The Book of Water: The Heart of Winter

by TalonMach5

Chapter 10: A Promise, One Fulfilled and One Forgotten, One Betrayed, Another Begotten

Sipping the soup from his spoon, he enjoyed the light savory flavor of salmon on his tongue. The broth held a salty aftertaste, a reminder of the fishes’ origin. Enjoying his dinner, he looked out through a nearby window and saw the pink tint of the eastern horizon, and considered that given the lateness of the hour, this might as well be considered his breakfast.

Taking another spoonful of soup in his beak, he remembered another breakfast he’d had not too long ago, and the feather he’d shared it with. Licking his beak’s edge, he tasted the salty residue of the broth wetting it, and was reminded of her. He wondered if she’d given him any further thought since he and his mother had left the Diamond Vale, or if her duties had driven any further thoughts of him from her mind.

Spearing a small piece of meat from his plate, he looked at its pink and tender flesh before placing it in his mouth. Slowly chewing it, he tasted the sweet and savory herbs that had seasoned his meal. Although he’d enjoyed his adventures in the south, it had been quite some time since he’d last tasted griffin cuisine. It wasn’t until now as he was enjoying a proper griffin meal, that he realized how much he’d missed his home and people.

Looking across the table at his mother, he rested his warm brown eyes on her, and offered her a heartfelt smile. Truly it was good to be home once more, here in the Golden Eyrie, atop the craggy peaks of Darkpaw’s Spine in the heart of the Domain of Air. When he saw her tired eyes and weary face, he felt a touch of guilt. How many sleepless nights had he put her through when he’d left her in anger?

When he’d left her, it had been with a flurry of harsh words and ruffled feathers. He could still remember her stern anger towards him when he’d told her of his decision to leave home. She’d shouted, begged, and pleaded with him in vain to reconsider his rash choice. But her words had fallen upon deaf ears, his stubborn pride had demanded that he leave the safety of the nest. He’d felt that he was ready to claim his birthright, and in his naivety he’d thought that his father would agree with his assessment.

He was wrong. In the end, the absentee father that he’d so desperately wanted to be a part of his family for his entire life had rejected him without a second thought. But his journey hadn’t been for naught. Although he’d failed to claim the father he’d so longed for, he’d discovered family that he’d had no idea existed. Three half-sisters to be precise. Melody, a featherfolk harper with a penchant for mischief, warm hugs, and a teasing smile. Harmony, the Slave King’s court magister, who’s seemingly outwardly cold and distant persona was off-putting, but when it mattered the most, had shown how fiercely she loved her sisters.

Then there was Aria. When he’d first met the fiery plumed featherfolk girl, she’d started a fight with him, trying her damnedest to run him through with the arcanum long knife she always kept at her side. They had sparred together, she and him, alongside the seapony maid who’d caught his interest. It had been fierce fight, and even though they had her outnumbered, she seemed to have them outmatched. Fighting with a skill and mastery he’d seen few possess, she’d alit her long knife with a magical flame that revealed the heritage she’d surely inherited from her mother. While her fighting skills with her favored weapon and martial form, showed she was as much a daughter or the earth, as he was its son.

Before he’d abandoned his mother to sneak down to the South, he’d always considered himself a skilled warrior. Over the years, he’d had the advantage of training with many of the master of arms and the most skilled warriors of all the griffin clans. They had taught him all the proud martial traditions and fighting styles of their people. So when they briefly fought, he’d been sorely unprepared for her onslaught. If not for Dame Squall’s timely intervention and magical improvisation, he doubted whether or not the crude club he’d managed to grab would have provided him with much if any defense.

Thankfully, Aria had believed her sister’s explanation that he was actually their half-brother, and instead of running him through with her long knife, had taken his talon, albeit grudgingly, in kinship. Having seen the fierce determination in her golden eyes, he recognized the familiar hunger he knew only too well, a burning desire to prove herself worthy of their father’s admiration.

Their father, now that was a somewhat sore spot for him. His heart still stung from the outright rejection he’d received at his talons. He remembered what Melody had told him about their father when she’d revealed to him that they were siblings. He treats us as his servants, not his children, she’d said. He was unsure if he could have suffered through the constant cold indifference their father had undoubtedly offered Aria and the others. How had they managed to endure it as long as they had?

“Mother,” Dawson said, putting down his spoon and looking to the one feather he knew might have the answer.

“Yes?” Lady Zephyr replied, giving her son a warm smile, happy they were able to enjoy a peaceful meal together once more, after so many meals spent apart.

“Why does the Slave King…” he began, before stopping himself midsentence. He found that asking her the question was more difficult than he had anticipated.

“Yes, Dawson?” she replied, offering him a look of concern when she heard the reticence in his tone. “What is it?”

He looked away from her for a moment, before returning his attention to his soup. Picking up his spoon, he chased the half eaten salmon fillet around the edge of his bowl. He didn’t expect that he would like his mother’s answer, but if ever wanted closure regarding his father he needed to know the truth.

“Mother, why does the Slave King want nothing to do with me?” he asked, losing any desire to finish his meal as an overwhelming feeling of apprehension formed in the pit of stomach. “I know he claims he has no children, but I’ve seen and heard how he spoke to Melody.”

Waiting for her answer, he looked into her sky blue eyes. Intellectually he knew that the answer more likely had to do with his mother’s history with the Slave King rather than because of himself, but part of him still feared that the reasons for his father’s curt dismissal of him might lay in a personal dislike that he might have towards him.

“Dawson, I’m so sorry, my chick…” Lady Zephyr said, displaying the sorrow and remorse she felt on her beak as she walked around the table to sit beside him. “Hoping to win his heart, I broke your father’s trust.”

Feeling relief that his father didn’t personally dislike him, he gently placed his talon on her shoulder. Offering her a sympathetic smile, he lowered his beak and placed a kiss upon his mother’s forehead. “What happened, mother?” he asked, hoping that she felt that he was finally ready to learn the truth.

“Dawson, we had you,” she tenderly said, drawing him close with her wing.

“What do you mean, mother? That you had me?” he asked, wondering how his conception might have drove his parents apart.

“Placing her talons against his beak, she looked up at her son and smiled. “Dawson, you look so much like him sometimes,” she wistfully said, waxing slightly sentimental for a moment.

Seeing his mother getting all misty eyed about his father and her former lover, made him feel slightly uncomfortable. “Mother, please tell me what happened between you two,” he implored, wishing he knew the truth in its entirety.

“It’s as I said,” she explained, gingerly stroking his back with her talon. “We had you, and your father didn’t take the news very well.”

“But why? What about Lady Suzaku and the feathered folk tribe then?” Dawson countered, unable to understand why his mother had had a different outcome then the Lady of Summer. “The Slave King didn’t seem to have any issues making all the other beast folk tribes.”

“Dawson, I was overcome with joy when your father and I had finally managed to conceive you together,” Lady Zephyr said, hoping the truth wouldn’t cut him too deeply. “However the Slave King didn’t share my sentiments, and dismissed me from his presence. I can only assume Suzaku neglected to advise him of their children until much later.”

“But why?” Dawson asked, hoping his mother could answer the reason for his father’s staunch refusal to acknowledge let alone love him. “All the old stories and tales speak of the pantheon’s celebration of each of their creations.”

“In my impatience at your father’s reluctance to return my feelings, I was dishonest and mislead him,” she answered, thinking back to that fateful night so many years ago with mixed feelings of longing and regret. “Suzaku. She told me that she had shared one of the Pantheon’s most sacred hymns with the Slave King, that of creation.”

Holding her son tightly against her breast with her wing, she lightly preened the feathers along his neck for a moment before continuing. “However, she also neglected to tell the Slave King about the potent magic that the Song of Creation holds in its singing,” she explained, wishing that she had better prepared her former lover for the inevitable fruit of their union. “I thought that by showing him the pinnacle of a deity’s ultimate power and purpose, and he’d finally return the love I’d held for him for so long.”

The memory of what had happened betwixt them began clawing at her heart, as her cheeks became wet with tears of regret. “Dawson,” she said, holding him tightly against her as she searched for the strength to continue her story. “When I first felt you within me, I was overjoyed at the new life your father and I had made together, and wanted to share my happiness with him. But instead of being happy at the prospects of becoming the patriarch of a new tribe like I thought he would, he was overcome with fury. Accusing me of betraying him, he cast me out from his domain and refused to have anything more to do with me.”

Seeing how distraught his mother was at recounting her story, he returned her embrace, letting her know how much he loved her. He thought back to the hurt he carried thanks to his father’s rejection, and sympathized with her. He wondered if either of them would ever truly find closure for themselves, or would the Slave King’s repudiation of them continue to haunt them into the foreseeable future. Deciding that he wanted to return to happier things, he decided to ask his mother what she and the council had decided to do regarding the petition from the griffin Cornelius, who he’d helped liberate from a decade of slavery.

“Mother,” Dawson asked, looking into her shining blue eyes as he gave her a loving squeeze. “So what have you and the council decided to do about the ongoing slavery within our borders?”

Wiping her reddened eyes with her napkin, Lady Zephyr laid her head against her son’s shoulder. Placing her talon on his, she looked up at him and smiled as a motherly pride for her son filled her breast. He had seen their shackled kinsfeather languishing in despair in some horrid slaver’s wagon, and had immediately leapt to action. Reflecting back on how her councilors had responded to her insistence that something be done about the continual chicknapping within her borders, she only wished they possessed a feather’s worth of the same righteous indignation and wisdom that her son had held when he’d seen such an injustice.

True, some of her councilors had pressed that she clamor for war or bits instead of reconciliation. But right now a war was scarcely something her impoverished nation could afford, and demanding bits in reparation for chicknapped griffins would only lend legitimacy to the rampant enslavement of her people. Her decision to sue the Slave King and the others was the only sensible alternative, to either a costly war or accepting a pittance for all those who’d been stolen away against their wills into bondage in the South.

Looking up at her son, she placed her talon on his shoulder. “Dawson,” she said, turning towards one of the murals adoring the wall depicting her domain. “We have decided that your father has much to answer for.”

“But, mother…” he said, before being silenced as she raised one of her talons.

“Not only does the Slave King have much to answer for,” she continued, running her talon through her son’s plumage. “But so too does Lord Triton and Princess Celestia. The blame for the enslavement of our people lay partially at their paws as well.”

“Are we going to go to war against all of them then?” Dawson asked, slightly worried they might not have the numbers required to succeed against so many. “Do we have the strength to fight all of their domains and armies simultaneously?”

“No, Dawson,” Lady Zephyr replied, gladdened that her son wasn’t flexing his talons to go to war as some of her more bloodthirsty subjects like General Ansgar had been. “We will bring a writ of formal complaint before the Pantheon, and sue them to receive our long overdue justice.”

“But, mother,” Dawson objected, unable to fathom how suing their domains could resolve the issue of the ongoing enslavement of his fellow griffins. “Surely Lord Triton has many seaponies in his employ well versed in the intricacies of the law, and Princess Celestia will surely have just as many lawyers at her disposal as the Lawgiver does.”

“Yes, Dawson,” she replied, nodding in agreement with his assessment.

“Than what hope do we have to ensure that Cornelius and anyfeather else suffering under my father’s brand will have in receiving any amount of justice?” he said, wishing he could do more.

“We will look to our allies in the west,” she said, pointing towards a ziggurat depicted in sapphires on the mural behind them.

“Do you think Lord Raiden will help us?” Dawson asked, knowing full well how the Lord of Autumn prided himself in his impartiality regarding the affairs of the other domains.

“If not, his sages might prove more agreeable,” Lady Zephyr said, returning to her seat. “Some of the greatest intellects alive live within his Ziggurat of Knowledge, the opportunity to match wits with some of the greatest masters of the law will be a temptation nearly impossible for them to resist.”

As he heard his mother speak, he felt a stirring in his heart similar to the one he’d previously heeded when he abandoned her and their home to embark on adventure. But this time it wasn’t for selfish reasons. He wanted to help his mother, their people, and all the others who’d been stolen away like Cornelius. He knew there was little he could offer in the realm of diplomacy to aid her, but still he wanted to do something for their cause.

Even though they’d only just been reunited after having been separated for so long, as Lady Zephyr’s son he felt this was something he could do, something he should do, something he needed to do. “Mother,” he said, placing his talons in his lap. “I know I’m grounded into the foreseeable future. But I think it should be me who asks Lord Raiden and his sages for help.”

“No, Dawson…” Lady Zephyr said, shaking her head and feeling unwilling to let her son out of the nest so soon. “It’s too dangerous out there in the Hinterlands of Autumn to travel alone all by yourself.”

Pulling out the small black coin bearing the Slave King’s image he’d received from Melody, he placed it on the table. “What slaver would dare harm the one carrying this?” he replied, sliding the coin across the table towards her.

Picking up the coin, she held it in her talons and felt her former lover’s power and magical essence emanating from within it. Dawson was right, only the foolhardy would dare touch somefeather who possessed such an artifact. Even if they ignored the coin and tried chicknapping her son anyway, the power of the coin was such that the Slave King would know almost immediately that somefeather had broken his laws and ignored the protection the coin offered its bearer.

Even though he would be protected from slaver predation, there was still the matter of the griffin bandits living out in the wilds who refused to be bound by any of the rules of their clan, polite griffin society, or even their civilization. They were barbarians, scarcely better than wild beasts in their behavior towards even their fellow griffins. She considered them a throwback to an earlier age when such behavior was still tolerated and even encouraged by her to some degree from the shadows. Back when she felt that the freedom to soar where you wish, unrestrained by any others was all that mattered.

But that was then and this was now, she considered all those who still followed the old ways without regard for others a menace, and one of her greatest follies. Eventually she had realized that alone, even the mightiest griffin was weak. However, when they banded together under a common purpose and banner, even the weakest of their number became stronger than the greatest of their foes.

It had been Celestia that had first shown her the benefits of harmony, and it was then that she had forbade her griffins from preying any further on the ponies in gratitude. Even though her people had bitterly complained about this new restriction to their freedom, it was the beginning of the long lasting friendship between their two peoples that had lasted until this day. But some had resisted against her new edicts, saying it went against the natural order. Furious at their obstinate rebellion and refusal to follow their goddess’s wishes, she cast them down from the mountain nests of their ancestors, and forbade them from ever returning until they’d repented for their misdeeds.

Even though most of them had eventually returned to the flock after begging for forgiveness from the Maelstrom, a select few held out and stubbornly refused to swallow their griffionic pride. Today most of those who traced their lineage from those blackguards and traitors and any deemed too wild or disloyal for proper griffin society eked out a living in the wild and untamed valleys of her domain and even further afield, the Hinterlands of Autumn and frozen tundra and taiga of Winter included.

“While you might be protected from your father’s minions,” Lady Zephyr pointed out, as she returned the coin to her son. “The wildlings and bandits prowling the hinterlands are another story altogether.”

“Mother, I’m not a chick anymore,” Dawson protested, placing the coin back in his pocket. “I can look after myself.”

“But you’re still my son,” she countered, standing up and looking directly at him. “You’re not leaving, and that’s final.”

Seeing the look of disappointment on his face, her heart went out to him. But didn’t Dawson understand that he was her little chick, and should anything untoward happen to him she didn’t know what she might do.

Sighing in disappointment, Dawson wiped his beak, pushed out his chair, and rose from the table. “I’m going to bed now,” he quietly said, turning away so that he could hide his disappointment from her. “Good night, mother.”

Reaching out a talon towards him, she slowly lowered it before answering. “Good night, Dawson, I love you,” she said, hoping that her son would understand why she didn’t want him to go.

Concealed from view, a lone griffin smiled to himself. Deciding that he’d heard enough, Councilor Johan ceased his eavesdropping, and rubbed his talons together in anticipation at the windfall that had just fallen into his lap. Now all that he needed to do was set things into motion, and he would end two problems with one decisive stroke. No longer worried for his future, he hummed an ominous melody to himself as he set off to begin the preparations of his latest scheme.

“Ignatius, I still think that you’re being overly cautious,” the dragoness said in between hearty bites of the salad she was consuming, which mainly consisted of a healthy mix of rubies, emeralds, shaved platinum, and gold.

She didn’t normally splurge on such decadent fare, but when somescale else was footing the bill she couldn’t help herself. She looked across the table at her date, and offered him a sultry grin. Although they might be considered siblings, their tribe’s numbers were so few that any objections of possible incest were a moot point. She supposed that the normally straight laced forge master might bristle at the idea of any romantic entanglements between them.

He’d probably grumble about the inappropriateness of dating a subordinate, she thought to herself, as she wondered if he held passion for anything other than his work beneath that scaly red hide of his.

“Sapphire,” Ignatius replied, draining the spoonful of gold and silver dust suspended in an iron broth that he’d been eating. “It doesn’t matter if you think I’m being overly cautious, the last time I checked, it was I and not you, who was appointed by the Slave King to be his forge master.”

When she heard him reject her objections out of claw, her scales and spines bristled with righteous indignation. How dare he! she fumed, annoyed by how blasé he’d dismissed what she rightfully considered to be an expert opinion.

Truthfully, she could see the virtue in his insistence that they continue along the previously established tried and true conservative manufacturing techniques that the Slave King’s manufactorium had ran under for as long as she could remember. However, now that they were entering a completely new and unfamiliar phase of development, there was a rare and unprecedented opportunity to consider all new processes for the next manufacturing phase of the Devastation.

She could see in her mind’s eye all of the wonderful opportunities that would present themselves, if only she was allowed to experiment with their admittedly limited store of crystals and arcanum which had been consigned to their forge for the purpose of constructing the Devastation. She imagined how pleased the Slave King would be if she managed to develop a new refining process to turn raw arcanum ore into an even stronger and more potent magically resistant form of arcanum steel.

Truly, such a feat would cement her tribe’s position above all the other beast folk, and perhaps then the Slave King would do more than silently hint to Ignatius that he needed to attend to their tribe’s long term prosperity. Although she held no animosity towards the other beast folk tribes, their tribe’s members were few, and their numbers weren’t showing and signs of increasing anytime soon. With the other two drakes taking their cues from their much respected forge master brother, she was certain unless something changed, their tribe was fated for oblivion.

“But, Ignatius,” she replied, hoping to appeal to his love of tinkering. “Imagine all the new techniques and alloys we could discover, if we simply explored arcanum’s full potential!”

When he heard her argument, he laid his spoon down beside his half emptied bowl. Looking into her blue eyes, he saw them shining with ambition. Whether it was an eagerness to prove herself his equal, or for something else, he couldn’t tell. But they held the same hunger and anticipation of the looks that many of the bitches, mares, and even some of the more amorous female beast folk of the Slave King’s court sometimes gave their great lord.

Wetting his drying lips with his tongue, he ran it over his teeth as he picked up the silver tankard that held his ale. Looking into its amber depths, he saw a dark reflection of himself staring back at him. What a stark contrast his reflection was, to that of his ardent companion. She held the same passion for their work that he did, but wanted to achieve more than their conservatively proscribed rules and regulations would normally allow. It was something that he found sorely tempting, but as the forge master he wasn’t free to indulge in every half-baked theory and ill-conceived idea that passed through his mind.

“Sapphire,” he said, speaking in an even tone as he tapped a claw rhythmically against the wooden surface of their well-worn tavern table. “When you think of the Neo Vale, what’s the first thing that comes to mind?”

Looking into Ignatius’s crimson eyes, she considered her response. In truth she’d never given the capital much thought. Beyond the tiny corner of the great city she and the rest of her dragon-half kin inhabited, she’d never bothered spending much time exploring it. Besides the never ending construction, wide streets, half-finished buildings, and enormous throngs of citizens of slaves, she couldn’t determine what he was getting at. Reflecting on the unceasing construction, and all the continual improvements that were being made to the city, she reached what she considered was a good answer

Folding her claws together, she rested them on the table, and looked out a nearby window to the city. “Ignatius,” she said, offering him a sly smile as she glanced back at him before returning her gaze to the city. “I see a chance to grab the golden hammer that’s waiting for somescale to grab a hold of, an opportunity to prove ourselves worthy of the legacy our parents have bequeathed us.”

“I see progress,” she continued, reaching out her claw across the table towards his. “A future with boundless opportunities, for those wise enough to recognize them for what they are, especially when they lie just beneath their muzzles.”

Drawing back from her outstretched claw, the forge master considered her words as he sipped his tankard’s bitter contents. Wiping away the foam on his chin with the back of his hand, he sat back in his chair, folded his claws together in front of him, and gave her a dispassionate look.

“Where you see progress, I only see an incremental progression to the present that took the Domain of Earth centuries to achieve,” he said, allowing the bassy timbre of his voice to rumble from within his chest. “Where you see opportunity, I only see the fallout that would inevitably come should you fail.”

“You speak of our parent’s legacy,” Ignatius continued, taking a deep swig from his half empty tankard. “But the Slave King doesn’t consider us his kin, and I doubt the Fire Tyrant considers us his whelps either.”

“But Princess Luna said…” Sapphire tried interjecting, before Ignatius raised his claw to silence her.

“I’m sure she means well,” he replied, thinking back to the goddess who claimed she wished to be their mother. “But when have any member of the Pantheon ever had any real interest in the welfare of the beastfolk tribes?”

Hearing his objections, she gave Ignatius a bemused smirk, before looking back out the window towards the city. “What about Dawson, Ignatius?” she replied, sliding her chair towards his.

Remembering the prior week’s events at Bone’s Landing, made him feel somewhat nostalgic. He’d allowed Melody to talk him into giving away a veritable fortune in weapons and gear to the griffin-half for a mere pittance.

Seeing the slight smile on his muzzle, brought one to her own. “When she heard about the whereabouts of her missing son, Lady Zephyr rushed to his side like a whirlwind,” Sapphire said, pointing out the motherly love the Lady of Air held for her child.

Hearing her response to his objection, brought a touch of sadness to his heart. He remembered how the Maelstrom had looked at Dawson as he competed in disguise at the Bone’s Landing tournament and sorely wished he could’ve known such concern for himself.

Looking into his red eyes, and seeing the unfulfilled longing of his heart, she reached out her claw and lightly placed it atop his. “And then there’s the feathered folk,” she continued, moving closer to him until she was at his side. “It’s impossible to deny the affection Lady Suzaku holds for her children, especially Aria, Melody, and Harmony.”

Ah, the feathered folk, the beautiful and fair whelps sired between the Slave King and the Lady of Summer. There was no denying the love she held for them, Melody and her sisters especially. Thinking of his elder sister and her affectionate ways brought a warmth to his heart that burned hotter than even his internal fire. His Melly. She was the one that had helped raise him from a whelp no taller than her knee, until he towered over her. Although he stood head and shoulders above her, all it took was the promise of hugs to make him putty in her claws.

“Melody…” he murmured, reminiscing over the care and love his half-sister held for him.

“Ignatius, I’m sure if you just gave her a chance, mother would care as much about you as Melody does,” Sapphire said leaning against him, and basking in the heat that the memories of Melody were burning within him.

Looking down at the dragoness resting against him so intimately, he bit his lower lip and relished in the slight pain that was chasing away these unwelcome feelings that she was dredging up within him. Looking into her crystal blue eyes and looking beyond the flirtatious hunger they always seemed to hold for him, he saw the same vulnerable loneliness that he was all too familiar with. A loneliness that all the hugs from Melody would never quite chase away.

Sensing the time was right, she gave his claw a gentle squeeze as she looked up at him in earnest. “Ignatius, will you give me… her a chance,” she stumbled, silently cursing herself for tripping over her words. “It would mean all the world to me, er… I mean to mother if you would accept.”

Sighing lightly to himself, he looked down at his claw. She was resting hers on his, and he could feel the warmth of her scales against his. It was unfamiliar and alien, yet not an altogether unwelcome sensation. In all his years, he’d never quite known such feminine intimacy before, and was beginning to feel somewhat conflicted. He always thought there would be time enough for such frivolous things later. But later had never come before, and now he was feeling caught.

Removing his claw from beneath hers, he moved slightly away from the dragoness, as he returned to his ale. “Alright, Sapphire,” he said, resigning himself to her desires. “Well move ahead with your proposed ideas.”

“Really?” she asked, sitting up straight with surprise, as any desires she held for the forge master were forgotten, albeit for the moment.

“Yes, really,” he replied, slightly amused by her enthusiasm. “We’d have to do some prototyping anyways before we could begin construction of the Devastation’s mind anyway. You have some unique ideas regarding its construction, and I would remiss if I simply dismissed them out of claw just because they were overly ambitious.”

“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you,” she gushed with excitement. Losing any fear of embarrassment she tightly embraced him as she whispered, “thank you for this opportunity, Ignatius.”

“You’re welcome, Sapphire… I guess,” he stammered, as his cheeks flushed when he felt her soft curves pressing against him. “But do you think you could let go of me now?”

“Oh!” she yelped, flustered and rattled by her forward behavior towards him. Quickly releasing him from her grasp, she tittered with embarrassment. “Sorry, Ignatius, but I was just so excited.”

Trying to hide his flushed cheeks and own embarrassment, he buried his muzzle into his nearly empty tankard, and polished off the remainder of his booze. “Well, if that’s how excited you feel about me agreeing to try out your ideas,” he nonchalantly said, while warily eyeing the dragoness. “I’d hate to see what you do when I told you I was planning on placing you in charge of the prototyping process.”

When she heard the news, she had to hold herself back from planting a deep kiss right on his scaly muzzle. “Oh, this is more than I could have ever hoped for,” she replied in gratitude. Thankful that she finally had an opportunity to shine.

“Don’t thank me, Sapphire,” Ignatius said, putting down his tankard beside his unfinished soup, which he was sure was quite cold by now. “If you must thank somescale, thank our mother, she seemed rather keen on seeing what you’re capable of.”

“I promise you, Ignatius, I won’t let you down,” she said with an earnestness he’d not heard her utter before.

“Good, Sapphire. I’ll be holding you to that,” he said, eyeing the remains of their meal. “So tell me again about this newfangled manufacturing process you want to try.”

Looking down at dishes in front of them, she snapped her claws to get the attention of the help so they could settle their bill. “Ignatius, I think this is hardly the place to continue our discussion,” she said, giving him a flirty look as she gestured towards the various plates, bowls, and tankards before them with her claws. “Perhaps we could move our meeting to someplace more conducive to the subject at hand.”

“Where would you like to go?” he asked, wondering what she had in mind.

“Maybe your place?” she asked, giving him slight smile.

“My place…” he murmured, disappointed that she’d returned to flirting with him, rather than taking the new responsibility he’d just given to her with the seriousness he felt it deserved. “Why not yours?”

“Mine? Don’t be silly, Ignatius,” she said, releasing a slight laugh. “I don’t have a workshop or own quite nearly as many tools as you do.”

Feeling relieved that Sapphire had no further intentions towards him this night, he let out a relieved chuckle. “Yes, I don’t know what I was thinking,” he agreed, getting up from the table, and leaving behind a small stack of bits that bore the Slave King’s image.

“That is unless you were wanting to discuss something of a more intimate nature with me?” she teased, leaving the question hanging over his head.

“Come on, Sapphire,” he growled in annoyance at her antics, as he walked towards the tavern’s wooden door. “Time to show me the grandiose plans you have for my arcanum and crystals.”

With a lighthearted chuckle, she nodded as she followed after him into the dark streets of the Neo Vale.

She stood before the gates of the great city alongside her companions. The weathered stone walls of the city towered above her, while the arcanum iron gates barring their way were a grim reminder to all who it was that was master of this foreboding and dreary place. Compared to her previous home in Bones Landing, this city seemed to lack any color beyond the grey and muted earth tones that comprised its walls.

She supposed the differences were due to the seaponies love for the colors of the sea. Bones Landing’s walls had been whitewashed and painted the same shade of light pink that matched most of Marelantis’s coral constructed buildings. While the ramparts adorning the tops of walls had been painted the same shade of blue as the ocean surrounding the seaponies’ capital.

She remembered all the years she’d served in the vanguard as a reindeer battlemage and despaired when she thought about the beautiful city’s likely fate. Her master didn’t seem at all like the kind of buck who would care to keep its current aesthetic. Most likely he would allow the paint to slowly fade the sun and chip from wear, rather than expend the resources to keep the port city beautiful.

Looking at Shadehoof’s roughhewn walls, she wondered if this was to become the eventual end of the city she’d once called home, and despaired that her own beauty would eventually become as jaded as well. She didn’t consider herself in any sense overly vain, but she felt herself beautiful. Ever since she’d been captured, enslaved, and forced to wear her master’s brand, she’d seen so many dark and terrible things.

She’d seen what a decade of service to her master had done to some of her fellow slaves, and shuddered at the thought of sharing in their fates. Poor bucks and does forced to labor away the prime of their lives in the Slave King’s service, performing backbreaking work in his mines and labor camps. Serving in his armies, or even worse serving as tentdoes to satisfy their fellow slaves’ wanton lust pent up libidos. She only counted herself lucky that she’d been spared from such a horrible fate.

She supposed had the sacking of Bone’s Landing been completed, she’d would’ve been just one more unknown face in a sea of faceless misery, as her master’s minions went about the foul work of enslaving the inhabitants of the city. But due to the timely intervention of Lord Triton and Princess Celestia, they had all been spared from that grisly fate. Instead she was the only prize that the Slave King had managed to claim from the conflict.

But instead of sending her to some Celestia forsaken pit to dig up gems, or forced to lift her tail for anydeer with two bits to rub together between their hooves, she was elevated to a position of great authority within his court and made part of his inner circle as his cupbearer. She was sure many within and without the Domain of Earth would have given a hoof or two, or even killed for such an opportunity. However, she could only feel bitterness at her fate when she looked at the mark adorning her flank which her master had placed upon her.

She only counted herself lucky had she’d been spared the pain that had been inflicted upon her charge Chrysalis, when she was inducted into the Slave King’s service. The changeling had suffered greatly as a show of their master’s power when she received her brand. She wondered why she’d been spared while her charge had not. She couldn’t fathom why he’d show her mercy, while he was so cruel to so many others. As far as she’d seen, not even his own children were afforded one iota of kindness.

Looking to her feathered folk companion, Melody the Yellow, she wondered how she could so cheerfully serve the Slave King. The harper was scarcely seen without a smile on her lips, and always carried a sunny disposition with her. But regardless of her reasons for serving their dark master, she was grateful for the chance to work with her. A chance to go north to Winter was something she’d never have thought a possibility as long as she was the Slave King’s property.

Looking to the seapony chevaleresse who held the dual colors of the Domain of Earth and their mistress, Princess Luna aloft as their standard, she wondered if she considered the irony of her standing as the vanguard for the Slave King’s emissary. She’d not known the seapony long, but as far as she was concerned, Dame Squall had proven herself when they’d faced the changeling thief together inside the Slave King’s treasury.

Impatiently pawing the road with her hoof, she could only thank Winter her coat was white. Had she been born with a darker coat, the day’s heat would be even more unbearable then it already was. Shaking her antlers once she released a bit of magic through them, suspending an icy haze above her party. Immediately, the ice formed a mist as it melted from heat, cooling them quite nicely.

“Ah, that feels so nice, Gunhilde,” Melody sighed, soaking in the cool mist alighting upon her wings and feathers. Fully extending her yellow wings, she sighed as they flexed, allowing her feathers to spread so she could fully enjoy the cool mist against her skin.

“What’s taking them so long?” Chrysalis whined, irritated by the hot cobblestones beneath her paws and the sweltering heat of the day.

“Just somefeather doing some unnecessary posturing,” Melody answered, looking towards the disguised changeling.

“They should be out her kissing our paws, and begging forgiveness for having the audacity of having us needlessly wait,” Chrysalis retorted, stomping her paw down in annoyance. “Between the four of us, we have the authority of the Slave King three times over.”

Dame Squall gave the changeling turned diamond dog bitch a hard look. “Chrysalis, it’s unbecoming for a representative of your caliber to whine,” she admonished, hoping to shame her into silence.

“Oh is that so, chevaleresse?” she haughtily retorted, annoyed that the seapony thought to correct her. “One can only wonder what your fellows in the Order of the Lawgiver might think about you accompanying us here.”

Hearing her retort, Dame Squall went silent. It was true that unless one knew the circumstances behind her joining Melody’s entourage, it would be reasonable to assume she had betrayed her liege and the order to serve under the Slave King’s banner. But her mission was one blessed by the Lawgiver, and she held no care for any that might naysay her involvement here.

Seeing her discomfort, Chrysalis was about to gloat her victory over the seapony when she felt the discomfort of her brand heating up. “Ouch!” she whimpered before shooting Gunhilde a dirty look. “What was that for?”

“This looks to be a lengthy trip, Chrysalis,” she said in an authoritative tone. “And I don’t want to hear you two arguing every time you open your muzzle, understand?”

Chrysalis ground her teeth in frustration, before nodding her assent to her keeper’s demand. Looking towards Dame Squall, she gave the seapony a sour look before rolling her eyes as she slowly stretched out her paw in an offer of halfhearted reconciliation. For her part Dame Squall gave her traveling companion a sidelong glance, before hurriedly grasping the outstretched paw with her fin.

“It’s pax, Chrysalis,” she said, not quite meaning it, and still slightly miffed at her earlier words.

For her part, the changeling shook the offered fin, as she gave her keeper a thoughtful look. “Alright, I accept,” she agreed, though she kept her distaste for the chevaleresse to herself.

Hoping to lighten the mood, Melody pulled out her lute and began lightly strumming it as she rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet. Absentmindedly plucking its strings she turned to her companions. “So have any of you ever been to Shadehoof before?” she asked in between notes.

“Can’t ever say I have,” Gunhilde said, looking up at the towering walls before them. Bones Landing is much further south, and relations between the Domain of Earth and Domain of Water were never warm enough to allow for inland travel.”

“Me either, Melody,” Dame Squall added, resting their banner against her shoulder. “Before the siege at Bones Landing, I’d only ever gone ashore to Equestria a few times in my life.”

Looking towards Chrysalis, the harper gave her a curious look. The changeling hadn’t yet spoken, and she was curious as to why. “What about you?” she asked, accentuating her question with a playful chord from her lute.

Giving the feathered folk harper a slight smirk, she shook her head. “I’ve never even been outside the vicinity of the Diamond Vale before,” she lied, before turning towards Gunhilde. “So how long do you think it will take us to charter a ship to head towards Autumn?”

“With any luck, only a few days,” Melody replied, tapping her foot in time to her music.

“If need be I can inquire at the order’s chapterhouse,” Dame Squall volunteered. “There’s been some increased slaver activity lately, and smuggling via ship has always been their favored method of moving their cargo.”

“But don’t you think asking knights of the Lawgiver for aid might be problematic?” Gunhilde pointed out, wondering what help they could possibly expect to receive from the Domain of Earth’s bitterest rival. “There might be a ceasefire between our domains for now, but there’s no love lost between them.”

In answer, Dame Squall removed the token of the Lawgiver affixed to her armor and showed it to her companions. It shone with a silvery light, testifying to the valor of its owner. “All knights of the Lawgiver know and respect the bearers of these tokens,” she explained, expounding on the token’s significance. “We are honor bound to aid a fellow knight when they require our aid.”

“Would those offers of aid be extended to your traveling companions as well?” Chrysalis asked, wary of having to accept assistance from seaponies, let alone knights of Lawgiver.”

“Well it mostly depends on whether or not the token bearer vouches for you,” Dame Squall explained, reattaching the token to her armor. “But usually it’s not an issue, unless that is you’re an enemy of the order.”

“Well what would you consider three members of the Slave King’s inner circle to be?” she retorted, chiding her for her naiveté.

“Listen here, you!” Dame Squall growled, displeased by her impertinent tone.

“Hey, break it up you two,” Melody said, pointing her lute accusingly at both of them. “We’ll work on one problem at a time. We still have to get into the city you know.”

“You would think that bearing the Slave King’s banner would enough,” Chrysalis grumbled, desperately wishing to escape the oppressive mid-morning heat.

“Some of the Slave King’s servants think themselves above the rest,” Melody explained, lightly strumming her lute. “Their distance from the Slave King’s watchful eye has made them puffed up and arrogant.”

“But Shadehoof is ruled by the Triumvirate Council,” Dame Squall interjected, wondering what the holdup could possibly be. “Surely one of the other entrances might be easier to enter through?”

“No, I don’t think so,” she answered, thinking back to what had happened on the Lonely Road before her father’s wedding to Princess Luna. “The city’s in lockdown. Apparently somefeather was discovered smuggling slaves out of the city using forged documents.”

“Maybe we should try bribing our way in,” Chrysalis suggested, gesturing towards Gunhilde’s saddlebags. “The writ of acquisition we hold, is worth nearly unlimited bits.”

“Harmony would have your head if she heard you talking like that,” Melody said with a wry grin. Looking at her well worn lute she frowned when she remembered how her sister had denied her desire to use the writ to buy a new one. “Besides it’s useless to us until we can show it to somefeather at the Shadehoof branch of the Arcanum Bank.”

“So will it really work?” Dame Squall asked, wondering if the writ would really be honored at every bank.

“Yes it will,” Melody replied, as she reached into her satchel. Pulling out a dull silver coin, she held it up to show them. On its face was the Slave King’s image, engraved on the back were the words which might as well have been considered the Domain of Earth’s moto, The Earth is Generous. “Everyfeather knows that as far as money is concerned, the Slave King’s word is stronger than arcanum steel. He always keeps his word, pays his debts, and collects what he is owed. Because of this, the Arcanum Bank has always been trusted to protect any money deposited with them.”

“Even with the other great banks and trading houses?” Dame Squall asked, knowing how cutthroat the merchants of the Domain of Water could be. “You’d think that as fierce competitors, the other great banks would refuse to honor it.”

“To banks, trust and free flowing currency are like soldiers to an army,” Melody explained, returning the coin to her satchel. “Even if the other banks refused to do business with the Arcanum Bank, it would still do business with their customers, and honor any writs presented to them.”

“But wouldn’t they lose money that way?” the seapony pointed out, slightly confused by how the banking system worked.

“Perhaps in the short term,” Melody continued, returning to her lute. “But as their trustworthy reputation grew, so did their clientele.”

“And their clientele’s bits as well, I gather,” Chrysalis said, nodding in approval of the system that the Arcanum Bank used. Her master was indeed wise. Taking a small immediate loss to reap future gains was an excellent strategy, and increased her estimation of his cunning.

It wasn’t much different from how the hive operated in the collection and dispersal of their harvested victim’s affection. True some could game the system, or even try setting up a competing distribution system. But the hive’s current method for the collection and dispersal of emotional energy was too efficient to have any competition. So too should any bank refuse to do business with the Slave King’s Arcanum Bank, they would find themselves on the losing end in short order, as his bank managed to siphon away their former clients’ business and money.

Looking up at the sun overhead, Gunhilde impatiently shook her antlers in frustration. It had been just before dawn when they had arrived, and now it was nearing midmorning. Normally she’d not get so riled up over waiting, but it been several hours already. Surely those running the city couldn’t expect to keep emissaries of the Slave King waiting forever, could they?

Deciding that she’d had enough, the reindeer approached a smaller door besides the main gate. Smartly rapping her hoof against it three times, she didn’t even bother waiting for somedeer to answer.

“In the name of the Slave King, open up the gate!” she shouted, as she charged her antlers with magic. Feeling her master’s power and authority flowing through her brand, she was prepared to knock down the gates of Tartarus if need be.

She was about to shout out a challenge, when the door’s cuff port slid open. “I already told you lot once, you’ve got to wait until the governor approves your passage!” a gruff voice said, from behind the sealed door.

“Balderdash!” Gunhilde replied, looking into the opening as she angrily glared at the pony guard who was barring their entry into the city. “Open up the gate or I’ll fly over the wall and give you a good thrashing.”

“Little missy,” the stallion derisively snorted at the notion that a mare could best him. “You don’t get to give me orders. The governor ordered the gates sealed until further notice, and that’s what I intend to do.”

“You dirty son of a whor…” Gunhilde growled, furious that she was being dismissed, before she was interrupted by Melody’s calm and even tone.

“Please,” Melody said, approaching the cuff port. “Our mission is of great importance to the domain and the Slave King.”

Seeing the Slave King’s court harper standing outside his gate softened his resolve, but the guard stood firm and refused to budge. “I’m sorry, but I can’t open the gate until I get the okay,” he apologized, before giving Gunhilde a dark look.

“But it’s almost midmorning,” Melody said, pointing towards the sun overhead. “Surely, you must have merchants and travelers that need to leave and enter the city.”

“Sorry, but all traffic has been placed on hold, per the governor’s order,” he explained, sliding a paper through the cuff port.

Grabbing the document, she began reading it. Apparently due to her actions in uncovering the forged documents earlier that week, the Triumvirate Council had voted to bar any further entry from the Domain of Earth or exit from the city until they had discovered who was responsible for the forgeries she’d reported.

Deciding that they’d wasted enough time already, Melody decided to stretch the truth a bit. “Our master, the Slave King, has sent us here for this very reason,” she said, looking the guard in the eye.

“Then why didn’t you say so?” the earth pony asked, shaking his grey mane in agitation, slightly worried he’d impeded official Earth Domain business.

“As you can probably guess, our mission is of a rather sensitive nature,” she whispered conspiratorially, hoping to draw the stallion into her confidence. “The fewer who know anything about it, the better for everyfeather involved.”

He nodded in agreement, he’d heard the stories and rumors about what happened to those who crossed the Slave King or his servants. “All right you can all enter…” he said, to the relief of everyone there, before adding. “Provided you can show me the paperwork proving your mission.”

When they heard his requirement, the four of them let out a lengthy sigh and murmurs of complaint. Melody pursed her beak for a moment as she searched her satchel for something that might satisfy the guard’s requirement.

Chrysalis seeing that everyone else had failed, decided to try her paw at convincing the stallion with her unique talents. Approaching the gate, she looked to Melody. “Allow me to convince him for you,” she offered, giving both the harper and her keeper a wry smile.

“Alright, Chrysalis,” Melody agreed, moving out of the way.

Standing before the cuff port, she stood before the guard with poise and grace. “I can show you our authentication,” she offered, giving the stallion a polite smile. “However, we’ll need to do someplace where nohound else can see us.”

“How do you propose to do so out there?” the guard asked, noting there was little in the way of privacy outside the gate.

“I thought you could allow just me to enter,” she replied, offering him a seductive look. “I promise you if you find my authorization lacking, we’ll be happy to continue waiting for the governor’s permission to enter.”

Looking Chrysalis over, the guard noted she was quite comely for a bitch, and thought she was most likely one of those high priced tentmares he couldn’t ever afford to visit after hours. He smiled to himself as he imagined that she wished to seduce him into letting them into the city. Of course he would take her offered bribe, before denying her request and kicking her out to rejoin her companions.

Deciding that she would do quite nicely for a welcome distraction, he decided to take her up on her offer. “Alright,” he agreed, closing the port cuff and unlocking the door. “You can come inside. This gatehouse is secluded, so you can show me your authorization without worrying about our privacy.”

“Good, it will be so nice to get out of this oppressive heat.” she purred, flashing the guard an appreciative smile.

“Chrysalis,” Gunhilde warned, concerned the changeling might spoil their chances in convincing the guard to let pass through the gates.

“Don’t worry, Gunhilde,” she replied, confident in her abilities to see them through. Walking past her party, she gave them a playful wave as the door closed behind her.

Studying the gatehouse, she noted that it was secluded just as her host had promised. Which was perfect for her needs in persuading the guard of the urgency of their mission. She could sense his lustful appetite, and sweetly smiled at him. It had been quite some time since she last fed from Gunhilde, and a little lust would tide her over until she could frequent one of the city’s many whorehouses. She was sure should she choose to indulge him, that he would offer her ample nourishment. However, she had something a little different in mind towards entertaining her most gracious host.

“So where would you like to do this?” the stallion asked, not even bothering to hide his eagerness for what was to come. “We have a couch available, if you like.”

“A most generous and appreciative offer,” Chrysalis said, seductively licking her lips. “However, what I have in mind, is a bit different then what you seem to have planned for me.”

When he heard her response, immediately his ears and face grew flush with desire as his mind filled with all kinds of debaucherous thoughts. He couldn’t believe his luck, this little minx was probably going to offer him an extremely carnal and exotic experience in the hopes of swaying him. Thinking about what they might shortly do together almost tempted him enough to allow her and her companions entrance into the city.

“May I have your name please?” she sweetly asked, doing her best to melt his heart.

“Oh, of course, ma’am,” he said, feeling eager to begin their little bit of fun together. “The name is Sergeant Tough Nut. But feel free to call me Tuff.”

“Oh, I will. Are you a tough nut to crack?” she teased, as she drew closer to him.

“Why don’t you come a little closer and find out, cutie,” he flirted, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Oh, a cutie am I?” she playfully huffed. “Well, I need you to close your eyes for me if you would, sergeant.”

“Oh, a surprise,” he said with a grin, before closing his eyes. “Hopefully I’ll enjoy it.”

“I’m afraid you won’t, Sergeant Tough Nut,” a rough, guttural voice answered.

Opening in eyes in surprise, the pony nearly fainted in fear with what he saw standing before him. Less than half a length from him stood a doomhound. Where once there was a comely and lovely bitch, now stood one of the Slave King’s most feared servants. Afraid for his life, he trembled before the muscled beast of sharp claws and teeth.

When she saw the guard was refusing to answer her, she approached him, allowing her heavy pawsteps to echo inside the gatehouse. “So tell me, sergeant,” Chrysalis asked, flashing her sharp teeth at him. “Did you enjoy your surprise?”

“No… no I didn’t,” the stallion stammered, wishing he’d never agreed to let her inside.

“I wonder how many others you’ve allowed inside your post?” she mused, circling around the terrified pony. “Should word of your transgression reach the Slave King, I imagine entertaining a doomhound will be least of your worries.”

“Ye… yes, ma’am,” he stammered, desperately wishing he was anywhere else but here.

Waiting for the sergeant to answer for himself, she inhaled deeply through her nostrils. “Why have you kept me waiting, Tuff?” she demanded, tilting her head accusingly at him. “I thought you were planning on having your way with me, before denying my group entrance to the city.”

“I’m not sure…” he replied, backing away from her.

“Not sure of what exactly, Sergeant?” she hissed, eliciting a sharp squeal digging as she drew her claws against the stones beneath her paws.

“I don’t know, I’m not sure,” he shouted, nervous and unsure of what to do.

“You know, sergeant, I could have been a changeling infiltrator or who knows what else,” Chrysalis chastised, dressing down the poor stallion. “An expensive mistake, considering what has happened these past few weeks.”

“You mean Bones Landing, ma’am?” he said with dread, realizing he just might be moments from death, courtesy her jaws and teeth.

“Exactly, sergeant, and even more,” she continued, thrumming her claws against the flagstones beneath her. “There was an attempted assassination and theft within the Slave King’s palace recently.”

Hearing her words, made the stallion’s grey coat go nearly white with fear. He was certain the doomhound was going to kill him now for his dereliction of duty, he just knew it. “Please forgive me!” he shouted, groveling before her as he shivered with terror. “It won’t happen again. I swear it.”

“Normally, it’s expected of us to provide correction to those who’ve strayed into a dereliction of their duty…” she said, mulling over what she was planning on doing with him. “But my companions and I don’t have the time to discipline you.”

“Oh thank you, thank you…,” he said with relief as he saw the doomhound transform back into the sexpot bitch he’d invited into the gatehouse. “I’ll let your party through…”

“Good, speak of this to nohound,” she warned as she flashed him a grin which showed off her pearly white canines.

Waiting impatiently by the door, she gave him an expectant look. Realizing she was waiting for him, he rushed to her side to let her out before he activated the lever to raise the gate. As soon as his guest had left, he shut the door and locked it behind her, before breathing a sigh of relief.

Offering her companions a haughty smile and friendly wave, she gestured them to join her in front of the raising gate. “We came to an understanding,” she said, when she saw their questioning looks.

“But how?” Dame Squall asked, perplexed how easily she’d convinced the guard to let them pass.

“You just need to know how to talk to hounds, and they become putty in your paws,” she remarked with a playful smirk, as they walked into the city through the now open gate.

Hmm… the seapony murmured to herself, wondering if she might learn Chrysalis’s secrets for herself.

With the sun at his back, he could see his destination on the far horizon. Like a sheet of vibrant blue glass, the Western Sea stretched endlessly before him for miles. Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply and smelt the distinctively salty scent coming from the sea. To him it meant that he was finally free. At last, all his lost years came rushing back to him in an instant, and he felt young once more. Stretching out his arms wide, he exhaled and felt all his sorrows abandoning him.

He felt the cool sea breeze washing over him, blowing through his greying beard and hair as he silently thanked his companion for all her help in getting him here. She had been so generous and kind to him, the first kindness he’d ever known from a stranger in over a decade. He owed her everything, for she’d healed and dressed his wounds, offered him respite and succor, and even his life. But most importantly, she offered him a hope for the future. Which until he’d met her, he’d sorely had little of.

Oh sure, he’d spent the better part of a decade plotting and scheming his escape from bondage, and had even succeeded. But he’d only ever given serious consideration to escaping his master’s clutches, and honestly had no idea what to do with himself once he’d fulfilled his centuries old promise to his long passed family. After all, he couldn’t simply book a flight or hail a taxi to take him back to his homeland in Phoenix.

Thinking of the city he’d called home before he’d had either the fortune or misfortune of coming to this magical place, he smiled when he thought of the irony of returning to Phoenix on a phoenix. But then the realization of how much time had passed since he’d last seen the land of his birth struck him, and his head fell. Even if he could somehow manage to find a way and open the sky to return him from whence he came, what would be left for him there? It had been over five centuries since he’d last been there. Would the city even still be standing? Would his nation?

If he could return home, what then of his darker half, what would become of him? He knew he desired to redeem him, if not only for the Slave King’s sake, but his own. After all, he was the only living relative he had left. How could he willingly abandon him to the hellish existence that he’d made for himself? Surely he might be made to see reason if he could somehow speak with him privately, maybe even convince him to repent for his misdeeds.

After spending last night with Suzaku he’d felt something awaken deep within him. At the time he wasn’t quite sure what it was, but now he had an inkling of an idea. Maybe a bit of what had made the Slave King divine was within him as well. Suzaku had said he wasn’t quite an ordinary man anymore, or wayfarer as she’d called him. The more he ruminated upon the hunger he’d known that night, the more certain he grew of the theory he held.

Something’s changed within me, he mused to himself, as the shoreline drew ever closer.

But what could one man possibly do against the power that the Slave King possessed? From what he’d gathered the Domain of Earth had only increased in strength since he’d deposed it of its former master, Lord Darkpaw. His army was great, and with total mastery over the Earth, he was sure he possessed wealth without measure. Could a single person actually make a difference against such odds, he didn’t know. But Snowe had always called him an eternal optimist.

Thinking of his adopted, mottled white and grey, griffin brother, he grew nostalgic. He wondered what he might say if he knew he was traveling with such a beauty, managed to have caught her eye, and had even lain with her.

Probably, King, you hairless monkey, what are you doing shooting the breeze with me for? Don’t let her get away from you... he fondly thought to himself, as he imagined Snowe congratulating him on his good fortune.

He found it quite tempting to follow his brother’s advice. After all what else did he have to look forward to? Eking out a living in the wilds alone or in some forgotten backwater, constantly looking over his shoulder and praying he wasn’t discovered by the Slave King’s minions? No, maybe he should accept Suzaku’s offer once he’d finally made his peace with Snowe’s and Little Bleu’s passing. He might be happy.

Running his fingers through her fiery red feathers, he smiled as he imagined what kind of life they might have together. He could easily live in idle luxury, entertaining her in her palace. Who knows, she might even be able to teach him how to use the spark he’d felt burning within himself. Then once he had a means of defending himself, he might be able to confront the Slave King with his new found power.

But what of rest of them? he wondered to himself, as he tried his best to remember all the unfamiliar faces he’d seen judging him as he stood within the waters of the Well of Eternity.

It was still mostly a blur of faces, and he tried in vain to remember who his enemies might be. He wondered if he sought out refuge amongst their number, would he find welcome and fellowship, or half sheathed knives and murderous intent. It was a gamble that held perilous stakes if he choose who to trust poorly. Even his companion, though he was certain bore him no ill will, could be a liability if she decided to be more forceful in her pursuit of his heart.

Looking at the waves crashing on the shore below them, he clutched her tightly as a sense of vertigo threatened to overwhelm him. They were nearly there now, and although flying had made short work of what would’ve been an otherwise lengthy journey across the unforgiving wastes and badlands of the Domain of Earth, he would be grateful to finally find his solace in the security of solid ground beneath his feet.

He caught his breath as he felt her banking sharply to the right as she descended to land. He saw their shadows casted upon the waves and smiled. He was here, finally free at long last. Free to fulfill the promise to those he owed his life and freedom. Free to finally mourn and bury those who’d he’d been forced to leave behind. Free to remember and celebrate the familial bonds they’d held with each other. Free to leave the sorrows and shadows of the past behind him, to start upon the path that led to a brighter future, and free to embrace the happiness it might offer him.

Should he return to the place that had brought him such pain and grief, he’d not yet decided. But for today, he would mourn and laugh, weep and smile, and above all… he would live. Not only for himself, but for his brother Snowe, whose wisdom he sorely missed. The griffin who he’d doomed by his cowardice and weakness to toil in enslavement beneath the whip for nearly a decade. The unlikely friend whose compassion and forgiveness had shown him how to be brave and fresh courage take. The brother who’d inspired him, even in the depths of despair, to never give up for himself and for her.

Oh, his Little Bleu, if only she could be here alongside him this day, basking in the sweet air of freedom, he’d gladly give up the rest of his days. He wondered that if she’d managed to escape with him, what sort of life they might’ve had together. What sort of man she’d choose to marry, the children she might’ve had. He felt himself getting misty eyed at the thought of holding them.

Her coat was nearly the same shade of blue as the water beneath them, her mane was as the heavens, and she possessed eyes that sparkled like gemstones. She was his daughter and he her father. His reason for enduring the daily beatings. His strength to carry on. Thinking of her, he face grew wet with tears, and he cried unashamed.

When he felt his companion flare out her wings, he lurched forward as she lightly touched down on the sandy beach. Looking behind them, he saw the sun shining brightly as it made its ascent into the sky. He saw the untamed wilds they had passed through to reach here. He saw all the suffering and hardship he’d been forced to endure, and turned away. Looking out at the sea unfolding before him, he felt as if he were in a dream. Out there within his reach was the Western Sea. All he had to do was dismount and set foot within the cool waters, and his task would finally be complete.

“My love, are you all right?” he heard Suzaku ask, as she released her magic’s hold upon him.

Dismounting from her back, he stood upon the sandy beach and faced her. She wore a look of concern on her face as she studied him. Placing her wing against his cheek she gently caressed it. Staring into her ruby eyes, he smiled and offered her a look of gratitude.

Saying nothing he silently nodded, as he wiped his reddened eyes against the back of his hand. Looking towards the gently crashing waves on the beach, he felt his heart ache. By all rights they should’ve been here alongside him to celebrate their freedom. He should’ve been here, she should’ve been here. But they weren’t. They were centuries long dead, and he was all alone. He shook as he tried stilling his tumultuous heart.

“Elrey, you’re not alone, love,” he heard her say, as she pulled him into a tight embrace.

Her words were all it took. He fell to his knees and quietly wept.

She said nothing more, simply content to comfort him in his hour of need. The two sat upon the beach together in silence, content to soak in the serenity of the cove. It was then that he who was alone, was alone no longer. As the sun bore down upon them, they rested against each other and basked in the stillness of this sacred place, as the tide rose against this once lonely windswept shore.

His head broke through the water’s surface. With water dripping from his face and beard he inhaled deeply, he found himself coughing a little as he’d nearly inhaled some salt water in his haste to breathe. Laying on his back, he floated and bobbed along the surface as he allowed the currents to carry him wherever they might go. It felt wonderful, relaxing while he bobbed effortlessly atop the gentle waters of the cove. Rolling his head to the side, he saw her laying on the sandy shore with her wings fully spread out, basking in the warmth of the sun’s rays.

When he advised her that he wished to swim alone, she’d objected. She’d been worried that he might drown as he swam unattended in the gentle waters of the cove. Offering her a compromise, he agreed to stay within her visual range as he swam. Lazily paddling in a wide circle, he looked up at the sun and closed his eyes.

He’d finally done it, he’d fulfilled the promise that he’d made to them. To swim in the Western Sea beneath Celestia’s sun and Luna’s moon, and then wait for them to join him beneath the shade of a green tree. Looking back up, he noted that it wasn’t quite midday yet. He looked at his pruney fingers and decided it was now time to head back to the shore. Although he was glad that he’d finally kept the promise he’d made all those centuries previously, he realized that he’d not really enjoyed the experience.

The salt water burned his eyes and was making his skin itch. He supposed the sentiment had been a nice one, but in the end had been a rather underwhelming experience for him. Once he’d swam beneath the moon later that night, he decided that he’d stick to hot springs from then on. They were something that he’d always enjoyed attending with them during their days of rest. Stroking with his arms and kicking with his legs, he swam through the water as well as anyone could be expected who’d had as little practice swimming as he had.

Reaching out with his toes, he felt himself touch bottom and began awkwardly walking through the water towards the shore. Looking behind him, he wondered if any seaponies were watching, and if they were, what they'd make of him if they saw him. To date the only seapony he could recall having seen was within the scrambled memories he held of the Lord of Water, Triton the Lawgiver, the seapony god who’d confronted him after he’d set foot within the waters of the Well of Eternity.

He knew that the Lawgiver and the Slave King were rivals, if not cold warriors at best. He wondered what the seapony deity might do to him, should he be discovered. He felt a cold chill running through him. Out here in the open water he’d be easy prey for a shark or one of the larger predators that inhabited the Domain of Water. Feeling disquieted by his realization, he moved towards the shore as quickly as he could. For he didn’t want to have walked through hell and back to fulfill the promise, only to become some fish’s meal in the end.

Now in waist deep water, he felt more at ease. Surely all he had to worry about in such shallow waters was stubbing his toes on a rock, or having them nibbled on by a passing fish. He saw his companion waving to him as she approached the water’s edge with a large towel in tow. Seeing her standing there waiting for him warmed his heart. He felt the scales of his indecision tilting more in her favor. He imagined should he choose her, their life together would be quite a happy one.

Perhaps I should leave the Slave King to the Pantheon’s judgment, he thought to himself, as he reconsidered his earlier idea of trying to convince the frightful god of the error of his ways. Even if I could confront him, what could I possibly do beyond flapping my gums?

Suddenly he felt something brush against his leg. Looking down, his eyes went wide with shock as he saw a monstrous tentacle beginning to wrap itself around his leg. Before he could cry out in panic, he felt himself getting pulled beneath the waves, and being dragged away from the shore into the watery depths of the cove.

Struggling against his attacker, he saw a bright flash of red light above the water, which he supposed was Suzaku readying herself to come rescue him. Thrashing in desperation against the tentacle which held him beneath the water’s surface, he nearly gasped when he saw a second tentacle reaching out to further restrain him. Slamming his fists as hard as he could against the unyielding flesh of his assailant, he fought in vain to regain his freedom.

Running out of both time and oxygen, he pulled against the tentacle in a desperate bid to return to the surface for air. Shaking his head in frustration, he kicked as hard as he could while trying his damnedest to pull away from his restraints, as he tried clawing his way to the surface. Without any options and nearly out of breath, he was about to give up and welcome his watery grave and oblivion, when he felt himself being pulled upwards out of the water.

Breaking the surface, he felt himself being flung up high into the air. Gasping for breath, he looked around in surprise as he saw Suzaku battling a massively multitentacled sinuous terror. The relief he felt at being able to breathe freely was short lived however, as he saw the beast’s open maw beneath him. Suzaku was trying to reach him, but was being held at bay by the creature’s numerous tentacles.

Magical flames burned in her wake, as fire danced along the length and breadth of her wings and plumage. Screeching a cry of challenge, the phoenix launched a volley of fireballs against the beast’s scaly hide. But to no avail, her flames had little effect. For all her power, all she’d managed to do was release clouds of steam as the sea snuffed out her attack and enrage the creature even further with her assault.

Now at the apex of his short lived flight, he began falling towards the beast’s waiting jaws. Seeing his impending death rushing headlong towards him, he felt oddly at peace. At least he’d had the chance to fulfill his promise to them. The promise… to him, to her. To his Little Bleu.

Then it hit him with all the force of a collapsing mountain, complete and utter clarity as to what had happened to them back in the mines. To his brother, to his daughter, to himself. It was then that his inner peace gave way to something he’d not yet had a chance to know since his resuscitation. Anger.

Anger towards the ones who’d robbed him of his family, of Snowe and Little Bleu. He could feel it within him, the power. All he had to do was stretch forth his hand, and all who’d ever wronged him would be ended. He could rend the Earth in twain and be done with it. He was sorely tempted to, the beast beneath him drew ever closer as he fell, and it would be the first to suffer his wrath.

But then he saw Suzaku break through the writhing mass of tentacles, flying towards him with all the speed she could muster. Without a second thought, he reached out towards the divine spark he’d felt within her breast last night, and was pulled into her talon’s hold. Seeing them escape its clutches, the beast angrily slapped its tentacles against the water in a fury as it was robbed of its dinner.

He felt himself getting deposited on the beach a safe distance away from the water’s edge. Short of breath and panting, he looked up and saw Suzaku release a cry of anger as she launched a wave of flames to drive the creature away from them.

Sitting up, he spat out the sand which had managed to get inside his mouth. Brushing away the wet sand that was stuck to his arms and chest, he breathed a sigh of relief. He was still alive.

“Elrey love,” Suzaku said, pressing him against her breast. “I was so worried for you!”

“Ah, thank you, Suzaku,” he replied, relaxing in her embrace. “I thought I was a goner for sure.”

“You’re safe now, my love,” she sighed, holding him tightly with her wings.

He felt her tremble as she choked back a sob.

“I thought you were going to die,” she cried, wetting his neck with her hot salty tears. “I don’t know what I would do if you were to be killed.”

“I’m safe now,” he reassured her, trying his best to comfort her. “We’re both safe.”

Looking worriedly towards the sea, he wondered if it was still safe to camp here.

Sensing his fears, Suzaku offered him a reassuring smile as she dabbed her eyes with a silken kerchief. With a melodious chirp, her eyes flared with a vibrant red light. “Elrey, we’ll come to no further mischief here,” she said, stroking his back with her wing. “The wards I just placed will protect us from harm.”

Before she’d uttered the words he knew it. He’d felt her power as she released it into her wards. The power she possessed which he’d latched upon as he fell, he could still sense it. The spark she held within her radiated a comforting warmth, and he was loathe to release it. But looking into her ruby eyes, he saw the care which she held for him reflected back at him, and so released it.

Offering her companion a warm smile, she returned to the blanket she’d been sunning on, and waited for him to join her as she patted the space beside her. Glad for the chance to return to the comfort and warmth she offered him. He sat down alongside her, and enjoyed the heat radiating from her feathers.

“I felt you just now, Elrey,” she began, spreading her feathers as she began preening herself. “I guess you must have some questions for me.”

Nodding in agreement, he rested his hands on his knees. “Yes, I believe I now understand by what you meant last night,” he said, curious to learn more about this new unfamiliar power within him. “About me about being no ordinary wayfarer.”

Straightening a few wayward feathers, she got comfortable and prepared to explain his divinity to him. “Elrey, let me tell you about magic…”