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// Prima Tertiae Partis Tertiae Libri - Qui Pugnet Pro Nobis 
// Story: Non nobis Domine 
// by Dsarker 
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The streets of Canterlot were quiet. Grey skies loomed overhead. The pegasoi would be busy with the rubble in the streets and burying bodies. But even the streets were mostly empty of ponies. Twilight did not like it.

She remembered the last times she had walked these streets. The city had bustled with life. So many ponies, living, working, breathing. There was a life in the noise. That irritated Twilight when she had first come to the city, but now she was used to it. The lack was nagging.

It was almost a relief when she met a column of Guardsponies, marching down the street in silence. Shining Armour was at the head, and he nodded to Twilight. He was all business now, clearing the city of diamond dogs and removing rubble. She breathed in. It was reassuring to see another living being. It seemed so long since she had seen another on the street.

As the column was halfway past her, one of the Guardsponies broke formation and put his hooves around her. “Why didn’t you save us?!” he screamed, and she fell backwards in shock. Streaks of blood ran across her, and she saw that the pony was bleeding heavily. She backed up, crawling back to the wall.

“I did all I could. I tried,” she said, her breath rapid. “What else could I do!”

Her brother turned at the noise and came right up to the pony. He slapped the guard across the muzzle. “How dare you?”

“Shiney,” Twilight started. Her brother did not listen.

“We aren’t her friends. She doesn’t have responsibility for us. Why should she care how she killed us?” He turned his face to her. “All we are to her are pawns. Let us die to protect her. Isn’t that right, Twilight?”

Twilight shook her head, looked up to her brother’s face, and her eyes widened in terror. A weeping deep cut covered half of his face, diagonally down from the left. There was no skin below that scar, only bone and muscle and blood. She could not look away, entranced by the appalling sight. Twilight could see blood dripping from his barrel.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

She pushed herself from the ground and ran away. Down streets and corners, she fled till at last she could run no further. Twilight fell into a pile on the cobblestones, her eyes blinking away tears and her breath ragged. 

“Excuse me, would you be Miss Sparkle?” The voice quavered, and when Twilight turned to the voice, she found an elderly earth pony stallion hobbling across the street to her. He was using a crutch and was missing one of his forelegs, which had a bandage around the stump.

“Y-yes,” Twilight said, trying to calm her breath. “Can I help you, sir?” He smiled.

“Oh, no, thank you for asking. Well-” He frowned, considering the matter. “Now that I think of it, there is something you could do.” He lifted his stump. “This thing is being a lot of trouble. No matter how many bandages I put on- well, see for yourself.” He tore off the bandage with a tug from his mouth. The wound was still open. 

Drip.

“I’m sorry,” Twilight said, looking at the drip. She felt like she could not tear her gaze away.

Drip.

“I don’t think I know any healing magic that could help.”

Drip.

“Oh, don’t you mind about that, dear,” he said. “All I wanted was to ask you why you let this happen?”

Drip.

“Aren’t you and your friends the bearers of the Elements of Harmony?” He looked at her, a quizzical expression on his face.

Drip.

“I just don’t see why you couldn’t have stopped all this,” he said, gesturing to the crowd that had gathered.

Drip.

They were grey, and as Twilight looked at each, she saw the wounds from blades and clubs and claws across their bodies. 

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

They moved towards Twilight, and she looked around, trying to find another place to flee. But everywhere she looked, there were more of them.

“You could have saved me.”

“My daughter, did you help her?”

“It keeps hurting, why did you let it happen?”

The voices melded together, getting closer and closer. The closest reached out his hoof to her and-

“Twilight? Twilight!”

Twilight sat bolt upright. He was gone. The crowd was gone. She was not in the streets. She was here. In the Palace. Safe. Protected. Nopony was here to hurt her. Nopony wanted to hurt her.

“Twilight, are you alright? What happened?” 

She turned to the voice. It was a pony she did not recognise. The colours felt familiar. White coat and blue mane. Twilight knew that she knew the pony, but whoever he was, the name refused to come to her.

He came over. She knew the unicorn was a Guardspony, if only by his armour. 

“You must have been dreaming. Those bad dreams again?” She nodded. There were tears on her cheeks, though she had not noticed them. He had, however, and he wiped them away with his hoof. “It must be hard. I’m sorry I can’t protect you from them.”

She opened her mouth to speak. No sound came out.

“But… Well, you didn’t protect me, did you?” said the Guardspony. “Even though I came to protect you. I trusted you, Twilight.”

Twilight looked up at him, shaking her head. 

“You don’t remember me? Who would remember their own brother?” It was as like breaching a dam. His face suddenly made sense. “Just another Captain of the Guard. You already replaced me, didn’t you?”

Shining’s face flashed, and she drew back from the worm squirming out of an empty eye socket that disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. “I’m not dead, Twily.” Shining’s voice was plaintive. “But I can’t get myself free. Why won’t you help me? I’m so cold. Hungry, too. Please come to me, Twily.”

Just as he had come, he disappeared. Twilight shot up in her bed, looking around the room. It was the palace, she knew that. But was it real? Was any of it real? Was the voice real, some magic of his to reach her? 

A beam of light came in through the uncovered window. The start of another day. The questions would wait. If she had truly woken, at least.





Twilight treaded through the corridors of the Palace. The quakes had not hit it, but it was still wisest to watch where one was putting their hooves.

The greatest effect on the Palace was not on the structure, but the ponies. Since the attack, there were Guardsponies at every door and in most corridors in the Palace. As Twilight walked past them, she noticed that even the tiny signs of laxity she had noticed in them before missing. Perhaps it was the removal of corrupt officers—or perhaps it was the assassins. 

She had to identify herself each time she passed through, though. The constant checking reminded her of the last attack on the city. The changelings had almost been cleaner than this one. And easier to forget.

After passing through at least seven checkpoints, she found herself outside her destination. Twilight yawned as she opened the door to the Throne Room. It was now serving as the central processing for the process of clearing and rebuilding the city. There was enough bustle in the room that her yawn was unheard. She had to duck past two-file Guardsponies and several construction forestallions before she got to where she was going. 

“Morning, Twilight,” said Luna. Her yawn less contained than Twilight’s, but the Night Lady looked almost more energised than ever. Beside her was Terrus, and though Twilight knew that he was the brother to both Luna and her teacher, she still could not help but block herself off while he was around. Celestia was the only missing Royal, which was not surprising after yesterday’s events.

“Princess Luna. Prince Terrus.” Twilight bowed before each of them. “Where am I needed today?”

Luna frowned. “Twilight, I hope you’re not planning to stretch yourself today. Even my sister is resting after the strain. And if she has recognised her limits, then you should follow her lead.”

Twilight, at least in part, agreed. Her horn still ached, and that was by itself a bad sign. But work would take her mind from the dreams. She did not want to admit that was her reason, though. It felt almost foalish to think so much about dreams. 

“I suppose I just want to be useful.” That much, at least, was true. Luna seemed to accept the answer as Twilight’s nature. 

Terrus smiled. Perhaps it was his past identity assuming itself (or, as Twilight thought to herself, his real identity re-presenting), but it seemed like a predator’s grin. “You want to be useful, hmmm?” He nodded, and then continued. “Well, it may not be rebuilding Canterlot by hoof, but it will contribute. And it will be difficult. Do you still want to be useful?”

Twilight nodded, though it was slow. “I… think so.” 

The smile was genuine now, though shortlived. “Good. Our mutual friends are still in the city. My eyes on the scene put them arranging a burial.” Terrus was all business now. “I’m sure you are aware of the situation.”

Twilight closed her eyes and breathed in before she reopened them. “Yes, I know.” How she would ever explain what had happened to poor Applebloom to her sister was beyond Twilight’s understanding. That problem was still to come, though.

“As I thought. We need them here. Ponies have seen them and are… well, uncertain would be the first of it. Since the attacks, ponies will be on edge. I’ve been talking to Luna about… let’s just say some other plans. But we need to recognise their contribution to the defence of the city. It’ll help calm ponies and take away some fears that might still linger.”

As she listened to Terrus, Twilight agreed with the alicorn. It was not what she wanted to do. She had hoped that when they escaped, she would never see them again. But if that was what they needed her for, then she would do it. 

“I will do it, Your Highness.” As she said the words, Twilight thought she could detect the slightest hint of discomfort in the alicorn. “Farewell, Princess Luna, Prince Terrus.” There it was again. 





As the purple unicorn turned and left, Luna turned to her brother with an eyebrow raised. “Do you think she will agree with the rest of the plan?”

Terrus snorted. “Not a chance. That pony is far better than I am. She is honest to a fault. If you asked her, she would never agree.” He shook his head. “Blame it on me if she asks. I’m sure she already finds me more difficult to get along with than you. I at least have a talent in annoying ponies.”

It was Luna’s turn to shake her head. “You might well, but that’s not a good thing. That colourful zebra of yours?” He looked down; his eyes unable to meet her gaze. “What are you going to do with her?”

“I’m not sure.” He shrugged. “I couldn’t let them just kill her. But…” There was a grimace over his face. “Every pony she killed or hurt… I’m more responsible than she is. The just thing would be to execute me.”

Slap.

“This again?” hissed Luna. Gone was the amiable sister, and Terrus remembered a night long ago when she had that same tone. “I made my choice. So did she. You do not control us, dear brother.” Then it disappeared. “Terrus. We have both made mistakes. But both I and her have our own mistakes to own up for. You may have failed her. You may have failed me. But do not forget that we both failed ourselves. You can’t take all the blame.”

“Then…” Terrus was at a loss for words. “Well, then what do you suggest I do?”

“Do what you could not do for me,” was her answer. “Be there with her and for her. She will need somepony when her soul wakes.”






Johann relished in the digging.

It was almost like a strike back for normality, against all that he had seen and felt and heard and done over the past months.

The too-perfect grass and dirt fractured by the shovel. The pile of dirt and mud and stones contrasted with the sublime curves of the buildings. The feeling of honest ground as he walked in the pit.

But it was not just a remedy to the situation he was in. If it was just that, he would relish it without regrets. He climbed out and looked at the coffin. It felt too small for such a lively personality. 

Jacques. It was Johann who had led him here, to his death. Not even a death that he could have hoped for. No Saracen swords had pierced him, no Turkish arrows, no Moorish spears. A horde of beasts made men had brought him low. And for what? To defend this unchristian city?

No. Johann cut that thread of despair now. To give into that despair, tempting as it was, would be to fail in his service to God. That he refused to do. He had already experienced that temptation in the prison the ponies had kept them in, and he knew that if God had seen them freed from that, He would not let Jacques’ death be in vain. Besides, if he had confessed himself well, then Jacques would be right now either in the presence of the Lord or the cleansing fires. His soul was safe.

That thought made the surrounding sights worse. If nothing else, Johann had to admit that remaining here would not be an easy or relaxed time. Though the thought was difficult to believe, these ponies and others had a rational soul. Evangelising them was still difficult to take seriously, but it seemed they would need to do it.

Johann turned as Frederick approached. The priest remained vested, the black cope just an inch off the ground. He walked over to the grave and peered in. “That seems far enough. Hugo, Raymond, come out. It is time to lay our brother to rest.”

The two sergeants nodded and climbed out of the grave, dropping the shovels just beyond. The four walked over to the coffin, with the priest leading. The ponies had rushed it. For all that, the coffin seemed well made. The seam was almost invisible between the lid and the sides. 

Johann watched as Frederick walked around the coffin, chanting the prayers and sprinkling the coffin with holy water. Finished, the priest placed the aspergillium down on the ground. There were two ropes, each threaded through a handle on each side and underneath the coffin. Each took one end of a rope, and lifting up the coffin, walked towards the grave. 

When they reached the grave, they lowered the coffin down slowly, until they touched the ground. Frederick and Raymond let their ends of the rope go, and Johann and Hugo pulled the ropes clear. They did not speak, except the priest’s prayers. Johann had heard them before. This time, however, he did not keep attentive. Johann was looking down at the coffin. The dirt drummed as Raymond and Hugo shovelled it in. 

“Johann?”

Johann started and turned to the voice. Frederick had removed his cope, and he nodded towards the ponies standing just short of the grave. Applebloom was still there, but now Twilight Sparkle had joined her. The young one was beckoning towards him. Johann blinked his eyes twice and massaged his temple. Of course it would be now that the ponies would get involved again. At least the baucent still stood.

He walked over, breathing in as he did so. The ponies had not much bothered the Templars so far today, so there was that reprieve at least. The only one who had, Applebloom, had been more helpful than bother. It was thanks to her that they had acquired the coffin, talking a carpenter pony into making it for them. He thought she had, at least. 

There was the same light on Twilight’s horn as the familiar feeling of their translation came over him. Johann sighed. As convenient as it was, he still could not resist a minor frustration at it.





“Twilight Sparkle,” Johann said. His voice was flat, and his eyes (tired). Then he turned to Applebloom, and he smiled. “Our young gonfanon.” Twilight frowned. That word should have translated. Something had gone wrong. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

“Good morning, Johann,” Twilight said. She had to force herself to be welcoming to the human. “I have a message from the Princesses and the Prince for you.” 

That at least startled Applebloom. “Huh? Princesses and Prince?” Twilight nodded. She did not want the foal to distract her. Even though something about her was wrong, Twilight could not let her attention divert.

Johann crooked his head. “Prince, huh? The… Blue-something, did you say his name was?” He snorted. “From what little you related to us, I’m surprised to find you working for him.”

Twilight winced. She had wanted to forget her meetings with the gaoled humans. The rituals, their understanding of the world, their arrogance. What she had disliked most was how sure they were about the world, about their understanding of it. Nothing seemed to shake them. It was worse that she could recognise her own behaviour in that. 

“I suppose in a sense. But not really. A different pony. He seemed to know you, at least a little.” Twilight shrugged. “I am sorry, but I don’t really know what they want. Except to help make other ponies more… comfortable, I think, around you. By recognising the good you have done, and how you saved the city.”

She looked at Johann. He had never shown aggression towards the ponies. Even so, Twilight was not certain about how he would react. Even her broth- She pushed the thought aside. 

Johann did not move for a long time. Finally he nodded, once. “If he is who I think he is, tell the Penitent we will come.” Then he turned away.

“Wait!” called Twilight, and Johann turned back. “I… I have a favour to ask of you.” Johann’s eyebrows raised. “My brother. He’s been missing since the invasion. I know it’s unlikely, but… Did you see him?”

Johann’s face softened. “No, Twilight. I’m afraid there was only one pony other than Applebloom that we saw, and… well, she is dead. The leader of those invaders held her at sword point to protect him, and she fought rather than live.”

The words were not what Twilight had wanted. A firm yes or no that he was dead, she could take that. Even knowing he was almost certainly dead, the slightest hope felt like a rope being thrown to a drowning pony frayed to a single thread.

“I… Thank you, Johann,” she said, her voice a whisper. “I know I don’t deserve that favour but thank you anyway.” She turned, and felt a touch on her withers.

“It is never easy to lose a brother, Twilight,” said Johann, his voice quiet. “Do not give into despair.”

Twilight nodded. “I won’t. Thank you.” With those words, she turned, and left. 





Applebloom had listened in to the start of the conversation. The mention of the prince had surprised her, but not as much as Twilight’s brother. That was hard to hear.

She looked down at her hooves. Yesterday seemed so long ago now. She could remember getting ready to help the crying ghost, and the second time these people had saved her. The long way underground, fighting the diamond dogs and ghosts the entire way. And then…

And then he died, and I couldn’t save him.

She had fought the diamond dogs who would have hurt him more before he died. But it did not matter. All she had known was that she could not leave. Even when it seemed like all hope was lost.

It would have been.

The dogs came like a tidal wave. Even though they did not look as big, as strong, as cunning as the ones who had left, Applebloom knew that she could not stop them. 

They broke as they closed, no more one wave but a storm. The first was short and skinny, but with massive legs. They did not help him when she jumped forward, kicking one out and sending him tumbling backwards into another two. 

“Come at me! My big sister taught me how to kick good!” she said, matching the words with action as another chanced the foal. Applebloom met him with a savage hoof-crack to his skull. He was down and would have a nasty headache when he woke.

The strikes dissolved from thought as the dogs came at her again, now three at a time. 

“I’m not giving up! You don’t scare me!” The kicks and strikes seemed to be all one action, moving from one to another without break. 

It could not go forever, though. Now the dogs surrounded her again. She kept swivelling; eyes focused for any movement.

Then it came. A howl, deep and low. The dogs stopped, each listening. Nobody moved.

They ran. The dogs burst like a dam, each running away into the city. They seemed to be running from each other as much as anything else. Applebloom waited, still tense. This had to be a trick of some sort. Some way to catch her off-guard.

The clatter of hooves changed that idea. Slow, but steady. She looked to see the other Templars. They looked exhausted. At least to her. Applebloom had not seen them much before, but the urgency with which they had rode, with which they fought—it was all gone now. The one who did not carry weapons almost fell from the horse he rode when he dismounted. He came over to Applebloom and looked at the fallen Templar. He grabbed a strip of purple material from a pouch at his side, kissed it, and put it over his head. Then he took something like a t from the pouch, but with something on it. Putting it to the dying Templar’s eyes, he started speaking.

The Templar died before anypony could come to help them.

When the first Templar had finished speaking, Johann came over. He had not gone to the fallen Templar, but to Applebloom. He had said something, pointing to her. Applebloom looked down and could not think of how to react.

The Templar was not the only one who had died. And now Twilight’s brother. Was it worth it?

Applebloom looked down at her cutie mark. All the time she and the other Cutie Mark Crusaders had spent trying to find their marks, and now she would join Scootaloo in having hers. It did not seem to make sense to her: it looked like a flag of white and black, and Applebloom had not seen any flags recently. But Johann had seen some significance in it. 

“Excuse me, mister Johann,” she said. The Templar turned towards her. “When you came back to me, yesterday. You said something about this cutie mark. What was that?”

He tilted his head. “It was… well, in short I said its name. The baucent. It is a symbol of our order. It is fitting for you to bear it. No-one may stop fighting while it stands, no matter how dire the situation looks.”

Applebloom nodded, slowly. “I… I suppose that makes sense.” She looked at the grave. The three Templars were now kneeling around it. “What was his name?”

“Jacques,” Johann said. “He was a good man. I pray he rests in Christ now.” Though the words did not make sense to Applebloom, she nodded. Whatever it was, it had to be good.

“What will you do now? Will you come back to Ponyville?” Applebloom regretted the question even as she asked it. Johann had just buried his friend. Why would he want to talk about something else like that?

He sighed. “I do not really know. I had a plan… but now, I’m not sure.” He shrugged. “It is all in God’s hands now. I will trust Him.” 

More words that she did not know. “I suppose,” she said. 

Johann turned his head to the grave for a second and then back to Applebloom. “I apologise for this, Applebloom, but I must go to pray for him before we meet the Prince and Princesses again.”

“I understand,” she said. It did not really make sense to her, but things had not made sense like they should for a long time. And now Twilight Sparkle, who was the brainiest pony she knew, was going to be too busy to ask.

As Applebloom watched Johann go back to the grave and kneel with the others, she wished she was home. Applejack could be difficult sometimes, and way overprotective, but she knew a lot more about big pony stuff than she did.





Twilight did not appreciate the wait in the Throne Room. It felt unnerving to be around the royals, and the steady ebb and flow of Guardsponies coming in and leaving with updates from the city.

Princess Luna and Prince Terrus did not help matters. They did not even look at Twilight, nor speak. Instead, the two of them were looking at a map they had laid out on a small table between them. Occasionally, one of them would point at part of it, and the other would either nod or shake their head.

The noise in the room was coming from the Guardsponies. Though the fighting was finished, there were patrols going through the city. A single assassin could… She did not finish the thought. As well, there were still dead, missing, and trapped ponies. The Guards’ job being cataloguing all the information found. Twilight was glad they were mostly quiet about that part. She did not want to overhear them say his name.

The noise quietened, and one by one the Guardsponies faced the door. Twilight frowned, and followed their gaze. It was closed, but she could just hear… something. Some noise from the corridor outside. It repeated, closer this time. Then another noise began—steady sound of metal on stone. It came closer.

Now she could make out the first noise. It was ponies, shouting something. The noise was closer now, just outside the room. The Guardsponies were lining up in ranks facing the door. Spears and crossbows were out. Twilight’s horn tingled. Please no. Not another fight.

The doors slammed open, and she felt relieved. It was only the Templars. Just behind them was Applebloom, and then a Guardspony carrying half a spear. 

“Sorry, Your Highnesses,” said the Guardspony. “They wouldn’t stop when we asked them.”

“Thank you, Guardspony,” said Princess Luna, her voice calm. “These are our guests. You may go now.” The Guardspony nodded and backed away, closing the door. That left only the lines of Guards surrounding the Templars and Applebloom now. A few of them were now hesitating, their heads turning from side to side. One, who had seen the foal, was relaxing, his weapon now up at his side.

“Your Highness,” called out one of them. He was a major, from the rank signifiers on his armour. “We need to check them for weapons and the like.”

At the sound of hooves on the marble floor, Twilight turned to see Terrus now striding down, eyes flashing. “Major Rook.”

The major turned his head. “Yes, Your Highness?”

“Let them go.” The major frowned, then nodded. 

“As you wish, Your Highness.” He lifted his hoof, and the Guardsponies backed off, circling around to their section of the room. Then the Templars walked up to Princess Luna, Terrus beside them.

“Twilight?” murmured Luna. “Is your spell still active?” Twilight nodded once, then shrugged.

“I believe so, Your Highness. But who knows?” 

Luna nodded. “Well, I suppose we will find out.” Then she turned to the Templars. “Welcome to Canterlot Castle. I wish we had a better greeting to give you, after your past experiences here.”

The Templars stood, not speaking. Frowning, Terrus whispered something to Luna, who nodded.

Now Terrus spoke to the Templars, but Twilight could not understand him. It was the same language as the Templars used. Whatever her suspicions of Terrus had been beforehoof, now it was twofold. How did he know their tongue? When did he learn it? Where had he learned it? Twilight had studied enough geography during her time in Canterlot during the imprisonment to know that these Templars did not come from anywhere on their world—at least not from anywhere known.

One of the Templars, Johann, nodded, and replied in the same way to Terrus. Did he assume there was another translation spell? Did he already know that the Prince spoke his tongue? All these frustrating questions. She hated unanswered questions at the best of times, and this was far from that.

“Johann thanks you for your greeting, sister, and passes along his condolences and prayers for your fallen subjects.” Twilight glanced at first Princess Luna, and then Applebloom. Luna seemed unperturbed by her brother’s skill. Applebloom looked almost like she was in awe. Was she the only pony in the room who was worried about this?

The muttering from the Guardsponies seemed to ease her mind, at least on that front. Or make it worse. She had not liked how the major had acted, and the thought of imitating him so much was not a happy one. 

“Excuse me, Princess Luna,” she said, hoping she would agree. “But would you like to reapply the translation spell? It might be easier to talk directly, rather than through a translator…” Twilight trailed off, almost regretting her words even as she said them. 

Luna looked at her for a time, not speaking. Then as if no time had passed, she nodded. “Very well, Twilight. I think your suggestion is a wise one.” Looking to Terrus, Luna added, “Make our guests aware of our plan.”

Terrus nodded, and then rattled off a few sentences in the Templar tongue. Johann, to Twilight’s guess, did not look happy. But he nodded. Odd that such a gesture would be so… universal.

Twilight began the spell. Even the slight strain of it was enough to send a twinge through her head, and she closed her eyes, as if cutting off her vision would cut off the pain. But it was only for a moment, and then it was done. She took a deep breath in and out. Twilight was used to her magic just… well, just working. Now it was an effort, and she did not like where that was going.

She opened her eyes. Princess Luna was looking at her curiously, but it did not seem like the others were paying any attention to her. It seemed like the Princess had a question for Twilight, but then she turned back to the Templars. “Are you able to understand me now?” 

“Yes, your highness,” said Johann. “Why did you call us here?” The Templar’s voice was steady, but Twilight thought she could detect a hint of impatience just below the surface.

“We wished to thank you for your part in defending our city,” said Princess Luna. If she had picked up the impatience, she gave no sign. “Our first meetings with you have been fraught with mistrust on our side. We would like also to apologise for this.” She bowed deeply to the Templars. “I, and my subjects, are sorry.”

That caused a hush from the Guardsponies. Twilight could imagine how they looked, faces agape and turning to look at each other. It did not surprise her though. Not from her interactions with the Night Lady during the imprisonment of the Templars. Applebloom merely looked confused.

It was the Templars that most surprised Twilight. Johann looked to be a mix of cautious acceptance. Frederick merely nodded, as if he had expected the entire thing all along. The two others kept their faces carefully schooled, almost as if the Princess were talking about the weather.

There was silence in the room. To Twilight, it felt like it had gone on forever when it finally broke.

“Thank you,” said Johann. “I had not expected such.”

“I know,” said the Princess. There was a sympathetic smile on her face. “I have experienced something like that before.” Then, lifting up a hoof, she pointed to the table with the map unfurled. “Please, come here. I have a proposal for you.”





Twilight’s eyes were still wide as the Templars and Applebloom left, and even the Guards were muttering. Such a proposal was unheard of. At least in Twilight’s memory, such a gift was… The Templars had not seemed surprised, and that, more than the gift or the giver, was the strangest part of it all.

“Well, that went well,” said Prince Terrus. Princess Luna nodded, a small smile on her face. “Now we get to the more mundane preparations for our commemoration.” His horn lit up, and from under the map came another scroll. This one was filled with names, neatly written down. Twilight looked at the names, and gasped as she saw two that she recognised.

“My brother, and me? What’s that list?” she said, unable to hide an accusation from her voice. Terrus turned to her and sent the list her way. Looking at it, she saw scores of names. She and her brother were not the only ones. About half of them had ranks before them, and she crooked her head, turning between Terrus and Princess Luna. 

“That,” said Terrus, nodding towards the list, “is our list of honour. Those ponies who worked, fought, suffered and died to protect Canterlot. Those ponies, including yourself and, well, and your brother, will be honoured at the same ceremony tomorrow.” 

Twilight felt uncertain as she passed the scroll back to Terrus. “Honoured? How?” The answer was not hard to imagine. Most likely there would be no change from the ceremonies she had attended in the past. A procession, a medal and polite applause. There was something in her that rebelled at the thought, even though she had been happy with it in the past.

Princess Luna’s face turned to her, and Twilight felt like the scrutiny was going deeper than she wanted. “The usual ceremonies would still be possible. I believe the grand hall is still untouched. Brother?” Terrus nodded. “Then we shall do that. Unless you have a special plan, Twilight Sparkle?”

“No.” Twilight shook her head. “It’s not that. I… I suppose I’m wondering if this is the right time for such a celebration. Straight after the battle. Wouldn’t most ponies still be mourning? Or searching for the injured?”

Luna nodded, and now there was a sad smile on her face. “Yes, you are right, Twilight Sparkle. That just means it is more important for us to do this now. Many of these ponies are mourning. And that mourning will colour their memory of this day, and all those involved. Leaving it as it is… That would create a breeding ground of misery.” She sighed. “Unfortunately, Twilight Sparkle, there are times when we must set aside our personal feelings for what is best for the people.”

Twilight lowered her head. “I understand. But… Not for me.” She raised her head again, looking at both of the Royals. “I do not want to be honoured. All I did was protect myself. It is not worthy of honour.”

Their reactions were almost the opposite of what Twilight expected. Terrus was nodding, almost as if he had expected it. Princess Luna’s face was quizzical. Twilight raised her hoof. “Not for me at least. My brother… well, he’s not here at the moment. I will stand in for him. I don’t think my parents will be ready… or Princess Cadance, for that matter.” She winced as she said it. “Has she even been told?”

Princess Luna’s face told her the answer to that. Perhaps that was for the best. It was not confirmed that he was dead. And though she did not want to think about her dreams, well, perhaps there was some hope.

The sound of the doors opening with haste interrupted the discussion. Turning towards the door, a Guardspony Pegasus came in, a scroll tucked under his wing. Twilight was turning back when she noticed there was something that marked this as different: the Pegasus was coming to them, not to the other Guardsponies. He bowed quickly and handed the scroll over to Terrus. 

Terrus merely looked at the sealed scroll and nodded without reading. “Earlier than expected. I apologise sister, Twilight Sparkle, but I must go. I have another engagement to meet.” He turned without any further ado and followed the Pegasus pony out the door.

The Princess smiled as Terrus left. “Their first true meeting,” she said, just loud enough for Twilight to hear. She turned to Twilight. “Let us hope it goes well.”

Twilight still did not understand. “What do you mean, Princess?”

“You will need to ask him that question, Twilight Sparkle.”





“When I’m out,” the mare said, face twitching from one guard to the other, “I’ll kill all of you.” She thumped the bars that separated her from them. 

There was no response from the guard that she could see. It did not help that the room was barely lit. Only a single torch, and that far from the cell she was locked in. “I killed a bunch of you. I’ll do it again.”

The guards' heads turned. But it was not to her. Hoofbeats, coming towards the room. Both of them saluted. Dizzy spat. 

“Here to finish off the job, father?” she said, looking at the green pony before her. She did not even know his name. But she knew him. She had experience enough of him and his type before. Arrogant. Domineering. Lying. Using. Stupid. Dizzy had enough experience to know that the zebras were truly no different from the ponies except in colour.

And both still bled red. That was the only colour that mattered.

“Sergeant, Private. You may leave. Leave the doors unlocked,” said the alicorn. He did not even listen to her. 

Dizzy rushed the cell-wall. It hurt. But the anger was louder than the pain. The guards looked uneasy now, even as they left. Good. When she gutted them, they would be properly scared first.

Something felt off about the thought, but she dismissed it. Introspection was not her ‘thing’. Not anyone’s thing but those who wanted to control you in secret. And that sort of control she refused—of herself, or anyone else. 

“Aww, is daddy afraid the ponies won’t like him when he kills his dear daughter?” she said. She hated him, but more than she hated him she hated that he had not killed her. Had not even thought enough of her to treat her as a threat. After all she had done. Dizzy was just… Just something to him. Not something worth care. “Go on then. Get it over. Gonna get all weepy on me?”

He shook his head. “I am not here to kill you, daughter. This is something that will be more painful than that, for both of us.” Before Dizzy could respond, she saw his horn light up. It was more than she had seen any unicorn do. What was he up to? How would it be painful for him? Dizzy tensed herself, ready for whatever he would do.

The light surged out from his horn, enveloping her. It was not a mere pain. Pain she could deal with. It was fear. Dread. Yes, there was pain. Regret. She tried to focus, tried to keep hold of herself, of her anger. It was too much, too overwhelming.

“What is this? What are you doing?!” she howled.

“Reminding you of something.” 

She screamed, and everything faded from sight.





When she awoke, she was not in the cell. She was not anywhere in Equestria. All around her was a purple haze, tinged with black swirls. Looking down, she saw thick iron chains wrapping her body. Dizzy twisted and turned, fighting against the restraints. “Where am I? Why did you chain me?”

A shape issued forth from one of the swirls. It was her father. “You are within your own mind, Frie. And nopony has chained you–except for yourself.” He moved to touch one of the chains, and his hoof passed through. “Only you can free yourself here. But I want to help you.”

Dizzy laughed without mirth. “You want to help me, father? After twenty years of leaving me to suffer. Oh, I am so glad.” 

“Yes, Frie. I do. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be here,” he said. “And you would never know the truth. You’ve been a slave, all the time you thought you were free, caged here in your mind long before you were caged in body.” 

He gestured to the chains. “Look at them. Do you feel free? Do you feel like you can do whatever pleases you?”

Dizzy struggled with the chains again. “I don’t care about this. I hate you, father, and when I get out I’ll kill you and everyone else.” Again the struggle was fruitless. 


“Is that all there is to you, Frie? One sole trait to define yourself by?”


“Stop talking! And stop calling me that! My name is Dizzy!”


“You’ve forgotten how to stop being angry.”


“I don’t care if I’ve forgotten! It doesn’t matter! I’ll be angry as much as I want!”


“Even if it doesn’t help you?”


The question stopped her for a second. “What do you mean?”

“Why did you attack Canterlot?”

That was an easy answer. “Because the ponies tricked me. And betrayed me. Nobody can do that to me!”

“Hmm.” The pony nodded, slowly. “So it was all the ponies who tricked you? Every single one of those ponies betrayed you?”

Dizzy shook her head, snorting. “No. It was one of them. Princess Celestia.” She could see the princess all around her, reflected on the walls of her mindscape. “She tried to use me.” 

“Oh, and did you find her and stop her?” Why did he keep asking those damned questions? What did he get out of it, except angering her?

“No. It stopped mattering.” Dizzy sneered at him. It was all she could do to even try holding to her own. “What, do you never change your mind?” She nodded down at herself. “Or did you just never care about me at all?”

“I do care, Frie. That’s why I’m here.” He shook his head. “But you’re lying to yourself as well as me. You didn’t change your mind. You’re still angry at her, aren’t you?” He looked around, pointing to the different images of the princess around her. “You didn’t change your mind. Your anger changed it. You were blinded by your anger. You didn’t care who it was you hurt, you just wanted to hurt someone.”

“No.” The words made sense but damn him. She was not going to be told what she was like by him. “No. That’s not true.”

No, it’s not. Dizzy looked around. Someone else, he, or she, or it was speaking. Whatever they were, Dizzy recognised it. Not the words, not the sound, but something else, just beyond that. 

All at once, for an instant a breeze blew. There before her it was. It looked like a distended pony crossed with something else, a bulbous torso set above the scaly quadrupedal form. It was darker than black. Even the black swirls seemed to be lighter than it. Its tail was serrated, sharp ridges poking out like a dragon’s. It whipped around, as if with a mind of its own. 

It slunk up to Dizzy, its hooves caressing her… or her chains. Up close, Dizzy could now see several wounds across the thing’s body, each one oozing a thick bronze liquid, dripping steadily like tar. She saw its two deep-set eyes, each blank and unmoving. 

Ignore him. It was almost as if it merely thought its words into being. He left you, all alone, and now he gives you advice? When I have been with you all the way.

“Oathbreaker.” Her father’s voice was different. More forceful. “You forget who bound you last.” 

There was no time for her to see what happened. All at once the thing was around him, a deep snarl imprinting itself on the space. Two rows of fangs appeared in its mouth. His eyes kept on it. When it struck, it was so fast. Dizzy did not even see the movement. But he had. A spear, all pale green, was all that it bit, and its howl was deafening in its silence.

“Here is your gaoler, Frie. Listen not to his voice.” He spun the spear around, and the thing went flying off, before coming back down before the pony. “I will see her freed before I die, fiend.” 

He turned to her for just a second. “See now. Oathbreaker’s anger is blind, at all before it. So it is fierce, but any may turn it against itself.” The two clashed again, spear against all the beast’s body. Legs grew and warped, turning hooves into claws. Two of them wrapped around the spear, and though he sent them off with another blast of magic, Dizzy could see that it had left deep gouges in the spear’s haft.

It made sense. Focused anger, directed anger, was better. Dizzy was cunning enough to guide it. She did not need that anger to guide her. “Yes. Wasting my anger on others… it does not help me. It wastes me before I can accomplish my own ends.” Dizzy nodded, and as she did, one of the chains snapped.

Her father smiled. “Do you see, beast? She will be free of you.”

Who do you trust, Fres? Oathbreaker’s whisper was almost a whine. I have never failed you, while he betrayed you. It circled around, its empty eyes still never making contact with anyone.

“I did,” said her father, now backing up to her. “And I was wrong. I let my grief control me like the anger is controlling you. But if it takes my life, I will see you freed from these chains.” He turned around, the spear tip at his throat. All it would take was for Dizzy to give it the tiniest touch…

Do it. Oathbreaker was there, just behind her. Kill him. 

Dizzy looked down. This was what she had always wanted. To take revenge. Except something was missing. She was supposed to feel happy. Joyful. Exultant. But then why did she feel so deflated? The anger was there, but there was nothing else.

“I thought… This was what I wanted…” She looked into her father’s eyes. There was no fear. He seemed at peace. Why? How?

“Frie.” He focused his eyes on hers. “You have your entire life to work out what you truly do want, without being controlled by this anger.”

She wanted to believe him. He seemed to understand. But she still had one thing worrying her. “You left me.” How could she know he would not do the same again?

“Nothing on, nothing above, nothing below Equestria will take me apart from you.” He reached out a hoof to her. “I will not leave you again.”

No. He left you to him. The voice was a hiss. And who saved you but me? You need me. The images of Celestia disappeared, replaced by HIS image: a zebra, hooded and face in darkness. Only his muzzle was clear. It bore a smile, one that Dizzy knew well. 

She remembered that one. The Master. “No,” Dizzy said, closing her eyes tight. “Don’t make me remember.” Even closed, she could still see everything. 

Did your father protect you from the beatings? Oathbreaker circled the two, its tail whipping back and forth. Did your father keep you safe when he ordered you to kill or be killed? No. It was I. I protected you. And I will keep you safe, even now, Fres.

At those words, her father jabbed out with the spear. “Protected her? I know well how you protected her.” It howled as the blow struck home, but the wound closed over as soon as he drew the spear out. “Encouragement. Pleasure. You did not protect her, you drugged her.” 

Oh yes? Oathbreaker cackled, the sound almost off-key. Then tell me, who got her…this? With those words, it reached out to the image of the zebra, and pulled the head off. Blood dripped from the torn neck, and its forked tongue licked at it. Who saved you when you were in tears? 

Dropping the head through the mindscape, it sneered at her father. And he has nothing else to say. With these words, Oathbreaker charged. It was a loping charge, each of its four clawed legs circling fully at it went. Her father levelled the spear, awaiting the beast, but even so the beast kept the charge.

When it hit, her father was sent flying back, out through the side, and disappeared. Everything went dark, and the last thing Dizzy remembered was Oathbreaker turning back towards her.





Terrus’ eyes opened with a flutter and he stood with a start. It was a second before he remembered where he was: the prison. There was his daughter in front of him, still in the cell. She seemed to be sleeping, tossing and turning as she did.

The memories of the restoration of her mind came flashing back, and he slumped. He had failed her. Like he had before. All because he had trusted more in his abilities than he should. How many more would have to suffer for his pride?

A hoof tapped him on his withers, and he spun. It was his sister, Luna. All Terrus could do was hope that the shame he felt was not on his face. 

“Brother,” she said, a small smile on her face. “How goes your mission?”

Terrus breathed in and sighed. “Not well. I made a mistake with that one, and I do not think I can mend it.” He shrugged and let his head drop. “I’m not strong enough to do it. Not wise enough, either. And…”

“And?”

“I’ve seen, now, what I did to her.” He half-turned, and pointed to the unconscious zony. “Her mind is… chained. All that anger, all that rage, it has trapped her more than the cell she’s in. Even… I do not believe even He could have helped her.”

Luna frowned. “He helped Her though. And for all that I loved our mother, She was… unstable.” Luna looked at the zony, and then back to Terrus. “What brings them to mind, brother? We have not talked on them since well before our exiles.”

He nodded. “I know. Well… Something I found there. Our father’s spear.”

The frown deepened. “But that’s impossible. It changed. It should be in Ponyville. Where did you find it?” Luna paled. “You didn’t- brother, that’s insane. What if-“

“Not His… specific spell. But you remember Him and mother’s…” He trailed off. “It doesn’t matter. It’s not dangerous. I have ironed even the few problems that His apprentice found in it out.” Terrus laughed. “They did not call Him the Taciturn Sorcerer for nothing.” 

His face softened. “But I do not have His power or control.” Terrus sighed. “For all that it will work… I cannot do it.” His face fell down again, staring at the ground.

“Brother…” Luna moved alongside him. “You have been like this for as long as I have known you. Focused so much on… on a sure victory, I suppose. Everything you did has been a preparation for the next. And when it didn’t work for you…” She waved at him. “This. Every time, brother. You remember what you did when I was banished?”

Terrus nodded. “Of course.”

“Did it work?”

The tips of his mouth turned up. “Hah. I asked her the same question.”

“Then perhaps it’s the same problem.” Luna stood up. “For the meantime, take this.” Something dropped to the ground, and Terrus turned to look. It was the ring that he had given her, so long ago. “Don’t give up now, brother. Despair can be infectious.”





When he reappeared, Terrus saw one thing moving in the mindscape. It was Oathbreaker, its claws seeming to sew together the broken chains around his daughter again. It had seen him too and snarled as it leapt from the unmoving zony.

You’re not welcome here, master, it said. 

Even as it spoke, Terrus stretched out his awareness. Where had it come from? Where was it now? There! A slender haft, reaching to the spear’s point. It was all made from that same metal, the blood of the earth. Even as it was, it was lighter than anything he could have imagined. On its side were etched the words Light’s Guard. There was no doubt in his mind. 

“Leave, Oathbreaker,” he said, grasping the spear in his magic. It was perfectly balanced for such control. His father had ensured that.

You have already lost, fool. With that, it surged towards him. Terrus waited for it.

Before it could hit him, it slammed into something between them. What?

Terrus allowed a smirk. “Watch where you step, fool.” Jabbing with the spear, Oathbreaker was sent flying back, and Terrus moved to his daughter.

“Wake, dear one.” She did not move until he touched her forehead with his hoof. Then her eyes fluttered open, and she looked around in confusion.

“Where- father? What…”

“Hush. Do not panic.” He kept an eye out, watching Oathbreaker’s movements. It seemed to have settled, perched opposite of him, with his daughter in the middle. It was watching them, with eyes no longer blank. “I am here to finish what I started.”

“But…It is right. Oathbreaker was the one who protected me. Who rescued me from the Master. It set me free.” Even now, a single tear beaded up and slid down her muzzle. “What else can I do… but serve him?”

“No.” Terrus wiped away the tear. “It did not set you free. You made yourself free. It merely bound you again, forcing you to trade one servitude for another. Only this one was more hidden. There was no-one you trusted, was there? Nothing that you trusted, except for that sword?”

Now the tears were flowing freely. “No. Nobody really… I was just an outcast. An orphan. Nobody wanted me. Not even you.”

His hoof on his sobbing daughter, Terrus could see the beast moving slowly towards them. I wanted you, Fres. And I still do. Terrus narrowed his eyes, then moved around his daughter. Now he was in between the two. 

“You’ll have to get through me first.” He raised the spear up, as if readying to stab the thing. Then he slammed it down, the haft hitting one of the links in the chains. It snapped explosively, both ends flying off. “Come to me, beast.”

As the link burst, the mindscape went dark. All that Terrus could see as it changed was Oathbreaker’s form warping and moulding. Something like a mouth appeared on its legs before it was hidden from sight. 

Now the only light came from the spear, which shed a blue glow. It was not much in the dark space. The spear seemed to tug at his hold, and Terrus could see the outline of a mouth filled with rows of sharp teeth biting down on the end. Before he could react, it had released it and seeped back into the darkness, leaving broken teeth embedded in the spear.

It should have screamed out at the pain, but only laughed. It was a thin cackle, seeming to slide through the ears straight into the brain. A good blow, but you cannot stop me. No mere pony can stop us, can they, Fres? They mock, and they act so high. But they are nothing special. There is nothing that sets them apart. 

A light appeared in the darkness. It looked like the head of a pony, but it looked warped. The eyes were slits, like a dragon’s; the ears ended in a sharp tip, and the teeth were sharpened to fine points. It was coming towards the two, its mouth biting through the void as it did. Another appeared, and then another. The first had orange flames for a mane, the second a frozen wave, and the third a raging sea. As they approached, they repeated the same words.

“Dirty.”


“Filthy.”



“Disgusting.”


“Rotten.”


“Appalling.”



“Unwelcome.”



“Unworthy.”


“Misbegotten.”


“Mindless.”


The words repeated, each of the heads getting closer. Terrus looked, sweeping his gaze across. The spear twitched, but now the heads were too close. If he left them, they would hurt her. He breathed in, deeply, then lashed out with the spear at the closest head. It screamed and disappeared. Before he could move to the next, the head had appeared again, back where it had first appeared.

Wherever Oathbreaker had conjured these, they would not be dispelled so easily. What was their hold? Without having time to think, he speared the second, and the third just behind it. Before he could feel relieved at having bought more time, there was a stinging pain in his side. He spun round and swung down with his spear at the dark mouth that had latched onto him. It faded away, leaving only a dark oozing from the cut. Terrus knew what that meant. If he did not break the hold soon, that oozing would drain all his power. Then both he and his daughter would be helpless.

Adrenaline now surging through him, he spun around, looking for the first head. There it was, the flames now a raging fire. It kept its thoughtless chant as it came towards them. What on Equestria could its weakness be?

He stopped. Anger. That was what fed these things. What was empowering them. Only by removing the anger could they be stopped, and the anger that manifested them was his daughter’s. With that, Terrus lowered the spear. Adding his anger could not defeat them.

But what could?

Love? That answer struck him as an absurd cliché. Besides, anger was possible in love as well. No. It could not be that. Wasting time on that was-

A look at them made him frown. The heads had stopped moving, though they continued the chant. What could have done that? The only change was… was lowering the spear. Taking the time to think. Patience. Forgiveness. That could not be mixed with this anger. 

Terrus dropped the spear, and it faded at once. Even as its glow disappeared, the space seemed lighter. He could just make out the dim outline of his daughter. Now only bound by a single chain, she had her hooves blocking her ears, and her eyes screwed shut. Perhaps…

She turned to him as he approached, even with her eyes closed. That at least made sense. It was her mind they were in. Even with those hooves in and her eyes closed, she could perceive everything here.

“Daughter,” he said, hoping that this was right. “I was wrong to abandon you. I am sorry, and I ask your forgiveness.” He kept his eyes on her, ignoring the flashes of movement from beyond.

She looked at him, opening her eyes. “I… I don’t know what you mean.”

“Forgiveness. To let go of the pain. To recognise what I did to you, but to no longer hold it against me.” Terrus bowed his head. “Will you forgive me?”

“I… Yes. Yes, father, I forgive you.” With those words, the darkness continued to fade. Now Terrus could see her face, could see the confusion written there. It must have been mirrored on his face, if lesser, but Terrus could taste success now.

“Look, Frie. Look at these ponies here,” he said, pointing to the heads. “They are wrong about you. But if you let them decide how you will feel about them, that is giving them power over you. Forgive them. Be over them. Otherwise they will continue to haunt you and continue to hunt you down.”

She looked at them, one then to another. “But… listen to them. They hate me. They despise me.” Their chants had not ceased, despite their lack of movement towards the two. 

Terrus nodded. “And more fool them. But do you know what the best way to get over those that hate us is? To excel anyway. They want to bring you down? Then do not let them. If you continue to let their foolishness guide how you act, you will be acting just as they would want you to act.” He shook his head, and let a small smile come to his face. “Instead, forgive them.”

His daughter nodded, though it was a small and uncertain one. Then she turned to the first head. “I forgive you.” Even as she said the words, the head screamed and disappeared. Though Terrus watched, it never reappeared. 

The darkness lifted, and now Terrus could see Oathbreaker. It had lost the coherence it previously had, now a mass of tentacles and mouths. It was moving towards the two, each of its mouths now uttering incomprehensible syllables. Terrus steeled himself, and once more moved to put himself between it and his daughter. “You must let go of your anger now, Frie. Oathbreaker can sense its doom, and it will do whatever it can to…” His chest felt tight, and Terrus stopped speaking, just breathing in, and out. That bite must be acting faster than he expected. “No more time, Frie. Forgive them. Let it go. Break its…”

He could not speak anymore. But she did not need him to. Even as Oathbreaker surged towards them, moving faster and faster, his daughter turned to the two heads. Terrus could not hear her words. All he could hear was the rush of blood pounding in his ears. Whatever it was, it seemed to work. The second and then the third head disappeared with a pop, but whatever last words they might have uttered were completely covered.

His daughter turned towards him and said something. His eyes were losing focus. She must have seen something in his face, and she turned slightly aside. Again, she said something, but he could not hear it. 

All at once, the last chain still around her burst apart, not a single link left whole. She… She was free.

Now he only needed to break the link. His horn glowed brightly, as he tried to hold himself long enough to break it cleanly. The light filled the space with white, and then everything faded.





Terrus' eyes opened, and he breathed in the air. He was back in the cellblock, his daughter just before him. His vision swayed, and before he could react, his legs had given way. The battle had cost him. His breathing was ragged, but Terrus watched his daughter, hoping for some sign, some hint that she had been totally freed.

She did not seem to be moving, even breathing, but nothing Terrus did could force his body to move. It was as if it was under somepony else's control. At last, she coughed. It seemed like it had freed her from whatever hold was on her, and he could see her chest rising and falling again. He closed his eyes, relieved. 

It was not long before he opened them again, being shaken awake. Although his body still felt distant and beyond him, the voice was not.

"Wake up, brother." It was Luna. Her voice was matter-of-fact, entirely calm. "You've overstretched yourself, but you need to stay with me before you rest."

"What... what do you mean," he said, even those words feeling like an impossible task. "I'm... I'm done."

"Not yet. Still a long time to go." Terrus could feel himself being picked up. There was nothing he could do to resist it. "Brother, stop fighting me. You need to stay."

"Not fighting," he said, before a spasm of coughs rushed through him. "Sleep..."

"I told you no already, Terrus." It was the same voice he would use to remind an errant student. "Just a short way to go."

The journey was a blur. Terrus could only see a series of flashes, as he fell into and out of consciousness. Something hurt, but he could not tell what. "Where..."

"The hospital, Your Highness." He turned towards the speaker. Somehow Luna had become a pair of Guardsponies, an Earth pony and a pegasus. "Almost there." 

The first Guardspony yelled something, but all Terrus could tell was that it was loud. Then the Guardspony seemed to morph, back into his sister again. She was saying something. It must have been important, but all Terrus could hear was a dull roar in the background.

Then there was a purple unicorn. He knew her, but he could not remember who she was. Everything seemed so far away. So hard to focus.

At once there was a soft light, all through his sight, surrounding his body. It slowly shrunk, settling around his left side. As it did, Terrus realised that it was hurting. But it felt separate to him, like another pony’s body. It continued to shrink to a circle, but something marred it, like wet paint dripping. 

Luna was there again, and she looked down at the light with concern. Part of Terrus wanted to tell her not to worry. Whatever the light was supposed to do, that was fine. When he tried, though, he could not do it. No words escaped his mouth. Maybe that was worrying. 







The only noise was a soft breeze, coming from the window in the tree. Twilight, it whispered. She groaned. It was too late, after a busy day, for late night mysteries. She lifted her head a fraction. 

“Go ’way,” she said, her voice just above a murmur. 

Slowly, the door creaked open. It whined as it opened, the wood shrieking against the stone floors.

Stone floors. Twilight sat up. “Please, not tonight.” She covered her eyes with her hooves, but it did not help. She could still see him. Her mind protested the impossibility but could not break the spell.

“Twilight,” came the whisper again, but now it was not the breeze. The voice was of Shining Armour, but flat. Emotionless. 

“Go away! You’re not there! You’re not here!” she said, screwing her eyes shut. Even her eyelids betrayed her. Her brother shambled into the room, halting motions barely keeping him upright. His face was tight, as if worried. Then he turned to her, and she screamed.

His face was half there. The other half exposed skull and brains and muscle, with his right eye empty and leering. Cuts and bruises and open wounds covered his body. A worm wriggled through one and ducked into another.

“Why aren’t you here, Twilight.” There was no colour to his voice. Just blank flatness. He walked towards her. Twilight tried, desperately, to do some magic, to force him away, but all that came from her horn were feeble sparks. 

He was ten metres. Five metres. 

Shining’s body loomed over her. “Tonight perhaps.” He raised a hoof to her forehead, as if to brush her hair. Twilight screamed and screamed.