//------------------------------// // The Nature of the Beast // Story: Reddux the Tyrant // by PaulAsaran //------------------------------// Reddux the Tyrant Chapter XIII The Nature of the Beast Fancy walked the ramparts of Guardia del Este, his head low and his mind wandering. He’d doffed his uniform, as had most of the ponies at the fort. The heat rose in waves from the stones and sweat dripped from every soldier and guard, but it was preferable to stay outside. The heat indoors had grown so intense that some guards had collapsed of heatstroke, prompting the base commander to order all ponies outdoors. Yet he still had his cool inner sanctum, in which no ponies were permitted save upon a summons. Fancy glared at the keep, but kept his curses to himself. He looked to the castle courtyard. Some ponies were drilling, their shouts rising into the still summer air. There were no pegasi, for the majority had flown to the north in search of clouds. Fancy’s eye roamed the horizon, the sky as clear and cloudless as any he’d ever known. All of Equestria would be in need of cloud cover; surely production was falling far behind the need. As he came to the eastern walls, he looked out over the desert. There had been no word from the army sent to Fuegos en las Rocas, not even a pegasus messenger. Perhaps it had not been so long as it felt, but the sight of an empty horizon left an empty feeling in Fancy’s stomach. “Hey there, First Lieutenant.” Fancy paused, giving himself a moment to pull out of his thoughts. He found himself standing beside a familiar pink unicorn, who eyed him wearily. “Oh, hello, Private Sundae. My apologies, I was lost in thought.” She chewed her lip and glanced to the east. “Thinking about the rest of the army?” “Thinking about a great many things,” he admitted with a sigh. He glanced around with a small frown. “Does Colonel Mander still have you standing guard up here?” She chuckled and brushed the sweat from her blonde fringe. “I’m not still being punished, if that’s what you’re asking. This is just where I’ve been assigned when on duty.” “Oh, good.” He sighed and sat where he could see through the crenelations. “I never got to apologize for getting you in trouble, so—” “It’s not your fault I got curious,” she said, sitting at the next gap. “I probably should have minded my own business.” He sighed and shook his head. “I’m glad you didn’t; you diffused the tension. Still—” he turned his eyes to the south, “—I wish Fleur hadn’t chosen to go with that stallion.” Frosty looked to him with a small frown. “You’re worried about her.” “Of course I am.” He stomped and grimaced at the southern horizon. “I can’t help thinking that she should be my responsibility. I feel as though I failed her.” “I doubt she thinks that, Fancy.” Fancy turned his head east once more, his heart heavy. “Oh, I think she does. She might have stayed here if she didn’t.” “And what advantage would that give her?” Private Sundae asked. “We all know a dragon’s going to attack this fort eventually. Do you really think she’d be any safer here?” He snorted, dust and sand billowing up from the stones before him. “But at least I could have kept an eye on her.” Frosty studied him, then gained a sad smile. “I wish my brother was more like you.” His ears perked at this strange change in direction. “Your brother?” “Yep.” She sighed and looked out to the horizon once again. “The tradition in my family is that the stallions join the army, the mares stay at home. A bit odd, but nopony ever complained. Until my brother, that is; he stole a bunch of our parents’ money and ran away.” Fancy considered her with a frown. “That doesn’t explain why you’re here.” “I had to join.” She shrugged and leaned over the wall. “Dad was so disappointed in his son, I figured I should do what I could to ease that. He didn’t like me defying family tradition by signing up, but… he understands. Mom too.” “Hmm…” Fancy followed her lead and leaned against the hot stones. “So if your brother was doing his ‘family duty’ and standing where you are now, what would you be doing?” “Making ice cream.” Frosty looked up at the immobile sun. “I wish I had the stuff to do that now.” Fancy gave a weak chuckle and brushed the sweat from his brow. “You and me both.” Silence filled the air as they stared out into the bleak, red desert. Every now and then a small breeze would kick up, but it was always hot and carried biting sand. The world remained unpleasantly quiet, like the calm before a raging storm. Sometimes Fancy wondered if the allusion wasn’t accurate. “Fancy?” “Yeah?” Frosty shifted, her chin resting on the stones. “This strategy you and the others came up with, the secret one. Do you really think it’ll give us a chance?” He glanced her way, but couldn’t see her face. Seconds passed as he thought on the question, but the truth left a cold feeling in his stomach. Swallowing to wet his throat, he replied, “I think so.” She raised her head to study him with a single eye. “Don’t ever try to play poker, Fancy.” They shared a weak chuckle and returned to their quiet vigil. The sun beat on their backs, the sand bit into their coats, the silence bored into their ears. Fancy felt heavy, as if the wall were on his back instead of the other way around. He wanted to sleep, but there was always that nagging worry that the moment he did, the dragons would come. It was irresponsible of him, he knew. If only the sun would go down. Maybe that would give him the ease he needed. His thoughts turned to Celestia, as they always inevitably did. “Fancy.” He grumbled and realized he’d been nodding off. He raised his head and shook it. “What?” “Look.” He glanced groggily towards Frosty, but she was peering into the horizon. He followed suit and carefully studied the line where blue sky met red earth. Slowly, he surveyed the east until, at last, he saw something: a single dark dot. Fancy tensed. “Any idea what it is?” She nodded. “I think it’s a pony.” “The army.” He chewed his dry lips and tried to focus his eyes a little better. “A messenger, perhaps?” “I don’t know.” Fancy reared up and set his forehooves on the wall before him, leaning out to study the dot. As he did, he thought he could make out a shape. It shifted, but he couldn’t tell what he was seeing. Frosty made a weak sound. “He just collapsed.” They shared wide-eyed looks. Fancy gestured to the courtyard. “Go, find the colonel.” The Burning Lands stretched out beneath Reddux, all hard stone and belching lava. Volcanic mountains rose like giants, their calderas ever-steaming. Here there were no plants, no animals, no structures. This was a land too brutal for anything feebler than the mightiest of beasts, beautiful in its desolation. Reddux would see it spread across the known world and beyond. But first, he had to deal with the enemies of progress. Some caves were hidden, others blatantly obvious. They were spread out, it being incredibly rare for two caves to be located on adjacent mountains. Most were natural, holes carved out by the lava in ancient times. Every now and then he would catch sight of a dragon peering out of the darkness to investigate the passing stranger. None dared to approach him. Less common than the natural caves were those carved by dragon claws. Such caverns were only held by those of particular influence and power. That old fool Parjin had one for over four millennia; Reddux looked forward to the day he would install one of his own in that hole. He’d seriously considered giving it to Tialvis; as the ‘mother’ of his future army, she would warrant a truly grand hoard. Yet in this area there stood only one artificial hoard, and he made straight for it. The cave had been cut into a square shape and lined with great, glimmering gems. No drake ever failed to recognize the hoard of the First Fang. It sat at the very bottom of the tallest volcano, surrounded by a pool of lava. As Reddux circled for a landing, he noticed a tail disappear within the darkness. He grinned; so the hatchling hid within her great cave. Though it may take him time to locate Sorahna, safety would elude her. He would find her and deliver his terms, and she would agree to them… or share her parents’ fate. He eased into a landing within the circle of magmatic pools, his eyes on the ca— The attack came in a flash of purple scales; Reddux, unbalanced from his landing, fell back with a roar as another dragon smashed into him. The two collapsed into the lava, the sounds of the fight muffled by the thick, hot liquid. The smaller dragon raked his claws against Reddux’s back, but his small talons had no chance of piercing those mighty scales with just one try. Reddux sneered and reached his arm around his opponent, latching on to a lone wing. He pulled, forcing the dragon to turn sideways, and then grabbed a shoulder. Though he couldn’t see his opponent in the churning red lava, he easily held him in place despite the thrashing. After a few seconds his legs found the bottom of the pool and he gave a powerful push. The dragons erupted from the pool, Reddux roaring as he tossed his attacker away like a mere hatchling. He landed on the hard ground with enough force to shake the earth and released a deafening bellow, but the purple dragon stood and faced him without hesitation. Reddux took a couple steps, his chest expanding as he bared his fangs. “Who are you to stand in my way, little drake?” His opponent snorted smoke. “I have no words for a snake who lacks honor.” Reddux chuckled. “What did she promise you? Did she entice you with her young body, or perhaps offered you some of her parents’ hoard? It is mine now.” The smaller dragon held his ground, his body low and ready to pounce. “It is the Hoard of Sorahna now! She will be the First Fang.” “Will she?” Reddux towered over him, his lips curling in a smile. “And what are you? Her doting guardian?” He peered into the youth’s determined eyes. “I will have to kill you then. Let us see how long you last on your own.” “He’s not alone.” Reddux hissed and turned, only to find himself surrounded; at least a dozen dragons were now perched around him, all watching the scene with malicious intent. Slowly, Reddux turned his eyes about to see each and every dragon. He recognized a few, but the one he expected was nowhere to be found. “What?” He grinned and spread his arms wide. “No Parjin? Did he not arrange this meeting?” “I am giving the orders now.” Reddux turned in time to see a slender silver head emerge from the shadows of the cave. Sorahna’s youth was apparent, given away by her diminutive size and the way her backside spikes had yet to form sharp edges. She could be no more than eight hundred years of age. Even so, she held a regal bearing as she stood in the light of the sun and spread her wings. “So, the hatchling looks to be a leader.” Reddux leered and walked to the center of the circle, stopping just at the edge of the magmatic moat. “I dare say you look every bit like your mother. I wonder if your face will hold the same expression as hers did when my fangs find your throat.” Sorahna’s eye twitched, but it was the only sign of emotion she would offer him. “Reddux, you fancy yourself a tyrant. There is no room for tyrants in the Burning Lands.” He stretched his neck over the lava and bared his fangs. “And you intend to… what? Throw me out?” She appeared unmoved by his threatening display. “You killed my parents in cold blood and attempted to have me assassinated, like a coward. No, Reddux, I will deliver upon you the wrath of my father.” “Your father was weak,” he hissed. “Do you prefer that we should bow to the whims of creatures beneath us? I would make the dragons mighty again, and I would suggest you join me in that endeavor.” She shook her head, her eyes never leaving his. “You are a monster, and you shall be put down as all monsters must be.” Reddux’s legs tensed, his wings flexed. “Do not think me easy prey. I am impressed you defeated Vermithrax, but I will not be put down.” “Look around you!” She spread her claws wide. “You may be the greatest of our race, but you are not invincible. Even you are not so foolish as to think you can win here.” He slowly looked at the dragons surrounding them, examined each for strength and form. It was indeed a challenging situation she’d set up for him… but he’d been prepared for it. He grinned and shot a one-eyed look Sorahna’s way. “And if I kill you before they have a chance to strike?” “You will still die.” Now it was Sorahna who smiled. “Killing me will no more make you the First Fang than killing my parents did.” “Maybe not.” He dropped low, preparing himself for the attack. “Yet I will escape this fight alive, pretty little hatchling, whereas you shall not. I will make Equestria into a new Burning Lands, a hoard for my allies and I to share. We will grow strong, and as we pick off the leaders of the opposition one at a time, we will rule. We have thousands of years to sway the hoards.” Sorahna’s smile faded to a somber stare. “So, you would wage a war of eons?” His lips curled back in a smile. “I am prepared for the long conflict. Are you?” She was silent for some time, gazing upon him as if he were some strange creature she didn’t recognize. “The ponies will not fall to you, Reddux. The Voice made them so they would survive any situation.” “Then let them survive slavery. But first… let’s see you survive me!” He lunged, his jaws open wide and aimed for her throat, yet Sorahna nimbly dodged and his fangs clamped on open air. She did not escape his talons, however; he caught her shoulder and raked a claw down her chest, tearing into her scales. Though her blood had been spilt, Sorahna wasted no time countering. Her fangs closed over his shoulder, but her young teeth were like tiny needles trying to pierce steel. Though she was no threat, Reddux already knew he had failed. He could hear the roars of the other dragons and knew he’d never get a second strike before they were upon him. Though the indignity seared his mind, he turned his tactics towards escape: he clutched her tightly and let himself drop, dragging her into the magma pool. Sorahna squirmed within his hold, clawing and thrashing at his body without effect. Reddux made no attempt to fight back, instead holding her tightly and working to keep her above him. Within seconds the dull splashing of the other dragons reached his ears, at which point he pushed Sorahna away. Her claws sliced at him a few more times, then she disappeared entirely, pulled to safety by her loyalists. Reddux turned and crawled along the bottom of the pool. He moved slowly, silently, listening to the violent thrashings of the lava. It wasn’t until his snout bumped the edge that he finally sensed an opening; using his powerful claws, he climbed up the wall as fast as his legs could carry him and burst out of the pool. His wings opened wide and he was off, flying north and to safety. He looked back to see the lava pool alive with dragons, nearly all of them beneath the surface and seeking him or Sorahna out. Yet there were three who noticed his departure and launched in pursuit, roaring their anger. That purple lizard he’d come close to dispatching was among them. Well, better late than never. Weaving through the bare mountains, Reddux planned his strategy. His opponents would have no difficulty keeping up, for if his size gave him any weakness it was speed. He made frequent turns to keep the mountains between him and his opponents. The rocks sailed past in a blur as he waited, knowing one of them would make the mistake. A shadow came over Reddux as one of the three appeared above him, having flown directly over the mountain. His reaction was quick, practiced and lethal; Reddux tucked his wings and rolled, his hind legs kicking in unison. Combined with the attacker’s momentum, the talons had no difficulty slicing right through the thick scales of the dragon’s blue belly. At the same time, Reddux raised his arms and caught the dragon’s face, his claws diving into the jowls and separating before the fangs could clamp down on them. Blood filled the sky as the dragon screeched, his jaw hanging loosely from torn muscles. Reddux twisted and flew straight down, slamming his victim into the ground at high speed. Bone snapped, but he didn’t wait to see if his opponent was dead. Instead he lifted off to escape the other two pursuers before they could catch up. He looked back to find the dragons rounding the mountain. They spotted their fallen comrade and bellowed, but didn’t break pursuit. Reddux didn’t need to flee anymore; two dragons half his size would be easy prey. He simply needed an appropriate location for the fight. This in mind, he continued north, making his way to a large volcano. He could hear from their roars that his pursuers were catching up, and he adjusted his speed appropriately. He went right up the side of the mountain. The rocks blurred just beneath his belly and his wings grazed the stones with every flap. There was a large boulder jutting out near the top of the slope, and he made directly for it. He glanced back to find the purple dragon practically on top of him. With a fanged grin, Reddux adjusted his flight to ensure his enemy wouldn’t be able to see the boulder. Closer, closer. The dragon’s teeth snapped at his tail. At the last instant, Reddux banked off and flared his wings. His foe darted by, eyes going wide at the sight of the boulder. He tried to rise and smashed chest-first into it, and they both tumbled into the caldera. Knowing he had little time, Reddux spun about to meet his remaining pursuer. The last of the three dragons was larger and older than the other two, and would put up a significant fight if Reddux didn’t end it soon. The yellow drake smashed into Reddux, his fangs going directly for the throat. Reddux caught him by the neck and had to work to keep those sharp teeth at bay. His opponent clawed at his shoulders, cutting long gouges through the scales; a few more hits would rip them out. With little time to spare, Reddux lowered his free claw and brought it up at an angle, his talons going deep into his foe’s armpit. He could feel the claws scrape muscle and sinew as he gripped and pulled. His enemy let out a bellow as his arm went limp, blood dripping from his wound. The dragon’s remaining claw and both legs sliced at Reddux, but he folded his wings and dropped out of the sky. Still holding the dragon’s neck in a vice-like grip, he used his superior heft to control their fall, smashing the dragon’s head against the solid rocks below. Dazed from the blow, the dragon was defenseless as Reddux’s fangs ripped into his exposed throat. Blood dripping from his lips, Reddux left the dying drake to his fate and approached the caldera. He was covered in terrible scratches, yet none of the attacks had succeeded in cutting through his scales, and so there was no pain. A purple claw reached over the edge of the caldera just as he arrived at the edge. He allowed the purple dragon to crawl halfway out before moving in to block his motion. The caldera was too small to let even the young dragon open his wings for flight, and his claws were focused on keeping him from falling; he was at Reddux’s mercy. Even so, he bared his fangs and let out a menacing hiss. Reddux grinned and rubbed blood from his lips. “So tell me now, little whelp, how it is that you intend to kill me.” “You will not win, Reddux,” his prey replied, meeting his leer with a glare. “Before this is over, you will die.” “Why?” Reddux leaned back and spread his arms wide. “What have I done to warrant such punishment? All I ask is that the ponies pay for their crimes.” “You killed the First fang and his mate!” “Because they would not enact justice upon the wicked.” Reddux pressed a lone claw beneath the dragon’s chin. “Those who will not protect our own kind are not worthy of leading.” “Don’t speak as though you are a wise wyrm!” The young dragon swiped at Reddux’s claw, but missed and had to scramble to keep from falling back into the caldera. “You care only about power. We doubt the ponies had anything to do with the crushed eggs. You are a liar!” Reddux smirked. “Oh, and you are so very loyal to the pretty little hatchling, aren’t you?” He caught the dragon’s face with both claws and looked him in the eyes. “What is it, drake? Do you hope to be by her side? Do you think she might fancy you? Do you long to make her your mate?” Purple claws flashed forward and grasped Reddux’s throat, forcing him to shift his weight to keep from falling. The dragon blew flames in his face. “I will kill you in her name, even if I must die to do so!” Reddux’s smile faded. “Are you prepared to die?” “For her? Yes.” For a few seconds, the two of them glared at one another in silence. Reddux considered those hard eyes, full of determination and anger. Then his smile returned. “Very good.” He fell forward, taking them both into the caldera. The younger dragon roared and clawed at Reddux’s throat, but his talons simply weren’t hard enough. It would take him dozens of tries to break through Reddux’s thick scales, and he simply didn’t have the time. They hit the bottom, the dragon smashed between Reddux and rock. They were surrounded by bubbling, boiling lava, and before his foe could recover from the hit Reddux lifted him and threw him onto his belly. Just as the drake was starting to stand, Reddux straddled and pushed him down. With both claws, he shoved the drake’s head into the lava. The dragon thrashed and clawed and struggled, but his strength was no match for the gargantuan weight on his back. Seconds passed, then a minute. The drake’s movements began to slow, then go limp. Reddux wasn’t fooled. A few more seconds. A few more. The drake began to thrash again. This time when he slowed down, Reddux knew it was the real thing. After a time, he pulled the dragons’ head from the lava. His victim coughed up some of the red liquid and grasped feebly at Reddux’s wrists. Reddux leaned down so his snout was by his victim’s head. “I thought you should know before you die: the ponies aren’t responsible for breaking the eggs. I broke them, and I laughed as I did, because the hoards will never know it.” The dragon spat more lava. “Y-you… you bas—” His head was pushed under again. Reddux heaved with his deep breaths, relishing the feeble struggle. After a short time, he raised the dragon’s head once more. “I’ve got friends, you know. Friends who have taken our eggs and left them in certain strategic locations. When they are found, the hoards will believe that the ponies really are responsible.” “N-no…” Another prolonged dunk. The dragon’s claws grew weak. Reddux pulled him out once more. “It may take a decade, or a century, or even a millennium, but the hoards will follow me. And your pretty little hatchling? She’ll come to believe I was telling the truth all along.” The young drake could only sputter and moan before his head was submerged yet again. This time his arms barely moved. Reddux raised his victim’s head and whispered into his ear. “She will be my mate, and you? You will be forgotten. The ponies will be our slaves, Equestria will burn, and your death? It will mean nothing. So tell me, little lovestruck drake, are you happy to die for her?” He listened intently, but his victim could only rasp and cough. He made a long, scratchy moan. “I thought not.” One last push. The dragon’s arms shifted limply, his body trembled, his wings spasmed. Reddux watched the scene with a grin, taking in every little motion. He relished victory, both this one and those to come. He breathed in sharp gasps as the excitement of the kill mounted. His victim no longer moved. Reddux held on for a couple extra minutes, just to be certain the job was done, then pushed the body into the lava. The excitement was gone, the rush a fleeting thing to be looked forward to later. The body slowly sank, and Reddux turned to make the climb out of the caldera. He would spare no more thoughts for dead weight. He needed to return to Crater Lake and finish the job. He still had two dragons on his side, and Sorahna would be spending too much time securing her position from competitors to spare any dragons to the protection of the ponies. Three dragons was more than enough to burn Equestria to cinders. Fancy was at the fort’s well, helping to distribute water to the few remaining healers at Guardia del Este. He kept glancing to the shaded portion of the castle, where rested about three dozen soldiers. Those not with fatal wounds were too injured to stand, and those not too injured to stand were dehydrated and worn out beyond effectiveness. His stomach roiled at the sight of their burns and missing limbs, the scent of burnt flesh keeping memories of Sueño close to the surface. Yet he soldiered on, doing what little he could to help these poor souls. Every now and then he’d look to the gates, hoping to see another survivor being brought inside, but always he was disappointed. Eight hundred soldiers had been sent to Fuegos en las Rocas; less than forty had returned, and it looked more and more as though there would be no more. Everywhere he went, he heard the whispers. “Just one, a black demon.” “It wiped out the whole battalion like they were wheat before a scythe.” “Nothing could pierce its scales.” “We don’t stand a chance.” “It’s coming here next.” “All the pegasi. It killed all the pegasi!” “Better to leave now while we still can.” “And go where? All of Equestria will burn.” Fancy couldn’t take anymore; he left the well and went to stand atop the walls once more, staring into the east. His heart was pounding, his stomach churned. He knew it was all probably true. It didn’t matter if they used Commander Dune’s strategy or the one they’d developed in secret; neither would stop the assault of a dragon, not with a little over three hundred ponies. So long as the dragons had no known weakness, they were doomed. This was exactly what bothered Fancy, for he knew the dragons had to have a weakness! Sir Deeds had killed a dragon, hadn’t he? Had he thought about it at the appropriate time, he might have asked the bastard how. Too late for that. Even so, he continued to ponder the situation, for he knew there must be some trick to bringing down a dragon. But what? “How you holdin’ up, First Lieutenant?” Fancy turned to find Colonel Mander approaching, his expression grim. “Colonel. I imagine I’m doing better than you are, all things considered.” The colonel turned and rested his forehooves on the wall between two crenelations. Curious, he was right where Frosty had been a few hours ago. He remained silent, and Fancy followed his example. They gazed at the horizon for a time, Fancy going over and over potential strategies and dismissing each one. “You know how many of us were at the Selene in Grypha, Fancy?” He glanced to the colonel, but the stallion wasn’t looking at him. “I know it wasn’t many.” “Less than a hundred.” Colonel Mander’s eyes were glazed, as though he were looking at something far beyond the horizon. “I was a Second Lieutenant, and our commanding officer was Lieutenant Colonel Fire Eyes. He was a bucking buffalo, if you’d believe that.” Fancy stared at him for a few seconds. “I’ve heard of stranger things.” That wasn’t true, but he needed to say something. Colonel Mander gave a weak chuckle. “He was a good guy. Honorable to a fault. He swore to the local gryphon lord that we’d secure the crossing against the rebel reinforcements and hold it until the main gryphon army arrived. We weren’t even supposed to fight. For hundreds of years, a token Equestrian force has been stationed in Grypha. Do you even know why?” Fancy thought back to his days in the academy. “Part of a deal with the new Empire. Keeping stability in Grypha, or something like that.” “‘Stability.’ That’s right, and Celestia told us not to get involved in the rebellion. We were to stand down.” He sneered and shook his head. “The Lieutenant Colonel had lived there for fifteen years. He’d made friends, and he wasn’t about to let them down. He asked for volunteers to go to the river. Not a single pony said no.” “And you held the crossing.” Fancy leaned closer, his ears perked and his breath cut short. “For six days.” The colonel stared at his hooves, expression hard. “We lost seventy-four ponies, twenty-two griffons and the Lieutenant Colonel, but we held that river until the armies of the Empire finally made it. Goddess knows how many innocent lives we saved in doing so. Y’know how we did it?” He turned to look Fancy in the eye. “Sound strategy, a sense of brotherhood, and hard-hoofed determination. “We took away their aerial advantage.” He waved at the sky as if there were clouds to indicate. “Whipped up storms no gryphon or pony could fly through, then funneled them through the fordable parts of the river. Those bastards were bucking determined, but we were more so.” He turned back to the wall and shook his head. “Now I look at these poor saps and I see the light dimming in their eyes. Eight hundred defenders, gone just like that. No solid strategy, talk of desertion, morale dangerously low. If we don’t turn this around…” He pressed his hooves to his face and said nothing more. Fancy hesitated before reaching over to pat the colonel on the back. He received no response, and so turned his attention to the horizon. “Do you think that we could win if we had a way to bring the dragon to the ground?” Colonel Mander sighed. It was an elongated, depressing sound. “Maybe, if we could down it inside the walls. Yet we couldn’t possibly make a storm strong enough to bring down a dragon. We don’t have the clouds for that, or the pegasi.” “No, I guess we don’t.” There was another long, drawn out silence. Fancy wished he could think of some kind of solution, but it eluded him. How to bring down a dragon when resources were limited? His ears perked to shouts. For an instant his heart flew into his throat, yet when he turned he found the guards on the walls pointing not south, but north. He looked out to see something that made his jaw drop. “I don’t believe it.” The cloud floated in the sky, wide and thin and white. A small group of pegasi constantly maneuvered about the formation, guiding it along. “I’ll be damned,” the colonel muttered at Fancy’s side, “she pulled it off.” “It’s big enough to cover the entire castle,” Fancy observed with a smile. “Finally, at least there’s some good news.” The colonel nodded. “Not enough, but at this point I’ll take what I can get.” They watched as the cloud was steadily pushed towards the fort. One of the pegasi descended, and her identity was quickly apparent by her orange plumage. Captain Feathers spotted them and turned in their direction. She reached them just as the shade passed over the fort, and Fancy gave a relaxed sigh as the sun’s glare was blocked at last. “Congratulations, Captain,” Colonel Mander called. “I can’t believe you found one.” “That makes two of us.” Though Oak’s body glistened with sweat, she bore a broad grin. “This should make even the commander happy.” “I don’t know about that,” Fancy muttered. Captain Feathers turned to point at the collection of wounded soldiers below. “What happened to them?” The colonel’s face went white. His lips worked soundlessly, but in the end he only turned his back to her. Oak cocked her head and turned her attention to Fancy, who lowered his head. “They’re… survivors.” “Survivors?” Oak thought on this for a moment, then gained a bright smile. “You mean the army came back? So where are they?” “No.” Fancy shook his head and braced himself, a hoof pressing against his stomach. “They are the army.” Oak’s arms hung limply as she gawked. “W-what do you mean? Where are the others?” Fancy flinched and looked away. “No.” She turned to stare at the wounded soldiers. Seconds passed in terrible silence. “I don’t see any pegasi. W-where are my Red Wings?” Fancy’s stomach was tied in knots. He glanced to Colonel Mander, but the stallion’s eyes were closed and his breath came in slow gasps. After a while Fancy turned back to the captain. “I’m sorry, Oak… but none of the pegasi have returned.” She jerked around to press her muzzle into his. “None? That’s impossible! You can’t tell me that not a single member of the 42nd made it back!” His chin trembled at her glare, but not because of the harshness within those eyes. No, his concern came from the denial hidden behind their fire. He tried to find words for her, but could only look away. Oak floated back. “Th-that… can’t… be…” She sputtered, raised her hooves, lowered them again. Her entire body began to shake and her eyes were wet. Her face twisted into a menagerie of conflicting expressions: anger, horror, confidence, sadness, amusement, fury, all in the span of a couple seconds as strange, unnatural sounds passed between her lips. At last she just turned away and flew for the survivors. Fancy reached as if to stop her. His hoof was trembling. Colonel Mander sighed. “Yeah, it always hurts worst the first time.” Hoofknife reread his letter, taking note of the fretful nature of his own words. Fine Crime would read them and probably see right through it, which was a good thing. Satisfied, he pulled out his transmittal potion, carefully removed the cap and dropped the rolled up letter inside. It began to disintegrate, as though the contents of the bottle were an acid. Satisfied his message would reach its intended destination, he replaced the bottle in his coat and stood. Being the Mane Archon required a lot of different skills. Hoofknife might have been in his position for several years now, but he’d not lost those old instincts. It had been surprisingly difficult to determine where Celestia now rested – after all, how could one move the ruler of Equestria without being noticed? Somepony did a commendable job keeping things under wraps, he merely hoped they did it for the right reasons. He had listened in on dozens of conversations, tracked a number of ponies, and even had to perform a couple interrogations. In the end, he found himself in an abandoned portion of the dungeons of Estéril Pezuñas… or at least they would seem abandoned to the untrained eye. There was no dust or grit in the path between the cells and there were places where debris had clearly been moved. This was not a surprise to Hoofknife; anypony of the proper rank knew that the city’s vaults were located here. What did surprise Hoofknife was the blatant lack of security: no guards, no detection spells, nothing. Only a single large, steel door hidden behind a fake wall. It was supposedly here that Celestia had been taken, and the ponies he’d interrogated claimed it was for her protection in case of a dragon attack. That did make a certain amount of common sense; this area of the dungeons was so deep into the earth that it was actually cool compared to the rest of the castle, and thus would be less likely to take damage in the event of an attack. Even so, something about the nature of this didn’t sit well with him. He had only a gut feeling, but Hoofknife had learned long ago to trust his instincts, and his instincts told him something was wrong with this situation. Too much secrecy, too much care and manipulation. Although the lack of guards might make for an effective veil of unimportance, it didn’t fit well with the already established importance of the location. Hoofknife knew he should wait for other Archons to come to his aid. Deep Depths was on his way and Fine Crime would at least know of Celestia’s location, but it could be days before either of them arrived. He had no time; Celestia lay beyond, and Hoofknife had to know that she was okay. So, kneeling by the door, the pulled out his lockpicks and set to work. As expected, the lock on the door was complicated. Not top-grade merchandise, but still a solid design. Hoofknife held his tongue between his teeth as he worked, a habit he’d almost forgotten about. To his pleasure, he’d not lost his field knowledge. Within five minutes he had the lock’s inner mechanisms figured out and, though he had to pull out an extra pick to do the job, the door finally opened. He pushed his way into the vault and immediately felt a wave of cool air. He took in the sights to find himself in a long hallway. Pushing the door closed, Hoofknife crept through the dim lighting, his hooves making no sound. At the end of the brown stone hall, he came upon a four-way split in the path. He could see that each path was lined with chests, each chest having a notepad stuck to the wall above it. He walked down one of the paths, his eyes roaming the notes. Curious, he opened a chest to find it half-filled with bits. Uninterested, he closed it and moved on. Hoofknife knew from his files that the four paths converged on a single room, a high security vault. It had once been used to store dangerous artifacts, but those had been moved – many of them appropriated by the Archons for safer keeping – and thus the back vault was mostly abandoned. He was still surprised to see it opened wide. Hoofknife paused at the sight of a blackish crust on the floor and walls of the vault entrance. He’d never seen it before, but he’d heard enough descriptions from agents to know what it was. Automatically put on alert, he crouched and began to think of potential attacks. Even as he did, however, his mind ran rampant with horrible possibilities. Only decades of training and experience kept his panic pushed to the back of his mind. One thing was abundantly clear: this was a problem that needed to be resolved now. He paused at the entry of the vault, his breath held tight in his chest as he braced for the worst. A dim, purple glow arose from small, pod-like structures on the walls and ceiling. Through the lighting he could see something black and round in the back of the room. Slowly, his eyes darting about for threats, he stepped inside. Empty. No enemies, no guards. He was alone. Hoofknife exhaled slowly, thanking the Goddess for his luck. He stepped further in, the black gunk sticking unpleasantly to his hooves. A quick look around revealed that the object in the back was the only thing in the vault, so he approached it. What he saw shot his heart into his throat. Celestia lay on her back, sleeping serenely and looking far better than she had the last time he’d seen her. The lower half of her body was encased in what appeared to be an incomplete cocoon, a kind of biological device that he’d only heard of in rumors. He knew exactly what it was used for, and what would happen to his pretty princess if the thing was completed and allowed to do its terrible work to her mind. The very thought of what he was seeing almost made Hoofknife vomit. Despite his shaking legs, however, he knew he had to work fast. If the cocoon was incomplete, then the ones responsible for its creation wouldn’t be far away. The Queen could make cocoons like these quickly and within minutes, which meant this one had to be the work of her minions. That wasn’t as comforting a thought as he’d have liked. Worse, he now understood why Reddux hadn’t bothered to finish off Estéril Pezuñas. Hoofknife pulled out a knife and aimed it for the cocoon, ready to cut it away. He would get Celestia out of here and spirit her from the castle. It was the only way to be certain— Pain seared into his side and he shouted. Before Hoofknife could use his blade, something smashed into the back of his skull. Stars erupted in his vision and he collapsed atop Celestia’s body with a groan. He was dragged off Celestia, and he registered the blood pooled on her chest as his own. He hit the floor on his side, gasping at the pain of the impact. He started to lift his weapon again, but something black struck the side of his head and it clattered to the floor. Eyes. Slitted, blue eyes and leering faces. The last thing he noticed before his world faded was the clicking laughter.