Stories of a Warden

by Rosencranz

VII

Volume 1

VII

“You broke the faith, and strangely, weakly, slipped apart.
You gave in -- you, the proud of heart, unbowed of heart!
Was this, friend, the end of all that we could do?
And have you found the best for you, the rest for you?”
-Rupert Brooke, Desertion

“Revenge isn’t a good motive. Sure, it sounds all well and good. An eye for an eye, punishing those who wrong you, all that jazz. Really, though, think about it. You get too caught up thinking about vengeance and you forget what’s really important: survival.

“Sure, dying in a final act of revenge sounds good on paper, but at the end of the day, where are you? Dead. Doesn’t matter how or why, you’re dead, buddy, and that’s what matters. Nope. That’s no good. Staying alive’s the important thing. And don’t forget it.”

Yep. That sounded about right. Maybe she’d use a word or two differently, but that’s about what Summer would say to the idea of revenge. But he would ask anyway. He would get his chance. He would kill Princess.

Even if Summer dragged him back to Equestria, he had contacts. He could come back to this island, with a few friends, and a few weapons, and then he would see who got tossed across that granite floor like a ragdoll...

But for now, he would have to bide his time. He would ask Summer, of course, because it couldn’t hurt. But then, he already knew what the answer was. And how she would say it. And he would get his chance anyway. He had vowed to.

Of the multitude of ponies Chief had vowed to kill, only one had ever survived. The Mole. The moniker itself sent waves of cold fury running through Chief’s stomach. Fury, and frustration. He didn’t know who--or where--the Mole was, but he would get his chance. Just as with Princess.

She had sealed her fate, really. Set up her own death. She had beaten Chief, knocked him senseless about the stony room, but it wasn’t then. She had taken down his team--his friends--with him, blasting them with magic and bashing them to pieces on the granite walls, but it wasn’t then, either.

It wasn’t when she had held him aloft by his neck, crushing the air out of him, and told him she wouldn’t let him back down--wouldn’t let him breathe--unless he renounced his allegiance to Celestia.

It wasn’t even when he had done it, blue-faced and through gritted teeth, at the behest of a panicked, half-dead Summer, and Princess had knocked him out cold.

It was when he was lying unconscious at her hooves and she had him sent back to the pit. It was when she let him live. That was her fatal mistake. And she would pay dearly for it.

Because as the last breath faded from Chief’s spittle-flecked lips, swearing off his pledge to his Princess, another vow had run through his head and replaced it, just before the darkness closed around his eyes.

I will kill you.

And the next thing he knew, he was awake in the pit.

Awake in the pit, and wracked with guilt. He had sworn undying fealty to Celestia when he became a guardspony, and even after he left the Guard, the oath went with him. He owed her his life, his livelihood, his home, everything.

And he had forsaken her. For survival. For Summer. For Roads.

For his daughter.

They still needed him--alive. He was no good to them dead over a few words, over a simple oath. An oath that can be retaken, he reminded himself. And yet...

Words meant something. His word meant something. To him, at least. Until he could revenge himself on Princess, it wouldn’t be right again. He had never rescinded a promise, never broken a vow. He had sworn to honor Celestia until death--and by staying alive, he had failed miserably. He owed her now. A debt had been incurred.

A debt that wouldn’t be fulfilled until after Princess’ last breath.

Summer wouldn’t understand. To her, there was nothing more important than survival. No words more meaningful than living. No pony worth dying for.

Things were different to Chief. Revenge meant something. The debt he now owed Celestia was as real and tangible as the island. He could feel it pressing on him, weighing him down, lodged in his mind. He would do what he had to do. He would die if necessary.

Summer and Roads would be able to manage without him. Summer was tough, Roads, toughening.

And your daughter...?

Her aunt could take care of everything. He could count on her.

Nothing left to lose, he thought. For Princess, that was a very dangerous thought. Of course, he had to get out of this pit, first.

Chief looked around. By the reddened rays of the dying sun he could see Roads sitting unconscious against the dirt wall, face bloody, head swollen. Summer lay on the ground next to him, eye bruised, gashes along her back barely covered by a thin layer of gauze. He had been afraid that she would bleed out, lying there on the dirt floor, and had convinced Willow and Aspen to root through their confiscated supplies and find a medkit. With his careful instruction, they had stitched her up and bound her wounds as best they could before returning to their posts.

In return, he had shown each what to use out of the kit to stop the swelling on their nearly identical head wounds. Apparently, they held no ill will for him, despite the prior violence.

“Oh, sure, no bad blood,” Willow had assured him. “We woulda done the same, given the chance. Well, not the same exactly, because you’re bigger than us, and faster, but assuming we were larger than you and able to--”

“He understands,” Aspen had said.

And Chief had given a gruff nod.

They weren’t bad at all, it seemed. They did their jobs, nothing more, just as Strongsteed had claimed.

Strongsteed... Where was he?

Chief twisted against his bonds--they’d tied him down again--to see the earth pony propped up against the wall, eyes unfocused, mouth hanging open. At his hooves sat a half empty bowl of what appeared to be soup. It steamed slightly, giving off a faintly sweet scent.

“Strongsteed! Hey!” he called.

One of his ears twitched, but apart from that, he remained motionless. There must have been a good bit of lotus in the food--it seemed Strongsteed was right about that, too.

Chief wondered when he’d been fed. Had his captors noticed where he had cut himself free? Chief glanced down at his hooves. Nope. The ropes were still there, but he had cut right through them. Excellent. Now, if he could just get him to pay attention for a second, he could--

“Chief?”

His head snapped around, hair on end, tensed until he realized the voice was Summer’s. She squirmed a bit, trying to sit up, and gave a dull groan as she looked herself over.

“What happened? I remember, she... she cut me, and then I was down, and she was... choking you? Something like that? Roads got tossed against the wall, he was out, I remember that. And then after that... nothing,” she said with a grimace.

“Didn’t miss much. She choked me out. Tossed us back here.”

Summer nodded slowly. She attempted to roll over, straining against the ropes, then gave a gasp of pain as she moved too far and broke one of her stitches. A look of panic flashed across her face as the gauze around the wound darkened with blood and she couldn’t move to stop it.

“Chief...”

“It’ll stop.”

“Chief... it hurts.”

There was a strange vulnerability in her voice that got his attention. He jerked against his ropes, moving a bit closer to her, and saw an unusual look on her face.

Fear.

Fear and helplessness. She was pale and shaking, quivering with nerves and blood loss.

“I’ve lost a lot Chief. I don’t feel so good.” Her quiet, worried undertones concerned him. This wasn’t like Summer at all.

“Willow! Aspen!” he called up through the bars.

A friendly voice called back to him. “Willow’s gone to bed. I’m still here, though! Wait, no. I’m Willow. It’s Aspen who’s gone to bed.”

He didn’t have time for this.

“I need the medikit and the knife. Summer’s popped a stitch.”

“Oh, Princess! Is she alright?! Should I come down and help again? I could go get Aspen!”

“No time. Just send down the kit and the knife.”

“I’m not supposed to send you the knife, you’re not allowed to take off your ropes. What if you--”

“She’s going to die.” Chief heard Summer draw a ragged gasp at that. He gave her a glance and saw that she was trying feebly to stop the bleeding, pressing down the gauze with a bound hoof.

“Well, we’re not supposed to let anypony die, either. I guess I could just help out, maybe just this once and then...” his voice faded as he walked away from the pit, muttering to himself.

A moment later, the stone dagger and the medical supplies fell to the floor between his hooves. Chief cut himself and Summer free, careful not to be too rough, lest he ruin more of the stitches. He lifted her deftly and carried her smoothly into the center of the pit, to where the light was better, and slipped the gauze away from the bleeding cut.

“How is it?” Summer asked, craning her neck to look at it.

Without a word, Chief forced her head gently back down. This wasn’t something she needed to see. From where he had been laying before, he hadn’t been able to tell how bad the lacerations were as he guided Willow and Aspen through the medical proceedings. Now, though, out in the light, the cuts were... worrisome.

The gash in question was deep, in some places even to the ribcage, and stretched halfway down the length of Summer’s side. It appeared the guards, even with Chief’s advice, had done a poor job stitching up the wound; her slight movements had torn half of them out, and blood now poured from the injury, spilling across Chief’s hooves.

He popped open the large kit, and grabbed a pair of thick gauze pads, a needle and thread, and a half-empty bottle of coagulant potion, which thankfully also doubled as a disinfectant. Summer gave a slight gasp of pain as he poured some of the coagulant across the bleeding, the potion trickling slowly into the wound, leaving trails of congealed blood. Running one of the gauze pads across the surface of the gash, he cleaned it as best he could, then began re-applying stitches.

After a moment, he was finished, and the bleeding had almost ceased as he covered the injury once again with a thick layer of bandages. He looked up from his work to see Summer staring at him, eyes wide and glassy, face white as a sheet, a pained look on her face.

“Done?” she asked through gritted teeth.

“Done.”

“Good.”

With his help, Summer got to her hooves, and tottered over to lean on the wall, still trembling slightly.

“We’ve gotta get outta here, Chief,” she said weakly, sitting down and resting her face in her hooves.

“We still have business to take care of,” he said firmly.

“Yeah? What?”

“Princess.”

“What about h--oh, no. Not a chance.” She looked up at him, a bit of blood rushing back into her face.

“I have to.”

“You won’t.” With a glance up at the bars where Willow stood, unseen, her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “We’re leaving here as soon as possible. As soon as Roads wakes up, we’ll climb out of the pit and make a break for the zeppelin, and then we’re getting the hell back to Equestria.”

“Leave me.”

“What, so you can end up like him?” With a jerk of a hoof, Summer gestured to Strongsteed. “I don’t think so. We’re leaving. All of us. Together.” A bit of tenor had crept back into her voice, an edge of command that covered her prior vulnerability.

“I need this.”

“You’re coming with us. That’s an order. You work for me on this, and I’m pulling rank. You’re under my command; it’s in your contract.”

Chief glared at her. She was technically correct, but he didn’t think she would have the nerve to bring that up. In the past, they had worked as equals, deferring to one another as each situation arose. If Summer was pulling rank, she was scared she might not survive. It was understandable, but he glared at her, all the same.

She met his eyes, and gazed back with an unwavering intensity. For a moment, they were both silent, each daring the other to look away first. As Chief stared into those cold green eyes, he realized how much Summer reminded him of her sister.

Honey Dew...

His eyes flickered to the ground. “Fine,” he muttered.

“Good,” Summer replied, pressing a hoof to her side.

Chief looked down at her, a grudging respect worming its way into his chest. As much as he hated taking her orders, there were few ponies in the world who would stand against him like that. It was why he preferred her company; her fearless treatment of him was both annoying and refreshing. It reminded him of how Honey had been...

Honey Dew...

No, no, no. He couldn’t think about her. Not now. There were more important things to deal with. Roads for instance. A loud groan from the edge of the pit announced his awakening.

“What... happened? Where am I?”

“We’re back in the pit, Roads,” Summer replied.

There was another groan. “Not this again. Mmff. Why does my head hurt?”

“Well--”

“Wait a minute... No, I remember!” He gasped as the memories suddenly rushed back to him. “Princess! She’s gonna kill us!”

“I know, I was there--”

“Summer, we’ve gotta get off the island. Out of the pit, back to the zeppelin, and away to Equestria.”

“Brilliant. Is that all we have to do? And here I was thinking we were doing to have to burrow our way to Equestria. Gee, what a plan,” she said.

“Yeah, it’s fantastic. We just have to get out of these ropes.”

“Speak for yourself. Chief and I are already out.”

“Really?” Roads wriggled out into the lit portion of the pit, where he could see them. “Fantastic. Cut me loose and let’s get out of here!”

Chief pulled him into the shadows near the walls--in case Willow happened to glance down at them--and sliced through his bonds.

“It’s not quite that simple, Roads,” Summer said.

“Sure it is. I can fly again, I can feel it. I can just lift you two out, and we can be on our way.”

“And the island full of natives who want to kill us?”

“Oh. Well... I hadn’t thought about them.”

“Shouldn’t be that bad, actually,” Chief chimed in. “Most of the natives haven’t been trained. Won’t bother us. Only have to look out for the guards.”

“And there happen to be several hundred of them. And only three of us--and despite Roads’ rapid recovery, I still can’t cast any magic. And in this state...” She shifted, rolling over onto her side and readjusting the bandages. “Well, I can barely even run.”

“The woods are safe. Just gotta make it there. The paths up the cliffs are thin enough to slow down most of the guards. We’ll only have to deal with a few at a time.”

Summer nodded, thinking it over. “Alright, but I’m not going to be able to move very quickly. Chief, you might have to carry me some of the way. When do we leave?”

“We should go now,” Roads said, gesturing up to the night sky that shone through the bars at the top of the pit. “While it still night. They might not even see us.”

Chief nodded in agreement.

“Okay. Great. Let’s get moving, then. Roads, you’ll have to fly up, and see if you can’t move the bamboo at the top. Take out Willow with the knife, and then you can--”

“Wait, what?”

“You’re going to have to kill Willow so that we--”

“I’m not going to kill somepony! Are you insane?!” he hissed. They wanted him to stab the guard? That was not happening. If they were willing to resort to something like that, were Summer and Chief even any better than the islanders? Any better than Princess?

Summer sighed. “Look, it’s the only way to--”

“No! Not a chance.”

“Roads, if you can’t do this, they are going to kill us.”

“I don’t care. I can’t kill somepony! Especially not Willow!” he objected.

Summer sighed, pressing a hoof to her face. “Fine. Just... talk to him, then, or something. See if he’ll let us go. If he won’t, subdue him.”

“‘Subdue him’? How am I supposed to do that?” Roads asked. This was ridiculous! He wasn’t prepared for this! All this talk of murder, of subduction and violence... how could they even think he was capable of that kind of thing?

“Shouldn’t be hard,” Strongsteed muttered. Roads turned and stared at him; he had been in a silent stupor for so long, the pegasus had almost forgotten he was even there.

“What? What are you talking about?” he asked, confused.

“Willow’s not even a real guard. He just tags around Aspen all the time; he never got trained. He followed Aspen around on his guard duties for so long that everypony--even Princess--forgot he was never supposed to be there. Well, except me. And Aspen,” Strongsteed said.

“Great. Well, then, he knows about as much as I do about fighting. Which is to say, nothing at all.”

Chief walked up to Roads, bringing the medikit with him.

“Watch this,” he said, digging through the kit until he pulled out a flask of coagulant. He held it out, showing it to Roads. “Eye on this. It’s interesting.” He tossed the it into the air. Roads eyes followed it, up... up... higher, and higher, the silver rim of the flask twisting and glinting in the light and--

Chief hit him across the face, his hoof catching just under Roads’ eye. He crashed to the ground, clutching his face. Chief hadn’t hit him hard, but it was enough to hurt.

“What the hay was that?! What’d you do that for?!” he cried.

“Distraction. Anypony can do it. Give him an excuse to look away and hit him when he does.”

“And after that?”

“Toss him in the pit. We’ll take care of him.”

“I dunno...” Roads said doubtfully. “I mean, it’s Willow. The one native who’s actually treated us well, and you want me to attack him? That just doesn’t seem right.”

“Do you want to die?” Summer asked flatly.

“...no.”

“Go take care of Willow before somepony who can defend himself takes his place.”

“I just... I don’t know about this...”

Chief picked the flask up off the ground and offered it to him. “Do it. Don’t even think about it.”

Roads turned and saw Strongsteed staring at him--or in his general direction, at least. The other pony shrugged. “Do whatever you have to,” he said.

The pegasus looked back up at Chief, then down to the flask. He stared into his reflection in the glass for a brief, pensive moment. A bedraggled, bruised pony, face half caked in blood, stared grimly back at him, eyes sunken under a shock of matted mane. His mouth tightened. Could he do this? Roads took the flask.

He would have to.

He glanced up at the bars, through which the dim light of a torch flickered, disappearing every now and again as Willow marched past. He shook his head, mouth twisting into a hopeless smirk. He nearly laughed.

This was ridiculous. He, Roads, the ‘soft, library pony’ from Everfree, about to go attack somepony. Had somepony told him a month ago he would be doing this, he would have laughed in their face. It was like some stupid, terrible joke.

For a moment, he felt far away, outside his own body, as though he were looking down at the whole situation from some distant tower. He gave a sad sigh at the image of himself, far away, in the bottom of a pit. Truly, truly ridiculous.

Suddenly, he seemed to rush back into his own head. He looked from Summer to Chief, gave a quick nod, and flew up to the bars at the top of the pit. Upon looking around the edges, he found that they were little more than thick lengths of bamboo, half embedded in the ground. This prison clearly wasn’t meant for a pegasus, he thought as he pried each away and tossed it aside. Within a few seconds, he was out, standing at the edge of the cliff.

Face to face with Willow. The other pony gave him a confused frown. “Roads? What are you doing up here? You’re supposed to be down in the pit.” He looked around, a look of fear flashing across his face. “You’d better get back there, before somepony sees. They might think you were trying to escape. Do you have any idea how much trouble I would get in if Princess found out about this?”

“Uhh...”

“Geez, Roads, come on, hurry up! I mean, I don’t wanna be pushy or anything but you’re really not supposed to be up here.”

Roads felt waves of guilt crashing over him. Willow was an idiot. A tiny, scrawny, untrained, unkempt idiot who only wanted what was best for everypony involved. And here he was, trying to muster up the courage to hurt him. For a second, he thought he might be sick. Willow must have noticed.

“Are you okay? You look pale.”

“Umm--”

“Sweet Princess! Are you sick? Oh, I think you’re coming down with something.”

“No, no, uh, I--”

“Is that why you’re out of the pit?” Willow’s face flushed red and his brow furrowed over a quivering frown. “Oh, Roads, I didn’t realize! I’m so, so sorry I was upset with you a second ago. You’re ill, of course you came up to see if I could help. Come on, sit down, and I’ll call somepony to bring you some water.”

“No, don’t do that!” Roads’ heart quickened. Willow had no idea what was going on, but if Aspen saw him up here... He shuddered to think what might happen. He might get dragged before Princess, and end up blinded like Strongsteed for trying to escape.

Willow turned away from him. “Aspen!” he bellowed. “Asp--ow!” He flinched stumbled away in pain, clutching his face where Roads had hit him. He tripped over a rock and flopped to the ground with a whimper.

“That hurt!” he cried, looking up at Roads. “What’d you do that for?”

“I’m sorry, Willow, I--”

“I thought we were friends...”

Willow looked as though he were about to cry. Roads’ heart froze in his chest. How could he have done this? How could he let Summer and Chief talk him into doing something like that to somepony. And to this pony, out of anypony.

“I just wanted to make you feel better. I wanted everypony to be happy...”

“Willow, I just, I had to--”

“Well, fine,” he spat, trying to muster up anger between tears. “Fine, maybe you don’t want my help. You--you’re such a--you’re just mean! Plain mean!”

Roads nearly began to cry with him. He sat down on the ground, cradling his head in his hooves.

“Well, I’ll tell you one thing, that’s what I get for trying to be nice. Punched. Well, don’t think you’re going to stop me from being kind--I’ll never end up like you. Going around, punching ponies. I mean, Chief, I can understand, he was upset, and we were trying to take him back to the pit, even though he didn’t want to go--which wasn’t nice, but we had to do our jobs--but you, you just came out of nowhere and--”

“Willow?!” Roads ears perked up as he heard Aspen call out from nearby. “Willow, what’s going on?”

Roads’ pity was replaced by a nerve-rending terror as he heard hoofsteps growing steadily closer. Willow got up and dashed off into the dark, off to meet Aspen. Roads scurried over to the edge of the pit.

“What happened?” Summer asked. “We heard you talking to somepony but we couldn’t tell what was going on. Did you take care of Willow?”

“Not really.”

Summer groaned. “Roads, I told you to--”

“Look, we don’t have time to talk about this! We’ve gotta get out of here!”

Summer nodded, and moved to the center of the pit. “Alright. Let’s go. Can you carry me up?”

Roads nodded. “I’ll try.”

He hopped down into the pit, gliding gently to the ground, and helped Summer drape herself across his back. He gave a small groan as her weight bore down on him. She weighed only slightly less than he did...but then, he didn’t have to carry her any more than five meters.

He beat his wings mightily, kicking off as hard as he could. His initial burst carried him halfway to the top of the pit, and with another few, desperate flaps he managed to secure a hoofhold at the top of the pit. He pulled himself up, straining against their combined weight, rolling over to dump Summer unceremoniously to the ground. She let out a loud groan, pressing her hoof to her side.

“Sorry.” Roads turned and peered into the pit, glancing down at Chief. “How do we get you out of there?” he asked.

“Easy.” Chief grunted. He turned to Strongsteed. “Alright,” he said, nudging him. “Help me up.”

The other pony fumbled blindly across the pit, making his way to the portion of the wall directly beneath Roads. He reared onto his hind legs, bracing against it, locking his forehooves together just below his chest. Chief walked over to him, reared as well, and stepped onto Strongsteed’s forelegs.

“Roads...” Summer called from somewhere behind them.

“Just a second.”

With a grunt, Strongsteed hoisted Chief into the air. He raised a forehoof to Roads, who took it and, digging his rear hooves into the ground, dragged him up out of the pit. Before moving from the edge of the pit, Roads offered his hoof to Strongsteed.

“Climb on up,” he said.

“What?”

“We’re leaving, let’s go.”

“I think not! I’m staying here. This is my home,” Strongsteed said, brimming with conviction.

“Are you crazy? Come with--”

“Roads!” Summer interrupted.

“What?” Roads turned around.

He found himself face to face with a small army of islanders. Aspen stood in front of them, next to him a sobbing Willow. The bigger pony’s face was flushed, he was nearly trembling with rage. The look on his face sent waves of fear crashing through Roads’ chest. Aspen had seemed so calm and casual before; his anger was a terrifying deviation. The guard leveled his spear at Roads.

“What did you do?!” he demanded.

“I--I, er, I h-had, uh--” Roads found himself unable to speak, barely capable of stammering out a few unintelligible syllables.

“What did you do?!” Aspen roared, his booming voice echoing from the walls of the canyon. After the sound faded, a pregnant silence settled over them. Finally, Summer took a pained step forwards and broke it.

“Only what I told him to.”

There was another pause, as Aspen and his comrades took a menacing step forward.

“And what were you trying to do?”

Summer looked him in the eye, gave a quick wink, and said, “Escape.”

With that, she pivoted and hopped onto Chief’s back just as all hell broke loose.

Roads twisted around and saw Chief dash away, carrying Summer. He heard shouting for him to follow--glimpsed the islanders charging him. Before he could gather his wits, he was running--sprinting along behind Chief--the sounds of hoofsteps heavy behind him. Charging over a rickety bridge--slipping through mud and crops--keeping his eyes fixed firmly on the blue and brown figures before him.

If he lost sight of them he was dead.

A ringing in his ears--his mouth dry and parched--legs tired, pumping away, desperate to keep up. Gotta keep up with Chief. Gotta keep up. Keep up. Keep going. Faster, run faster. Where are they? Where did they go?! His head twisting around--a desperate search--the guards fanning out behind him, trying to trap him. Encircling. Ensnaring.

Faster, faster.

The taste of blood in his mouth and the stench of sweat in his nose--firelight casting dancing shadows all around him, one a guard, one Chief, one his father. Dad.

“Keep going. Fast, like I taught you.”

Stumbling--pitching face-first into the mud. Cool, cold, protective.

“Get back on your hooves. I didn’t say you could stop yet.”

No, he wanted to stay there... wanted to stay there forever... He was so tired...

A hoof jerked him from the ground--Chief, staring into his dirt-caked face. Chief, saying something--it echoes in his ears but he can’t hear it. Gotta keep up. Chief sprinting off, Roads following. Up, onto a terrace--Chief, shoving away a guard, kicking him off the edge--up, to the woods.

Up, up, up. Faster, faster. He wanted to fly but he couldn’t leave Chief and Summer behind again. He swore. Never again. He stayed on the ground.

Hoofsteps--closer now--he twisted his head. The face of a guard--a spear, flashing through the air--a pain in his side, a long scrape. Nothing serious. He hoped. Keep going. On even ground, now--heading into the woods. Running faster than Chief--he passed him--shouts behind him, a cry for help, ringing in his ears. A mare’s voice.

No use. Gotta keep going. Charging through the woods--weaving through the trees.

Suddenly, no hoofsteps behind him. Roads slowed down--peered around. Nopony. He kept running, but more slowly now. Nopony was chasing him, the guards had all been left behind. He breathed a sigh of relief, his racing heart beginning to slow. He was safe, now; he’d left the guards behind.

And Summer and Chief.

No, no, no, no! Not this again. Oh, please Celestia not this again! How could he let this happen?! How could he be so stupid?!

Kicking off the ground, he soared into the air, heading for the other side of the island. Now that he had left Chief and Summer he didn’t see any reason not to. As he soared through the night sky, he glanced over his shoulder to see lines of glowing dots just beside the river, fires where his friends were being held prisoner. Where they were waiting to be executed.

Where he had left them to die.

Idiot! He thought. Coward! Fuck-up! He had done it again. He had sworn he wouldn’t do it again. The evening winds cut across his face as he flew, a burning building in his wings, a fire roaring in his chest. The heated rage spilled across his mind, his muscles tensed, his teeth clenched.

As soon as he was far enough away from the city, he dove, landing hard in grove filled with towering hardwoods. Pain from the impact seared through his hooves but he ignored it.

No. He shouldn’t ignore it. He deserved it.

Dad was always right about me. I’m worthless. Trash. Good-for-nothing, just like Chief said. Chief... How could you leave them?! How could you?! They were your friends. All of your life, you wanted friends, and then you get them, and what do you do? Leave them at the mercy of an insane dictator. Leave them to be murdered.

Stupid, stupid, stupid! She called for you. Right before you lost them, she called for you.

You never looked back.

His anger seethed and frothed, his muscles jerked, he drove his hoof into the ground. Idiot! And again. Foal!

He turned, backed against a tree, and bucked it, driving his rear legs hard into the wood. A howl filled the air, feral, echoing with rage and pain across the grove.

I hate you! he said to himself. He kicked the tree again, relishing the shock of pain that arced up his legs.

I hate you!

Another kick.

I hate you!

And another.

I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you...

He drove his hooves into the tree again and again, animalistic growls and grunts filling the air, intermingling with the sound of shattering wood as the bark rent and broke. His cracked hooves smeared the pulverized bark with blood, but still he kicked.

I hate you I hate you I hate...

Everything.

Something in his chest cracked.

Princess...

The kicks were more forceful now, boring into the wood.

Strongsteed, the Guards...

They kept coming, splintering the very heart of the tree.

The island, the bullies in school, the Everfree, being alone, being forced to fly...

He could hear something, a faint whisper in his ear.

My father...

He stopped, exhausted, legs pained, chest burning, hooves bloodied. He sat back against the tree and, with a dull crack, the trunk gave way, a few muffled creaks emanating from the broken wood. With a loud crash, the tree fell to the ground. Roads stood and turned around to see somepony sitting on the stump.

No, not just somepony.

His father.

Author's Note:

Thanks for reading! I’d like to very quickly recognize the efforts of my editor, Secondaryspine, without whom this fic would be illegible. I would also like to offer my deepest condolences for his being trapped in a personal hell: editing sober.

Comments

[Truth_Seeker]

Yay update! It just keeps getting better and better... Keep it up!

[Glassed]

Suddenly we're getting updates quicker than usual... not that I'm complaining, I love this stuff! dl.dropbox.com/u/31471793/FiMFiction/emoticons/misc_rainbowkiss_flip.png
-Glassed

[secondaryspine]

889062
Now that I'm caught up with editing, Rosen should be able to do about a chapter a week.
Sorry about leaving you with the cliffhanger for so long! I'm lazy.

[Glassed]

889248 As a fan of this story, I can live with it
-Glassed

[websterhamster]

I must say, I rather expected Roads to come across his father in this story eventually. I'm actually a little surprised it wasn't sooner.