//------------------------------// // The Sun's Kind Embrace // Story: Tales From the Phoenix Empire // by Chengar Qordath //------------------------------// I’ve been working for the Order of Sol Invictus since I was still in Flight Camp. At first it was just a little volunteer work on the weekends and after class, but I decided to become a full-fledged member once I was done with school. The day I became Dame Fluttershy, Knight Hospitaller in the Order of Sol Invictus, remains one of the proudest moments of my life. Since then, I had been very busy helping citizens across the Empire. With how huge the Empire was, there was always somepony somewhere who needed our help, whether it was containing a feather flu outbreak in Westmarch, disaster relief after that earthquake in Southmarch, or helping to evacuate some of the outlying Freeport islands before a tsunami hit. It didn’t matter where we went so long as the Order was doing good work and helping those in need. Thankfully, my business in the Zebrican province was a bit less urgent. There was a new vaccine for the pony pox—which was somewhat misnamed since it affected zebras too—and the Order was helping to distribute it to the populace. Of course, we weren’t just performing vaccinations: the Order offered free medical care to anyone who needed it, so there were always plenty of other matters to take care of. Not that I minded the extra work; I was just glad to have a chance to help. I found myself helping a young zebra colt who had cracked his hoof playing with some friends. I had helped young ponies with similar injuries plenty of times, and there’s really not much difference between zebra and pony anatomy. We’re all the same underneath. We all have hopes, fears, dreams, and ambitions. I still don’t understand how some ponies can think other sapients are so different from us. Maybe they’d just never had a chance to talk to a zebra or a buffalo or some other species. They were probably just confused and scared; it’s easy to be scared of a species you’ve never met. At least the Empire was helping to bring all these different species together. A couple of the other knights say I’m being naïve, but I really do believe that one day ponies, zebras, gryphons, changelings, and all the other species in the Empire will learn to live together in friendship and harmony. Maybe it’s a bit unrealistic to think that there will never be any problems with all the different races, but if nobody ever dreams about that kind of thing, then it’ll never come true. If believing that one day we could find true unity and harmony makes me silly or naïvely optimistic, then that’s fine. I’d rather have a silly but beautiful dream than tell myself that the world was an ugly, cruel place and there was nothing I could do to change it. Sometimes you just need to believe that everyone has the capacity to be good. I know the Empire isn’t perfect. I know that some of the member-races weren’t given much choice about joining, but all of that was a long time ago. We can’t change the past, but we could make a new future for ourselves if we worked together. One where all the intelligent species on the planet worked together to make the world a better place. The Order used medical techniques from all across the Empire, combining the knowledge of a dozen different species to do things that no single one of them could have managed. It was like the old metaphor about how a single stick was easy to break but a bundle of sticks tied together would be strong. After I finished setting that young zebra colt’s hoof, I needed to restock on a few of my supplies. Our chapter house in Zanzebra wasn’t as big as the one in the old Zebrican capital of Zekara or the new provincial capital of Fenixmji, so things were a bit crowded now that a bunch of other Hospitallers, myself included, were visiting for the vaccination drive. The medical ward had been built to house half a dozen doctors and had enough beds for fifty patients, but right now there were a dozen more visiting doctors counting me, and more zebras than I could count crammed into the area. Considering we were supposed to vaccinate everyone in Zanzebra, there really wasn’t enough room. The storage closet that would normally have all our bandages and disinfectant was full of vaccination supplies instead, so I had to go to one of the smaller supply closets hidden in one of the back corners of the room. Getting across the room was a challenge all by itself; luckily my armor and a few kind words were enough to clear a path. Even with a doctor’s coat over the steel, I probably looked a little intimidating. Sometimes I really wish the uniform standards within Sol Invictus were a bit less strict—I don’t like scaring my patients. When I reached the supply closet, I noticed that the door was slightly ajar. It was supposed to be locked up tight, but considering how hectic things were, it was understandable that somepony had overlooked it. I would just have to be extra careful about shutting the door behind me. However, once I was inside I realized that the problem was something else entirely. A young zebra stallion wearing a face-concealing cloak was rummaging through our supplies, stuffing several boxes of antibiotics into a plain brown bag. I hadn’t been in Zanzebra long enough to get to know everyone who worked here, but I was almost certain this zebra wasn’t one of our employees, especially given his behavior. That meant he was a thief. Stealing. From a hospital.  I removed my coat, firmly placed myself between the thief and the exit, rested a hoof on the hilt of my dagger, then politely cleared my throat. “Excuse me, but I don’t think those belong to you. Would you please put them back?” It doesn’t cost anything to be polite, even to a thief, but in my years with the Order I’ve learned that sometimes you’ll accomplish more with a kind word and a dagger than you will with just a kind word. The thief froze, his eyes flicking over his shoulder at me. That was the other reason I’d tried to look just a little scary: if he just saw a doctor, he might try to run away with everything he’d stole, or even fight past me. If he did that, I might have to hurt him, and I didn’t want to do that. “If you just put back everything you stole, you won’t be in too much trouble.” The young zebra took one look at me, then swallowed nervously and began slowly removing the stolen medical supplies from his bag. Sweat was trickling down the back of his neck, and his shoulders slumped. “I—I did not mean to—” He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. “I am not a thief. My father is hurt, and I want to bring him relief.” “I’m very sorry to hear that your father was hurt,” I answered levelly. “But that doesn’t give you the right to steal from a hospital. If you bring him here, we would be happy to help, or we could try to arrange a house call. But I can’t just let you steal supplies we need to help everyone else who comes here.” Even though I wanted to believe this young zebra was just a frightened colt trying to help his father, a part of me was also suspicious of his claim. As important as it is to think the best of others, I’d learned to not let others take advantage of my kindness. Maybe he really did have a sick father, or maybe he was just a thief who wanted to steal our supplies and sell them. I thought it over for a moment. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to put you in one of our cells for the rest of the day. Once I’m done helping to vaccinate everyone, we can go visit your father, and I would be more than happy to help him.” I paused, then pointedly met his eyes—Cloud and Rainbow both said I had a very intimidating stare back in Flight Camp. “We’ll also need to talk to him about what you’ve done.” The thief swallowed, his eyes darting around nervously. I think he would have tried to run if not for the fact that I was blocking the only exit. “P-please stranger, let me go on my way. I need this medicine today—my father is bedridden and very bad health; your medicines work best and you have a great wealth.” He waved to the large stockpile of supplies. I sighed. “Do you even know what he’s sick with, or what medicine would be best to treat him? If you use the wrong thing you could just make his condition worse. That’s why we have doctors, and why I’ll need to see him first.” “It’s something we know very well, but something I’m not supposed to tell. I’ve left everything else alone, please … let me go back.” His eyes darted towards the door. “On my own.” I frowned at his answer; claiming he needed the supplies for his father but refusing to let me help was rather suspicious. If he was trying to lie his way out of trouble, I was going to be very upset with him. “After what you did today, I’m afraid you don’t have any choice. I’m sure you were just worried for your father, but stealing from a hospital is a very serious crime. If you can prove you were just trying to help your father, then we can take that into consideration.” I took a moment to remove my hoof from my dagger’s hilt, and toned down the intensity of my stare. “If we can’t talk to your father, somepony might call you a liar, and then you’ll be in much more trouble. And if your father is sick enough for you to steal from a hospital, then he really needs my help.” The colt’s entire body slumped in defeat. “I wanted to care for him privately—he doesn’t like accepting help, you see. He’d refuse to come in out of pride, so I wanted to help him in a way that wouldn’t be brushed aside.” Oh dear. I’ve had plenty of difficult patients over the years. Sometimes the locals are wary of accepting treatment from a pony doctor, sometimes they prefer their own traditional medicine, and there are a few who are just difficult on principle. Still, I couldn’t let that stop me. “I’m sure I can handle whatever’s wrong with him. Just tell me where your family lives, and whatever you can about his illness.” “It...” His eyes nervously darted around the room. “There are creatures here we don’t talk about. Their names alone … it’s better to wait it out. I wish I never knew, and you’re a good pony. I wouldn’t want one of them to come to you.” “Oh my...” A monster attack was something completely different from an illness. That was really a job for the Long Patrol, not a doctor. I was about to say as much when the obvious problem sprang to mind: if his father refused to even have his injuries properly treated, of course he would also refuse to report the attack to the proper authorities. “I would be glad to help your father with his injuries, but I’m afraid I will also have to report the attack. I understand your father wouldn’t want that, but if someone gets hurt or killed because I kept his secret then that would be my fault. “ The young thief nodded, sighing in resignation. “I understand. This expedition did not go as planned. I am Mosi, son of Mwenye.” He smiled sheepishly. “It is a pleasure to meet you today.” I smiled and nodded. “I am Dame Fluttershy, Knight Hospitaller in Order of Sol Invictus. I know these aren’t the best circumstances for an introduction, but it’s a pleasure to meet you regardless, Mosi.” I stepped out of the doorway. “Will your father will be safe until we finish up here?” “He should be.” A moment later he blinked in surprise when I passed some supplies to him, “Wait, did you say we?” “Yes.” I loaded him down with a few more things. “I don’t think you’re a bad zebra, so you might as well get a start on making up for your crime by spending the day helping out at the hospital. Maybe meeting some of the zebras whose medical supplies you tried to steal will be a good lesson.” I paused, looking back out at the crowded medical ward. “And goodness knows we could certainly use the help.” He didn’t say anything else, but he didn’t need to. I understood his hug just fine.  Mosi put in several hours of work before the day was over. He was very helpful, which reassured me that I’d made the right decision. Administering vaccinations is rather dull as far as medical work goes. A quick physical and check of the patient’s medical history for any potential issues, then give them the shot. The simple, repetitive nature of it all gave me plenty of time to think. Quite a few of my old friends had been very surprised when I decided to become a knight. To be quite honest, I was still a little surprised myself, and I’d been a knight for a couple years now. Joining the Order of Sol Invictus was one thing, but most of their members just did charity work like what I did in the hospital. The actual Knights of Sol Invictus were few and far between these days; between the Long Patrol, Imperial Security, and the Phoenix Knights, a lot of ponies didn’t think the Order even needed knights anymore, beyond a token security force to do things like stop anyone from stealing our medical supplies. I suppose if I really thought about it, I became a knight because of my childhood friends: Rainbow Dash, Cloud Solaris, and Ditzy Doo. I’d always felt like I was the weakest member of the group when I was with them. Rainbow was just so brave and fearless, while Cloud and Ditzy were both going to be soldiers when they grew up. And then there was shy, scared, weak, and helpless little Fluttershy, who always needed her friends to take care of her. I hated feeling like I was a burden to my friends, but for the longest time I didn’t know what to do to fix it. Even after I started volunteering at Sol Invictus I still felt terrible. While I knew I was helping by being a medical assistant, deep down I was still the same scared, useless filly I’d been back at Flight Camp. That all changed after I met Sir Solemus. He had been a knight once, but he had become too old to really take care of himself. At first I just brought him his pills and did a couple other little things to help, but he was a very nice old stallion who was also very lonely. He didn’t have any family on account of spending his whole life serving the Order, so nopony ever came to visit him. I stopped by his room every day though, even when helping him wasn’t part of my chores. Once I was spending a couple hours with him every day, he started telling me his stories. He had been a knight for more than fifty years, so he had so many of them to tell. I loved those stories, full of bravery, heroism, chivalry, and all kinds of things I wished I could do. As much as I enjoyed his stories, they also made me sad because they reminded me of all the things I would never be strong enough to do. Finally, it all came spilling out one day. I just started crying uncontrollably in the middle of one of his stories. I tried to stop myself before the old knight saw my tears, but it was no good. The fact that I couldn’t even stop myself from crying just made me feel even worse than I already did. I buried my face in my hooves. A few seconds later I felt a gentle touch on my shoulder. “Fluttershy? What's the matter? I hope my story didn't upset you.” My voice cracked as I answered him, “N—no.” I tried to give him a better answer, but it was hard to even speak through the tears. “It's not you, it's—it's me.” “You?” His kindly old face crinkled in confusion. “What could be the matter with such a kind and gentle soul such as yourself?” I sniffled and wiped my nose. It always started leaking when I cried too much, and it made me look horrible. “In—in that story, I'm the damsel in the tower.” I grabbed a few tissues and messily blew my nose. “I'm scared and useless, and I can't do anything except wait for somepony to rescue me.” “Oh, gentle Fluttershy.” His forelegs wrapped around me. “Do you want me to tell you something important but so very true?” I whimpered out a weak affirmation. “To be honest, I was almost always scared during those stories, either for my life or for others. It's a heavy burden to know that the slightest misstep could cost a life, whether my own or another. It's the type of fear that can paralyze a pony when they need to act, or wake them up screaming in the middle of the night long after.” I stared at him, trying to make sense of that. “But you're so brave.” He answered me with a smile that showed all the wisdom of his years. “Bravery is not the absence of fear, my dear. Bravery is overcoming fear to do what you must. The bravest of us all is the pony that must overcome the most fear.” I thought about that for a minute, and a nervous laugh bubbled out of my lips. “I'm scared of everything, so...” “If you’re scared of everything, then you must be a very brave filly indeed.” He gently tipped my chin up, meeting my eyes. “Not just anypony would spend their free time tending to an old warhorse like me, or helping the sick and wounded down in the medical ward. That requires a strength of character only a few ponies possess.” I smiled at the compliment, even though I didn’t really think I deserved it. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. “This is easy. I just show up and help ponies. But ... but I'll never be brave the way knights are. I'll never be strong. I'll just be useless.” Sir Solemus was quiet for a long time, staring at me thoughtfully. When he spoke, his words carried much more weight than they normally did. “Do you truly want to be strong? To have the power to help others, no matter how dangerous or frightful the situation?” I knew the answer to that question the instant he asked it. “More than anything.” He nodded at my answer, seeming quite pleased by it. “Then I suggest you become a knight.” “What?” I was certain I must have misheard him. “M-me? A knight? No, I couldn't ... nopony would ever think I could be a knight.” Sir Solemus threw back his head and let out a hearty laugh. “Oh Fluttershy, just because nopony would think it doesn't mean you can't make it true. You become a squire, you do the training, and your masters will whip you into shape. Trust me on that. Why, I was nothing more than a whelp of a lad when I became a page. And I've heard stranger tales than your own for ponies who became knights.” I still couldn’t believe my ears. “But—but I wouldn't even know where to start...” “You know Dame Quiet Dreams?” I told him that I had seen her at the Sol Invictus compound a few times. “Go talk to her, tell her you want to become a knight. She'll help you through the first steps of that. Tell her I sent you.” Quiet Dreams was a big, strong, confident mare. She always looked so huge and dangerous walking around the compound in her armor. The mere idea of just going up to her and telling her that I wanted to be a knight was... “She'll take one look at me and know I'm not good enough.” The old knight gripped my shoulders. “Do you want this, Fluttershy? Do you want to be strong enough to help ponies? You said a minute ago that you wanted it more than anything.” I thought about that for a bit, and felt a bit more sure of myself. “Yes. I want to help others. That’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.” He smiled, “Good answer. If that’s really how you feel, then go to her and act like it. Don't take no for an answer. If you do, then you don't really want it. Prove that you really want it.” I blinked, shocked at the suggestion. “But, but what if she gets mad at me...?” If she said no and I didn’t listen, she would probably be furious. She would probably go around telling everypony how awfully I’d behaved, and maybe even make it so I couldn’t volunteer to help everyone at the Order. She could even bar me from seeing Sir Solemus again. The old knight didn’t seem to be worried about that, though. He just chuckled and patted my shoulder. “You can be firm without being rude, my dear. Dame Dream is a big filly. She can take whatever you throw at her. I dare say that you at your absolute rudest would still be one of the more pleasant conversations she’s had with a prospective recruit.” “But ... but...” I trailed off, staring down at the floor and shuffling my hooves. He patiently waited for me to put words to my fears. “But what if I'm not good enough?” “How will you know if you’re good enough unless you try?” he countered. “I think that if you work at it, you will be. Being a knight is about more than just the strength of your body. It's also about character, being a protector of the weak, acting upright, and being a defender of justice. If you keep to your moral compass, you can't stray too far.” He put a hoof on my chest, right over my heart. “It’s much easier to teach someone with a good heart to be strong than it is to teach someone strong how to have a good heart.” “Do you really think I could do it?” I stared up at him uncertainly, and he nodded, smiling encouragingly. “O-okay. I guess I could give it try.” He very gently shook his head. “Don't try. Do it. If something is worthwhile to you, you need to commit to it wholly.” “I don’t...” He wanted me to commit to being a knight right now? What if I didn’t like it? What if two weeks into the training I realized I would be a terrible knight, and I would completely miserable if I went through with it? What if I was so terrible that all the other recruits laughed at me and called me names? What if my old friends from Flight Camp found out, and even they thought it was so silly that they started laughing? What if... What if. What if I spent the rest of my life regretting the time I turned away from being a knight because I was too scared to try? I could always find dozens of reasons not to do something, no matter how much I wanted to. But never doing anything because I was too scared of ‘what if’ was how I had become a damsel who was scared of everything. If I wanted to be a Knight, I needed to stop worrying about all the things that might go wrong, and start focusing on what I wanted out of life. I took a deep breath and made my decision. “I'll do it!” Just saying the words made my heart flutter, and soon I was smiling. “I'm going to become a knight!” And I did. It took a long time, and the training was very hard. I thought about quitting more than once, especially in the early stages while I was still getting in shape. For weeks I went to bed tired and sore, and I never got enough rest to fully recover before the next day’s work began. I think everypony expected me to quit after the first week, even my parents. But no matter how hard it was, I kept trying. Eventually the workouts were easier, the weapons started to feel like a natural extension of my body, and before I knew it, I was squired to Quiet Dreams herself. I still can’t believe it all happened, but I will always be glad I decided to take a chance and chase after my dreams. Mosi’s family home caught me by surprise—I had been expecting something a bit more ... zebra. I know that sounds rather prejudiced, but the house seemed to be deliberately modeled on an Equestrian home. From the outside, it looked like a home that would fit in perfectly in any pony city. The inside was a bit more unique: all the furniture was Equestrian, but I don’t know many ponies who keep such a large picture of the Empress in their front room. I fixed the young zebra with a rather pointed look. “This seems like a rather nice house for someone who has to break into a hospital just to get medical supplies. Why didn’t you just buy what you needed from a store?” He almost tripped over his own hooves, and an embarrassed flush appeared on his cheeks. “Well, father would have ... erm ... that is ... I didn’t think of that.” I softly sighed and rubbed my forehead. It seemed that regardless of species, teenagers were prone to acting without thinking things through. For a moment it reminded me of one of my old fillyhood friends, Rainbow Dash. I hadn’t seen her since she’d gone into the advanced training program after Flight Camp. I really should catch up with her some day. I returned my attention to the troublesome teenager in front of me. “You really should have thought things through. I know you were probably just scared and not thinking straight, but you committed a serious crime.” He stared down at his hooves. “I ... understand. It was poorly planned.” I sighed and let the matter drop for the moment. “Now, what can you tell me about your father?” Mosi’s gaze shifted to his home, and his chastened demeanour faded as he snorted loudly. “I’m sure you noticed my father is very patriotic. He believes the relationship between the zebras and ponies ought to be more symbiotic. Some have claimed he is nothing but a phony, and deep down wishes that he was born a pony.” “Oh.” I obviously didn’t know all the details of what was happening in Mosi’s home, but I’ve spent enough time in the provinces to know it was part of a broader trend. Every single species in the Empire had to deal with the issue of Imperial identity versus their own local one. Some like Mwenye tried to embrace the Empire and modernity, while others clung to their old traditions in the face of a changing world.  I suppose the key was to find a balance that let everyone be part of a greater whole without abandoning what made them unique and special. Mosi stepped inside, and I was quite happy to feel the rush of cold air as we stepped in out of the heat. My armor had enchantments to help deal with the climate and general discomfort of wearing it all day, but I still appreciated getting out of the sun. Especially since the home had Equestrian-style climate control, presumably provided by ice gems. Mosi led the way upstairs, knocking on one of the bedroom doors. “I have returned, father, and with new help on offer. A pony doctor to check your injury and hopefully help lessen your current misery.” I couldn’t help but notice that he put a bit of emphasis on the fact that I was a pony. Though I suppose that if his father was a big believer in imperial integration, the fact that I was a pony might convince him to accept treatment. His father answered through the bedroom door. “Very well, come in. And stop that infernal rhyming nonsense, Mosi, it sounds ridiculous.” Mosi tensed and scowled. “I honor our ancestors’ ancient ways, even if you do not believe them worthy of praise.” “So long as you live under my roof, you’ll honor what I tell you to,” the older zebra groused. “And if you put such honor on our traditions, you’d know that only shamans, aristocrats, and social climbers ever bothered with the whole rhyming business.” Mosi offered no answer of his own, but glowered at the door. I heard several thumps from within the room, and then the door opened. Mwenye looked much like his son, though older and larger. He moved slowly, like someone in significant pain who was taking great care to avoid any action that might worsen his condition. His eyes, both of which bore half-faded bruises, widened a bit when saw my armor, confusion replacing his welcoming smile. “I ... it is a pleasure to meet you, Miss...” I offered him my hoof. “Dame Fluttershy, Knight Hospitaller of the Order of Sol Invictus.” I kept a polite smile on my face, though internally I was quite surprised by his condition. He certainly didn’t look like someone who was bedridden by illness. If anything, he looked like he’d been attacked and savagely beaten. The uncertainty faded from his eyes, and he smiled and enthusiastically shook my hoof. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, madam. I’ve heard great things about the Order and their hospitallers, and it is an honor to have a knight as a guest within my home. If you need anything, anything at all, please let me know, and I will provide it at once.” “Thank you, that’s very kind of you.” I would have politely declined his offer, but the scowl on Mosi’s face made me think that perhaps sending him away on an errand would be prudent. I hardly wanted to be caught in the middle of a family argument. “Perhaps a glass of iced tea?” Mwenye nodded, then shot a pointed look at his son. The colt trotted away, leaving the two of us alone. His father then turned back to me. “I apologize for any words you overheard between my son and me. Things have been ... difficult between us, of late.” I answered him with a gentle, understanding smile. “I took no offense, sir. Every family has problems.” I politely cleared my throat. “Now then, your son told me you were injured recently? I hope it was nothing too serious.” From what I could tell, he had nothing worse than bruises, and obviously his wounds weren’t severe enough to leave him bedridden, but I needed to perform a proper examination anyway. “Oh, yes, that.” He waved a hoof over his bruised face. “Nothing to worry about, I just slipped and fell on the stairs.” A bit of nervous sweat sprang up on his brow, and his voice grew slightly strained. “Just an ordinary household accident, certainly nothing worth bothering a knight over.” I frowned at his answer, especially since I suspected he wasn’t being completely honest with me. I could hardly accuse him of being a liar, though. “Well, since I’ve come all this way, I might as well check your injuries. Though your son said you were attacked by a creature, not that you were injured in an accident.” Mwenye shot a glare in the direction of the kitchen. “My son was mistaken. He has read too many of his foolish old books and spent too much time with that witch doctor. The Popobawa is nothing but a bunch of superstitious nonsense spread about by zebras who are too attached to the old ways.” Ah. At least now I had a name for the creature that threatened Mwenye. Though I had no idea what a Popobawa was, I could always report it to the nearest Long Patrol detachment. If this Popobawa was some kind of monster, then the Patrol would probably know all about it. That was their job, after all. There was just one problem with that plan: I had no proof that there was a monster at all. As long as Mwenye stuck to his claim that he was hurt in a household accident, the Patrol wouldn’t make any investigation a high priority. Considering how difficult things were between him and his son, they might well assume it was just some sort of family argument. If Mwenye was in danger, I needed to either convince him to file a report or find some other proof that he’d been attacked by a monster. Unfortunately, his injuries didn’t provide any evidence. Maybe somepony who’d studied forensic medicine would’ve found something, but I was just a doctor. There weren’t any obvious claw marks or other signs of an attack, just bruises. Maybe they were in the shape of a monster’s limbs, or maybe he really did just get them from falling on the stairs. I confirmed he didn’t have anything worse than minor injuries, then gave him something for the pain and swelling. That was strange too—I can’t think of any monsters that would just bruise someone they attacked without trying to eat them or anything. Then again, I didn’t really know anything about this Popobawa creature Mosi believed was responsible for his father’s injuries. Since Mwenye didn’t even believe that the creature existed, I doubted I could get much information from him. Once I was done with his father, I found Mosi in the kitchen preparing my glass of iced tea. His ears perked up when I entered, and he passed the glass over to me. “What is it? Is my father going to be alright? Can you help him?” He paused, then hastily added. “I was worried that without aid his prospects were dim.” “He wasn’t too badly hurt,” I assured him, “and I’ve done everything I can to help make him comfortable.” I frowned, mulling over exactly how to put my next question. “Why did you lie to me about what was wrong with him?” His cheeks once more lit up with shame. “I know I should not have lied to you, but my father refuses to admit that the monster is true. I know he holds great respect for Imperial ways, and thus I thought that—” “I wouldn’t believe in the monster either,” I finished for him. I thought it over for a moment, and reached my conclusion. “I don’t really know enough about the creatures in Zanzebra to say if any monster exists or doesn’t, and I don’t know if I can trust you after how much you’ve lied to me.” “No, please!” He desperately grasped one of my hooves. “The Creature will attack him again!” Mosi’s eyes drifted up towards his father’s room, and he worried at his lower lip. “It will keep coming every night until he is slain.” That did sound somewhat plausible, at least. Mwenye’s injuries might have been mild because the monster wasn’t done with him yet. Many monsters enjoy that kind of thing, stalking and frightening their prey for days, weeks, or even months. Some of them even feed on the fear of their victims, growing stronger from it. If that was the case, then the attacks would only get worse. Unfortunately, while that answered one or two inconsistencies with Mosi’s story, it didn’t prove anything. Especially since Mosi’s previous lies made it rather difficult to trust anything he said. However, if his father’s life was at stake I couldn’t ignore the possibility that this time he was being honest with me. I would have to dig a bit deeper. “Mosi, is there someone in Zanzebra who knows about Popobawas?” His father had mentioned a witch doctor he spent time with; a shaman would probably know all about the local monsters, and could even discern if Mwenye was being attacked or not. Not to mention a second zebra confirming his story would help offset Mosi’s unreliability. “I know someone who can help,” he confirmed. “She has taught me the old secrets of our people since I was a whelp.” “Great. Can you take me to her?” “Yes.” He started to rise from his seat, then paused and frowned. “I ... erm...” He frowned, tapping a hoof and murmuring words that rhymed with ‘yes’ under his breath. Then he took a deep breath and cleared his throat, probably just hoping to start the sentence over again. Though I’m normally not one to be flippant about respecting other cultures, this problem was just a bit urgent. It was already well into the evening, and most monster attacks, especially ones that happened indoors, happened late at night. I didn’t want to let Mwenye get hurt again. “We should hurry. You can worry about the rhyme later.” He sighed, nodded, and led the way. I made a quick stop by the Order’s armory to pick up my spear and a helmet, as well as letting them know where I was going. Once that was done Mosi led me to the shaman’s hut. The shaman lived in the woods a couple miles outside of the Zanzebra City, and by the time we arrived at her hut, the sun had fully set. Thankfully, though, the moon provided enough light for us to make our way through the forest. I only knew a bit of general information about zebra shamans. They were more than just spellcasters like our magi; they were also guardians of the lore and traditions of their race. It made them quite different from unicorn magi, who really didn’t have much of a role in society beyond using their magic in the service of the Empire. They still gathered information, but it was more along the lines of finding information about monsters and magic, and they guarded that information closely. Shamans were just the opposite: they wanted to share their stories with as many zebras as possible. The shaman’s hut was built in the old, traditional zebrican style, though that might have been as much a matter of practicality as adherence to the ancient ways. Traditional zebrican homes were certainly better suited to the climate than Equestrian-style buildings, absent slow-release cold gems—the Order’s chapter house would have been horrible without those. There was a large garden in front of the shaman’s hut stocked with dozens of different herbs, some of which I’d never seen before. Mosi trotted up to the door and knocked. “Shaman Zecora, it is me, your sometime-apprentice Mosi. I brought a friend who needs to speak to you about my father and the beast that beat him black and blue.” “Come in, come in, you and your friend.” The female voice coming through the door carried a heavier zebra accent than I was used to, but at least she still spoke Equestrian. It was rare to meet somepony in the Empire who didn’t, but the shamans were supposed to be one of the most traditionalist groups within zebra society. I wouldn’t have been surprised if she only spoke Zebrican. The shaman opened the door, smiling at Mosi. “I hope your father’s wounds continue to mend.” She was younger than I had expected; probably only a few years older than me. Her blue eyes were a bit unusual for a zebra, but that might just mean she had a bit of pony heritage. It was fairly common: most of the soldiers stationed in zebra territory wound up marrying zebras since our species looked so similar. Her home’s simple wooden walls were mostly bare of decoration, only dotted with a few masks that were rather intimidating. Herbs, spices, and talismans all dangled from the ceiling on fishing line, and a large cupboard and table were tucked away in the far corner. Both of them were quite messy, strewn about with ingredients, bowls, fetishes, and half-finished talismans strewn about in a kind of organized chaos that probably made more sense to the shaman than it would to her visitor. She turned to me, her eyes flicking over my armor. “And who are you, fair pony knight? It is quite a surprise to meet you this night.” “I’m Dame Fluttershy.” I offered her my hoof, then removed my helmet and smiled. “And no offense, but I think it might be cheating to rhyme knight and night.” She smiled and nodded. “Perhaps so, but if you had to come up with a rhyme for every sentence, you would soon find that you will not be perfect in every instance. Especially when visitors come late at night, and one of them is a pony knight.” A faint smile played across her lips at the deliberate repetition of that rhyme. I smiled and dipped my head, acknowledging her point. I can’t imagine I would ever be able to rhyme all the time. Even with lots of practice, it must be very hard to do, especially since somepony had probably asked her about oranges at some point just to tease her. Really, the whole rhyming thing seemed just a bit silly to me, but I was sure that there were plenty of pony customs that seemed strange to zebras too. Besides, I was here on important business. “Mosi has told you about what’s wrong with his father, correct? And that he believes a monster is responsible for the attacks? Is there anything you could do to help with that?” She immediately nodded. “Yes, yes, but first come inside. Who knows what troubles the night might hide?” She opened the door all the way, inviting us into her home. “May I fetch you something to drink? A cup of tea often helps me think.” While I took a seat, Zecora trotted to the other end of the room and poured three cups. “So what can you tell me about this ... Popobawa?” Mosi twitched at the name, but Zecora just calmly set the cups of tea down in front of us. I took a sip; it was a rather nice, slightly minty herbal mix with just a little bit of jasmine in it. “The Popobawa is a troublesome beast.” She swirled her own tea contemplatively. “Though in recent times their presence has decreased. It has two legs and the wings of a bat, and moves as silently as a hunting cat. Its head has only a single eye, and in hunting its prey it is quite sly. It always attacks those who deny its existence, and thus will be slow to ask for assistance.” I frowned down at my drink, slightly confused. “But why would Mwenye keep denying that the monster exists after it attacked him? I mean, now that he’s actually met it...” Zecora sighed and shook her head. “Mwenye’s weakness has always been his pride; so long as it holds, the creature will be denied.” “Oh dear...” I sighed and sipped some more of the tea. “I suppose I will have to take care of the monster without his help, then. Do you have any idea where its lair might be? Does it have any weaknesses? Is there any way to convince it to leave Mwenye and everyone else alone without resorting to violence?” She frowned, her head cocking to the side. “Popobawas are not peaceful creatures. A thirst for violence, pain, and fear are chief among their features. You do not intend to slay the monster? Most knights would be quick to do so and enhance their honor, yet you would end this without seeing it harmed?” She waved a hoof at my weapons and armor. “If that is so, then why are you armed?” “Some monsters would see an unarmed pony as nothing more but an easy meal.” I frowned, then slowly shook my head. “While I don’t want to hurt it if there’s another acceptable way of handling this problem, I also can’t let a monster go around attacking innocent zebras. If I can’t persuade the Popobawa to leave him alone, then I might have no choice but to force him.” “He is not innocent!” Mosi snapped. “It was his disrespect for our traditions that brought this ancient beast upon him.” Zecora shot a pointed look at the young colt, who closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and calmed himself. “I am sorry, my reaction was not proper. I am ... my father’s circumstances are weighing heavily upon me. I am usually much better behaved, you see.” Zecora answered him with an understanding smile. “You are forgiven, my young apprentice. Fear for our families often makes us senseless.” She turned back to me, finishing her tea before she spoke. “I know where the beast likely makes its lair. I hope you will not mind if I accompany you there.” She rose from her seat, then trotted to a closet and opened it up, producing a staff and several small saddlebags. “I had hoped the traditional cure could be applied, but it seems Mwenye has far too much pride. It is foolish of him to draw its attack when the monster could be so easily turned back.” She sighed and nodded to herself. “A Popobawa is dangerous to face alone, which is why I have not sought it on my own. It has been some time since I went on an adventure, but I will bring some useful skills to this joint venture.” Oh. I hadn’t been expecting her to go that far to help me, but I certainly wasn’t going to turn her down. After all, she knew the local area much better than I did, and might know other useful things about the monster we were hunting. “The more the merrier. How soon will you be ready to go?” She secured the last of her pouches to her saddlebag and retrieved a rather stout-looking staff. “I already am. If you will follow me, ma’am.” She trotted out the door, but paused and glanced back at Mosi. “Return to your father’s side, young colt. Go home, lock the door, and set the bolt.” Mosi meekly nodded, following us out and starting down the path back to the city. While he did that, Zecora and I moved deeper into the forest. The forest is a very scary place at night. Once Zecora and I moved off the beaten path, the trees grew so thick that there was barely enough light to see by. That wasn’t nearly as bad as the underbrush, though. I was very glad I was wearing my armor, because I couldn’t go more than a couple dozen steps without tangling my legs on a fallen branch, a thorny vine, or something else. If not for my armor, I would probably have cuts and scrapes all over my body. I briefly tried hovering a short distance off the ground to escape the undergrowth, but that just made low-hanging branches a problem instead. Getting tangled up every once in a while was far less dangerous than possibly hitting my head. Zecora moved through the woods without any trouble, somehow always knowing exactly where to put her hooves so she wouldn’t have any problems. It didn’t take long for me to realize that my best option would be to follow her hoofsteps as closely as possible. That made things go a bit more smoothly, though I still moved much more slowly and made far too much noise. After the third time I stepped on a dry twig, which let out a very audible snap, Zecora sighed and muttered under her breath, “The Popobawa will surely know that we are coming; I don’t make that much noise when I’m drumming.” “Sorry,” I mumbled just a little testily. “I was just a little busy earning my knighthood and a doctorate, so I haven’t mastered woodcraft yet.” Zecora met my eyes, then offered a barely perceptible nod. “I suppose no pony can master every skill. I only hope it won’t send this mission downhill. If I might offer one piece of advice to make our journey a bit more nice...” She gestured with her staff, drawing my attention downwards so I could see how she used it to check the ground in front of her for roots, twigs, and other such obstacles. I quickly followed her example using the butt end of my spear. We traveled onward in relative silence for some time. Well, there wasn’t any talking, at least until Zecora glanced back at me. “Since the Popobawa will hear us coming from a mile away, we might as well pass the time with some conversation, okay?” I suppressed the urge to make a less than polite remark. “Alright then. Was there something you wanted to talk about?” She stared at me for a while longer, her muzzle crinkling in thought. “Why do you roam so far from your home? From the pony city of Canterlot to the jungles of Zebrica, where it’s hot. You could be sleeping the night away in a comfortable bed, but instead you’re on a journey that could end with you dead,—and all this for a zebra you met earlier today. It is a bit strange, wouldn’t you say?” “Strange?” I nearly tripped over a root. “What do you mean it’s strange?” “I do not understand why, my erstwhile ally,” she answered. “I am here because it is a shaman’s responsibility, but you owe Mwenye nothing but basic civility.” I thought that over for a moment. “It’s easy, really. I can help him.” “As could many others, but they are not here.” She pointedly looked around the empty forest. “Other than us, the coast is quite clear.” “Maybe, but that doesn’t change the fact that I can help.” I thought back to something Sir Solemus had told me shortly after I became a squire. “Being a knight isn’t about honor or glory or fame, it’s about helping others. That’s why I trained so hard for so many years: so I would be strong enough to be able to help. If I don’t do that now...” I shrugged. “Well, I suppose it would make all the time I spent becoming a knight a huge waste. I think anypony who has the power to help others should do so.” Zecora nodded slowly, a faint smile on her face. “Yes, the old creed of the nobility: with great power comes great responsibility.” She gave me a quick pat on the shoulder. “I am impressed you would go so far out of simple kindness. Truly, only a fool would call you spineless.” “Thank you.” I was glad it was late at night, because getting complimented always made me blush a bit. One of my favorite things about wearing a helmet was that it kept everyone from seeing my face. I’ve gotten a lot better about it over the years, but a part of me is still very shy and nervous around others. I normally didn’t wear it while I was taking care of medical issues since it made me look a bit too intimidating for a doctor, but I picked it up when I’d stopped by the armory to retrieve my spear. After another half hour or so of walking, Zecora silently signaled a halt. I could dimly make out a mound of rocks in the distance through the trees, and once I studied it a bit more closely, I saw the entrance to a cave. Zecora had mentioned that the Popobawa had a few bat-like characteristics, so I suppose it made sense that it would sleep in a cave. The shaman quietly whispered to me, “I cannot guarantee that the Popobawa will be there, but that is most certainly where it makes its lair.” “Okay.” I took a deep breath and readied myself. “If there’s anything else I need to know about this monster before we go in...” She frowned thoughtfully and adjusted the pouches on her saddlebag. “If you are ready to proceed, I suggest we go and do the deed. Hopefully the matter can be resolved with diplomacy, for in battle the Popobawa has significant potency. While not large or strong it has great speed, and if we fight it will make us bleed.” I nodded and stepped into the cave. It was very dark: what little moonlight made it through the trees barely trickled into the cave entrance. The cave stank of sulfur and bat guano, and I decided to hover rather than walk through it. I normally liked bats, but it would take hours to clean up my armor if I stepped into too many of their droppings. Zecora followed behind me on hoof, doing her best to avoid the droppings and growling something in her native tongue when she stepped in something that smelled rather awful. Once I was a bit further into the cave, I noticed a gentle red glow coming from further within, probably from a natural crystal formation. The light was too steady and even to be coming from a fire. “Um ... hello? Anyone home?” There was no answer, so I flew a bit deeper into the cave. Now I was completely out of the moonlight, with that dim red glow as the only source of illumination. I looked up and saw a red orb hanging from a stalactite. The Popobawa must have found an illumination gem somewhere. The cave itself was very shallow, and it only took a few minutes to check all the walls and tunnels. There was no sign of the Popobawa, so I had to assume it was out. I turned back to Zecora, who was busy scraping her hooves on a clear patch of the cave wall. “I don’t think it’s here. What should we do? Wait for it to come back? Though if it’s out it might be attacking Mwenye again...” I frowned, mulling the problem over. “But there’s no guarantee of that, and we probably couldn’t make it all the way back to his house in time to stop the monster. And if it comes back to its cave while we’re out looking for it then it might know we’ve been here, and then when we come back it will be ready for a fight.” “I would suggest that we wait here,” the shaman answered. “It’s entirely possible that the Popobawa is still near. And even if it hunts Mwenye this night I would not be alarmed, it will be some time before he is too seriously harmed. The beast enjoys drawing out its hunts, it would not go too far after only attacking once. It enjoys the taste of its victim’s fear, there is nothing else that can fill it with such cheer.” “So I guess that means we’re wai—” I abruptly stopped talking as the red light hanging over our heads vanished. It came back a second later, but very slowly, as if someone were opening a set of drapes. Or an eyelid. I looked up at that orb again, and the stalactite it was hanging from. This time I noticed that the orb had a narrow, slit pupil, and the bumps in the stalactite looked suspiciously like wings and claws. A moment later a mouth opened, revealing a maw full of sharp, needle-like teeth. Its deep voice had a thick Zebrican accent, and there was an odd rasping quality to it that probably came from being monster. “I was wondering how long it would take you to notice me.” The eye closed again, plunging the cavern into total darkness. I listened as carefully as I could, but there was nothing to tell me whether the Popobawa had moved, or where it might be now. I didn’t like being trapped in the dark with a monster, but I knew I couldn’t show my fear. The Popobawa was a predator, and acting like scared, vulnerable prey around it would be very dangerous. Instead, I spoke as confidently as I could. “We’re here about your attacks on the zebra known as Mwenye.” The voice came out of the darkness just a few feet behind me, and it took all my self-control not to jump in surprise. “Ah, yes, Mwenye. Mwenyeee...” The creature slowly drew out his name, and I saw its teeth gleaming in the light cast by its eye. “Three times he has denied me. It is my right to take offense at such a crime. He has marked himself as my prey, and I will not stop until I have my retribution.” “The knight and I say you must leave him alone,” Zecora snapped, her voice utterly uncompromising. “And for the harms you have done him, you must atone.” The eye closed, and moment later reappeared in front of Zecora. The fact that the Popobawa could move so swiftly and silently was rather worrying. “Oh I must, must I? Come now, shaman, you know the old codes. I have spared your village and all those who acknowledge me. Only those who offer the insult of denying my existence become prey, as it has been since the time of your grandfather’s grandfather. Mwenye must be taught the price of eschewing the old ways.” I scowled, unlimbering my spear. “I’m afraid that’s just not acceptable. I’m sure it hurt your feelings when Mwenye said you didn’t exist, but that doesn’t give you the right to attack him. Sometimes ponies say things that upset me, but I don’t stab them.” The monster let out a low chuckle, its eye turning to me. “You think I merely target him because I am offended? No. Is it the fault of the apple that you find it appealing, knight? That it is your prey? That is simply the nature of things, is it not? He refuses to provide me with the respect that tradition demands, and so he forfeits that protection. If you leave your home with the windows open and doors unbarred, you have only yourself to blame when a thief robs you. It is only proper that he be punished for such foolishness.” Zecora sighed and reluctantly nodded. “I have told Mwenye many times how he could ward the beast away, but when told to honor our old traditions, he always says neigh.” “And by doing so, he gives me the right to hunt him,” the Popobawa answered with a nasty, tooth-filled grin. “It is the law.” “No.” I scowled and brought my weapon to bear. “Maybe that was how things worked a long time ago, but Mwenye is a citizen of the Empire, and subject to its laws and protections now. You do not have the right to hurt him just because you don’t like his opinions. If you won’t stop, then I’m afraid I’ll have no choice but to make you stop.” “Oh is that so?” He showed me his teeth once more. “By all means, you are welcome to try.” The eye closed once more, and I heard a rush of wind before something slammed hard into my chest. The blow knocked me out of the air, and I slammed into one of the cavern walls and then fell to the floor. My armor protected me from the worst of it, but I was still going to have some very unpleasant bruises in the morning. The Popobawa’s eye appeared again, and I stabbed out at it with my spear. However, I still hadn’t picked myself up from the cavern floor, so my attack was weak and off-balance. It dodged the attack without even trying, letting out a low, malevolent chuckle. Then the eye winked out once more. A moment later Zecora’s voice rang out. “To you foul creature, I say hark! You cannot hide within the dark!” A second later there was a bright flash, and then a gentle green light filled the cavern. A quick glance at the cavern floor revealed that she’d scattered some sort of glowing powder. I got a brief glimpse of the Popobawa before it darted out of the circle of light Zecora had created. The creature had a build similar to that of a minotaur, though somewhat smaller and less muscular. It had a pair of bat-like wings instead of arms, and its feet ended in cruel three-toed talons. Its head had no visible nose, ears, or any other features beyond its single eye and toothy maw. The green light made its skin look dark brown-red, like dried blood. Zecora quickly helped me to my hooves. “My light will only last for a short while, and to fight the beast here would be a trial. I suggest we take this fight outside, where it will not be as easy to use the darkness to misguide.” “I think that sounds like a very good idea.” Even the limited amount of moonlight that made it through the trees would be much better than the complete darkness of the cave. “I don’t think it will let us leave, though.” The Popobawa’s teeth glinted in the darkness. “No, I’m afraid I won’t. And as you might have noticed, I’m quite a bit faster than you. You’re welcome to try escaping, though.” My first instinct was to put that boast to the test, but I wasn’t optimistic about our chances. Escape wasn't an option either—even if we split up, it would easily run at least one of us down. The Popobawa chuckled again, its glowing red eye hovering between us and the exit, just outside of the area illuminated by Zecora’s powder. “How much light can you make, shaman? How long will it last? Is it measured in hours or days? In either case, I assure you I can wait as long as I must. Far longer than either of you.” Zecora scowled and tossed out more of her powder. However, this time the monster was ready for her. It began flapping its wings the instant she made her move, creating a gust that sent the powder flying right back into our faces. The shaman muttered something in her native language. I didn’t know much Zebrican, but the few words I did understand were enough that I was glad I missed the rest of it. I stepped over to her side, murmuring quietly under my breath, “Do you have anything else that we can use against it? I could try to fight it, but as long as it’s staying in the dark it won’t be easy.” Zecora frowned and shook her head. “I’m afraid that to most poisons and potions it is immune; when facing a shaman, ‘tis quite a boon.” She tapped her chin, glancing down at one of her other pouches. “I do have ways to enhance my own might, but I only got the dosage for a zebra right. If you were to partake of one my potions it could end being more of a poison.” I suppose there was no helping that—I didn’t know too much about alchemy, but I knew enough about medicine to know that zebras and ponies have different reactions to some drugs. Those cases were rare since ponies and zebras were so similar, but I would rather not risk the five percent chance that one of Zecora’s potions might kill me. What we needed was some way to lure the monster into attacking. It was fast, but not so fast that I couldn’t compensate for that as long as I could see it coming. That kind of speed can actually be a bit of a disadvantage. Something that’s moving very fast has more momentum, so it might not be able to stop itself in time once it committed to an attack. Not to mention that it could still only think and perceive at the same speed as a pony. Maybe even less, since having only a single eye probably limited its range of vision and depth perception. “Cowards,” the popobawa hissed. “Hiding in your safe little circle of light. Maybe I should just leave you there. I wonder how many of the zebras back in the village I could kill before you caught up with me? Ten? Twenty? More? And there’s no way you could stop me. You’ll just stand there helplessly, being useless.” Those words made me flinch. To think that after all my training, everything I had gone through, I was still weak and helpless against this monster. No. I couldn’t accept that. There had to be a way to stop this creature. The only way it would win was if I gave up—which was exactly what it wanted me to do. The truth came to me in a flash of insight: Zecora told me that the Popobawa liked to draw things out with its victims because it enjoyed their fear. It didn’t want to run off into the village and start a massacre. It was just trying to frighten us. I planted my hooves and glared at the glowing eyeball. “I am not afraid of you. If anything, it’s you who’s afraid of us!” The eye blinked, and the beast chuckled. “Oh really? What a curious claim. Fear is the most delicious seasoning one can apply to meal, and yet you claim that I am afraid? And of a mere pony knight that I could tear apart without even trying?” “If you’re not afraid, then step into the light,” I challenged. “You call me a coward, but you’re the one who’s hiding in the dark. If you were really that much stronger than me, you wouldn’t be afraid to fight me fairly.” The Popobawa scoffed. “That’s not fear, it’s simply intelligence. You can’t see in the dark; I can. Why should I surrender an advantage?” His teeth gleamed out of the darkness. “I could just as easily say you are a coward for not fighting me in my chosen terrain. I’m rather disappointed by your ploy. Was demanding that I fight you fairly really the best you could do? You seem to be under the delusion that I’m an honorable knight like you. I, foolish pony, am a predator. And you are my prey.” Zecora downed one of her potions, then answered its smile with one of her own. “I think the strength of your taunt is somewhat blunted by how easily fortune turns hunter into the hunted. Overconfidence has been the downfall of more than one of your kind, your pride so easily renders you blind.” “Pride...” Something about that word reminded me of what had started this whole mess to begin with. Mwenye, who wouldn’t even admit that he was being attacked by the Popobawa because he was too proud to admit that it existed. And that gave me a rather devious idea. I met the creature’s single eye, and very slowly and deliberately declared, “Popobawas do not exist.” The creature let out a low, angry hiss. “What did you say?” I answered him with implacable calm. “I said that Popobawas do not exist.” It snarled, and I could hear its talons scraping along the cavern floor. “You dare?! I am standing right in front of you! How can you deny my existence?!” “It’s very dark, and all I can see is an eye and a vague blur.” I smirked at the monster. “And whatever you are, you’re obviously not a Popobawa. Because they don’t exist.” The Popobawa shrieked in anger and charged into the light, heading straight for me. I tried to put my spear in its path, but it was moving too fast. At the last moment, it hopped into the air, then its talons slammed down on my back. The attack drove me down to the cavern floor and drove the breath from my lungs. Rather than take advantage of my moment of weakness, the creature remained perched on top of me, posing dramatically. “Deny me now, foolish little pony!” it crowed. “Take those words back, or you will die screaming!” I might have denied its existence one more time, but it proved to be a moot issue. The monster was so enraged by my taunt that it had completely forgotten that I wasn’t alone. Zecora brought her staff down on one of its wings, swinging her weapon with incredible speed. There was an audible snap as the blow landed, and the Popobawa’s wing dropped, hanging limply from its side. Unlike the monster, I did not waste my opponent’s moment of weakness by gloating. Instead I quickly drew my dagger and stabbed the monster in the belly. The creature let out a high-pitched keening wail, staggering off of my back and flopping weakly to the cavern floor. While the Popobawa flopped about weakly, Zecora helped me back to my hooves. After taking a moment to check my injuries, I recovered my spear, then moved to put the monster out of its misery. However, it did something I hadn’t been expecting. “Mercy!” The Popobawa pressed its forehead to the cavern floor in supplication. “I am beaten. Spare me, oh great one, and I promise I will never harm another living being for the rest of my life. I swear it!” I stayed my hoof, though I still kept my weapon at the ready. The Popobawa would not be the first enemy to try to turn a battle in its favor by offering a false surrender. However, I couldn’t murder it on mere suspicion. “I accept your surrender. Zecora, do you have anything we can use to tie it up? I hope the local jail can hold it until we can arrange for a trial.” The shaman frowned and shook her head. “The Popobawa is not a beast that can be jailed, as every attempt to do so has failed.” She hefted her staff and gave it a few practice swings. “The only solution is to leave its body to rot; I will take care of that if you cannot.” The Popobawa whined pitifully, covering its head with its only working wing. “Please! I surrendered! Spare me! Have you no honor?” “Zecora, no.” I reluctantly shifted to place myself between her and the monster. “I know it’s probably just lying to try and attack us while our guard is down, but if there’s even the slightest chance that this is genuine, we have to allow it the opportunity. I’ll need your help to stop the bleeding.” She frowned at me. “A minute ago this creature would have gladly seen you dead, yet now you are concerned for the blood it has bled?” “Showing compassion, even to your enemies, is one of the most important qualities of a knight.” I stared down at the wounded, groveling creature. “I know that if the situation were reversed it wouldn’t offer me mercy, but that doesn’t excuse me from doing the same thing. I am a knight, I’m supposed to be better than the monsters I fight.” I blinked, then shot a faint smile at my companion. “Now you have me rhyming too.” She smiled in return. “It is a known hazard for a layman when they spend too much time with a shaman.” The good mood didn’t last, though. “This creature will betray you at the first opportunity; a Popobawa will break its word with impunity.” “Maybe, but I have to give it a chance.” I frowned down at the monster. “Zecora, I’ll need more light to work with if I want to properly bandage up that knife wound. Do you mind?” The shaman sighed, but dutifully spread some more of her light powder. I was glad I had thought to bring my own first aid kit, because I was fairly sure she would refuse to lend me any of her own medical supplies to treat the monster’s wounds. Removing my dagger from the creature’s belly was unpleasant. Treating an injury I had caused always upset me. Sir Solemus said that was a good thing; being aware of how much damage I could cause to my enemies would make me properly appreciate the responsibility that came with being a knight. The weight of the decision I made whenever I chose to draw my weapons. After removing the dagger, I quickly applied a salve to slow the bleeding, then put a simple pressure wrap over the wound. Far from perfect, but it would at least keep the monster from bleeding to death. I could properly treat its injuries once we had it in custody and under guard. I didn’t know much about Popobawa biology, but I should at least be able to keep it stable until a specialist from the Long Patrol arrived. Whoever the Patrol sent would have to decide on the monster’s final disposition. Once I was done treating its injuries, I slowly backed away, keeping my eyes on it the entire time. It remained in place, its one working wing cradled over its wounded stomach, while the damaged wing hung from a simple sling I’d improvised from my medical supplies. Once I was fifteen feet away from it, I turned my back on the Popobawa to retrieve my fallen spear. That was when the monster made its move, charging my unprotected back. Even with a damaged wing and a stomach wound, the Popobawa was much faster than me. However, it needed to cross fifteen feet of cavern floor to reach me with its talons. All I needed to do was finish lifting my spear. By the time the Popobawa realized the danger, it was already too late. Its own momentum doomed it, and the monster impaled itself. Despite having the tip of my spear through its chest, the Popobawa was still alive. Its one working wing twitched weakly in a vain effort to free itself. I turned around and faced it once more, sighing. “I would have spared you if you allowed it, but now I’m afraid now there’s only one last mercy I can offer you.” A quick thrust of my dagger put the monster to rest. “May the blessed light of the sun guide your soul to a peace it never knew in life.” Once that was done, I took a few minutes to give the Popobawa a quick cremation. It may have been a murderous, treacherous monster, but it still deserved that much. Zecora watched me prepare the cairn with a bemused smile. “Even after it betrayed you, you still treat it with honor. Though I hope it never comes to pass, I fear that one day your kindness will prove to be your undoing.” I thought that over for a moment, then slowly nodded. “Perhaps it will, but I think I’d rather be too compassionate than the alternative.” A mournful smile crossed my face. “Besides, just because I believe in letting every monster have a second chance doesn’t mean I have to trust them blindly. I’m kind, not stupid.” She chuckled and dipped her head, acknowledging my point. “Still, I am glad I had the chance to work alongside one of the Knights of Sol Invictus. You are not what I expected, but I think that perhaps that is a good thing.” “Thank you.” I paused, cocking my head to the side. “Why did you stop rhyming?” She sighed and tiredly gestured towards the Popobawa’s cairn. “The hour is late, and I am weary from our fight. This has been a long and difficult night.” “Yes, it has.” I quickly cleaned my weapons. “Thank you for helping me, I couldn’t have done this without you. If I have time before I have to leave Zanzebra, I would really like to have tea with you again. I would love to learn a bit more about zebra herbalism—I’ve heard you can make some incredible medicines. I’m sure there’s so much we could learn from each other.” “I do know many things, it is true. And I would be glad to share them with you.” She grinned and winked at me. “But not the secret of rhyming, I’m afraid. That must remain the shaman’s secret trade.” I smiled and chuckled tiredly. “I suppose I can live with that. I wouldn’t want to spoil our friendly chat.” I paused, putting a hoof to my lips. “Oh my, now you have me doing it again.” I returned to the Order’s chapter house, looking forward to a thorough bath and a good night’s rest. Unfortunately, those plans fell apart shortly after I entered the building. One of the young pages galloped to my side as soon as I stepped through the door. “Dame Fluttershy, Palatine Weaver has been looking for you.” “Oh dear, I’ll go see her at once.” Palatine Weaver was the commander of the outpost, and if she wanted to talk to me it must be something important, especially this late at night. I quickly trotted up to the palatine’s office, quite aware of the fact that my armor hadn’t been cleaned from my venture into the Popobawa’s lair. When I stepped into his office, Palatine Weaver directed a rather pointed look at the blood and bat droppings adorning my platemail. “I presume your monster hunt was successful, but your timing could have been better. We received a messenger from the capital half an hour after you left.” He waved towards the next room. “She’s waiting for you in there.” I stepped into the next room and gasped in surprise when I saw who it was. It might have been years since we’d seen each other, but I would never forget that lavender coat, the blond mane, and those mischievous purple eyes. “Cloud? Is that you?” Cloud Solaris, one of my oldest fillyhood friends, rose from her seat, grinning. “Hey, ‘Shy! It’s been way too long.” Her eyes flicked over my messy armor, which made me feel even worse when I contrasted it against her own immaculate Phoenix Guard armor. “I hope you’ll understand if I don’t give you a hug right now.” “That’s quite alright.” I looked her over again, taking note of the rank pips on her shoulder. “So you’re a major now? And in the Empress’s bodyguard unit? That’s wonderful!” She answered with a gently teasing smile. “Yeah, I get to spend all day protecting a pony who could kill me with all four hooves tied behind her back.” She paused, then cleared her throat. “Well, that and I get sent out on errands, which is why I’m here. Business first, we’ll have plenty of time to catch up later.” She reached into her bright red armor and produced a letter, opening it up and taking a deep breath. When she spoke, there was a stilted formality to her voice. “Dame Fluttershy, Knight Hospitaller of the Order of Sol Invictus: Her Imperial Majesty Sunbeam Sparkle, Great Mother of all Races, Beloved Unifier of the World, Valiant Protector of the Empire...” Cloud waved her hoof, passing over the rest of her titles. “...cordially invites you to attend her at the 834th Feast of Remembrance and join her at her table.” I gasped in shock. The Feast of Remembrance was one of the most important events in the year. It held special significance to all members of my order since it commemorated the passing of Old Queen Celestia, the spiritual icon of our order. It was one of the most exclusive, prestigious parts of the Summer Sun Celebration. Having dinner with the Empress was one of the highest honors a pony could receive. I had no idea what I’d done to earn such a reward. A second later a thrill of nervous panic settled into the pit of my stomach. “Oh my. Oh my goodness. Oh dear. That’s such an important event! What if I say something that offends the Empress? Or if I ... if I ... I don’t even have anything to wear other than my armor!” Cloud chuckled and draped a reassuring wing over my back, ignoring the messy state of my armor. “Oh Fluttershy. Never change.”