An Extended Holiday

by Commander_Pensword


87 - A Blizzard of Cherry Blossoms

Extended Holiday
Ch 87: A Blizzard of Cherry Blossoms
Act 11


Year 3 Week 5 Day 2

Gakushu looked to his two brothers. “As we know, it is tradition to adopt adults to help bring strong warriors into families. I want to ask you two, can we adopt Hammer Strike into our family? It would help, and it would allow some of use to call him by family names.”

Gakushu, if we were to adopt him officially, would he not become subject to the emperor? Hammer Strike could never agree to such a thing,” Haku pointed out.

“No, not if he stays here under pretense of keeping watch to make sure our knowledge does not fall into the wrong paws. Besides, his eyes are old, like grandpa age. He would be respected, and come and go as he pleases. Besides, none can hold him down.”

“I’m afraid it’s too risky, Gakushu. Our people risk enough with these expeditions. Doing as you suggest risks exposing us too much,” kurama said

Gakushu sighed. “Very well, but I ... I still want to call him father. I feel safe around him, and he ... he is catching on to why I call him Sensei.

How can you be so sure?” Haku asked. “Besides, is that such a bad thing?

“His expression,” Gakushu answered. “It is bad in that I cannot call him anything but Sensei.”

Haku shrugged. “Then why not just do it?

“I can’t. Culture and tradition deems that improper. You know that. It’s worse than disobeying your elders.”

Hammer Strike is our elder now. He doesn’t care about stuffy traditions that keep people apart. Why should we?

“Because we will be returning home, and we will have our actions scrutinized. I do not want to risk being banned from practicing what I am learning here.”

Why should you be banned? If you wish to be a smith, be a smith. You need no sanction to practice the art you love.

Because I am not of the smithing class. I come from the gatherers, and so I have to be a gatherer, just as tradition dictates.

“The emperor still clings to the absolutism of the caste system,” Kurama agreed.

Then … then perhaps it is time for a change,” Haku said resolutely.

“Not if we play our cards right, and we get the help of the other three,” Gakushu answered. “Still, if we can prove Hammer Strike is a master smith, and he took on apprentices, it could work, but part of that is at least to ceremonially adopt him. He won’t be forced to serve the Emperor, but by adoption he can change the castes we are in.”

Let’s face it. Hammer Strike transcends the caste system. He can do practically anything. There is a reason why he is held throughout our lore as a mystery,” Haku said.

“Wait, he shows up in our lore?” Gakushu asked.

In multiple places,” Haku said.

Gakushu sat down in bafflement. “That, but… what will that mean for us when we get home?”

Haku shrugged. “We will likely be closely interviewed, and quite possibly become famous for getting concrete information on him to share in the archives.

“Famous and never get another day's work done,” Gakushu muttered darkly.

After what Hammer Strike has taught us? I think we would be strong enough to do as we wish without being bothered,” Haku said.

“When we are not having to host visitors or guests, or having to answer questions. I should know. My father grew tired of having to ask the same questions as the other archivers, but they will ask them. Realizing we will be on the other end tires me just thinking about it.” Gakushu sighed heavily.

We could simply archive it now, you know. Then we can give them the copy later and save all of us a headache,” Haku replied.

“For now,” kurama said, “let's concentrate on surviving. Perhaps there will be a new emperor when we return, and he will be more considerate, but for now we must look to the now.”

“Agreed,” Gakushu said, “which brings me to the next problem. What do we do with three more Kitsunes?” Gakushu muttered.

Haku shrugged. “We survive. We certainly have enough to share.

“For a time, yes,” Kurama agreed, “but it will take too long to extend the gardens and gather necessary resources. We can’t produce enough for everyone for more than a few weeks.”

We shouldn’t get ahead of ourselves. Let’s find out what their mission was first. Once we learn that, we can go on from there,” Haku said.

“So we wait for them to fully wake up from their ordeal,” Gakushu agreed. “Hopefully in the next few days.”

They simply require rest and warmth, Gakushu. They will be alright,” Haku said. “Speaking of which, I had best check on them to see how they are progressing.


Year 3 Week 6 Day 1

“I apologize; what did you say your name was again?” a bright yellow Kitsune with red highlights, three tails, and a white underbelly asked.

“Hammer Strike.”

Impossible,” A blue four-tailed Kitsune muttered. “Unless he is named in honor of the smith.” He smiled. “May I inquire who you are named after?”

“Please forgive Michio,” a silver-grey seven-tailed Kitsune interjected as one of his tails whapped the four-tailed fox on the head. “He still has much to learn about what is and is not possible. It is an honor, Ancient Fire.” He placed his fist in his palm and bowed low to Hammer Strike.

“l’ll be honest. I didn’t see that coming,” Hammer Strike muttered.

“After seven hundred years, you begin to see beneath the beneath,” the elderly Kitsune known as Satoru stated. “Even now I feel the warmth of the sun on your coat.”

“Well, it is the strongest aspect in that field,” Hammer Strike thought out loud. “On to the reason I called you three here. What was your primary objective coming out this far?”

“How long have you lived in this area?” Satoru asked.

“Three years in this region after rescuing the other three who are currently working on their own projects. Now, could you answer my question?”

“And has it ever been summer in that entire time? Sping? Fall?”

Hammer Strike didn’t respond as he stared at the Kitsune.

“The emperor wants to know why winter is unending in this region, why it is spreading, and, if possible, for it to be broken,” the elderly Kitsune told him. “To let it remain as it is could be disastrous to the balance.”

“Thank you,” Hammer Strike replied. “As for the cause, it is the windigos who are causing this neverending winter.”

“Those creatures the pups mentioned?” the yellow one asked.

“The very same that froze you all alive, Naoko.”

The yellow fox shuddered. “And the rest of the children's’ party is dead?”

“Yes. I was unable to arrive any sooner.”

“You saved three kits’ lives. The lives of the young are the most precious of all. We can only thank you for what you have done, not condemn you for what you could not,” Satoru said.

“As for what you can do to help the situation with the windigos, leave them be.”

“You ask us to turn our backs on this?” Michio exclaimed.

“I ask you to wait for events to play out they way they need to,” Hammer Strike responded.

“Do you posses any written information we may take back to the emperor to support your request?” satoru asked.

“I’m sorry, but I tend to keep knowledge like this unwritten.” Hammer Strike shook his head.

“Then the emperor will likely order military action,” Naoko sighed.

“Then allow me to tell you of the results of that. You will change nothing, and most likely waste resources,” Hammer Strike shrugged. “But, I have a feeling it’ll be hard to sway the decision of your leader off of the word of one.”

“Not unless you can explain how it will be stopped. Perhaps then our emperor will be satisfied.”

Hammer Strike hummed. “The best I could give you is something cryptic. I shall not say exactly what happens.”

“I am used to Cryptic lessons. It is all that gets taught to me,” Michio muttered as he folded his arms. “There is never an easy way or specific instructions like go to this spot at this time and watch the eclipse.”

His head received another thwack. This time Satoru used his paw with two fingers outstretched. “Any aid you can offer would aid us in showing this wisdom to the emperor.”

“It’s been years since I’ve had to be this cryptic,” Hammer Strike muttered to himself. “Winter shall stay for as long as strife is housed within the heart. The day the peaceful heart shines in the sky, summer will return, and the beasts shall be driven back to the land of old.”

“Well, at least the Emperor will have fun solving that riddle.” Michio muttered, his tone still surly, even as a smirk grew on his muzzle.

“If he solves it. I doubt the knowledge is there on some of the things mentioned.” Hammer Strike shrugged.

“But you promise it will end, and the balance will be preserved?” Naoko asked intently.

“For a decent amount of time.”

Satoru lifted his paws. A spark appeared, glowing in bright silvery-white light. It proceeded to grow and shift in his hands until the light faded. “It is the law of our people that all kindness be rewarded to the best of our ability. You have saved us, fed us, saved the kits, and kept them safe, but I am afraid I must ask that you continue to look after them until we may send a larger party to escort them back. In return for all you have done, and will do, should you accept, I offer you this ancient relic passed from one of the spirits of fortune who serves the goddess.” It was quite simply a cloth bag of a rather ugly green color.

“Instead of repaying me in a relic, I would like the repayment to be all of your survival-”

“Do not let its appearance fool you, Ancient Fire.” The Kitsune moved the bag aside and pulled the string to open it. He shook it gently. With a loud thump a full sized table landed on the ground before him. “Our lord Budai made this bag to carry anything and everything. One could even carry living beings inside it, should they be careful.”

“That could be useful incase my coat fails,” Hammer Strike remarked, looking to the bag.

Satoru handed it to him.

After a moment of hesitation, Hammer Strike placed the bag of holding on the table rather than testing it by placing it in his coat. “I made a pack of supplies for your journey, and before you head out I can make you a few new weapons, considering yours were somewhat damaged.”

“As it happens, I believe Naoko holds plans for the weapons he will need. I am sure you will be able to translate them for our host, won’t you, Naoko?”

I don’t think that will be necessary,” Hammer Strike commented to the trio.

All three of them started in surprise.

It doesn’t take me long to learn things.”

“While you work on that, may I ask which of the Kits helped with the spells outside the dwelling? I would like to talk with him.”

“Haku.”

“Thank you, Ancient Fire.” Satoru bowed again before rising to his feet and slowly making his way to find the kit in question.

“Instead of calling me Ancient Fire, can you three just use my name?” Hammer Strike asked.

“Of course, Hammer Strike. We live amongst the emperor's court. We are used to those deserving of respect demanding it from us, so forgive us our caution.”

“I’m very different about that. I don’t care for titles.”

“Well, that is something new,” Michio spoke. “Still, I shall do my best, Hammer Strike.”

“Good. Then you three are dismissed. I’ll get to work on the weapons.”


Year 3 Week 6 Day 5

Satoru walked the edges of the grounds with Haku as he had done for the last few days carefully analyzing the spell work. “You have talents, kit,” he noted approvingly.

“A good deal of it came from Hammer Strike. I merely sought a way to incorporate our magics into the enchantments he knew from his own lands.”

“Humility is a good trait for a magician.” Satoru laughed. “It reminds us there are forces we should not tamper with.”

“And some beyond our grasp until the goddess sees fit to bestow us with the wisdom to wield it.” Haku knelt to tend to one of the spell characters he’d had Hammer Strike forge in the marker. With a few scratches and a brief incantation, they glowed brightly again and the barrier shimmered red and blue.

“Have you desired to pursue magic further?”

“I hope to make it a part of my studies. In truth, I’m still not certain exactly what I wish to do. But I suppose my father was right in one respect at least. I have learned more in this one outing than I ever could have in the archives, even if I’d taken a thousand years to study.” He rose and dusted his fur off.

Satoru placed his hands before him, and in a flash of silver fire a small book appeared in his palms. “Perhaps this will aid you on your way,” he said, offering it to Haku.

“What is it?” Haku asked as he took the book in question. “I don’t believe I’ve seen its like in the archives.”

“My notes, my spells. I have no one to leave this with. If I did not make it back alive, my notes might be lost, but I believe if I leave them with you, perhaps you will be able to do something with them.”

“... Thank you. Are you a mystic then?”

“Sharp, too. You’ll do well with magic.”

“I do my best with what the goddess has granted me,” Haku said, bowing.

“Then you will do fine.” Satoru ruffled Haku’s head fur. “Never doubt it.”

“Satoru Sama?”

“Yes?” he asked

“Why do we even have the caste system in the first place?”

“The emperor thinks it prevents us from warring with each other.”

“There is so much talent that simply gets … wasted. It doesn’t make sense. Is there no way to change things?”

“Unfortunately, I am not a politician, kit. I cannot tell you that.”

“After all of this, living with Hammer Strike, I simply cannot see the logic in it. Why would the goddess support such a system where no one is equal, yet all are equal in her eyes?

“You must remember that order itself requires distinction,” the older Kitsune told him. “If we did not distinguish our places in the world, we would have no idea what we must do.”

“But what if we do not wish to live in that place we’ve been assigned? What if we desire a different path?”

“I’m afraid there are some questions we just can’t answer, kit.”

“With all due respect, Master Satoru, that’s not good enough.” Haku shook his head. “Gakushu has talent, but because of the caste system, he can’t choose his career, and even if he did receive permission, he would be frowned upon for choosing what is viewed as an inferior craft. It’s not right.” He shook his head. “It’s simply not right.”

“Many things aren't.” Satoru sighed tiredly. “I wish I could avail your fears, kit, but in seven hundred years I’ve only learned that eventually life will just be unfair.”

“That doesn’t mean we cannot fight to change it.” Determination filled Haku’s gaze as he looked out into the forest. “If one does nothing, then nothing will change, and that which is unfair shall remain so. That cannot be any longer.”

“That may be for your generation then.” Satoru patted Haku’s head. “Unfortunately, mine is on the way out.”

“You still have a few hundred years to go, Master Satoru. And if I receive the opportunity, it would be my honor to be your pupil when we return to Napon.”

“I look forward to seeing you again then, Haku.” Satoru smiled, bowing gently to the younger Kitsune.

Sayōnara, Satoru Sama.


“We thank you again for your kindness and your hospitality, Strike Sama,” Satoru said, bowing low to the Earth Pony. The three elder kitsunes had decided that the time to leave had come. And so with provisions for the trip and a careful plan to ensure they would make it home alive, they said their final goodbyes.

Remember to set those wards up every time you make camp. You have the instructions for removing them to use at the next site, correct?” Haku asked.

Satoru nodded and chuckled. “Yes, young one, we will be fine, you have my word. The research you have made here may prove useful to the college. Do not be surprised if you and your friends receive a summons upon your return.

“May your travels go easily,” Kurama said, bowing to Michio. “Gakushu is an excellent smith. I know his weapons will serve you well.”

It is an unusual thing. We have forged our own blades for so long. But this is an unusual time, and a good warrior knows how to adapt. It has been a pleasure knowing you, Kurama, and I am sorry for your loss. Tadashi was a close friend.

Gakushu shuffled. “Unusual though it may be, we cannot send you out there without protection against those beasts. Also, please note that the tsubas have been enchanted with a spell that should protect you from the cold as a last line of defense. Use their power sparingly.”

We shall heed your counsel. The emperor will doubtless send a battalion at least. We shall make sure to give them your notes on the creatures and the counter spells for their protection. Expect the party within the year. Two at most.

“We’ll see about that,” Hammer Strike commented. “Estimates tend to be wrong unless you have the knowledge of how things will go.”

We need simply have faith. I shall keep the data you have gathered and transfer it into the archives,” Minako said. “What you three have discovered will make you quite famous. I hope you will be ready for that when you return.” He smirked ever so slightly as he turned to join his companions. Then, with their last goodbyes given, the trio passed through the perimeter and out into the wailing cold of the windigos’ storm.


Year 3 Week 43 Day 2

“Hammer Strike, do you think it would be possible to build a fishing boat to fish on the lake? The ice is pretty well thawed out by now,” Gakushu said as he twirled a charcoal stick in the air with his paw while he looked down at some of the drawings he had been working on. He paused as his ears twitched. “I hear something coming up to the front door.”

“Well, from the sounds of things, whoever it is isn’t immediately hostile,” Hammer Strike replied quietly. After a moment, there was a knock on the door. “Not immediately hostile, and surprisingly civil.”

Kurama held his kanabo at the ready. The long oak club was studded with blunted ebony spikes, giving it a fearsome appearance.

Hammer Strike sighed as he moved his way to the door, ensuring that his hoofsteps were heard so they wouldn’t continue knocking. Upon opening the door, he was greeted by an unusual sight. From the looks of the two in front of him, he could swear it was a young Star Swirl and Clover. “Yes?”

The two looked dumbstruck for a moment. Finally Star Swirl cleared his throat. “Please forgive us, sir, but we were led to believe there was no one left alive in this area.”

“That would be because of the heavy concentration of windigos in the region,” Hammer Strike replied. “Which don’t like the orbs of dense flame surrounding my home.”

“How can you talk about windigos so nonchalantly?” Clover finally asked loudly. Hammer Strike realized as he got a good look at her that she really did resemble a blue Twilight Sparkle in her younger years.

“Because I’ve killed enough of them that they don’t bother me,” Hammer Strike shrugged. “Then again, most things don’t bother me.”

All he got in response was two stunned faces from the Ponies.

“They don’t like fire. It’s as simple as that.”

“You are an Earth Pony… yes?” Star Swirl managed to ask. Confusion was clearly written on his face alongside a certain scientific curiosity.

“Yes,” Hammer Strike answered. A slowly growing grin began to form.

“So how exactly did you manage to direct the fire at the windigos?”

In his usual fashion, Hammer Strike’s hooves burst into blue fire. “Very carefully. Tell you what, give me a moment to clear something, and you can come in.”

“Of course.” Star Swirl nodded.

Hammer Strike closed the door and turned to the trio currently sitting off to the side. “Rooms. Remain hidden,” he said softly, giving a faint gesture for them to move.

The three Kitsunes nodded without a word, and made for their rooms as silently as possible.

After he was sure they were in their rooms, Hammer Strike returned and opened the door for the two to enter. “Come inside. I’m sure you’d like to get into a warm environment.”

The two followed him in, carefully eyeing their surroundings as they did.

“Please, sit.” Hammer Strike gestured to the couch.

“This is a large building for just one Pony,” Star Swirl noted.

“I’m bored almost all of the time, so I keep expanding the house.”

“That makes sense, I suppose.” He made his way to one of the chairs by the fire. “So then, I am Star Swirl, royal wizard to his majesty, King Bullion, and this is my apprentice, Clover the Clever.”

“Hammer Strike,” he said. “Now what brings you two out into this region?”

“A bit of an expedition by our… high strung Princess Platinum,” Star Swirl explained. “Clover and I were doing some scouting, and we happened to notice your house seems unaffected by this unending winter.”

“As stated, orbs of condensed flame.”

“Yes, the flames. I must admit I’ve never seen anyone of your tribe able to perform such an act. Is it something you’ve always been able to do?” Star Swirl asked.

“Oh no, none of them can do it. This talent is only possessed by myself,” Hammer Strike clarified.

“Have you any knowledge as to how?”

“Yes. In fact, I have plenty of information on how I am able to use it.”

“Would you mind explaining?”

“No, I won’t. The risk is more than a simple backfire like normal spells.”

Clover opened her mouth, as if to say something, her face contorted with outrage before her teacher cut her off. “Thats fair,” Star Swirl nodded calmly.

“Clover, please, say what you were going to say.” Hammer Strike looked to her.

“That's not fair! Magic like this could save lives! Being able to melt the snow could save crops and and keep Ponies warm!” Clover practically shouted.

“Magic like this takes countless years to learn. And should you try to recreate it and fail, you will not only kill yourself, but more lives than what you would have saved,” Hammer Strike said firmly. “I’ve studied this art for more than forty years, and I still can make a fatal mistake at any moment.”

Clover said nothing while Star Swirl quirked an eyebrow before nodding. “So I’m going to hazard a guess you are not from Chancellor Puddinghead’s expedition?”

“I am by myself. Never met them or any of their kingdom.”

“And I take it you would prefer not to become known to others?”

“I honestly don’t care. Tell them about me if you want, but be warned. I do not care about titles, nor do I care about nobility. Expect no special treatment from me.”

“Well if I may be blunt, you are possibly the scariest Pony I have ever met,” Star Swirl told him flatly. “And I would rather not make an enemy of you.”

Hammer Strike gave a dark chuckle. “Good.”

“Perhaps we will meet in the future,” Star Swirl said. “For now I think it best we return to our group before they send scouts.”

“Definitely for the best.”

“Farewell, Hammer Strike. I hope our paths will cross again.” With that the elderly wizard and his still-confused-apprentice left.

“Oh they will, Star Swirl. They will.”

Two hours later, Gakushu slunk into the room on all fours as he sniffed the air looking ready to bolt. “Who … who was here?”

“Two Unicorns investigating the area due to the lack of snow. You won’t have to worry about them. I gave them enough to keep them away for awhile.”

Gakushu stood up and nodded his head. “I’ll go tell the others that it’s safe to come out.”

“Well that’s a relief. I wonder why Unicorns would be out this far?” Kurama asked, confused after the three had reemerged from their rooms.

“It does seem a bit far afield for their castle, doesn’t it?” Haku agreed.

“They are trying to figure out what to do to clear the endless winter,” Hammer Strike replied.

“And what did you tell them?” Haku asked.

“I told them basic information on why there is no snow here, and to keep their leaders from bothering us, or in the case I explained to them, me.”

“So we are safe for the time being?” Gakushu asked.

“Should be, but keep an eye out,” Hammer Strike instructed.


Year 3 Week 59  Day 7

Gakushu looked at the others as they sat around the table. “So what are we doing for the upcoming year? I want to create a full set of samurai armor.”

“I might expand the house a bit more, work on a training room possibly,” Hammer Strike shrugged.

“Kurama would be most grateful,” Haku said as he pored over the spellbook Satoru had given to him.

Gakushu laughed as he tossed a small metal ball at Kurama, who was busily reading a small book about sword fighting one of the other Kitsunes had left him.

Karuma caught it casually. “Armor would be nice.” He nodded, not looking up from his book.

“Either Gakushu or myself will look into that,” Hammer Strike replied.

“How about both? He really has gotten very good. Perhaps a collaboration would help press him towards his next stage,” Haku said.

“I like that idea. You can see how I am coming along and show me better techniques.”

“Alright,” Hammer Strike replied.

Gakushu grinned happily as his tails swished back and forth. “Great!” He paused as he looked at a timepiece. “Oh, we have just a few minutes left before we start our fourth year!”

“A time to reflect on time passed and loved ones departed.” Haku casually flicked a finger as a cup of tea levitated on a shimmering red cloud to his hand. He blew on it gently and sipped deeply. “And the future that lies ahead.”

“A time to give thanks for what we have received.” Kurama nodded as he took his own cup and sipped it. “And look forward to what is yet to come”

“A future we can and will build with our own paws,” Gakushu added.

Haku raised his cup. “To the new year.”

Kurama nodded as he lifted his cup to Haku’s.

Gakushu raised his cup, looking to Kurama. “To the new year.” He smirked as he flicked his left ear. “Fifteen seconds.”

Hammer Strike smiled softly. “To what the new year brings.”

“May the goddess bless it,” Gakushu replied as the clock Hammer Strike had carved and forged chimed midnight.

The four friends struck their cups together and smiled as they brought them to their lips. Hammer Strike’s cup shook ever so slightly as he brought it closer. He stared at it momentarily, confused. The shaking grew more intense, the cup fell, spilling its contents all over the table. “Okay, that’s–” Hammer Strike was cut off as his speech slurred, his eyes rolled into the back of his head, and much to the dismay of the three kits, he collapsed onto the floor with a final crash that left a significant dent in the wooden floorboards.


Year 4 Week 1 Day 1

Kurama and Haku groaned with effort as they rolled Hammer Strikes body onto one of the beds. “Is he breathing?” Kurama asked as he panted.

Haku held a steady hand over Hammer Strike’s muzzle. “Yes, but it’s very shallow. Whatever this is, it’s happened very suddenly. And considering none of us are following suit, I would say it’s a fairly safe bet to guess the food and environment aren’t responsible.”

“Then what happened? Did he get cursed? Did we do something to anger the goddess?” Gakushu asked as he sat down on the floor to recover from their exertions.

“He’s a Pony. You know as well as I do that Faust would have protected him,” Kurama said.

“Then what happened?” Gakushu’s eyes suddenly widened and he began to tremble. “We need to check on the orbs. What if his going down will cause them to snuff out? We’ll be at the mercy of the windigos.”

Haku shook his head. “Hammer Strike enchanted them to be self sustaining. They will not fail. Still, whatever this is, it has left him in a comatose state. I may be able to perform a spell to analyze his chakras, but I am dubious as to whether it will work. It requires a certain level of mastery to accomplish properly.”

“And we are all apprentices.” Gakushu shook his head. “Well this is a nice way to start the new year. How long do you think he will be like this? Can we survive without Strike Sensei?”

“He’s taught us just about everything he knows about surviving and tending the land. We will be able to survive. And we are not entirely as defenseless as we used to be. Those windigos will have a great deal of difficulty killing us this time around,” Haku replied.

“Still, we’ll have to approach this carefully,” Kurama said. “You know herbs, right, Haku?”

“I made a fairly in depth study back at the archives, yes.”

“Is there anything I could retrieve that would help him?”

Haku shook his head. “Not without a proper diagnosis, no.”

“Then what do we do?” Gakushu asked as he pounded the bed post with a balled up paw.

“We wait. We watch. And if he does not improve, we will discuss a proper course of action,” Haku said simply. “For now, all his symptoms seem to suggest a severe case of exhaustion.”


Year 4 Week 1 Day 5

Haku sat patiently taking notes on the paper they’d made from materials in their greenhouse. In the last few days, Hammer Strike had returned to consciousness a total of approximately ten times, lasting just long enough to get some food and water down his throat before he relapsed into unconsciousness. The good news was that it appeared Hammer Strike was not in any immediate danger. The bad news was they still didn’t quite know what was wrong. Hammer Strike always passed out before they had the chance to ask.

Haku sighed as he laid his makeshift brush and paper aside and ran a paw down Hammer Strike’s mane. He held the paw over the Pony’s heart to feel breathing and detect heartbeat. As it had been the last few days, so it was now. Hammer Strike’s body temperature felt cooler than normal. There was no danger of hypothermia, but the distinct lessening of temperature was a great concern in and of its own right. The sense of his vast power that had first saved them in the clearing so long ago had dwindled to a pale remnant like the last embers of a dying fire.

Haku shook his head. “Hammer Strike, how are we supposed to be able to help you with this of all things?” He sighed wearily, rubbing his baggy, bloodshot eyes. The spellbook he had so happily accepted before lay upended and opened like a folio of papers. A great pile of scribbles, scrawls, and crumpled paper had formed around it, scattered in various places across the desk. No wisdom had been forthcoming from the volume, and any secret places Hammer Strike may have created for himself remained undiscovered, despite their best efforts.

“Rest now, Haku. I’ll keep the vigil tonight,” Kurama said, walking in with a cup of tea.

Haku let out another heavy sigh. “It’s just so frustrating, Kurama. All this knowledge available, and none of it can help him.”

“You once told me that to deny myself rest would only lead me into trouble. This wisdom is true for a mage as well as a warrior. Sleep. Let your brain meditate on today’s events, and perhaps the goddess will aid you in your dreams, or the moon maiden will offer you some glimpse of wisdom you have overlooked,” he said, setting the glass before the bedraggled Kitsune. “He will not die tonight, Haku.”

“... And I don’t plan on dying anytime soon,” Hammer Strike commented quietly.

“Hammer Strike Sama!” Haku exclaimed, accidentally lapsing into the formal mode of address. The pair were quickly at the Earth Pony’s side.

“How long have I been out?”

“Since the last time you were conscious, or in total?” Haku asked.

“Both.”

“Almost five full days total. About ten hours since last time,” kurama said.

“Delightful,” Hammer Strike said dryly as he took a few breaths. “I can’t feel my field, nor magic…”

Kurama rushed from the room and returned with a glass of water, hastily offering it to Hammer Strike.

Hammer Strike began to sit up, accepting the water. “Thank you, Kurama.”

“We have been trying to figure out just what happened, but so far we still don’t know. Still, this is a good sign. You’re far more alert than you have been the last few days, and you can hold a proper conversation. That would imply some form of recovery,” Haku said.

“Do you remember what I told you about my power, Haku? About how it affects me?”

Haku nodded. “I have been trying to find a way to rekindle it.”

“You can’t. The energy needed is… too much.” Hammer Strike seemed to drift off for a moment before his eyes snapped back open. “I think I know what it is, but I’ve only encountered it while physically hurt to the point of being bedridden.”

“Are you well enough to explain, or do you need more rest? If the main danger is past, I believe we all can breathe a sigh of relief.”

“I should be fine,” Hammer Strike assured. “My power is made from certain forces. Think of them like fire and earth, my strength and my control of fire. Something infected it, and I began to see visions of the future, of the past, time itself. It’s harmful to have the field overtaken by something different than it should be. Unfortunately, the only way to clear it is to empty it.”

“So your power essentially snuffed itself in order to purge itself?”

“Yes. But I need it to live, so when it ran dry...”

“Your body shut down as much as it could to keep you alive on the energy you had left?” Kurama asked

“Essentially.”

“Did you know this was going to happen?” Haku asked.

“Not this drastically, nor this soon.”

“They why didn’t you tell us about it? It would have saved us a great deal of worry,” Haku said somewhat irritably.

“There were no signs, and I’ve never felt it on it’s own. If I told you when it occurred to me, could you have remembered it for two and a half years?”

“Yes,” Haku said tiredly as he struggled in vain to hold back a yawn.

“You’d be surprised at how many cannot. Go get your rest, both of you.”

“Hammer Strike …”

“Haku, I’m not going to die anytime soon. Go get some rest.”

Kurama put a paw on Haku’s shoulder. “Sleep, Haku.”

“Kurama, I–” He looked at that stern gaze and knew he was in no condition to succeed, even if he did have the winning side of the argument, which he didn’t. He sighed and dropped his head, then began to rise with Kurama’s support. “Alright. But I will be back first thing once I wake,” he insisted.

“I’ll be here.” Kurama nodded as Haku slowly shuffled his way out.


Year 4 Week 2 Day 1

Hammer Strike sighed to himself as he laid in bed. He didn’t have the energy to move around and do anything, leaving him very, very, bored. He heard Kurama, Haku, and Gakushu wandering the house doing their own things.

“Bored to death yet?” an all-too-familiar voice spoke up.

“Wow, I thought terrible puns were above your pay grade,” Hammer Strike groaned. “What do you want, Death?”

 “Well you can see me, so this shouldn’t take too much longer,” Death noted. “That's usually the last step.”

Hammer Strike chuckled. “That’s funny. I’m sorry, Death, but I know the outcome of this, and I’m afraid your list doesn’t have my marked death here.”

“Then why am I here?” Death asked.

“Because either you think I’m dying, or you’re incredibly bored.”

“Maybe. To be honest, I’m still getting used to the job.”

“You mentioned something about replacing the old Death, so how recent was the change?”

“A hundred years or so.”

Hammer Strike hummed. “Pretty recent, I guess. I’m sorry to say, but you won’t be claiming my soul for a long time. Don’t worry though, I’ll tell you when I’m actually dying.”

“...I know you're not lying, or at least you don’t think you are, but somehow I feel I’m going to regret this moment someday.”

“You will, don’t worry.”

“So then we’ve met before?”

“Yeah, though our meetings aren’t on the best of cases, which is a shame really.”

“No mortal has said that line to me before.” Death chuckled.

“And you’ll learn that I’m not like any of them.” Hammer Strike reached over and patted Death on the shoulder.

“You just touched me,” Death noted in alarm.

“Yep.”

“And you're still alive.”

“Yep.”

“Are you a god or something?” Death asked as a long scroll popped up in front of him.

“Nope,”Hammer Strike replied. “Wouldn’t want to ever be one either. Too much pesky business.”

“Oh, Dad is going to love this.” Death face hoofed.

“What? The fact that you’re interacting with a mortal who doesn’t care, or the conversation?”

“Yes,” Death answered.

“This is why we mostly get along.”


Year 4 Week 43 Day 2

Hammer Strike rolled his neck as he placed another log onto a sled he had made in order to move wood around easier. “Alright, ten logs should be fine for a month of firewood.”

A stiff breeze suddenly kicked up at Hammer Strike’s side. There was a loud thump and a blur buffeted into a nearby bush.

“Huh, windy,” Hammer Strike shrugged to himself as he began to strap the harness on. Once it was secure he began his way back home, knowing for a fact that someone was following him.

Meanwhile the bush rustled as a pegasus stallion stood up. He had light blue fur with a mane that was streaked orange yellow and black. He wore Pegasus armor and a large helmet with a fan that indicated him as a commander.

“Whoever this spy is, he seems to be very strong, Pansy,” Commander Hurricane said.

From several feet away behind a tree, a light brown Pegasus with a powder-blue mane peeked out. “Perhaps he’s not a spy? Maybe he just lives here, sir,” Pansy squeaked out.

“Nonsense, Pansy. It’s obvious the Earth Ponies knew we’d be coming this way, and so Chancellor Puddinghead sent this Earth Pony out here to appear to be living here. A clever strategy, but he doesn’t know that we know about it, and that gives us the advantage.”

“But what if he knew that we’d find out about it, and planned around it, sir?”

“Never fear, Pansy. For we shall simply plan around the plan he has made to plan around us,” Hurricane said as if it was so simple.

“But, sir, he seemed to not even realize you hit him, and you were going pretty fast. Maybe we should go back to the camp and get reinforcements?”

“And give him time to set a trap? No. We shall handle this ourselves.” Hurricane stomped his hoof authoritatively. “Now then, come along, private.” Hurricane took to the air without another word.

“Join the army they said. It’s an honor they said,” Pansy muttered, joining Hurricane in the air.

Hammer Strike groaned as he entered their home. “Haku, Kurama, get into the basement forge with Gakushu, and stay down there. Guests are bound to be over in a minute.” Neither Kitsune responded as they dropped what they were doing and did as they were told.

Hammer Strike stood by the door, listening to the quiet sounds of wind outside, soon interrupted by wings, and then the creaking of wood on the patio. Before they could knock on the door, however, he pulled it open, revealing the two Pegasi.

The larger of the two charged him instantly, only to be sent flying as Hammer Strike brushed him away with a hoof.

“Um...excuse me, Mister Spy, but we’d like to invade your cottage for a forward operating base. You know…. if that's okay with you,” the remaining pegasus said, wilting with every word.

“No.”

“...Okay.” The pegasus in question turned and started to walk away.

The cold winter winds howled as whips of ice lashed at the Pony’s flanks. Thick, heavy flakes fringed the shy Pegasus’ armor in ice as the commander awaited at the edge. He put up a bold front and laid a supportive wing on the smaller one’s shoulder. The pair stepped out beyond the barrier and were lost to the storm for a few moments before they walked back inside again. They blinked disbelievingly at their surroundings, then shivered. The larger, stronger stallion held to his subordinate, supplying what warmth he could manage as they made their way back to the door with chattering teeth.

“Um, S-s-sir, perhaps we could try being a teensie bit nicer? After all, we don’t know if he’s really a spy, and we live up in the clouds anyways, so how could he spy on us when we live all the way up there?”

“Don’t be fooled, Pansy,” Commander Hurricane growled. “It’s all a ruse.”

“Then how come they’re all nice and cosy in a warm house while we’re out here in the cold? With all due respect, sir, I think we’re the invaders here.” Pansy shuddered and withdrew even further. Icicles had begun to form on her wings. “S-s-spies or not, if we don’t ask for their help, we’re going to die,” she whispered, trailing off to a barely perceptible whimper.

“I suppose a temporary alliance is necessary,” Hurricane sighed in defeat. Slowly the pair approached the heavily reinforced door.

“You might want to take off your helmet, sir. It’s good manners, and it might show we just want to talk instead of, you know, trying to do a hostile takeover?”

“Very well, Pansy.” Hurricane rolled his eyes as he removed his helmet. “You may knock.”

Pansy reached up a timid hoof, only for the door to open once again before she even had the chance to finish the knock.

“E-e-excuse me, um … sir, but … my c-c-commanding officer would l-l-like to speak with you,” Pansy chattered.

Hammer Strike stared blankly at the two of them before sighing. “Alright, let’s hear it, what do you want to talk about?”

“It is your lucky day, civilian. You are privileged with the opportunity to offer lodgings to Commander Hurricane himself for the duration of this storm.”

After a moment Hammer Strike slowly closed the door. “Goodbye.”

“W-wait!” Pansy shoved a hoof into the door frame. “Please, sir. We’re cold and hungry, and the storm has separated us from our camp. We can’t even fly in this weather. Our feathers freeze before we can get above the clouds. If you could find the kindness in your heart to put up with us for a little while, we really would appreciate it. Please?” she asked, staring at him with her large, cute eyes.

“You I can stand. It’s your commanding officer who needs to learn one important thing about me. I don’t care about titles. If you want my respect, earn it.” Hammer Strike frowned. “So, you’re free to enter, but I want to hear something different from him.”

“Thank you.” Pansy nodded her head, then looked pointedly at her commander and coughed ever so lightly, her eyes motioning towards the stallion.

Hurricane sighed and rolled his eyes “May we please have shelter from the storm?” he groaned.

Hammer Strike took one step over, giving them space to enter the house.

Pansy slowly plodded her way in and immediately made for the fireplace, plopping down on the rug as she allowed the warmth of the flames to bathe her wings and help them to defrost. For some reason, she looked especially cute and vulnerable here as the light of the flames flickered in her eyes.

Hurricane eyed the home as he entered slowly hoof after hoof. “So where are your allies?” Hurricane asked suspiciously.

“Non-existent,” Hammer Strike replied as he closed the door. “It’s just been me here for nearly five years now.”

“A likely story,” Hurricane said as he moved near Pansy.

“I figured the commander would have an impressive set of armor, well protected and whatnot. So why don’t you?”

“This is the best armor the Pegasi blacksmiths have ever made,” Hurricane said, insulted.

“As a smith myself, I find that very depressing.”

“How dare you insult my armor!”

“You’re wide open!”

“My barrel and chest are covered, and my helmet covers my head. My armor does not hinder my wings or my tail, so how am I open?”

“The joints, your rear, legs, and the back of your neck are wide open. One well placed cut or arrow, and you’re going to deal with issues.”

“One day, when we have conquered this land, legions of Pegasi shall wear this armor in shining gold plates to honor me!”

“Come here for a moment.”

“And why would I do that?”

“Do you want improvements, or do you want me to continue?”

Hurricane rolled his eyes. “Very well. We are stuck during this storm. I suppose no harm could come from humoring you,” he said, stepping to stand before the Pony smith.

Hammer Strike led him to an open room with random pieces of training equipment and dummies.

“You seem to have kept yourself busy,” Hurricane noted, looking around.

“I deal with an issue that keeps me from sleeping for weeks on end,” Hammer replied. “I want to show you a few things, and perhaps you’ll make adjustments to them when you return. But it’s your choice on whether you listen or not,” he finished, grabbing one of the training swords.

“Such as?” Hurricane asked warily.

“The biggest weak points you have.”

“This should be interesting,” Hurricane chuckled. “Alright then, show me.” He lowered himself near the ground and engaged his positively archaic wingblades.

It was over far too quickly. The next few seconds were filled with movement as Hammer Strike struck hurricane in every major weak point of his armor while nimbly dodging the Pegasus’s wing strikes. Hurricane thumped to the ground less than two minutes after they’d started.

“And that is the match.”

“But … how?” Hurricane said weakly.

“I told you. While you think you’re protected, you leave yourself wide open, and the armor doesn’t help.”

Hurricane couldn’t find the words to respond, so he stared weakly in shock instead.

“I am giving you this knowledge to better yourself. You can either accept it or forget it,” Hammer Strike said, placing the training blade aside.

“Why would an Earth Pony help a Pegasus?”

“Because I don’t care if you have wings or a horn. I do not care about titles of nobility or any of those things. I see you as an equal, but only if you can show that in return.”

Hurricane just stared, awed and humbled for the first time in a long time.

“Now come on. This room isn’t properly ventilated just yet. It’s only going to stay cool. It won’t warm up.”

With a groan Hurricane managed to move to his hooves and follow.

Meanwhile, back at Hammer Strike’s mine the large stone tunnels stood empty as they had for over a week, and would continue to do until the storm broke. All was silent except for a very faint, gentle ping of steel against stone. It came from behind the floor at the southern wall of the mine. The sound continued to grow in pitch and volume as the stone shook slightly. Loose dust began to fall away, first in grains, then in handfuls, then in torrents. Small pebbles began to jump with each vibration. Then with a crack and a shower of stone fragments, something smooth and pointed gleamed in the low light. The steel tip of a pickaxe had broken into the mine from below.


Year 5 Week 32 Day 3

Hammer Strike frowned as he looked over his tools. For almost a year now one of his tools had been vanishing every other week. Gakushu had no idea where they went. Kurama and Haku hadn’t even entered the mines in over a year, so they didn’t know either. “I swear that’s the tenth pickaxe this year,” he muttered to himself.

This wasn't the only issue that Hammer Strike had noticed in the last few weeks. He had made a point of leaving certain ore veins open in case he needed them later, and so far many of them had vanished. At first it was the less useful metals like gold, but now several veins of iron and other stronger ores had seemingly vanished. Even the coal seemed to be wandering off. Also, somehow the stones seemed to be rearranging themselves. At first Hammer Strike had figured it was just him, but after a few visits he began faintly marking certain stones, and several times he had found the marked stones in completely new sections of the mine. It was clear someone had found his mine.

“Uh, Senesi, we’re going to use our secret floor. One of Haku’s perimeter markers went off. You have visitors heading your way. Please be safe, Sensei,” Gakushu said with a nervous bow. Haku and the others soon followed suit.

“Wonderful. I wonder if this is going to be a repeat visit. Or am I going to meet the Earth Ponies?” Hammer Strike sighed heavily.

“I do not know, but bye.” He yipped as he dashed for the hidden panel into their escape tunnel.

Hammer Strike sighed as he began to move towards home, muttering to himself about too many problems. Upon reaching the house he opened the door and paused before turning around and glancing out.

A female Earth Pony with a brown coat and a broccoli-green mane and tail stood there on the path. Unlike Pinkie Pie, this one was zipping around without the bunny hopping, though she looked around with about the same speed as the famous party Pony from the future. “Oh, hello. I have to say, this is amazing, Smart Cookie. I mean this was all snow and cold and ice, and yet, here we have a warm oasis. I can sense so much magic, not just Earth Pony, but how could this be? Somepony’s been moving rocks all over the place, but I don’t feel your kind of magic here.” Her eyes widened. “I smell a smithy! Ooh, ooh, ooh, I love smithies!” She clopped her hooves together excitedly. “Well come on, Smart Cookie, maybe they can help barter for some warm weather gear and stock us up on food. Oh I hope they have sweets. I haven’t had any sweets in ages!”

Smart Cookie, a chestnut stallion with a sparkling blonde mane and tail sighed heavily. “Yes, Chancellor Puddinghead,” he said. “And maybe we can see about getting a replacement map while we’re at it?” he said, lifting the tattered remains of parchment that had once been their guiding instrument. A head-shaped hole had been made right through the middle, making it impossible to navigate.

“But why? That map would never work. To find warmth we would have gone off the edge of it anyway. What then? We can’t just draw onto the edge of the map. That would take up valuable supplies,” Puddinghead responded. She quickly donned a rather outrageous hat and grinned widely as the door to the mysterious cabin opened to reveal a tall, solidly built Earth Pony covered in scars. He’d clearly seen combat, and the tired look behind his eyes was only added to by the thick beard he sported.

“Ooh, an Earth pony. You must be the owner of this land. So, how’s the farm? And… do you smith? You look like you smith, and you sure do smell like a smith.” A sharp tail yank from behind soon brought her back into focus. “Oh, right, most Ponies outside of my tribe don’t like me licking their fur, but I bet you taste like a smith, too. But yeah, we need room for five nights so I can raid your pantry and cook up a storm for the next few weeks on the trail, and then I’d like to commission some better armor against the cold, and maybe buy a few blankets as well. Oh, and maybe some fur to line my hat and keep my head warm. Oh yeah, I’m Chancellor Puddinghead, leader of all Earth Ponies. I sure hope you haven’t met those meanies Hurricane or Platinum. Those bullies keep taking all our food. If you’re not helpful I might have to just claim this land for my tribe and not move on.”

Hammer Strike stared blankly at the Pony in front of him before sighing. “To respond to all of that, first my farm is fine. Second, I am a smith. Yes, I would prefer you don’t lick my fur.  I might be able to arrange the housing. I don’t know about you raiding my supplies. I don’t have a lot of cooking utensils. I could make you the armor to better serve against the cold. Blankets take time to make, and I would need to make more. The fur to line your hat would take some time. And lastly, nice to meet you, Puddinghead. I don’t care if you’re the leader of all the Earth Ponies because I’ve never met you or interacted with anyone associated with you until now. I have met Hurricane. And finally, I wouldn’t let you claim my land. Being passive aggressive won’t help you here.”

Smart Cookie groaned and rolled his eyes in a longsuffering manner as he laid a hoof on his nose and shook his head. “Look, do you think you could put up with us for a few days, and maybe help me get a new map? Our last one had some ... issues.”

“If you don’t bother me while I work, and don’t act passive aggressive with me, then perhaps I can help, Hammer Strike replied. “Thankfully I had the hidden room stocked with supplies to last two weeks,” he thought to himself.

“Well, maybe some help on making a good ladle would be nice,” Puddinghead spoke up.


Year 5 Week 33 Day 1

“I don’t know how to feel about that nonsense,” Hammer Strike muttered as he gave an all clear knock on the floor, letting the three know they were free to come up again.

“Is anything else missing from the forge that hasn’t been given to our guests?” Gakushu asked as he pulled himself up from the secret hole in the floor.

“Thankfully I just gave them spare stuff.”

“So, shall we look at the forge and hunt down what is happening to our gear?” He paused before adding on. “If that is what you wish, Sensei,” he said with a short bow.

“I tried already. The tunnels have changed. They’re unfamiliar to me now. Markers are gone, and now it’s just a spiral of a mess. I’m glad my personal project was kept in here.”

“So what do we do, start a middle cave? Dig down?” Gakushu asked. “Something is happening and nothing I seem…” He paused. “Maybe… I have a trick up one of my tails that might help us. I’ll need two weeks to get it set up, but it should do the trick. We should start by removing more of the stone to create that guest house you wanted to work on, build up a foundation or something.”

“Go for it. I need to continue work on my project. I want to finish it before I forget anything,” Hammer Strike said as he made his way towards the basement forge.

“Very well, Sensei. I shall start work, but maybe I could have a small forge on the grounds outside the caves as well? That is, if you feel I am ready to run my own small forge.”

“I don’t mind you using the forge, but if you want to try your paws at making a forge of your own, I can show you some tricks,” Hammer Strike said, fishing out a small box from a chest.

“I look forward to that,” Gakushu answered happily, and with great vigor.

“Should we post a watch?” Kurama asked.

“Whoever it is, they aren’t moving outside the cave, so I say we just move everything out, take what’s left of the stockpile, and bring it home.” Hammer shrugged as he pulled a ring out of the box and began to move towards the worktable.

“I feel sad we have to abandon the caves.”

“We can still use them. We just can’t store anything in them.”

“Would you like for me to use a teleportation spell? It would make the transfer much simpler and faster than simply carrying the supplies,” Haku suggested.

“If you want. If it comes down to it though, I can just carry it overnight when you all go to sleep.”

“I believe we would rather be of assistance, rather than simply letting you do all the work, Hammer Strike,” Haku said.

“We’ll see which happens first,” Hammer Strike replied as he moved a few gems onto the table and began sorting through them. He would hold each one on top of the ring for a moment before changing to another of its type.

“I’ve never known you to be one for adornment, Hammer Strike,” Kurama said, lifting an eyebrow.

“It’s not for me. I’ve been keeping myself busy, and someone comes to mind every now and then, along with a question I didn’t get to ask before my unexpected departure. So I’ve been remaking this thing.”

“And what is it?” Haku asked.

“An engagement ring,” Hammer Strike replied, looking at the blank expression of the three. “That… isn’t a thing in Napon, I take it?”

“Back home, Gakushu and myself would be meeting our brides in a few years. Their dowries have already been paid. I’ve never heard of someone requesting a ring before,” Kurama said.

“It’s not a request, but… think of it as a way to ... I have no idea how to explain this,” Hammer Strike muttered the last part. “It’s a fancy way of asking her to marry me, with something to show for it, I guess?”

“Is this custom amongst Ponies?” Kurama asked Haku.

“Yes, from what I have seen in my studies, it is customary to exchange some form of token to represent the bond that is being proposed, though it does not always have to be a ring. That is generally reserved among the Unicorns as the standard tradition, since their horns are perfect for wearing rings, and they seem to be absolutely fascinated with wealth as a whole.”

“So it is a symbol of your affection, a gift? What a strange way to show marriage. Is not scent good enough?” Gakushu asked.

“Ponies have different strengths and weaknesses in their senses,” Hammer Strike replied.

“That, and the lust for jewels among the Platinum line is legendary. They will do practically anything for the sake of getting riches,” Haku said.

“One day I’ll be back with her, but until then I am here. I am out and about, working in this large, strange world to help with balance and other nonsense for as long as I live...”

“May our poets one day record your wedding and the love that burns in your heart,” Gakushu muttered with a frown. Emotions swirled in a tightly controlled vortex after hearing the dedication Hammer Strike had for this one mare. Whoever she was, she must be lucky indeed.


Year 5 Week 53 Day 3

Kurama, Haku, and Gakushu stood before Hammer Strike outside the cabin where they had spent nearly six years with him. They had spotted smoke on the horizon a week ago, and then the previous day a messenger had come informing them a small contingent of warriors and powerful fire mages had been sent, and where currently camped out not far away. The force would give them until noon the following day to take care of any business they needed.

Kurama checked the straps on his armor another time. The ebony shingled plates fit his body snugly. Hammer Strike had personally worked on the undermail, making it both strong and light, and there was no reason to doubt that the armor would protect him for many years to come with proper care. “You helped me to find my center,” he told Hammer Strike as he did his best to hold an emotionless face. He held the black crested helmet at his side, the snarling dragon-faced mask hanging loosely as it waited to adorn his face. “I will never be able to repay what you have done for me.” He did his best to hold back tears as he bowed low to Hammer Strike.

“Kurama, the best way to repay me is to live your life to the fullest,” Hammer Strike replied softly. “Live honorably.”

Haku stepped forward in his finest robe and bowed out of respect. “You have helped me progress so much as a spell caster, but more importantly as a person. I thank you for your mercy, and I hope that one day during your many adventures you will come to visit us at Napon. If the goddess grants me her grace, I intend to overthrow the caste system so that we need no longer suffer being forced to be that which we are not.”

“I know you will one day, Haku. As for me visiting Napon, I’m sure I’ll be around eventually, but I don’t know how long it will be before then. You know what my history is like.”

Gakushu stood garbed in a set of light armor he had crafted with a small handcart that held examples of not just his own tools, but of Hammer Strike’s to prove his own worth as a smith, and that of his teacher. He gave the Earth Pony a small bow. “Thank you for the great lessons, and the teachings. It is my hope to incorporate the skills and tricks you have taught me back home to bring a new look to some of our blades. And when you do visit, I shall have a new Katana made for you to wield. It will be my finest work.” He frowned, but only a moment before he spoke his mind, as his sensei had taught him. “May I name a kit after you after I marry and meet my wife in two years?”

Hammer Strike chuckled. “If you want. And I can’t wait to see how far you progress in the years before I arrive.”

“You can count on that,” Gakushu answered with a grin.

In unison the three kitsune bowed low before Hammer Strike, their left paws held flat facing there right. “Sayōnara, shisho!” they pronounced in timed unison.

“Until next time, young ones. May your future lead ever on to glory,” Hammer Strike told them.

The three Kitsunes rose and hesitantly turned their backs as they headed in the direction of the camp. Every now and then one would look back, their faces reflecting fear and anxiety for their futures, but still they moved forward until they vanished from sight.

Hammer Strike stood on the porch of the house, watching them leave. As soon as they were out of sight a tear rolled down his muzzle. “The first time we meet, and for two of you, the last...”