//------------------------------//
// Chapter Two: The Path Of Change 
// Story: To Earn Our Equality 
// by ScrambledCrackers 
//------------------------------//

	
Two years after escaping into the wilds…




A series of sharp staccato cracks of wood striking wood sounded out in the late afternoon air of early summer. The two combatants shifted about, preparing to make the next rapid assault.

Quiet Grace was covered in sweat as she shifted the staff in her forelegs, her silvery mane tied back to keep it from falling over her eyes. The length of wood she held moved with a practiced ease born of hours upon hours of drills and countless sparring matches. Her earthy brown coat shone in the gradually waning sunlight of the valley as she focused on Gezi, her now well-toned muscles shifting under her skin as she kept up her defense.

Her amber-colored left eye saw the shift in his foot, her blind right was a blank white in the middle of her scar, and Grace was already moving as he darted towards her again, knocking aside a thrust, blocking one strike, then dodging a kick before deflecting another blow of his staff.

She had long since found it was exhilarating to engage him this way. Her favorite were their weaponless matches where she was free to use all four hooves unhindered, as weapons kept her hind hooves planted out of necessity. It always made her feel so alive with each block and strike they traded.

There was a growing part of her that could never get enough of these moments with her strange friend that she had come to trust with her life. To her, it was much like the feeling other mares often described during a festival dance, which was something Grace had never really taken to, preferring to help ensure festivities were going smoothly for everypony rather than cavort about. And that feeling gave her all the more energy to press harder when she found an opening for her to begin a counterattack, a faint determined smirk coming to her lips as she went on the offensive.

Quiet Grace knew well by know that he was faster and more dexterous with his staff than she was, though the gap in speed had steadily grown smaller as her skill grew. She was a bit stronger, and while her hoof grip, something that had both boggled and startled Gezi the first time she held his hand with it, was unable to spin the staff as nimbly, her extra muscle let her attacks carry more weight that was harder to block or deflect, while also letting her throw off any against her with less strain in turn. Although, claiming a victory had continued to elude her all the same.

Grace had a moment of wondering what she wanted to do for that first victory, knowing it might happen at almost any time now. Unless of course Gezi was still holding back more than she realized, as he had continued to do the entire time they had been training. Whispers floated across her mind’s eye of how to celebrate the accomplishment, with a particular couple of ideas catching her attention more than they used to.

Having spent much of her life imagining what the world would have to offer when she was grown, then of a better life after unicorns decided to establish a new city in their area, letting her mind wander as she worked on something was a rather ingrained habit for her.

It was a habit she had struggled to break herself out of when she began her training. Gezi had provided her many lumps and bruises when she let herself lose focus. He somehow always knew when she did, too.

It was not much of a surprise when she misjudged her block after a feint and felt Gezi’s staff land on her shoulder with a sharp burst of pain, causing her to stumble for the briefest moment. She was on her side with the end of Gezi’s staff stopping just a few hairs above her muzzle after he took her hind legs out from under her almost as fast as she could blink with a sweep of one of his own long and frustratingly nimble legs.

Looking up at him with her one eye as she panted from exhaustion, she saw his displeased frown and chastised herself before he could say a word. She greatly disliked doing anything that made him show her that expression.

“You must always keep focus. Will never find mercy from enemy in battle,” Gezi said with a scowl, his lungs a bit hungry for air as well, then his face relaxed back to his usual calm, neutral expression, even as his eyes held that curious glint in them like they often did at the end of their sparring practices. “You fight much better. Keep focus much better. Only training hurt?”

Quiet Grace gave him a short nod before rolling to her hooves, giving a small wince as her shoulder twinged. Pausing to work her foreleg around a little and stamping the ground with it, she knew she would have another bruise and would be walking with a slight limp for a day or two. She let out a sigh over the lesson as she looked up at him. “Just training hurt. I let myself think of defeating you for once at the end. Thank you for reminding me I still have plenty of room to improve.”

“I know I say many times before. Never think of what to do with victory if victory not yet complete. Leave such things in planning before battle, but once battle begins, never lose focus. Never give opportunity to opponent when unplanned,” he said in a calm tone as he picked up her staff for her. It had become a habit of his to carry both when they were done, as it was such a simple matter for him as opposed to her need for balancing it on her back or a cord to tie it and still be free to walk unhindered. “Best we go share evening meal now. Still wish to teach more about army formations after. Same as yesterday. Much to learn, but I see Grace can become good general.”

With that, the two of them began to walk back towards the home they shared, twice the size of the simple healer’s hut of before so there was more space for teaching and study. The ponies of the village had insisted their new house be one of the first, convinced the gods had given them guidance and Grace would lead them into a brighter future. It was one of the first things built, after the large temporary shelters for the whole village, after the they had come across the valley they now called home. Both Gezi and Lead Mare Puddinghoof had agreed it was time to stop their travel when they found it.

The broad valley they had settled in was a long way from any known settled lands. A large lake lay at one end, the sides lined with mountains, and the far end resting on the edge of a craggy mountain range that rose above the clouds most days. There was a modest river flowing through the middle from the crags to the lake that would be useful, and the passes between the surrounding smaller mountains appeared defensible against those that could not fly, according to Gezi. The valley was small enough for the far edges to be within sight at any point within, yet sizeable enough to hold a large city population as they planned in the years to come.

The soil in the fields was good. The weather was proving to be forgiving and the first two winters had been mild. Plenty of forested areas for wood and other plants. The lake had plentiful fish and the forests had plenty of game, for what amounts of such they did need. Early explorations even suggested a potentially rich mine could be dug in several of the surrounding mountains, giving them access to plenty of metals when they began digging in earnest next year as their numbers grew, if their four scouting teams were successful in convincing other villages to come join them.

Quiet Grace wasn’t sure she had really seen a second white dove in the distance, just before they found the entrance to a large natural cave Gezi had suggested they may need, but that last discovery of the cave at the base of the crags, opposite the lake at the far end of the valley, had served to strengthen her resolve still further, her lingering doubts aside. She had a suspicion about seeing a second dove, flying as if waving over the valley, but felt it rather unlikely unless she saw it a third time, and so put it out of her mind. They were just legends.

Either way, all they needed was in one place, almost as if it were delivered to them, or perhaps they to it.

They had their place to grow.

While there were some dangerous creatures as well, manticores and the like as was expected so far into the wilds, it was now a threat well countered by Gezi’s first display of the ranged weapons he had promised to provide to them. Something Earth ponies could use, but until now had long been believed to be impossible for hooves to wield. Things both similar and still quite unlike the large bows the minotaurs made use of.

Though it had taken him time to adapt the design, and, to his own surprise, make them strong enough for an Earth pony to use, they had several built in the time since. There were even improved versions he was slowly developing that would make them better, and the start of much heavier forms based around two or more ponies working together to wield. Gezi said what they currently had were a heavy form of what his own kind had used.

He had given them crossbows.

The first attempts he had made for them were either too awkward to use in combat, or felt too fragile. It had also been the point when Gezi had begun to fully understand the differences in strength between his kind and Earth ponies. After he had scaled up the weapons a bit, they had more power than before, and a draw strength to better match an earth pony’s greater natural strength.

Even after demonstrating in the late fall after they had begun to settle in the valley, most ponies did not really appreciate their power until a few months later in mid-winter, when a rogue manticore that had begun stalking ponies at the edge of the village changed most opinions all at once. It still impressed her that the hunting party that tracked it down had not only been able to kill it with their new crossbows and not their spears, but they had done so without a single scratch in the end, close as it was when a bolt caught the manticore in the eye. A feat all but unheard of among Earth ponies.

This first major gift alone had dramatically impacted their future. They had enough knowledge to replicate them now, yet the fact it was just the beginning was causing no end of excitement. One mare even had the surprising appearance of her destiny mark, one of the new crossbows now adorning her flank. That mare’s skill with them at large distances was growing rapidly, though Gezi had been rather bemused when he learned that her name was Long Shot.

After he had explained, Quiet Grace had found herself feeling the same way, and it was in that moment she understood why he had once said ponies were very absurd.

The two of them continued walking along the path towards their home, looking about the village as a few ponies not already indoors greeted them with respect as they passed. As Grace saw one of the more solid houses half completed in the fading sunlight, she recalled how Gezi had encouraged they make only simple temporary huts for basic shelter at first, but then begin constructing much sturdier buildings that would be able to last against the elements for years to come. He had reasoned the additional materials and work was well worth it, that it would would reward them later. The new building methods he had shown them had already been an improvement, if a bit more difficult for ponies to employ, but those that understood construction had seen the reason in his thinking.

As they passed the more permanent house where a certain filly lived with her family, she began remembering what had happened when Gezi had called for the first volunteers to begin learning how to fight under his guidance in the first autumn after coming to the valley.





***





Quiet Grace looked on as Gezi addressed those of the village who had desired to learn more when he had announced all interested in becoming the first fighting students should meet with him. Nearly thirty mares had come with every intent of taking up the training, with the bulk made up of every mare that ever hunted dangerous beasts or protected the village present and in front, with a crowd of curious ponies nearby that were not as interested beyond simply seeing what Gezi was going to do.

Gezi’s ever present calmness belied the conviction in his voice, the chilly fall air making his breath visible as he spoke, “All know we here to prepare for much fighting. I must begin teaching skills now so ponies become ready. Earth pony body different from own kind, so I must learn what must change to make earth ponies have best skills. First students will have much suffering to make way for future learning. I accept all ponies willing to suffer and learn the way of own kind’s fighting. Teaching will not be gentle. You will know pain. I always show fairness for hard work. I must learn with ponies so I teach better. Form in row of ten each there with Grace, so all in village may see ponies willing to take biggest hardship for better future. Will train hard all of winter. Will train ponies in all conditions to give strength. Make ponies strong like mountains.”

He pointed to a clear space on the fallow field where Quiet Grace already stood, cleared for next spring’s planting, and the mares that had presented themselves, following Grace’s lead, lined up as directed with her as she stood in the first position. As they had moved, a couple more mares of the village had stepped forward and went to join the lines.

It was a surprise to hear a familiar name being called, and when Grace looked, she saw young Shining Star walking towards the lines of mares willing to undertake the training.

The orange filly with a frosty blue mane and tail wore a determined look, though her green eyes were nervous. The two of her three herd mothers present had told her to return, but they did not move to stop her. She kept walking towards the next place in line until Gezi stepped in front of her with a frown, causing Shining Star to stop and crane her neck to meet his eyes.

Grace watched the filly swallow before she tried to sound calm as she spoke, “You said you will take all ponies ready to suffer and learn. My mothers told me to always repay my debts and Healer Grace lost her eye to protect me. I want to learn how to be strong so nopony will get hurt for me again and I can protect ponies myself.”

There was a long period of silence as Quiet Grace watched Gezi staring down at the filly struggling to stand her ground and not waver. Gezi made no response or visible reaction to the filly’s words as he stared her down, the biting autumn breeze making the only sound in the moment as it swirled around them.

When Gezi finally spoke, it was outwardly with the same calmness he almost always had, but Quiet Grace thought she detected a faint touch of both wariness and amusement, “If you join line, I give no mercy. No time to give extra for foal. You work hard as other mares or I refuse teaching and send home. Must work harder to earn same respect. You will know more suffering to keep same pace. You run same distance. You work same amount each day. When practice fighting, you take same hits. If you think ready, join line.”

It brought Grace mixed feelings when Shining Star gave him a determined look and joined the line, making her the youngest by far at only seven years. After a moment of maternal concern, Quiet Grace silenced her mind. Shining Star would either give up or succeed in her decision on her own, regardless of anything Grace felt about it. Grace found she hoped the filly had the strength she knew Gezi was going to demand.

Stepping out in front of the ponies that had volunteered, Gezi surveyed them for a moment, his eyes lingering on Shining Star only a moment longer than others before he spoke in a firm tone, “First lesson! With own kind, fighting teacher called Sifu. All students obey all thing I say and address I as Sifu. Disrespect earn punishment. All punishment still given as fair lesson. Earn own respect. I only give respect when earned.

“First task, I must see state of body and mind. All students will run. We run around field until I say finish. From today, all students run every morning unless healing injury. Begin running!” Gezi called out loudly, setting off immediately at what Quiet Grace knew was a pace she had seen him use without tiring as she and the others began to follow. Though he lacked the galloping speed of a pony, he had seemingly inexhaustible endurance.

It was an agonizingly long time later when he declared they were done. Only two of the hunting mares were still on their hooves the whole run, gasping for breath and falling to the ground when it ended. Gezi’s own breathing had barely picked up at all.

Shining Star, even with her shorter legs, had lasted longer than half the mares present before she collapsed as the others did, trying to get her wind back.

And she was one of the first to get back up to continue each time she did.




***




That day had been almost two years ago.

Now, young Shining Star was bigger, needing less mad determination than she had first required in order to keep up. True to his word, Gezi had not gone easy on her, but she had earned her place among his students. With the exception of scaling down the size of her practice weapons out of necessity for her to learn proper skills, the filly had been given no concessions. Even though she had some moments of tears when her age caught up with her, she had carried herself well and did not complain. She also had the easiest time improving her flexibility for the movements Gezi was teaching.

Although he never said it, Grace knew Gezi had grown fond of Shining Star. Of course, that often just meant he pushed her closer to her limits than the others, as he did with Grace herself. Everything said she was going to grow into a skilled fighter and leader in the future.

It also gave Quiet Grace more conviction for the role she knew she must claim. Her destiny was as the sword of command that Gezi could not be among ponies. She had a sense she was watching the growth of a future commander in the orange filly that she would someday rely on.

The remaining distance to their shared home was short. Grace and Gezi were soon preparing their evening meal together. More lessons on strategy followed by the light of the fire.

Though at times she struggled, Gezi was patient and had grown better at explaining in a manner that made more sense to her more often. He had also begun challenging her to a game of strategy he brought from his homeland, saying it helped gain a deeper understanding of the application of planning and tactics, the different ways to respond to any given scenario she found herself confronted with. She knew that she was growing better each day, slow as progress was with all she knew she had to learn.

When her evening lesson in strategy was finished, the fire tended and they were ready for sleep, a thought occurred to Grace and she grew curious. She turned to her friend as he sat down on the edge of their bed, his lower half hidden as usual by his clothing but his shirt missing due to the summer warmth, herself having already gotten under the blanket.

“Gezi, I just realized something,” Grace began, touching her friend’s back with her hoof as she spoke, thinking nothing of her curiosity as he looked over his shoulder at her. “From the things you have told me of your kind, you often made it sound as if it is unusual to sleep beside friends. I find myself curious to know why have you not once spoken of having your own bed in these two years since I first tended your wounds after we found you. Might I know why?”

To her surprise, his eyes tightened ever so slightly and she felt him tense under her hoof, though he gave no other sign. Had she not been touching his back or been able to see his eyes, she might not have noticed the shift. It made her grown concerned as he turned his head forward and looked away.

Gezi spoke in a quiet tone that appeared calm, but after being around him for two years, Quiet Grace was able to discern that it carried a great deal of tension. “If Grace wish to have her own bed, I respect choice.”

The response he gave her made her concern grow much greater. Rising up, she moved across their bed and pressed her chest against his back as her forelegs slipped around his ribs. She pressed her nose against his neck through his coal black mane as she would another pony.

She knew he was extremely reserved about physical contact by pony standards, and she had always respected that by limiting her contact with him if he did not initiate something first, which was rare. Her instincts were telling her something was wrong this time, and feeling it would be best to follow how she would treat another pony in this, she did so.

When she felt a faint shudder she held him a bit tighter, breathing against the back of his neck as she spoke, “Gezi, what troubles you? Please, speak with me.”

After a lengthy pause without a response, Quiet Grace worried that much more when Gezi seemed to almost shrink into himself, his hand capturing one of her forehooves wrapped around his torso and holding it tightly.

His voice came quietly, almost a whisper when he began to speak, “Grace… I…” He paused for another long moment of silence as he seemed to gather himself.

When he did speak again, it was still soft, but she noted it was also tired and weary as his words came slowly. “Way of own kind, must always save face. Always show respect and not show weakness. Never bring dishonor to leader, to family, to self. Many parts of own kind way, I teach to ponies. Parts of way I think bring ponies new strength. Other parts I keep to self.

“At same time, I learn about earth pony way. While I teach new way to earth ponies, I find I am also student of earth ponies. With time, I teach, and also learn, also change. I see ponies value touch and closeness more than own kind. I remember I never touch own kind again. I never see familiar places again. I never see family or friend again. I must face I never see any of own kind again. I am only one in pony land. Stories I hear from Puddinghoof say I am not first to come, but this does not change I am only one here.”

“Before I come to pony land, I was to marry daughter of a noble. I was to lead army of emperor against invaders to much hope. All of our land give respect and say I bring much honor.” Gezi paused for a steadying breath, his thumb brushing over the fur of her fetlock in slow strokes. “Now I must respect earth pony way. Respect wisdom of Lead Mare Puddinghoof making request that I accept female to lead and swallow pride. I not like that I now forbidden from giving discipline to a mare unless they first accept me as teacher for fighting or I lose respect among ponies. Some things are same with own kind. Many things are different. I have times when all I know is to not think. Just finish next lesson. Show next strike. Explain next piece of own kind knowledge. I will help earth ponies until I become old and have no more lessons. If this is all I see for rest of life, I will give service so earth ponies have better future.

“Earth pony way also show strength of herd. I see ponies value show of weakness with family and friend. That earth ponies not have fear of losing face when they ask others to help with burdens. This is much strange, different from own kind. Perhaps part of me is becoming like ponies. Grace…I not wish to carry this burden alone anymore…”

Quiet Grace held her friend closer with each word, feeling faint shudders running through him as she began to understand. He had lost all he had ever known, never to see his old life or his own kind again. He came from a place where males were the leaders, and much of his kind’s culture seemed almost backward or confused when compared to that of earth ponies. No matter what he had encountered among them, he respected everything he was presented with, asking for explanations when he simply could not understand. Though she had thought about it many times, it had always seemed more than she could grasp when she stopped to consider what it must be like for him.

And it was in that moment when she suddenly realized how truly, deeply alone it had made him feel.

Part of her wondered how he had dealt with it for two years in silence and only now it was weighing on him so visibly. Another part wondered how she had never realized the depth of it, that her dearest friend had been bearing such a burden alone, nuzzling her nose against the back of his neck with her eyes closed and breathing in his unique scent. She understood the kind of effort he just made, putting the way of his own kind aside and seeking another to help carry his burdens with him.

Her voice soft, “Gezi, I have told you before that it is not unusual among ponies for friends to sleep beside each other, particularly in the winter. You are my closest, most valued friend, and I will not leave you alone unless you ask. I will gladly help you carry your burdens every day for the rest of my life if you need me to. I know it is not the same, but I felt lonely before you came here. I am glad you are here with me. Other mares my age have all long since joined a herd, but I never fit in with others I met. If I am honest, I would not wish you away from me after you have become so dear to me.” She held him just a little tighter, struggling with how to express it to her friend when he did not always understand pony gestures.

The two of them sat there in silence for some time, Grace resting against his back, her nose buried against his neck and his hand holding her hoof.

Gradually, she felt the tension in him relax some and raised her head after a time, “Come and lay down. We still must sleep.”

Quiet Grace soon had him laying on his left side and, laying on her right, she shifted close to him so her body was flush with his, belly to belly with her forelegs wrapped around him, her hind legs stretched out along his own and her nose touching his, meeting his somewhat confused eyes at such a short distance as his arms wrapped around her in kind.

“Among earth ponies, this is a sign of closeness and trust.” Her voice still soft as her hoof brushed across his cheek. “It is usually only shared with family, not between friends. At least, not between a mare and a stallion. I do not wish you to feel alone, Gezi. I know I no longer feel alone since you have become my friend.”

Grace kept her eye gazing back at him, seeing his eyes carrying a mix of emotion so similar to a pony as his hand came up to cup her cheek. She felt his every breath drift across her mouth and lips, knowing he was feeling the same as they shared each breath. They stared at each other in silence for a long time in the dim light of the home they shared, the fading firelight throwing a few flickering shadows and occasional soft crackles around the room.

Before sleep claimed them, Quiet Grace saw that he looked more at peace.




***




A few months later…




Quiet Grace was walking along the road with Gezi on her right, their pace almost languid and the fall sun was a pleasant warmth on her back in the cool air.

It had become something of a habit for him to walk on her blind side, fingers at just the right place to graze the middle of her neck so she knew he was there at all times without either of them needing to speak. She had never mentioned it, but Grace had some suspicion he was, on some level at least, acting as her eye on that side. While her ears made it easy enough for her to compensate, the silent gesture was appreciated.

It had also done nothing to discourage the rumors she had heard from Puddinghoof about others in the village thinking well of the two of them herding together. Such rumors left Grace feeling thoughtful, wondering what Gezi thought of the idea, but never asking out of respect as he had never shown any signs himself. Although, with as close a friend as he had become and their living together, it was not really that different from how they were now. Perhaps she would ask him later in the evening after her next lesson in logistics and supply organization.

At present, having shared a midday meal, they were headed out to the training field for more exercises and active studies in combat tactics. It came as quite a surprise when Grace’s ears perked up at the sound of shouting voices.

When she came around the next corner, she saw a small crowd was starting to gather around the open smithy where Firm Anvil and Iron Hoof both could often be found. She realized it was their voices she heard, frowning as she picked up her pace. They did not sound the slightest bit pleasant.

“--ve to do it again because it’s still wrong! A mark doesn’t make you a master, fool! Now do it again and stop complaining, you limp-dicked back warmer!” came the angry voice of Firm Anvil and the large-bodied, middle-aged smith mare had a rather acidic tone.

“That’s the fourth time I’ve redone it and it looks just as fine as the first, you dirty-chested tail flipper!” Iron Hoof barked out with the same volume and tone, yelling right back as Grace neared the smithy.

Quiet Grace grit her teeth as they continued with various iterations of the same basic statements and insults, her frown deepening as she made her way through the growing crowd. She knew the pair were not unfamiliar with arguing with each other. Even in the face of Firm Anvil’s sharp disgust for having to teach a stallion her trade, and Iron Hoof’s youthfully impatient and overeager tendencies, not to mention his bloated pride over his mark, the two of them had generally accepted a tense but tolerant working relationship was best for the good of the communal herd. It didn’t alter the idea that this argument seemed to be the worst yet between the pair.

Her right ear twitched at the brief sound of knuckles popping, her aggravation with the pair’s frequent spats rising as she caught Gezi’s quiet response as he clenched his fists. She knew he’d remain silent and defer to her, but it was the one thing she knew of that actually angered him enough to show any outward reaction. Of course, blatant disrespect wasn’t something Grace was very fond of either.

Casting a sharp glance at one of the mares herded to Iron Hoof, catching her eye and making it clear she was to stay out of this, knowing it would just complicate things even worse. Grace had caught sight of her marching through the crowd to defend her stallion. She was well aware all four were getting fed up with Firm Anvil’s treatment of Iron Hoof.

Quiet Grace did not bother to restrain her ire as she cut into the ongoing shouting match with a shout of her own as she entered the smithy. “That’s enough out of both of you!”

The arguing pair glanced at her and back at each other, giving each other intense glares with bared teeth, but after a moment they at least shifted away from each other and held their tongues. If only just.

Giving a hard look at Iron Hoof before turning her gaze to the black-maned, ashen-coated muscular smith mare, Grace prepared herself for sorting out what happened as she spoke, “Explain, Anvil.”

The smith gave a snort, her gaze flicking back at Iron Hoof with a look of disgust before turning back to Grace. “Hmph… This fool keeps getting the heat wrong on the plow blade I had him making. Instead of doing it the right way, he keeps thinking the iron can take more heat than it should. Now the iron is going to be overworked from repeated attempts and has to be redone to get the balance back so it won’t be brittle and break during use, or end up too soft. I refuse to let a piece of trash come out of my smithy.”

Grace eyed her for a moment before speaking, “Did you explain as much to Iron Hoof?”

“I’ve taught him the same thing enough times already! I can’t be explaining the same crap every time he messes something up because he will not wait for the right time to act.”

Her eye narrowed as her scowl deepened, staring down the taller smith mare, “That is not what I asked, Anvil. Did you or did you not actually say that to him?”

Firm Anvil growled, her tail giving an angry lash, “I shouldn’t have to…but, no.”

She held the smith’s eyes for a long moment before Grace turned to look at the even larger Iron Hoof, finding him wearing a faintly smug expression he wasn’t trying very hard to hide and had to restrain the urge to snap at the prideful young stallion.

After a moment to restrain the urge, she spoke, “Explain, Iron Hoof.”

“The plow blade is fine. Anvil yells at me for the slightest imperfections or differences from the way she wants it done. I know when to quench the iron. She just wants me to waste my time doing it over and over for no reason. I’ve made plow blades before and this one is strong enough for the fields already.”

Quiet Grace eyed him, thinking for a moment before speaking again, “Very well. If it’s strong, it can be proven with a test easily enough.” She turned to her companion, “Gezi, I know you are familiar with the basics of metalworking. Can you test the iron for brittleness?”

Gezi gave her a nod, then grabbed the plow blade and a hammer before setting it on the anvil. The hammer rang out as it struck down on the iron plow blade near one end once, then a second time, and Gezi paused. He lifted the plow blade to look more closely.

He turned to look at Grace with his usual neutral expression, “Iron is brittle. Will break if I strike again. Can still fix if careful with heat.”

Iron Hoof growled, sounding insulted, “There is nothing wrong with it! You’re just saying that to try and make me look bad, you furless outsider!”

For a moment, Grace was sorely tempted to slap Iron Hoof across the muzzle. His pride had slowly grown worse as he learned more about crafting in various forms. His mark of a smith’s hammer, seeming to signify his ability to build whatever he could think of, was not doing much to help him learn humility. He was already seventeen and his body still seemed to be growing in size, yet his foolish pride scarcely fit inside his own swollen head.

Though tempted to do so, Grace knew she didn’t need to defend Gezi. She was all too aware insults meant nothing to him, and in more physical matters, his ability to turn his opponent’s momentum against them was unrivaled, making raw strength a poor choice against him. Instead, she watched his neutral expression remain unchanged as he turned slightly, then slapped the plow blade against the anvil. The end snapped off right around the same point Gezi had struck it with the hammer.

“Iron is brittle. Now need more work to fix.” Gezi said in a calm tone that conveyed no further discernible emotions, though Grace noticed he was tensing as he kept a close eye on Iron Hoof, seeming to expect more than words as he made a subtle shift in stance.

Quiet Grace didn’t feel like watching Iron Hoof put himself through a much more direct lesson in humility by attacking Gezi and likely earning himself a broken leg. While it might help the stallion pull his head out of his own plot, he would not be available to attend his other jobs when winter was fast approaching.

Cutting him off before he could even start, Grace barked sharply, “There’s your proof, Iron Hoof! You messed up your work on that plow blade! For today, go home. You need to get over yourself before you wind up in real trouble, colt. Get going!”

Iron Hoof turned to face her and looked furious. For several seconds he seemed ready to lash out, but then slowly backed down as both his ears and head lowered. His features changed to shame as he walked out of the smithy soon after, his wife giving Grace a nod with an embarrassed look before she went to his side and left with him. The gathered crowd began to disperse as he left.

Taking a moment for a slow breath, she caught Gezi’s eye and he gave her a calm nod that all was fine with him, then turned to face Firm Anvil.

Grace spoke in a frustrated tone, “You need to stop taking out your bitterness on him, Anvil. I am aware of what happened to your husband Evergreen. Iron Hoof is still young and needs to get over himself, true, but you aren’t helping matters by constantly antagonising him.”

For a moment, the grumpy smith mare seemed to look several years older at the mention of the name as she looked away, her ears and tail seeming to droop lifelessly before she huffed and perked back up. Anvil whirled around and started setting up for another smithing job that needed doing, but as she raised a hammer to start, it came down slow until she was leaning on the workbench, unable to raise her eyes as Grace stepped closer.

The smith’s voice had a hollow strength in it, the kind of tone used by one putting up a front to sound solid but really wasn’t underneath. “If he’d just stayed in the damned fields and pulled a plow like a proper stallion, not been going off in the woods all the time because of that Tartarus-damned forest mark of his, he’d still be here. He wouldn’t have been caught by those manticores. Fifteen years since that idiot ran off saying he was going to pick some flowers for his wives and never came home. Since he left me with a shattered fellow wife in Autumn Step that couldn’t stand having just me left, giving up the moment she got sick. When he was the same age, Evergreen was a lot like Iron Hoof. Proud and stupid. Sometimes, it’s like seeing a twin or son of my husband…” Then Firm Anvil snorted and rolled her shoulders, her voice hardening again as her hammer raised up and, with a practiced drop of the tool onto the metal before her, she set to work straightening the piece before it would meet the flame, Teng! “When that colt comes back tomorrow,” Teng! “I’ll have him keep working on the plow blade,” Teng! “Until he does it properly,” Teng! “And make sure I repeat myself,” Teng! “When he’s doing something wrong.” Teng! “All that talent, and his own pride is his biggest problem.” Teng! “Unless you need something else, I have work to do.” Teng!

She had just been a filly when Anvil’s husband Evergreen was killed. Then the smith lost her sole fellow wife to illness the following winter a few months later. From what Puddinghoof had said, Anvil had become a bitter, stallion-hating but staunchly pragmatic mare that lost herself in her work as much as possible ever since.

As the steady beat of hammer strikes sounded, Grace knew there was nothing else she could say, silently turning around and leaving the smithy with Gezi at her side.

At that moment, Grace realized Firm Anvil was never going to change for the rest of her days.





***





The following day found Quiet Grace and Gezi standing beside Lead Mare Puddinghoof in the mountain pass most often used to travel in and out of the valley relative to known settled lands. Under different circumstances, the peaceful clearing surrounded by pine trees would have been both beautiful and relaxing. Today, it was a place they had to make a decision.

A runner from one of the recruiting parties had come the previous evening, saying that while they succeeded in convincing a village to come join them, there was a problem they did not know how to approach. Having been instructed to use their own judgement for anything unexpected, they had felt it best to lead the village back and present the matter to Lead Mare Puddinghoof and Militia Leader Quiet Grace to make a final decision, rather than risk the village refusing to join them. They needed many to join them for the kind of future they envisioned or they would never succeed. This was the last of the four recruiting parties to return, and the only success, though it was better than their expectation of none at all the first year of trying.

The problem was that the village was refusing to abandon a stallion.

A unicorn stallion.

So there the three of them stood, a large portion of the valley militia, all of whom were also Gezi’s fighting students, spread out around the edge of the meeting point and holding their crossbows lowered as they watched the unicorn stallion and an earth mare walking towards them.

Grace tried to keep her face impassive as she studied the markless stallion as he approached, limping and favoring a hind leg. He kept himself pressed against the earth mare walking beside him, which was a bit strange. She didn’t know what to make of him, or why he kept his ears flat against his head, which he also kept low and leaning into the earth mare. Nor could she fathom why he wore a look of such naked fear.

When they stopped a short distance away and Quiet Grace had a chance to look him over from nearby, she saw something that stunned her.

Hidden by his pale yellow coat at a distance, she saw signs of numerous scars and marks on his face, on his head, across his body and legs. Half of his folded right ear was missing. He had many signs of who knew how many countless beatings, scars that crossed other scars. She knew unicorns could be brutal against earth ponies, but to do that much to one of their own stallions?

Then Grace recalled some of the subversive games she had heard of that unicorns had used, the utter lack of limits they could have just to enjoy a convoluted game of intrigue with living pawns…

And the fact it was her job to look after the safety and lives of every pony in their valley home.

If a group of unicorns came after them right now, they would likely lose the valley in short order. And with it, perhaps their only chance at developing the strength to stand against them.

Quiet Grace knew she couldn’t afford to let herself be blind out of pity, just in case the stallion was nothing more than a complex ploy. She just hoped she had the mental fortitude to make a clear decision after some time to get a feel for the stallion, and whether or not he was intended to find their valley for another party.

Lead Mare Puddinghoof addressed the mare that came forward with the unicorn stallion, a frown on her face as she inquired, “I am the lead mare of this valley and my name is Puddinghoof. I understand many in your village were ready to refuse our invitation because of this stallion beside you, be it directly or indirectly. Will you explain why?”

The blue-green mare with soft gray eyes and a gold and gray striped mane flicked her eyes at Gezi for a second with a wary look before turning back to Puddinghoof, pausing to nuzzle the stallion with gentle affection before replying, “I act as a fishermare, food preserver and cook for my village. My name is Sea Stride. Simply put, because he’s been through enough hardship. I have also recently claimed him as my own stallion while trying to help him recover. He’s very sweet and kind when he feels safe. We earth ponies take care of our own, and he is one of us now in every way that matters.”

Quiet Grace spoke up after a second to think, keeping her expression calm even as she met the mare’s eyes with a firm look, “I am both the militia leader and healer of this valley. My name is Quiet Grace. If we are going to genuinely consider permitting him into our valley, I need to talk with him separate from you. Safety of this valley is my duty, and I know how underhoofed unicorns can sometimes be with both their own and ours, just because they can. This is not optional. Wait with the rest of your village while we meet with him.”

Sea Stride returned the look, unhappy but unwilling to argue and nodded after a moment in understanding. “That is a rather strange pairing of duties. I respect your requirement. From some of the stories he has told me, I honestly wish I didn’t know what you mean. Please try to be gentle though. Starlight is very easily spooked and could potentially be defensive to a dangerous level if he is threatened enough, though he is doing better than when he stumbled into our village begging for mercy almost a year ago now. And if a unicorn mare named Frost Bolt ever finds him, she fully intends to murder him.”

Quiet Grace didn’t react outwardly, but she felt a flash of anger as her ruined eye twinged at the name.

“He doesn’t like me to talk about it, so I leave it to him if he wants to tell you why.” The mare sighed and nuzzled the skittish stallion again, her voice gentle, “You just be honest with them, Starlight. I won’t be far away, but I do need to leave you with them for a bit. I’m sure they will welcome you after having a chance to know you. Sit down and remember to take deep breaths. Everything will be alright.”

The unicorn stallion named Starlight let out a quiet whimper as he started shaking, his ears trying to sink further into his head as he sat on his haunches and hid his closed eyes beneath his pale blue mane, seeming to focus on his tremulous breathing. As Sea Stride walked back to where the rest of her village was collected together, he seemed to shrink with the quiet sound of every step.

Grace glanced at Puddinghoof and caught her eye, then Gezi’s. All three of them were thinking the same thing. He might be more dangerous than we can permit. It was one more factor they had to to consider. Even if he wasn’t part of some plan, they had to determine if he might be a threat all on his own for different reasons entirely. As the three of them had already talked over options and possibilities, Grace knew she had their support and the final say.

There would be some opposition to letting a unicorn live among them as it was, if they chose to allow him in. A discreet set of motions with her ears, Grace signaled the crossbowmares surrounding them to keep their eyes sharp and weapons ready, with the faintest clicks and creaks of adjustment reaching her ears in response. It was a set of sounds none from beyond their valley would have heard before, hopefully making the full threat of their weapons unrecognized to the stallion. She wasn’t taking any chances around a unicorn, even if her initial impression tugged at her sympathy.

Upon seeing Puddinghoof give her a nod, Grace got started with her questions, conflicted over dealing with a unicorn versus seeing a stallion in such a terrible state. “I suppose we should start with asking why you bear so many scars and how you came to reside in an earth pony village, Starlight. Tell us your story and we will go from there. Please tell us the truth and hide nothing. We have to understand you more if we are to allow you into our valley.”

The stallion trembled as he tried to keep his breathing measured, not opening his eyes at all, taking several deep breaths before speaking in a wavering voice, “I-I come from a unicorn n-noble family. M-my name is Sparkling S-starlight. My story is n-not a nice story. A f-few years ago, I was t-told I was going to m-marry a noblemare named I-ice B-bolt. I was b-bred and trained for m-making a wife look good, and m-m-my T-t-tartarus c-cursed magic strength p-prepared to impress guests with a full m-magic education. A p-proper noble-born unicorn stallion brings his f-family a good p-price when he comes of age, a-and I was w-worth a lot for my family when it c-came time to bid on my arranged m-marriage. A s-stallion of my g-grade is a rare p-p-prize.

“Lady Ice B-bolt won me. She had h-helped arrange the f-founding of the new city of Dancing Sun six years ago. She n-needed to replace her l-last husband after he d-d-died…” Starlight stopped to focus on his breathing again, showing signs of growing panic before he calmed himself back to merely shaking.

Quiet Grace narrowed her eye with concern at this, her mouth making a tight line. She did not like seeing him this quick to panic just from telling his story. Not when she already heard he could get dangerously defensive, or when his own admission said he had strong magic. She also had a suspicion she knew how this Lady Ice Bolt’s previous husband died. Regardless, Grace would hear him out, though  her gut was telling her this was going to get very bad soon.

Starlight forced himself to carry on with his tale, his eyes still closed as he continued, “I d-did everything m-my wife and m-mistress demanded of me. I-I was ch-chosen as a t-trophy husband to show off the w-wealth of L-lady Ice Bolt. To imp-p-press her guests with m-my m-magic s-s-strength and s-skill. If anything w-went wrong, she m-made sure t-t-to c-correct me… I had t-to wear an illusion so I-I still l-l-looked unblemished a-after I w-was c-c-corrected the first few t-times after we m-married.”

He was breathing faster, appearing unable to stop it now as he began to talk faster, “M-most every day, she g-gave me at least a s-small c-c-correction. Sometimes, when sh-she m-made me attempt h-hard m-m-magic and I f-f-failed her, the c-c-corrections lasted over an hour. Other t-times she used m-me as en-en-entert-t-tainment for h-her angry friends! To t-t-teach her d-daughter F-frost Bolt how to c-c-control a stallion!”

Grace took half a step back in alarm as she saw Starlight’s horn starting to glow as he began to panic outright, her left ear dropping back and her mares aimed their weapons at him immediately. She didn’t know much about magic, but she had heard some rumors about unicorns going out of control and the havoc they could unleash. One twitch of her right ear now and her mares would release their bolts into him as she watched him spiraling, growing louder as he went.

“She was p-playing a game with her daughter! Seeing who could make me cry out loudest! I just wanted it to stop! I didn’t mean it! I didn’t want to surge like that!” Starlight was screaming now as tears ran down his cheeks, sinking down to his belly and covering his face with his forelegs, his horn glowing brighter with every passing second. “I don’t remember what I did! I just wanted it to stop! I was trying to be a good husband! I don’t know what I did! I woke up and there were pieces everywhere! I sent her daughter through a wall! So much was red and lumpy around me! I just wanted her to stop!”

As he shrieked and the glow of his horn seemed to shift into a new state, brighter than ever as it seemed to be trying to rival the sun’s light coming down from above in a way, Grace prepared to drop her right ear and put him out of his misery for the safety of all present. She hated coming to that conclusion, to see cause to end a life for the first time, but perhaps it was the best for him in the end, after what he had been through. Though Gezi had already warned her how hard it would be to take a life, she felt her heart was about to break. She swallowed, telling herself she would bear it fully by not looking away when she gave the signal.

Then something grazed her cheek as her whole world seemed to come to a near stop, her left eye widening, and she saw something that transformed her perspective entirely when a white dove brushed past her.

It was only moments in time as the dove made three rapid circuits around the tortured stallion and flew out of sight again, but most of her fear of him lashing out evaporated as her left ear raised back up, more out of surprise than intent at first.

Quiet Grace knew right away if she were to ask, not one other pony would have seen the dove, just like none had seen the one that landed upon her back when her destiny mark appeared. Neither Gezi nor Puddinghoof had seen it that day, and they were right there when it happened in front of the whole village. For whatever reason, it was a sign for Grace alone to witness the dove’s appearance.

According to the legends she had read, those that witnessed the dove appear at great moments of life saw her three times when guidance or a sign was needed in some way, most often at the start of a great journey or task. They were the ones chosen by the greatest of the gods, Mother of Life, and her mate, Father of the World, for important tasks that could be grand or humble in appearance, yet always heralded the start of a great change. She didn’t know why she could ever be one of those chosen, just that there was no turning back for her now. Her conviction before was still marred by doubt that they might never truly gather the strength, that sooner or later something would happen to take it all away again like always.

Now, Quiet Grace knew they could succeed, no matter how long it took.

She also somehow knew she would never see the dove appear before her again for the rest of her days.

Grace swallowed her remaining fear as she stepped closer to Starlight with a determined look, the world around her appearing to start moving again as her mind cleared, somepony calling out for her to back away from him before he killed her.

As the stallion gave an anguished, rising wail, she touched her hoof to his head and stroked along his mane. The light of his horn slowly began to dim as he broke down into a sobbing mess, her hoof continuing to make gentle strokes.

Once his horn had stopped glowing, Grace looked up to the two mares that were physically restraining Sea Stride and motioned for them to let her approach. The mare galloped over and all but dove to Starlight’s side, hauling him into an embrace and he immediately curled into her as he cried. With a touch of her hoof to get Sea Stride’s attention after a minute, Grace gave a slow nod, seeing relief mix in with the anguish in the blue-green mare’s weeping gray eyes.

Some time later, when the damaged stallion had quieted down to soft whimpers, Grace cleared her throat to get Sea Stride’s attention again. “I really did not expect all of that from asking about his history. In truth, when he began to light his horn in such a manner, I was very close to putting him down but something made me take a chance he wouldn’t lash out in a blind panic. He may stay in our valley, though I have a couple of conditions I require.

“The first, he is never left alone at any time. You, or another you trust with him, is to be present at all times, day or night. No exceptions. Second, when he goes anywhere in the valley until further notice, one of the militia mares must be next to him unless otherwise arranged. I don’t make the second for our sakes, but for his own. You know some will argue over a unicorn’s presence, and I am placing him under my personal protection as a result until such time as I see it is no longer necessary.”

Sea Stride sniffled as she hugged Starlight a little tighter and nodded, her voice strained from concern for the stallion, “I’ve already tried to make sure he is never left alone. Sometimes the memories come up without warning. He’s been absolutely terrified of hurting another pony ever since it happened, and I really don’t think he could hurt another even if he tried anymore, outside of moments like what you just saw. Thank you so much for allowing him to stay.”

“You’re welcome, though I would still like to know how he found his way to your village,” Quiet Grace inquired as the situation with Starlight slowly calmed down.

“From what he has told me, he somehow found his way at his youngest sister’s door in the city not long after, and she was the one that got him out of the city. Not every unicorn is arrogant and cruel. I understand she actually treats her earth pony servants like family behind closed doors. Starlight said an earth mare saved his sister’s life when she was a filly, despite lacking magic to fight some creature off. She never forgot that, even though she has noble blood herself. Beyond that, I really don’t know how he ended up stumbling into our village in early winter just as the snows began, but our lead mare heard part of his previous life and granted him a place with us. I was chosen to watch over him at first, as I lived at the far edge of the village,” Sea Stride explained.

“We found out a little later that Frost Bolt was looking for him. We were lucky when she came to our village, as he was asleep in my hut by the lake at the time. After learning more, we decided that I could keep him hidden and our village would never turn him in. It isn’t hard to imagine what would happen if he was caught. Fortunately, our village was far from the city like yours was, according to your scouts, so the unicorns did not visit often. There is not much else to tell beyond my attempts to help him heal each day, and our village agreeing to come join you.”

Grace nodded, looking at the silently quivering stallion, a thought crossing her mind before she spoke, “Starlight?”

He looked a mess, sniffling as he opened his bloodshot teal eyes and gave her a nervous look, still quivering from everything that happened, both minutes earlier and past events. Not once had he raised his ears the entire time Grace had been watching him.

Moving a little closer, Quiet Grace laid herself down on the ground with him, then stretched her neck out and slowly nuzzled his cheek before pulling back to give him a look of compassion.

“I can’t promise life is perfect here, and it will take time for you to be accepted by those that can do so, but I can promise to do all I am able to see that you’re safe from now on. Earth ponies can shoulder any burden, even yours, if you let us, and I do not care that you are a unicorn. You’re home now, and we all deserve to feel safe when we’re home.”