//------------------------------// // Chapter Twenty Six - A Lonely Decision // Story: Ice Fall // by Bluespectre //------------------------------//     CHAPTER TWENTY SIX   A LONELY DECISION   Lord Ochre sat in the throne room, his head in his hooves. What had he done? What had gone wrong? One minute it was all there: the throne, the country, everything! And the next thing he knew, he’d been betrayed by everypony around him. That…that damned peasant…what was his name again? Dray? He sneered. It was a fitting name for a glorified farm labourer, a simpleton who couldn’t follow even the most basic of plans. Ochre began tapping his hind leg irritably. Why had he trusted him? Why?! Just because the old fool had ‘some’ military experience didn’t mean he somehow knew how to command an entire army! He banged his head back against the headrest of the throne. Of course, everypony knew who was really to blame here, didn’t they? It was that bloody stupid bitch Celestia and her magical trickery. In reality she was nothing more than a cheap conjuror, a sideshow charlatan fleecing bits from the gullible and weak of mind. He knew what she was like though, oh yes! He’d seen through her pitiable attempts at court machinations long ago, and it would take a hell lot more than that get past him! Ochre nodded to himself…yes, it would take a lot more to outfox the master of the hunt.   The Lord tossed his mane, snatching up a goblet of wine. His was a hard world, a hard life, more so than anypony but those who were born into the same social circles could even possibly attempt to comprehend. One had to make decisions, difficult decisions, but all of them necessary, regardless of how ‘primitive’ the methods employed sometimes had to be. He slammed the empty goblet back on the tray, waving for the servant. Servant… He looked over his shoulder. Where was the bloody fool? Pah! No matter, she could be replaced. They could all be replaced.   There was a loud knocking on the doors to the throne room and a white coated, silver armoured pony entered and bowed,   “My Lord, the envoy is here to speak to you.”   “Ah! Excellent!” Ochre called out happily waving a hoof, “Send them in, please!”   The guard bowed and disappeared back into the corridor. Moments later, the doors were opened wide and the dark shape of a pony like creature entered. Ochre’s eyes went wide in both anticipation and fascination. What truly remarkable creatures! His gaze took it all in, from the deep purple mane, the oil black coat to the shining black hooves. The creature looked thin too, almost skeletal in fact, with its bones showing up as if it were emaciated, although there was still a surprising look of…’power’ about the beast that more than made up for it. Complementing the overall appearance, the thestral walking towards him rustled its large dragon like wings, its eyes burning like two small yellow bonfires and displaying an array of sharp teeth that curled up out of the back of its mouth and over its top lip. Interestingly, the thestral was wearing a long white robe embroided with the symbol of their master - a large crescent moon, white upon a background of black clouds.   Ochre could feel his ears twitching as the ‘thing’ drew nearer. Dear goddesses, this didn’t look like a pony at all! It was more like…like a demon from the depths of hell! He swallowed, trying not to let his nervousness show, but he kept his eyes locked onto the strange creature nonetheless. It halted at the bottom of the steps a respectful distance away, and bowed. Ochre’s eyes stared at the thin whisps of smoke trickling from the creature’s nostrils. Were they part dragon? He’d heard they could breath fire in battle and…those ears! Those weren’t ears, they were horns! Long, thin pointed things…   Swallowing, Ochre began to fidget nervously. Suddenly this wasn’t starting to look like such a good idea after all, but what choice did he have? No…no, he had made his decision and it was the right decision. Yes, a good decision.   “Lord Ochre of Equestria, I bring greetings from her most divine majesty, the goddess of the night and true ruler of Equestria, her royal highness Nightmare Moon.”   Ochre’s heart was hammering fit to burst. Good goddesses, that voice! The thing was speaking to him certainly, but the words seemed to somehow bypass his ears and materialise directly in his head. He took a breath, forcing a smile on his face,   “And I return those greetings to her divine majesty and bid you welcome to my court.”   The thestral bowed again, “Her most divine majesty has instructed me to provide you with a list of terms which she requests you read. Once you have done so, I shall return to her divinity with your reply.”   “What…now?” Ochre stammered, “I need time to read them!”   The thestral removed a scroll from its pannier and tossed it to Ochre who caught it in his magic. He broke the seal and unfurled it. It was, rather unsurprisingly, in exceptionally neat if rather archaic hoofwriting. He knew then, that this had been written by Nightmare Moon herself, the once much beloved princess of the night. Lord Ochre cleared his throat and began to read. His eye twitched involuntarily as he took in and absorbed each word, every sentence, the gravity and finality of it all finally dawning on him. He finally reached the end and lowered the scroll. Dear goddesses, that was it then…it was over…it was all finally over.   The stallion reached his hoof out for his wine, remembering too late that he had ‘removed’ most of the staff for insubordination or incompetence. Good help, so hard to find in this useless place, had proven to be such a rare commodity he’d been reduced to fending for himself. Now, to add insult to such a flagrant injury against a pony of his standing, he’d been left with the unimaginable task of responding to the ‘terms’ of this upstart, the younger sister of Celestia, this…Nightmare Moon.   Ochre took a deep breath, “My guards will show you to your room,” he closed his eyes, “you will have my answer in the morning.”   The thestral didn’t move, it just stood there and stared at him, the wisps of  smoke seeping out from between its teeth as it spoke,   “Her divine majesty requires an answer tonight.”   “TONIGHT?!” Ochre choked, “I can’t make a decision tonight without consulting with anypony first! Are you mad?”   The thestral watched him impassively, “You are the Lord of Equestria, regent in place of Celestia, are you not? Have I misunderstood this?”   “No! No, you haven’t.” Ochre sputtered, holding up a hoof, “Your…’terms’ are quite ‘involved’ and I need time to properly read them before I can provide you with an informed response.”   The thestral nodded slowly, “Her divine majesty explained that you may wish to have time to consider this, however you will need to decide quickly.”   Ochre’s brow drew down, “Why?”   The black coated creature bowed slightly, “Her divinity shall be arriving within the hour.”   “Wh…What?! She’s coming here? Nightmare Moon?” Sweat broke out on Ochre’s forehead.   “Indeed,” the thestral replied calmly, “truly a great honour.”   Ochre’s stomach cramped up painfully; he felt like he was going to be sick at any moment. The self proclaimed ‘goddess’, this Nightmare Moon, was coming here? Tonight? When he thought about it, it didn’t seem that surprising really, she was after all little more than Princess Luna in another guise…wasn’t she? But…what about all those strange and brutal looking creatures she surrounded herself with? And these ‘terms’! These weren’t terms, they were demands! All of them…   The Regent leaned back in his chair and fanned his face, the bile rising in his throat a sure sign of another of his anxiety attacks coming one. He waved a hoof at the thestral messenger,   “See yourself out. I shall have my answer for her divine majesty ready for when she arrives.”   The thestral bowed, “As you say, Lord Ochre”   With a heavy thud, the doors closed, leaving Ochre alone in the large empty throne room, alone except for his thoughts, and those he could certainly do without right now. For the first time in his life, he wasn’t sure what to do, nor, he realised with a sudden cold wash of realisation, did he have anypony he could trust to discuss these matters with. Not that it really mattered of course, he’d already made up his mind some time ago, but to see it there in black and white, so…formal, everything suddenly seemed to carry so much more weight than it once had. No, he couldn’t start second guessing himself now, he had to get a grip of the situation and ensure that this ‘Nightmare Moon’ creature was made to see just who the real power was in Equestria. Yes…yes, it would work out…very nicely. He grinned to himself, staring at the door…yes, very nicely indeed.   *************************************   The Colonel stifled a yawn. He hated these sorts of occasions with a passion; they were just so…boring. He was a stallion of action, of drive, not sitting about in formal settings listening to blasted politicians droning on and on about absolute bloody drivel. He stretched his neck surreptitiously, hoping that her divinity wouldn’t catch him doing it and berate him later. She was very ‘straight laced’ about certain things and formal settings was one of them, or so it appeared. This ‘Lord Ochre’ though struck him as nothing more than a buffoon of the highest order, but with a nasty streak which would probably go some way to explaining the distinct lack of any other diplomat or official here. That in itself had his hackles up.   Nightmare Moon and the Lord had been talking for some time. No, make that ‘a very long time’. Fulminata could feel another yawn coming on and closed his eyes trying to suppress it. By the goddess, why wouldn’t this end? If there was a hell, then he could picture it being like this…one endless meeting, with incessant points and counter points. But worst of all, just when you thought it was about to finish, when every single person in the room thought it was over too, some imbecile would suddenly realise they had yet another point to raise after all, one so important it had to be discussed right then and there. He sighed, a small curl of smoke rising up from his muzzle and dissipating into the cool air of the vastness of the throne room. Fulminata’s mind was wandering in all directions, desperate to distract himself from nodding off while the goddess and that stuck up twit droned away incessantly. Come to think of it, why did a throne room need to be so big? The halls back in the Beyond were a fraction of the size and they sufficed. But not so in Equestria apparently, where bigger and better meant you were somebody, or some’pony’, he supposed. Bloody aristocrats, and bloody ponies too…useless, bloody…   “Colonel?”   Oh goddess! His mind had wandered away so much he’d not been paying any attention to the fact the interminable negotiations had finally come to an end!   “Your divinity” He bowed politely, silently cursing himself.   Nightmare Moon stared at him with her depthless eyes,   “Would you like to add anything at this point?”   “No, your divinity, I believe all relevant points have been most thoroughly covered.” Fulminata winced slightly at the tone of sarcasm that had inadvertently slipped in.   The goddess’s lip curled up almost imperceptibly,   “Quite…”   She turned back to Lord Ochre,   “Very well, Lord Ochre. I am pleased that we have been able to reach an understanding.” She raised an eyebrow, “You shall be appointed Chancellor and be directly answerable to me. As we discussed, Colonel Fulminata shall take charge of the disarming of the Celestian armed forces and couriers will be despatched to all the villages, towns and cities of Equestria informing them of the good news.”   Lord Ochre bowed, “Good news, indeed your divine majesty.”   “Yes…” The midnight coated mare turned to her servant, the white cloaked thestral who had delivered the ‘terms’ earlier. The creature trotted forward, laying down a document and quill. It bowed and then backed away. “You will find everything in order,” The goddess said in her heavy formal tone, “all you need do, is sign.”   Ochre lifted the quill in his magic, dipping the tip into the inkwell and paused. The gravity of what he was about to do suddenly reared its head. Did he really want to do this? To sign everything away, to change thousands of years of Equestrian history with the stroke of a quill? He hung his head a moment. What choice did he really have? Nightmare Moon, the Legion…they’d simply walked right in. His removal of the army hierarchy, rather than helping shift their loyalty to him as it should have, had been like pulling the plug from a bath tub; all the troops had simply…drained away…   “Is something the matter?” The goddess narrowed her eyes, lifting her hoof slightly.   Ochre shook his head, “No…” he quickly signed the paper before his conscience sentenced him to a swift beheading, “No, everything is fine you divine majesty.”   Lord Ochre stood, holding the scroll before him and cleared his throat,   “I hearby declare as newly appointed Chancellor of Equestria, that with immediate effect, all Celestian armed forces are to disband and surrender their weapons to the nearest Legion post. Any and all resistance is to cease immediately and all citizens are to co-operate with Legion instructions fully, and in line with the directions of her most divine majesty, goddess of the night, her royal higness, Nightmare Moon.”   And that was that. With such a simple act, that single fluid motion of a quill, Ochre surrendered the country of his birth, his home…their home…to the forces of the night. Nightmare Moon. He blinked away a stray tear as he stared at the document…dear Celestia, what had he done?   Nightmare Moon lifted the document away in her magic and floated it over to the white cloaked thestral. With a deep sigh she closed her eyes and spread her wings, the ponies, minotaurs and thestrals around her bowing before their goddess. The midnight coated alicorn lifted her voice and laughed, a light lilting sound that grew in intensity until it became as thunder crashing down around them. Through the window, lightning flashed as if in answer to its mistress’ call. The floor shook, the walls and columns shuddered, the entire castle trembling with the triumphant goddess’ voice rolling out as she ascended the stairs to the twin thrones,   “And so…” she said in her deep timbre, “the night has come at last, my children. One and all, every pony, every thestral, minotaur and griffin…all the creatures of Equestria, shall come to know and understand the power and majesty of their true princess, their goddess. From this day forth, the reign of Nightmare Moon shall bring forth a new era, an era of truth, order and justice for one and all. For who can truly worship the day and ignore the night? From now on, all ponies shall truly know my beloved night and experience its eternal beauty and magnificent form as much as they have the day. From now on, until the end of time, the magnificence of the Equestrian night shall last….FOREVER!”   *****************************   Bracken pushed his way through the throng of ponies standing outside the tavern. Something was going on, but it was of little interest to him, he was supposed to be at the clinic to see Chalky and he’d bloody well overslept hadn’t he? Goddesses, that bloody bar mare was supposed to have woken him up hours ago! And where was she? Probably out here with the rest of them milling around the latest news bulletin from the capital. Big deal! Bracken had a sudden thought: what if the Doctor had been caught up in all this palaver too? He picked up his pace and dodged his way past yet more excited ponies until he reached the bright green wooden door of the clinic.   The Doctor was in,   “Ah, Mister Bracken, please…come in.”   Bracken scrubbed his hooves on the coconut matting which had been rather neatly interwoven with the word, ‘Welcome’ in large letters. The Doctor certainly had a way of making you feel comfortable alright. The slim stallion lead Bracken through to another part of the clinic he hadn’t seen before, and the first thing that hit him as he walked in was an almost blindingly white light. No… not light, just incredibly bright white walls, white curtains, even white sheets…goddesses above! He needed sunglasses just to be able to see to put one hoof in front of the other in here! Come to think of it, how was he going to find a white unicorn? Fortunately, the good Doctor came to the rescue, leading him with unerring accuracy to the smiling form of an all too familiar equine, currently stuffing himself with what looked like tea, jam smothered toast and reading a book, ‘The Crystal Empire – Myth and Reality, by Lint Beige.’   “Bloody good read, Brack” Chalk exclaimed around a mouthful of half chewed toast, “Doc say’s I can borrow it too.” He scrunched up his face, swallowing a mouthful of his breakfast, “You okay, dude?”   Bracken lunged forward, grabbing the white unicorn in a powerful embrace. Tears stung his eyes as he held his friend, the one who he thought he would be burying not so many hours ago. Chalk laughed,   “Hey! Gerroff will ya? You’re suffocating me here!”   “You…you bloody, stupid, arse!” Bracken choked, “Don’t you ever scare me like that again, you hear?”   “Pfff! You want to hear yourself! I was stuck in that boat with you droning on for bloody hours about that flaming Pickles and,” Chalk rolled his eyes, “how ‘soft her fur was’. Talk about about being tortured! Good grief! I wish my ears had been bloody well paralyzed too.”   Doctor Alright shook his head, “I’ve spoken to both of you now about the matter of burnout. Just remember Mister Dust what we said, and practice those exercises I taught you too, yes?”   “You got it, Doc.” Chalk smiled around another bite of his toast, “I’ll be on my best behaviour”.   “Huh!” Bracken snorted, shoving his friend with his hoof, “I’ve heard that before.”   “It’s no joke, gentlecolts”, the Doctor said, passing Chalk his cloak, “The next time, could be your last. Most unicorns recover, Chalky, but you seem to have the ability to go from a state of magical neutrality to hyper exertion almost instantaneously. Useful, I’ll grant you, but if you keep doing it…”   “-Yeah, I got it, don’t worry.” Chalk finished the last of his breakfast and jumped down from the bed as if the last couple of days had simply never happened. “What do we owe you, Doc?”   The Doctor shook his head, “Nothing. I’m always happy to help ex-service ponies. Used to be one myself back in my youth.” He gave a mirthless laugh, “I’m damned glad that was before all this Legion business though.”   “Speaking of which,” Bracken said scratching his head, “something’s going on in town. The billboard has…”   The door banged open, followed by a rush of hoofsteps. A flustered mare charged into the room, gasping for air,   “Doctor Alright!”   “What? What is it? Is somepony hurt?” The Doctor exclaimed in alarm.   “No! No, it’s…” the mare took a deep breath, her eyes wide with excitement, “The war…it’s over! It’s finally over!”   Chalk and Bracken looked at each other in shock, and as one, charged for the door pausing only to shout back their thanks to the Doctor. As they ran, neither of them spoke, desperate only to reach the town notice board to see for themselves. The ponies gathered there earlier had mostly dispersed or were stood about in shock. Bracken reached the notice first, reading it aloud in gasps as he tried to catch his breath. He got to the end of proclamation and shook his head in disbelief. No, that couldn’t be right…he’d have to read it again. But no matter how many times he stared at it, he kept seeing the same name at the bottom,   Her Royal Highness, Nightmare Moon.   Beside him, Chalk stared at the notice in silence, his wide eyed stare echoing the blank expressions of the ponies around them. Nopony seemed to know what to do, or say. Nightmare Moon, had…won? Bracken shook his head, he knew they hadn’t been doing well, the disaster at River Valley had shown all too well the horrendous deficiencies in the Celestian army against a determined, experienced and organised foe, so it wasn’t really that much of a surprise in some ways but…dear goddesses…that meant that Celestia really had…   He didn’t want to think of it.   Around the two ponies, mares and stallions alike sat around in shock, some crying, others mumbling to themselves incoherently. The whole town had sunk into a morass of fear and uncertainty that felt like a powderkeg in a lightning storm. Bracken gave himself a shake and grabbed Chalk,   “Come on, let’s grab our gear and get out of here. I want to get home as quick as I can.”   Chalk kept staring at the notice, his voice distant,   “…aye…”   Bracken half pulled, half kicked the befuddled Chalk into the tavern where he left him while he grabbed their gear as quickly as possible from his room. Leaving the money on the bar top with a surprised looking bar mare, he pulled Chalk out into the street and around the corner of the tavern before strapping on his equipment and packs. Chalk was still in a daze, his eyes only now refocusing on his friend,   “Brack? I…it isn’t true, is it?”   “It doesn’t bloody matter!” Bracken snapped, shoving Chalk’s gear at him, “Can’t you feel it in the air? This place is going to go up any minute! Put your stuff on and let’s get the hell out of here!”   Chalk gave himself a shake and looked over his shoulder at the milling ponies. Bracken was right, there was a charge in the air, a feeling of latent aggression and fear than was likely to go up like a flower mill at any moment. He came back to his senses just in time, slipping on the last pannier and followed Bracken down a side alley as the screaming and sound of breaking glass began.   The two friends headed for the country road. It was a good day’s travel to Wellford Springs but after a good nights sleep and being well rested, they should make good time at a steady canter. Chalk seemed to have perked up considerably too, especially considering his ordeal on the island. Surprisingly, he hadn’t even mentioned it once. Bracken mentally shrugged to himself; Chalk would talk to him about it if and when he was ready. For his own part in that terrifying ordeal, he’d rather forget all about it.   Around them, the gently rolling hills and lush fields intermingled with apple and pear trees, now all but bare of their leaves with the coming winter. It was a wonderful reminder that the two friends were nearing home. A few hours of travel later and they finally had to take a break, Chalk all but collapsing by the small stream, his coat steaming in the cool air. Bracken too, sank to his knees and undid his packs, taking the opportunity to drink from the stream and refill their canteens. Not that they really needed to; home was only a few miles away now, but there was no sense in getting there so exhausted they ended up collapsing in the street.   “Brack?” Chalk asked, wiping water from his muzzle.   “Hmm?”   “You think it could be a plot by the Legion to, you know, unsettle ponies?” Chalk’s ears flopped down as he shook his head, “It doesn’t seem real somehow, any of it. I mean, what we went through, all that...that suffering, the killing, what the hell was it all for?”   Bracken shrugged, flopping down onto the cool grass and let his muscles relax, “I wish I knew, Chalky, but I don’t have any answers for you. When all’s said and done what can you and I do about any of it?”   Chalk said nothing.   Bracken snorted, “I’ll tell you…Sweet bugger all that’s what. Look,” he stared up at the sky and rolled onto his back, “you and I mean nothing to the powers that be; Celestia, Luna, whatever the hell Nightmare Moon is, so as far as I’m concerned, and as far as you should be too, its just business as usual. I don’t know about you Chalky, but I’m going home and I’m going to forget all about this great steaming pile of bollocks and get so rat-arsed down the local I won’t be able to remember my own name.”   “I guess…” Chalk muttered, “But, what about the girls? Pickles, Gretel, won’t they be worried about us?”   Bracken stretched his legs and whinnied, “Ah, who needs ‘em?” he chuckled, “there’s plenty more where they came from, and besides, there’s nothing stopping us setting off to find them again at some point in the future.”   “I…I suppose so.” Chalk looked away. He wasn’t convinced. Gretel….   A sudden snorting and thumping noise made him look round in surprise. Bracken was busy rolling on his back, flailing his hooves wildly in the air, much to Chalk’s amusement,   “Ha! You any idea how you look right now?”   The black stallion huffed, peering up at his friend,   “Like I’m enjoying myself you mean? Then, yes, yes I do.”   Chalk muttered something and then slunk off back to the stream for a wash.   “Not like you to be prudish,” Bracken chuckled, brushing the loose grass from his coat, “Nothing like a good roll when you’re tired. Get’s the blood flowing.”   “I know that!” Chalk snapped, “It’s just…you know…”   “No?”   Chalk sighed, “It’s undignified…”   Bracken stared at him open mouthed, “You know, Mister Dust, coming from any other pony I could believe that statement I just heard. But coming from you?” he shrugged, “I don’t believe it. Are you seriously trying to tell me you don’t roll?”   Chalk blushed, “Yeah, It’s just…I don’t like other ponies watching.” He looked away shyly, “I just don’t roll that way.”   Bracken burst out laughing,   “After what you got up to with that pirate piece, you can say that again!”   Chalk threw a bread roll at Bracken, laughing despite himself, “Oh, shut up!” he shook his head, “Hey Brack, you think the girls are, you know, thinking about us?”   “’Course.” Bracken replied, talking past a mouthful of roll, “Two sexy soldiers in their prime?” he swallowed, “How could they resist?” Brushing the crumbs from his muzzle, Bracken nodded to the slightly discoloured patches on Chalk’s coat, “How’re you doing anyway, any ill effects?”   Chalk shrugged, “Nah, not really. I itch all over sometimes, but the Doc said the bites weren’t deep enough to need stitching, so he covered me in this glue like stuff that really seemed to do the trick.”   Bracken nodded, “Aye, he knows his stuff alright.”   The white unicorn helped himself to a travel biscuit and munched on it thoughtfully,   “I’m worried about them, Brack. I don’t think we should have left them.”   “The Doctor?” Bracken asked curiously.   “The Doctor, the nurse, Gal and the dockworkers.” Chalk replied, “Things were really kicking off back there, and ponies will get hurt.”   “And so would we if we’d stayed.” Bracken reasoned, “Things will calm down soon, you’ll see.”   “I don’t know, dude,” Chalk said quietly. He turned to stare into the water bubbling past, “I hope to the goddesses you’re right, I really do. If anythings happened to…” he trailed off, “Ah, sod it!”   Bracken nudged him with his muzzle,   “Chalky? Go and have a roll, you’ll feel better. It’ll take your mind off things”   Chalk’s eyes went wide, “No!”   Bracken bobbed his head, “I promise I won’t watch, honest.”   “What…really?”   “Honestly…”   Chalk sighed in resignation, “Okay…but you better not!”   Bracken settled himself down to check their packs, chuckling quietly at the heavy thumping sounds and snorting behind him as Chalk rolled for all he was worth. He was itching to peek, just a quick sneaky look even, but he had promised after all. Still…   “Right!” Chalk announced, all but bouncing back to his friend, “I’m fully re-charged and ready to go.”   “Spot on,” Bracken replied. He strapped the last of his packs onto his back and gave his mane a final shake, “All set?”   “Sure,” Chalk said happily, cinching his strap in place. He paused and looked up at Bracken from under his brows, “You…you promise you didn’t look, right?”   “Of course!” Bracken said as he began to walk back to the road. He glanced over his shoulder, “You might want to work on that technique of yours though, the way you waggle your hooves makes you look like you’re having some sort of seizure.”   “Wha! You bloody…!”   Whooping with laughter, Bracken charged off, a furious and yet much happier unicorn hot on his hooves.   The first signs of home soon met them as they cleared the next rise.   Wellford was a relatively large village, big enough to have its own tavern and shops, but not quite substantial enough to be called a town…yet. The village had been growing all the time too, and being as it had a considerable number of craftsponies who’d set up shop there already, reputation alone was bringing in more and more traders and settlers looking for a new place to call home. Chalk quickly pointed out two new houses that had appeared in just the short time they’d been away. Home…Chalk sighed, it didn’t seem to have the same connection to him as it once had. He missed his mother, sure, but there were still those lingering memories, the ghosts of his past that he couldn’t quite seem to shake off. It was the same for Bracken too; he seemed pleased to be going home and yet he’d had a peculiar distance to him that Chalk had picked up on ever since that night in the forest after they’d escaped those thugs. Bracken was probably worried they’d finally catch up with him, whoever they were, but he was sure there was more to it than his friend was letting on. It was like…a shadow, hanging over him. The words of the ships doctor still worried him too, that somepony had been actually been tampering with Bracken’s memories. Whatever it meant, hopefully with the ceasing of hostilities, life in Equestria, and their own lives, would return to normal.   The centre of Wellford soon came into view, including, much to Brackens delight, his own house. With a neigh of excitement, he launched himself into a full gallop, nearly flattening Chalk who had to push hard just to keep up with him. On impulse, Bracken began to laugh, his exuberance, his sheer joy at finally being home was overwhelming. He couldn’t believe it! Dear goddesses, at last! He was here! He ran up to the front door and hammered on the brightly painted red woodwork. It was his mother’s favourite colour, the same colour he’d painted it only a few summers ago…   “Alright! Bloody hell fire, I’m coming!”   The muffled voice of a pony he recognised all too well resounded up the hallway beyond, the hoofsteps echoing off the tiled floor. With a clunk and the sound of bolts being drawn back, the door was pulled open.   “Yes? Can I help you?”   The maroon stallion with grey eyes and short black mane peered up at the visitor, fussing with a pair of glasses on his muzzle. Bracken shook his mane,   “Dad?”   The older stallion looked at him, his eyes narrowing,   “Who? I…” he paused, the light of recognition flaring suddenly in the depths of those deep grey eyes, “My…oh, Celestia…Bracken?” he reached out a tentative hoof, his leg shaking, “It isn’t…it can’t be…”   “Dad? I haven’t been gone that long!” Bracken chuckled, “Have you…”   Forelegs suddenly lunged for him, grabbing him around the neck and pulling him into a tight embrace. Bracken gasped at the sheer strength of his father; he’d forgotten just how powerful a stallion he was, but now…now he felt the wracking sobs, the tears of relief as the maroon stallion held him, emotion surging through both of them,   “I’m home…”   A voice called out from the back of the house,   “Nightjar? What are you doing keeping the front door open? You’re letting all the heat out…” the mare’s voice died away, leaving only her open mouthed stare.   With a clatter of fallen crockery, the apron wearing tangerine coated mare ran forward, all but throwing herself at Bracken who was now rapidly disappearing under the emotional onslaught of his parents. Chalk sat back, shaking his head and left them to their re-union. Whether Bracken heard him shout that he was leaving or not didn’t really matter, he’d call back round later to see how he was settling in; if the black stallion hadn’t been crushed to death by those first two of course.   Wending his way to his own home, Chalk stopped by the familiar wooden gate post. It was like he’d never left. The carving was still there as it always had been, the name he’d cut into it when he was a foal after he’d found his dad’s pocket knife. Mum had tanned his arse black and blue for that one, but the name…the name remained. He smiled, running his hoof over it…’Chalk Dust’. Sometimes he’d felt just like his namesake: insubstantial, fleeting, as though with little more than a single gust of wind he would simply disappear as if he’d never been. Putting his melancholy thoughts aside, he trotted up the worn path, past the tiny white flowers in the neat border and rang the small brass bell by the door.   Nothing.   He peered through the window, but of his mother there was no sign. The interior of the compact house looked the same though, and even had fresh flowers in the window in a vase. The nostalgic scene was so overpowering, Chalk sank to haunches and hung his head. He needed a drink…   Turning to leave, he nearly bumped into the white mare coming through the gate carrying a bag of shopping in the blue glow of her magic. Her scarlet eyes stared at him,   “You’re home then.”   Chalk nodded,   “Aye”   Lake passed him the shopping bag,   “Keep hold of that while I get the key, I can’t do everything at once, you know.”   Chalk smiled, “Of course, mother.”   Lake’s magic flickered, the keys dropping from the door as she fumbled them,   “Bloody, stupid things! Whats wrong with…with my…” She stopped, tossing her long light green mane, “Why didn’t you write?”   “Sorry, mum. Things didn’t go so well.”   Lake continued to stare at the door, “Do you know what it’s been like here? Every day, hearing about the terrible things that were happening and wondering if my son…if you…” She finally turned her tear filled face towards him, “Oh, dear Luna, I thought I’d never see my beautiful colt ever again.”   Chalk lifted up the keys and unlocked the door, “Come on mum,” he smiled, “let’s get the kettle on. I hope you’ve got some cakes, as I’ve got one hell of a story to tell you…”