The Book of Water: The Heart of Winter

A Story by TalonMach5

Chapter 14: Of Betrayal and...

He looked up from his humble yet welcome breakfast. Food here was a bit on the bland side, but the blandest meal from the run down inn they were staying in, sure beat the lean rabbits and wild herbs they’d been eating on their journey as they’d limped back to civilization. Even though they could only afford straw nests with the meager funds from their impoverished purse. The warm, dry room they’d been sharing was a welcome change from braving the fierce elements unprotected out in the wild hinterlands they'd been forced to endure.

Together, they’d been forced to make the journey by talon and claw rather than wing, as they made their way through the untamed Highlands of Autumn. Although he supposed that he should’ve been grateful for their safe arrival here, whenever he thought about the one who was the cause of their predicament, it brought a scowl of fury to his beak. That pegasi slaver scum! It was his fault that he’d ended up a wreck, and if not for the kindness of an unknown stranger, had almost been responsible for his sister’s death as well.

He almost regretted the fateful choice he’d made earlier that week to confront him for his crimes. Almost, but not quite. He was still a griffin after all, and though his clan’s numbers might’ve been reduced to just himself and his sister, the pride of Clan Gold Dawn needed to be answered for. Especially since their mother had been stolen away from them by an unfeeling mudslinger slaver years ago. He’d been too weak and young to do anything to save their mother back then, but now that he was strong he had the power to avenge their mother’s loss, or at least he’d though he had.

Back in the tavern when he’d first seen the pony, his heckles had risen in distaste at the pegasus’ unwelcome intrusion into what he felt should be a griffin only bar. Of course he’d not much more then give him the cold shoulder, after all he wasn’t an unfeeling thug like the cruel mudslingers. Equestrian’s in Autumn weren’t altogether uncommon, pony merchants often made their way through their territory, eagerly hawking their wares in the hope of making some bits. And even if he personally found their race distasteful, the trade they brought with them was needful here in their resource scarce domain.

He wasn’t quite sure what had prompted him to confront the pegasus in the first place. The pony wasn’t even a unicorn like the one who’d stolen away his mother, for Zephyr’s sake! Perhaps it was the cheap, watered down beer he’d been drinking, or maybe it was the frustration at his clan’s current impoverished predicament. His clan had been great once. Powerful, wealthy, and greatly respected, Clan Gold Dawn had a storied history in the Domain of Air. Less than five generations prior, the clan’s head had even been a member of Lady Zephyr’s council. But now, he and his sister Raine, were all that remained of their clan.

Which was why picking a fight with the pegasus over the imagined slight had been foolish. He didn’t know if the pony had friends, or if he was a skilled warrior, all he knew he was angry at the world and thought the pony would be an easy target. Angry looks and ruffled feathers had escalated to shoving against one another, and before he knew it, the pegasus’ pack had shifted to the side, revealing what the pony had sought to keep hidden. He saw it there proudly displayed on his flank, the unmistakable mark of the Slave King. The same mark the wicked unicorn slavers had so proudly worn as they claimed his mother as their newest slave, as all he could do is silently weep as he held his talons over his sister’s beak to silence her as they hid in the shadows from the unicorns’ greedy eyes.

Back then he’d been but a child, too weak to fly, let alone defend his mother from the slavers. He supposed then he’d lost all reason as he flew into a murderous rage at the pegasus. He hadn’t even known what the pony’s business was there, or even if he was involved in the slave trade at all. All he knew that this was chance that he’d been waiting for, the opportunity to do what his younger self was incapable of. Avenging his mother’s capture and enslavement.

Calling out to Raine to join him, they chased after the pony as he tried escaping them. He remembered the frantic chase through the town, and scowled. Had he been smarter, he could’ve asked for help and waylaid the pony outside town before he had the chance to escape. Instead, he’d let his anger cloud his judgment, and instead of avenging his mother, he’d almost lost his sister to the mudslinger’s vicious tactics. Discovering him hidden inside a large cloud he thought he would make short work of his prey, but instead of being an easy target the pony had turned out to be a skilled warrior. Outnumbered and seemingly outmatched by two much larger opponents, the pegasus skillfully dispatched his sister with ease, before retreating into the depths of a thorny thicket to escape a just retribution.

As she helplessly fell, he saw the terror reflected in his sister’s eyes, and abandoned the chase. It was only due to sheer force of will that he was able to rescue her from falling to her death on the meadow below. Although he’d managed to save her from crashing, she was still in terrible condition. The pegasus’ iron shoes had ripped up her back something fierce, and she was going into shock. Seeing her wounds, he’d wanted to give up the chase then and there, but she had other ideas. Thinking she wouldn’t make it, Raine had made him swear an oath to avenge her.

Promise me, Len! she’d demanded, panting and groaning in pain from her wounds. Promise me you’ll avenge me.

It tore at his heart to leave her such a sorry state, but what else could he do? She’d demanded a blood oath from him, and as her brother he was honor bound to fulfill it. Nodding in agreement, he left his heart behind as he tried to catch up with his prey. However he was stymied once more. Once cornered, the pony had baited him. Before enacting his vengeance he’d felt the need to confront the pony for what he and his foul brethren had taken from him. He’d naively thought that once confronted, the slaver might display some small bit of remorse or silver of regret for their collective sins before meeting their end at his beak and talons. But instead of begging for mercy and forgiveness, the pegasus had mocked him for failing to save his mother and sister from being taken away from him.

Blinded by his hate and rage, he lost his chance, and the pegasus managed to escape through a narrow spot in the thicket. Unable to follow after his quarry, he’d released a primal cry of fury as the mudslinger escaped into the safety of the thicket’s thorny darkness. He swore then by the first egg, and by the honor of his ancestors, an unbreakable oath to personally slay him. Eager to fulfill his oath so he could hurry back to his sister’s side, he stalked after the pony as best he could, ignoring the sharp, piercing pain of the thicket’s thorns as they pierced his hide, freely drawing his blood.

When he came upon the pegasus for the third time, luck was with him, for his ancestors had delivered his hated foe into his talons. Unaware of his presence, the pony rested against the trunk of a large thorn as he nursed his wounds. However, instead of using this opportunity to his advantage, he’d foolishly squandered it as he fantasized at how enjoyable killing the pony would be. His lack of action was his downfall, the pony wasn’t alone. His companion was a diminutive pony like creature with gossamer wings. He didn’t recognize her race, and held no ill will towards her. His only desire was fulfilling his oath so that he could return to his sister’s side before she invariably perished.

Dismissive of the tiny creature’s small stature, he ignored her warnings as he moved in for the kill. The pegasus plead for her to flee, but she ignored him and defiantly stood between him and his rightful prey. Once more she threatened him, and in response to her audacity, he knocked her aside with a flick of his talon. With that annoyance having been taken care of, he returned his attention to his prey. All he could do was think murderous thoughts as drew closer to the pony who’d wronged him so. But instead of the satisfying crunch of his talons crushing the pony’s head, he felt himself being violently knocked aside by magic back into the thicket. Landing against a particularly large thorny trunk, he looked up at her in disbelief. Stunned and disoriented, he tried to stand but found himself wracked with pain.

In his current state he was in no condition to face them, especially against a foe which possessed such potent and powerful magic. Raging in fury at having been denied his vengeance once again, he barked out a half-hearted threat before slinking off in shame at his impotence and repeated abject failures in avenging his fallen kin. Limping away through the dense underbrush of the thorny forest, his heart sunk when he thought of his poor sister whom he’d left alone and undefended on the grassy knoll outside this horrid thicket.

Slowly but surely, he fought his way through the biting thorns that had barred his path and impeded his progress from reaching the edges of this hateful place. Weak and tired, bruised and bleeding, his pain, it didn’t matter, he kept pressing on. Thoughts of Raine, the only kin he had left in the world, filled his heart with worry and his mind with dread. In his mind he saw her laying on her side, shallowly breathing, as cruel, unfeeling death slowly stalked his dying sister. Utterly alone and having been abandoned by the only family she still had left, she released a sorrowful cry of mourning. As the scene played out in his mind, his heart became heavy and cheeks grew wet. She was going to die and there was absolutely nothing he could do now to save her from her unkind fate.

Raine… I’m so sorry. Forgive me… he said to himself, lowering his head as he wept, ashamed that he’d failed her last dying request.

Wishing that he could wallow in self-pity, despair, and sorrow, he thought about laying down and just giving up. However, before he succumbed to the temptation, he heard his sister’s stern, reproaching voice echoing in his mind.

Len, don’t you dare lay down! she sharply commanded him, as he felt himself squirming under her disapproving gaze.

I just can’t go on anymore, he replied, lowering his head in defeat. Sister, I’ve failed you.

What of your oath, or of our clan’s pride? she demanded, refusing to accept his excuses. Don’t you dare go giving up on me, brother!

Hearing her firm rebuke steeled his resolve to return to her side, and so reinvigorated by her words, he pushed on, ignoring his own pain and grief as he resolved to return to sister to offer her last rites as befitted a good and proper griffin. And so he made his way through the dense foliage of the thorny thicket. As the hours passed, he slowly but surely made his way back under the open, clear skies of Autumn as he finally escaped the cruel, biting thorns of the claustrophobic thicket. Finally free from the dark oppression of the prickly grove, he looked up at the open skies overhead and praised the Maelstrom for his release.

With his prayer of gratitude complete, he began scanning the horizon, looking for any familiar landmarks he could use to aid him in returning to his sister’s side. The tall, golden grass covering the planes surrounding the thicket made locating anything familiar difficult, and he desperately wished he possessed strength enough to take flight. But when he unfolded his wings and tried giving them an experimental flap or two he let out a sharp hiss of pain. Disappointed that he’d have to walk the entire circumference of the thicket to locate where he’d left his sister, he sighed before moving towards a large hill that lay to the south of him.

The world seemed to slow down to a crawl as trudged through the tall grass covering the plains of Autumn. The only thing that showed him the passage of time was the bright sun overhead slowly retreating towards the western horizon. Looking up into its blinding light, the griffin felt his fury awaken anew at that merciless mare who controlled it. Muttering a dark curse towards her and all her hateful ponies for the countless misery and hardship they’d foisted upon his people, he gritted his teeth and kept moving, knowing that if he failed to reach his sister’s side before the setting of the sun, she’d surely perish, and shortly so would he.

Looking to Darkpaw’s Spine in the east he imagined the shining city atop its peak, the Golden Eyrie, and lamented that he would like see its magnificence in this life ever again. He thought of his people’s long neglectful goddess and supposed guardian, Lady Zephyr, and lamented.

“Maelstrom, I implore you,” he prayed aloud as his shadow began to lengthen from the sun’s waning light. “Save your people. Aid us. Avenge our wounded pride. But if not, please at least save my sister, she’s all I have left!”

He looked towards the darkening heavens with faint hope. Deep inside his heart, the words rung hollow within his breast. He knew there would be no favor, relief, nor succor offered by his absent goddess. For the howling of his clan’s wind had all but fallen silent, and shortly would be no more. Climbing up the hill, he wondered if his fellow griffins well being merited any more than a passing thought. He thought surely not, or how else could she allow such injustices continue to persist unchecked or unchallenged within her domain? Cresting over the hilltop, he was relieved when he saw some familiar landmarks in the distance. The light was beginning to wane, but from his vantage point he felt confident in his ability to locate his sister’s resting place.

Feeling relief, he was about to offer thanks to the Maelstrom, but thought the better of it. It would be dark soon, and his sister had most certainly perished. Moving as best he could down the gentle slope of the hill, he moved in the direction he was sure she lay. Having finally accepted her death, his only regret was that he lacked the strength to build a bonfire to guide her path to the Summerlands as was the funerary custom of their people. Though he couldn’t aid her spirit in passing into the next life, he was determined to see to her body at least, even if he could only offer her a shallow grave.

He saw a large familiar stone poking up from the tall grass up ahead. This had been the place where he’d made the fateful decision to leave his sister’s side in search of vengeance. He lamented over his vain pride, and regretted ever agreeing to leave her alone in order to pursue the pegasus. Placing a lone talon on the stone which would serve as her grave marker, he steeled himself to face her cold, lifeless corpse. Although in his mind he knew she was almost certainly dead, his heart couldn’t bear to face such bitterness. Lowering his head in trepidation, the acrid, bitter smell of smoke wafting past his head and filled his beak with its aroma.

Instantly, all his fears and sorrow fell away, only to be replaced with anger and fury. Somefeather was there, intruding upon her resting place. Slowly he crept through the tall grass, silently stalking the unwary trespasser, and preparing to reproach them violently for their crime. Peering through the grass, he saw a fellow griffin laying on their side besides a small burning fire. The waning light made it difficult to identify them by their plumage and markings. He didn’t know who they were but was fairly certain that they were up to no good.

Out in the wilds of Autumn, far from civilization, many unsavory griffin bandits made these untamed places their home. Looking at them as they were lazing by the fire, it didn’t take much for him to imagine the wicked brute happening upon his sister and having their way with her. For his sister was very fair, and in her injured state would be a tempting prize nofeather would give a second thought about plundering for themselves.

Imaging the cruel indignities the fiend had undoubtedly visited upon her, his muscles tensed as he prepared to avenge his sister’s stolen virtue. Flexing his talons in anger, he ignored the burning pain in his wings and side, and prepared to lunge in for the kill. But before he could wreck his bloody vengeance upon her defiler, the griffin turned towards him. Reflected in the light of the small fire, he saw a pair of soft blue eyes looking at him. Blue eyes like she had once had. Catching sight of her markings and silvery feathers, he nearly wept, for his sister had been restored to him. Overjoyed that she’d survived, he’d embraced her, much to his sister’s chagrin and displeasure. He’d forgotten all about her many wounds, and had earned a fierce nip from her beak.

Smiling at the happy memory, he looked down at his empty bowl and finished the remnants of his half eaten griffin scone. Flexing his wings, he looked down at his coin purse, and gave it small jostle with his talon. Noticing how light it seemed, he opened it up and counted its contents. Only ten bits remained. Looking down sadly at the sorry affairs of their finances, he returned the coins to his pouch and was determined to find some work to renew their funds. Opening his satchel, he began sifting through its contents in search of his family’s coat of arms. He was certain that it would help convince somefeather of his worth and trustworthy of employment.

In the corner of the bag, he saw something he’d almost forgotten about, the one lone family heirloom he still possessed, a crystal bauble. Perfectly spherical and round, the bauble comfortably fit inside his talon. It shone brightly in the light, and if one looked closely enough, tiny golden specks could be seen floating within it. Supposedly this was the greatest of his clan’s treasures. It had been gifted to one of his ancestors by the Maelstrom herself, for Clan Gold Dawn’s great service to her. He’d been told once long ago by his mother, that the bauble was used to speak with their goddess and the other clan heads, but he had no clue if it actually worked or not.

Once, after having lost his mother, he’d tried using it to contact the other clans, but nofeather had ever answered him. He took it then that nofeather else considered his clan worth the bother. He’d even considered trying to sell it for bits, but had decided against it in the end. It was after all the one thing of value his clan still possessed, and he was determined that he would be a good steward of it. Giving the bauble one last look, he was about to return it to his satchel when he saw it beginning to glow with a soft golden light.

“What in the world?” he wondered, curious why the bauble was only now beginning to work.

He didn’t have to wonder for long, because before he speak another word the image of one of the most powerful griffins in all of the Domain of Air appeared before him.

“Councilor Johan!” he shouted, surprised that such a great griffin knew who he was. “Forgive me, my lord, I hadn’t expected this bauble even worked.”

Councilor Johan offered him a slight smile. “Len, first allow me to offer my condolences regarding what happened to your mother.”

“My mother?” he replied, shocked that somefeather as powerful and influential as the Master of Laws would know of her fate.

“Yes, Len,” he said, nodding once, as he tapped his talons together. “Your mother was chicknapped by foul Equestrian slavers. I wish to apologize.”

“It happened long ago, councilor,” he replied, confused why only now he was being approached about this. “I’ve accepted what happened to her.”

“It’s unacceptable, Len, that something so terrible, happened to one of our once greatest clans,” he continued, looking down at his talons for a moment before continuing. “Although it’s long overdue, I wanted to personally offer you Lady Zephyr’s most sincere regrets and apology.”

“The Maelstrom herself is apologizing?” Len asked, dumbfounded that his deity not only knew about what had happened but was apologizing for it.

“Yes, Len,” he answered, looking him in the eye once more. “I’m happy to say that she’s finally decided to take action against the Slave King and those vile slavers for so brazenly stealing away our fellow brothers and sisters within our domain without pity or remorse.

“The Slave King…” Len growled, remembering the wicked pegasi agent that had bested him and nearly killed his sister in the process.

“Len, I too share in your anger with the Lord of Earth wickedness,” Johan said, clasping his talons together. “But soon his reign of tyranny here in the north will finally be at its end.”

“This is wonderful news, councilor,” he replied, grateful that he’d chosen to share the news with him. “I look forward to the day when that bastard finally faces justice for all his evil ways.”

“Len, I didn’t contact you, just to let you know about it,” he said, slightly pursing his beak. “Lady Zephyr needs your help.”

“She does?” he asked, wondering how one such as he could possibly aid the Lady of Air.

“Yes, she does,” Johan explained, conjuring up a map displaying the Domains of Air and Autumn. “Len, she has been betrayed by the feather closest to her, and if they aren’t stopped before it’s too late, I fear the Slave King will once again escape his just punishment.”

When he heard his words, a righteous fury began burning in his breast. “How can I help?” Len asked, prepared to give his all, even his life if it meant the Slave King would finally be stopped.

“The traitor stole a treatise vital to stopping the Slave King, with the intent to deliver it to somefeather in the Ziggurat of Knowledge,” he explained, highlighting the city on the map. “If he’s not stopped before he reaches his destination, the Slave King will discover what we’re trying to do and will take steps to stop us.”

“But certainly there are more suitable feathers for such an important mission,” Len protested, worried his strength wouldn’t be enough to succeed in such an important mission.

“Honestly that's true,” Johan agreed, nodding his head. “However the traitor’s identity is the reason why it must be you that stops him.”

“I don’t understand,” Len said, confused who it could be that required him to be the one.

“Because if any other were to be sent on this task, it would mean civil war,” Johan answered, giving him a grim look.

“Who could possibly cause a civil war?” he wondered, confused by the councilor’s concern.

“The traitor is Lady Zephyr’s son, Dawson,” he explained, looking away as he sighed. “He’s betrayed us all, everyfeather of us.”

“How could he betray his own mother like that?” he asked, shocked that he would do something so dastardly.

“He hopes to win the Slave King’s favor,” Johan said, clenching his beak angrily.

“That monster!” Len shouted, infuriated and incensed that the Maelstrom’s own son would willingly betray them for the Slave King. “How could he?”

“The Slave King is his father,” he coolly explained, tapping his talons together. “So you can see the problem.”

“I can’t guarantee his safety,” Len replied, feeling fury washing over him at the thought of a fellow griffin betraying them like that.

“That won’t be a problem,” Johan said, looking him directly in the eye. “You’ll have to kill him.”

“Lady Zephyr doesn’t have the heart to slay her son,” Johan continued, rapping his knuckles. “And if word was to get out that her own son had nearly sold them out, civil war amongst the clans for his betrayal would be inevitable. Len, the Domain of Air can’t afford to be fractured and disjointed at this time. We need to possess a unified front if we hope successfully stop the Slave King for good.”

“It’s because my clan is no more isn’t it?” Len asked, finally realizing exactly why the councilor had approached him with this difficult task.

“Yes, Len, if you killed Dawson and were discovered, there would be no war,” Johan agreed, sighing once more.

Len had never killed a fellow griffin before, and being asked to do so weighed heavily on his conscience. But surely such a terrible betrayal against their people was worthy of death. He thought once more of the mocking pegasus escaping justice and tightly clenched his talon in anger. But then he thought of his sister, and turned away from the councilor’s image.

“My sister…” he said, lowering his head. “I’m the only family she has left. If I were to die during this task, she’d be bereft of clan and kin.”

Johan gave the young griffin before him a thoughtful look. “Len,” he said, slowly stroking his beak. “If you agree to do this and succeed, I will personally see to it that lands, titles, and wealth are restored to your clan. Additionally, even if you fail or perish on this mission, I’ll find a worthy griffin from a prestigious clan for her to marry.”

When he heard his words, Len felt a calm envelop his heart. Agreeing to the councilor’s terms would finally fulfill his lifelong dream of restoring his clan to its former greatness. But more importantly, would allow him to strike fatal blow to the Slave King’s enslavement ring here in Autumn. Should he succeed, he could finally wipe away the shame he’d carried for so long in failing to save his mother from those heartless monsters wearing pony skins.

He was certain Raine wouldn’t forgive him for breaking his promise and leaving her alone in the world, but securing her the future she deserved was more important. As devoted to their goddess as she was, he was certain that Raine would never agree to the plan to slay the Maelstrom’s griffin-half son. She would demand that he face justice for his treachery instead. Normally he’d agree, a betrayal such as this needed to be brought to trial, but the chances of Autumn falling into civil war was too great, and should their people hope to finally stop the Slave King’s wickedness they would have to be firmly united.

“I’ll do it,” he said, hardening his heart and steeling his resolve. “If it means our people’s salvation, I will murder Dawson for you.”

“Thank you, Len,” the councilor said with a slight bow. “Although nofeather can know of your patriotism and sacrifice, I will remember and honor it.”

“Which path has Dawson taken to the Ziggurat of Knowledge?” he asked, as he began gathering his things.

“He’ll likely bypass the western passes to avoid detection,” Johan said, conjuring up a map.

“That would leave the northern and southern routes,” Len pointed out, tracing a talon along the paths displayed on the flickering map.

“A journey that long and arduous would require rest and resupply,” Johan said, pointing towards the southern route. “The border town of Grimm’s Rest is likely his first stop on his journey.”

“And if he went to the Crystal Domain instead?” he replied, well aware of the Slave King’s northernmost holding.

“It’s much too far for him to fly unaided,” Johan answered, shaking his head in disagreement. “Go to Grimm’s Rest and wait for him there, should I be mistaken, I will contact you to let you know.”

“I’ll leave immediately, councilor,” Len said, looking into the much older griffin’s eyes. “Remember your promise to my sister.”

“I’ve already dispatched a trustworthy feather to collect her,” Councilor Johan said with a nod. “I promise you, Len, your sister will be well provided for until a suitable mate can be provided for her.”

“Thank you for your aid, councilor,” he said, picking up his knife and offering it a thoughtful look before sliding it in its sheath and attaching it to his forearm. “May the Maelstrom forgive me.”

“May the Maelstrom forgive us all,” Johan replied with a small shake of his head before his image faded away into nothing.

Now with his fate set and die cast, Len attached his satchel firmly to his side before giving the room one last look. He placed a coin on the bed from his meager purse for his sister, should she need an extra night at the inn before the councilor’s feather could collect her, and exited the shabby room which had been his home these past few days. Without a second thought, he spread his wings and took to the warm, cloudy skies of his homeland.

Giving the slowly shrinking inn behind him one last look, he shut his eyes as a tear wet the feathers on his cheek. “Forgive me for leaving you, Raine…”

*****

Standing at attention with her companions in the antechamber, she felt slightly bored. Ever since she’d agree to serve him and enjoin with the others on this journey, she’d thought that she’d be embarking on an adventure. But instead of being assaulted by greedy dragons or enraged spirits, the most they’d had to contend with was uncordial and uncooperative civil servants. Not that she was complaining mind you, she’d had more than her fill of vengeful ghosts and changeling assassins to last her for a while.

No, she was more surprised that nopony had tried ambushing or waylaying them yet. Though she supposed that could be attributed to the banners they carried as their pennants. Her companion, Gunhilde, the reindeer battlemage, held aloft with her magic a flag depicting a crescent moon superimposed over a dark blue field of stars, an offer of protection from the Lady of Night herself, Luna the Beautiful. Standing to her right, was Chrysalis, Gunhilde’s diamond dog charge, proudly holding the colors of her master, a stylized silver and black image of the Slave King’s brand over green. But that wasn’t all, she herself held the colors of her liege lord. A pair of crossed silver tridents on a blue back.

These three flags showed they held the full backing of three of the most powerful deities on the Pantheon, and so it was little wonder why the most they had to contend with so far on their journey was stubborn guards and unyielding gates. At first they’d meant to head straight towards the harbor to book passage north, but her charge, Melody the Yellow in an attempt to gain entrance into the city had tried using intrigue and subterfuge to get past the guard, only to fail when she was unable to prove her claims.

However in the end, it was the bitch that had somehow convinced the adamant guard to let them pass. She wasn’t quite sure how she’d managed to do it, Chrysalis had only given her a smirk and glib answer in turn when she’d asked her how she’d so easily persuaded the guard to grant them passage. If she didn’t know any better, mainly due to how quick she’d been with the guard, she was nearly convinced that the diamond dog was as skilled a seductress as any changeling might be.

Changelings… Ugh, even the mere thought of one, made her blood boil and scales uncomfortably itch. Ever since her first meeting with that wicked changeling saboteur back at Bone’s Landing, any thoughts about changelings in general and that beast in particular, made her wounded pride and unavenged honor demand that she balance the scales of justice, and for good reason too. Her people held a strong enmity towards the despicable changeling race, and all her interactions with that thief and assassin had done nothing to lessen her own distaste for their wretched and degenerate kind.

Giving the bitch a thoughtful look, she wondered if she might possibly be a changeling in disguise. It was certainly an intriguing idea. Her knowledge of the changeling they’d fought against in the Slave King’s treasury was uncanny. Only somepony highly skilled in changeling lore, could’ve known what she’d had. But then again, given how little she knew of her traveling companions, perhaps any one of them could be one of those devious creatures.

“Do I have something on my muzzle, chevaleresse, or do you happen to fancy a roll in the sack with me?” Chrysalis teased, noticing the looks the seapony was giving her.

“I desire nothing of the sort!” she protested, her cheeks flushing crimson at the very idea of engaging in such indecent acts with the winsome bitch.

“Don’t be afraid, Squall,” she smirked, giving her a saucy grin. “I promise I won’t bite… Much.”

“Save the pillow talk for the bedchamber later, lovebirds,” Melody admonished while wearing a slight grin. “Remember where you are.”

“Yes, bored out of my mind waiting for the city’s governor to show up,” Chrysalis moaned, folding her paws across her chest.

“We are here, acting as official representatives of the Slave King after all,” Melody said, shaking a finger disapprovingly at the hound.

“A fat lot of good that did in getting us past the guard and through the gates,” Chrysalis replied, dismissively rolling her eyes.

“Be that as it may, Chrysalis,” Gunhilde countered, we don’t want to end up embarrassing the Slave King before the governor.

“Okay, fine, I got it,” Chrysalis agreed, giving them another smirk. “No more debauchery or licentiousness, I promise I’ll be the pinnacle of chastity and virtue.”

“Well at least until after we’ve been greeted by the governor,” Melody replied with a cheeky grin. “He is a prince after all.”

“Oh, the governor is that Prince Blueblood?” Gunhilde asked, leaning against her standard.

“Well technically he’s an ex-prince,” Melody explained, lightly tapping her foot against the marble floor. “Celestia revoked his title after his tenure as the Equestrian diplomat to the Diamond Vale came to an end.”

“Oh, really? Do tell, Melody!” Chrysalis excitedly asked, salivating at the chance to hear some juicy gossip.

“Well…” Melody began before hearing the door to the antechamber opening up. “Sorry, girls, I’ll have to tell you about it later.”

As the door inwardly open by magic, in walked a large white unicorn. Giving the group a cursory glance, he looked at them apprehensively. But upon seeing Melody, his blue eyes opened wide, as he offered her a cheery smile. Visibly relieved by her presence, he seemed to relax and walked behind his desk before taking a seat. Rolling his shoulders, he picked up a document lying on his desk and gave it a cursory glance. Seemingly satisfied, he placed it down in front of him, and gave Melody an expectant look.

“So tell me, Melody, how’s your sister been?” the unicorn asked, holding in his breath as he waited for her answer.

“Well, governor, you know how Harmony can be,” she replied, giving him a coy smile.

“Governor?” he asked, feigning hurt at her formality. “Love, I thought we were friends.”

“Oh, Blueblood,” she replied, giving him a cheeky smile. “You degenerate old so and so, I was just teasing.”

“You little minx,” he retorted, sticking out his tongue at her. “So I hear you and your entourage are part of some sort of official inquest regarding the recently discovered slave smuggling occurring here in the city?”

“Not exactly?” he asked, arching his brow as he levitated several documents up off from his desk. “Melody, is there something you’re not telling me?”

“Oh no, Blueblood,” she answered wearing a nervous smile. “Well not really.”

Giving her companions a hard look, he tapped the papers against the surface of the desk, before placing them in a neat pile to his left. Leaning back against his seat, he fidgeted in his seat trying to find a more comfortable position to sit in. Considering the four mares before him he decided to play it cool.

“So if you’re not part of the official inquiry, Melody,” he asked, lightly tapping his front hooves together. “Why did you feel the need to lie about it?”

“It seemed to be the simplest way to enter the city,” she replied, offering him a sheepish smile.

“You know, Melody,” he continued, opening the top drawer of his desk and removing a small crystal with his magic. “Given the circumstances, one might think you and your party had something to hide.

Examining the crystal globe being levitated before them, Melody noticed it bore a striking resemblance to the aetheric paperstop her sister kept on the desk in her office. The green and gold flecks floating inside cast a curious light, and she immediately thought of Harmony. Noting her interest, the governor placed the desk bauble in her outstretched hand. Looking into luminescent depths of the globe, she shook it once and watched as the flecks inside shimmered and shone with an etheric glow.

“You know, Blueblood, she still has hers,” she said, placing the paperstop atop a pile of papers on his desk.

“Is that so, Melody?” he replied, looking momentarily towards an easterly facing window before returning his attention to his unexpected guests.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Blueblood said, biting his lip before returning the crystal back to its drawer. “But enough about your sister for now, Melody. We really should return to the matter at hoof, the reason for you and your entourage’s visit.”

“Well, Blueblood,” she said, adjusting the satchel at her side. “Were you aware that the Slave King got married?”

“No, I wasn’t,” he answered, studying each of them as he rang a small bell on his desk.

“Yes, the Slave King recently got married to your aunt, Princess Luna,” she said, as a grey unicorn butler entered the room carrying a large covered silver tray.

“Auntie Luna married the Slave King of all ponies?” he wondered aloud, as the butler placed the tray before him. “How sudden, I never would’ve guessed she had designs on the south.”

“Well it certainly was unexpected, believe you me,” Melody said, placing her hands in her lap.

The butler removed the silver lid covering the tray, revealing an ornate tea set. A large tea kettle, four cups and saucers, silver spoons, a sugar bowl, and creamer were all at the ready. The distinct aroma of tea filled the room as the butler presented the tea caddy to his master.

“I think the special blend will do,” Blueblood said glancing towards a small door on the far wall.

“Of course, sir,” the butler said with a slight bow, before exiting the room.

Noticing the envious eyes of her entourage, he gave them a slight smile. “Melody, might I interest you and your friends with a bit of refreshment?”

“Well it’s not often that I get to entertain these days,” he replied as he began seeping the tea in the kettle. “Auntie Celestia always said sharing a pot of tea with guests was a sure way to gain new friends. Perhaps you might tell me more about yours?”

“Oh, certainly,” Melody said, gesturing to her left. “This is Dame Squall of Marelantis.”

Nodding once, Dame Squall slightly bowed her head. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, governor.”

“Oh please, love, call me Blueblood,” he said, getting up from his seat and kissing her fin. “All the ladies do.”

“I sense the governor wants to make more than your acquaintance, chevaleresse,” Chrysalis said with a smirk.

“Bitch, I see you have quite the witty and cunning tongue,” he said with a slight grin and mischievous twinkle in his eye.

“Take me somewhere a bit more secluded and private, your lordship, and I can show you exactly how cunning my tongue can be,” Chrysalis replied with a teasing wink.

Gunhilde frowned in disapproval at her charge’s cavalier attitude with the governor and shot her a dirty look. “Governor Blueblood, please forgive our companion’s forwardness,” she said, looking towards the brand emblazoned on the changeling’s flank. “Chrysalis has little regard for proper etiquette.”

“Oh its fine, my lovely,” he said giving her a charming smile. “And might I have the pleasure of your name?”

“Gunhilde, cupbearer to the Slave King,” she said, lightly lowering her antlers to him.

“Cup bearer you say,” he said, giving her a curious look. “And, Dame Squall, the bitch mentioned you’re a chevaleresse? I take it in the service of the Lawgiver?”

“Ah yes,” she said with a nod. “I’m serving as Melody’s bodyguard, but I’m a member in good standing of The Most Illustrious Order of Triton the Lawgiver.”

“And the bitch…” he said, checking the tea leaves seeping in the kettle. Removing the kettle’s lid and inhaling the scent deeply, he exhaled before placing it back on the kettle.

“Now that would be telling, governor,” Chrysalis said, giving him a slight smile.

“So, cousin, tell me,” Blueblood said, returning to his seat and looking Melody directly in the eye. “Tell me why you’re really here.”

“Well actually, Melody, I believe it would be cousin-in-law,” he replied giving her and the others a thoughtful look. “My apologies on missing the wedding, had I known…”

“Had you known and shown up, Harmony might have done something regrettable,” she said interrupting him. “To say nothing of what your aunts or the Slave King might’ve done. What was it that Scourge promised to do to you if you ever stepped foot in the palace or Neo Vale again?”

Hearing her words reminded him of that ghostly terror and what he’d threatened to do should their paths ever cross again, sent a shiver running down his spine. He had no desire to relive the memories and quickly decided to change the subject.

Looking towards the tea kettle he frowned. “Blast! I seeped the tea for far too long, and now it’s ruined,” Blueblood said, knocking his hoof against his leg. “My apologies, ladies, allow me to remedy this shortly.”

Ringing the bell at his desk once more, he looked towards the small door once more. Moments later, the butler returned with another smaller tray in his magic’s hold. “Sir, the special blend you requested,” he said with an air of genteel sophistication, as he presented another tea caddy and piping hot kettle.

“Thank you, Foxglove,” the governor said with a slight smile. “Would you see to those arrangements we discussed earlier?”

“Are you quite certain, sir?” the butler said, giving Melody and her companions a cursory glance. “I’m afraid once done, there’s little that can be done to undo it.”

“Foxglove, I’m afraid there’s no other choice in the matter,” he said with some reluctance. “Here in the South its dog eat dog.”

“My apologies, sir, I understand,” the butler replied, giving his master a regretful look. “I’ll see to the arrangements straightaway.”

“Is there something worrying you, Blueblood?” Melody asked, concerned about their exchange.

“Oh, it’s nothing you need to worry about, cousin,” he replied, seeping the tea with his magic. “How do you prefer your tea? With sugar and cream?”

“And you, Dame Squall?” he asked, gesturing towards the sugar bowl. “Something sweet perhaps?”

“Two lumps or sugar and a generous dollop of cream please,” she said, eagerly looking forward to enjoying the fragrant tea.

“I prefer mine plain,” Chrysalis said, shaking her head at the offered sugar cubes.

“Are you sure, love, the tea can be quite overwhelming by itself,” Blueblood said, gesturing towards the creamer.

“No, I’m quite sure,” she replied, taking the offered cup from his magic’s grasp.

Sipping her tea, Melody frowned when she saw that Blueblood wasn’t having any. “Oh no, there’s only four cups,” she said, unhappy that he wasn’t able to enjoy drinking the tea with them.

“Oh that’s quite all right, cousin,” he said, picking up a sugar cube and placing it in his mouth. “I wasn’t really that thirsty for tea.”

“Does anypony else feel a bit odd?” Dame Squall asked, as she struggled to stay upright.

Gunhilde wet her lips with her tongue, as she downed her tea with a quick gulp. “Now that you mention it, my mouth feels rather dry,” she said, as she blinked trying to keep everything in the room in focus.

“Poisoned,” Chrysalis murmured as her cup fell from her grasp, shattering into pieces on the floor.

“Sorry, cousin…” Blueblood said, his voice filled with regret and sorrow. “But it was either you or me.”

“You came to kill me, Melody,” he dispassionately said, as they each fought against the desire to drift off into nothingness.

“No, I'd never…” she whispered, as her eyes rolled into the back of her head.

“Why else would you visit me with a knight of the Lawgiver, the Slave King’s cup bearer, and a doomhound in tow?” he asked, as he watched their breathing slow.

Hearing nothing, he shook his head, sorry that it had to come to this. Ringing the bell once more, he waited for his butler, Foxglove to return.

“I take it the deed is done, sir?” the butler asked entering the office once more.

“As good as done,” Blueblood replied, handing him a bag of bits. “Hire a ship heading north to deliver them to the usual place.”

“Sir, if you’re discovered…” Foxglove said, before being silenced by a sharp look from his master.

“It’s only a matter of time, before either of my aunts or the Slave King come a calling,” he said in a resigned tone. “The poison should keep them catatonic until they’ve been permanently dealt with.”

“I understand, sir, and what of the other governors?” he asked, as he began picking up the unconscious bodies on the floor. “What should I tell them happened to the Slave King’s delegation?”

“The truth that they chartered a ship and headed north,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “By the time anypony catches on it’ll be too late.”

“Don’t worry, sir, I’ll see to the bodies,” he said, laying Dame Squall onto the cart he’d brought.

“Thank you, Foxglove, when you’ve finished up here, please tell her to meet me in my quarters,” he said, pulling out the paperstop from his desk drawer once more.

“Tell who to meet you, sir?” Foxglove asked, placing a motionless Gunhilde in the cart beside her dead to the world companions.

“I’m sorry, sir?” he looked up in confusion as he placed Melody on top of Chrysalis. “Who are you requesting I send for?”

Closing his eyes he saw the fierce purple eyes of his obsession glaring back at him, as her black wings flared out in anger. Her delicate hands were tightly balled into fists as he held pieces of her torn clothing with his magic. Her cute, pert breasts, barely covered by the shredded remnants of her shredded blouse, rhythmically moved up and down as she panted heavily in equal parts incense and exhaustion. The ferocity of each fury, fueled breath echoed in his ears as she snorted in derision. The shiny black plumage covering her exposed hips and backside were ruffled and unkempt, as she tried in vain to cover her nakedness. Her heart pounding with adrenaline beat heavily as she was paralyzed by indecision between fighting and flight. The fine, delicate feathers covering her angelic face, wet and matted with tears of hurt and betrayal, she tried in vain to hide as she turned away from him in shame.

Wishing to will away the loathsome memory, he opened up his eyes and turned to his faithful servant. “Foxglove, does it matter?” he asked, as he looked down at the spilled tea and broken cup laying in pieces on the ground. Looking at his murky, loathsome reflection staring back at him, he laid back his head and looked up at the ceiling in regret.

“Very well, sir,” the butler replied, covering Melody and the others with a heavy tarp.

Sadly shaking his head, he left his master behind and pulled the cart behind him. When the door closed behind him, Blueblood closed his eyes once more and softly said, “Did it ever really matter?”

*****

The oppressive darkness of this place covered them like a heavy cloak. She and her guide were treading dark paths that few knew, and even fewer dared travel. All around her, the silent whispers of the hidden shadowy watchers beckoned, trying to catch her unawares in their snares should she stray. Her eyes tried scrying the path that lay beyond her sight, but in the end all she discovered were the unfathomable, inky blackness of his place of fell shade and dark shadows.

The darkness surrounding them, pressed down upon her like a heavy millstone relentlessly grinding against her hope filled heart. Dark visions filled her mind and wretched madness echoed in her ears trying to dissuade her from pressing forward. But all the fearsome horrors lying in wait and hiding beyond her sight would not discourage her from continuing on this necessary journey. For hers was a noble purpose, and she was determined that nothing would reaching her sojourns end.

Keep up! You useless pony! her guide snarled, releasing a low growl of annoyance.

“How dare thee, thou wretched beast!” she snapped back, angry that her guide had the gall to insult her. “We art thy mistress, brute, and thou shoulds’t treat us as such.”

Mistress? What a terrible joke, her guide retorted, amused that she thought herself worthy to command her in the slightest. Maybe were I one of your weak, little ponies.

“Pony or not, dids’t thy master not bequeath thine service to us as our hoofmaiden?” she demanded, hoping to remind her of her duty to cause.

Being reminded of that hateful pledge, made her hackles rise as she hissed in anger at the memory. Turning away from her, she didn’t answer as continued leading the way to their destination.

Satisfied that her words had silenced the distasteful creature, her mind turned to worried thoughts of her stricken beloved. She’d left him under the watchful care of his ever faithful friend and loyal servant, but still found herself worrying over his well being. What if they weren’t fast enough, or the plan to resuscitate him from his torpor failed. What would they do then? Without his power to command the gates they and thus all creation were doomed.

She thought upon the plan they had agreed upon, and still felt it was their best chance at success. Scourge had suggested creating an anchor of shadow within the confines of Darkpaw’s old temple. With it they could easily move her beloved to his fount of renewal and the source of his power, the crystallized essence of the Earth. She’d only been there once prior, and although she’d tread the path together with her beloved, she couldn’t recall the way. She’d been much too busy flirting with and trying to impress her husband to be. He’d led her on a merry chase as they traveled together towards the site of his yearly renewal.

It was there, she thought, as he bathed in the radiance and majesty of the great gem’s brilliance she had begun loving him. He’d looked so calm and magnificent at that moment, fully embracing his purpose as the Prime Element of Earth, that he’d managed capturing her heart and she wished for nothing more than to be by his side. Even now, the sweet memories of how she felt at that moment were driving her forward to aid her beloved. They urged her to forgive him for his shortcomings, for his brusque and rough nature, for his distrust of her.

He’ll never love you, you know, her guide said, looking over her shoulder at her.

Laying back her ears and narrowing her eyes, she glared at the cruel beast who dared utter such hateful words to her.

“And what woulds’t a heartless and odious beast such as thou, knave, knowest of love and all its divers joy?” she retorted, stomping her hoof in objection.

Her guide, narrowed her eyes in response and bore her fangs at the one who thought to command her allegiance. She felt sorely tempted to retaliate against that pony for her smug answer. Had things not been so dire for her master, she would’ve raked her with her fearsome claws before abandoning that usurper to the travails of this dangerous place. But she had no alternative available to her, to see to his safety. Though it vexed her sore, she needed that useless fool of a pony to save him.

Truly there was no justice in the world, when undeserving wretches like that pony whore could latch onto her master like a leach without nary a consequence. Goddess though she may be, all their troubles had begun once she had forced him to take her as his undeserving wife. Truly, she was the source of all their ills and misfortune. From the foul curse that had brought her wonderful master low, to this current crisis that threatened to doom them all, if she were out of the picture her master could finally recover free from her caustic influence.

She wished to utter a scathing rebuke, but found her mistress, for now at least, her words had cut her to the core. She possessed nary an inkling of the thing that her master’s previous lovers had claimed was love, especially the obnoxious phoenix’s ideal of what it should be. To her, he was the center of all things. Right or wrong, his will was hers, and she was his to command. All she desired was her rightful and proper place at his side, whereas the whores he’d chosen to cavort with had only ever deceived and used him. If that was love, she had no desire to ever know it.

Looking hatefully once more at the weakling who mistakenly thought herself worthy or deserving of her master, she shook her head. Here was another treacherous, lying, deceiver, who was the worst of them all. Although the rest had used him for their own selfish gain, none of the others had ever harmed her master as she had. Feeling her ire rise as she recounted the wrongs done against him, made her heart rage and soul yearn for vengeance. She could only hope that playing her part in reigniting her master’s divine spark, had also restored the rage and fury he once possessed.

Returning her attention back to the path, she was tempted to ruminate further on how once she and her master had been restored to good health, how they would fall upon and avenge themselves together against their enemies, but then stopped.

Noticing that her guide had halted, she walked up behind her and tried peering into the darkness to determine why she’d stopped moving. “Pray tell, why hast thou ceased?” she asked, slightly concerned by the hidden dangers that lay in wait beyond her sight.

Her guide remained silent much to her consternation. Ordinarily she’d be grateful to be spared listening to her venomous invective, but now her silence was rather worrisome. Although she knew of her servant’s distaste for ponies in general, and herself in particular, it wasn’t until they entered this realm of shadows together that was she able to hear it. And listen she had, they had scarcely taken two steps before she had told her exactly what she thought of her.

She’d been tempted then to take her leave of the surly beast, to make her own way, but was reminded of her beloved’s dire need, and so swallowed her pride. It wasn’t an easy task, but before long her companion had run out of words and steam, and seemed satisfied to only utter a few barbs every now and again. Now that she’d received no harsh words in response to her question put her on edge.

We’re not alone, pony, she said with a low growl as she bared her fangs at the darkness.

“What dost thou sense lieth in the dark, Nightmare?” she asked, nearly whispering her question in apprehension.

Prepare yourself, pony, he comes, she answered, flicking her tail back and forth as she readied her claws for battle.

"Yes, my friend, I have come,” an ever familiar said from the darkness surrounding them.

“You?” she asked, confused by how the voice had manifested itself here in this place.

"Yes, it’s I,” he replied, with a slight chuckle. “Princess, you seem so surprised to see me.”

“We dids’t not suppose that thou wert of a corporeal nature,” she admitted, feeling relieved that she’d hadn’t actually been under the sway of near madness.

Tiroc! Nightmare hissed, extending her claws as she readied herself to pounce.

Hearing the dread one’s name nearly sent her into shock. All this time the one who’d been whispering into her mind had been that great, sealed away evil, Tiroc the Destroyer.

“Yes, Nightmare, it is I,” he answered, his voice oozing smugness. “So, my friend, have you given any more thought to my offer?”

It was a mistake ever revealing yourself to me, Tiroc, she disdainfully replied, peering ahead into the inky darkness. But then again, I suppose stumbling from one misstep to the next has always been your way, no?

“Then I suppose, Nightmare, that my only mistake was thinking you would ever see reason,” he said, disappointed that she’d spurned his offer once more.

“Tiroc, thou scound,” Luna accused, lighting up her horn in preparation to do battle. “Thou shan’t waylay us any further with thy prattling tongue.”

“Luna, how rude,” he said with a laugh. “Is that anyway to treat a friend and ally?”

“Thou art not an ally of ours!” she shouted, lowering her horn at the darkness. “Thy word dost ring hollow, thy oaths be empty, and all that thou promise is naught but ruination.”

“But, my friend, didn’t I show you the way to get what you wanted?” he countered as the sound of his voice circled around them. “Why blame me for your timidity and constant failures, princess?”

“We carest no longer for thy ill begotten lies, thou forked tongue, deceiver!” she shouted, angrily shaking her mane and stomping her hoof.

Treacherous pony, Nightmare hissed, furious that she’d betrayed her master once more. The Slave King will hear of your betrayal!

“We didst not knoweth it!” Luna protested, afraid that this would be drive another wedge between herself and her beloved.

Save your lies, you pony whore! she snarled, furious that she lacked the means of avenging herself against Luna’s betrayal against her lord.

“We art innocent, we so swear it!” Luna cried out, desperate to be believed by anypony. “We woulds’t never harm our husband, we loveth him.”

“Ah, but we had an accord, Princess,” Tiroc said, as the darkness took on a reddish tint.

“Away with thee, deceiver!” Luna boomed, uttering her command to this unwelcome tormentor.

“I don’t think so,” Tiroc said, clearly amused by her attempt at removing him. “Neither you nor Nightmare can stop me here.”

I’ll fight you, fool, and I will win, Nightmare promised, as her eyes scanned the darkness surrounding them for their unseen assailant. I’ll battle you, and whether by fang or claw, I will defeat you.

“Then you, like your master before you, will fall,” he said, as the darkness began melting away. “You lack the strength to stop me.”

“Foul one, she shan’t be facing thee alone,” Luna said, moving forward. “We shalt do battle with thee, and cast thee aside.”

“But what of your husband’s heart?” Tiroc countered with a laugh. “Without my help you’ll never succeed in securing it, unless you’re willing to sacrifice ever knowing happiness with him that is.”

“Hermm…” Luna snorted, pawing the ground once more as she tried locating Tiroc through the darkening red mist.

“Oh, dear, sweet, innocent, little princess…” he mocked with a riotous laugh. “Afraid of embracing the dark?”

“We shan’t resort to debasing ourselves to thee any further!” she cried out, rearing up on her hind legs as her heart filled with a righteous fury.

Unfurling her wings, she flew up above Nightmare and lit up her horn. As the grooves of her horn filled with her power and divinity, tendrils of pure moonlight shoot out in all directions, melting away the sickly red mist as the morning’s dew before the rising sun. Her eyes, normally a shade of turquoise, looked as quicksilver, and her starry mane and tail flowed behind her, caught up in the unseen winds of magic enveloping her.

For her part, Nightmare gave her supposed mistress a dismissive sneer, before stalking off into the darkness. Shaking her head in disapproval at such a flashy display, she’d have hoped that someone as experienced as the Lady of Night supposedly was, would know better than leaving herself exposed to attack. Smirking to herself as she cast one last derisive glance up at her, she only hoped that Tiroc wouldn’t kill her before they managed to reach the temple and setup the anchor. Once that was done, Luna could succumb to her inevitable wounds and fall into torpor for their enemies to tear into pieces for all she cared.

Ignoring Nightmare for now, Tiroc continued taunting Luna. “So the little filly thinks herself the equal of Celestia, now does she?” he mocked, the deep timbre of his voice echoing all around her. “A shame that all you have to aid you in this fool’s errand is as surly a brute as Nightmare. Now if your sister was here, perhaps then I might have something to fear.”

Enraged at his mocking words, Luna released a portion of the magic within her horn, sending a silvery rain falling in every direction. When she heard a loud growl of anger, she narrowed her eyes, and prepared to strike. Flapping her wings once, she beat them as hard as she could and glided into the dark with her horn pointed forward. As the winds of magic and air pulled at her coat and mane, she felt her heart beating with exhilaration. Not since the mines had she felt such an adrenaline rush.

However feeling such excitement was short lived, no sooner had she reached more than five lengths into the red mist, she felt a powerful blow connect against her muzzle. Falling to the ground and silently crying from the pain, she shakily stood up on her hooves and released a silvery beam towards where she felt Tiroc might be hiding.

As the magic left her horn, she was rewarded with a furious roar. “Ha, thou brute,” she boasted, moving her eyes left and right as she prepared herself for another devastating blow. “Where art thy witty retorts and flippancy now? We assure thee, we have enough and to spare if thou desireth another good thrashing.”

“That was a mere scratch, nothing more I assure you, little princess,” Tiroc answered from the dark. “But I sense your hesitance, filly. If you are so confident in your skill, I welcome you to try and defeat me.”

Calling upon her magic, she formed two orbs of silver, and began spinning them above her head. As the orbs picked up speed, blue sparks flowed along the surface, until the growing, crackling sparks became arcs of lightning. As the sparking, crackling energy formed a circuit between the orbs, a loud crack of thunder shook the place, nearly causing her to lose her balance. Once she was satisfied with her make shift weapon, she released the crackling orbs into the darkness. Wasting no time, she formed another pair of orbs before the first had barely left her horn’s power.

Scarcely had she formed the second set of orbs, when she heard an angry, enraged cry, signifying that her weapon had flown true and found its mark. In the darkness, she saw the faint outline of the Destroyer through the mists, as her attacks electrical power shocked and wracked his body. Unwilling to give her foe an opportunity to recover, she flung the orbs at him once more. Giving them a boost from magical stores, the mists burned away as they carved a path to her waiting target.

Confident that she had stunned the beast with her spell, she victoriously trotted over towards him. The monstrous shape of Tiroc glared down at her as she stepped towards her prize. The orbs had indeed succeeded in stunning and binding him, as the coursing electrical energy holding him in place attested.

Looking up into his bale fire filled eyes, she imagined how proud everypony would be of her for having saved the day. She’d stopped the Destroyer alone, unaided, and left him dead in his tracks. Her smile grew larger when she thought about how she would recount her victory to the others, and her cheeks grew crimson when she thought about how her cold husband might react once she revealed to him how she’d saved his life and preserved his domain from any further mischief from the dread monster.

“Tiroc, dost thou have any last words before we banish thee back to thy prison in the pit?” she smugly asked, overwhelmed with pride at her remarkable accomplishment.

“And pray tell, what mayst be they?” she asked, readying her magic for the coup de grace.

Turning around she saw to her horror a large fist moving towards her muzzle. She tried reacting, but it was too late, the fist impacted with muzzle with a sickening crunch. She felt her eyes watering as she spat out blood, before feeling a second more powerful impact against the other side of her head. This time she felt the majority of the impact against where her horn met the crown of her head.

Screaming in pain she felt to her horror the majority of her magic being released uncontrollably from her horn. Slumping to the ground, she whimpered as her own magic rained down upon her. She tried forming a shield to protect herself from the worst of it, but found that head ached to terribly to cast, while her horn felt like it might shatter if she tried casting anything further.

Looking up from the ground in stunned shock, she saw the image of Tiroc she’d thought she’d caught melt away into the mists and shadows surrounding her. Looking to her left she saw her quarry standing above her with the same smug look of victory she’d held at the moment before the tables had turned. From the corner of her eyes, she thought she saw Nightmare’s burning eyes for a moment, before they too faded away into nothingness.

Despondent in her failure to stop the Destroyer, she hung her head down and cried in shame. “Beloved, we art sorrowful that we hast failed thee…” she lamented as she waited for him to offer the finishing blow.

Seeing her tears, he let out a boisterous laugh. “My friend, don’t worry, I’m not going to kill you,” he said, kneeling down to pat her mane.

“We had a pact after all, didn’t we,” he continued, rubbing his hands in perverse delight. “To help you get everything you ever wanted.”

“We… we dost not want thy aid any further,” she said, coughing up a bit of blood as she struggled to speak.

“Don’t worry, my friend,” he said as he gently stroked her mane. “Once I’m free, everything you ever desired will be yours. Respect, power…”

“Sister…” she moaned, as she thought of the horrors he would inflict upon the ponies they cared for.

“Thou shalt not touch him!” she hoarsely cried out through her bruised and bloodied lips.

“Together, my friend, we shall remake him into whatsoever you desire,” he said, offering her a malicious grin. “Yes, with my help your visions will soon be made reality.”

“But all in good time, my sweet little Luna,” he said, grabbing a hold of her blackened and bruised muzzle, forcing her to look him in his burning eyes. “First, I think we shall need to offer you a little encouragement.”

Drawing a nail lightly against her coat, he was tracing a curious pattern along her exposed flank. Feeling his sharp nail pressing against her skin, she bit her lip and whimpered as he began drawing blood. He drew his mouth towards her bleeding wound and trailed his tongue along it. Lightly smacking his lips, he gave her a malevolent smile as he ran his tongue along the edge of his fearsome teeth.

“Ah, there it is, the sweet bouquet of taint and corruption,” he said, digging his nail like a knife, deeper into her wound.

She let out a scream as she felt the Destroyer’s nail cutting through her flesh. It felt as though the blood in her veins had been replaced with cold fire as her wound began bleeding profusely. She saw to her horror that instead of being a healthy shade of crimson, her life’s essence was nearly pitch black. Seeing her blackened blood, she was immediately reminded of what had transpired back in the mines when she’d fought Lady Minoa for the Slave King’s hoof.

Noting her discomfort, Tiroc offered her a menacing smile. “It won’t be long now, my friend,” he said, patting her head.

“Nigh… Nightmare… please,” she weakly called out. “The Slave King…”

Hearing her desperate struggle, Tiroc laughed once more. “No one can help you now, Luna,” he whispered, as his eyes burned with hunger. “No one can help you now.”