Where Loyalties Lie: Ghosts of the Past

by LoyalLiar

XXV - Memento Mori

XXV

Memento Mori

Rainbow awoke to the crunching pain of her own shoulder bashing against the dirt, though she didn’t recall having fallen asleep there. She blinked, and dust fell from her eyelashes. The indistinct blur of the sky was painted the colors of rust and water, blending together in a majestic amethyst that dominated the horizon. Set against it, the silhouettes of two ponies stood nearby, with the larger looming over some fallen figure.

You’re awake? Thank Mobius. I was worried I’d be stuck in here forever. Trust Coil’s magic to switch control without warning. Though Typhoon seemed to be forcing a hint of sarcasm into her ethereal voice, Rainbow was also certain she heard more than a hint of fear.

“Wait… you’re back in my head.” Rainbow couldn’t help but grin. “I’m me again.” The words might have come out as a shout, if her throat hadn’t felt so parched and coarse. Instead, the rasp she released was muted, and did not reach the ears of her friends.

“Don’t move, boar.” Soldier On held a blade-shod hoof to Enka’s throat calmly. “Why were you carrying Rainbow Dash?” Though Enka was bigger than an average pony mare, Soldier On still loomed over her, big enough that she seemed to belong more among the distant mesas cutting into the horizon than the little gathering.

“The other pony wanted me to get her away from Khagan!” The stress in Enka’s words could not have been missed. “He stayed to buy us time—”

“He’s fighting the Warchief?” Dead Reckoning stepped forward. It took Rainbow a moment to recognize the familiar stallion, with his slitted yellow eye, his prominent fang, and his leathery wing. Still, three parallel scars he wore were unmistakeable, even on a face that seemed decades too young. “But Rainbow has his armor—”

On cut in before her companion could finish his thought. “How long ago did you last see him?”

You may need to help Enka, Rainbow.

“An hour, maybe a little more. From what you said…”

In attempting to stand, Rainbow’s shuddering motion gathered the attention first of Soldier On, and then of her other companions. When her shaky hooves found stability, and her throbbing headache settled enough to let her see, she saw Deadeye, Soldier On, and Enka all staring at her in total silence.

“…you two alright? You look like you saw a ghost.”

I can’t believe you actually said that out loud. Are you sure you aren’t descended from Gale?

Dead Reckoning demonstrated the newfound speed and power of his thestral body when he lunged at Rainbow, wrapping her tightly in a hug with his mismatched wings and his forelegs. Where the plates of Hurricane’s armor left a gap at the base of her neck, his coat felt dusty and coarse, but the pressure nevertheless gave her a comfort she only then realized she had forgotten in the halls and shadows of Balgas Rift.

“You’re alive…” he whispered in her ear.

“Yeah,” Rainbow whispered back. “I made it.”

In the following moments, the sun was blotted out and an enormous weight settled on Rainbow’s neck, forcing her down onto Deadeye’s shoulder. As she craned her neck in an attempt to breathe, her thestral companion chuckled to himself. “On, I know you’re not supposed to say this to a mare, but you’re really heavy.”

Soldier On leaned back from her own hug and sat on her haunches in the dirt of Suida. “Typical pegasi. Can’t handle a real hug. I’m glad you’re okay, Rainbow.”

Rainbow didn’t think her smile could grow much wider. “It’s good to see you too, On. I hope you didn’t scare Enka too much; she’s on our side.”

“I’m fine,” the sow answered, though she still gave Soldier On a wide berth. “I’m glad we have found your friends, and I do not mean to cut your reunions short, but if we are going to escape Khagan, we ought to flee. I doubt your father bought us much time.”

Soldier On cast her gaze to the south. “You left Balgas Rift an hour ago? It doesn’t look like you were followed. We’d have seen at least dust on the horizon by now.”

When Rainbow disentangled herself from Reckoning’s wings and followed On’s gaze, she saw the truth. Under the golden brim of Hurricane’s helmet, the red stone desert stretched on into a hazy horizon miles away, unblemished by the shapes of boars, or any life whatsoever save dusty shrubbery.

Something’s wrong, Rainbow. Don’t get idealistic. Just because there’s no one following you—

“He’s still alive,” Reckoning said, not speaking to anyone in particular. Mismatched wings spread, before Soldier On’s hoof caught his shoulder.

“Deadeye, listen to yourself.” On pulled the thestral back, spinning him to face her. “You can’t seriously be thinking of flying in there. He’s fighting Khagan.”

“He survived Nightmare Moon,” Reckoning replied, glaring up at the earth pony.

“With his armor,” On countered, very nearly kicking Rainbow with a wild gesture in her direction. “And even then he nearly lost his leg. They’ll have ripped off his wings, too. What chance does he really have?”

“He’s the best soldier we’ve ever had!”

“He’s not immortal!” And then, panting from the shouting, she leaned forward and thrust a hoof against the stained and dusted shirt he still wore. “And you aren’t either, undead or not. Equestria will have to survive without him.”

Deadeye’s forelegs shuddered with barely constrained rage, and his thestral wing began to visibly steam. “I don’t care about Equestria. Not anymore. The Commander saved my life, and I owe him the same.”

“We’re soldiers, Deadeye. You don’t owe him your soul because he saved you from some griffon.”

Rainbow finally found a moment’s pause to speak, though she hesitated as she stepped up to the shouting soldiers. “Deadeye… I get that you feel like you owe him, but… do you know what happens if you die like this?”

Deadeye nodded solemnly. “The Commander told us—after the Summer Sun Celebration that year—though a lot of the magic talk goes over my head. I don’t get to go to the Summer Lands. But that doesn’t matter.”

Soldier On beat a hoof against her brow. “What about your family, Deadeye? Your friends? Your old—”

“I know!” Reckoning shouted back. “Look, I don’t have time to argue this with you, and neither does he. Rainbow can tell you why I need to go to him; she had this argument with me enough times in Zebrica. Now it’s my turn. I can’t leave my friend behind.” With those harsh words, Dead Reckoning spread his wings, leapt, and took off into the sky.

What did he mean?

Rainbow looked over to Soldier On. “We have to go after him.”

“No we don’t. Rainbow—”

“What he said there at the end—”

On smashed a hoof into the stone beneath her, sending cracks out. “For once in your life, listen to reason. Even if we accept that the Commander is still somehow alive after an hour in single combat with an immortal giant boar, the two of us would only get in the way. Boars don’t fly, so the only chance we really have left is that Deadeye can swoop down out of the sky, grab the Commander, and get out without being hit by any magic. If you throw yourself into danger blindly, even if it’s for your friends, you’re only going to get yourself killed.”

Listen to her, Rainbow. She’s right, about the strategy and about you getting hurt.

“I can’t.”

“Can’t what?” Enka asked.

Rainbow, they can hear you.

“I know, Typhoon.” Rainbow looked up at Enka, and then at Soldier On, who both stared at her with confusion and concern written across their faces. “I don’t leave friends behind when they’re in danger. You were right, in Ponyville. I don’t care about my dad. But Deadeye is my friend. And I know exactly what happens if he dies. Because I died saving Luna from Masquerade.”

Enka’s mouth hung open without speaking. Soldier On reacted only by the motion of her nostrils flaring to draw in a punctuated breath.

“I’ve been to the Between. I saw what happens to thestrals who die away from Luna. And there’s no way in Tartarus I’m letting that happen to Deadeye.”

“And what happens if you die?” On asked.

Rainbow matched the huge mare’s green-eyed gaze. “Better than living with myself if he got killed. He’s my friend, On.”

“Hold on,” said Enka, stepping forward. “What did you mean about being dead? And who’s Typhoon? What was all that about?”

“We don’t have time to explain.” Soldier On nodded to Rainbow. “For the record, you’re still wrong. And you owe me for this.”

With those blunt words, On picked up Rainbow, slung the diminutive pegasus over her neck like a scarf, and broke into a run that would put a locomotive to shame.

Looking down from over the brim of a wispy cloud that barely held his weight, Dead Reckoning shuddered at the sight of Balgas Rift. Between the dusty red walls of the surprisingly narrow canyon, dozens—if not hundreds—of boars had gathered around Khagan. It was the first time the soldier had seen the warchief, and the rumors about his staggering size were true: from above, he more closely resembled a decently sized cottage than any living creature, with huge boxy shoulders that kept his legs tucked in beneath his bulk and a broad, squat muzzle that joined with his torso without any meaningful neck to speak of.

Sitting on the ground in front of Khagan and his mass of boars was a blue-black blotch, tinged with hints of silver and gold. The Commander looked familiar enough, though a normal pony’s vision wasn’t enough to gain more detail.

Fortunately for Deadeye, a better view came as easily as closing his more natural eye and devoting his focus to the slitted orb he’d only just gained. The picture it gave was sharper, fuller, and more detailed, at the cost of the sharpest reds of the canyon walls and the deepest blacks of the shadows they concealed.

For just a moment, Reckoning reflected that being a thestral was weird.

The Commander lay hunched over, crumpled and shuddering with thick vines wrapped tightly around his flesh. From the stumps where his wings ought to have extended Deadeye saw golden flowers and trunks of the plants surrounding his leader. He’d heard the stories of the gilded lotus. If the plant was this developed already, the roots would have already found his heart, his lungs, his bones—extracting them would take magic even a thestral didn’t have.

That left one option, supposing the Commander would survive long enough to reach Canterlot.

“Too many tusks…” he whispered to himself. “But at least they don’t have wings.”

Flapping his wings gently to direct the cloud beneath him without revealing himself, Deadeye put the thick walls of the canyon between himself and the eyes of the boar army below. Only then did he kick off and flare his wings.

Clouds were sparse in the skies over Suida, and the long gaps flying between them left the thestral with a sinking feeling in the cold void of his gut, and far too much time to think. To remember.

“Do you understand what I’m asking of you?” the Commander had asked that chilly December day in Canterlot. Despite the snow falling outside, the Private’s Reserve was nearly an oven, lit by a massive fireplace that crackled and cast flashes across the harsh face of the pony whose age Deadeye could only guess. “This won’t be easy for you.”

Reckoning looked down into the mug of seltzer water and virgin apple juice, and then to the makeshift coaster beneath it. They had said Psychiatric Discharge earlier, though the ‘rge’ was all that could be made out, the rest stained into oblivion by the sweat on the outside of his drink. “I want to do the job, ‘Commander’. But why offer it to me? You know who I am, don’t you? You read the papers—”

“Warrant Officer Dead Reckoning. ‘Deadeye’. The griffons call you ‘die Kreuzotter’.”

“That was before I went mad.”

“Does that change who you are?” The Commander gestured to Reckoning’s flank with a blue-gray wing, its crest glimmering with sharpened scales. “Would it surprise you to learn that you’ve led more successful wartime operations on enemy territory than any other pony alive today?”

Reckoning’s good eye flinched. “That was a long time ago. Fifteen years in that damn gray suit—”

“I’m not going to waste my breath trying to convince you if you don’t want the job,” the Commander interrupted harshly. “I’m offering you a place on the Honor Guard because I feel a soldier deserves more than dying alone in a retirement home, watching his mane fall out and eating grits three times a day, regretting his life. If you want to give up on your destiny, that’s your decision. I can’t heal your mind, Reckoning, but I can teach you to control it. If you decide you want to live up to your mark, you can find me.”

When he’d gathered three clouds, Reckoning balled the wispy white bits up and punched them with his hoof. Each strike he filled with his empatha, and slowly, darkness began to build up. The thunderhead was never going to be military grade; any of the boars could shake off the shock without much more than a sore spot and a burn to show for the trouble. But that wasn’t the point.

The Commander dragged Deadeye out of the immaculate Canterlot throne room through a side door, tugging on the smaller and lankier pegasus’ neck with a foreleg even as his teeth clamped tightly around Procellarum. As the door swung shut, the aging scout caught a glimpse of the griffon ambassador rubbing his talons across the fur of his neck, even as Celestia moved down from her throne to offer him condolences. Only a few loose hairs in the middle of the marble floor testified to how close Reckoning had come to starting a war.

When the door swung shut, the Commander slammed Reckoning into a marble pillar, putting an ache in his back, and a far bigger bruise on his pride. To the older stallion’s confusion, his leader then sheathed his sword.

“You’re not going to do it?” Deadeye shouted, at which point the Commander pressed down on his neck. Only when most of the fight and the air had left Deadeye was the pressure released. Panting, and wheezing in a far softer voice, the scout continued. “I nearly caused a war!”

“You want to die?” the Commander asked. “I won’t stop you.”

Reckoning smashed a hoof into an immaculate marble pillar lining the palace hallway. With a crack of thunder, priceless stone became pebbles and dust. “You told me yourself the spell won’t take again! So that’s it. That’s might as well be my life. I can’t protect Celestia if I’m going to have the flashbacks again!”

The Commander responded slowly, pulling Hurricane’s helmet off his head and setting it down on the floor. “No, Deadeye. We can’t have you in Canterlot anymore, but that doesn’t mean you can’t still serve.”

The graying green stallion’s brow rose. “What are you saying?”

Frowning, the Commander’s blotched brown eyes looked away. “It won’t be an easy price. You’ll be alone for months, maybe years. No poker, no cushy missions to Neighples, no evenings in Cloudsdale. As far as the rest of Equestria is concerned, whatever you choose, you were just discharged from your service as a guardspony.”

Reckoning drew in a slow breath, though his lungs were less patient than the Commander. “...but?”

“I need somepony in place near Grivridge. Somepony who can survive in the jungle. Keep an eye on Magnus. And if the need arises, assassinate him.”

“I’m not a spy,” Reckoning protested. “Get somepony from the E.I.S. or—”

“If somepony from Intelligence gets caught hiding in the Zebrican jungle, spying on Grivridge, how do we deny it?” Walking away from his helmet, the Commander cast his gaze on one of the elaborate stained glass windows lining the hall. “Once a month, I’ll send Marathon to rendezvous with you and provide you with some basic medical supplies. The rest—food, shelter, armaments—you’ll have to provide for yourself. If you do have one of your flashbacks, and the griffons apprehend you, Equestria will tell the griffons the truth: you’re a mentally unstable veteran who believes there’s still a war going on from forty years ago.” Only when his brutal explanation had finished did the scarred stallion turn back to face his subordinate. “I know the choice I’m offering you is hard. Unfair. I wish that I could offer you something more—”

“I’ll do it.” The Commander’s eyes widened slightly, and Reckoning continued. “You were right, when you recruited me. I’m still a soldier. I’d rather be out there than lose what’s left of my mind trying to live like a civilian.”

The thunderhead sparked between his hooves as Reckoning flew toward the mouth of the canyon. His hooves met the red stone, just far enough from the edge to keep himself out of sight of whatever sentries might have been watching below. Sure that no boars could see him, the thestral reared up and bucked the thundercloud.

Though the lightning bolt was barely visible, the crack of thunder left a ringing in Reckoning’s ears. Nearly twenty seconds later, when the noise settled, it was replaced by the unmistakable noise of an avalanche of hooves rushing through the canyon below.

“Well, that was easy,” Deadeye muttered to himself, before spreading his disparate wings again and soaring up to his remaining cloud overhead. Below, boars rushed like a river toward the mid-day lightning. Khagan himself was nowhere to be seen, however, and a chill settled in Reckoning’s stomach. With a shake of his head, he shed the feeling and once more committed to his plan.

The flight back toward the Commander was incredibly short, and yet by far the longest in Reckoning’s death. Every flap felt his throat grow tighter in hopes that there was still something he could do, somehow, to help the stallion that saved his life. Memories flashed through his mind, too quickly to even honor, as the red stone sailed by below. And then, all at once, he was there. A glance downward saw no sign of boars, massive or mortal. Only the Commander, lying alone. Rolling off the back of his cloud, the thestral kept his wings tight against his sides and fell like a stone. A mere thirty feet above the ground, he flared them out, catching the wind and suspending his fall. The force would have broken most mortal wings, but undeath was not without its advantages. Three seconds of gliding carried Deadeye to land within leg’s reach of the Commander. At his hooves, Procellarum had been thrust into the dirt.

The first thing out of the gray stallion’s mouth was a gasping moan. “...Reckoning?”

“Dead and kicking,” the scout answered, forcing himself to grin out of the fangless side of his mouth. “Come on. We’ve got to get you out of here. Celestia can help you.” Reckoning’s green hoof reached for the Commander, only to pause when the red rock of the ground rose up from beneath him, pinning the soldier’s legs firmly to the Suidan earth.

“He will not be going anywhere, corpse.”

Reckoning turned slowly, watching as the walls of the canyon were torn apart to reveal a mammoth cavern, playing host to an equally mammoth boar. Khagan’s scarred visage was marred even further by the blood leaking from the blade of Rainbow’s sword, snapped off just above his skin but still buried in his neck. His right tusk scythed down, just the right height to easily disembowel a pony, while his left slowly but visibly regenerated a foot away from the rest of his teeth.

“And neither will you. Did you think I was stupid enough to accompany my entire force after your distraction?”

Reckoning’s muzzle wandered down to his wing, where his misshapen machete lay bound in cloth. Mongrel escaped its makeshift sheath without sound, leaving all the more focus for the thestral’s words. “A pony can dream, can’t he?”

“I do not have time to waste on your humor. I had been expecting the filly.” Khagan’s full tusk lit with hazy gray magic that only seemed solid in one of Reckoning’s eyes. The thestral lunged forward and to the side on nothing more than instincts, though they proved worthwhile when a beam of magic tore apart the space where he had been standing.

“Fly!” The Commander’s shout preceded another roll from Deadeye, and another of Khagan’s spells. When Reckoning found his hooves again, he leapt into the air, avoiding a third spell.

Roaring in fury, Khagan reared up onto his hind legs. Reckoning realized the boar’s enormous size when a tusk slammed into his side, crumpling his wing against his ribs and smashing him out of the sky. Pain overcame his vision as he bounced twice across the stone, and rolled over and over again until up and down became indistinguishable.

When Deadeye finally regained his senses, Khagan was charging toward him, tusk lowered. Digging into the dirt with both wings, the pony launched himself not up into the sky where he would be an easy target, but instead forward, just over the tip of Khagan’s tusk and onto his muzzle. Throwing as much empatha as he could into his hooves, Reckoning spread a layer of ice over Khagan’s eyes. With the warchief distracted, the soldier moved in for the kill.

“Jump!” the Commander shouted, but Reckoning barely had time to hear the word before Khagan moved beneath him. Leveraging an impossible body weight, the boar threw himself onto his back. The sudden lurch left Reckoning trapped, and in that moment of darkness, trapped between the boar’s coarse hair and Suidan stone, he felt the earth rise up and trap him.

“Your ‘Commander’ fought better, corpse.” Khagan’s words died in Reckoning’s ears, though his mind held on to them. Rolling over, the warchief rose onto his hooves and glared down his muzzle at the thestral. “You are of no more use to me.”

Khagan’s tusk lowered slowly, aiming for Deadeye’s heart. From the long winding path leading out of the canyon, a voice echoed against heavy stone walls.

“Get away from him!”

When the lightning cracked overhead, Soldier On’s hooves dug into the red dirt at the base of the canyon, sliding to a stop. “Damnit, Deadeye…”

“What was that?” Enka asked, tilting her eyes through the narrow opening between the canyon walls toward the blue, almost cloudless sky overhead.

Rainbow shrugged. “I think Deadeye packed a thunderhead.”

“It was a distraction,” On explained, looking between the rough stone of the canyon’s walls. “This place is a maze. Are we close?”

Enka’s didn’t need to answer; the rumbling of cloven hooves from further down the forked paths into Balgas Rift made the answer completely clear.

“Это пиздец!”

“What did you—”

“Don’t repeat that,” the mare growled. “Rainbow, you remember that fork in the path behind us?”

“...yeah. But what about you?”

“We can’t fight sixty boars, and I’ve got experience running away from a decent sized army. Enka, you’re with me; make sure I don’t run into a dead end. I’ll let them see me so I can lead them on a chase. You get to Deadeye as soon as possible, then have him carry you and your dad out of the canyon by wing. We’ll be fine as long as they don’t catch up.”

Rainbow looked up the canyon again; no boars had appeared, but the thundering of hooves was growing louder by the second. Following a single nod, she leapt off of On’s back, and charged backward down the canyon. The sound of closer hooves made it clear On and Enka were following, even before her longer-legged companions took the lead. In little more than twenty seconds, they reached a fork in the jagged path at the floor of the canyon.

“Back soon, On! En—” Before she could even finish the thought, the sheer cliffs cut off her view of her friends.

Typhoon wasted no time in speaking up. Rainbow, listen to me closely. Get further into the canyon so none of the boars see you. We’ve only got one shot at this. If you can get close enough to Khagan, I can try to freeze his skull in one go. That’s probably our best chance, but I need you to get in close to him without getting hurt.

“Got it. Shouldn’t be too hard with the armor, right?”

My father died in that armor. Don’t trust it too much. It doesn’t make you invincible. Especially not to something as big as Khagan.

Rainbow leaned up against the canyon a few dozen strides from the fork. From her hiding place, she watched as the bristly backs of the boars rushed past. Two, three, four dozen stampeded down the paths of Balgas Rift in search of the source of the thunder. At the head of the group, already out of Rainbow’s sight, one shouted up in Equiish. “Ponies!”

As the mass sped up, and the last of the boars disappeared from view, Typhoon began to count in Rainbow’s mind. Five, four, three, two, one. Go!

Balgas Rift passed in a blur. The little windows carved in the striped red walls and the dry, rocky canyon floor were barely noticed as Rainbow barreled at a full sprint into the heart of the boar fortress. When she rounded the final corner, her confidence disappeared into a sea of terror.

Khagan loomed over Deadeye, and the boar warchief slowly lowered a tusk toward her friend’s heart.

“Get away from him!” Rainbow shouted, continuing her desperate rush forward.

The warchief paused in his execution, and a smile broke across his face. “The prodigal daughter returns.” A burst of his magic flew toward Rainbow and was swallowed by Hurricane’s armor, which left the void crystals humming. Rainbow didn’t stop.

For a second spell, Khagan directed his magic at the dozen feet of space still separating him from Rainbow. The entire rift shook as the red stone literally eroded away. Rainbow’s hooves dug into the earth, but her momentum left her unable to avoid sliding into the pit. Ancient armor cushioned her shoulders and her flanks, but the tumble still rattled her.

From at least a dozen feet above, at the top of the pit, Khagan looked down on her. “Did you think your armor made you invulnerable?” The boar paced around the rim of the pit, and Rainbow watched him. “Disappointing. And futile. Your father has only hours to live, and it would take the magic of one of your princesses to save him.”

Be ready. If he comes down here, we can finish this.

Rainbow drew in a deep breath and glared back at the boar. “We could fly him to Canterlot before sunset.”

“I remember the lights you made in the sky before I took your wings. But had you forgotten your loss? Or were you hoping the corpse would save him?” Khagan turned back toward Deadeye, or perhaps the Commander; from her place in the pit, Rainbow couldn’t see. His voice dripped with joy and spite. “Since you both still live, I think I’ll let you enjoy her death first. I've given you far too many slow deaths to escape already, so we will finish this quickly. If it gives you any comfort, you can know that she will at least be buried—that is your custom, isn’t it?”

“Let her go!” Deadeye shouted. “Kill me, do whatever you want, but don’t—”

“Save your breath, Reckoning.” The Commander’s voice sounded hoarse and pained, even compared to the way he’d been when Rainbow had first met him in their shared cell. “Don’t give the boar the satisfaction.”

Khagan lowered his uneven tusks toward Rainbow. Wispy gray magic wove itself into the sheer walls of the pit that surrounded the pegasus, and stone began to crumble around her.

Needing to make a decision, Rainbow’s first move was to try and run up the crumbling wall. She leapt nearly her own height, and gained that distance again by digging her hooves into the wall, but the stone fell away beneath her before she could even touch the surface. Freedom slipped through her hooves like sand through an hourglass, and her back fell into loose earth that rose up around her.

“No!” was all she could manage before the earth covered her mouth, and sealed her into a dark pressure her legs couldn’t fight. Though she moved the earth, more fell into whatever space she cleared, and her struggles only trapped her deeper and deeper. Only when all sense of the open sky and the world above had been lost did the sound of Khagan’s magic and the dull grind of stone disappear from Rainbow’s ears.

Deadeye struggled against the stone pinning him to the ground as Rainbow disappeared from view. He didn’t bother with shouting or pleading; his focus was too fully on his magic. Empatha grew in his wings as he let his mind embrace darkness.

He’s won, Deadeye told himself. Rainbow is dead. He’ll kill me next. No Summer Lands again; just… darkness. His legs trembled. He felt the fear, and the power in it. Nothingness until I go mad. Turn into some kind of monster…

The fear took life. He felt the earth; stone reverberated around his wings like an extension of his own disparate flesh. It answered him. When he pushed, it moved.

His wings pulled free, and with a mighty push, his body followed suit. Even in that tiny motion, he could feel the drain. The cost of the magic left him exhausted in a way his empatha hadn’t in life, before his body lived off of mana. He hadn’t yet even confronted Khagan, and already he felt winded and sapped.

Still, he didn’t hesitate. Rainbow was buried. She needed him. With Khagan turned away, Reckoning saw his chance. Breaking into a sprint with a strength he still found foreign, the thestral brought his fangs to bear against Khagan’s hind right leg.

The taste of coppery blood filled Deadeye’s mouth as a gasp of pain surged out of the oversized boar. Reckoning knew well enough to release Khagan’s leg before the boar had a chance to buck him into oblivion, and he ducked out the way just in time to avoid a hoof more than capable of crushing a skull.

Khagan winked out of existence before Deadeye could land another bite, teleporting himself to the opposite side of the broken earth where Rainbow had been buried. “You should have flown while you had the chance, corpse.”

Deadeye spared no time on fancy magic; all he had left was some measure of speed. His hooves dug into the dirt and his wings slammed against his side, throwing the combined weight of his entire body into hurling himself like a fanged dart at Khagan’s face.

The boar didn’t flinch. With a casual twitch of his neck, the broad flat of his remaining tusk slammed into Deadeye’s rib. That he hadn’t been impaled on the long, jagged-tipped bone was a testament to the speed of his new body, though in the surge of immense pain racking through that body, Deadeye didn’t realize his good fortune. What little of his mind could focus beyond the wound that he imagined should have crushed his ribs he devoted to standing up.

The decision proved wise. With only a moment to spare, he rolled sideways as Khagan’s hoof fell toward his head. Though he dodged the blow, it served only to leave him in a corner against the cliff walls.

Khagan shook his head without so much as a grin for his obvious victory. Before Reckoning could find his bearings, the stone around him wrapped his body, sealing him up to his neck.

“Finally, this is over. I hope your kind do not all take so long to kill when the time comes for my conquest. But now, since your ‘Commander’ seems to value your life, I will end you first. Do not worry; as I promised, it won’t take long.”

Rainbow’s heart pounded in her throat.

She wasn’t sure if her eyes were open or shut. Stone pressed in on her sides, squeezing against her lungs even through her armor.

The snug feeling began to feel comfortable. Welcome. She curled up into the clouds around her and let her mind drift toward sleep.

No! Never again!

Typhoon’s defiant shout rang in Rainbow’s mind as the sun-cooked stone grew cold around her.

Fight, Rainbow!

Ice stretched from cyan hooves, stretching into the stone and pushing it aside. At first, movement came as barely more than a violent twitch. Rainbow’s ears couldn’t hear the stone break, but through the vibration in the ice, her bones heard just fine. That was it. Hope. Hope she could escape. Hope she could still save Deadeye. More importantly, the earth did not fall back down around her when she pushed. A web of ice held it back, letting her drag herself upward. Again and again she jerked, left hoof, right hoof, left hoof, right hoof; each motion earning more motion than its predecessor, buying her just a hint more of freedom. Her nostrils flared for nothing, and her lungs burned, but her body knew better than to give in. Thin air in the skies over Cloudsdale had made her too strong to give in so easily.

And then, with one last thrust of her hoof, she found open air.

Pulling herself out of an icy grave was an almost otherworldly experience. Loose stone and broken ice rolled off of Hurricane’s armor, glittering like stardust. Her lungs sucked in precious air. With the unmistakable rumble of his gargantuan hooves beating the ground, Khagan turned away from Deadeye and the Commander to look back at the mare he was certain he had killed. Her shoulders heaved, and it took what seemed like all the effort in the world to lift her head, and glare out from under the gold brim of her pitch black helmet and stare into Khagan’s eyes.

He’s scared.

Rainbow didn’t need to be told. She wasn’t sure how she knew, but she knew. Khagan’s face was locked halfway into a snarl, and his brow furrowed down in a show of hatred, but there was something in his eyes that Rainbow could just read.

“How…” the warchief growled, staring at the mare who had risen from the grave before his eyes. “Your magic wasn’t this strong before. How are you alive?”

“I don’t leave my friends behind.” Rainbow took two steps, not toward the looming boar, but Deadeye and her father. “Last chance. Let them go.”

Rainbow, bravado is all well and good, but that was all my empatha.

If Rainbow heard Typhoon’s protest, she gave no sign of it. She continued her slow walk toward the other ponies in the clearing, keeping her focus locked on Khagan.

What are you planning?

“You mistake surviving a single spell as being a threat to me. Do not presume for a second you are the equal of your father.”

“Good.” Rainbow continued her slow pace toward Procellarum.

“Good? I have crushed the greatest warrior of your species, and you admit you aren’t his equal; what hope do you have?”

“I’m not a ‘warrior’,” Rainbow told the boar, as her hooves came to rest beside Hurricane’s sword. “I didn’t have anything to do with the gilded lotus. I’m not here ‘cause of some story about wars or magic or whatever. I’m here because my friend needed help.” Her head bobbed toward Deadeye. “I don’t want to kill you, Khagan. Heck, I don’t want to hurt anybody.

“The whole time I was coming here, I kept fighting that. I kept saying that nopony had to get killed. That everything would work out, somehow. Deadeye and Soldier On and my dad all tried to warn me that wasn’t how the world worked. But I didn’t listen, until now. You proved them right, warchief.” The young mare spared a brief glance to her father and her friend, bound in stone and beaten into submission. “You proved to me that sometimes, there isn’t a better option. Sometimes, there isn’t another way. There’s only one way I can keep my friends safe. And I don’t leave my friends behind.” With those words, she tilted her head and wrapped her teeth around the handle of Procellarum.

The weapon was no less heavy than Rainbow remembered; she staggered to lift it steadily.

“You seek to kill me with a blade you cannot even lift?”

Rainbow, channel your empatha into it. Typhoon’s voice carried surprising steel, given that Rainbow could almost feel her desperation in the back of what was, momentarily, their shared mind. If you put your air into Father’s sword, it will help support the blade.

The blade seemed hungry for Rainbow’s maelstrom of emotions, and what it ate left behind a hollow void. The blade grew light, and the tug on her neck abated, letting her raise her eyes to once more meet Khagan’s gaze. He lowered his shoulders, bracing himself for battle.

She moved first. Hooves kicked up dirt, and she led with the sword.

Khagan’s tusk swept sideways across the ground, not aiming to impale her, but to take her hooves out from beneath her. Leaping, she leaned into the attack, letting the ivory pass narrowly beneath her shoulder. She landed hard on her armored side, but even the pain in the stumps of her wings couldn’t reach through the storm in her mind. Barely a second had passed before she was on her hooves again, inside the reach of Khagan’s tusks and swinging Procellarum wildly for his mouth, his throat, his eyes—whatever she happened to reach.

A few splashes of blood fell from the Warchief’s cheek before he reared up out of her reach. She tried to rush forward and reach his belly. The pain she felt when his cloven hoof slammed into her side told her the move was a mistake. She rolled twice from the sheer force, losing track of the sky and the earth.

Khagan moved with urgency that had been lacking from his earlier battles. Rainbow watched as the single point of the boar’s surviving tusk dug up a trench of red dirt, driving toward her.

Move!

She could see he was too close to roll aside or jump. Without even the time to think, she thrust her legs into the ground all at once, and felt the air around them ripple, heeding the call of her desperation.

Air and dust burst with the sound of a crack of thunder, and the armored stuntmare hurled herself up into the air in an impossible jump. Seven feet above the the ochre dirt, she drew Procellarum along Khagan’s back as he charged beneath her. The warchief staggered as ancient skysteel ripped through muscles and tendons. With an almost geologic rumble, he fell onto his chin and slid forward across the sand.

Did you…?

“Rainbow!” Deadeye shouted. “You… you did it!”

The Commander’s moan of pain seemed to mark a very different diagnosis of the situation; one which was echoed by the stirring of Khagan’s considerable mass. Across his back, wounds stitched themselves closed.

“Go, Rainbow!” the Commander managed to gasp out. “While he’s down.”

She only hesitated for a moment before breaking into a sprint. It took her barely more than the time to process the command to start running. She leapt up onto his back and galloped across the rough hair of his coat. Three strides. Two. One.

Procellarum slashed through empty air and a wispy wave of gray arcana. Khagan disappeared from beneath Rainbow, and her grip on her father’s sword faltered, leaving her swinging her legs wildly as the stone below rose up to meet her.

When she found her breath, she lunged for the sword. Khagan’s magic found it first, wrapping the blade in gray magic and hurling it down the length of the canyon.

“I tire of suffering cuts and nicks chasing you, little pony.” The giant boar turned toward the Commander, and then to Reckoning. From the corner of his lip, Rainbow could see his carnivorous teeth as he donned a smile. Gray magic billowed around his solid tusk, its point aimed straight at the center of Deadeye’s chest.

Gravity seemed to react slowly as Rainbow screamed. Reckoning slipped downward. His wings fluttered helplessly against the air, but his shattered side could not carry his weight. And so he continued downward.

The edge of the ridge first stole his hind legs from sight. The gray fur seemed more faded than ever before, as if he were nothing more than a frame from an old film. Grayscale. Blurry. Unable to move beyond a single pose. His tail went next, short and stubby and still filled with the brambles and dust of his adventurous life. Then his cutie mark, the sole remaining color on his weary coat. She had forgotten all about the map, and in watching it disappear, she felt a hope fade along with it.

She flapped her wings as he went further and further. Every beat took the greatest ounce of her energy. Her cage may have protected her body, but it was tearing apart her soul. In agony, she cried out again, though the winds stole her words.

His brown shirt, stained red with his own blood, was swallowed up by the void. The rough mane and the poorly-shaven roughness of his neck's coat passed next. And in a moment, all that was left was his smile, and his one smiling eye.

She felt the spark on her rear fetlocks. The familiar prick of raw power, the prickling of her coat heeding the will of unbridled electricity. Desperation. The agony of helplessness.

She wouldn’t let it happen again.

Rainbow’s forehooves pulled back to her side, bracing hard in the dusty red stone. Her hind legs rose from the ground, remembering lessons learned in long summer days working apple orchards. Lean muscle tensed throughout her body, throwing her whole weight into a single mighty buck thrust into empty, open air. She closed her eyes, letting her gut and her mind aim.

Her eyelids flashed red.

The canyon echoed with the harsh crack of thunder. It rumbled away, reverberating through red dirt and dense rock, until all was quiet.

The quiet held on too long, punctuated only lightly when Rainbow’s hooves returned to the dirt.

Then came the smack of flesh. The shuddering snap of tons of meat and bone smashing down onto the dirt.

Rainbow dared to open her eyes. Ahead, at the mouth of the canyon, Soldier On led a mass of boar soldiers to hear the source of the noise. The giant mare and the horde that had only moments before been her enemies stood side by side, staring in blank awe over Rainbow’s shoulder. Sprawled over On’s back, Enka lay bruised and bleeding but clearly still alive.

When Rainbow turned to follow the gazes of the small army of boars, she saw a sight too strange, too unreal to be believed. The smoking corpse of Warchief Khagan was barely recognizable. Enormous muscles withered and atrophied before her eyes. Flesh turned to worn leather in some places, and simply rotting away to ash in others. No gushing blood slipped from the wounds; instead, it seemed as if whatever liquid was to be found in the would-be immortal had dried up in the desert heat.

Emerging from the brow of what was rapidly becoming a dusty skull, a shimmering silver light became visible.

Sounding nearly as stunned as the canyon’s sudden audience, Typhoon spoke up in Rainbow’s mind. What is that?

“I don’t know…” Rainbow whispered. Her gaze slid to her father, and then to Deadeye, and in a moment, all thought of the strange light vanished. Her body refused to run, all semblance of adrenaline lost with the death of Khagan. Still, hustling with all the strength she could muster, she hurried to Reckoning’s side.

“Kid…” The thestral chuckled. “Rainbow… That was incredible.”

Rainbow found she couldn’t resist a chuckle. “Heh. It wasn’t anything special. Let me see if I can get you out of that stone. Typhoon?”

With grating obviousness, the long-dead soldier replied, He can hear you.

“I know.” When Deadeye raised a brow, Rainbow turned her focus to him. “Look, I’ll explain later. It’s kind of a long story. Anyway, Typhoon, can you freeze the rock?”

Like I said before, I’m spent. Ask your father. Or the earth pony.

“Good call,” Rainbow muttered to herself, nodding. Then, raising her head and her voice, she shouted. “Soldier—”

“I’m right here,” Soldier On replied, no more than a stride from Rainbow’s side. “And I would also like to know who Typhoon is. But for now…” The sentence ended with a few grunts of exertion as Soldier On’s hooves ripped away the stone covering Deadeye’s limbs, one after another. “Now the Commander.”

The boars at the mouth of the canyon seemed content to simply watch as the three exhausted and variously wounded ponies stumbled over to the mass of flesh, vines, and golden flowers that was their leader. His muddled brown eyes danced between the other ponies and the remains of Khagan, now decayed to no more than a hollow skeleton.

“On,” his raspy, dry voice managed to harshly growl. “Take… the spark.”

Without rebuttal, the earth pony stepped up to the glowing light and stretched out her hoof. To her shock, and the surprise of everypony save the Commander, the light swept over her limb, fading into her body. A slight glow appeared on her right ear, and in the space of mere moments, the stump completely reformed, indistinguishable from the rest of her coat save its lack of red dust.

“Focus on… your…” A coughing fit interrupted the order, and the flowers on his back writhed, visibly growing taller and thicker. “Magic,” he finished. “Reckoning… fire.”

“Sir, that’ll kill you! I don’t know how deep those vines are inside you, but if I burn them—”

“When he… burns…” Unable to finish the thought, the pony resorted to raising a shaky hoof toward Soldier On, beckoning her closer. “Touch me. Give up… magic…”

The two standing Honor Guard glanced at one another, and without word, nodded. Deadeye stretched out his thestral wing and furrowed his brow in focus. Soldier On laid her hoof on the Commander’s shoulder and serenely closed her eyes.

Tongues of orange flame surrounded leathery flesh. The muscles in Dead Reckoning’s throat tensed in exertion, and his mouth bared teeth both flat and fanged. Waving his wing forward, he sent a wave of fire sweeping over the Commander’s body. Green vines and gold petals seared to brown and black, crumbling away into ash and revealing scalded tunnels that seemed to drive as deep as the Commander’s core.

The silver light that he had called the spark outlined the Commander’s form, starting from where Soldier On’s hoof met his shoulder. As the last tongues of flame faded away, in a matter of moments, the Commander’s flesh began to heal. With sickening cracks, his broken leg contorted, realigning itself. The holes piercing his flesh shed their cauterized linings and wove together fresh new muscle. Scars criss-crossing his muzzle were covered with new fur, and a lively sheen swept over his navy blue coat and the wizened silver of his mane. Even the strange blotchiness of his irises were swept away, revealing perfect orbs of magenta—a perfect match for his daughter’s. In a grisly display, Rainbow’s wings fell from his back. In their place, a set of darker blue feathers stretched up toward the sky.

In Rainbow’s mind, she heard Typhoon gasp, though the mare said nothing.

Rolling his shoulders to the tune of a series of satisfying pops, the Commander rose to his full height. Lean but defined muscles supported a pony of substantial size for a pegasus. His chest swelled and shrank with a strong, full breath.

And then, abruptly, his hind right leg fell out from beneath him. Rainbow, Deadeye, and Soldier On all rushed forward, and their eyes all fell on the massive scar that still dominated his right flank, where one of his cutie marks ought to have been visible.

“Why do you still have that?” Rainbow asked. “Everything else regrew…”

“Luna wanted to make sure Celestia couldn’t heal it,” the Commander replied, his tone controlled despite his moment of pain. “To make sure I couldn’t buck lightning.” With a rather casual motion, the stallion pulled his crippled leg up to his chest, and then pushed himself up on his remaining three legs. “On that topic, Rainbow, I’m surprised your empatha is strong enough.”

“It doesn’t always work. Only when I’m worried about my friends, and I really want it...” Those words brought realization flooding into Rainbow’s mind, and she turned her gaze back to Khagan’s remains. “I… At the end, I think I wanted to kill him. Just to stop the pain. The torture. But now…”

Deadeye’s hoof rested on Rainbow’s shoulder. “Rainbow, you saved my life. Or what’s left of it. You saved the Commander. If anything—”

“Stop.” The Commander’s single syllable brought forth total silence from Deadeye. “Don’t try and coddle her.” His head flicked in Rainbow’s direction. “Let it hurt. You'll sleep better knowing you still have that part of yourself intact."

In the ensuing quiet, the Commander lifted his right hoof, and drew out the silver orb. "I'm surprised. Celestia said this was harder to give up. On, take it. We need it holding more endura for Rainbow." He extended a leg in the direction of the earth pony, who once more accepted the luminescent orb.

"What is it?" Deadeye asked. "His immortality?"

"And his power. The six sparks are parts of Discord's power that the Elements of Harmony took away millennia ago. They grant immortality, nearly infinite mana, and control over one aspect of the world. On, take it again and focus on your magic. We'll need to load it up with endura again to heal Rainbow. And Rainbow, I'll need my armor. Best not to let the spark touch the void crystal; I have no idea what would happen." Finished with his orders, the stallion whistled four short notes and then stepped up to Rainbow, peeling the armor off her chest.

The loss of the weight was a surreal feeling; it laid bare nicks and cuts and fur matted with dried splashes of her own blood from the sheer pain she'd endured. Her whole body hurt, naked in the desert sun, and yet she was still happy to have taken off the black armor.

Soldier On let the silver glow of the spark build on her foreleg yet again. Hovering above her hoof, the spark appeared.

Rainbow reached out to the light. She felt the electric pricking of raw magic, but her mind was locked in a far different feeling dominating her mind. She had killed him. He might have been a monster, but she still killed him. And she'd been happy to do it. She couldn't claim it was an accident, couldn't justify the death without lying to herself.

The spark hovered in the frog of her hoof, tempting her with the promise of blue skies and the unending rush of adrenaline. But every time she let herself imagine looking down on Ponyville or ripping over the streets, her eyes wandered to Khagan’s corpse.

“I can’t take this.”

What—?

Echoing Typhoon’s sentiments, Deadeye stepped forward. “Rainbow, it’ll give you back your wings. Don’t you want that?”

“I do.” Rainbow looked back at the sore, open stubs on her back. “I really do. And I’m gonna get my wings back. Just not like this.”

Soldier On took a slow step forward. “I hope you aren’t talking about asking Luna to—”

“She’s not.” The Commander’s voice left no room for counterargument. Sheer force of steel in his voice made his position perfectly clear. “If she wants to walk back to Canterlot, let her. Celestia can heal her easily.” Turning pointedly to look Rainbow in the eye, he continued, “Make no mistake, we will talk about this more, once we’re not surrounded by hostiles. For now, we need to go. Rainbow, give Enka the spark and tell her how it works. I’ll join you in a moment. Deadeye, On, give me a status report.”

Nopony questioned the commands. Soldier On slowly lowered Enka from her back onto the rusty red soil, and then stepped away to give Rainbow space and to speak quietly with the Commander. Rainbow reached down, pressing the spark against Enka’s wiry coat. With a low glow and a slight hum, the spark faded into the sow’s body.

A few strides away, Reckoning coughed into his hoof and looked up at the mass of boars blocking the only exit from Balgas Rift. He didn’t seem to be hiding his voice; Rainbow could hear him easily. “Sir, this may be a bad time to bring this up, but is she gonna be okay holding on to that spark… thing? Aren’t you worried one of the other boars might try to take it?”

“If they kill her, Suida will crumble from infighting and the Tusk Rot. But we will do everything in our power to ensure that doesn't happen, and we will have an ally.”

On cocked her head. “But won’t Krenn or Magnus come after the spark?”

The Commander frowned sharply at the latter name; a surprising display of emotion in Rainbow’s experience. “After Nightmare Moon, the other races with sparks made two rules. Never use a spark’s power against another race, and never pursue stealing another race’s spark. Break either, and you’ll face the other ‘bearers’ trying to return it to its rightful owners. Now, Reckoning, you got an overhead. Is there a way off the top of the plateau that doesn’t come down into the rift?”

Though the Commander continued to ask questions and issue his orders, Rainbow’s attention was pulled away from the Honor Guard’s discussion by Enka’s cloven hoof tapping against her shoulder. “Is… is that Khagan?” Her head tilted toward the leathery remains of the once-mighty boar.

It took a deep breath for Rainbow to find the words. “Yes.”

“Your friends killed him?”

Rainbow said nothing. It proved more than enough answer for Enka.

“So… what happens now?”

Rainbow looked over to the other boars and shrugged. “Well, I guess you’re in charge. You’re gonna have a whole bunch of magic from the ‘spark’ thing. And Dad says that means the other boars will probably listen to you. You’re probably gonna get super huge too; I don’t know how long that takes though.”

Enka shook her head, smiling slightly. “I don’t really care about size, Rainbow. I’m not sure I believe your father, either. It’s been the way of the boars since before even Khagan was born that the strongest claims power by killing his predecessor. I… if you’ve given me his power, I may be the first sow Warchief ever, if that title even means anything. But I have little doubt the other chiefs who served Khagan will try to kill me in order to replace him. I have neither the skill in battle nor the desire to defeat them. And I’m afraid that I’m not ready to lead anyboar. Certainly not to lead a bunch of boars who want me dead.”

“You can’t look at it like that, Enka.” Rainbow shook her head. “Look, take it from me. I might not look like much right now, but my friends and I beat Nightmare Moon, Discord, an army of these creepy shape-shifting bug things—not to mention I’m the best flier in Equestria.”

Got a little ego, Rainbow?

“And I didn’t do any of that by letting myself worry about who was going to get in my way, or what I was gonna have to beat. That’s not how being awesome works. You have to push through. You have to decide ‘I’m gonna do this’, and then you can’t listen to anypony—er, anybody who says anything else.”

Enka let her gaze slide away, returning to the withered remains of warchief Khagan. “I’m afraid that isn’t who I am, Rainbow. I don’t embrace confrontation. Do not misunderstand me; I would love for my kind to become a peaceful people. But… I am not certain I am the one to make such a change.”

“You’re right; you aren’t.” Enka jumped slightly at the stern voice of the Commander, no longer raspy or hollow as she had last heard it. The armored blue stallion slowly wandered over toward her and his daughter. “Change is a violent process. It takes a creature willing to embrace conflict to change the world. Someone like Rainbow or I, in one way or another. But that work is done. Suida doesn’t need someone like us anymore. The violence is over. What it needs now is a builder. A healer. A source of stability. Someone like you, or Celestia.”

Enka blinked twice. “I hesitate to take such advice from you.”

“Would it be any different if Rainbow had said it?” The Commander frowned beneath the gleaming gold brow of Hurricane’s helmet. “Or do you think I’m lying to you after what you’ve done for us?” He waited a moment, though not long enough for Enka to find a real answer. “You’ll rule by right of the spark. The other chiefs won’t challenge you. You know how to cure the tusk rot.”

Enka’s eyes widened, making ridges on her forehead. “I do?”

“From what you heard in the cell, you know it comes from the gilded lotus, rather than some ancestral curse. You know that it feeds on the marrow as a source of magic—hence the rotting of the tusks and other bones. And you know that it survives digestion, meaning that eating something infected will likewise infect you. From that, you ought to know the cure. But, to be blunt, you need to burn the bodies of your dead, and anything else you find in the wilds that shows signs of infection. You need to burn any growths of the flower you find as well. You’ll face a struggle getting your people not to bury the bodies, but in time they will see their children grow up healthy, and you’ll be a hero to them. If you need help in rule, in resources, or in defense against those who would try to take your land, Equestria will stand by your side.”

“Wait, what?” Rainbow turned to her father. “You killed like, tons of them. And now you’re saying we’re gonna be allies or something?”

“Enka is the only boar who knows we had any involvement in the tusk rot, beyond Khagan’s claims that I was some instrument of revenge on the part of their ancestors. She will refrain from discussing the truth, and so will you. And in exchange, she will never see me again, and Celestia will give her both the resources she needs to lead a nation, and the guidance that it takes to live forever.” He pointedly looked back to Enka. “We believe that a friend is worth more than a spark.”

Rainbow felt herself cringe as she glared at her father. “You… Did you seriously just play the friendship card? How dare you?!”

He rolled his eyes—a motion with more sincerity than she had expected from the seasoned soldier. “An ‘ally’ then. I don’t mean it personally. Enka, make no mistake, this is entirely an act of self-interest. Peaceful rule in Suida means Equestria can demilitarize its southern border for the first time in thousands of years.” Then he stepped forward, looking straight into the sow’s eyes with unsurmountable intensity. “I am offering you peace, Enka, for the first time in either of our lives. If you don’t take it, your people will fight until they are weak, and my flowers and the creatures in the wastes will finish the job. That isn’t a threat; it’s simple fact. I know you’ll make the right decision. Send an envoy to Canterlot soon, or come yourself. Now, however, I’m afraid Rainbow and I cannot wait any longer.”

Rainbow cocked her head. “Are we in a hurry?”

“Yes; do you remember Discord’s warning?”

Rainbow had to think for a moment, and then nodded. “All that stuff about Shining Armor? Is he… dead? Is that what Discord meant?”

“I don’t know,” the Commander answered. Then, taking a step toward Rainbow, he wrapped a foreleg over her shoulders. “Please don’t squirm; I won’t have you in the air for long.”

Rainbow barely had time to draw breath for a response before his powerful wings pulled her up from the ground and away from Balgas Rift.

In her mind, Typhoon spoke forcefully. I need to talk to Luna, Rainbow. There’s something I have to know. Don’t mention it to your father or your friends until we’ve heard from her.

The nod Rainbow offered in response could easily have been mistaken for her nodding off into peaceful sleep. Instead, supported by her father’s legs, Rainbow watched Balgas Rift draw away below as they rose into the air. Even in the wind, as Enka and the other boars became blurs amidst the shadows and the dust, Khagan’s withered corpse held her attention. Only when the tall cliffs of the canyon stole her sin from view did she dare to close her eyes and draw breath.

Comments

[Zevski]

Glad to see this back, and what a chapter! A nice fight and we get to see the power of a spark, plus Hurricane Steel Lining is back to kick some ass.

[arancaytar]

Edit: Spoilered.

Ding dong! The pig is dead!

After all these setbacks and this much suffering, I hardly dared hope it would end this well! I'm really curious about the gilded lotus/tusk rot thing now: Are the ponies responsible for creating the plant? Why was Khagan full of it, and is that why he fell apart when he died?

Best not to let the spark touch the void crystal; I have no idea what would happen.

Try to imagine all life as you know it stopping instantaneously and every molecule in your body exploding at the speed of light.

[Voidedstory]

Hell yeah. goodbye, Khagan!

[Mithrandir]

Wow, finally he falls! Way to go, Rainbow!

[son_of_heaven176]

Wait a sec:

. In a grisly display, Rainbow’s wings fell from his back.

Didn't Typhoon already chop Rainbow's wings of a few chapters ago?

[son_of_heaven176]

6398808
That was explained a few chapters ago. Fallaner (the elk from the previous story), created the plant and the Commander, Stoikaja, and Deadeye weren't on a secret mission to kill Khagan with it. But Khagan didn't eat it--another boar did--hence the plant now lives in Suida and causes Tusk Rot.