into a bothersome ember that wouldn’t break to pieces. I turn to look at her and try my best to keep the gruffness in my voice down, didn’t work but counted to try. “When it comes to judging others I rarely make mistakes. I have a…. reliable source that believes you would do fine. Better than here at least, I cannot offer what you seek. I do not make friends, I prefer to be by myself than be bothered with others.” We fall back into silence, staring into the fire. Trixie wipes away the tears that stained her cheek and stifles a sob, “Don’t you ever get bothered by the loneliness?” I shrug. I can’t reflect the emotional fear she seemed to have of being alone; having no one to cheer for her deeds or applaud her performance. “I’ve been alone all my life, don’t see how that’s different here.” I said to her in all confidence. One of the reasons adjusting to the forest so well might be lacking the need for human interaction. Actually more calming now I had no need to deal with them. She turns from looking at the fire to cast a scrutinizing glance in my direction, “You’ve been alone your entire life?” I nod. She grimaces, the idea of being all alone seemed to horrify her. Makes sense, being a showpony she must thrive on attention. To be left alone in the trash and in the gutter must seem an awful way to live to her. “You learn to deal with it, or some learn to deal with it,” I tell her but she doesn’t seem very convinced by it, didn’t expect her to be.         “Finally decide to go to the town yet?” I ask her as I stand up to grab my journal. It’s been ages since I’ve written any entry of worth, mostly notes and thoughts, I keep it out of habit if anything else.         Trixie shuffles out of the way, watching as I pick up the journal, “Not yet, but I suppose I’ll have to sometime soon... is that your diary?” she asks me.         “No just a journal. A record of events and thoughts… not a diary.” I say. I’m a little on edge that she’s interested in it now. Curiosity was not something I liked much. I shook my head and took up my pencil and added notes under my day’s entry.         “So does that mean I can read it?” Trixie asks me, perking up at the prospect of something interesting to read.         “No.”         “Oh… well Trixie wasn’t interested in reading it anyway, especially when you’re the one that wrote it,” she huffs. She still watches intently as I write, curious to the way I moved my hand to form letters and words onto paper without the use of magic.         “Mhm. Planning to leave yet?” I ask her.         Her bravado deflates again and she looks to the ground, “I... Trixie hadn’t really thought about what she’d even do or say. I... she doesn’t feel ready just yet to talk to anypony there.”         She turns to see me shrug, her eyes widen in surprise as what I say next, “Do so when you’re ready. Just don’t get on my nerves.”         Finding her mouth still agape she quickly shakes her head and looks at me again incredulously, “So… so I can stay? Even after calling you a monster and insulting you?”         “Hurm, reminding me why you annoy me doesn’t do well for your case. But yes, for now. Your… safety… is an extension of my duty.” Hadn’t really thought about it, but it was true that part of the reason I was killing monsters was for the safety of the nearby town and its inhabitants. Trixie was annoying, but the more I thought upon it I couldn’t see any reasons against counting her as one of the innocents I want to protect. She wasn’t the most likable… thing… but she hasn’t stolen, never killed, and most likely never broke any other laws that I know of. She didn’t warrant judgment, should be watched perhaps, but not judged.         She smiles at me, strangely enough it feels sincere and thankful. So long in the forest and homeless, to finally have someone come to offer her kindness and protection, to show that they cared. I should probably explain to her that I do not in fact care about her existence and that I found her very presence aggravating to my health. I stopped myself from saying such but I noticed I’ve been writing it down in my journal. I quickly scratch it out and put the book down. Standing up I gesture to the entrance, “Now though, you’ll be helping with the upkeep of this place. Need more water and food. You’ll be joining me to help with that.”         “WHAT?! The Great and Powerful Trixie does not work!” she shouted in outrage.         “She does if she wants a roof over her head. Out. Now.”  I point outside and we glare at each other in a battle of wills. It was over from the start, the ‘Great and Powerful’ Trixie trots outside muttering what must have been strong insults for ponies under her breath. I’d heard worse walking down the street in New York, far worse.         Stepping outside with her I notice the sun had fallen from its highest point in the sky, the day was beginning to end already. Was it me or were the days getting shorter? I let the question fall from my mind as I walk out into the forest with Trixie in tow. She’s still voicing her protests but I know better than to take her at face value. I think she’s glad that I’m including her in my time now instead of just tolerating her existence, or perhaps she would rather there be someone nearby to hear her complain.         It didn’t take long to get to one of my usual spots where a patch of wild oats and barley grew. After a while Trixie finally stops arguing and begrudgingly helps carry what I’ve gathered. She watches careful how I choose and pick what to take; I remember earlier that she never understood how to survive out here. I don’t bother to explain but show her through my actions what was good and bad, my own learning from trial and error over the weeks and instinct. After a time I find I’m the one speaking and it was she who was listening.         “If you want to be ready to go to the town it would be best to learn your faults. Being overly arrogant and offensive is not the approach to take.”         Trixie tsked, “I am not! Even if Trixie was why should she take the advice of you of all things?”         “Not me, I mean others. Sometimes I’ll meet with Zecora to trade, perhaps now I’ll send you instead to talk to her. She’ll tell me how you acted. That should give you an idea of how to approach the town.” Picking up the last of the barley and oats I stand up. Shrugging I add in, “Don’t have to stop being prideful, part of who you are, just be manageable about it. You’ll have to find the right tone to it.”         “Manageable, huh?” she said, tapping a hoof to her chin. She falls silent, thinking on what I’ve said as we leave the patch for the river.         She’s still quiet after we’ve gotten to the river, sitting idly by the river bank skimming rocks against the water’s surface as I check my makeshift filters for fresh water. Dumping out the old charcoal for a new batch I chance a glance over at her. She’s staring intently at the water, more specifically her reflection in the water. I wonder what she sees in it. Moving the buckets of fresh water away from the charcoal I move over to join her. She doesn’t look up at me but I see her eyes flick over to my silhouette in the water join her own. Together we stand there contemplating our own reflections in the water.         Trixie’s reflection looked clear and defined despite the wavering currents of the water. It was obvious she was a pony, the horn atop her brow defined, and her mane shined clearly from the water. Her reflection in the river was a deeper, brighter blue compared to the rest of her surroundings. The eyes, the clear expression of stern concentration was clear against the shifting water’s surface. It was obvious who she was and clear that she was reflecting upon the image she saw.         My own comparison wasn’t much to look at. I was tall and, despite the clearness of the water, I was but a murky silhouette of tarnished brown, broken up only by the white stain of my face. Nothing seemed sharp, no clear lines to be made that separated my blur with the rest of the darkened water. I was looking down on a reflection of myself and I wasn’t sure what I saw in it. The black Rorschach, the image that defined my very being, could barely be made out against the white of my face, just an indistinct darkness, transparent and unimaginative.         “Should get back, sun is setting.” I say turning away from my silhouette in the water. Picking up the buckets of water I wait for Trixie to pick up what we gathered earlier in the day with her magic. I’m glad they glow violet, would remind me too much of another person to see the color blue levitating objects. She passes me by, headed back to the cave, I cannot help but stand for a moment to watch the sun set over the horizon. The orange colors of the sky, bleeding down into the river that gently rolled by. Colors were more vibrant here, or it might have been the lack of suffocating smog choking the sky.         I turn away to the cave and follow the violet glow in front of me back to my shelter.         Celestia’s hoofsteps echoed throughout the cold hallway, the moonlight that shined past the tall stain glassed windows lit her way through the darkened hall. The air outside howled as a cold eastern wind set in to bring winter once again on this cloudy, starless night. Lines of frost had formed along the edges of the glass, webbing across in chaotic lines into each other looking for a way to breach the glass and enter the warmer hall within. To Celestia, though the stone hallway may as well be open to the cold, she found no warmth in the cobblestone walls or the segmented red carpet that she trotted upon. The only sign of warmth and safety to be found emanated from a door left ajar down the hall. It was the third door down from the library she remembered, she always remembered. She shivered in the coldness as a howling wind rattled one of the panels in the window.         She pressed on through the darkness until she reached the warm orange glow that shined through the crack of the door. She felt a smile play upon her lips as she heard the familiar scraping of a quill upon parchment. Her hoof reached out to push the door inward, trying her best to resist the joyful urge to rush in to see him. A voice, harsh and rough like the frost that coated the windows outside stopped her and forced her to shudder back from the door.         “Have you finally lost all sense of reason, compagno? What is it that you do now?” it asked. Celestia pressed herself against the wall to try and see through the crack in the door. All she saw the immense shadow of a standing thing look down upon one that sat but could make nothing else out from the soft fiery light within.         The sound of writing didn’t stop as another calmer and smoother voice spoke, “Their banking system is archaic and problematic. I’m writing out a new, more effective tax code for them to follow. It will alleviate some problems that have been arising within their economy, especially in regards to the farmers.”         “Benissimo!” The other voice cried out in sarcasm, “What do you hope to do next, fix the laws or write out a Credo for them?”         “If the need should arise I presume. As they say after all: beati possidentes.” The other replied with a light chuckle.         Celestia jumped and stifled a surprise gasp when she heard something slam against the desk. The rough voice spoke back angrily, “You take this all in stride! Dio non voglia! Siete caduti in eresia!?”                  The writing stops and there is the sound of motion, someone being shoved away, and the lighter voice speaks again, “I understand your anger, brother, but calm yourself. You only fall to the language in Rome when temper clouds your judgment. I’ll ask that you do not take my faith into question, you of all people should know I walk with Lord and have not faltered even after our departure from the natural realm. I know the Lord is still with us, the Holy Spirit is still with us. Dominus illuminatio mea. You would do well to remember that phrase for yourself.”         There is a brief silence, Celestia could only imagine the two speakers glaring at each other until the rough voice sighs, its reply is slow at first, “Amicus usque ad aras. I am your friend in all things, compagno, but when will you see this is not the kingdom that you so wish it to be. This is not the kingdom of Heaven.”         “I will not have this discussion again with you.” The smooth voice speaks harshly and quickly now, “You should remember the praises to the Lord you gave upon this place in the past instead of losing your faith now dwelling upon the Lord’s path for us. Now leave me be, we will speak of this after morning prayers. Deus tecum, brother, get some sleep.”         There was the hint of a sneer in the rough voice as it replied, “Dominus vobiscum. I hope you realize the mistake you are making, compagno.” Celestia shrunk back as the door was swung open from the inward and a massive and dark figure stepped out. It did not see her as it turned away in the other direction towards the library. The sound of its metal armor added to the echoes of its loud, rage filled gait as it swiftly reached the wooden door. Taking ahold of its metal handle the large figure swung it open and slammed it shut once it had entered.         Celestia breathed a sigh of relief that she didn’t know she had been keeping.  She heard from inside the sound of writing start up again. More hesitant than before she gently opened the door all the way so she could enter. Inside next to the orange glow of a lantern she saw a familiar figure bent over the desk. The quill resting in his hand danced upon the page, breaking only to be once again dipped in ink. She entered the room quietly, hoping to not yet disturb his work so soon after yet another confrontation with his brother. She idly glanced to his scarce bed where his sword lay. The familiar emerald set into the blade’s silver hilt shined back at her. She turned away to regard the figure again. Even now so late at night he wore his armor, he once said it gave him better comfort as it reminded him of his closeness and devotion to his God. The white tabard with the large red cross across his back seemed to glow in the soft light.         The writing stopped as the man looked up and slowly turned around. He smiled softly when he saw her standing there. She felt the corner of her lips turn up in her own smile, yet now it felt more sad than happy. The man laughed softly and spoke in echoes.         “Little Soleil. You shouldn’t be up so late….”         Just as always the dream ended and Celestia woke to find herself looking up at the white marble of the ceiling. Her breathing was rapid from the intense dream. The princess closed her eyes and tried to breathe slowly to calm her quickly beating heart. This wasn’t the first time she had the dream, nor would it be the last, but knowing that out in the Everfree Forest was another human had sparked her thoughts of the past again. The emerald in the sword’s hilt was still burnt into her memory, a time before Discord had taken control of Equestria and she and her sister were still young, perhaps no older than Twilight Sparkle and her friends.         She sighed and rested her head against the pillow again. Turning to look out to her balcony she saw the stars outside twinkling. Luna had brought another beautiful spring night to Equestria. To keep her thoughts from straying again to her dream she counted the constellations she knew of. Luna had taught her a few but the names of them still eluded her. There were just so many in the sky and the subtlety of the pictures they made was amazing.         Celestia lay her head back against the pillow and slowly felt herself drift back into a more peaceful sleep that would not be plagued by nostalgic dreams. She wondered quietly what Luna was doing; she hadn’t spoken much to her about anything since she told her sister her decision about the human.         Night had fully fallen and I find myself sitting idly by the fire like any other night. My mood is strangely uplifted, the day had been better than I expected. In part it might be thanks to Trixie. She still annoyed me enough to make me want to rip off my own ears, but despite all things I find her presence more tolerable. Better than barely, but still quite low.         I glance over to her sleeping form. Since she’s arrived she’s taken over what once served as my own bed, but I don’t care. I don’t sleep well anymore. Too many memories, too many ill thoughts invade my mind in my dreams. I do not know why but I’ve wondered if it has something to do with the blinding headaches that have plagued me in the past. It’s been weeks since I last had one but I can still hear the humming sometimes. When I try to focus on it, it disappears. I don’t know what it is but it makes me uneasy. What was it that haunted the back of my thoughts?         I sit back in the silence until I choose to pull out my journal and make notes about on possible explanations for the whine. Most of it was useless; I had no tangible evidence to go on. It was still better than nothing, I’ve worked with worse though never has my investigation had anything to do with myself.         I stop when I have the unbearable feeling of being watched. I always trusted my instincts and few times has it failed me, I was being watched. I wait a few seconds and the sound of a branch breaking in the forest nearby confirms my belief. I put the journal down and turn over to face the wall of the forest, waiting for whatever it was to show itself. I can only hope it’s not a basilisk or wyvern, annoying things, those.         To my surprise it was not a monster that appeared from the forest but rather a peculiar pony. Had both wings and horn. She was a deep navy blue and her mane billowed behind her, dark black and blue dotted with twinkling stars like the night sky. She was taller than other ponies, but I got the feeling she wasn’t as tall as her sister.         “Thou art the human that hath invaded our land.” she stated, staring intently at me in an attempt to see my eyes past my face.         “Princess Luna, I presume,” I reply. I stand up and shove my hands into my pocket. Stepping out of the cave into the grove I met her halfway. Silently we regarded each other harshly. I vaguely wonder if she was here to kill me. Thoughts of Nightmare Moon cross my mind. “To what do I owe the pleasure,” I mockingly ask and abruptly she answers me.         “We… I… know what you did to the Diamond Dogs. We saw you during the night dispatch with their lives,”  she coolly stated to me. She seems to be having trouble keeping her voice in check. She seems ready to start shouting at any second.         “Did you now? And?” I ask.         “Thou art a killer and my sister doth not believe us.” she stated angrily. “Hurm, so you wish to take the matter upon yourself. So, you’re here and you’ve confronted me, now what?” I ask her.         “We would demand you to return to the vile place you came from, your kind is not welcome here.” she says and takes a step forward towards me. I don’t react, she won’t do anything. Out of respect for her sister perhaps or her own uncertainty I don’t know. Her stance though screams that she’s not about to fight me on anything above words. Such were leaders like her, perhaps not a politician but monarchy just as bad. Liars, keeping themselves in gilded cages away from the commoners.          “Not going to happen,” I say to her.         “Then we shalt force you to a dungeon for your crimes. Thou hath spilt blood, taken lives.” “They were criminals. Those dogs deserved to be put down,” I say. “And who are thee do pass such judgement?!” she all but yelled. “What thou hast done was murder!”         She had crossed a line. I take a menacing step towards her and she retreats a step. I jab a thumb towards myself. “I. Am not. A murderer,” I growl dangerously. “I delivered justice. What would you have done? And for that matter, what did you ever do? I saw no guards in that town, no kind of protection besides an ignorant and complacent civilian police force. I was all that stood between them and those... dogs. Your sister came here with guards, is that how it works? The immortal god monarchs have guards to satiate their own vanity but the common citizens must fend for themselves?” The princess went silent, had no rebuttal. Wasn’t about to let up, though. She came here to accuse me while she ignored her own guilt. “Go home, go back to sitting in your gilded castle and lamenting your own woes. In the meantime I will protect your subjects. I will kill the predators of the forest that you allow to exist, I will bring justice to the criminals you ignore. For all your age and power you’re still just child, blind to the troubles of anyone but yourself. You want proof of my ‘crime’? North of town, two shallow graves, you will find evidence, but of your own crimes, your negligence, your carelessness.” I turn my back to her, heading back to my cave. I pause at the entrance, felt a need to twist the knife. “They would not have stopped with kidnapping or theft. Would have escalated, someone would have died eventually. I know criminals, I know what evil is capable of... you should know better than any.” Don’t turn to see the effect my words have on her, don’t particularly care. Let her think what she wants, she was just another useless, self absorbed monarch. Faintly I hear the sound of wings and I know she’s gone. In the back of my mind a voice spoke. ‘Guilty, They’re all guilty,’ a voice whispers in my ear. [Huge props out to Imperius for helping me out on the last part of the chapter with Luna, Also one of my readers I know has been stealing my socks. I know which who it is, I'm not gonna ask what you're doing with them because I can already assume. Just stop it. -Ex Nihilos]