Fairlight - The Fortress of the Four Winds

by Bluespectre

Chapter Thirteen - Landscapes

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

LANDSCAPES

Ahead of me a huge gout of flame erupted from the broken top of one of the myriad of black, craggy mountains. Further to the east, another, and then another, blasts of molten rock spewing high into the air. Combined with the orange tinge of the sky from the fiery inferno below, it was as if I’d entered another world - the underworld by the looks of this goddess forsaken land. Luna give me strength, I’d never complain about summers in Equestria again! Smoke and fire was all around me, heating the air to intolerable levels as the thermal currents buffeted me this way and that. Not only was staying on course becoming increasingly difficult, it was making me uncomfortably hot in the now sweat soaked flight suit. I wiped the sheen of sweat from my muzzle; wendigo were not designed for heat it seemed. Smacking my lips, I lifted up my canteen and took a draught of water. It was warm. Damn it! I’d need to land soon; flying conditions were worsening the further I progressed, as if the very land were rising up to confound me. To make matters worse, I was starting to tire quickly. Checking my heading one last time, I spotted ahead of me a large black outline on the side of a smoking mountainside, one that appeared to be… ‘unnatural’ when compared to rest of the nightmarish landscape. The beacon was taking me right to it too. Suddenly my heart thumped hard in my chest. Was this it? I was so-

From the corner of my eye a dark shadow, black as midnight and impossible large, flitted across my vision. A dragon? Dear sweet goddesses, I couldn’t face another of those monsters so soon! I was still worn out from my encounter with the last one, my wounds having barely healed. I needed to rest, to try and gather what little I had left of my strength. What use would I be to anypony if I reached my destination only to drop dead from exhaustion, or better still, make myself a defenceless snack for any passing dragon who felt a little peckish? But where was I to land? I gave myself a hard shake, trying to focus my weary mind and draw deep upon my mental, and physical reserves. Magical healing always took a massive toll upon my body. Normally I would eat, drink and rest after the adrenalin had finally drained away, giving myself a chance to recover. Yet now... now I had no choice but to fight through the fog of weariness. I was tired, but I would go on. I had to go on. I pushed everything I had into my wings, trying to pry as much speed from them as I could. The shadow moved, vanishing into the darkness. This was my chance!

With little choice left, I swept down towards the strange shape on the mountain. Images of raking claws, enormous teeth, rending and tearing through flesh and bone, flashed through my mind like lightning. At any moment I expected the dragon to strike, to cut me down in a crimson explosion of gore the way the last one had ripped apart the thestrals. I was afraid. Not just for myself, but for Shadow. How could anypony, let alone a single, lone thestral, survive in this hell? Had Star Beard been wrong? He had killed me once, I wouldn’t put it past him to do it again. Maybe this was his way of simply removing me from the Withers once again? Shadow was no ordinary thestral after all. She was the daughter of the duke and duchess of his tribe, and here I was, a complete stranger, come to take her from her home to some uncertain future in a world where I was seen as a wanted criminal – a danger to the very society I had sworn to protect. Some thanks I’d got for that! How bloody ironic. Bastards. Every stinking last one of them. You couldn’t trust anypony: not the gods, not the agency, the watch – anypony. Magic surged through me, pushing me on towards my destination. Only now I wasn’t so much flying as plummeting, the muggy air blasting past me, streaming out my mane and tail as I fell from the heat soaked heavens to the dark patch below.

At the last moment I flared my wings, wrenching one of them badly with the excessive velocity. It was like slamming into a brick wall. I gasped out loud as the wind was driven from my lungs, but at least I was down on the ground - and staring up at the enormous carved entrance before me. There was no doorway, nor any gate to be seen. It was simple a hole, a large arch, cut into the very rock of the mountain with no discernible purpose. Deep swirling motifs showed a simplicity of taste that was bordering on the austere, though nothing so much as hinted as to why it was here. Or who made it, I wondered to myself. I may have even been impressed if it hadn’t lead to yet another black cave, and one frightening similar to the charnel house I’d just escaped too. Folding my wings, a twinge of pain made me wince. I’d over-exerted myself, and now my body was re-acting to it. Fortunately a draught from my flask, as well as a moment to catch my breath beside a large rock, made me feel at least a little better despite still being bone numbingly tired from muzzle to tail. Thankfully I was sheltered here in the shadows. It was probably the nearest I’d found to ‘safety’ as I’d seen since entering this desolate area. Mind you, the word ‘safe’ was a little subjective when considering what might well be lie beyond the enormous archway. My more immediate concern was that falling asleep here may be the last thing I ever did, especially as caves around here tended to be…occupied.

I closed my eyes for a moment, stretching my legs before taking out a couple of Heather’s oat cakes. Tarragon, as usual, turned her nose up in disgust at the mere sight of the things. Shaking her wings out, she wandered off to look for her own dinner instead. I noticed she avoided the archway without any word from me too. Talk about inauspicious! About an hour had passed by my reckoning. Dad’s old watch was still stuffed into a pocket and I just couldn’t face trying to reach it under all the other gear. I surprised it was all in one piece too. Not that it was much use against the leviathans that lived round here. My scythe and sword may as well have been made out chocolate. As for the beam weapons I had… well, I may as well have brought a sodding water pistol for all the difference they’d made against the scales on that monster. Damn it all, I wish I’d managed to snatch one of the axes the thestrals had brought with them as Hammer and I had run for our lives. They’d done at least some damage to the dragon. Blowing it up from inside with the MAD was more blind luck than anything else, though the end result was what really mattered – I was alive. I took out a rag and wiped my muzzle and neck. Gods, this bloody heat! Wendigo were beings of snow and ice, not this! I lifted up the pendant and moved it from side to side, up and down. I closed my eyes and sighed. There was no doubt about it. Heat or no, I’d have to face the cave’s interior. Goddesses, I hated those oppressive places with a passion, and so far there hadn’t been anything I’d found to change my mind about them either. I was stowing my packs when Tarragon flapped down beside me with something sticking out of the side of her mouth. I tried not to look, but my bloody curiosity won the day. I wished it hadn’t. It was a tiny leg…

Gathering myself with the tiny dragonling nestled in her favourite position on my back, I ventured forth. I must have been mad. Perhaps I was too. Only a lunatic would go in there, especially after what had happened last time. I bobbed my head and huffed under my breath, cursing my cowardice. How could I rescue my mare if I was quaking in my overshoes just to walk into a dark cave? What sort of a stallion was I to let fear grip me like this? I gritted my teeth, feeling the magic tingling in my veins. Fortune favoured the bold, and fear or no fear, I would march forward. Death should hold no terrors for me, so why did I feel like this? ‘Bravery,’ dad had said, ‘Is being afraid and still going forward. Only a liar say they aren’t afraid. Fear keeps us alive.’ Even saying that, walking into the darkness of that cave took all my willpower, although to be honest the crunching and subsequent loud burp from the now content micro-monster on my back distracted me from dwelling too much on what I might find at the end of it all. As cute as she was, the thought that one day she’d be as big as the beast I’d faced earlier was not comforting. Unless she was on my side of course! I just hoped she didn’t get so hungry she forgot who her friend was.

I pressed on, my hoofsteps echoing loudly around me despite my efforts to keep as quiet as possible. Stealth was impossible. Anything with ears could have heard a bloody moth fart in there. To make matters that little bit more interesting too, the further I penetrated into the cave the hotter it became until it was like wandering into a sauna fully clothed. The air was hot and dry, my mane and tail quickly becoming soaked with sweat, not to mention my poor coat. Tarragon’s own body heat didn’t exactly help matters either. What I found most odd though, was that on either side of the cave’s walls were… paintings? Hang on, was I seeing things? I moved in for a closer look. Dear gods they were! Large paintings of scenes that were so typical of Equestria, hung neatly arranged on the cave walls. They were full of tree’s, lakes, and green hills - the kinds of things I’d never seen anywhere in my travels in the Wither World. They had a certain familiar style to them too, one which reminded me strangely of the ones in Shadow’s bedroom. What in the name of all the gods were they doing here?

“Visitors?”

The distinctly feminine voice rolled out from deeper inside the cave, making my mane twitch. I swallowed as my heart skipped a beat, and I took a steadying breath before calling back in my politest voice, “Please, forgive the intrusion, I was not aware anypony lived here. It was not my intention to trespass in your home.”

“Any… Pony?” The voice sounded puzzled. “What are you, stranger?”

Here it comes…

“I am known as Fairlight, my lady. Lord of the four winds tribe of wendigo. A visitor from the mortal realm.”

Dragons seemed to like grand titles, and although mine held about as much credence in this world as a sieve holds water, I hoped at least this one may be impressed enough to decide not to turn me into a char-grilled dinner.

The voice returned, heavy with curiosity. “A wendigo? I have not seen one for many a year, most certainly not here in my realm. You must come further in, my mysterious visitor. I await you… eagerly.” And with two slices of bread probably.

Well, I’d come this far, so with a deep breath and my magic making me look as impressive as possible, I headed into the cave’s deep interior. The black rock soon opened out into a large central cavern, the fire licking the walls casting shadows and light in equal measure. The heat was, thankfully, slightly lessened here, and there was even a slight breeze of sorts providing fresh air. Around the walls were yet more of the landscape paintings, along with massive iron braziers and neatly placed items of what appeared to be silverware. At the centre of it all, lying across an expanse of steaming black rock, crystals, and… cushions? Lay an emerald green dragon whose scales shone magnificently in the firelight. Her great blue eyes glinted as I approached. Maroc’s memories itched away at the back of my mind, like a house cat wanting to be let in for its dinner. Obligingly I opened the door and let them through. They didn’t control me, they didn’t even say the words, they were more of a guide really - a teacher and mentor both. I let them guide me...

I stood up straight before bowing low and respectfully, keeping my eyes downcast. “Forgive my rude intrusion, great one. Your kindness for allowing me to speak to you is matched only by your magnificent beauty.”

Although my words may not have been entirely sincere, she truly was an amazing creature to behold, and I couldn’t help but feel a little jealousy of such incredible power and form.

She laughed quietly, for a dragon, her voice dropping to a more tolerable level. “My, my! Aren’t you the flatterer!” She stretched out a hind leg before re-adjusting herself. “Tell me again, wendigo, what is your name?”

“I am Lord Fairlight, my lady.”

She considering me for a moment with those large blue eyes.. “Hmm, yes, you appear to be the one I have heard of.” She scratched her chin thoughtfully. “Release your power, sir.”

“Pardon?” I said in surprise.

“Release your power,” she repeated. “Now. I want to see what lies… ‘beneath’.”

I felt distinctly uncomfortable doing this. My wendigo magic was the only chance I had of getting out of here if everything went wrong, any yet something about this large female put me at ease, making me feel as though I could trust her. Why exactly, I couldn’t say, though she claimed she’d heard of me apparently. Intrigued, I wanted to learn more, and so did as she commanded.

“That’s better!” she exclaimed, clapping her great front claws together.

My pony self stood before her. I felt oddly naked and vulnerable in the presence of such a powerful creature, but I didn’t make any attempt to move from where I stood. The female dragon leaned toward me, her blue eyes taking in every detail.

“Hmm… Yes, you do have the look of him about you. And yet…” She sniffed my coat before letting out a low rumble, her eyes narrowing. “You smell of dragonling! Why do you smell of one of my children, Wendigo? Speak quickly!”

I looked behind me, but Tarragon had vanished. Damn it, her timing was bloody perfect! The huge dragon let out a whuff of smoke and I readied myself to grab the power and, perhaps, a headlong escape. But just as I thought things couldn’t get any worse, a small, flapping, squeaking Tarragon landed by my hooves, the remains of yet another example of the local fauna in her mouth. A few snaps and it disappeared down her throat.

“Urp! Ack!”

The great dragon looked at the small form with one baleful blue eye. “What is this?” she said in surprise. “You have one of my… my daughters! What is she doing with you? SPEAK!”

I felt a cold shiver run down my spine at her words. The dragon’s demeanour had suddenly transformed from polite and calm to one of anger, shock and surprise. I bowed low, preparing to speak when I heard a long low chattering and squawking from above me. Tarragon had flown up to beside the head of the huge female and was… talking? It wasn’t in any language I knew or could understand, but the two seemed to have no trouble communicating with one another. I could only stand there and wait until they’d finished. Must be a female thing, I speculated. Meadow and Tingles often wandered off to talk out of earshot of yours truly, and I seldom found out what they’d been discussing either. There were some things in this, and the other world, that were universal after all it seemed. A few minutes later, Tarragon flew down to sit by hoof, nuzzling me happily.

The emerald dragon raised an eyebrow as she appraised me once again. “My daughter speaks highly of you, Lord Fairlight. It would also seem I have been quite rude to you. I am Etrida, eldest of the dragons here. You are fortunate indeed to have made it here. Alive that is. Many of my kin would have seen you as food and devoured you, wendigo or no.”

I nodded. If there was one thing I could agree with her upon, it was that point. “My lady,” I said politely, “you appear to know me, and yet I have never had the honour of meeting you before.”

She smiled, letting out a jet of steam out from her massive nostrils. “That would be because my last servant told me all about you. She is the one whose paintings adorn my walls. Beautiful, are they not?” A waft of sulphur huffed from her great nostrils. “Equestria, the realm of green and blue… that is my real home.”

Hope suddenly flared within me. “My lady, this servant of yours. Was she named Shadow? Is she here?”

Etrida shook her head. “She was, but recently she left to join the monastery to the east. I fear she has given up on ever seeing her mate again. That would be you, I believe?”

My heart sank, and yet at the same time I felt a thrill of excitement. I was on the right track! “Yes, my lady,” I said respectfully. “I have been away a lot longer than I’d hoped.”

The great dragon eyed me, showing several of her lethal battery of teeth. “You saved the life of my daughter, and for that, I am grateful. Dragons do not forget their debts, Lord Fairlight of the four winds, and I always pay my debts.”

I bowed. “Please, my lady, you are too kind. I helped Tarragon as it was the right thing to do. Anypony would have done the same.”

She shook her head, laughing ironically. “No, no I don’t think so. What creature saves one that would normally prey upon them? Regardless of her size, she is still a predator.” Etrida waved the matter off with a dismissive gesture. “Now, tell me, what did you call her?”

“Tarragon,” I replied. “I fear I don’t know her real name.”

The great dragon raised an eyebrow. “She didn’t have one. I would have named her myself if I had been there when she’d hatched.” Etrida stretched out her wings and hung her head momentarily. This was unexpected! I didn’t realise dragons had such complex emotions. Was she… was she crying? A deep breath accompanied a gout of smoke from her nostrils as she turned back to me. “Forgive me, I quite forgot myself for a moment. As a mother, to not see your children… it pains me so.”

“Lady Etrida,” I began curiously, “you said Tarragon your daughter? I don’t understand. She was with her father, Barathel, in Equestria when we met.”

Her eyes opened wide in surprise. “Barathel?! So, the old fool is still alive is he?” She rose to her feet and stretched languorously. “I thought…” She trailed off, lost in thought. “I had believed him dead long ago. When we were thrown into the Wither World, I lost my mate and my eggs in one blow. Can you imagine what that was like for me?”

I shook my head. “No, my lady, although your children appeared fit and well when I saw them. There were a great number of them too.” Enough to wipe out an army assault team, I thought to myself.

She wasn’t impressed. “Hah! And that stupid lizard hasn’t even bothered to name them! Typical male… utterly useless.”

Well that was nice wasn’t it? Being Equestrian I was used to playing second fiddle to mares, but now even the bloody dragons were at it! Did Maroc get this treatment from Arathea? I resigned myself with a sigh. Yes... he probably did.

“I expect you will be wanting to look for your thestral mate, Shadow, as soon as possible,” Etrida began. “However, you may stay here for the night in safety if you so desire. I can smell the fatigue on you from here.”

Although excited to be off, I would most likely have crashed into a mountainside I was so tired.

“Come, Fairlight,” Etrida said pleasantly. “Let us relax and talk together before you rest. I would know more about you and your journeys.”

Oh goddesses, here we go again! The great dragon settled near me, which was somewhat disconcerting considering her head was about the same size as my whole body. Meanwhile Tarragon had wandered over to her mother and was nuzzling her, chirruping happily.

“Tarragon,” Etrida murmured. “I approve of that name. You are Tarragon, daughter of Etrida.” She licked Tarragon’s head, eliciting a delighted squeak from the tiny dragon who then rolled onto her back for a tickle. “Why did you choose that name, Fairlight? It seems an odd choice for an Equestrian to make.”

I scratched the stubble on my chin. “I named her after a dragon in a foal’s book of stories: ‘Tarragon, the terror of the east’. I just liked the name I suppose. It sounded right for her.”

“And so it should,” Etrida smiled. “Tarragon was my mother’s name.” Tarragon let out a little burp and a jet of fire whooshed out of her nose making Etrida laugh. “See, Fairlight! She can make fire already!”

Oh, bollocks… The descendant of ‘The terror of the east’ was riding around on my back! Why me? WHY?! I hung my head, smiling wryly to myself. Was I the only one who thought it a little hypocritical that a ‘demon’ would call a dragon a ‘terror’? I wasn’t a demon at all, but then, what did that matter in the court of public opinion? To some, I was. To Celestia, most definitely. Resigning myself to an evening of story telling, I made myself as comfortable as possible and we began. Tarragon, rather wisely I thought, had apparently heard this all before and was already nodding off. At some point I must have fallen asleep too, and awoke to my dragonling friend licking my muzzle. As cute is this probably sounded to the casual observer, the smell of her breakfast on my nose was far from pleasant. Dear gods, what had she been eating?! I jumped to my hooves in alarm, furiously rubbing my face.

“Gah! Tarragon!”

A deep laugh from behind me made me turn to see a happily smiling Etrida. “She likes you, Lord Fairlight,” she observed. “You are honoured indeed.”

I looked down at the dragonling and smiled, rubbing her head with my hoof. “I am, and she’s saved my poor old hide more than once.” As I fussed the little creature, a thought that had been troubling me finally surfaced. “Etrida, in truth I’m not really sure how to look after a young dragon. Wouldn’t she have a better upbringing with her own kind?”

The great dragon clicked her tongue. “She’s is not like a pony, Fairlight. At her age she can fend for herself, and will grow ever stronger over time. She has a mind and a will of her own, and she has made her choice to stay with her friend.” Etrida nuzzled Tarragon who chirruped happily. “And that friend would be you, Lord of the four winds.”

I cringed involuntarily as the dragon eyed my mischievously. “Etrida,” I asked, “why did Shadow come here? I don’t understand.”

The dragon shrugged, “She was looking for the Shallows, also known as ‘The Rift’ to some. It is the place further into the mountain range where the veil is thin. The poor thing was half dead when she got here and I took her in. Of course, when she revealed she was an artist I changed my mind about eating her, so she stayed with me and painted the magnificent pictures you see on the walls of my home.” I suppose I should have thanked her for not eating my mate, but I was just so relieved I let her continue uninterrupted. “Shadow talked about you, about how you’d fought the Earl of the Purple Sands before returning to your world. The fact that she could not follow you began to become an obsession, and she eventually she went looking for a way to reach you herself.”

“Did she ever reach the Shallows?” I asked politely.

“Yes, I escorted her there,” Etrida sighed, readjusting her hind legs. “There are many dragons around there who would not take kindly to a thestral in our lands, Fairlight. You have already met one of them.” She flapped her wings before settling them by her sides. “Let us not mince words. Powerful magic blocks passage between the worlds in the Shallows, a magic that is as old as the world beneath your hooves. No mere mortal could pass through such a place, otherwise I would have left long ago to be with my children. I explained this to Shadow, but she would not listen, insisting there was ‘another way’. Although what this way was precisely, she could not say. We visited there several times, and each time, was to no avail.” Etrida sighed, “I knew she would leave here one day, and leave she did. She said she was heading for the monastery, where lost souls gather to spend their days in prayer to the goddess. If Shadow believed she could find something there that could help her cross over to your world, then I fear she is sadly mistaken. None leave that place, Fairlight. None at all. Not even dragons will approach it.”

Lost souls? This all sounded very dramatic, and more than a little ominous too. Etrida didn’t strike as the type to exaggerate though, and from what little I knew of dragons their prideful nature alone would prevent them from admitting to such things as being ‘unwilling’ to enter an area due to, say, superstition alone. No… There had to be more to this.

“This monastery,” I began, “You said it is where ‘lost souls’ spend their days in prayer?”

“Not literal lost souls,” the dragon replied, no doubt assuming that was my concern. “They are those who have lost their way in life: Thestrals, of course. Some are warriors who have been disgraced in battle, whilst others are those whose lives have simply lost all meaning. In the past their people used to practise ritual suicide in such situations, however due to their ever dwindling numbers such acts were outlawed as ‘An affront to the goddess’.” Etrida waved a claw, displaying what she thought of such foolish notions. “Now these poor creatures seek peace in the company of others of their kind. Many die attempting to reach the monastery of course, although I suspect that is probably more of a kindness to them than to wither away in such a place.”

“They go there to die...” I murmured.

“Eventually,” Etrida said with a yawn. “However, when one has lost all hope, would it not be the most sensible decision to simply end ones own life?”

I looked up in surprise as her words. “That’s a terrible thing to say!”

“Why?” Etrida asked curiously. “If one has no desire to continue living and only sadness and hopelessness remain, then why continue to suffer? Because your society demands it of you?”

“Because there is always hope,” I said confidently. “Always.”

“Is there? And what of you, Lord Fairlight?” Etrida leaned towards me. “Are you always full of hope? Have you never felt the bitter sting of hopelessness and loss drag you down into darkness? Have you never stared into the void as the cold grimness of bleak reality snaked itself around you heart?”

“I-”

“Can you stand there before me and say, truly say, that you have never so much as even considered bringing an end to your life?”

I hung my head. “No...”

“Of course not.” The great dragon eyed me, her nostrils emitting a faint wuff of smoke. “Your kind are always so sure of yourselves, and with good reason. Equestrians draw many to them because of their positive nature. They are a flickering light in the darkness of despair. Indeed, they embody much of what other races seek their entire lives: joy, optimism, love… hope.” She smiled at me quietly. “Though I suspect that may be something of a generalisation, correct?” I nodded, unsure of what to say in reply. Etrida closed her eyes as she continued, “You lost your wife, and your daughter. You yourself were murdered, denied entry into the afterlife, then lost your mate. And yet you still hung on to hope. Perhaps without even realising it yourself, that tiniest sliver of hope remained alive, silently, hidden deep within your heart. Can you imagine what it would be like if even that minute link to life were gone, Fairlight? What would you do then?”

“I… I...” I swallowed. She was right of course. When I had lost Meadow and Sparrow I had longed for death so I could be with them once more. And then I met Shadow, though even she was taken from me. Then Tingles had come along. She had rekindled the fire in my heart, stirring the ashes of a defeated creature back into a burning flame. I had crossed worlds to get this far. I had cheated death, fought monsters, seen my friends die in droves around me, and yet here I stood. There was no bucking way some damned monks were going to keep me from my mare. I had lost too much already. I wouldn’t lose now! “I will bring her home, Etrida”, I announced, lifting my head. “Nothing will stop me.”

Etrida leaned back, nodding to herself. “There are no gods here, my equestrian friend. No magical alicorn to appear in a flash of light to guide and protect her children. Here you stand, here in the darkness, and there is only you. Only... you.”

“The gods?” I chuckled throatily. I let out a rumbling neigh, my eyes never leaving hers. “They’d only get in my way.”

The dragon’s eyes widened. “Really?” Suddenly she let out a low rumble, her lips curling into a grin. “I see now why my daughter likes you, warrior of the wendigo. Here… a gift for you.” She reached behind herself and rummaged about in a pile of oddments before holding out her claw with a large crystal orb in it. “Use this, should you ever need me.”

Without thinking I took the orb in my magic and floated it over to hover in front of my muzzle. It looked for all the world like one of those crystal balls you see at gypsy carnivals. I gazed into it, staring at my reflection in its polished surface. “What is it?” I asked. “How does it work?”

“Straight to the point, Lord Fairlight. I like that,” Etrida chuckled. She stared into the globe intently. I could smell her breath - deep, rich, and sulphurous as it washed over me. “All you need do is look into it and say my name aloud,” she purred. “As you do, think of me, both in your mind…” She lowered her voice to a near whisper, “and your heart.”

“Eh?!” I nearly choked as Etrida leaned toward me, batting her eyelids. Suddenly she rolled back on her haunches, laughing so loud the very mountain itself seemed to shake.

“Oh, if you were only a little larger!” she roared, “what a mate you would make!”

My cheeks burned as red as coals. “Um… Thank you. I don’t know what to say.”

Etrida shook her head, holding her sides as she tried to contain her mirth. “A fine trait in a male!” she announced, taking even more delight in my discomfort. Gradually however her humour abated, and she leaned towards me once more, lifting my muzzle with her claw. “You have put a smile on face, Lord Fairlight, for the first time in a long time.”

Quickly I slipped the crystal into my pack, trying to ignore my furiously burning ears. Etrida had a remarkable charm about her that was as majestic as it was terrifying. Almost subconsciously I felt for the other crystal that was hanging around my neck; my link to Shadow.

“Fascinating,” Etrida said quietly. Noticing my gesture, she reached out to lift it in her claw. “Equestrian magic. Although… Hmm...”

I looked back at her curiously, hoping she wasn’t considering adding it to her hoarde. “Is something wrong with it?” I asked, glancing at the pendant. “It guided me here, but I’m not sure how it would show me to the monastery.”

“Oh, it shall.” The great dragon’s eyes shone, reflecting the light in the crystal. “This is an old magic, Lord Fairlight. Old as creation itself. Such a thing carries a power, a spark, of that which made the heavens and the earth, the seas, the sky and perhaps… even the gods themselves.”

Suddenly I didn’t feel quite so happy about having the damned thing around my neck!

“The gods?!” I asked in alarm.

Etrida smiled, letting the pendant go. “It is only a tiny fragment,” she said dismissively. “The one who crafted this took quite a risk playing with such unpredictable magics.” She scratched her chin in thought. “The proximity to the Shallows may be resonating with it, interfering with its intended purpose.”

My heart sank. “Oh...”

The great dragon clucked her tongue. “So quick to despair!” she huffed. “Come now, wendigo, you think I cannot show you the way myself? This is my home now. Such as it is.” For a while she grew quiet, apparently lost in thought before suddenly reaching out, and to my surprise, lifted the crystal once more, placing a kiss upon its shiny surface. “For luck,” she breathed. Sitting back, she settled her wings, nuzzling Tarragon with a tenderness that was remarkably touching for such an immensely powerful creature. “Now, alas, our time together has drawn to a close. Take my gift and leave in good cheer, Lord Fairlight of the four winds. Go… Find Shadow, and let us part with gladness in our hearts.”

“It has been an honour to meet you, Lady Etrida.” I bowed formally, yet at the same time felt a curious warmth welling up from deep inside me. As alien as this all was to me, I had enjoyed her company and was saddened to be leaving so soon after meeting this fascinating dragon. Naturally I had heard of ‘the glamour of dragons’ like so many ponies growing up, about the way they could enchant you with a mere glance from those fathomless, timeless eyes of theirs. And yet I sensed no threat, nor even magic from her really, only a sense of genuine curiosity, and a kindness that reminded me of… my mother. I took her claw and kissed it gently. “Farewell, my lady. I hope we shall meet again.”

“Oh, I think we shall,” Etrida smiled. “Now go!”

“Ack!” Tarragon suddenly leaped onto my back, chirruped, and flaps her wings, eager to be off. Gods know, she had the right of it.

Bidding our kindly host farewell, Tarragon and I flew up through the pungent sulphurous clouds into the eternally dark sky above. Etrida had explained the monastery was only a few hours flight from her home, though whether that was on dragon wings or wendigo, she hadn’t been specific. Either way my heart was pounding away like a steam engine. Shadow was so close now I could almost smell her scent on the air. Tarragon must have sensed my excitement too, as the young dragon began squawking loudly, flying around me with her little green eyes flaring brightly. I smiled broadly. Fate had brought another daughter to the Fairlight family, although something told me that sorting out a bedchamber for the little dragon could be a bit of an issue. One careless puff of flame could well transform our favourite country tavern into a blazing inferno. I wonder if we could fireproof the rooms somehow? I closed my eyes and grinned wickedly to myself, picturing Heather running desperately after the tiny creature with a bucket of water as puffs of fire sprung up in her wake. Mind you, Tarragon would make a most excellent cigar lighter, so you had to look on the positive side, right? I let out a laugh, rolling through the clouds alongside my young companion. Despite the ominous warning of the monastery, I was in a pleasantly buoyant mood. What was it Etrida had said now… ‘nopony leaves’? Ooooh! Scary! What a load of rubbish. My biggest worry was meeting another dragon on route, but so far so good. Making long sweeps with my wings I increased my altitude, staying up as high as I could where the air was cleaner. It didn’t do much to help with keeping your bearings of course, however Etrida had warned me to keep above the clouds as dragons tended to keep low when hunting, using the poor visibility to their advantage. I imagine their prey would do the same, as indeed I had at first. These great hunters would lurk in the clouds, carefully watching for any movement, and then strike like lightning before their intended dinner could react. Seemed a bit back to front to me, but still bloody frightening I can tell you. In any case my confidence was back, and I felt decidedly refreshed from a good nights sleep in the warm cavern. Etrida had even allowed me to use one of her giant cushions, which I suspected Shadow had made for her. It was still a bit of a mystery what exactly had gone on there, but the two seemed to have shared some sort of bond, and for that alone I was grateful beyond words.

Wind and cloud whipped past me, becoming thinner by the second until they finally gave way to unveil a spectacular view below me. Etrida’s directions had been perfect – it was the monastery alright. What she hadn’t told me however, was just how immense this place actually was. By the goddesses it was huge! Turrets, spires, walls, and battlements galore adorned the black rock structure that sat there in absolute silence, looking for all the world like a castle from a nightmare rather than some ecclesiastical retreat. Etrida’s warning’s, which I had thought somewhat exaggerated at the time, suddenly lost their humorous edge. A shiver ran down my spine. This sprawling structure was one that emanated an unmistakably grim finality to any whose mere gaze fell upon it. It was a warning, a promise to those who so much as even dared consider approaching its massive iron gates that this was the final destination for them. There was no return. No escape. No wonder the dragons kept away. Even from up here I could feel it, the way it seemed to suck the very light from the air around it, hungrily drinking it in until it vanished forever into that black, black stone. There would be no escape from this final repose of hope, and yet here I was, trying to enter – a fool knocking on the gates of hell.

I gritted my teeth as I descended. My first task was working out how to get in there. I sure as hell didn’t look like a thestral, and I certainly didn’t know how they’d react to a wendigo suddenly appearing on their doorstep like some travelling sales stallion. However, if they truly were servants of the moon, then surely a wendigo fit the bill, right? We had fought on the side of the goddess of the moon during the great war, so what more could they ask for? It had to be worth a shot. In a blast of freezing blue-white mist and flaring wings I landed in the large open courtyard to be greeted with… nothing. The immense gates stood there behind me in silence like the rest of the structure. They were closed, with no sign of anypony posted here to greet would-be visitors. Mind you, considering the fact that those who came here could fly, they were probably present more for aesthetics than any actual practical application. Still, you would have thought there would have been at least one thestral on duty, surely? I turned, my hooves crunching on the black sand and grit that carpeted the ground. It didn’t look to have been swept in years, nor were there, as I noticed upon inspection, any other hoofprints other than my own. Was I mistaken? As if in answer to my unspoken question a light breeze whispered through the silent expanse of stonework, whipping up small eddies of sand that brushed against my legs. My mane itched nervously whilst my magic rumbled away to itself deep inside my soul, waiting to be called upon. Though to what end? My imagination began to stir, conjuring up images of a thousand pairs of eyes watching me from the shadows. And yet looking around, all I could see was dark emptiness. There were no lights in the tall thin windows, no movement, nor any sound other than that made by the wind and my own breathing. If Etrida had not assured me Shadow was here I would have believed this monastery at the end of the world to be completely abandoned.

A horrible sense of foreboding washed over me as I walked on cautiously through the courtyard towards a long light of stone steps. Tarragon, who had been quiet ever since we had arrived, dug her claws into my back and began making a faint clicking sound. As much as I could not understand the little creature’s language I could still detect the inflection in the sounds she was making - she was nervous. Goddess knows, I knew how she felt. Reaching behind myself with my magic, I readied my pulse gun and short sword. The feel of them afforded me some small comfort. Silently I prayed I would not need to draw them, however it always paid to be prepared for any eventuality. Besides, the safe extraction of Shadow from this frightening place was my primary concern, and I could only do it if I was in one piece. I couldn’t afford to let my guard down now, not when I was so close.

My hoofsteps echoed between the walls, adding an eerie and unsettling feel to what was already an unnerving place to begin with. Come to think of it, perhaps my presence had actually frightened the inhabitants away? Wendigo had not been seen in the Withers since the war, and I did look like a phantasm of sorts I suppose. Not that I really saw myself like that of course, but to others… well, maybe I did look a little ‘demonic’, to coin a phrase. Not that thestrals looked that much better of course. That lot could scare the crap out of a minotaur, let alone a pony. Speaking of which, I wonder how Mitre was going to react when he saw Shadow? I couldn’t wait to see his face! I chuckled under my breath, feeling my spirits lift slightly as I pressed on. Before me lay a grand staircase constructed of the same black rock as the rest of the monochrome edifice, the whole flanked by impressive statues depicting the unmistakable form of Nightmare Moon in battle with dragons, ponies and even, yes, Celestia. They looked quite dramatic truth be told, if not entirely historically accurate. If old crumpet buns had been as feeble as depicted here, with the looming lady of the night bearing down on her, I doubted Equestria would look anything like it did now. Still, the look of horror on her face was almost comical. I wonder If I could get this reproduced as a painting? I’d love to have that on my wall. Pulling my attention back to the present and magic ready to hoof, I ascended the long flight of stairs, keeping my wings folded by my sides. It was easier to get to my weaponry with them out of the way, yet even now I still found them a little strange. Although I hadn’t been born with them, every day that went by I found myself becoming more and more comfortable in my wendigo form, and wings came as part of the package. Just to be on the safe side I let the magic slip away, revealing my more ‘Equestrian’ self. There was no sense in frightening the locals, right?

“Halt! State your business here.”

The voice reverberated around me, coming from, I suspected, somewhere up ahead. With the echoing effect of the acoustics in this place I was finding it hard to locate the source. Time to play the game then…

“I am Lord Fairlight of the tribe of the four winds wendigo,” I announced. “I have travelled far to visit your monastery. Is there somepony in charge I may speak with?”

There was a delay of several moments before a different voice, older sounding this time, called out, “Be so kind as to wait, Lord Fairlight. We shall be with you momentarily.”

Up ahead, the large set of doors at the top of the stairs swung inward, revealing a passageway lit with a long row of burning torches. Dwarfed by the large doors, a pair of thestrals walked silently toward me wearing deep purple cloaks adorned with white crescent moons. The taller of the two, a deep blue thestral with red eyes, bowed before me.

“Welcome Lord Fairlight,” he said formally. “Welcome to the monastery of the blessed moon. The abbot had asked us to respectfully request that you follow us. He shall receive you in his chambers shortly.”

I nodded slightly, “Very well, lead the way.”

If formality and stiffness made an impression on these creatures, I’d have to play along with them. Despite them being monastic they were still a warrior race at heart, with all the militaristic trappings and hierarchy that accompanied their way of life. These two thestrals however were exactly what I’d expected of the religious class – they were far from what you’d consider chatty, and walked along like they’d been struck mute. I also noticed, thankfully, that Tarragon had disappeared back into my pack and was keeping quiet. In a way that worried me, she was surprisingly perceptive for such a young creature, and if she was keeping low it suggested there was the possibility of trouble ahead. It would be wise if I followed her example and remained on my guard as well. And on the subject of guards, I noticed as my two escorts walked along, a slight movement in their cloaks that belied some sort of object hidden beneath the folds of cloth. I couldn’t be certain of course, but I was left with the distinct impression they were armed. Interesting. And worrying. Almost subconsciously I took a firmer grip on my magic, keeping it close. Walking along the austere corridor we passed a number of statues of thestrals, minotaurs, and of course the ever present Nightmare Moon. All of them bore small inscriptions on a metal plaque describing events, deeds, names, and so on. I was able to read some of them, another ability of my wendigo self I imagine, but others were in a different script altogether and totally alien to me.

Noticing my interest, one of my hosts looked back over his shoulder. “Heroes of the great battles against the Celestians. All of them, honoured here for eternity in stone.”

I wondered if there would be any wendigos here? Somehow I doubted it. The attitude towards my people was mixed to say the least. Some saw them as cowards, fleeing the battlefield when they were needed the most, whereas others viewed them as beings nearly as divine as the goddess herself. The truth, I suspected, was buried amidst the stone on the mountainside along with the bones of my ancestors. But whoever paid any heed to truth when a good story would suffice? I was becoming lost in my ruminations when we eventually arrived at a large hall. I was directed towards a heavy black stone table and chairs set with bowls of fruit, carafes of wine, and crystal goblets. Light was provided to the incredible scene by an array of candles, torches, and the deep yellow flickering of a log fire. It all looked extraordinarily Equestrian, and also... ‘pre-prepared’. Had they been expecting visitors this day? If not then they had a remarkably efficient team of staff to have assembled such a welcome at a moments notice. A loud click of metal resounded in the room as a side door opened and a deep scarlet thestral emerged wearing a heavy blue cloak with a single large silver crescent moon emblazoned on the back. His mane was the purest white, like his eyes, creating a distinct impression of timeless age which for some reason sent a twinge of unease along my spine. Just how old was this fellow? Star Beard and Thorn were at least a thousand, by the Equestrian calender anyway, yet neither of them bore any more signs of their extraordinary years than wrinkles and flecks of silver in their manes and tails. I turned to face him as the thestral’s eyes looked me up and down with an unfathomable stare. Meanwhile the other two bowed, backed away several steps, then turned to walk away leaving me with the old thestral.

He nodded silently to himself, as though affirming something I wasn’t privy to before speaking in a low soft voice, “Forgive my rudeness, Lord Fairlight, my name is Abbot Rigel, the spiritual leader of our modest flock.” He bowed. “I fear we seldom receive guests to our humble home, as you can imagine. And wendigo…” The abbot gave a faint smile. “Well now, it has been many of the goddess’s moons since one was last here within these walls.” The ancient thestral held out a hoof. “But please, won’t you take refreshment with us? Be assured you are most welcome indeed. We are all children of the goddess, are we not?” I nodded to him and accepted his offer of a chair. “May I offer you some wine?” he asked politely. “Perhaps fruit from our very own orchards? It is not much I fear, although I think you will find the berries to your taste.”

I eyed the items he indicated to on the table. Sure enough the bowls held the same crystalline fruit of the variety I had come to know so well since my first visit to the Wither World. Yet as thoughtful as the gesture was, alarm bells were ringing in my head ten to the dozen. There was something definitely ‘off’ with this place and, I suspected, the abbot himself. The fellow had been remarkably well prepared for my visit, and it set my mane to twitching like crazy.

“Thank you for your kindness, Abbot Rigel, but I must decline. I won’t be able to stay here very long I fear,” I explained diplomatically.

He nodded slowly, “I see, my Lord Fairlight. That being the case therefore, may I enquire as to the purpose of your visit?”

In for bit… “Abbott,” I began, “I seek a friend of mine, a thestral by the name of Shadow. I understand that she is here?”

“Shadow?” he muttered, scratching his chin. “No… I don’t believe I recognise the name, however she may be one of the new initiates.” The abbot looked me in the eyes, a slow smile spreading across his face. “I will need to speak to our registrar to know for certain. Would you care to wait in our guest quarters whilst I make enquiries? I shan’t keep you waiting long.”

I smiled in return, “Thank you abbot, I appreciate your understanding.”

“Yes…” he said quietly glancing toward the door before turning back to me. “Blessings of the moon’s light be with you, Lord Fairlight. Brother Danu will show you to your room.”

With a final bow, he swept from the room as a younger robed thestral appeared in his place. Silently he held out a hoof beckoning me to follow him, which I did so politely, if a little warily. We trotted down one corridor after another, each just as plain and austere as the last. Whoever had built this place was big on the whole ‘dark castle’ stonework theme. So much so it would have served well as a villain’s home in one of my old foals books. I was half expecting a skeleton to jump out at any moment, or find myself walking muzzle first into spiders webs. The monastery however, was spotlessly clean of such frightening paraphernalia; it was bad enough without any such unnecessary additions. Abruptly my ears pricked up. Somewhere in the distance I could make out the sound of chanting, a low thrumming sound that made my chest vibrate slightly. It was probably some invocation to the goddess of the moon, or perhaps a prayer. I wonder if Luna could hear them?

My thestral guide, Brother Danu, noticed my interest. “The brothers are preparing for the commemoration of the final battle,” he explained politely in his soft voice. “I pray their songs will not disturb you?”

I shook my head, “Of course not, Brother, I am a servant of the goddess also.”

Danu nodded silently, apparently satisfied with my response. A moment later we halted before a heavy, dark wooden door. “This is your room, my lord. I will ensure food and drink are brought to you presently.”

I was barely inside when the curious fellow backed out of the room, shutting the door behind him so quickly he nearly took my tail off. At least he didn’t expect a tip, I thought to myself sarcastically. Mind you, I have to say that the room itself was actually quite well appointed, if a little austere for my tastes. It was certainly in keeping with the rest of the monastery though – black, on a theme of black. There was a bed, a wash stand, cupboards, windows and so on, just like you’d expect. All of it in that strange, black wood I’d seen in the territory of the Purple Sands. Bringing it here must have been an incredible undertaking in its own right, particularly when you considered having to run the gauntlet of the ever present, and ever hungry, dragons. Perhaps they had arranged some sort of non-aggression accord with them? I wasn’t sure if dragons were the religious type, however Etrida had been very wary about the monastery, and perhaps by extension, that also applied to the monks? It was certainly plausible. Lifting up the bedsheets I tested the mattress finding it to be very well padded indeed. By thestral standards it was positively palatial! Overall I was struck by how such a massive structure like this came to be in the Wither World in the first place. It was in total contrast to everything else I had ever seen here, and at the complete opposite end of the spectrum when considering the nest like constructions of your typical thestral village. It made me wonder who had built this place... and why. Thestrals simply didn’t seem the reclusive, religious type. I was pondering this as I reached round to take off my gear, nearly jumping out of my skin as Tarragon immediately leaped out, chirruping at me in agitation.

“You’re all fired up, little one,” I said, hanging my pack over the chair. “What’s up, eh?”

The dragonling bounced around my hooves, flapping her wings. She was desperately trying to tell me something, but all I could pick up on was her distress. I could understand enough though - it was this place, it had to be. Pleasant room notwithstanding I didn’t like it at all, and neither did Tarragon, but with any luck we wouldn’t be here much longer. The pendant’s crystal was now blazing brightly and even began to float up when I held it in my hoof, a sure sign my goal was within reach. Tucking it back into my flight suit, I’d just taken a draught from my flask when Danu re-appeared, letting himself in after a brief knock.

“Initiate Shadow is out with friends at the moment, my lord, and shall not be back until late,” he announced. “I am asked to respectfully request that you rest here until she has returned.” The monk bowed and left the room with as much ceremony as he had when he’d entered.

‘Out with friends’ eh? What, at a nightclub? Bullshit. The crystal was glowing so brightly she was probably within a stones throw of right where I was standing. Something stank about this whole situation… badly. Of course there was still the chance I was over-thinking things, a disagreeable trait of mine I’d battled with all my life, but it didn’t mean that my initial reaction was wrong. Still, they said she’d be here soon, so I’d play the obliging host and wait as they’d requested - for now. I checked my watch, a few minutes couldn’t hurt. Unfortunately those minutes had apparently brought re-enforcements with them, gradually transforming themselves into hours. For the time being I occupied myself with feeding and playing with Tarragon, as well as checking my supplies for the umpteenth time. There wasn’t much more to look at that I hadn’t seen a hundred times already. There were still faint traces of scorch marks here and there from where the royal guard had tried to blow me up. Or was that the dragon in the mountain? Goddess almighty, I couldn’t remember! It made no difference what world I was on, everything seemed to be either trying to kill me, eat me, or otherwise eviscerate yours truly in one way shape or form. I put down my pack with a sigh. If only I could be repaired as easily as cloth and leather, then perhaps I wouldn’t be the bucked up mess I was now. My body might heal itself well enough thanks to my wendigo magic, so long as I didn’t take too much damage of course, but what toll was it all taking on me in other ways? Every time I shut my eyes I saw flashes of teeth, fire, blasts of magic, and heard the screams of the dying as though they were right there next to me. Was this what I was going to be seeing for the rest of my life whenever I tried to sleep? I let out a tired breath and slumped in the chair, tickling Tarragon under the chin whilst time dragged on so slowly I could almost feel the seconds passing by. Where the hell was she? I found myself checking my father’s old pocket watch again and again. It was late. In the absence of any sun or moon in the Withers, I worked on the assumption that the time when I awoke was probably around eight, so by my reckoning it was now late evening. One day, I’d have to find out how the locals knew. Damnit all! Regardless of the time, there was still no sign of Shadow, and now I was starting to feel my temper rising. That was it, I wouldn’t wait any longer. Rising from the chair I checked my gear and took a quick swig of water from my flask. Suddenly a knock at the door made my ears perk up. I turned just in time to see Danu walking in without bothering to wait for a reply. Politely, of course…

“The Abbott has requested you join us. Initiate Shadow is here.” His monotone drone was grating on my ears, yet his message was like a balm to my weary soul. At last!

“Lead the way,” I said, holding out a hoof.

Danu turned and walked slowly back out of the room. Trying to contain my mounting sense of elation, I followed the quiet monk as he led me down a number of twisting corridors lit with the ever present torches. They were most likely magic I suspected by the lack of noticeable fuel for them. My horn itched slightly every time we passed one too, confirming my hypothesis. Although nothing new in Equestria, it was strange to find such things here, especially considering the thestrals didn’t have any intrinsic magical skill that I was aware of. There was something else I noticed too; the thestrals who I’d first met when I arrived at the monastery, and this ‘Danu’ character, had a decidedly strange manner about them. They were slow, drawling almost, like they were in a daze or trance of some kind. What really bother me though, was their eyes all had this odd, far away look which made my skin crawl. Thankfully I’d had the foresight to put my gear back on just before my guide had reappeared. As soon as I could, I wanted to collect Shadow and get the hell out of here. As we progressed the chanting I’d heard earlier was back. With ever step the sonorous sound grew louder, and judging by the light of the crystal, Shadow must be mere yards away.

Sure enough, Danu soon halted, motioning towards a large, black wooden door. “Initiate Shadow is inside,” he intoned. “Please go in and wait for her there.”

He didn’t open the door for me this time. Instead the odd thestral simply walked away and left me standing there like a spare part. Unsure whether to simply walk in or not, I knocked on the door. There was no reply. Shrugging to myself, I grasped the handle in my magic and pushed. It was heavy, but with a little effort it creaked open allowing me access to the room beyond. Stepping through, I paused. There was a large group of thestrals in here, the cloaked figures kneeling in absolute silence before a short flight of steps that led up to a stone altar. The similarly cloaked figure of the abbot stood calmly atop a dais behind a large wooden lectern.

“Come, Lord Fairlight,” he said smiling and holding out a hoof. “Your friend is here. She is waiting for you.”

I walked slowly into the room, my senses on alert as a bitterly cold shiver ran down my spine. My eyes took in the circular room, the smell of incense and that timeless, resonating sound. My goddess… it was all so… familiar… The arched ceiling flickered in the torchlight, casting eerie shadows as the monks chanted quietly, their faces hidden in the dark cowls of their cloaks. Shadowed figures romped through my minds eye. The cries of helpless fear… Flashbacks to the chamber in the fortress gripped me fast in an instant. Tingles, the spirit, the ghosts! My heart thundered in my chest, my breathing increasing rapidly. I swallowed, trying to regain my senses, fighting back the hideous images. But it too late. Distracted, by time I realised somepony was beside the door there nothing I could do. A heavy dull thump to the back of the head later, and the lights of my world were snuffed out. Darkness took me, and then, in what seemed like the blink of an eye, a throbbing pain accompanying a sound like I was underwater, panicked me back into a terrified consciousness. Desperately I tried to stand, but no matter how hard I tried my legs refused to move. They were held fast. Looking about me as best I could, I could see ropes of white sinew tied around my fetlocks. Panic rose within me in a torrent, flooding my senses with its urgency and I reached for the magic, finding only a muggy, indefinable mess of ‘something’ in its stead. I was lying flat on my back on a hard unyielding surface and felt almost drunk, my senses dulled… What had these bastards done to me?

Beside me a robed thestral appeared, his smiling face betraying a cruel inner darkness behind his burning white eyes. “Welcome, lord of the wendigo. We are truly sorry for your current… ‘inconvenience’. However, the goddess provides as always. As it has been. So shall it always be.”

“What… what are you doing?” I gasped past the pain and grogginess.

The robed figure’s emotionless smile never wavered. “Why, you are being honoured, my lord. This is the commemoration of the defeat of our beloved goddess by the evil one. Every ten years we remember her and sacrifice one of our own, in the sure and certain hope she will bestow her wisdom and life upon us, her humble servants.” He stroked my mane with his hoof. “Now, a wendigo walks into our halls on the eve of the ceremony… truly an auspicious event! You must be joyful knowing you shall be joining her soon, to feast at the side of the goddess of the moon.” He held his hooves up and called out to the assembled monks, “Be thankful for the moons embrace, brothers. Praise the moon!”

“PRAISE THE MOON,” the monks chanted in reply.

I was finding it harder and harder to speak. A strange bitterness in my mouth suggested they’d drugged me with something to block my magic and dull my wits. “You’re... insane…” I gasped. “The goddess still lives, she’s… in the mortal realm even… as we speak.”

The abbot smiled, “You speak of Princess Luna of course, yes?” He closed his eyes, nodding to himself assuredly. “I understand your confusion, she is not the nightmare of the moon she once was… but she shall be. Soon. Before long her night will cover the land and we shall be free of this place, to stand by her side as we should, once more.”

He turned to the side and smiled gently as another thestral walked in wearing the now familiar black cloak, only this time without the embroidered moons. This new thestral held something in their mouth that glittered brightly of gold and silver, catching the lamplight like tiny bursts of fire. There was something about the movements, the sway of the hips… it was a female. She moved closer, laying the metallic object on the altar beside to me. I struggled through the drug induced haze to reach my magic but, damn it all… it was just not there. If Maroc was still there somewhere inside me, now was the time… before these buckers… oh goddesses… The thestral pulled back her hood to reveal the midnight coated mare beneath: sleek, lean, and with eyes that smouldered like glowing coals. The mare’s neat sharp teeth glinted in the torch light, her mane and tail as dark as the night sky. She was as terrifyingly beautiful as I remembered, yet the fire in her eyes was wrong… like this whole damned place.

“Shadow…” I gasped, trying to wet my dry lips. “Shadow, it’s me… Fairlight.”

She didn’t respond. Almost mechanically, she stood on her hind legs and lifted up the object from the altar. With a flick she unsheathed the familiar looking dagger which I stared at in horrified fascination as it caught the light. I recognised it immediately, the blade glowing blue with little flickers of electricity sparking along its fuller. It was my gift from Thalio, the alicorn who had been sent to recover me from the Withers. I could have laughed at the irony of the situation. All this way, all this time, merely to be killed at the hooves of the very mare I had come to save! My eyes followed the blade’s path upwards, the grip held between Shadow’s forehooves as she towered over me. Around us the chanting of the monks rose to fever pitch, the abbot shouting in a language I’d never heard, but right then all I could see was my beloved thestral… and the blade held motionless above her. With an unnatural scream from the abbot the blade descended, hissing through the air in an unstoppable deadly arc. Even as it pierced my chest, I kept looking into Shadow’s eyes, smiling.

She was so... beautiful…

Comments

[Fallen Knight]

Had Star Swirl been wrong? He had killed me once, I wouldn’t put it past him to do it again.

Star Beard

Also, freaky cult activities, yikes.