//------------------------------// // Chapter 8: Abduction & small-talk // Story: The Sun & the Rose // by soulpillar //------------------------------// Gareth sat cross-legged atop the rug, staring into the crackling fire. He closed his eyes, gripping his trembling upper arms. The thick, soothing smell of smoke filled his nostrils, drowning out the lingering, burning stench of bile. Styre dropped Gareth's jacket onto his shoulders. Styre favoured him with a half-smile before turning away. Gareth sighed, reaching for the waterskin in his lap. He pulled the cap off with his teeth and squeezed; a jet of cool water flooded into his mouth. He was parched and weak; every little bit helped. No, every feeling, however mundane, helped. The last thing he wanted right now was to have to think. Therefore, he focused on the ponies behind him. "I'm sorry for barging into your room so late," Styre said. "No, no, it's fine," Gleaming Horizon whispered. "How is he?" "I don't know. I just saw him curled up outside, then, well, you know the rest." Gareth heard Gleaming trot up beside him. "Gareth… how are you?" Gleaming Horizon murmured, looked at him as though touching him might cause him to shatter into a million pieces. Bitterly, Gareth knew that wasn't far from the truth. He couldn't bear to turn to her, so Gareth just kept staring forward. The roaring fireplace began to burn a wavy afterimage into his eyes. Noble Era's words just kept hitting him like a smith's hammer. 'Therein lies the problem, doesn't it? You affect her, Gareth, deeply. I've seen it.' "Gareth?" Gleaming continued. 'But if you stop this façade now, before it’s too late, if you're honest with her, you can prevent this.' "Leave him. Trust me," Styre warned. Gareth stared down at his hands. What was he thinking? He drew his blade on Noble Era, and in that moment, he would have gladly slit his throat just to silence him. That urge, that murderous violence, he had tried for years to put it all behind him. It scared Cecilia, the way his body just… took over when threats came. It was natural, Father said; a man's mind could not be trusted to keep him out of danger, but the Body? The Body could be trusted. From the Body arose instinct; it was the key to a good archer, a good soldier… a good warrior. Gareth wasn't just a good warrior. He was the best. Yet… Gareth found that he didn't want to be a good warrior anymore. He wanted to be a good husband, Cecilia's husband. She needed the best, but the Body could not be denied. It still reacted; it still seethed, twisting like an angry beast. The harder he tried to suppress it, the stronger it became. Maybe the ponies were right. 'Ucigas'. Hooved animals were naturally sensitive to predators. Perhaps they knew his nature better than he did. If that was true, then— The door cracked open. Gareth turned in place, hand going for his dagger. A grey-coated mare with a puffy pink mane barged through. He immediately breathed a sigh of relief, relaxing his grip; it was just Butter Pie, a friend. Styre trotted over as well, grinning as he audibly nuzzled his lady-friend. They spoke for a bit, rapidly descending into Equestrian that was both too fast and too advanced for him to understand. Something about ‘cleansing’, ‘hired help’ and ‘courtyard’. He tried his best to follow along but quickly found himself lost. Gareth chuckled; at least their voices were pleasant to listen to. Gareth stared back into the fire, letting the heat wash over him. Something warm sat beside him. Butter Pie looked up with a half-lidded smile on her face. A forehoof reached out to his chest, gently tracing the contours of the fine stitch and colours. For a race without hands… he'd never seen any stitch finer. "It fits you," Butter Pie said slowly. A forehoof carelessly nudged the dagger on his waist. Biting his lip, Gareth looked down at his belt. The brown leather holster clashed with the entire garment. He slowly drew his dagger, holding the blade in his fingers. She glanced down at it, still smiling. Gareth could feel Styre's burning glare on the back of his neck. 'This… this has caused more problems than it's solved,' he tried to say. Butter Pie shook her head, giggling slowly. A forehoof nudged Gareth's head, "Problem." That hoof then poked him in the chest. "Solution." Butter Pie stood, her kind expression never once faltering. She went over to Styre, his heated gaze cooling by the moment. She whispered something into his ear, sharing a quick nuzzle. Styre nodded once, whispering something back as she left out the door. Gareth brought his hand up to his chest. His heart thudded softly underneath. Maybe… maybe she was right. Maybe he was overthinking it. With a muted click, the dagger returned to its sheath. 'Gleaming?' Gareth said, turning back to her. 'Is... it okay if I rest here for a bit?' Gleaming gave him a soft smile, nodding slowly. That was all Gareth needed. He balled up his jacket, lay down and tucked it under his head. The fire crackled merrily out the corner of his eyes. He rested his eyes for a moment, breathing in deeply. Styre reclined on Gleaming Horizon's plush bed, gazing out a nearby window. The panes were well-polished and buffed, giving a perfect mirror view to the outside. Moonlight illuminated the trees. Heck, he could even see Gareth’s little archery range from here. Wait, he could have sworn he saw something moving amidst the roots out there… Ah, a rat. Butter Pie’s little co-workers were being less than conspicuous. They knew that they weren’t supposed to stay on castle grounds. Officially, Guards were supposed to shoo them out. Of course, officially, Styre was also off-duty. "C-Celestia," Noble Era's voice came from Gareth's sleeping form. The fire was beginning to burn low, now barely illuminating the human. Gareth clutched the heavy sheet over his shoulder in his sleep, curling up into a ball. Styre found himself marvelling at the fact that something so tall was able to become so small. There was a rattle at the door. Styre stood amidst the cushions, glaring. It creaked open, and the shadow of a hood pushed through. Gleaming Horizon's white snout poked out from underneath it. Styre sighed in relief. Gleaming silently squeezed through the door, doing her best not to make any noise. She pulled her hood back, her ears poking up. Something was wrong. Even in the dim light, it was easy to see that her eyes were puffy and red. She shook like a leaf, leaning up against door as it creaked closed. The bed rasped as Styre crawled off it. "Gleaming, what's wrong?" Styre asked, looking her over for injuries. Gleaming Horizon stifled a gasp as her eyes wildly flicked over him. After a few moments, her chest finally stopped heaving. She bit her lip, unable to look him in the eye. "P-Princess Celestia, she's cry—" Gleaming's eyes widened. She shook her head, clearing her throat. "She's… thinking deeply in her room. She wouldn't answer me." "I see," Styre said, glancing to Gareth. The conversation had not awoken him yet. "Then we're on our own with him. Alright, look; it's nearly dawn, and I'm not exaggerating when I say that he eats like a pack of hungry colts. I'm going to go down to kitchens to get him some breakfast. Gar-eth looks like he could use some cheering up." "Gar-eth," Gleaming whispered, following Styre's gaze. "I— I know it sounds a little strange, but why do you call him that? Doesn't he go by Grey Spear now?" Styre smiled ruefully, "We don't speak each other's language, but trust me; we understand each other. I've been around him longer than most. He… he reminds me a lot of my brother. Aloof, stubborn and self-defeating… but he knows that, and he's trying to change. Still, there's a limit to how much you can change yourself. To me, I don't think he'll ever be comfortable being a pony, that's why he'll always be Gar-eth to me." Gareth let out a tired groan, blearily looking up at them. "What's going on?" Noble Era's voice came from his mouth. "Oh...um," Gleaming twitched, glancing at the door behind her, "Styre was going to get food. Do you understand, Grey--" Gleaming glanced at Styre, "Uh… do you understand, Gar-eth?" Gareth's head bobbed tiredly before turning back and returning his head to his jacket. Styre smiled. Well, time to get those bagels. He turned towards the door and reached out for the— The handle was already twisting. Styre frowned, stepping back as the door creaked back open. In the doorway stood a Uni-guard in full regalia. Styre knew it well; elaborate golden barding with a white crest and tail, topped off by a grey glamour on the coat. He glared into Uni-guard's amber eyes, trying to place the facial structure. The Uni-guard looked confused for a moment, glancing over Styre's shoulders. Unable to notice anything else, he finally settled on glaring at Styre. "Earth-guard Styre, what are you doing here?" the Uni-guard asked. Styre recognised the voice. "Flash Bang," Styre ground out. He felt the fur on the back of his neck stick up. A gnawing feeling in his gut set in; something was not right here. "I could ask you the same thing." "Flash Bang?" Gleaming Horizon asked. She walked over to the doorway, glancing between them with a genuinely curious expression. Suddenly, Flash Bang's expression shifted from a condescending glare to a joyful smile. "Gleaming Horizon, you're required to come with us," he said in a polite but firm tone. "Princess Celestia has requested your presence immediately." "Oh! I see Flash Bang, I'll jus—" Gleaming glanced back at Gareth. Her face fell, ears drooping. "Oh… I'm sorry, I can't go right now. Please tell the Princess that I'm tending to a VIP. She'll understand." The smile vanished from Flash Bang's face; he took a sudden step forward. "I'm afraid that she won't, you need to come with me right—" CRACK Hoof on wood resounded through the room as Styre slammed his forehoof into the wooden doorway. He stared down Flash Bang with violence in his eyes. "Surely for such an important mission you'd have the proper paperwork, right?" Styre ground out. Something was about to go wrong; his instincts were screaming at him. He held his other forehoof out, gesturing for a scroll. "So, how about those papers?" Flash Bang's glamoured eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. Styre waited for him to strike first. Then, just as quickly, Flash Bang relented, looking more disappointed than frustrated. "I was hoping I wouldn't need to resort to this, but this is urgent, Styre," he said, taking a step to the side. That was when the other Uni-guard from down the hall stepped into view, his horn crackling with silver energy. Styre tried to drop, but it was too late. A ball of lightning smashed into Styre's chest, sweeping him off his hooves. He slammed into the stone wall behind him, sliding down and collapsing to the floor in a heap. A metallic taste filled his mouth as he struggled to get back up. The smell of burning reached his nose while the crippling stun spell coursed through his twitching body. He saw Flash Bang step through the doorway, four other ponies stepped through, all dressed in E.U.P uniforms. Two unicorns, two earth ponies. He could hear Gleaming Horizon's horrified scream. Yet Styre could barely get himself to stop spasming let alone get back up. "You brought this upon yourself—" Flash Bang did not get to finish, cut off by a rustle of cloth and a warcry. He turned to the left, only to have a dark blue jacket slap onto his face. Flash Bang shrieked, pawing at the jacket with his forehooves. A rip of cloth followed as his horn tore a hole in the middle, further holding it in place. Sparks of blue energy flew about, starting spot fires on the once immaculate design. One of the Uni-guards lowered his horn and charged Gareth, silver magic sparkling along it. The human saw it coming. Gareth shifted to a nearby bookcase, grabbing one side and wrenching it down onto the pony. Cracking wood joined rustling pages as the Uni-guard’s horn penetrated into one of the shelves, pinning him in place… right underneath it. He creaked and twisted wildly, struggling in vain. Gleaming Horizon's screams grew louder, her hooves clattering across the floor as she tried to escape the melee. Styre's legs finally began to listen as he struggled to his hooves. He looked up just in time to watch as Flash Bang's now furiously swishing horn light up; a familiar blue lightning arched up and down. The Uni-guard looked ready to let out a burst somewhere in Gareth's direction. A crimson light began to glow around the jacket's sleeves, they pulled underneath Flash Bang's jaw, drawing into a bow. With a yank, it dragged his face to the ground. Gleaming grit her teeth, her horn glowing an identical colour as she tried her best to keep control. Another Uni-Guard's horn lit up green, leveling it at Gleaming. Styre willed his shaking body into a charge. Only to have the two Earth-guards tackle him mid-leap. They slammed their forehooves into his body at full force, blossoms of pain followed by waves of nausea. Styre could barely keep standing let alone fight them off. There was a clatter and a creak as Gareth grabbed a nearby broomstick and stepped up onto the fallen bookcase. He lept into the air, roaring with the stick held high. The broomstick splintered on impact as he slammed it over the Uni-guard's head. The force alone drove the now-stunned guard to the floor. The first Earth-guard assaulting him looked up at Gareth. Styre punched her in the face. She tumbled back, falling into the still-struggling Flash Bang. Seizing her chance, Gleaming telekinetically grabbed her blanket from the floor and engulfed the mare in it. After bouncing her off a few of the walls, the Earth-guard within stopped struggling. Suddenly outnumbered, the second Earth-guard's ears dropped, backpedalling to the door. Too late. Gareth strode ahead of him, slamming the heavy wooden door down on him. Once, twice, three times and the stallion crumbled to the floor in a groaning heap. With a cry of victory, Flash Bang ripped the jacket off his face… only to have a hoof replace it. Rushing forward, Styre tackled Flash Bang to the ground, grabbing his neck into a headlock. Within moments, and several meaty thwacks, Flash Bang was very, very unconscious. The sound of belabored breathing filled the room as all three warily looked about. Gleaming Horizon murmured mindlessly, pressing up against a wall. The Earth-guard filled bag followed her as she slid down; staring forward amidst the wreckage that once was her room. "Traitors," Gareth growled. He booted Flash Bang in the gut, eliciting a pained groan from the Uni-guard. Styre shrugged, still huffing. Maybe they were, or maybe this was all just a big miscommunication. In either case, they were their problem for now. He rubbed his still stinging eyes. Bloody stun spells. A dark expression crossed Gareth's face. He walked over to Flash Bang's side and pulled his dagger. Going down on one knee, he grabbed the pony by the scruff of his mane. The tip of his blade positioned itself just over the base of Flash Bang's horn… "Gar-eth, NO!" Styre yelled, running in front of him. Gareth gave him an incredulous look, "Why not? They just tried to kill us! How else can I disarm him?" "No they weren't, that was a stunning spell!" Styre knew that Gareth didn't understand his words, but his gestures got the point across. "THAT is NOT how we do things here. Now, put that thing away!" Gareth glowered at Styre. Styre glared straight back. After a few moments, Gareth growled, throwing Flash Bang back to the floor. He stood, loudly hocking up a wad of spit on the Uni-guard's face. The dagger went back into its sheath. Gareth heaved 'Flash Bang' into the corner of the room, stacking him atop his comrades. Over the course of five minutes, only one of them struggled. The one from underneath the bookshelf still had some fight in him. A swift punch to the face put him under. Waving his stinging hand about. These ponies could take an impressive amount of punishment. Given their size, he should have broken a bone or at least blooded an eye. The trick, it seemed, was that they went under quite quickly if one struck them about the head. Styre consoled Gleaming behind his back, but he couldn't even try to comprehend them right now. His blood was pumping and the rush of combat had been just the thing to bring him back to wakefulness. Yet, wakefulness only came with more questions. These were clearly Equestrian guards that had attacked them. Equestrian politics were something that eluded him, it was clear that something was deeply wrong here. Distant thunder erupted all over the castle. Gareth clenched his teeth; the unicorn's sorceries made the same noise. The sound of iron shots reverberated in his head. The walls would not protect him. Gareth placed a hand over his chest, willing his heart to slow. No, not now. He wasn't a coward. Cecilia needed him. Just breathe; breathe as she told him to. Wait… the guards turning on their own. They assaulted a lady-in-waiting, the prince-consort and a man-at-arms. Ah… of course. Gareth knew what this was, he understood this. For the first time in a long time, he understood. 'Betrayal… I have experience in this,' he forced himself to say, turning to Styre and Gleaming Horizon. They looked equally confused. 'Styre, we need to get going. The castle is turning against itself and we need to separate the loyal from the disloyal. We have to gather the leaders of Equestria together.' Styre cocked a brow. 'Trust me, Styre. We need to go while we still can.' To that, Styre shrugged his shoulders, waving a foreleg around in sarcastic confusion. Gareth stroked his chin, 'This is having limitations. I need a better translator.' What about Cecilia? She would be the most likely target— His lips still burned. The taste, the texture. —she… no, she would be fine without him. She had to be. 'Noble Era has the other side of my Ambassador's pill and he's also part of the leadership. That's where we're going next.' Styre pointed to Gleaming Horizon, giving him a questioning look. She didn't look too good. 'Yes… you're right, it's dangerous. What's more, I don't know if he's a threat or not. Gleaming, can you make your way to Cecilia?' Styre snorted angrily, giving him an incredulous glare. "It-it's okay, Styre," Gleaming said, patting the stallion on the shoulder. She looked to him with a brittle nod. "I will go to Cecilia. You will be safe. Do you understand?" Gleaming tried her best to put on a brave face, but it was clear she was scared. Letting her go alone was a mistake, but so was bringing her into danger. What choice did they have? Someone had to inform Cecilia about what just happened. 'Yes, I do,' Gareth walked over to the door, pulling it open. 'C'mon Styre, we've work to do.' Chaose engulfed the castle. Guard fought Guard in Canterlot's halls while Gareth and Styre did their best to work their way past. By now, Gareth's stolen broom had long since been reduced to splinters. He now hefted about a solid, golden, two-metre long candleholder. The head had been bent over a belligerent Pega-guard's neck. The weapon matched the wielder, unfortunately. Blood trailed down from Gareth's temple from a Pega-guard's flying hoof. They had been running for what seemed like hours. Styre's insistent body language assured him that they were getting close. More thunder echoed from down the hall. This time it was close. Styre picked up his pace, pulling ahead. The faint smell of gunpowder wafted on the air, either real or imagined. Gareth wanted nothing more than to simply turn and run in the opposite direction. Then the thunder stopped. Even the distant cries of battle were drowned out by hoofsteps and hurried breathing. Suddenly Styre skidded to a halt, hind legs kicking up against carpet. A heavy iron door had been burst inwards. A huge dent, around pony-bucking height, had almost bent it in half. He thought it was metal fatigue at first, but no, in the middle of the dent was a mural, depicting twelve unicorns arrayed in a circle around the sun. 'Noble Era's room?' Gareth asked. Styre grunted in an affirmative, glaring inside. The room reminded him of Father Clemens’ study… or a tinker's shop. Well, at least it would, had it not been completely trashed. Bookshelves, once overflowing with scrolls, books and all manner of strange contraptions, now had their contents upturned and tossed. Glass cabinets, still filled with strange, glowing curios, masks, weapons and other miscellanea, were shattered from battle damage, not theft. What was likely a well-ordered desk was now buried in scattered papers. The only calm in this storm was a humble bed, resting in the corner, undamaged by the melee. 'Damn it, too late,' Gareth cursed, stepping inside. He threw out his hand. 'Take a minute to look around. Let's make sure that he's not here. Then we're heading to Colonel Purple Dart.' Styre nodded. He planted his nose to the charred carpet and started sniffing. A row of lights flashed out the corner of Gareth's eye. He stepped to one side, thrusting the broken candleholder forward. The lights didn't move. Instead, they only shed a gentle light upon their resting places; a series of white keys. Wait, he recognised this; this was like the pipe organ in Rockingham's church! Well… excepting that it was far smaller and only had two keyboards. Instead of a hymnbook, there were pages upon pages of mathematical equations resting in the stand atop it. It was heavily annotated, and looked rather hastily drawn. Perhaps Noble Era was not a master at his craft. Before he even realised what he was doing, Gareth struck a key. "Hello," a voice said. Gareth jumped, stepping back. That was in English. Who said that? Wait... was that the Organ? He struck the same key again, "Hello." That was the organ. He struck more. "Hello." "Pony." "Therefore." "I bring you friendship." 'What the hell,' Gareth muttered. "Gar-eth!" Styre said, pointing over to study table. Gareth nodded, walking over. Notes and hastily scribbled sketches littered the surface. He recognised a few of the drawings. One of them depicted Gareth's armour, annotated with lines pointing to towards gaps and other weaknesses. There were a lot of lines. Another sketch was of his rough-made longbow. Alongside it, seemingly for comparison, was a squat recurve bow; a Saracen’s bow. Styre grunted loudly. He tugged at Gareth's sleeve and pointed up a solitary unbroken glass case. Held inside was the same bow from the drawing. Unstrung, the curved edges naturally pulled forward in a 'c'. The bow's string hung off a nail hammered into the case, seemingly ready to be used at any time. Beside it, was a set of five arrows. Each of them glowed with a gentle white light. Gareth walked over, glancing to either side of the case. No obvious latch. He smiled at Styre, who smirked right back. Gareth hefted his candleholder and swung it. The glass shattered, shards sprinkling off his boots. A metal thud joined it as Gareth tossed the candleholder aside. The bowstave was light; he wasted no time in stringing it. Stubborn but supple limbs marked it as good quality. There was a set of engravings at the front: two diamonds facing away from each other. He guessed that’s where he was meant to nock an arrow. Going further, he saw that surrounding them both was a set of dog's teeth. Sorcerous arrows… how well did they fly? Gareth grabbed one and feed it through. He pulled back, testing the draw strength. Unfortunately, it barely burnt his back muscles, even at full draw. Not as strong as he liked it, but it would suffice. Styre let out a frustrated growl, pointing insistently at the door. Gareth pulled the arrow out, 'You're right, this is getting us nowhere. Come on, let's—' A pinprick of light appeared in front of both Styre and Gareth's faces. The sound of scattering papers filled the air as the light unravelled into a parchment. An image of a map glowed through the parchment, a pulsing golden light shining near the middle. After a few moments, Gareth recognised it; it was a map of Equestria, specifically, of Canterlot. Then it spoke to him in Noble Era's voice. Gareth only understood part of it, something to do with 'help'. The message continued, this time in in a growling, dog-like language. Then a shrieking, chittering, almost bird-like tongue. Then it came in a language he recognised, "I am in danger. Please, help me." English. Just like the organ. The glowing spot began to crawl through the streets of Canterlot, away from the castle and towards the main gates. Gareth recognised the direction, Noble Era was going out the same way he had first entered Canterlot. Gareth grabbed his scroll, looking over the map. Styre looked up at him, nodding firmly. 'Let's go,' Gareth snapped it closed. Stone walls and candle-lit halls turned into cobblestone roads and moonlit streets. The dot was moving far, far faster than it should have been. At first, he wondered why, stopping every so often only to see it erratically shoot off down a long, narrow street. They had their answer soon; Noble Era was either strapped to, or escaping in, a cart. The distinction was semantics to Gareth. Innocent or guilty, Noble Era wasn't leaving Canterlot. That was what his mind pounded into him even as the burning in his lungs began to spread throughout his body. A wooden cart, surrounded by five galloping pony guards, blazed out in front of him. Gareth and Styre cursed as it clattered down the main street. So much for cutting them off. The two of them rounded the corner only to see the cart heading straight for the gates. Styre bolted down the street. He screamed something in Equestrian at the guards atop the battlements. They looked down at the rapidly approaching cart, saluted quickly, and vanished back into the guardhouse. Within a few seconds, the gates started screaming down. The cart wasn't stopping. One of the Earth-guards lost his nerve, veering off to the side and into a back alley. The rest held strong, picking up speed. Even as iron shrieked against iron, the lead pony only dashed faster, peeling through. The metal teeth stabbed down into the ground, missing the cart by scant feet. Gareth grit his teeth. He and Styre rushed up the stairwell leading to the guardhouse. They stopped themselves just at the side of the walls, watching the cart and the false-guards escape away into the night. It wasn't all that far to the ground from here. Perhaps if he jumped just right… Gareth fed the arrows into his belt and lept off the side. The frosty soil rushed up to meet him. His knees buckled, grunting as struggled back up, stumbling out of the garden and over to the edge of the wooden drawbridge. He plucked an arrow from his belt and nocked it. Arching high in the moon-light sky, he tried to recall long-since buried instincts. An image of a mounted knight formed in his mind's eye. They were already over 100 yards away, and every second added a dozen yards to that count. Even his longbow couldn't reach beyond 400… Cree-ek. "Sagittæ tuæ acutæ, populi sub te cadent, in corda inimicorum regis," he muttered under his breath. Thwip! He fired. The arrow flew high into the sky, and then dipped down. It fell short, a cloud of dust kicking up as it exploding into the ground behind them. That detonation though… Cree-ek. He nocked another; 225 yards away. "Sol et luna steterunt in habitaculo suo : in luce sagittarum tuarum ibunt, in splendore fulgurantis hastæ tuæ." The sweat and saliva mixed in his mouth. Thwip! He fired again. It flew through the sky, trailing white light in an arc. Too far, it slammed into the side of a tree, tearing a gouge out if it. The tree let out a distant groan, collapsing under its own weight. The cart sped on ahead. 345 yards. Gareth's hands trembled. This was it, if he couldn't make this next shot… he tried to think of a verse, any verse, that could help him focus. He found none. Cree-ek. "Please God… help me." His fingers burned. Thwip! The arrow streaked up and into the night sky. One second, two seconds, three seconds, four… it finally began to fall, flying through the sky like a shooting star. Gareth held his breath. It was close; the arrow was right on course. They were headed right for it. The arrow slammed into the ground ahead of the cart. They vanished into the cloud of dust. A second later the cart pulled through, dust clinging to their wake. They didn't even slow down. Gareth felt the breath vanish from his lungs. He failed. Boom. Another blast of thunder. A distant light burned above Canterlot's skies, just on the edges of his vision. Orange, gold and white, it painted itself across the heavens in flight. Suddenly, it turned at a right angle, heading straight towards the cart. Was that…? His legs moved before he could complete the thought. He grabbed the remaining arrows from his belt, putting one between his teeth and feeding in the other. Heavy leather boots kicked up soil and gravel as he rushed forward. The golden light shone like a beacon, illuminating the area like a bonfire. Distant cries of fear and battle were snuffed out almost instantly. Soon, only the tell-tale jingle of magic could be heard. It could not be true. After a lifetime of prayer, had He finally answered? Gareth flattened up against a nearby tree, glancing out the side for but a moment. The light was bright, far too bright. He had heard the stories. Men turned to ash for staring upon the Most High's true form. He would do well to avoid their fates. With his eyes pinned to the ground and screwed tightly shut, Gareth stepped out the side, his bow and arrows held up in either hand. Even closed and averted it was as if he was gazing into the sun. The heavenly host let out an almost feminine gasp 'Holy, holy, holy is the Lord, God Almighty. Your most unworthy servant gives praise to the Lord!' Gareth tried to say in the pony's tongue. He fell to his knees, prostrating himself. This was what Clemens always did whenever a relic of God passed before him. Hopefully he was displaying the right level of respect. Seconds passed. Seconds turned into dozens, which came close to a minute. A cold pit formed in Gareth's stomach. Did he do something wrong? Someone cleared their throat. Was that one of the guards? Gareth swore that he would beat them back into unconsciousness for this insol— "Uh, Gareth…" he recognised the voice. Wait a minute. Golden light, flying, extreme power… all coming from Canterlot. '…Oh, fucking hell.' Gareth opened his eyes. Celestia stood beside the cart, surrounded by a half-dozen unconscious guards. The cart's wheels had been popped off as if it was a toy. She nervously looked down at him, chewing the corner of her lip. He knew that look, she was a moment away from bursting out laughing. They stared at each other for a few moments. Gareth sighed, groaning as he buried his face in a palm. He grit his teeth, half out of embarrassment and half to avoid grinning like a relieved simpleton. 'So… how was your night?' he decided, stepping over to the side of the cart. "I've… had worse," Celestia replied, bobbing her head. Her horn lit up, tugging away the latches on the tarp. "You?" '…I've had worse,' Gareth agreed, pulling off the tarp. Underneath, a beaten, bruised and bound Noble Era lay unconscious.