Hecate's Orphanage

by BlackRoseRaven

The Shadow In The Shade

Chapter Sixty Nine: The Shadow In The Shade
~BlackRoseRaven

Thorn Blackfeather sat silently, his head bowed in concentration, his single foreleg planted in the ground in front of him. He breathed slowly in and out, and even though the air was swelteringly hot, he felt chilled to the bone.

He tasted dust and smelled burning oil and brick, as braziers burned with bright flames along either side of the cubical room. More flames crackled away in a fireplace in front of him, and candles burned in the lanterns that hung from the rafters, bubbling and boiling wax shifting and swaying in the metal bowls.

For a few minutes, there was only the silence, and Thorn Blackfeather. That was, until the door leading into the room was suddenly banged open by a stallion with a shifting, magmatic coat, who pranced happily in and declared: “Alright, that's enough for today! No need to be so serious!”

Thorn scowled as his eyes opened moodily, but the unicorn – and demon, clearly, with his mane and tail of flames – bounced quickly in front of him and clucked his tongue. “Hey, listen to teacher, huh? Don't push yourself so hard, you've got lots of time.”

“Time that would be better spent on other things.” muttered Thorn, and then he shook his head quickly before he sighed and straightened slowly: but like it or not, the demon was right. His parents had recommend him to the care of this Passion for more reasons than that he was just a family friend, and... “I mean... yes, I trust you, Burning Desire. I apologize.”

“No need for that, now! Now come on, no scowls, right? We want to be happy for when we see dear violet a little later today!” Burning Desire encouraged, his warm red eyes gazing down into the cold and confused murk of Thorn's, before the sapphire stallion winced when Burning Desire bopped his golden, rune-covered horn firmly against the smaller stallion's: a little too friendly of a gesture for Thorn to be entirely comfortable with. “And of course, my dear sister is looking forwards to working with you again.”

Thorn grunted, nodding briefly before he felt a twinge in his stump. He did his best not to look at the bandaged appendage, but somehow, Burning Desire caught it all the same: either in his emotions, or maybe the faint flex of his body, as the demon caught him and asked gently: “Do you need a bit of relief?”

The Passion paused, then remarked wryly: “Funny, usually I'm asking mares that question. And usually I mean in a much more-”

“I'm stable.” Thorn interrupted, and Burning Desire huffed, the sapphire stallion grimacing before he muttered: “I mean, I'm... alright. It's getting easier.”

“Good.” Burning Desire said amiably, and then he patted Thorn gently on the back and said softly: “Let's go ahead to the dining hall, shall we? It's time for lunch.”

“Is it? I still can't seem to keep track of time.” Thorn murmured, not wanting to admit how much that bothered him. In the past, he'd been able to mentally keep track of time down to the second. But now his internal clock seemed completely broken, and he couldn't even estimate how many hours he'd been asleep, or working, or just staring at the wall...

Thorn strode out of the meditation room, shaking himself out before he scowled a little when Burning Desire threw a foreleg around his shoulders and smiled warmly as he half-pushed Thorn down the corridor. “It'll come back in time. You just concentrate on getting yourself better, Thorn, I can't be looking bad in front of your parents, after all. Luna will never let me live it down!”

“Personal space.” Thorn said shortly, and Burning winced a bit as he stepped awkwardly away before Thorn sighed a little and lowered his head, striding down the hall before he asked quietly: “Why am I more impatient with the people I care about than strangers?”

Burning smiled gently at the stallion, becoming much more serious as he fell into step beside him, answering: “Because of expectation, I suppose. And because of the weight you put on yourself to be a good representative of Decretum.”

“And because it is easier to make those you care about suffer. We are all broken that way.” added another voice calmly, and Thorn and Burning Desire both looked up as Morning Glory approached, the massive Destroyer striding calmly down the corridor towards them before her fearsome metal mask clicked, withdrawing quickly to reveal her features.

She bowed her head ever-so-slightly to Thorn, and Thorn stopped and bowed in return politely, before the Destroyer rolled her eyes when Burning Desire hopped towards her, a chain snapping around from her back to quickly catch him around the throat. She hefted the Passion off to the side, strangling him lightly and ignoring him completely as she turned her attention to Thorn. “Freya has finally recovered enough to return to Looking Glass World. Apparently she is bringing a Primordial with her. I've heard of these monsters, but I know little about them, apart from how brittle the ones we fought were.”

“I can...” Thorn reached automatically for his prosthetic limb... a limb that wasn't there. His face twitched slightly into a snarl as black veins pulsed across his body for a moment, but then he firmly bit his lip, breathing slowly once before he started: “I will brief-”

Morning Glory slapped Thorn roughly across the face, making his head twitch to the side, and she said shortly: “Do not be weak. You are not weak.”

Thorn looked up at her with burning eyes, and Morning Glory looked back down at him coldly, fearlessly, until Thorn gave the briefest of nods and continued as if he hadn't been interrupted: “I can brief you on the subject. His name is Atavus and he appears to be non-aggressive, but we were only able to make a partial assessment of his abilities. I would advise taking the same security precautions as you would with a Draconequus.”

“Fine.” Morning Glory stopped, then she asked in a quieter voice, as she absently flung Burning Desire away before he could choke to death in the grip of her chains: “Why did Freya allow herself to be so grievously injured?”

“I assume it has to do with Loki.” Thorn replied almost snidely, and Morning Glory gave him a moody look before the sapphire stallion shivered a bit, then lowered his head and muttered: “Normally I wouldn't divulge information relating to the conflict, but as you were present... the survivors of the failed attack on Thokk's base of operations reported puppets of gods and Primordials in massive numbers. They also reported that Freya apologized to Loki about something. She almost certainly saw through his disguise as Thokk.”

“Sins against our family tend to weigh the heaviest.” Burning Desire suggested, as he stepped forwards and rubbed absently at his throat, and Morning Glory sighed a little as her eyes moodily flicked to her brother.

“I suppose that's nothing I can argue with.” she relented after a moment, then she scowled and stomped on Burning Desire suddenly, making him squeak as he was squashed into the ground. “Isn't that right, Ardent?”

“I love you!” yelped Burning Desire from under the mare's hoof, and Morning Glory rolled her eyes before she finally moved off the stallion, letting him awkwardly scramble to his hooves before he said with a smile: “And you know, as long as you love your family, you can heal any wound.”

“As long as you don't love them too much.” Morning Glory muttered, earning a scowl and a blush from Burning Desire, before the mare shook her head with a sigh and returned her eyes to Thorn. “I will be escorting Freya and her friend back to Ponyville from the portal in Subterra.”

“Freya wants to speak to me, then?” Thorn asked, and Morning Glory smiled slightly as Burning Desire clicked his tongue thoughtfully.

“Well, I can see why Moonflower and Necrophage are fighting over you! What a nice young colt you are!” Burning gushed, winking over at the stallion, before he squeaked when Morning smacked him into the wall. “Hey!”

Morning Glory only scowled at him, before she turned her eyes towards Thorn and muttered: “At least Ardent is good practice for keeping your temper.”

“He's good practice for us both.” Thorn remarked, and Morning Glory gave him a moody look as they strode into the dining hall together, where several succubi servants were already floating around the room, setting up a meal.

“I'll leave you and Ardent to your little tea party.” Morning Glory said distastefully, scowling across the table, before she added shortly: “You have half an hour. Then meet me at Thorn Palace.”

The Destroyer turned and left, and Thorn was silent for a moment before Burning Desire remarked: “It must be strange, thinking about the fact you were named after a building, the building wasn't named after you.”

Thorn only shrugged briefly, waiting politely for Burning Desire to sit down first before the sapphire pony took his own seat. He winced a bit, as he always did, when one of the succubi slithered up behind him- no, that's unfair. Check yourself.

He smiled politely over his shoulder at the demon as she gently tied a bib around his neck, then he turned his eyes back forwards as soup was ladled out into the bowl in front of him, the sapphire stallion gazing down into the stew before he remarked quietly: “Soups are rude to serve in Helheim. Too easy to hide poison in. Easier still to hide corruption in.”

Burning Desire pretended to look hurt beneath his own bright-pink bib, which Thorn noted ironically had 'Cool Boy' written across it in swirling blue letters. “I'm offended! As if I would ever harm you in the slightest! You're my godson! And quite the handsome gentlecolt, at that.”

“I know. Just... thinking out loud.” Thorn replied with a brief shake of his head, before he picked up a spoon in his hoof and swirled the stew, saying quietly: “There's only a little hesitation. I trust you, Burning Desire. Your methods are... strange, but efficient and effective.”

The demon smiled at this, then he shrugged a bit and replied kindly: “I just do whatever seems to help, that's all. If I may say so – and I hope you know I say it with all the love in the world, Thorn – you remind me a lot of my dear sister. You have a lot of anger bottled up in there, don't you? But not just anger... a lot of...”

“Yes.” Thorn murmured, shaking his head briefly before he sighed a little, spooning a bit of the soup into his mouth. He swirled it through his jaws, then closed his eyes and said softly: “It's good. Food... seems to calm me.”

“That's why I try and find the time to have a meal every now and then. I might not need it physically, but it certainly does help mentally.” Burning Desire replied with a smile, shrugging a bit as a succubus leaned on either shoulder of the Passion, visibly fawning over him: but with the silly baby bib on, Thorn could only smile in amusement. It wasn't like Burning didn't know he was ridiculous, either, considering the fact that he himself was wearing some elegant thing meant for nobility and Burning was in... a baby bib. “You have to get it out somehow, you know. It's better to get it out through smiles and laughter than fury and frustration, now isn't it?”

Thorn nodded after a moment, swirling his soup again silently. It was good, and he knew he should eat, but he just wasn't hungry. He forced himself to take another sip, then he sighed a little, setting down his spoon.

Burning frowned at him, asking: “Is there anything else you'd like, Thorn? If the soup isn't-”

“The soup is fine.” Thorn cut in, perhaps a little sharply, and then he forced himself to take a breath before saying in a quieter voice: “I apologize. The soup is fine. I'm just not... fine.”

He looked back and forth, then quietly pushed himself up and away from the table, murmuring: “I should go. I have to walk to Thorn Palace and it's... a long walk.”

He silently glanced at his stump, and then he glanced up as Burning Desire asked gently: “Would you like some help?”

“I think I have to do this alone. But I appreciate all that you've done for me. Thank you.” Thorn said politely, bowing his head for a moment before he turned and strode away, his eyes tracing along the ground as he made his way through Burning Desire's mansion.

He paid little attention to the erotic artifacts that lined the halls of this beautiful place, lost in his own thoughts, letting his hooves guide him on autopilot until he was carefully descending the stairs leading down to the streets of Subterra. Horses of Heaven, how he hated stairs...

He cursed as he stumbled on the last step, before gasping as his stump of shoulder flared with agony as there was a wet, ugly squelch as he caught himself. For a moment, Thorn breathed in and out roughly, before a snarl crested his muzzle as he clenched his eyes shut, and the limb of black ooze that had sprung from his shoulder shivered as the claws at the end of it dug slowly through the black stone road.

His unnatural limb shuddered, until Thorn forced himself to lean backwards, his leg dissolving into muck that splattered down over the road as he grasped at his stump. It was still dripping sludge and poison, the stallion gritting his teeth as he reflected that this was his miserable existence now, that he had been given a brand new limb and powers, at the cost of his sanity: no wonder Thesis had wanted to destroy everything. He wished he was dead. He wished everything was-

“Stop.” Thorn said quietly to himself, and then he closed his eyes for a moment before he raised his head, reminding himself: “I am Thorn Blackfeather. I am the Regent of Decretum. I am in control.”

He slowly relaxed, even though his stump was still bleeding sluggishly... but it never really stopped, he reflected. Even if it was corked for a while, it never really healed, and Horses of Heaven, it always hurt.

The pain was welcome, though. Pain, at least, was familiar: it was everything else that wasn't, he thought, as he rubbed slowly at his stump of shoulder before he forced himself to continue forwards, his head as high as he could force himself to hold it, his three-legged gait as fluid as he could make it.

It was easier to hide now, but he was still so angry. So upset. So out of control. But he was holding it all tightly inside, and the meditations and the lessons and the challenges from his mentors were all reminders of who he was, and what he had to do.

He didn't want to disappoint Hecate. When she called, he would be ready to return to Decretum.

He hated being a failure.

Thorn clenched his eyes shut, gritting his teeth for a moment even as he forced himself to continue forwards, one step at a time, ignoring the looks he got, ignoring the burning sensation of eyes, greedily watching, drinking up his pain; he ignored the laughter he was sure he heard, whether or not it was behind closed doors; he shrugged off the pity and the sympathy and the everything-else...

“It has no effect on you. It's not real.” Thorn muttered, shaking his head shortly as he tried to block out everything around him and crush down everything inside him.

He moved, one step at a time, his gait smoothing out as much as it could as he walked through the streets of Decretum, alone, his eyes focused forwards, his body burning with pain but his mind locked on his objective: the great pyramidal Thorn Palace.

Thorn scowled as he reached the bottom of the structure: it was a massive step pyramid, with a steep staircase leading up to the top of the enormous building, where he knew the portal ring was. That was clearly where he had to go. And, while he could walk around the outside of the structure and go up through the halls of the massive, U-shaped building that surrounded the pyramid... it would be just as much effort, if not more. And more time, more importantly.

So he could sit here and complain some more to himself, or he could get the job done, in other words.

Thorn grimaced a bit, then he looked up silently before he sighed and began to walk slowly up the steps, breathing softly as he took them one at a time, ignoring the aches in his body as much as he could. But pain, he reminded himself, was just his body's way of telling him he was still alive.

Thorn slowed to a halt as he finally reached the top of the pyramid, grimacing a bit as he almost crawled onto the top of the structure before he glanced up as Morning Glory said shortly: “You're early.”

“Preferable to being late.” Thorn replied before he could stop himself, and the demon glowered at him before she dismissed the demons around her with a simple flick of her head.

Before she could approach him, however, the silver portal ring that sat in front of a massive statue of Nightmare Moon burst into life, and Morning Glory grumbled as she turned towards this, muttering as Thorn joined her: “Don't think we won't talk about this later.”

“I eagerly await the opportunity to engage in discussion.” Thorn said dryly, before he scowled when Morning Glory grasped him, before the demon's eyes focused sharply on him as she noted the black stains around his bandaged stump.

“We can't help you if you won't trust us.” she said in a low voice, then sighed and straightened, forcing her own eyes to look ahead as Freya and Atavus emerged from the portal.

Freya was gazing at the ground, as if lost in thought, while Atavus sighed in visible relief the moment the portal swirled closed behind them, hugging himself and rubbing vehemently at his arms before he said brightly: “Well, this already feels like a much better place, now doesn't it? It's warm and friendly and there's no guns being pointed at our faces!”

The creature paused in mid-stride as his eyes caught on Morning Glory, and then his eyes widened before he hugged himself as he looked wildly back and forth, hissing fearfully: “Freya! Freya, there are demons here!”

“Yes, Atavus, you were already informed of that. Besides, you should know by now that there are worse things than demons in this universe.” Freya murmured, before she rose her head and looked first at Morning Glory, then at Thorn Blackfeather. “But perhaps we would all be better people if we were all forced to wear our sins upon our sleeves, aye?”

Morning Glory only bowed her head politely, and Thorn Blackfeather rose his own, his eyes meeting the Valkyrie's before she gave a wry smile as she strode towards him. They stood for a few moments, surveying each other, as Atavus nervously shifted from hoof-to-hoof, before the mare said almost abruptly: “Atavus, I think we'll stay here a while. Aye, I certainly want to rush back to my love, but... absence makes the heart grow fonder, does it not? And... there are things to do yet.”

Freya looked at Thorn, who looked back at her silently, before the Valkyrie murmured: “Yes, there are many things to do, yet.”

“We should have Discombobulation brought here, anyway, if you want to attempt a revival.” Morning Glory said calmly, before she winced a bit when Freya scowled at her darkly.

“No. I want him to wake up surrounded by family and friends. In a place where he was always happy...” Freya halted, then she laughed shortly and lowered her head, muttering: “Not that such a place exists for any of us...”

There was an uncomfortable silence and an awkward shifting, before Thorn asked: “What do you plan to do with me?”

“What I can, Thorn. What I can. The last thing we need is to lose you, too.” Freya replied, as she returned her eye to Thorn, measuring him slowly. Then she shook herself quickly out before muttering: “But first, I need a bath, wash all the machinery off of my body. Mud would be preferable, but I'll take hot water.”

“You know where the facilities are. Atavus, come with me.” Morning Glory instructed, and Atavus looked uncertainly at her, but the Destroyer remained impassive, promising: “I will not allow any harm to come to you.”

Atavus chewed nervously on his lip for a moment, and then he sighed and let his shoulders slump, mumbling: “Dens of lions, dens of wolves, dens of machines, it seems no matter where I go, I end up getting locked up in one or the other or the other!”

Morning Glory scowled, but Freya only smiled a little as she rose her head slightly, remarking wryly: “Now enough of that, we've been taken good care of, haven't we? Besides, maybe here you'll be able to find some of your own kind.”

“I sincerely hope not. There's nothing worse in the entire world than my own kind.” Atavus said plainly, and then he shook his head with a mock shiver as he hugged himself. “I'll take the cell, thank you very much!”

Morning Glory rolled her eyes, then she strode over to the Primordial before one of her chains hooked firmly around him, making him squeak as he was hefted into the air by one arm before she simply carried him away, the creature waving uselessly to Freya and Thorn as he called lamely: “I'll try and behave!”

“The things love makes you do. The friends love can help you make.” Freya chuckled quietly, shaking her head before she returned her eyes to Thorn studying him thoughtfully for a few moments as he only looked calmly back at her. “And what about you? What have you been learning, Thorn Blackfeather? About love, about life, about the world? Have you learned it's not always fair? Or have you learned that everything is perfectly fair, and we simply craft all our own sins?”

The stallion lowered his head for a moment, and then he shook it slowly before he asked in a dry voice: “Can you help me?”

“Not with that attitude.” Freya smiled at him almost gently as she rose her head, her single eye studying him silently before she said softly: “You aren't trying to learn to cope. Just to cover up. Aye, I know that well, Thorn. That's a path I walked. So believe me when I say that I doubt it's a path you want to walk yourself.”

Thorn didn't so much as twitch, only looking at Freya seriously, calmly... hollowly, she thought with pity. She rose her head slightly, studying him a little deeper, before she murmured: “Funny. I thought I'd get out of Decretum because sulking wasn't as fun anymore and they were moving all the toys somewhere new. But now I think I came here because I ruined my chances so badly with my last family, that now I'd like to make sure I fix what I can here.”

“No one can fix me.” Thorn said quietly, and Freya laughed loudly at this, which only made the sapphire stallion frown. “What?”

“Such angst. Of course, no one can fix you, no one can save the world, no one can ever understand what you've been through, oh boo hoo hoo. You're talking to an eons old goddess stuck in the body of a wretched horse, boy, and if your whining didn't amuse me so much, I'd cut off your other front leg and ask you if you liked life now or you wanted to go back to a few seconds ago.” Freya snorted and shook her head, then she said distastefully: “Whining gets you nowhere, boy. What annoys me is that you seem like the type who used to know that.”

“I... I do.” Thorn shook his head briefly, and then he muttered: “I do. And I'm learning to-”

“Cover it up better, I know.” Freya studied Thorn intently for a few moments, and then she shook her head slowly before she gestured at his stained stump. “What's that?”

“What's left of my leg.” Thorn answered stiffly, and Freya smiled wryly, tilting her head pointedly towards him.

Thorn grumbled a little as he shifted uncertainly for a few moments, and then he finally sighed tiredly before he reached up and rubbed absently at his stump, muttering: “Corruption. The Clay of Prometheus. I don't know. I don't know why my body has reacted to it now, why now it's producing the poison at an alarming rate, why-”

A golden sword burst into existence and shot at Thorn's face, and the stallion's eyes widened even as his body reacted on instinct, lunging to the side. More golden swords appeared around him to shoot at him with terrifying speed, but Thorn moved gracefully in spite of his three limbs, dodging and weaving between the deadly missiles before he snarled as a circle of swords appeared around his body, spinning slowly before they all pulled back-

Thorn snapped his horn down, creating a circular ring of energy around himself that the swords shattered uselessly into golden glass and energy against, but he stumbled as his horn fizzled painfully, his magic sapped from the effort. He looked up, his eyes widening as a single sword shot towards his face-

A black mass erupted from his stump, and Thorn shivered as he stood with a black claw extended on a muddy arm, long, onyx talons twitching slowly. The golden sword was buried through his black palm, but he couldn't feel it: he could only feel rage, and anger, and what was almost a sense of betrayal as he snarled at Freya...

And Freya simply smiled back at him before she said calmly: “We have work to do, I see. You are no coward, Thorn Blackfeather, so stop acting like one.”

Thorn snorted as he lashed his oozing limb down, shattering the sword buried through his palm as his claws dug into the ground and he hissed, as black veins pulsed through his body: “You know nothing about me.”

“I know enough.” Freya replied equably, and then she smiled as Thorn bared his fangs at her, as his eyes blazed with rage- “Don't keep all that anger pent up now. Go ahead, little boy, let it out. It's not like you could land so much as a scratch on me, after all.”

Thorn's eyes flashed as the fury took over for a moment, driving him to lunge straight at Freya as she only calmly waited for him. He slashed in with his oozing limb, but Freya summoned a golden sword and sliced it in half, Thorn's eyes widening before he leapt backwards, before his expression became ice cold as he dodged back and forth as more swords appeared around him, this time hacking and slashing at him instead of trying to simply stab into his body.

Freya lashed her swords down in tandem, and Thorn leapt upwards, kicking sharply off one sword, then jackknifing another before he kicked both rear hooves at Freya's face: she blasted him backwards with telekinesis, but grinned all the same. Thorn had the potential to be a better fighter than Antares, and he had more control over his magic than Innocence.

“You were raised hard, boy. And you're still weak and soft for it!” Freya mocked as she caught Thorn with telekinesis before slamming him straight down into the ground with enough force to make the bricks beneath them shake.

But Thorn was faster to recover than she expected, snarling as he rolled backwards and flung himself into the air, but then he howled in misery as he crashed straight into a volley of golden spikes launched by Freya, sent crashing and skidding backwards to the edge of the pyramid. Freya slowly advanced, studying Thorn with interest as he struggled to get up to his hooves, his horn glowing feebly: but with only a flick of her horn, she sealed his magic easily with her own, his horn glowing with golden light.

He looked up fearlessly at her, and Freya smiled slightly as she said softly: “Yes. You'll never have the ability your brother does, or the raw power your sister does, but you have your mother's gift for magic all the same. I don't remember a pony apart from Twilight who ever excelled so much in control.”

“I can barely even control myself.” muttered Thorn, as he slowly picked himself up, before he grimaced only slight when Freya snapped her horn down, and three swords appeared in midair, striking down into the ground around him.

He looked back and forth, but Freya only smiled as she flicked her horn lightly, lifting Gæfa, Dómr, and Drengr into the air as she remarked: “Well, those were easier to call back than I had thought. But aye, having a purpose again certainly helps, too.”

She quieted, then drew her eyes down to Thorn as she said softly: “Loki was no child of Odin, but was like a son to him all the same. Of course, Loki himself probably never saw that, Thor clearly being the All Father's favorite and all... but he truly was.”

Freya shook her head, and then she reached down and absently hauled Thorn up to his hooves as she continued: “Loki was accused of murdering Baldur, and being part of the conspiracy that murdered my brother. I showed him no mercy, and listened to no reason. I could have changed things: instead, I was the one who killed his children, and I helped bind him down in Ginnungagap, to suffer his eternal punishment.”

She smiled faintly, shaking her head slowly as she murmured: “It seemed right back then, you know. He made me suffer, so I would make him suffer. But... we were all misled, by Valthrudnir. I played right into the Jötnar's dirty hands.”

She quieted, then continued in a thoughtful murmur: “By now, your parents will be plumbing the depths of Valthrudnir's home. I will gather what friends and allies I can here, and I will tell you all that I remember, Thorn Blackfeather. But in return, you will work with me... and you will work with me honestly. I am not an idiot like Burning Desire and I am not blind to everything but results like Morning Glory. I will not let you become me.”

Thorn and Freya looked at each other for a few moments, before the stallion shook his head slowly as he grasped at his blackly-bleeding limb, admitting his greatest fear in a flash of honesty: “I don't think this anger will ever heal. I can't control it.”

Freya smiled wryly, and then she reached up and rubbed at her eyepatch as she replied: “You might be surprised what you can learn to live with, Thorn Blackfeather. Celestia lived with me for a few millennia, after all. And somehow I seem to be able to live with her.”

Thorn sighed a little as he lowered his head, before the Valkyrie asked, as she lightly smacked Thorn with the flat of one of her swords: “But don't you feel clearer now, after being pushed back into your place? Sometimes men, just like dogs, just need a good kick and shown who's really in charge.”

Thorn only looked moodily up at the mare, and then he shook his head briefly before he absently rubbed at his stump and murmured: “I should be doing more. Decretum is moving to Endworld, Loki needs to be tracked, Seneschal will need help reprogramming and there are other allies to speak to and Hel-”

“Stop that.” Freya bopped Thorn between the ears with another of her blades, making the stallion wince and sit back a little, scowling up at her. “You're useless like this, boy. Now, I'm going to keep an eye on you. Every time you're bottling something up, I'm going to smack you. Every time you lie or cheat, I'll hit you even harder. And eventually we'll get all that poison out of your system.”

“It doesn't work like that.” Thorn said pettishly, before he ducked a swing of one of Freya's swords, only to have his leg yanked out from under him with the other, flushing in fury and humiliation as he snarled and dug his front leg against the ground. If there was one thing he hated, it was being knocked down.

Freya only smiled down at him, before she said calmly: “Yes, I know that's now the best place for trying to sneak a look at my breasts, but get yourself on your hooves, boy. You're my nephew, after all. And Brynhild will have my head if I try anything with you.”

Thorn scowled as he pushed himself back up, before the mare added moodily: “Breasts between the legs, though. Aye, perhaps in some ways it's good to have all the wonders of a woman in one place, but there is an expression that comes to mind about putting all your eggs in one basket-”

“What do you want me to do? What do you want me to learn?” Thorn interrupted, but his eyes were almost desperate in spite of how sharp his voice was.

“I want you to learn that it's okay.” Freya shrugged a bit, and then she made her swords vanish one after the other before she gestured at the stallion with her head, saying softly: “Come along, then. Let's find where Morning Glory took Atavus. And be thankful. I don't have to give you this help, you know.”

“I am grateful for your time. But I have no reason yet to appreciate your means or methods.” Thorn replied, and Freya looked at him before she gave a slight smile, tipping her head towards him.

“Unbreakable. That's what you are. Why can't you remember that yourself, boy?” Freya asked, and Thorn frowned at her before the mare turned and strode away. “Let's get going, Thorn. There's some things we need to do before I can start training you.”

Thorn sighed inwardly, but all the same he followed: after all, he was here to learn. He just hoped that Freya had something useful to teach him.

Hecate stood in a world of infinity, a world of the Old Gods. A World Without End.

The home of the Reapers. A place beyond time and space, a place said to sit on the opposite pole of the Core World. A place that even Valthrudnir had never dared to attack...

Hecate smiled briefly as she walked silently over an island of stone and metal towards a set of eerily floating, flat bricks. She climbed this floating staircase, glancing off to the side, towards the horizon in the endless distance: beautiful clouds floated back and forth through the eternal twilight, tainted rich purples and reds by the ancient sun that lit the dark sky. The air was full of floating islands, many of these chained to the rocky, barren earth far below, as if to stop them floating away; and for all Hecate knew, that was precisely why they were.

If this World Without End was destroyed, it would destroy the lynchpin that held the Core World in place, making it vulnerable. And if the Core World was destroyed, it would shatter the chain of worlds that held all the different Midgards together. They would collapse on top of each other or fall into the Void or be cut off from Heaven and Hell, and that was the best case scenario.

Apparently the world that Odin had seeded with the silly horses had originally been one of Thanatos' worlds. It was an amusing irony that they were all alive today because of the whims of a God of Death: at any time, Thanatos could have claimed his world back from Odin. But instead, he had allowed Odin to continue his experiments with life: Thanatos, in large part, was why there had been an alliance between the Gods of Olympus and the Gods of Asgard.

Of course, part of that had also been because of Surt, their mutual foe: the Fire Giant who had lived in what the Olympic Gods called Hades, and what Asgardian gods called Muspell.

Hecate reached another floating island, striding across it towards a massive, gorgeous fortress of stone and glass and metal. Huge clockwork golems that easily rivaled the Titans of Decretum stood eternal guard outside its open doors, but Hecate ignored them, and they ignored her. She had been called here on business, after all.

She strode through a short corridor and into a beautiful but dusty, empty hall that was lined with gorgeous glass windows. There was only one other figure in this wall, who was slowly pacing as he read from an old, leatherbound book in one hand.

He barely looked up as Hecate approached, his black robes flowing around him, his skull cap tight on his serpentine head. Hecate waited politely for a few moments as the God of Death continued to pace slowly down the hall, before she cleared her throat, but Thanatos' cold silver eyes didn't glance up from the book he was reading as he grumbled: “I'll be with you in a moment.”

“Take your time, Thanatos, I only came halfway across the universe.” Hecate replied drolly, and the God of Death snorted before he snapped his book shut, turning towards her as his metallic eyes focused on her.

He strode towards her, towering over her. He scowled a little, which Hecate knew by now was the closest he ever gave to a smile. His cobra-like hood flexed slight as he regarded her, patterned with illustrations of life and death over the ashen scales, as he said shortly: “Let's make this quick.”

“Then tell me why you summoned me here, Thanatos. I'm here on your call.” Hecate said moodily, before she scowled when the god reached down and touched under her chin with one bony finger, tilting her head back and forth as he inspected her moodily.

“Jötnar power is not something to be tampered with lightly.” he said softly. “It seems to have taken a liking to you, though. I never would have believed otherwise that any creature could control such abilities, were they not born into them... especially his powers.”

“Was everyone afraid of him?” asked Hecate distastefully, and Thanatos gave a rusty laugh.

“Not afraid of him, no. But more of what he could and would do.” Thanatos replied evenly, before the God of Death asked, as his eyes locked with hers: “Should I be afraid of you, Hecate, and what you plan to do?”

“Only if you get in my way.” Hecate replied with the same calmness, and the two surveyed each other for a few moments before Thanatos gave a thin smile.

“I don't get in anyone's way unless they make a habit of interfering with my business. I'm above that. Neutral.” Thanatos replied evenly, before he shook his head and continued quietly: “But you have been trying to supersede my authority, and making promises that I might not be able to fulfill.”

“You can fulfill them. Don't act childish.” Hecate said, and Thanatos scowled at her before the Jötnar mare smiled and flicked her horn, Thanatos scowling darker as the dust immediately vanished from the hall and the windows, making it markedly brighter.

“Don't act like my mother.” Thanatos grumbled, attempting to boot the mare, but Hecate easily caught his foot and shoved it back, the God of Death stumbling once before he caught his balance and glared down at her.

She looked back up at him pointedly, and after a few moments, Thanatos finally sighed and muttered: “It feels like favoritism.”

“Perhaps it is. That doesn't change the fact she already knows the laws of Decretum and will be the most effective Reaper for the task. Send one of your automatons or another Great Reaper with her if you want to make sure she receives the proper training and meets your expectations.” Hecate answered with a shrug.

Thanatos eyed her for a few moments, and then he said moodily: “It's rude to read another's intentions, Hecate.”

“I'm still getting used to these abilities. And you said you wanted to keep this conversation short.” Hecate retorted, and Thanatos rolled his eyes before he opened his book and began to page moodily through it.

Hecate remained silent this time, only frowning up at him curiously, until the God of Death read out loud: “Childe born to bring pain, to the warrior gods he came. Childe, born to dream and defy, rend and rip the world awry.”

“Poetry. I always knew you were soft, Thanatos.” Hecate remarked, and Thanatos scowled at her before the Jötnar mare said quietly: “The reason we are in this mess in the first place is because the Aesir attributed too much fact to fiction that seemed to fit the situation they were in. With a bit of creative license, you could make any story fit the situation.”

“Yes, Hecate. But were the Aesir right or wrong? We'll never truly know.” Thanatos closed the poetry book again, looking down at it for a moment before he said softly: “Loki was a troubled soul. Clearly, he still is. But is it right to destroy him? Perhaps he too is only a pawn.”

“I will do what must be done. You know that, Thanatos.” Hecate replied evenly, and there was silence for a moment between them before the Jötnar mare asked quietly: “Do you feel sorry for him?”

“I am not without a heart. And all my years of neutrality, of using both innocent and wicked souls to fuel the furnace...” Thanatos chuckled quietly, turning his eyes moodily towards Hecate. “Many of the souls that wish for permanent death end up here, you know. Most of those souls end up being poured into the Great Equalizer below, where they are burnt away into energy that is poured back into the universe, to fuel the everlasting cycle. Some souls, and fragments of souls, however, we save. Come with me.”

Hecate frowned, but nodded and followed as Thanatos led her through the hall. They were silent as they made their way through the gorgeous fortress, which was staffed mainly by automatons and drones: machinery that would have impressed even Valthrudnir, she thought wryly, apart from the fact so much of it was covered in dust.

“You need to do a better job maintaining your toys, Thanatos. Or do you expect me to offer you a cadre of Worker Drones?” Hecate asked ironically.

“Dogmatists, preferably. I'm sure you can spare some to get the machinery back in order.” Thanatos shot back without missing a beat, and Hecate scowled at this.

“We are a military institution, not a cleaning and repair service.” Hecate said irritably, but Thanatos only snorted in disdain.

“You've performed other tasks for your backers in the past, haven't you? Besides, you owe me a favor.” Thanatos shrugged, gesturing absently at a machine as they passed it, which was almost invisible beneath the blanket of dust covering it: Hecate wondered moodily how it was possible that it was still chortling away. “Perhaps more than one, as a matter of fact. And you can have your little dollies copy the schematics of the machinery.”

“Yes, I am certain that your automatons would be useful around Decretum. Heavens know that most of my Orphans need help folding their clothing or putting away their dishes.” Hecate said distastefully, as they passed a drone that was busily sorting scrolls out in a set of racks that messily lined this corridor. “Do you ever organize?”

“I rarely ever entertain company. Particularly company as witty and loud as you.” Thanatos retorted, before they pushed through a large set of double doors, and Hecate felt the temperature drop several degrees as he added quietly: “Now shut up and look.”

Hecate strode slowly to the middle of the room, feeling the thrum of powerful magic under her hooves as she strode through several protective circles. She knew from the moment she walked over the runes they had powerful enough charms on them to incinerate any trespassers: perhaps even including her, in spite of all the Jötnar power now coursing through her body.

She halted in front of the pedestal at the center of the room, studying the glassy fragment that was floating above it. After a moment, Thanatos joined her, slowly walking to the other side of the pedestal and holding a bony hand on either side of the fragment, as he said softly: “I can't hide this from him forever.”

“A piece of Loki's soul. It must have fallen loose from Ginnungagap before Loki himself fell into the Void. Interesting.” Hecate said softly, as she studied the fragment intensely. She thought she understood what had happened: it wasn't so different as what happened with Avatars like Brynhild and Freya. Their souls had shattered, and if it hadn't been for the work of Odin, those souls would have fallen in pieces from Asgard. Most would naturally dissolve and fall into the Void before they reached any of the physical worlds, but others – the 'larger' pieces, the 'stronger' pieces – would have fused into mortals, making them a little more resilient, a little more powerful, a little more 'special...'

“It came here. I wonder why sometimes. Touch it, see for yourself.” Thanatos invited, and Hecate frowned slightly, but Thanatos only gave a wry smile. “Don't insult me.”

“Only curious.” Hecate reached up and touched the fragment of soul, closing her eyes before her entire body stiffened as a pulse went through her, as she felt... sorrow. Sadness. Anger. Pain. But... “Strange.”

“Strange.” agreed Thanatos, as he studied the fragment of soul. “But this, perhaps, is purely Loki. Who knows how the Prime has corrupted and tainted his original intent?”

“Then perhaps killing him will be my mercy to him.” Hecate murmured, before she shook her head as she studied the fragment silently. “Even with all his powers, he will not be able to attack Endworld directly... not unless he has some other way to build a link. Nor will he attack while I am present... not unless...”

Hecate frowned slightly, silently tracing over the fragment before she shivered a little as she thought she heard a whisper... no, not a whisper... a scream. “Is it...”

“Yes. It's crying out to be whole again.” Thanatos studied the fragment for a few moments, and then he turned and gestured at the other end of the room, which was dominated by a massive, black metal vault door. “Loki was badly injured. But because of what he's become, he can regenerate even the injury you inflicted on him, peeling the Astra away from his physical body. And to him, the Void is a sanctuary, while it was anathema even to He Of Many Countless Faces.”

“Another being of Astra.” Hecate paused meditatively, returning her eyes to the fragment. “Loki claimed, in so many words-”

“The young like to take credit for many things.” Thanatos said ironically, and then he shook his head and said shortly: “Focus. We have more important things to think about.”

“There are few things more important to me than understanding how much of this has been a game to him. If he did orchestrate the downfall of the Norns so he could take advantage of their powers, if he is somehow responsible for leading Brynhild to destroying Valthrudnir... that is something I think would be important to know.” Hecate said shortly, but she understood what he was talking about, as she returned her eyes to the fragment. “Will he attack here?”

Thanatos snorted, but as Hecate looked up at the God of Death, she realized that he was unsure. For a few moments, there was silence as they both studied each other for a few moments, before Thanatos gave a thin smile and said quietly: “Don't go thinking you're stronger than me, young miss. You're little more than a toddler to me.”

“And there's nothing to brag about in being an old crone, Thanatos.” Hecate replied calmly, before she said meditatively: “I can spare fifty of the Hexad Army at the moment. Ten of each unit should help fortify your defenses. I'll augment that with a hundred Kirin, if you think you can muster up some accommodations for the living.”

Thanatos rolled his eyes, then he grumbled: “If Loki does attack here, your toys will do precious little to stop him.”

“But they will distract whatever he brings with him, as I highly doubt he'll try to fight that fight alone.” Hecate answered, before she added almost challengingly: “I'll have a mobile base set up here so Decretum can stay informed of your status. But it's more than just this fragment of soul that has you concerned, isn't it?”

“Loki, or the Prime, if you prefer, has been making himself more powerful by absorbing souls: if not directly devouring them, then by channeling energy from the Void itself. But if he had access to all these countless souls...” Thanatos gestured at the vault door behind himself, and Hecate grimaced as she realized what the God of Death was saying.

“This is a soul furnace. It runs off souls and spiritual energy.” Hecate lowered her head, before she muttered: “Of course. The Blood Seer, from Aster's world. He said the soul furnace would play an integral role...”

“Loki has already hunted down many of Valthrudnir's toys under the guise of Thokk. He may send agents out to secure the rest of the Jötnar's loose tools.” Thanatos said quietly, before he added distastefully: “I would prefer the soul furnace was shut down immediately and completely, of course. I dislike any tampering with the cycle and seeing good souls go to waste.”

“My team has yet to report on the functionality of the furnace. It may be something we can use to our advantage.” Hecate replied, unflinching, before she asked: “Can you provide anything to deal with the Atropii?”

“Why should I?” Thanatos asked moodily as he crossed his arms, but Hecate smiled thinly: they both already knew the answer to that. The Atropii were a point of personal injury for Thanatos, and since Hecate's servants would doubtlessly be coming across more of them in the future... “Fine. I will ask that you give these out with discretion, but there are both tools and magic that can be used to tame the Atropii and enslaved Reapers. I hope you appreciate the level of trust I have in you, Hecate.”

“And I hope you appreciate the same I have in you, Thanatos. As I recall, most gods are terrified of walking into the lair of the God of Death.” Hecate replied, and Thanatos gave her a moody look before he smiled ever so slightly.

“I would never call you a 'god,' Hecate.” he replied eloquently, and then he put his hands behind his back as he turned away for a moment, studying the runes on the ground before he said softly: “Lastly, I have concerns regarding the Swan.”

“As does everyone else.” Hecate said softly, her gaze focusing on the God of Death's back. “Precisely why is that? She is no savior. No chosen one. Not even a hero. She is just a soldier.”

Thanatos chuckled quietly at this, before he said softly: “Swans were forged using arts that were forbidden to all gods. But even back then, Hel was being framed as the enemy, wasn't she? A perfect way for Odin to avoid any blame or repercussions for his actions.”

Hecate remained impassive, only tapping a hoof impatiently, and Thanatos looked up at the ceiling as he said calmly: “Astra is the stuff of souls. Tampering with it has always led to problems for all sides, hence why it was forbidden. And until now, I never believed even the Swans could see through the Astra without consequence. I assumed they were all so violent and emotionless in spite of their programming because they were forced to see through the Astra: forced to see every soul and living piece of energy at once, back and forth through time and space.”

“Cadence can see through the Astra. She's the only creature I've ever heard of being able to do so, however, without losing her mind.” Hecate said meditatively, before she asked: “Is that it? Her ability to see? Or is it her ability to kill?”

“It is everything, Hecate, and none of those things.” Thanatos answered with a shrug as he finally returned his gaze to meet hers. “Hecate, do you not understand what it means that Danzsöngr has come to life? A golem, an artificial guard dog... it had enough of a soul that it was able to fall as an Avatar. That it was able to mimic a mortal's emotions: whether or not it really has developed some split personality, I don't know. Could there be a Cadence, and a Danzsöngr? Or all along, has this golem only been insane, convincing itself that half of itself is 'good' and half of it is 'evil?'”

Hecate remained silent, but she thought she was coming to understand, as much as she didn't want to, as she and Thanatos looked at each other before he said softly: “The Swan is dangerous because ultimately, she is unknown. To me, to Loki, to Hel herself, I suspect... and to you. And don't think I'm blind to how you feel about her, that she is-”

“If she needs to be dealt with, I will be the one to deal with her.” Hecate said coldly, before she took a step towards Thanatos, the God of Death leaning back slightly in surprise. “If you have any further concerns regarding my personnel or projects, then I advise you to either bring them to my attention now, or consider the fact that I will maintain my projects and my personnel the way I desire, and you should do the same.”

The two looked at each other for a few moments, and then Thanatos smiled thinly as he said softly: “If I revoked your visitor status right now, Jötnar, you would be disintegrated. Perhaps you're the one who needs to work on being more polite, Princess Celestia.”

“Empty threats. If you wanted to erase me, you would do it.” Hecate replied contemptibly. “Baseless intimidation is below the God of Death.”

“No wonder even Valthrudnir could never tame a shrew like you. Do you fear anything, pony?” Thanatos asked with a snort that was half-derisive, half-amused.

Hecate thought for a moment, then she looked up and responded: “Failure. And my name is Hecate. I recommend you use it.”

Thanatos only smiled thinly, then he turned and gestured for the Jötnar mare to follow, and Hecate did, resisting the urge to look back at the fragment of Loki's soul as they headed back into the endless world of metal and glass that ran on burning souls.