> The Mad Seeress of the North
>  by Hail King Sombra
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> 1. A Predator Amongst the Mares
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The charcoal gray stallion stood upon the peak of the peninsula, peering ahead as His small band of warriors were making their final way to the top to join Him. Beneath the thick, soft blanket of fog, He knew they had ocean to their left – a wide expanse at the edge of the continent, with no land sight to the horizon and a natural bay to their right. Still early morning, the sun had barely crested over the horizon.

Something didn't feel right. Fear tickled the edges of His senses, told Him His prey was close by, but not a single pony nor settlement was visible anywhere. 

He smiled. They hid well. But of course, not well enough.

“Sire?” the voice of his Guard Captain was at last behind Him.

The King of Shadows turned only slightly to address him. “Are your men all present, Captain Iron Blade?” He asked.

“Yes, My King,” the Captain performed a perfect salute. He joined Him in scouting the land and sea ahead, seeing nothing, but knowing better. King Sombra would not have brought them here if they were not close.

“Such damn fog!” Blade complained, snorting. “Good thing Terrain warned us about this weather.”

“Yes,” Sombra nodded. He smiled, exposing more than the usual tips of His fangs. “It gives me great advantage in this war. I daresay it could make this the last campaign I need to throw our kingdom's resources at.”

Iron Blade laughed. “That would relieve Tight Planner. He acts like he cannot manage Your schedule when You leave the country for a week.” He regarded his King, looking for signs of mirth. It had been a long, hard trip to Marazon that had worn on everypony's nerves. Everypony except the Shadow Pony was looking for humor and distraction at this point in the campaign.

He did get a small, tight smile and a grunt His long-time Captain and friend caught. While everyone else was slightly more frayed than usual, Sombra was still full of a fire and exuberance Blade had not been witness to since the two had successfully taken the Crystal Kingdom into the New Era.

“Camp your men – there - “ Sombra pointed a steel-toed hoof in the direction of a grove of trees not far from their position. “I will scout ahead. The Marazons are well concealed, but they are here.”

Iron Blade wordlessly signaled his men towards the grove. While en route, once out of their leader's earshot, one newer recruit spoke up in a hushed whisper. “Captain, why has King Sombra chosen to accompany us this time?”

“Because, Sure Step, He wanted a bit of exercise,” came the strange reply.

“And the last two expeditions never returned,” one of the unicorn archers added.

“Better we succeed, and to ensure that, He has chosen to lead us this time. It annoys Him so little is known about the Marazons, it has become a drain on His resources.” The Captain stepped lightly over the heavy layering of dried forest litter that crunched under hoof.

“He must also want to satisfy His curiosity as to how a tribe of mares has routed some of His best men,” an archer called True Aim, added. The group came to their position and turned back to the hillside where King Sombra still stood, studying, listening to Celestia-only-knew-what the land and air was telling Him.

“This time it's more curiosity,” Iron Blade shook his head. “He went to great lengths to confirm the Marazons have the prize He seeks.” The Captain smiled. “It's rare He finds something so elusive of Him. Trust me, He's taking pleasure in this hunt.”

The recruit's eyes widened. “'Hunt'?” he repeated. “You say that like He' a predator!”

The Captain smirked. “You didn't notice His fangs? Tell me when you have ever seen a pony with fangs?”

The stallion shuddered. It was true. Herbivores did not possess fangs. So what did that make King Sombra?

A cold, westerly wind chilled them through their coats. All eyes were drawn back to their King. It was good they were still upwind, but this area had proven it could change wind direction quickly. He would have to -

- they all blinked and their King was gone.

“What?” the recruit whispered. “How?”

“You'll see. Wait,” his Captain nodded, settling in on a rock. He pulled out his sword and began sharpening the blade, knowing there was nothing more to do now but hold their position.

*            *            *
“Queen Ainippe!”

A tall, stately mare turned from her council as a scout reported back. “Yes, Quiet Hoof?”

The scout bowed. “They have returned.”

One of her advisers, an older orange and crème colored female called Neris, nodded.

“This is no surprise.”

The Queen considered the news. “This is quicker this time.” She clicked at the falcon perched on the tip of her throne. “And according to Light Wing here, there are fewer of them.” She considered what it could mean. “I do not like this.”

“It confirms what I saw, my Queen,” Quiet Hoof agreed.

“Why fewer, Your Highness?” the adviser asked, speaking up again.

“Their best warriors this time, Neris,” she said grimly. “Or worse.”

The falcon chittered. She took in the news uneasily. “Wing says their leader is a dark pony with a flaming horn and dark magics.” She crossed quickly to a pond of still water caught in a cistern of silver. “Luna help us, Quiet Hoof, I fear it is He who she warned us about!”

The falcon screeched, uneasy. The noise of the counsel drowned out its sudden panic, but then it grew eerily calm shortly before the Marazon Queen got her people's distress back under control. As the Queen waved her hoof over the water container, the others gathered around her, the falcon also flying over to perch at the side of the waters. “Is this the creature you saw?” she asked the scout and the falcon as she drew forth an image of King Sombra standing over the cliffs of the bay, searching for them.

Both equine and bird scout nodded yes. Ainippe looked closer at the falcon, seeing an unsettling glean of green in its black eyes. She glanced down at the water. The image of the Pony King faded, replaced for an instant by the reflection of the falcon in its depths.

The image changed again.

Ainippe gasped and staggered back. The older councilmare came over to see what could have frightened their battle-hardened Queen. A pair of burning green eyes that glowed with purple mist peered back at her. Neris screeched, shrank back quickly. “Nyx was right, as usual,” she shuddered.

The Queen made a harsh hoof gesture. “NO!” she said sharply. “Do not think of her. Say nothing! Think NOTHING!” She backed away from the bird, grabbed a spear from one of the guards, aimed it, and pierced the falcon's heart.

Or tried to. As soon as the blade touched the predator, it dissolved into dark shadows. A stallion's harsh laughter accompanied the shadow's lightning quick movement across the marbled floors and out into the coastal air. Concerned murmurs ran through her council.

The spear clattered to the floor. “We leave NOW!” Ainippe commanded.

*            *            *

Back at the camp, Captain Iron Blade stood suddenly, his body posture stiffening. The platoon around him tensed in response. Their recruit blinked in confusion, but gathered his weapons at the ready nonetheless.

True Aim grabbed his quiver and slung it quickly over onto his back. He saw the tinge of something in the corner of their Captain's eyes. “Sire!” he called out. Everyone dropped to one knee in one swift motion. The newest member dropped a moment later, unsure what had just happened, looking around for their King.

He froze in fear as their Captain turned to them, his eyes glowed an unnatural green. When he spoke, it was not with his own voice, but with the colder, hollow-echoed rumble of King Sombra using his vocal chords. “They are alerted. Iron Blade will lead you to them while I keep them - “ and here he smiled coldly. “occupied.”
> 2. I See You
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Temple of the Moon stood on the lone bluff overlooking a cold, windy section of bay just north of the Marazon's current campaign. Princess Luna had never condoned the warrior mares calling it a temple, nor dedicating it to her, but there was little she could do to change their stubborn minds and let them be as long as there was no attempt to outright worship her within its gleaming marble walls.

Inside, one other Marazon maiden watched their seeress pace back and forth with worried eyes. “Nyx, you are quite restless. Why don't you get some sleep while you still can?”

The black mare turned a cold-eyed gaze to her. It was not intentional, but her soulless, all black eyes always gave the impression she could look straight through ponies talking to her. “Rest?” she echoed. “Rest is done. No more, not ever again,” she muttered. She paused to look out over the waters of the turbulent ocean to their west.

Something occurred to her once she was back in her right mind and had both hooves again in the physical realm. “Physical? Did you mean physical rest?” she asked the temple attendant. “Oh,” she laughed. “Well, there will be plenty of time for that...plenty doing that...waiting for my King in his chambers as he conducts the day-to-day torture of his subjects.” Whimpering, Nyx crouched down on the window sill, putting her hooves over her head, as if she could shut out the futures that kept flickering behind her eyes.

Shuddering, she looked too long, too attentively at the ocean, Luna's reflection to her moonlit skies above. Celestia probably didn't even know her sister ruled them as well as night, if the dense Princess of the Sun's apathy towards her younger sibling's abilities and potential were any indication!

“I so weary of waiting for my destiny to catch up to me, Charon,” she said wistfully. She might as well have been talking to the wall for all the Lower Priestess of the temple listened, but she went on anyway, finding it a way to settle her thoughts and put them in order. “I weary of walking between the physical and ethereal worlds, never having a solid grip nor link to either.”

If only they would let her end it! Her eyes glancing down longingly at the thousand foot drop to the jagged rocks below. If she could only keep the visions and pull to the Other Side at bay long enough...focus her thoughts on what she wanted to accomplish here as her last act of physical existence...

“No!” she snarled as the attendant dragged her back away from the window with powerful magics. “DAMN YOU CHARON!” she cursed out the Marazon who kept stopping Nyx from ending herself before the futures she always saw could claim her. The seeress ended up in a heap at Charon's hooves. Giving her an acid look of contempt before the mare walked away, Nyx spat after her. “You BITCH! If you saw what I do - “

“Yes, I probably would do the same,” Charon admitted, turning back around to face her, the chestnut mare agreed settling on her haunches, back against a far wall. “But I am tasked with stopping you no matter what.” She indicated the open balcony. “You walk so much between here and the Other Side, Nyx, you forget that I placed a field over the balcony to keep you from jumping to your death, but you would find a way to get past it and die anyway, don't think I do not know that.” She snorted. “Neris thinks it a disgrace if word got out a Marazon committed suicide.”

Nyx couldn't believe her ears! She stood, stamping the ground, snorting her displeasure. “The King of Shadows comes for us – FOR ME, not caring who He kills to get to me and that nasty, EVIL old nag worries about our reputation?!?” Nyx yelled, furious. “And since when does a councilmare – a peon like her actually get a say above the Queen's?!?”

Charon swirled the thin layer of sand on the floor in front of her into little rune patterns, unfazed by her companion's outburst. She and Nyx watched the sparks of magic that glittered at their forming and destruction as they were erased over by the attendant's hoof. “There is much wrong with the current system of government,” Charon muttered. “I never said it was fair, but it is not our Queen's fault.”

“Damn right.” Nyx sniped, moving back towards her and away from the balcony. “I never said it - “ Hit by a wave of nausea, she tensed, watching her front-left hoof go slightly transparent, then got hit by a wave of pain as if it were being crushed by a stallion's overpowering strength. She gasped, thrown and pinned to the wall next to the window, caught in the grip of a burning green and purple-tinged field of dark magics.

Charon looked over with a spasm of fear at this newest fit of Nyx's. Most of them had been mild in comparison, but none had actually, physically thrown her about like this one. Then she saw the aura. Rising, she watched stunned as the Seeress struggled and gasped, fighting to breathe.

Nyx reached out a hoof to Charon, motioning her to stay away, but the temple attendant misread her, thinking she was asking for help. She shook her head violently as the chestnut mare cautiously approached. “No, get away, Charon!” she gasped, the pressure of the future vision letting up on her lungs enough she could vocalize a warning to her.

Then -

"That is HIS story - " a stallion's dark-tinged, hollowed voice seethed around them. "Prince Sombra's. NOT MINE!"

“Tartarus!” the attendant yelped, cowering back. Never before had the Seeress's insane rants included speaking in another's voice, especially one so saturated with such a burning evil in its whispery inflections – like a thousand trapped, angry pony shades screaming to escape their vile prison bonds. And, unlike the others that had actually issued from Nyx herself, this one seemed to come from the air around them as if the room itself was bleeding future visions into their reality that could no longer be contained!

As much as it scared Charon, she approached Nyx, who was still pinned, frozen in fear, gazing at something or someone directly in front of her. Her hooves were pressed up against her breastbone, the flesh actually compressed by an unseen force.

“Goddess! Nyx, can you hear me?” a hoof ventured out to the black mare's shoulder. If she could touch her, perhaps the grounding in the present would break whatever unseen creature had her trapped...

The room's light dimmed, the coastal fog creeping over the balcony, coiling thickly at their hooves, turned into smoky darkness.

It noticed Charon.

Charon ignored it, horrified as Nyx's whimpers increased, her breathing again labored as if her heart were hammering inside her chest, trying to break free as if to flee its fate.

“Time Witch, Time Witch, Time Witch...” The attendant's head pounded, the feeling of reality and time warping so strong around her mad companion trapped in her vision-walking desolation, Charon could actually feel it!

“Take care...your next words...” the stallion's voice echoed from the marble floors, the walls, its presence becoming too strong to ignore.

Tears filled Nyx's eyes as the pressure let up, the hoof pain faded short of snapping the bone. “Goodbye Charon,” she whispered. “I will sing your funeral dirge in the enemy's camp as the Tyrant of the Crystal Empire holds my chains to His chest.”

Charon stepped back, ears flattening in fear. Nyx's predictions always came tr -

The coiling darkness in the fog grabbed the mare by the ankle, hoisting her violently off her hooves. She would have screamed if the sickening, evil cloud had not silenced her by stuffing a portion of itself down her throat. With deadly aim and in eerie silence, it threw the hapless mare out of the temple, off the balcony, shattering the protection field, plunging her to her death a thousand feet below onto the sharp ocean rocks.



The Marazon witch woke to an eerie silence and a terrible pain in her mind. Experience with other visions had taught her never to get up too fast once they released their grip on her.  So she opted for merely turning her head as a movement across the room at the balcony caught her eye.

Pain nearly made her black out again as even that simple movement pinched a nerve in her neck, adding to her misery. She had ridden out some bad visions before, but this one was the end-all-be-all of the worst she had ever had in her life!

“Charon?” she asked weakly, thinking the blurry motion at the veranda was her Marazon sister. She sighed, closing her eyes again. Maybe she had not spoken loud enough for her to hear. Either way, the seeress was too tired and disoriented to care to repeat the question.

After a moment, when the sickness and weakness lifted enough she could stay conscious, Nyx felt her hoof gingerly. “Not broken,” she said aloud, relieved. “I'll just stay here, if you don't mind, Charon.” Her eyes closed again as she focused internally, trying to realign herself to the reality of where her body and mind were now. At the moment, even though she was in hiding, it was the more preferable place to be, since it was not threatening to break her limbs.


The swirling, dark essence of the Tyrant King's consciousness paused on the veranda, confused. The great distance was limiting His power and clarity of the surroundings. Two sources of fear, feminine fear, had brought Him to this area far flung from their current assault.

Both sources had held a delicious, attractive fear of the Shadow Pony himself, but one had seemingly phased out of existence, leaving Him extremely puzzled – and hungry for its taste in His mind again.

The second fear lingered behind, had been so enticing, so seemingly focused on HIM, it had made Him lose control, grabbing it, gorging itself on the deliciousness of the terrified mare's mind. And in doing so, His actions had heightened her fear to such an extent, He had nearly gone mad with the sheer joy of what it was feeding Him in power. No, He HAD gone into a frenzy of ecstasy and His dark magic had sated itself, then tossed its/his victim over the edge of the cliff where it had continued to enrich Him until Charon's death had put a sudden end to the feast.

Oh well. That's how they went, He sighed. Sometimes like a fire as bright as the sun. Those were the briefest kills to be certain, but never the most satisfying in the long run.

So now His Shadow slowed and searched. Where had that other fear gone? The thick, coiling shadows wondered if He had been incorrect in their number.

Perhaps. The fear of mares usually had a uniqueness all its own, sometimes stronger than a stallion's, sometimes merely on a different “wave” length. Certain that the Marazon's warrior-disciplined minds would not register the same as other mares, Sombra had allowed this faint, strange signal to nudge Him this direction up the coast, following the hunch without question. To His inborn hungers, it had been similar to following the smell of food without knowing whether the food was what He was craving at the moment.

The further He traveled and the closer He got, something deeper inside Him whispered that He was on the correct trail and for the first time in His life, if asked, He could not have vocalized what it was He had sensed.

Her gift. Yes, that must have been it.

The Shadow that was Sombra's extension of consciousness settled down, opting for patience, melting into its fellow shadows at the corners of the room, waiting for another scent of food.
> 3. Two Armies
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Marazons quickly recovered from the unease of seeing their enemy spying on them right in their midsts and wasted no time leaving the area. They headed south, led by Queen Ainippe. She was flanked by her best warriors as they made their way through forests of twisted oaks and sycamore trees and the underbrush of poison ivy that clung to the base of the oaks. Cover was thick here, as well as the coastal fog, and they were expert at concealing their presence within both. Still, the Queen was uneasy.

“Quiet Hoof,” she called their scout to her, speaking in an ancient dialect of their native tongue.

“Yes, my Queen?”

“Make certain none are overheard by the enemy. All must speak old Marazon until further notice and bring the unicorns to the front, sides and back of the line,” she instructed. “have them light our way. King Sombra's shadows will have no power of concealment here with their glow.”

“Yes, my Queen!” she hurried off to do as instructed.

The Warrior Queen watched as her magic-users quickly and silently moved into position. At a signal from their Captain, passed down through the line, they lit their horns with a carefully prepared spell that would flood their ranks and the surroundings with light, but not allow it to show through the canopy above them, the last being aided by the thick blanket of cooling fog enveloping the area. Still, no chances were to be taken. The last two assaults from King Sombra's troops had also carried pegasi among them and she knew well if they were spotted from above, it would be over all too soon.

Ainippe wondered how Nyx and Charon were getting along. How long before Sombra discovered the future-seer was nowhere near them, let alone in their ranks? He was not dull, this terrifying King. She had placed a few inquiries to their sisters to the far Northern areas. Those witness to the Tyrant's unique powers and cruelty attested to his sharp military mind, confirming Nyx's visions. Between Herself and Nyx, with what little the seer had been able to make sense out of her magical gift, there were a few options to slow Him and His army down as long as He was unaware they knew more about Him then He currently knew about the Marazon's themselves. She smiled. Their tactics were going to be remembered for being unusual and creative and never tried before, even if they did not survive this assault.

The smile faded as she sighed. Just stall tactics. That's all this was. They would only be able to slow Him down. The question was, would it be long enough that Nyx would be able to get away from Him? Everyone knew the danger if Sombra got his hooves on her. No one questioned if this was worth the lives that would be lost in the battles to come.


Several hours into their trek, they came to the end of their cover. They were at the edge of the fog and the forests. Soft, rolling hillsides with little cover lay ahead, an easy place to get caught out in the open with no defensible terrain to retreat to.

There was something else, though. Something nagging, that felt wrong – off. Ainippe called Quiet Hoof to her again.

“Have we heard from the flyers?” the Queen asked.

The amber-colored mare shook her head. “All but three have returned, My Queen. Early reports are there has been no sign of enemy pursuit.” She shook her head, clearly plagued by the same thing that bothered her Commander. “It feels - “

“ - too quiet?” Ainippe filled in.

“Yes!” Quiet agreed eagerly.

“Stop the advance. I am calling a tactical meeting. Sure!” She set a hoof on Sure's shoulder. “but first, we need to contact our advance scouts to the north, ahead of Neverwake Field. There is a portal to do so at - ”

The scout nodded, her brown eyes lighting up. “- Mirror lake? It is very close.”

“Yes. I desire to know what happened to Nyx. Is she still - “ the Marazon leader was interrupted by a hawk call from behind her, in the ranks, signaling their returning pegasi. Everypony looked up, to the northern skies. Ainippe's heart sank. Only one of the three fliers was returning.

The pegasus flew erratically. Finally, to their horror, a wing crumpled in as she was closer to the ground, causing her to make a hard, painful landing. The closest mares to the crash zone increased their gallop to get to her aid.

The flyer was a Marazon named Fly Away. She was wheezing heavily, an arrow stuck in her left flank, blood thick down the injured leg.

The Queen looked quickly to their physician who was already assessing the pegasus for how to treat the grievous injury. “Sister, what happened? Where are the others?”

The pegasus had enough presence of mind to realize she needed to reply in the ancient tongue as well. “Sky Wind and Cloud Rider are dead. Ambushed. I'm not as fast a flier, was lagging behind, saw them - “ she gasped as the physician applied an herbal painkiller to her flank, then relaxed as it did its work. Another mare put a cold compress on her fevered brow. “saw them die. One shot with an arrow, the other...” she shut her eyes, trying not to be sick at the memory.

“The other?” Ainippe asked gently.

“Stabbed...crystals...red crystals. Shot at her from an armored unicorn.” She lifted a wing gingerly where one had embedded itself in her side underneath it. “Got me too, but I was too far away to be struck fatally.” She tried to smile wryly, but her face fell again. “Obviously.”

The medical unicorn pulled one of several shards from Fly, holding the crystal aloft for the Queen and everyone's inspection. “These must be their King's special – talent,” Ainippe nodded, carefully keeping the disgust out of her voice. It was time for analyzing tactics, not shock and anger. “'Armored', you said?”

Fly nodded wearily. “I saw the glint of the sun on metal on His body. He wears a red cloak as well. The kind arrogant stallions of royalty are so fond of.”

Ainippe laid a hoof gently against Away's pale cheek. “One more thing, sister. Their direction?”

This question agitated the pegasus. “North, my Queen. Away from us!”

There were shocked murmurs among the gathered mares. “No, that can't be!” Councilmare Neris countered, speaking up. “They have no reason to believe we went that direction!”

“Clues were laid down as to all three possible directions we could have taken,” Quiet Hoof told them as she stood at the Queen's side. Her concerned gaze met Ainippe's. “By Luna's crescent, how did they know?”

Ainippe stood taller, composing herself, going over the situation quickly in her mind. Neris paced, flicking her tail in nervousness. “He could not.” She glared back at Fly Away. “You are incorrect. That could not be the direction they were going.”

The pegasus shook her head. “We approached from the east to throw them off, ma'am. There was no mistaking it. They were to our right wing.” She swallowed. “Even after they killed Sky and Cloud and wounded me, I saw them continue north, towards the temple.”

“Towards Nyx,” Ainippe nodded grimly, believing her.

“They didn't even bother to finish me, or my flock,” Away shuddered. “They left them there. I had to return to warn you. I – I couldn't help them!” It was at this point the wounded mare let tears slip as guilt, pain, and blood loss took their toll.

Ainippe looked to their healer. “Take care of her. We are done here.” Eyes blazing, she turned to her army, addressed them loudly, “Captains and tacticians to me! Sisters, pick four runners from among you to retrieve the dead at once! A healer, a unicorn and two warriors. All swift runners and I want NO MORE CASUALTIES!” Her strong, clear voice carried over the assembly as mares started a rhythmic stomping of their hooves in solidarity and support. “My sisters, restock food and medicines from the land quickly. Rest while you can and tend those who need treating. We reverse course once our Council has concluded strategizing at Mirror Lake!” The Queen reared up, her front hooves pawing the air, a war growl escaping her lips the assembly mirrored back. 

HOURS EARLIER...

The Crystal Army mounted their gear and headed out as soon as their King had spoken through Commander Iron Blade, following the curve of the land as it went southwest. Because the terrain was loose and rocky, it slowed their progress slightly. The Commander sent their scout Sure Step ahead to make up for the loss of time. Their pace kept them warm, a welcome change from maneuvers outside their King's crystal field surrounding the Empire, but shedding and carrying the additional weight of the insulated clothing they had needed to don to survive while getting outside the arctic chill of the Empire, added to slowing their pace just that little bit more.

The Unicorn Archer's Division Lieutenant, True Aim, had taken to walking with Iron Blade part of the way, partly for the Commander's company and partly to satisfy his curiosity. He looked over into their second leader's eyes, relaxing ever so slightly that they were back to their normal, steel-grey color.

“Yes, I am me again,” Blade assured him.

“As many times as I've seen King Sombra do that, it still creeps me the Tartarus out,” True admitted, shivering. “What's it feel like?”

Blade shrugged. “I can't really describe it to you, Aim,” he admitted. “If you've never been possessed, there is no context for you to understand it within.”

“Try me,” the archer pressed. “I'm bored and we have a long walk.”

“What, you want a game of twenty questions?”

“Sure. Okay, that works for me.” Aim thought a moment. “When His Majesty – you know, does that - “

“Speaks through me,” Blade said, smirking. “That help?”

Aim laughed. “Okay, yeah, 'speaks through you,' are you conscious of it?”

“Oh yes. Wouldn't do much good to not be. I have to follow His directions as well.”

A nod. “Makes sense, I guess. Though I thought if you're sharing thoughts - “

Blade shook his head. “It doesn't work that way, Aim. And I - would rather not,” he admitted with a touch of hesitancy.

The archer raised his eyebrows. “Really? Why wouldn't you want to know the thoughts of a King? I mean what an opportunity!“

“I've been His friend and comrade for years,” the Commander's voice grew slightly darker. “Knew Him before he became King. I was under Prince Sombra's command when He was the Royal Guard Captain for the Crystal Army.” His tone turned from dark to slightly sad. “I know more about what goes on in that pony's head than Princess Luna herself.”

True's eyes widened. “I heard he and she were - “

“Operative word, True. 'Were.' “ interrupted Blade. “If you want to live, you will never mention you even know that.”

The terrain was tricky where they were crossing, so they and the army had to concentrate on negotiating over loose, rocky soil down steep, hilly inclines. Their discussion was by necessity delayed until they made sure they were back on solid ground.

“Were you there when she and he - “ the archer took up the subject again.

“ - courted?” Blade nodded, smiling.

This excited the other unicorn who was suddenly brimming with a thousand questions. “What is she like? Is she as beautiful as they say? Does her mane really look like a hundred trapped stars and her eyes like teal sapphires?”

“More than you can imagine,” came the smiling reply. “You can feel the vibration, the power of her magic standing twenty feet away in the same room. She radiates with a softer light than her sister's. It's cooler, refreshing. It feels as if the quiet beauty of the moon was standing next to you, watching you, not judging those acts done in darkness. Just – accepting you for who and what you were. He needed that. There were many who shunned him outside the battalion. Even some in the palace hated and feared Him before they had a good reason to.”

“Before He claimed the throne?” the archer guessed.

Blade nodded. “They did not think a non-crystal pony – even a royal one, should hold the title over them. His mother's lineage was in question. There were rumors...well, it doesn't matter now, does it?” he smiled grimly. “His Highness had to overcome some strong opposition to his policies and He did so with tact and cunning, and later, cold efficiency. Before...” he shook his head, trailing off, surprising himself at how freely he was talking to the Lieutenant about things probably best left in the shadows with their King.

True Aim was silent for a moment after Blade paused, caught up in his description. “And Princess Luna loved him even back then?”

Blade nodded, relieved to be off the darker part of the subject of the takeover Sombra had initiated after his mother's death. “She defended him at first – even against her sister Celestia's misgivings. Not many understand her night, especially the way Prince Sombra did, going even beyond that understanding, becoming a part of it. Some say he gave his very soul to it – and to her.”

True Aim shook his head, feeling sorry for their King. “Defended him? Against Celestia herself? No wonder he loved her!”

His companion nodded. “They both belong to night, or rather, Sombra belongs to her night. She is and always has been his Queen – even though they are no longer together. It tore him apart inside when she left.” Again Blade's voice turned quiet. “He has never spoken of it again.”

“What happened?” the archer asked. “Why were they separated?”

“It is - complicated. Not long before this, but after His death at Lake Evershine - “

True Aim felt like he had missed something. “What? Wait – death? But He - “

“As I said, True. Complicated,” Blade sighed. “I do not exaggerate when I say death. I think King Sombra would not spare even my life if I revealed the truth of those events to another living soul.

“I can impart this much because many in the Empire saw it that day. Princess Celestia finally stepped in and forbade them to see each other – she went as far as to erect a barrier around the Empire the Moon Princess could not gain passage through.” He shuddered. “I saw that first night she could not penetrate it. She brought her mightiest lunar swords against it – ones that cannot be broken in battle, nor dulled of blade, forged in the heart of the stars themselves! They came to bear against it again and again and again, while Sombra on his side called forth a deadly crystal scythe, similar to the one He carries now, but glittering with deep, red crystal from the heart of the Empire’s mines. Together they cracked the shielding – almost to the point of destroying it utterly, but when the sunshine of morning touched its surface, it renewed, grew strong again, and again and AGAIN!” He lowered his head, remembering in pain. “Every time, Aim. Every damn time!” He slammed a hoof into the side of the rock he was sitting on, chipping off the outer layers of granite.

Composing himself after a moment, he continued, his voice husky. “After a while, they gave up. It was utterly impossible to breach. I can still hear her crying on one side where she had collapsed, He on the other, unable to touch her, unable to provide her the comfort of a simple embrace. Then her sister came, pronounced Him unclean because of his dalliance with dark magic and dragged her away, Luna sobbing incoherently. Celestia forbade Prince Sombra to ever see her again.”

“His rage at Celestia shook the castle to its foundations, spread a darkness throughout the land. Her spell bound His body to the Crystal Empire for eternity so He could not pursue her, but He could escape in His shadow form – something Celestia was unaware He could do!” Blade took a breath, stilling the old emotions of pain and anger at seeing his friends suffer, unable to help them. “But by the time He realized this,” he shook his head. “It was already too late.” He looked around, making sure no one else heard. “When He caught up with Princess Luna, days later in secret, in His shadow form, she did not remember Him!”

True Aim's eyes widened. “What? By Tartarus, why?”

“No one knows,” Blade shrugged. “My contacts in Canterlot Court said Celestia did something to her memory, made her forget Him, but how, or if it is even true that the pure Princess of the Sun could do something so vile to her sister, no one would dare come forth to accuse her.” The Commander turned away, stilling his anger at last, worn from the retelling of the tragic tale. “Oh how the mighty sun she doth fall,” he muttered bitterly.

They fell silent for several minutes, sharing water from a canteen, waiting for the rest of the army to clear the rocky terrain and catch up with them at the front line. Finally, True Aim recalled something of the story that still gnawed him, something he simply had to ask.

“But He - died?” the unicorn archer breathed, unable to comprehend how Prince Sombra had survived to be there now. He sighed, his head spinning from learning more about their Sovereign in a few moments of conversation than the sum total of public knowledge available about Him! “Forgive me, Blade, I just have to know, ” he said, looking back to the Commander. “You were saying about Lake - “

Aim froze, meeting the green-tinged, unfeeling gaze of King Sombra in the pony's eyes.

“True Aim, what is your status?” the Shadow Pony's hollow voice inquired.

The archer bowed, hiding his fear that he had almost mentioned a topic to the King that would have meant his execution. “We are en route to the Marazon camp, my King! The terrain has been difficult, so the Commander sent Sure Step ahead to alert us to their movements.”

“Has he returned?”

“Not yet, mi'lord.”

Sombra used Iron Blade's body to look upwards, surveying the land. “I can tell they are already on the move,” He told Aim. “As to which direction, I cannot say with certainty.”

Someone shouted that Sure Step was back and in a moment the scout earth pony was at their side, bowing before the King. “Your Highness.”

“Your report, Sure Step.”

“The Marazons are on the move, Sire. All three land directions have signs of their passage. I cannot tell which is the true route of their escape.”

Sombra nodded. “Throwing us off their scent. I expected this.” He turned slightly, as if talking to Himself. “Commander, you know what to do.”

The glow fading from his eyes, Iron Blade nodded. “Yes, my King.” He turned to Sure Step, all signs of King Sombra's presence gone. “How far to their former encampment?”

“Not far, sir,” Sure replied, indicating the direction he came from. “We can reach it within the hour.”

“Good. First, have the Lieutenants of the divisions assemble to me at once. We will send out the fliers as soon as we reach our destination, but we wish to give them certain instructions that will hopefully aid them in this accursed fog. Dismissed.”

Iron Blade watched the scout go, noting True Aim's posture sag with relief at his side. He smiled wickedly, laughed and slapped the archer hard on the back. “You dodged an arrow through the throat on that Lake Evershine remark, you stupid bastard. Still want to get nosy about the King's personal life?”

Aim shuddered. “No, no sir. I'm good!” he quickly replied.



“I hate that guy,” True Aim snorted, staring at the Lieutenant of their Pegasus squad.

Iron Blade didn't have to turn to see who the lead archer was talking about, hearing the stallion's loud, boasting voice from across the abandoned Marazon encampment. “Who? Night Bomber?”

“Of course,” Aim huffed, annoyed. “and I hate how his stallions gather around him like adoring colts, hanging on his every word!”

The archer jumped slightly as he was poked by Blade's hoof at his shoulder. “And of course you did not do the same with your squadron leader when you first joined the army,” the Commander teased.

“Phfft! Quick Shot deserved our respect,” the unicorn replied, bored of staring at Bomber's boastful displays, turning back to the braggart. “He was Prince Sombra's fastest archer back in their youth.” He tossed his head in lightly veiled contempt towards the Lieutenant. “That one just shoots his muzzle off and brags how many Marazon sex slaves he's going to take for himself.”

Blade nodded, pursing his lips. “He was the one who pinpointed the exact location of their encampment from the only clue they left behind.”

“Huh, any stallion could have picked up on the scent of a mare in heat,” True dismissed. “We got lucky. They hid their encampment exceptionally well otherwise.”

“If it's any consolation, my friend, he will be allotted as many mares as he earns, like all of us.”

“I'll bet that galls him, too. He just doesn't show it.”

Iron Blade glanced around, seeing the last of the returning pegasi squadron had finally joined them. “He could take a lesson from our Majesty. He has come for only one. And though His Majesty will also end up with their Queen – a great prize indeed – He might just execute her as easily take her back with us. It's the prophetic witch He cares more about.” Leaping up onto several fallen trees, he drew his sword with his magic, throwing it down into the center of the milling crowd. Several stallions closer to the weapon than they felt comfortable about, drew back and settled in for the meeting. Everyone else took their cue and sat on their haunches, expectant and at attention.

“Forgive my interruption of your slave tally, Night Bomber,” he said loudly. Many snickered at this. “I do not believe there are as many Marazon wenches in their entire nation as I heard you number off will be added to your harem.”

Harsh laughter erupted, several same-ranked stallions bumping the pegasus's flanks.

“It's that overactive nose of his,” someone yelled from within the crowd. “He always smells more heat than there really is and thinks he's the cause of it!”

Iron Blade let them have their jest. It was important for morale to let them blow off steam once in awhile. They were all under quite a bit of pressure to perform optimally in battle, especially with their King present. He retrieved his sword, letting the sight of it hovering for a moment over the crowd draw their attention back to him. Satisfied they were settled back down, he floated the sword back to himself, sheathing it at his side. “Bomber, I would like good news to report back to His Majesty,” his voice turned all business.

Bomber cantered forward into the center of the circle of stallions, tossing his dark mane and snorting. After a few turns for show, he faced Iron Blade. “The ground support was an inspired idea,” he declared. “They allowed us to cover their tracks much more thoroughly and negotiate our way back with ease.”

“Here it comes. The horse manure,” Sure Step muttered to True Aim, having trotted up to his side right before the Commander had called them to attention.

“I can smell it from here,” the archer nodded.

“We are pleased you were able to find your way home, Lieutenant,” Blade looked down, inspecting his hoof armor, bored. “And - ?” His sharp gaze returning to the stalling squadron leader.

The pegasus drew his wings in slightly tighter to his body, a sign to Blade and those who knew the bragging stallion well, that he was nervous. “Another run is needed, Commander. A longer one to discern if the tracks run out - “

“Lieutenant?”

Bomber paused, his eyes dilating slightly more. “Yes sir?”

“Are you telling us these Marazon 'wenches' as you called them...these 'pretty warriors' are so adept at hiding their backtracks that your own trackers cannot catch the falsehoods within them?”

“To be fair, Commander,” the pegasus slightly more than muttered. “we are on unfamiliar ground. There is so much animal life in this area, the mares have somehow mingled their tracks with those of similarly sized creatures we have never encountered before.”

“And how much time do you plan to ask the King for to make up for this learning curve entailing the local fauna?” Iron Blade asked pointedly.

The pegasus Lieutenant visibly paled. “Sir?”

Blade shrugged. “Well, I am not a tracker, neither am I a pegasus, therefore I am not qualified to answer His questions as to your failures or requests for more time. Therefore, it will be yourself who shall be giving Him the report, Night Bomber.”

A visible sheen of sweat cropped up on the Lieutenant's brow, all traces of ego trampled by Iron Blade's news. “But Sir - “

“Consider the report given, Commander,” Sombra's dark voice echoed from the back of the assembly.

All heads bowed deeply and the way was quickly parted for the King as He strode forward, His high steps and measured gait putting Night Bomber's earlier display to shame. Coming to stop in front of the slightly trembling pegasus squadron leader, He regarded him for a moment, letting him sweat, the taste of his fear stimulating His senses, increasing His powerful presence among the stallions.

“How much time will be required to discern their true direction, Night Bomber,” He asked His Lieutenant.

“At least another two to four hours, Your Majesty,” the fearful stallion replied, knowing it was utterly useless to lie to his King.

The pause in which his news was considered, ate away at his nerves. Then finally he heard the Shadow King grunt. “The days here may be longer this far from our Kingdom, but that is time we cannot waste chasing they who are not our primary focus.” He looked to Iron Blade who jumped from his high perch and trotted over to King Sombra. “Would you not agree, Commander?”

“We need not chase them, Sire. Once we have the witch you seek - “ he nodded.

“They will come to liberate her,” He nodded, fangs unsheathed, pleased Iron Blade followed His logic, as he always did. “So, we must focus on the Seeress's most likely position,” Sombra paced, Night Bomber forgotten for the moment. The Unicorn King looked up, scanning His army. “Where is Terrain?”

A hardy palomino stallion with a parchment map for a cutie mark came forward, bowing. “At your service, your Highness.”

“You are the sole survivor of both last campaigns, correct?” their King asked.

“I am, Sire.”

Sombra pointed his horn towards the space above them, lighting up a swirl of dark magic. From within the small vortex, the sound came of crashing waves against the ocean. “Does this sound familiar?” he asked the earth pony.

Terrain listened, closing his eyes. They popped open after a moment of intense concentration. “Coast...ocean, but more turbulent than this placid bay,” he said from instinct and stream of consciousness. “Waves smashing against...sharper, rockier contours than anywhere near here.”

“You were south of this position at one point, were you not, Terrain?” Iron Blade asked.

“Yes, yes, sir!” the stallion said, eyes lighting up. “The coast grows softer, sandier for at least three days journey.”

“The north,” Sombra and Iron Blade said at once.

“Break camp, Commander,” their dark pony leader instructed. “we head north.”

Everyone scrambled to carry out their King's bidding.
> 4. Getting to Know Each Other
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Earlier that morning, as the crystal army and its leader gazed over the bay and discussed battle tactics...

The pegasus scout division were still asleep, enjoying the last few moments of rest before the warriors were due to rise and begin the day. Three females – Fly Away, Sky Wind and Cloud Rider were clustered together for each other's body warmth, their wings making a canopy over their heads, interlocked as a makeshift shelter against the early morning fog's damp and cold. Every day on missions away from home found the trio like this; they ate, flew, exercised and slept together every moment and few of the Marazon's division were closer. Queen Ainippe praised them as being the most effective of her scout teams for these reasons, giving them even more incentive beyond their close bonds to watch each other's backs during dangerous assignments.

Deep in this slumber, they did not notice the silent, deadly dark cloud of evil that entered their camp, carrying out its promised to Captain Iron Blade to “keep their enemy occupied”.

The dark wraith flowed between the clusters of sleeping Marazon warrior mares, searching, reaching out for the scent of that special, untapped fear that could be fanned into the flames of terror. Terror that could serve Him in the heat of the battles to come. 

It was not long before He found His first victim.

Within the quiet, sheltered sanctuary of peaceful slumber afford by the safety of her Marazon pegasai sisters, Fly Away stirred uneasily, shivering as a cold breeze and darkness flowed over and into her subconscious...

The King of Fears settled into His new, temporary home within the mare's mind with a natural, practiced ease revealing of His Umbrum heritage and His pacts with Darkness. Others gifted with such powers, not born into them, could practice their art until the end of time itself and still never achieve the fluid dexterity with which King Sombra insinuated Himself into such primal landscapes as populated a pony's soul. It was where He was at home most when in His shadow form and where He ultimately did the most devastating damage to His unfortunate victims.

For this mare, searching for her terrors would be unnecessary as her already unsettled dream scape would give Him the clues to what frightened her the most. Deep-seated fears often cropped up in the early morning hours, starting out as smaller fears that led like stepping stones to progressively stronger and deeper fears that, if left unchecked, could potentially plunge their victims into sheer madness.

The King would not require madness this early morning. He needed functional, sleeping cells of walking, untapped fears that could be unleashed at His whim on the battlefield by a simple trigger word or action. One he would plant personally himself.

So for now, while their Queen planned tactics and planted guards against the shadowy essence that had fled her bird scout and the council meeting, He was here amongst her army, unseen but definitely not unfelt.

For this one, her dream of flying over the enemy, His crystal army, was easy to tweak with the trigger of a future event.

It had started out innocently enough. Fly Away and her two sister scouts were on a mission, heading over the land towards King Sombra's troops to the North. While she felt happy and free in their natural element of the open skies, there was a linger anxiety and fear of what they would encounter once the spotted the crystal army. This was the sensation that had drawn the King of Fear to her in her slumber.

“Fly Away, c'mon, you slow poke!” Sky Wind teased, pulling slightly more ahead.

“Hey, that's not fair!” she protested, also good-naturedly, altering her speed to catch up.

“A bit slow, are we?” a voice mocked her, coming from Cloud Rider's direction.

“What?” Fly asked, turning to her Marazon sister. The voice had not been hers, had even sounded like a stallion's, which of course was impossible as it was only the three mares flying in formation with no enemy in sight. “Did you hear that? It sounded like a – a stallion's voice!”

“Hearing things as well,” Sky Wind shook her head. “Whirlwind was never such high maintenance.”

“Sky?” Fly Away was shocked. “you promised you'd never mention Whirlwind again. You know how I hate - “

“How good she was?” Rider piped up.

“How promising she was,” Sky jabbed.

“Stop it!” Fly snapped, her emotions becoming brittle in the unchecked landscape of the subconscious. “it's not funny anymore!”

“It never was,” her friends echoed, drawing slightly ahead again. 

“Try to keep up,” Cloud taunted and scolded at the same time, sounding like Fly Away's father, always berating her for being the slowest in the top percentile of her flying class. “You wouldn't want us to get shot because you can't cover our flanks,would you?”

“If it'd shut you up!” Fly Away snapped, furiously.

Sombra smiled at the deep-seated jealousy and anger this one kept at bay buried in her psyche. This would be so easy...

Feeling the satisfying influx of power at her submission to his manipulation, the Umbrum took a hand in the dream further, creating the illusion of his army below them. Waiting until Fly Away was sufficiently behind, he caused one of the dream mares to be stabbed through by arrows shot by his unicorn archers.

“CLOUD!” Fly Away screamed, watching in horror as her friend was struck, banking sideways from the force of the impact and finally spiraling down towards the ground.

Sky Wind turned, shock on her face, to Fly Away. “I can't believe you said that!” she cried. “Cloud died hearing your last words wishing her dead!”

Fly Away sobbed. “No! I didn't mean it!”

Sky was suddenly thrust upwards, but banked downward again. At first Fly thought she had caught a particularly vicious updraft that had thrown her off course. That is, until she saw the blood staining her withers, dripping down her leg from red crystal shards embedded in her throat.

She was the next to fall, Fly screaming her name as she plummeted towards the ground.

Satisfied, the Shadow King left the twitching, shivering mare, her green-tinged, violet bleeding eyes already fading back to normal as the dark blur of Sombra's form split into a dozen more tendrils, each one insinuating themselves into their hosts to continue their work.

Later, back at the Marazon Temple of the Moon...

Last we saw...

The Shadow that was Sombra's extension of consciousness settled down, opting for patience, melting into its fellow shadows at the corners of the room, waiting for another scent of food.

Nyx came back to consciousness slowly, at last free from the pain and the hallucinogenic properties of the violent time shift she had experienced. “Ohhh...” she winced at the memory. “I am not looking forward to that – whenever that happens! Well, you know what they say, Charon, what doesn't kill a Marazon...” she looked around.

“...makes her...” She was alone. Rising, she glanced around the room. “stronger?” she finished, confused.

No Charon. 

“Charon?” the Marazon trotted into the other temple rooms.

Sensing movement, the shadows in the corners of the room followed.

Nyx padded quietly throughout the expansive temple, through the baths, the inner sanctum, the dragonfly pond scrying room. Still, her keeper was nowhere to be seen. 

Neither was the long shadow that slipped in from the other room, following her.

Dipping her nose over the calm body of water, she studied her reflection in its mirrored surface. She was still herself – black fur, silvery, fog-like mane framing her face, its sparkle fractured by the water disturbed by the temple dragonflies as they chased and played with each other upon its surface. Clicking to the insects, she tracked one as it hovered closer, level with her muzzle. She lifted a hoof and it alighted, perching on its silver shod surface. “Oh, you are a beauty, aren't you?” she cooed to it. “For your simple existence, my friend, I would give half my remaining days,” she snickered. “and I can tell you exactly how many that'll get you, too.”

The insect buzzed at her in agreement. “It's a deal then,” she nodded. “as soon as I can figure out how to turn into a dragonfly.” She looked into the pond's surface. “You can have my life, my armor, my steel and gray crown and its - “ she peered harder into the water. “its – red crystal cabochon?” she finished slowly.

The shadows slid across the room, behind the Marazon TimeWitch, gathering themselves, slowly rising, sensing growing fear, homing in on it. Nyx, oblivious, peered closer at her reflection, lost to the sudden agitation of all the dragonflies in the room as they clustered together - an iridescent swarm of living colors.

“I wear neither armor, nor is my jewel red. It's blue,” she murmured, fascinated. “And is that,” her hoof going to the reflection before her. “a choker? No a collar. How odd.” 

Leaning closer, she ducked just as the shadowy essence behind her struck, homing in on the signal of fear it sensed... 

...The fear of the dragonflies poised on the other side of the pond from her.

The rush of the mass over her and the sudden glittering movement caused her to look up, her eyes wide in surprise at the dark essence that swallowed up her insect companions. The memory came rushing back to her from before she had blacked out. 

I will sing your funeral dirge in the enemy's camp.

“The King of Shadows,” she whispered, watching as the mass thinned and the insects, terrified, scattered in all different directions, confusing Sombra's senses.

The twinge of fear she had felt at being startled, then realizing what had almost gotten her, caused it to turn in her direction. Now this was a larger source of fear – and had the same scent as before, it realized. 

Nyx, for reasons of her own, lost her fear to an intense fascination at the black, smoke-like essence before her. “Is this what you are? Is this what you look like? Oh...” she whispered. “is it you?”

The darkness poised, losing the scent, but sensing something was close by, attracting its  attention.

“Is it?” she repeated in a soft voice.

Why had she expected a reply, she wondered, watching it's efforts to find her. By her estimates and the reports from the Marazons, the Empire's army, and its King, were still a good day's journey away. Extending Himself this far must be an enormous strain and how could He have any real grasp of consciousness or sentience as well? 

Slowly and carefully, keeping her thoughts as calm and neutral as possible so as not to agitate it, she got comfortable on the edge of the pond, never taking her eyes from it. This was just like taming a wild beast, she told herself. “Okay, this is where we get to know each other,” she whispered. “I'm guessing you're not very – lucid at this point. That at a hundred miles away, your perception's limited, otherwise you would have just grabbed me and ignored Charon.” She tilted her head in curiosity. “And since you're not reacting to my voice, I would say you have limited physical senses as well, beast. How much do I dare do before you take an active notice in me?

“But then, how did you know to go after her and not me? What was it you were homing in on? Was it her body temperature? Not movement, or you would have swallowed me up by now.”

In its search, the wraith moved closer to the center of the room, closer to her. “Could you have simply not been able to sense or grasp me when I was pinned by that vision?” she wondered, but then something occurred to her. “But how could you have? I was not even completely here, was I? I was stuck in another, future reality,” Nyx nodded. “That must have been it, right?” she smiled.

Thinking she had had it figured out, she was left to wonder at it's form once again, marveling. “So, this is what you really look like.” So close she could touch it now, she reached out, passing her hand through it. It of course had no body temperature, but it did feel warmer than the surrounding air. It was thicker than fog, as if this darkness could be a blanket that enfolded physical items, could hold and touch. Having blacked out before she saw it grab and kill Charon, she could not have known her theory was right about its ability to do such things. It moved on, flowing back towards the door slowly, tendrils reaching out, still searching for its prey.

Nyx sighed, relieved. Shaking her head, she turned back to the indoor pond, gazing back at her reflection. “Back to normal. I would rather stick with my own attire, thank you. I do not look good in a slave collar,” she said humorlessly. She glanced back at the retreating cloud. “And you scared away my insect friends you annoying - “ her voice faded, realizing something.

It had gone after the dragonflies. They had been scared of the shadow. Just like Charon. It wasn't because of her shifting ability, she realized with a start. It was because of fear - 

The shadows turned back to the room, sensing the fear that had accompanied her eye-opening realization.

“Oh, crap baskets!” she cursed as it floated closer, gathering itself into a single mass before her. Taking a step back, she slipped on the wet tile surrounding the pond and yelped, feeling herself lose her balance and fall into the pond.

Her sudden fear at falling was like a rubber band snapping. The mass lunged forward in the blink of an eye, but too late to catch her as she plunged into the deep water. 
> 5. Fall of the Arrogant and Narrow Escapes
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Marazon Encampment to the South -

“Stay still, Fly,” the prone mare heard above her. “I just have a few more to remove.” Another shard came out and the pegasus tried her best not to scream, but this one was deep. She managed to make it sound more like a growl of anger than the searing pain of having their enemies deadly projectiles being removed from the tender underside of her body between her wing and rib cage. The sound of crystal chimed against the edge of a ceramic bowl while the healer's two assistants around them performed their assigned jobs. One swabbed Fly Away's wounds down with a painkiller and antibiotic herbal wash while the other pressed on the mare's body in specific areas to ease pain and stimulate her immunity and healing. It bothered their physician that as skilled as her assistants were and with all the tools they had to ease pain, her patient was still experiencing so much discomfort. There appeared to be absolutely no reason for it!

“The creature that did this is a monster!” Healing Touch snarled while she worked. “How could he hit a high-flying object with such accuracy when she was flying so erratically and was so distant at the time?”

“Our own archers are nearly as skilled,” one assistant reminded her. “We just don't see their casualties because they are not of our own sisters.”

“Maybe,” Healing muttered, going after another shard. “But these hits had been caused with an uncanny, unnatural accuracy.” She looked at the assistant with a slightly reprimanding tone. “You forget how long I have been in the field with our Queen.” She looked to her patient. “Fly Away, are you sure you don't want to be put to sleep for this?”

The sweat-soaked mare looked like she had been through Tartarus and back, her eyes sunken and dark from lack of a restful morning, stolen away by Sombra's nightmares and now this. “We can't,” she refused. “I have to be ready when we leave and that's as soon as the Queen and Council return.”

“We have gurneys,” the same assistant who spoke before offered. “you will be too tired to make the journey and no one expects you to either fly nor walk after this.”

“You know the injured are held to the back of the advance to protect them, Fly,” the physician firmly reminded her. “The Queen may even send you further South to our sister's villages among the tree dwellers.”

“No!” the damaged pegasus protested. “When her Highness returns, I will ask to stay with the army. I want to see this King taken down for what He did to us!”

Physician and assistants traded glances. “Fly,” Touch spoke as she worked on the last few crystal shards. “you are normally so level-headed in battle. I know this is a horrible thing losing your sisters, but remember your training, your discipline and the meditations. They'll help.”

“Not against this,” she cried, growing agitated again. “You didn't see HIM! I knew this was coming – I KNEW IT!”

Healing Touch nodded to one mare to cease the acupressure treatment and hold Fly Away firmer as the last shard was removed. She also nodded to another to get her a bottle of another tincture and a cloth. “What do you mean you knew, Fly?” Healing asked.

“I – knew. I think I had a vision, a dream, something I saw,” she gasped. “He was there. The same feel of evil was present. We were flying, they both were hit in the same spots as in the dream!” She cried as the last shard was removed, but it was a weak, tired cry, during which Healing took the tincture-soaked cloth and swabbed her patient's wounds one final time.

The three attending mares looked at each other in concern. Visions were to be taken seriously and this sounded like something not to be ignored if it were true. It would, however, have to wait as the final solution they were putting on their patient was a strong enough anesthetic it radiated out from the wounds into Fly's blood and fully dampened the pain, allowing the exhausted mare to succumb to her desperate need to sleep.

Healing Touch gestured to her staff to remove the flyer to a place to rest and recover, shaking her head. She would have to report this to Queen Ainippe as soon as possible.


Hours Earlier with the Crystal Army -

The army advanced as soon as they broke camp, heading as instructed back north, retracing their route back to the bay. King Sombra led, as always, with Captain Iron Blade at his side and five of their six Lieutenants immediately behind. Sombra and Blade conferred at the base of the rocky climb back up. The Captain motioned behind him, calling, “Gale Force?”

A pale blue pegasus with a tornado as a cutie mark galloped up to them. He saluted smartly. “You Highness, Captain. I am at your command.”

“Tell Night Bomber to rotate your flyers down to ground to save their strength for engagement with the Marazons, Lieutenant,” Iron Hoof instructed.

Sombra looked up, seeing six flyers above in two circles – one smaller, encompassing the space above the army, the other slightly higher, on reconnaissance, in an ever-widening pattern that periodically shrank back inwards towards the smaller one. Such freedom they had up there, he admired, briefly yearning to join them. In his shadow form it would be possible, but the new recruits had not seen him yet as such and he was concerned they were not yet ready to experience him in his natural state. He frowned, recalling the harsh lesson in the field that had taught him that so many years ago.

“Sire, are you okay?” Blade asked, seeing his King's moodiness.

'Yes, Commander,” the Umbrum nodded. He cut any explanation short as the earth pony Terrain trotted up, bowing before them. “Terrain,” he acknowledged.

“Your Highness, if I may make an observation that might be of benefit,” the scout began...



High above, Night Bomber looked down at the head of the advance, scowling. “What is that suck-up plotting?” he huffed.

“Sir?” asked his wing stallion.

“Look at that,” he motioned with his muzzle downward. “It's bad enough Iron Blade calls Gale Force to the King's side while I'm stuck up here, now Terrain is there as well. Force is just a Second Lieutenant. I should be the one down there, at their side!”

“Yes sir,” the pegasus nodded. It was no use talking Night Bomber out of such rantings, he had long ago learned. Better to just let him vent up here, safely out of their earshot.

The Lieutenant turned his head quickly away and rode the air currents with as much grace as his jealousy would allow when the ground party including the four stallions looked up to their position. “I should be down there, making up for that farce in the camp. Blade has it in for me!”

“Yes sir.”

Gale Force took off from the front of the line and was heading their way. “Ah, this should be interesting,” Bomber nodded as his second caught up with them.

“Lieutenant,” the newly arrived pegasus saluted.

“Yes, Force, what is it?” the arrogant flyer tried to sound bored despite his burning curiosity.

“We have new orders, sir. Blade requests your presence while I inform the troops,” Gale reported.

Bomber's scowl returned. Below the army could now be seen advancing over the rocky terrain, back up to the plains bordering the hills leading back to the bay. He hated getting his well-polished hooves and armor scuffed and dusty down with the earth division when his flyers would be cleanly over this filthy obstacle within a matter of minutes above them. Why were they choosing now to ground him? He sighed. “Very well, but tell me the orders first, Lieutenant. I want to know what I am flying into before I take audience with Blade and His Majesty.”



“He hates that, you know, Sire.”

Sombra didn't bother looking up at the approaching Pegasus. “I know.”

“If Night learned a little humility, you would not harass him so,” Blade smiled. “dragging him down here with us earth-bound creatures.”

“You are so sure of that, Commander?” the King asked, a slight grin on his features.

“I am, my friend,” Blade smiled back. “doesn't mean I want you to stop, though.”

“Yes?”

“The bastard deserves it,” Blade's grin grew.

“Arrogance breeds mistakes, Blade, as we were so prone to in our youth.”

The Commander threw his head back and laughed. “Don't I remember! The only thing that drove it home was the butt of a sword bashed into my helmet and skull at Kaijeiri.”

Sombra permitted himself the laugh with his friend before Night Bomber touched down, then the mask of King and Supreme Leader snapped back into place once again. It almost fell a second time watching the nearly comical way the Lieutenant tried to side canter with them and bow at the same time as they went over the tricky field of loose granite rocks.

Iron Blade did snicker, but Bomber missed it as he bowed, addressing them. “I am at your service, my King, Commander!” He then quickly turned to face the army's advancing direction before he seriously tripped and landed on his plot.

“Terrain has a novel idea for a formation the pegasai can assume that will perhaps be more intimidating to the enemy,” Blade told him. “Something he learned while observing them during their food gathering hunts.” The Commander glanced back at King Sombra.

“It is an intriguing idea and could serve us well when the time comes,” Sombra agreed. “Train the flyers in this method Terrain passed on to Gale Force. Create a signal to implement it when instructed and inform us of what it is at the next meeting of the Lieutenants.”

“Yes, your Highness,” Bomber bowed. “If I may?”

“Yes, what is it, Night?” Blade answered for the King.

The pegasai balked at the Commander taking away his opportunity to speak directly with the King, but did not dare outwardly protest. “It is a stationary maneuver that requires the army be stopped, sir. When will we be able to practice it?”

“As soon as we reach the bay, Lieutenant,” Sombra answered.

“Uh, Sire, the updrafts from the onshore wind flow may throw off our formation,” he cautiously ventured. “and with the marine layer heavy in the morning, we are unsure whether it returns in the later day or evening.”

“Talk to Terrain about it, Bomber,” Blade shrugged him off. “He knows this land's weather patterns best. Work out with him when best to stop the army's advance and report back to me immediately.”

“Yes – yes, sir!” Bomber bowed to them both and went off to find Terrain, who by now had fallen back to join the earth stallion's troop. Iron Blade looked back occasionally to see what was taking Night Bomber so long to get his answer and report back to him. The Lieutenant had gestured for his second in command to join him from the air, so now all three were conferring. Iron Blade caught his King grunting in amusement.

“He is not completely without sense, but still, best to keep an eye on him. Gale Force is proving himself more competent each day. He may yet take his place.” They both glanced back to where it was apparent Night Bomber was arguing with Gale over something. Returning to concentrating on the uneven ground of their climb, Sombra caught Blade frowning at the lack of respect the pegasus leader obviously garnered with his stallions.

“Perhaps you should arrange for a little denting of that one's skull, my friend. For the army's sake, of course,” Sombra indicated with a smirk.

Blade laughed.



Luckily Nyx had taken a lungful of breath before she fell into the water. Driven down to its bottom by the force of her own body weight, she groped for a way to stay there, reaching out until she connected with a deeply-rooted fresh water plant. She grabbed its base desperately to hang on for fear of resurfacing with the shadow above her now showing it knew where she was and how badly it wanted her. Wide-eyed, she watched the thing above searching, moving restlessly back and forth over the pond, confused as to where she had gone.


The smoky essence felt the drop in the physical floor only vaguely, letting itself spill into the space. It connected with another surface, the water, and could go no further. It still felt fear, was still being drawn to get past the surface, but the barrier of the pond prevented it.


'C'mon, you wretched excuse for a storm cloud!' Nyx cursed at it. 'I can't stay down here all day!' Pushing her fear aside in favor of focusing on a way out, she looked around her for anything she could use as a weapon, or any means of escape available to her. There was nothing. The temple pool was fed by a water source whose aqueduct system was too long for her to get through before she would run out of air and drown. The only thing she could do, she realized, was put herself in a trance to use less oxygen and wait the creature out. It would buy her precious little more time, but she had no choice.

Securing her wrist and ankle firmly to the kelp she was clinging to so she could maintain her depth, the Seeress quickly turned her attention inward, silently reciting the mantras that would slow her body's growing need for air.



Clear of the jagged, granite field, the crystal army picked up the pace, heading back towards the forests beyond the plains they were now on.

It was not long after that the Commander started noticing Sombra's distant look, and now there was a sudden laxness in his usual, crisp gait. He slowed enough the Lieutenants behind had to adjust their pace and like a ripple, the advancing army behind them compensated. “Sire?” he asked.

“Close,” Sombra muttered, trance-like. “I am close to her, Blade.” His voice was darker than usual, heavily echoed. “something is preventing me from reaching her.” His eyes flared green and he stopped dead. “Too far to see what...” he shook his head as he poured more of his power into the connection. The Commander was not surprised to see Sombra's body grow more transparent underneath the armor. “a barrier...”

“Incoming!” someone yelled from just behind the Lieutenant’s line, pointing to the skies. “Bomber, behind you!” they warned.

The wave of reaction and sudden emotion partially pulled the Shadow King out of his trance. He growled in protest, growing solid again. He was so close to the Marazon. He could have her!

Distantly he heard Iron Blade report there were three pegasai Marazon scouts approaching and he recognized the number from the first fear-inducing dream he had taken one of their sleeping army with just hours before. With great reluctance, Sombra recalled his shadow's essence from the lunar temple, drawing it back into himself. Once done, he took a moment to reground, then follow Iron Blade's gaze to the skies above and to the east.

“Iron Blade, I wish to send the Marazons a message,” Sombra instructed. “get the archers to the front line immediately!”

The Commander called and yelled for the unicorn archers including True Aim, to come forward. As they scrabbled to do so, the rest of the battalion waited for instructions, preparing their weapons and watching the scenario play out above.

Night Bomber had been caught unawares, but the outer pegasai line made up for it, racing to head the enemy scouts off as they began to turn to flee. Gale Force took advantage of the more turbulent, faster upper air currents, flying higher, getting ahead of them under the cover of some scattered clouds and diving back down on two of the closest pegasai mares. Looking down to the front lines, he caught a signal from Iron Blade telling him to drive them closer to the army, but not attack, and changed his tactics instantly to comply.

Below, the unicorn archers dove to their position, surrounding their King and his second in command, bows and arrows at the ready. “Wait,” Sombra instructed them personally. “They will come closer. The lagging one will catch up. At my command, fire at the closest two. Kill them, but the last one is mine.” He licked his lips, tracking their movements with a sharp, practiced eye, the thrill of the hunt coming back to his instincts effortlessly. “Yes, little one,” he smiled grimly. “You remember this, I see. Slow, but not beneath our notice...FIRE!” he commanded.

High above, the front two pegasai mares were fatally struck, the arrows aims enhanced by Sombra's dark magic. Their screams were faint, lost to the excited chatter of the archers below at their success. The slower pegasai sped up to try to help her sisters. Sombra tracked her carefully. “True Aim, just you,” he instructed. “target her wing, but only to wound. I want her to carry word back to her army.”

“Aye Sire,” the archer replied, using his magic to draw his bow back and track her movements along the shaft of his arrow. He smiled briefly at the dark aura the King attached to the bow and arrow to ensure its power and his aim, then returned quickly to his target's trajectory above.

In the meantime, King Sombra's horn glowed the red of his natural talent's magics, producing sharp, red crystals to both sides of him. They turned, aiming for the flyer. The mare was not watching her grounded enemy, too busy dodging attacking enemy pegasai who had a harder time with their smaller, more agile counterpart. She, however, was alone and would have no chance against both their threat and this new attack. “Fire!” he commanded quietly.

True Aim let fly his arrow, watching in awe, as the rest of the army did, tracking the deadly red crystal barrage that flew with it from the hoof of their King, towards the airborne mare. Her sudden, jerking movements told them she was hit. “Good work, Aim,” he complimented. Nodding in approval as she frantically banked east to flee, he called up to Night Bomber, seeing the Lieutenant was changing direction to pursue. “Let her go, Lieutenant,” Sombra called, then turned to continue the march north.

“Night Bomber! Stand down!” Iron Blade called up, noting the pegasai was still in pursuit of the Marazon flyer. Whether Bomber lacked sense or sanity or was the victim of a serious deficit of judgment, he disobeyed the order and flew after the lone pegasai. Sombra's surprise at the open rebellion against his and Blade's commands faded quickly, replaced by growl of anger. His reasons for letting the pegasus go were part of a bigger strategy and never to be questioned by his troops, even a Lieutenant!

The Lieutenant continued on, unheeding, seeing the opportunity to claim a prize for his King and win back some favor. It was obvious to the two leaders what the senseless stallion was trying to accomplish. “I will have his wings clipped for this!” Blade yelled, furious.

“Let me do the honors for you, Commander,” Sombra snarled, taking aim again as several black crystals, larger and nastier looking that the red ones he had used earlier, appeared above him.

As Gale Force gave the retreat whistle above them, he saw the glow of Sombra's black aura gathering force below and could guess what the unicorn was preparing to do. “SCATTER!” he yelled to his flyers. He was diving out of the way himself when he heard a choked scream behind him after feeling the rush of air pass over his back. The crystals narrowly missed him and savaged Night Bomber's right wing. The foolish pegasai Lieutenant struggled to control his descent as he fell close to where the two Marazon advance scouts had landed back to ground.

The Shadow King narrowed his eyes at the falling figure. There was nothing worse in his army than outright disobedience, save for treason and spies. The Lieutenant was done as far as his career was concerned. Disgusted, he snorted, “Get Bomber out of my sight, Blade. I will examine the Marazon scouts personally. Have Terrain join - “

“My King, what of the witch at the temple?” Blade asked, his eyes widening at the realization they had forgotten something!

“Blizzards!” Sombra cursed. An unpleasant feeling he was too late hit him like a punch to the gut. Quickly he refocused his dark senses on her presence.

There was no trace. She was gone.

Furious, He slammed a hoof into the ground, the force of the blow and the sharp, black crystals that rose under hoof around them in reaction had the effect of suddenly stopping the mutterings among the archers at their side and the Lieutenants behind him. Their King suddenly shifted into shadow, fueled by anger and frustration. Startled, they backed up further, avoiding the new field of projectiles that grew like grass at their hooves, but wanting more to stay out of the way of the Umbrum's unpredictable anger.

Sombra's pony head formed in front of Iron Blade. Gale Force, who had just joined them, the scout Sure Step and several others who had never seen the demon pony take this form before, stepped back, startled. “Deal with that fool, Commander,” Sombra's voice said in an even deeper, more frightening tone than it usually took. “I must attend to her personally before she is lost to us!”

In an instant, his head dissolved into the rest of his shadow form, the mass of darkness racing over the fields, towards the Temple of the Moon.
> 6. Mirror Lake
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Many years in the past...

“Mirror Lake is quite the sight, is it not, Nyx?”

The young Marazon daughter gazed out from their sheltered cliff face to the valley below. She frowned. “There is a lake there? I still don't see anything. Just redwoods.”

Ainippe smiled. She leaned down to the child barely into her teens. “Of course not,” she agreed. “That is the point of hiding a thing, isn't it?” They were very close to their destination now. Nudging the filly, she urged her to continue following the winding cliff path the rest of the way down to the forest floor. Nyx shrugged and complied, watching her footing, occasionally stealing glances ahead, trying to spot the ever-elusive lake.

Shivering, Ainippe pulled her cloak closer to her against the chill of the ocean breeze and fog coming in from the coast beyond the far lip of the valley's edge. Her young, coal-black bodied daughter seemed not to even notice the weather, her own forest green cape unlined, the hood tossed back against her shoulders. A flick of her magic drew the hood back over Nyx's head, obscuring her vision.

“'Ugh!” the child complained, readjusting it with her own magic so she could see. “I can't see with this thing in my eyes!”

The elder Marazon laughed. “Your head must be too small.”

“No,” Nyx replied. “Quiet Hoof's mom is lazy. She was supposed to adjust it for me.”

“That's not a nice thing to say, Nyx! I will speak to her again about it. In the meantime, we are on a pilgrimage, 'daughter. It shows respect to have the hood in place.”

“Yeah, yeah,” the filly sighed. “Coming of age and all that weird stuff.”

Ainippe bumped her side. “It's not weird. It's traditional. I thought you were excited, especially since Step and her mother are meeting us there for her Coming of Age rite.”

“I am, I guess,” she replied unconvincingly, slipping into a more somber mood.

“What's bothering you, sweetie? Yesterday you were bouncing around so much we practically had to tie you down to your bed to get some sleep.”

Nyx stopped. From where they were, even this far down, Luna's moon was still visible above. She closed her eyes, remembering her dreams from the night before...

It was so cold Nyx could barely move. The wind and snow whipped around her like a savage creature, howling its anger across the frozen wasteland. The tiniest sound not the wind came to her ears and she looked down, surprised to find a black-bodied, silver-maned unicorn infant in the snow.

She tried to pick it up but something prevented her. The filly couldn't make her body move to obey her. 'Maybe it is better if we died,' she caught herself thinking...

Frustrated, all she could manage was to build a snow break around the tiny little life, diverting the wind around her. It didn't stop it from crying, but the Marazon knew it would stop crying soon enough if left out here much longer.

Why can't I help her, she wondered.

This IS helping, a darker part of her mind assured her. She...I...we...shouldn't even exist...

The wind died and the clouds parted above – the moon rising on the western horizon. Still the tiny creature clung to life, its mewling weaker and weaker...

*I'm sorry, Nyx,* Princess Luna said, embracing her. *It's true. But it doesn't mean they love you any less...* The voice of their patron Goddess had been whispered across her bedroom, as well as in her dreams. With a start, she had woken up, finding Luna's soft eyes regarding her almost with pity...

Remembering broke the filly. Tears flooded her eyes, Ainippe saw her sides heave with unvoiced sobs underneath the cloak. “Nyx? What's wrong?” She reached out a hoof to her shoulder.

She shied away from her mother's touch. “I – I don't want to talk about it.”

“We don't do things that way, young mare,” Ainippe said in a gentle but firm voice. “Marazons hold the secrets of nature, but nothing from between a mother and daughter.”

“Oh really?” Nyx said harshly, her black eyes reflecting Luna's orb above them. “That's not what Neris told me!” her voice holding the strange, echoed reverberation it always took on when her temper got the better of her. She wasn't surprised when Ainippe cantered back a step in surprise, but thought it was in reaction to her temper.

“What did she tell you?” the mare's voice held anger at the older council member, but something else the filly had a hard time identifying. Nyx had never heard this tone in her mother's voice before, but it stimulated her senses like no other emotion she had ever encountered, agitating her even more.

The child's gaze traveled up to the moon, then back down to Ainippe. “Luna knew, too. She told me last night.”

“In a dream?” the mare's eyes widened.

“Yes and no. Why are you surprised?” Nyx sniffed. “She visits Marazons all the time in dreams and outside them.” Then it occurred to her. “But this was the first time she came to me...it's true then!”

Ainippe put a hoof out to try to calm the filly down. “Neris had no right to tell you! That was my responsibility, little one. That was what we were here for tonight. It's part of your initiation.”

“I thought I was one of you,” Nyx sobbed, backing away. “A Marazon. I thought - “ she turned and ran full gallop towards the redwoods.

“NYX!” Ainippe cried out, running after her.

The Present

Queen Ainippe sighed and turned away from the lake's surface after casting a pebble to dispel the vision of the awful memory of Nyx running away from her. Meditating at this still emotion-laden place was useless, though she had to try. She had held onto the hope that after so many years away, time and distance had stayed memory's cruel grip on her heart, but where Nyx's special talent was concerned, nothing in the past ever truly died. Especially here.

The other councilmares approached at her signal, Neris among them, of course. Ainippe's deep hatred and resentment of her had dulled with age, but for a decade she had never again been able to look at her without feeling it was her that had destroyed the bond between Ainippe and Nyx, robbing her of what was supposed to have been a beautiful ceremony, as well as the poor girl's sanity. Ever after that day, she had blamed the ambitious, callous eldermare as much as she did herself. Assuming the position of Queen of the Marazons was as much to protect Ainippe's people from Neris as it was her birthright, but the price had been in having to deal with the hateful mare for the rest of her days.

Quiet Hoof took her place by the Queen's side, nodding that all had finished the required meditations in preparation for what they needed to accomplish there. Grateful for the distraction from the bad memories, the Queen took the lead, moving out on the crescent shaped dock, over the placid waters of Mirror Lake. She directed the other eleven to stand with her, five to her left hand, the other six on her right. All charged their horns, lending their power to the Marazon Queen as she chanted words as ancient as the lake itself:

“The moon on the water, its reflection a tide,
Bring us together, to stand side by side,
With those that serve with us, lay great distance aside!”


A glow spread outwards, starting from Ainippe's hooves, sliding off the dock into the waters before her. It pulsed out in the shape of a crescent, laid upon the lake's surface like moonlight, its opening facing the council.

A portion of the moonlight coalesced into the shape of a mare – body black as night and eyes as dark and depthless, with a flowing mane fog-grey, shot through with soft, sparkling light. Her hoof shoes were silver and carried Luna's crescent, but the attire was all wrong.

Quiet Hoof came as close to the edge of the dock as she dared without impeding upon the circle and its magics, staring at the strangely dressed image of Nyx. “What is she wearing?”

Ainippe and the others opened their eyes, taken aback at the silver, polished breastplate, red-jeweled, not blue, headband, strange choker and red cloak across her back. “This makes no sense,” the Queen whispered.

The scout outside their circle caught a smudge of blurred light overhead and looked up. “Your Highness!” she said, startled, gesturing towards the skies. All looked upwards.

Celestia's sun blurred overhead in its movement across the heavens, daytime passing in a moment, replaced by night as the moon and stars did the same. After a few seconds and concerned murmurs, Ainippe and Quiet Hoof glanced back to Nyx's form which now appeared frozen in time, unmoving, unresponsive to their voices or the strange acceleration of time overhead. It dissolved into grey mist, then everything above their heads stopped, slowed, then reversed.

Nyx reappeared, still in the strange dress, but as the wild dance of night and day and heavenly bodies above slowed, the Time Witch once again became dressed in her normal attire. When day returned, Nyx stumbled forward, gasping, her body, mane and tail soaking wet.

Ainippe stepped forward slightly. “Nyx! Are you still at the Temple? Why are you wet?”

“I had to flee,” the Marazon replied, her voice a hollow echo across the hundred miles. “He came for me. Charon is dead. He threw her off the cliff and killed her without a thought or consideration.”

There were shocked murmurs among the councilmares.

She shook herself dry. “It seems He cannot breach water. I took refuge under its surface and He could not come after me.”

“What?” Neris spoke up. “That is ridiculous! Why would that stop Him?”

“He is a being of smoke and shadow - “ the TimeWitch began to explain.

“You mean a thing,” the elder mare shuddered. Ainippe threw her a look of annoyance, but remained silent. “We saw His form among us at the Bay. His speed is faster than the light of day!”

“What attacked me was a mere projection of His power, not his physical self, but He is coming. I can feel it.” She nodded grimly. “And yes, darkness is always ahead of the light.” She looked to Ainippe. “We can never outrun him, mother.”

Ainippe looked at her, nodding. “I know.”

Neris glared at their Queen. “What do you mean, you know?”

“This was never about outrunning him, Neris,” Ainippe declared. “It was – and is about keeping Nyx out of his hooves until we can dissuade or kill him.”

“The closer we get to the future, the less certain I am we can do either,” the TimeWitch declared. “I have never believed and you should not as well.” She looked down a moment. “Especially now having seen what he is,” she said softly.

“If we have to kill every last one of his army off,” Neris spat. “we will do so. Then we will come for him.”

Nyx rolled her eyes. “And how will you do that, Neris,” she asked sarcastically. “How do you kill shadows? Ask Celestia to keep her sun up in the sky forever? There will still be darkness and shadow lurking beyond its reach. The dark was here before the light, shadow ponies its people.”

The elder mare snorted. “Shadow ponies do not exist.”

Both Nyx and Ainippe grunted, suppressing a laugh. “So says the mare who stared into the burning gaze of one!” the TimeWitch mocked. Knowing it was useless to continue debating, she remembered something. “Your Highness,” she looked to the Queen. “He is attracted to fear. His projection ignored me until I felt afraid, then it homed in on me unerringly.”

“Our mares are brave, Nyx,” Ainippe replied. “but this – thing he can become, it pulls at fears much deeper than those found in battle. We are not trained to withstand this.”

The projection of Nyx looked to her left. “I have to go. He's close.”

Neris stepped forward. “How will you escape him?” she asked.

“I can hide a few seconds ahead of this timeline,” she said hastily. “but I will not know how long to stay there, or where to go. I can't stay there forever, even if I did have control over bouncing back here, which I don't!” She sounded a tinge panicked, lost.

The elder mare thought of something. “Not the future! We saw a future projection of you, Nyx. Your dress was not - “

“- as it is now? A cape of red? A steel crown bearing the sign of Luna's moon, but in blood red? I know. I have seen this in my visions as well. I do not know it what means, but I do not believe it is a good sign.” She looked off to her left, then back to the council mares with a look of urgency. “I've got to go!” Her image faded.



At his fastest speed as shadow, it still took King Sombra an hour to reach the Temple of the Moon up the coast from the crystal army's current position. Knowing it was far too late to expect she would still be there, He also knew she could not go far on hoof. If the prophetic witch were anywhere near, He would be able to sense and locate her.

Or so He thought.

The moment His shadowy self touched the balcony overlooking the ocean, He began to reform, his forehooves stepped silently onto the marble, followed by the rest of His self growing solid so when He jumped down to the floor, it was on all fours hooves. He took a moment to confirm what His senses had told Him while still a shadow hovering outside the balcony.

No one was there.

Night Bomber would be the first to pay for this blunder in His delay and pay dearly, He snarled to Himself.

Failing to understand how Nyx could have not only slipped away so quickly, but also be completely and utterly missing from at least a hundred square mile radius, the Dark Pony decided to investigate the temple while there. Perhaps a clue could be found as to where she went and how she had accomplished such a feat with the speed she did.

The temple itself was of a fairly recent construction, no more than a couple of generations old, but the style was from halfway around the world. The Marazons were clearly familiar with Ancient Equus and perhaps had even traveled to Equestria from there to form this colony of wild mares. If so, they were descended from a race with many centuries of fighting blood flowing through their veins. That alone told Him He best not underestimate them, even with superior numbers on His side.

The rooms were sparsely decorated and functional – meditation rooms, a main altar room, a room with an amphitheater seating style to accommodate a large number of ponies – probably for strategy meetings and the last room which He felt a peculiar draw to.

The dragonfly pond room felt vaguely familiar, as if He had seen it or been there before. A cloud of winged insects danced lazily over the waters, but scattered as soon as He entered, sensing the dark, malevolent presence of a predator as had once invaded their home earlier.

“Ah, it was you I sensed before,” He muttered. “You cost me my prize.”

“Only for a short time, my King,” came a mare's soft voice from the doorway.

He whirled around to see a Marazon standing before Him. She was a black-bodied beauty, with a mane as full and flowing as Princess Luna's, but of soft, glittering fog that sparkled with tiny silver particles within its folds. While He took in her manner of garb – the cape, her diadem, the jewels in her shoes, a version of identical coloring and a similar yet feminine breastplate to His own, it was her deep, black, depthless eyes that captured His attention, and even fascinated Him.

She regarded Him with as much attention as He did her, showing neither fear nor an urge to flee, approaching Him slowly, as if knowing a sudden move to either flee or attack was not in her best interest. They circled each other for a moment. “You are - “ He began to ask.

“The one you seek. I am Nyx,” she nodded, stopping in front of Him, causing Him to stop as well. The Umbrum reared back slightly, surprised and taken aback at how lovely she was. It nearly left him speechless.

Nearly.

She further surprised Him by bowing. After a moment of both amusement and hesitation, a flicker of His magic brought her back up to her feet. “I would not expect a mare of the enemy to show me such honor,” He rumbled in an almost pleasant tone.

She cocked her head, giving him the impression of a predator regarding her prey. “Or to be wearing such similar attire?” she said, amused.

“It had not escaped my notice,” He nodded. “Perhaps this is a trap,” He added, narrowing His red eyes at her. “Why else hand yourself over to me so willingly?”

Nyx smiled. “It was not so easy to capture me back now, my dark heart.”

He raised an eyebrow. “A term of endearment? And your phrasing, 'was not'?, 'back now'?” He eyed her intensely. “This is either trickery, duplicity or insanity.” Nyx laughed softly. His senses scanned the room and the cliffs beyond the temple, expecting she was attempting to catch him off guard, but still he found no trace of mare nor stallion for a hundred miles.

“I am tempted to go with the third reasoning,” Sombra started to say and to his surprise, Nyx repeated his words as he said them, and with flawless accuracy.

He watched as the Marazon went to the edge of the pool and sat down, leaning over to gaze into its reflection. She smiled, though he could not see it from where he stood. “And you would not be far off the mark. I was rather – unbalanced then. Now. Time, my time or timeline as I call it, tends to be quite circular.” She looked over her shoulder at her flank, drawing her cloak back, exposing her cutie mark – a black, shadowy serpent coiled into an “O” shape, its own tail clutched in its fanged mouth.

“The ouroboros,” Sombra said absently, easily recognizing the symbol from his training in dark magic. “A rather – peculiar marking of talent,” he replied softly, realizing only then he had wandered closer to her. "It symbolizes the circular nature of the alchemist's opus." he finished.

"Magnus opus," Nyx nodded, the light from the torches in the room sparkled off the surface of her black eyes once she sat down upon the pool's edge and looked up at him. Sombra found it quite - distracting. 

"Great work," Sombra translated, using the memory to refocus his thoughts back to his goal.

"Why thank you," she bowed her head in mock shyness.

"That was not a compliment, but a question," he said neutrally. "What would that have to do with you?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" it was her turn to act distant, her smile betraying her coyness as an act.

He took the last steps, putting her at his hooves. He smiled, liking the look of her there. It was a position she would get used to, he mused in satisfaction.

"I always got the impression you thought of me as YOUR magnus opus. Funny, I also thought that of you, my King."

No longer interested in her ramblings, Sombra drew forth a slave collar with his magic. Nyx drew in a breath as she studied it, but he got the distinct feeling it was not in fear, but in delight though she never said a word. "We will have time to discuss who is who's 'great work', my dear TimeWitch," he replied, lifting her flowing, silken mane as he went to affix the collar around her throat.

"Oh, that won't work," she told him, watching his confused reaction when it fell straight through her and clattered to the floor at his feet as soon as he had affixed it around her. He grasped it in his magic and lifted it, but as soon as he tried again, it crumbled into dust before his eyes.

"You destroyed it in my time, in the future," she answered his unspoken question. "It cannot return with me for it does not exist. However, I will give you one that will - and does." Her liquid black eyes traveled back to his. “Come, I will show you.”

He stood over her, frowning. She was still smiling at Him with a most peculiar, knowing gaze, inclining her head towards the surface of the waters. When he deigned to look into them, she waved a hoof over the pond.

The surface sparkled and shifted. “What have you been told about me, your Highness?” she asked.

“You are a future-seer – and are quite mad,” He replied, amused at the strangely civil discussion they were having, as if this encounter were not going to end with Him taking her captive back to His army.

Nyx laughed. “I was back now. Then,” she corrected herself, giggling. “I was a mess! That much is/was true.”

There was a peculiar shift in her voice that echoed of two words at once - “is” and “was”. It almost sounded like His own voice as others had described it to Him, especially when He was channeling dark magic or was angry. A double echo, betraying the darkness lurking underneath His pony skin.

“And how do you think I arrive at my predictions, my Lord?” she asked, distracting His musing over her strangely attractive vocal cadences.

“You tell me, witch,” He replied, his voice dropping any feel of amusement in favor of cool steel.

She gazed back into the pond's waters. “Sometimes from seeing it, sometimes from living it,” she whispered. “Look.”

Images flashed before them of His past – a tiny colt found in the snow and brought back to the Crystal Empire. Scenes with His new family, including His adopted sister, Amber Leaf. Then his training with the crystal guard as their Royal Guard Captain...running from the outskirts of the city to its castle at its heart, to greet Princess Luna as she took the moon down from the sky for the evening, letting her sister raise the sun.

Then a jump to His conquering the Empire, His travel here, what He assumed to be battles to come on the plains beyond the temple walls. His enslavement of the Marazons – and her.

The Seeress faded the images and stood, stepping back away from the pond to the center of the room. He paced, still attempting to work out what her strategy was. “Why show me this?” He finally asked, coming to a stop again in front of her.

She laughed. “To ensure our future, I suppose, and the bond between us to come. I was thrown here from the future by a temporal anomaly when my current self fled a few seconds into her future to avoid capture in the here and now – by You.” Nyx shook her head. “If only I could tell her it will be worth the trials to come, I would, but she/I is too frightened right now to listen to anypony – even myself.”

He nodded. “She – you, have good reason to be afraid, unfortunately for you. But a 'temporal anomaly'. What is this term?”

She took a step towards Him, but was caught in a wave of dizziness. Sombra caught her in His magic before she hit the ground and held her in His grip. It put them practically nose to nose.

“I am being pulled back, into our future. I don't have much time,” she rested her hooves against his chest plate.

He leaned closer to her, whispering in her ear, “You are not going anywhere, my dear. You are mine.”

She briefly stroked his muscled leg above the greaved plating. “Were that true for my present self, it would save so many lives, so much suffering, for your army as well as mine,” she bowed her head in the same pain echoed in her voice. Then she drew back to look into his green-tinged, purple-edged eyes. “Can you not feel it? The strange energies that shift and make it feel as if I am not really here?”

He did. It was not just the fact he could barely keep a grip on her for her weight would suddenly be half what it started out to be, then fade completely for an instant, then come back suddenly. It was a peculiar tingling – a sense that this close to her he could almost feel time freeze, then start, freeze and lurch forward. It was a sensation he had never experienced before in all his mastery of light and dark magics. “That is 'temporal' in nature?” He asked.

“Yes. Temporal is the energy of time.” Her voice was even more hollow and echoed now. “Here, this is important. Take this,” she asked, removing the consort collar from around her neck. She gave it to him. “Once upon a time, in its beginning, it was your gift to me. Now, by doing this, it no longer has a point of origin. No beginning and never ending.”

“Why give me this,” he asked, puzzled.

“When we meet again, place it around my throat. It will stabilize my powers, prevent me shifting uncontrollably.“ Nyx smiled with unmistakable fondness at him.

She stopped with another wave of dizziness. Sombra's grip faltered on her, then came back, even weaker this time. The TimeWitch smiled half-heartedly, “At least when I am not being drug back into my own, proper time.”

“I do not convince easily, Marazon,” He told her plainly. “you will require more proof than this that you are from the future.”

Nodding, Nyx took his hoof in hers, moved it so he could see the inside of the collar, see what was written there. His red eyes widened and he grunted. “Yet even I must admit this is a – compelling start.”

“I understand,” she shook her head and now He could see more of the room straight through her, even his powerful dark magic unable to keep its grip on her. “More proof? I will give you, my Sombra, if you but promise to not end me in this timeline before giving me a chance to win your heart.”

He leaned closer, whispering, hot breath searing her ear. “I promise nothing, TimeWitch.”

“And yet, I will still give you your proof, my dark love.” Leaning in turn to His ear, she whispered something. He drew back, stunned. “Come to me,” she urged him, fading one last time. “Save us both from a worse fate apart.”
> 7. Illusion's Reality
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Night Bomber trudged dejectedly alongside the rest of the slaves as the crystal army advanced towards the Marazon Temple of the Moon, his shackles digging painfully into his hooves. He shifted his withers for the hundredth time to ease the heavy slave collar, it having already left a deep bruise around his neck.

He looked around. The weather had turned as foul as his mood, the evening's usually clean, white fog a dirty grey, even black...ominous. As Captain Iron Blade trotted past him, he called out, “Blade! Blade, please - “

The Captain slowed, came up to him and backhoofed him viciously across the muzzle. “You lost the privilege to call me that when you disobeyed mine and King Sombra's direct orders!”

“I know...master. I lost my head,” he rasped, his voice weak. His throat felt like he hadn't had water for a month, but it hadn't been that long.

Had it?

“Just give me another chance!” he begged.

The army suddenly stopped and all eyes were on him. Often vying for and loving attention, now he only felt deep humiliation at being ousted from the Lieutenant's Circle and shackled like their enemy.

Blade also stared at him. “Well? I'm waiting. And not just me, but the entire army – slave.”

He winced, despising being called that – again. All the hard work, the lies, leaving his family, the forged papers elevating his status so he would even be considered for the position he had won in Sombra's army. And worse, the people he had killed to prove his worth. What in Tartarus had made him so desperate for the King's favor he had completely taken leave of his senses and disobeyed orders?!?

It made him so sick to think about he threw up, but couldn't see where he had vomited, his gaze imprisoned in the disapproving stare of his former Commander – and the entire rest of the army glaring at him. Waiting.

Everyone except King Sombra. Where was he?

Whimpering, Night Bomber crumpled to the ground, putting his hooves over his eyes. STOP LOOKING AT ME!

There was someone else who would be disappointed in his performance. Somepony he was forgetting. Who was it?

Iron Blade frowned. Who else did Bomber have in this world to leave behind? He turned away from the cowering stallion, spoke to someone in the darkness and fog he couldn't see. “Why doesn't he remember?” Black fog closed in around the fallen Lieutenant, pressing in on his mind.

Wait, hadn't he been warned about this? His mind snapped closed reflexively against the pressure. Where had he learned to do that? He looked up. The army was gone, instead the Lieutenant's Circle surrounded him, their stone-faced expressions worse than the disapproval of the entire army.

Despite the chains, he backed away in terror, or tried to. There was no way out. Eleven stallions surrounded him. Eleven executioners...



Back with the rest of the army, over a ridge from the execution site, Sure Step winced, hearing Night Bomber's screams. True Aim looked ill as well.

“Gods,” Aim shuddered, putting his hooves over his ears, trying to drown out the sounds. “Poor Night Bomber!”

“I take it you haven't been around long enough to witness a Lieutenant's execution squad,” Terrain asked, coming up to them.

“This is the closest we've ever been to one,” True Aim told the palomino as he sat down with them. “Outside of the Lieutenants, no one ever sees one.”

“There are stories,” Sure Step replied, starting to look as ill as his companion. “Just rumors. The Lieutenants never let anypony outside their circle know their secrets, but just hearing that - “ he shuddered violently.

“I - “ True Aim gulped, trying not to lose his breakfast. “I mean, has this ever happened before?”

Terrain frowned. “Not that I can remember. At least not to a Lieutenant. They usually die in battle, but...this does seem excessive.”

Step put a hoof around Aim's withers. “You don't look so good. Why don't we get some water? It'll put more distance between us and - that,“ he nodded, indicating the ridge and what was going on beyond.

“Yeah, sure. Good idea!” he nodded, eagerly getting up.



“ENOUGH!” Captain Iron Blade ordered.

The Lieutenants stopped immediately, backing away from their victim. He gazed at Sombra, hovering several feet above the circle, His eyes glowing, basking in the power Night Bomber's fear had lent Him up until his death. All the Lieutenants, trembling with adrenaline and sweating from the exhilaration of the kill, turned their eyes to their King and bowed before Him.

The deep violet glow of dark magic surrounding the Umbrum faded as He melted into his shadow form, reconstituting on the ground just inside the circle. Turning His back to the now still stallion, the others did the same, except for Iron Blade, who stepped aside so Sombra could stand alongside him. Once there, no pony dared look at their King as He looked back over His shoulder, breaking tradition only to sniff and say, “Apology accepted, Bomber,” before turning and walking away.

“Showers,” Blade ordered the elite force as Sombra passed him. “There is a waterfall nearby. Wash the stink of death off you and return to your posts. I shall confer with His Highness for our orders before we break camp.”

Wordlessly, the stallions complied, leaving the body of Night Bomber to the buzzards. He stood there only a few seconds longer, regarding their foolish, dead companion, then trotted after the King.

Once he caught up with Sombra, he noticed he was distant, his expression thoughtful. Only an Umbrum pony could witness such brutal carnage and not give it a second thought, he mused, wondering what was on His mind this time.

“You didn't seem to enjoy that as much as usual, Sire,” Blade ventured.

“These manner of feedings I neither enjoy nor dislike,” Sombra rumbled. “It is always a shame to lose a Lieutenant, except when they outlive their usefulness.” He paused, turning to their priorities.

“There is something else about this one, though,” Blade cocked his head at Sombra. “Something - different.”

“He was hiding something,” the Umbrum nodded. “Right up until the end. Once I figure out what it was, it will more than likely confirm our suspicions about him, Blade.” He huffed, unused to not being about to read a pony as well as he always did, but he was confident the answer would come in time. “We shall attend to the dead Marazons presently. Inform those guarding the bodies.”

Blade saluted. “Did something happen at the temple? We assumed she would be - ”

“Not here, Blade,” Sombra shook his head. “my tent, after you update the sentries.”

“Yes sir.” Sombra watched him trot off to carry out His orders, then headed back to His tent.



The familiar trappings of his command tent were lost to Him as the Dark Pony quietly entered. Surveying it briefly, but not registering any of it, He trotted over to the divan at the back and sat down. Though He loathed to admit it to any other - even Iron Blade, for the first time since his emergence from Lake Evershine, the King of Shadows felt well and truly, even utterly out of His depth!

He drew out the consort collar Nyx had impossibly produced, examining it for falsehoods. It carried the stamped design upon its surface of His stylized crown, His talent for gems telling Him its crystalline surface laid over an unbreakable metal was not only mined from His Empire, but the structure was exactly how he wove crystal, as unique as a hoofprint! These were indisputable facts.

But there was the slimmer, more delicate motif in the front – an upside down version of His own crown's centerpiece - just exactly what HE would design for a consort if He had ordered His metal smiths to create one.

The problem was, He never had.

...if you but promise to not end me... Her strange, double-edged voice drifted through His thoughts, as if this elusive witch knew her very presence excited His Umbrum senses in a way He could neither grasp nor explain, that alone making their meeting a risk on her part.

And then there was the inscription...He shook His head. “This must be a fake!” He said softly to himself. “It cannot be real!”

“What cannot be real, your Highness?” came a stallion's voice from the entrance.

He looked up, seeing the Commander beyond the slowly spinning collar before Him. “Ah, Blade. Join me.” He teleported the consort collar away before the red-bodied stallion got a good look at it yet. There was much to discuss before revealing it to His companion.

His visitor settled himself at Sombra's side, gratefully accepting the glass of wine offered him. “I hate those damn rituals,” Blade muttered. “They are too violent for my tastes.” He took a long pull from the metal cup, refilling it from the flask.

Sombra was not for the first time, ever grateful for His friend's tact. By changing the subject, Blade was allowing Him time to bring up the subject when He was ready. “Then why do you let the Lieutenants engage in them?” He asked him point blank.

It was a tease. Sombra knew well why – it was more of a way to engage his Second's thinking on such matters. Iron Blade swirled the strong drink around in His cup before downing it and refilling a second time. “It makes them feel – privileged,” Blade answered anyway. “And I have hopes they will go easier on the mares when we capture them if our stallions blow off steam now. No use killing them all if they can be brought back as concubines.”

“That depends in part if the Marazons are in heat when that happens,” Sombra muttered, emptying his own glass.

“And how beautiful they are, of course,” Blade grinned.

“Very.”

“Eh?” His second-in-command did a double take Sombra missed as He stared into His empty cup. Sombra snapped out of it, setting the cup aside.

Iron Blade smiled for the first time since the King had returned from the temple. “You saw her!”

“Indeed. It was an – interesting encounter.”

“Wait, if you saw her, Sombra, why did you not - “ Blade trailed off as Sombra stared at him. His eyes widened. “She didn't..? Did she? No!”

“Escape?” his King grunted.

“I won't believe it!” the Commander breathed, astonished. “NO ONE escapes You!”

“There is a first for everypony, Blade,” Sombra smirked, holding back the temptation to down another glass. He needed to keep a clear head.

“You aren't everypony!”

The temptation was too much. Sombra levitated the flask over, refilled his cup and downed it in one shot. “And she is no ordinary mare – nor unicorn.”

“Obviously not!” Blade threw his now empty cup down, eyes riveted to his King's. “Now you have my attention!”

“You have a soft heart, Blade. The Lieutenants will do what they will with them. These mares are warriors. Warriors make poor slaves, you know this to be true. They will not be so easy on us when we take – her...them,” He shook His head, annoyed His attention was so divided between Nyx and the subject of her tribe. When He was met with silence, he glanced over. Blade was grinning like an idiot.

When Sombra stared at him blankly, he grinned even wider. “Are you dodging the question, my King?” his Second teased.

“What question?” Sombra asked, amused but also slightly annoyed at Himself for being so distracted. “Of course I will have her!”

Iron Blade jumped up, too excited to sit any longer. He paced, his mind racing. “I never thought I would see the day - “ he began to say.

“She was from the future, Blade,” Sombra said quietly, cutting off what his companion would have said – for his sake.

That stopped him pacing. “What?”

“It never occurred to me that her gift came from being in the future rather than seeing it,” the Dark Pony rumbled.

“You can't be...no, you are always serious,” Blade took his thought back, the manic grin fading slightly.

Sombra didn't reply.

The Commander came back to sit in front of his King. “Psah! What proof could she have of this? It sounds like a trick!”

“That is what I thought,” He replied, bringing forth the collar Nyx had given Him.

Blade frowned at the levitated item. “A consort collar? Why have you had this made? She's not to be your - ”

“I didn't,” Sombra told him. “She took it from her own throat and gave it to me – to give back to her when we meet again.”

His Second shook his head, confused.  “Sombra, why do you think this is real?”

The Umbrum rotated the collar closer to him, letting him see the inside. “To the one who gave me...” Blade paused. “This is your writing!”

“Yes.”

“Forged into the metal, when it was created,” Blade emphasized. He reached out with his senses, then backed up, stunned. “With your crystals? Sombra, with your magic!” He added in a shocked voice.

“Indeed,” Sombra nodded. “All magic leaves an imprint of the user.” He drew the collar closer. “And this one unmistakable carries mine.”

Iron Blade shook his head violently, his coal-black mane thrown about his face and withers. “None possess the talent of time-travel – not even that old goat Star Swirl!”

Sombra rose from the divan, setting the collar back on the table to one side. He fluffed out his own flowing mane with a flick of His head. “True, though I suspect he's been working on that for a while now. He had told me once it was an ambition of his.” Moving to the center of the room, he fixed his friend with a gaze. “There was one other thing that has me – convinced this is no deception, Blade,” he said seriously.

“What is that?”

“She told me my mother's name.”

Blade frowned. “She was a Queen. That knowledge would be common. Not easy for the mares to confirm this far South, but it would be doable.”

Sombra grunted, shook His head. “True, but for one thing.”

“What is that?”

“She told me what her name was,” He explained. “in the language of the Umbrum.”
> 8. Ekal Rorrim
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

At the Temple, just before King Sombra’s arrival…

Nyx hated Neris. She hated her more than any other mare in her tribe. More than the entire army who was hunting them from the Crystal Empire and quite possibly more than King Sombra himself.

No, she admitted to herself as she spoke with her adopted mother and the Marazon council - she FEARED King Sombra. He had not given her a reason to hate him until he had killed her companion, and even knowing more bloodshed was to come, her fear overrode the hated by a mile.

What was the stupid old nag saying now? Oh, yeah, “Shadow ponies do not exist.”

Truly the babblings of the blind. In disgust, she replied mockingly, “So says the mare who stared into the burning gaze of one!” Opting to ignore her further, Nyx turned to her adopted mother. “Your Highness, he is attracted to fear. His projection ignored me until I felt afraid, then it homed in on me unerringly.” The warning tumbled out of her mouth in a rush, she was running out of time before he would arrive.

“Our mares are brave, Nyx,” Ainippe replied. “but this – thing he can become, it pulls at fears much deeper than those found in battle. We are not trained to withstand this!”

She knew. The odds were looking worse all the time and they had not engaged the enemy in a single battle yet. “I have to go. He's close.” 

Neris stepped forward. “How will you escape him?” she asked.

Did she really have to ask this now? “I can hide a few seconds ahead of this timeline,” she said hastily. “but I will not know how long to stay there, or where to go. I can't stay there forever, even if I did have control over bouncing back here, which I don't!” She sounded a tinge panicked, lost.

The elder mare thought of something. “Not the future! We saw a future projection of you, Nyx. Your dress was not - “

“- as it is now? A cape of red? A steel crown bearing the sign of Luna's moon, but in blood red? I know. I have seen this in my visions as well. I do not know it what means, but I do not believe it is a good sign.” She looked off to her left, then back to the council mares with a look of urgency. 

The skies darkened outside the open balcony to her left. She glanced nervously at it. Her senses were screaming at her to flee.

“I've got to go!” Nyx said urgently. The first seconds gave her an all too clear view of the cloud of darkness that alighted onto the Temple’s marble balcony as she did the instinctive calculations in preparation. Closing her eyes, she cast the spell to jump in time.

She sighed in relief. That was too -

- a wave of time displacement from...somewhere else...hit her through the spell. ‘Oh Goddess NO!’ she gasped, feeling her acceleration slow down and wind backwards. The spell bottomed out and slammed her back into normal time hard.

“Ugh,” she groaned, her senses reeling from the interference with her spell. She opened her eyes - 

- Directly into King Sombra’s red crystal ones.

“No!” she mouthed in a gasp, freezing up in terror.

But something was wrong. He didn’t move, even though they were muzzle to muzzle. He stared straight through her.

When she could breathe again, Nyx cocked her head for a few seconds, not understanding why he was just standing there. Something felt wrong with time all around her, in fact.

She glanced out the window when she realized she could not hear the crashing of the surf against the rocks below. Running to the balcony and a look down gave her a bizarre image of waves frozen in time, water like blobs suspended in air, unmoving.

“Did I break time somehow?” she whispered, going back to King Sombra. There was no spark of recognition in his eyes, nor movement of his chest in breathing. If she had not witnessed the very ocean below had seized up, she would have sworn she had somehow killed or suspended him in time.

“What have I done?” Nyx shuddered, pacing a few steps away from him, then back. Then curiosity got the better of her and she studied his features, reasoning if she had not truly ended him, what better chance would she have to scrutinize her enemy than when he was immobile like this?

It made her giggle at first in relief, but the fit settled when she got to really look again at his features. His bearing was royal, proud, every inch a King who at first glance demanded, even deserved respect for the mere station he was born to. 

Deserved it if you did not know of his reputation for brutality and bloodshed, she reminded herself firmly.

It was so true that evil came in handsome packages, she thought wistfully, admiring his well-groomed coat, so like her own shading, the flowing mane caught in time’s unforgiving, paralytic grip, yet so luxurious, so gorgeous! She dared to venture a hoof out to touch it. So soft...

Nyx backed up, shook her head to clear the admiration out of her senses, but soon fell again to looking over his large, sturdy build. She briefly wondered what his cutie mark was and trotted around to sneak a peek from under the royal robe across his broad back. None of the intelligence on him had said what it was, so how could she resist look - 

- there was no cutie mark!

Stunned, her eyes flew to her own flank, to the oriborous there.

No cutie mark. It couldn’t be!

Heart pounding and head reeling, she backed up, crossing back over to his front. Why had she not seen that before in her visions? 

She knew why. All the other visions had been hazy, blurred, filtered through unstable time windows, impressions of fear and a dark fury and deep internal pain overwhelming, all-consuming. It was there, in his glittering red eyes, despite the freezing of the very life force that was there, waiting to be released back into time’s natural path…

But then she realized something she had not considered before...if he were truly frozen, why could she still sense those emotions radiating from him? 

“No,” Nyx moaned, backing up. “I don’t want any part of this!” She turned and ran to another room, desperate to be away from him before she did something she sorely regretted!

The room she ran into felt like a sanctuary from the unforgiving march of time against her. It held a life-size statue of Princess Luna, her forelegs pawing the air, wing span fully spread, taking up the entire back wall of the small altar room. Her presence brought up mixed emotions in the frightened mare. “This is all your fault, you know!” she spat, bringing her hyperventilating lungs back under control. Feeling safer after a few minutes, she concentrated once more, tweaked the spell midstream to push her further along its time’s track. Long ago she had discovered it often reacted to her feelings and when she was calmer, it would abruptly “shut off”, dropping her out of time unexpectedly. Relief at having escaped him had dumped her back to where she had come muzzle to muzzle with him, but something had gone wrong this time and she had not come completely back into normal time. Pacing she tried to work it out in her head. “Am I back? Then when is he? Not where, just when?” She glanced back through the door. “Frozen too soon? Is he a frozen shadow too soon and I screwed up his destiny? Argh!” she yelled, her head a frantic mix of images of sometime in the future, cold and pressure under a hundred tons of ice, a throne room...she wasn’t there, then she was and he was staring through her. 

She was staring at a mare and a stallion, looking back over her shoulder at them from where she knelt before the King in his stasis sleep. “...if that is the case, then I want the last vision on my cortex to be of him.” She turned back to the frozen Shadow King upon his garnet crystal throne. “He saved me,” her voice grew soft, affectionate. “and I cannot save him. And this is the price I must pay - “

Nyx screeched, trying to stop her hand from pressing some button on the other wrist, somehow knowing it would be her last act when another wave of time displacement hit her through the vision and the time spell. It shattered the vision’s tight grip on her and she looked up.
Another figure appeared. A dark mare wearing red and silver, waves of fog-like mane framing her face, flowing across her back. An identical pair of all-black eyes met hers. She backed up, stunned.

It was her.

“Oh, this HAS to be bad!” she muttered.

The other version of herself smiled at her.

“You can’t be me!” she said aloud to the new Nyx.

The new arrival nodded, pointed to herself, then to Nyx.

The mare’s mind reeled. “From the future?”

Her future self nodded.

“I - you - you look like...HIM!” Nyx stammered, motioning to the other room. "Like my visions!"

The apparition grew more solid and the Seeress felt herself losing her grip on the current timeline her aborted spell had dumped her into. Of course. Two of them couldn’t exist in the same space, could they? It was just a theory, she admitted sheepishly. How could it be otherwise? 
This had never - well it HAD happened, but not since she had been an infant...

The future Nyx looked to the other room where King Sombra was. She moved towards it.

“Wait!” her fading self yelped. “Are you CRAZY?”

The future Nyx laughed.

“Of course you are, if you’re me,” the current version shook her head. She thought frantically for a moment. The time spell would yank them apart any second. “Wait! Please. I - I don’t want to do this! Just tell me...if we - I - am, are...whatever." This was making her head spin! She started again. "If I’m captured.” She glanced back at the handsome invader still frozen in the other room, then back to herself. “Is he worth it?”

Her counterpart looked at her sympathetically. She must have known - remembered how torn and conflicted she was at that point in her life. All she did was smile and nod “yes”.

The current Nyx bit her lip, tears in her eyes. It wasn’t the answer she had wanted, but the eyes reflected back to her - her eyes, seemed so certain of her answer. She closed her own eyes, feeling herself fade as the two parted ways - one to her past and one to an uncertain future.

Or was it?

> 9. The Problem With 25
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Healing Touch was worried. Her assistant could tell as the physician sent the fifth mare back out from the medical tent and followed her out, watching as she gathered with the others that had come to her for help. “I don’t get it,” the unicorn told her. “Five cases of the exact same thing and yet they are all from different divisions, have different battle experiences, so it can’t be from the trauma of the same campaign. It’s not fatigue, yet all had a nightmare last night they can’t remember, and yet act as if they’re exhausted. Like - ”

“Fly Away?” the assistant said, thoughtfully. “Did she not also say she felt an ‘evil presence’ in her dream?”

The physician’s eyes widened. “I had forgotten that! Yes, she did. Call them all back in. I want them all in here when I inquire further into this ‘nightmare’ and find out if Fly Away is awake enough yet we can also have her attend.”

“Yes, ma’am!” The assistant went away to do her superior’s bidding.



The Marazon council made quick time back to their army. As soon as the scouts spotted them, Healing Touch went out to greet them just outside camp.

The physician bowed before Ainippe. “May I speak to you in private, my Queen?”

She nodded, instructing the council to wait for her. Neris looked put out, especially when the Queen gestured for Quiet Hoof to accompany them instead of her.

“How is Fly Away?” was the Queen’s first question.

Healing shook her head. “Exhausted, upset. Understandably so.”

“Of course,” Ainippe agreed. “I would prefer to send her to the Southern Bay Tree Tribe to recover - “

“As I told her would most likely happen, your Majesty, but she is badly agitated. She claims she foresaw this attack in a dream of great detail, describing all that had happened, including the death of her squad.”

“Is she sure of this?” the Queen asked.

“Very. And there is more. Since you and the council left to confer, I have seen at least a dozen mares, all exhibiting the same signs of stress and fatigue Fly Away has,” the unicorn went on. “They all share vague recollections of a nightmare they cannot recall - “

“ - except for darkness and dread,” an elder mare’s voice said behind them.

The trip to Mirror Lake, its bad memories and disturbing portents had done much to fray the Marazon leader’s nerves, especially when it came to Neris’s persistent meddling. “Did it also tell you to eavesdrop, Neris?’ the Queen snapped, turning to her as did the other two mares.

The elder mare was taken aback by Ainippe’s vicious tone. Her gaze went briefly to Quiet Hoof who merely rolled her eyes, radiating a ‘You deserved that’, attitude that promised no support. Her gaze went back to their leader. “In this case I am glad I did since I too experienced some of what Healing Touch describes.”

Ainippe took in the comment, but ignored her for the moment, lest she say something she would regret. She turned to Quiet Hoof. “We need to learn the extent of this - condition and how it might affect our battle prowess.” She was interrupted as a vibration of intense heat passed through her, making her shiver violently. 

“Ugh! What was that?” Quiet Hoof shuddered, as did Healing Touch.

“You felt it, too?” the Queen asked. Both nodded.

A peculiar vibration on the ground next to Quiet’s hoof made her look down. She yelped, jumping back. Her eyes widened. “What?”

All eyes went to where she was looking. Some unseen force was stirring the ground next to her. It flung dust and dirt in all directions, as if a small whirlwind had suddenly come into existence. When it cleared, there was a single word burned into the ground - Nyx.

Neris growled, stepping back, agitated. “How is she doing this?” she asked, uneasy.

Before anypony could answer, more writing appeared in choppy, violent stirrings of the ground.

25 affected.

Ainippe looked up. The air was shimmering and charged with a hot wind around them. She thought she saw the form of a mare fading in and out of existence next to the writing, but it couldn’t gain solid form. “Nyx? If that is you, how did this come about?”

More writing overwrote the prior message - Sombra - dreams - fear feeder.

“‘Fear-feeder’?” Healing echoed. “What does that mean?”

“This is King Sombra’s doing,” Quiet Hoof replied. “She must be trying to tell us he got to them through their dreams.”

“But what does fear-feeder mean?” the physician asked further.

“He is feeding their fears?” Neris offered.

“Or feeds on their fears,” the Marazon leader muttered. She looked to her companions. “Either way, he has gotten to two dozen of our troops.”

“But why pick the ones he did?” Ainippe asked the space where Nyx appeared trapped in some bizarre layer of time she could not quite penetrate.

The unnatural heat and awful feeling of something not quite there faded. “Nyx?” Ainippe called out. “Nyx! We need to know more!”

“Guess we’re on our own,” Quiet shivered. “Gods, that was creepy!”

“It appears that was all she could do to warn us,” the Queen shook her head. “But it was enough. Two dozen and one is not an appreciable number, unless there was a strategy in selecting the victims. We won’t know until we locate the others affected.” She turned to Quiet Hoof. “Unfortunately, we will have to do this on the move. Fortunately we already know half the number, so it should be a quicker search. Inform the Division Leaders to find the others affected thusly and report back to you at once.”

“As you command,” Quiet Hoof nodded and sped off to carry out her orders.

Neris watched Ainippe silently work out how this affected the council’s strategy in her head for a moment, then spoke up. “So we are looking for another dozen, minus myself.”

“I’m not counting you in their numbers,” the Queen replied.

“And why not?”

The Marazon started walking back towards where the Council awaited them. Neris trotted to catch up. “Well?” she asked again.

“There is no strategic value in battle in affecting you, Neris. You’re not a warrioress,” Ainippe replied, continuing without breaking stride.

“‘No strategic value’?” the elder mare huffed, offended. “How dare you - “

The Queen stopped, turning on her. “No - how dare you! The next time I say, ‘alone’, I mean ALONE! You trot over my authority like it does not exist!”

“And you felt that a necessary lesson to teach me in front of others, Ainippe?” Neris shot back.

“Yes,” the Queen replied without hesitation. “If you ignore and usurp my authority in front of others, have no doubt I will humiliate you in front of them to regain it!”

Having no valid retort to her, Neris switched topics. “This is not about authority, Ainippe. The trip here has been stressful enough. I can see it in your temper. Mirror Lake IS where Nyx went insane all those years ago.”

“She is not insane and that breakdown was thanks to you,” the Marazon Queen spat. She came up closer to Neris, her eyes burning with challenge. “If you plot to send me over the edge by sticking a poker in my side, remember this, Neris. YOU are NOT in line next to assume the leadership of those we should be concerned with right now - our people.”

“You think I would want leadership?” the elder mare balked.

“Oh, I know you do. But consider this - Nyx is next by right of birth - “

Neris looked stunned. “She is unbalanced - and ADOPTED. Everymare knows this! There would be challenges to her ascension.”

“Challenges would take time, Neris. And in the meantime she would rule,” Ainippe reminded her, a smile spreading across her face. “And you know what? She told me what her first decree would be. It seems it would involve turning you over to King Sombra for target practice.”

“She - she wouldn’t dare!” Neris sputtered.

“Oh, she would. No one else would dare, but SHE would.” the Queen drew closer, amusement in her eyes translating to her voice. “And you know what gave her the idea?”

Neris only gave a small, scared nod in question.

“Seeing it happen in the future,” Ainippe replied. “A possible future. So I wouldn’t shake her tree too much in the meantime - nor give her the chance to make that future a certain one by ousting me. Remember that and keep thy place.”

The elder mare remained quiet as the Queen of the Marazons drew back. Disgusted, yet satisfied at the same time, she galloped off to catch up to the Council, needing to burn off the pent-up energy of her hatred for the creature she blamed for her adopted daughter’s lost childhood.
> 10. Thy Fate be Sealed
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

While time travel spells required an insane amount of concentration for any lucky enough to master them, they came naturally to Nyx who had been born to them. Letting most of its navigation be performed by instinct and subconscious monitoring, it allowed her a moment while in transit to process the shock of having seen the future version of herself.

‘It seems my fate is sealed,’ she thought glumly. ‘It was as if I were gazing upon a version of myself from an alternate universe. ‘I wonder if I change for the better?’

With that thought, she closed her eyes. A year flew past, then two, then three. ‘I must be more paranoid than I thought to have let my fear run me so far into my future,’ she thought wryly, using conscious effort to pull back gently on the spell. When the passage of time slowed enough it wouldn’t make her sick to gaze upon, she slowly opened her eyes…

...to an empty cliff face overlooking the Great Ocean.

‘Did I move in space?’ the TimeWitch asked aloud of no one in particular. ‘I know I can do that, but it is rather dangerous and I have to make a conscious effort to avoid - ‘ She took a step forward, hitting the toe of her hoof upon stone. She bent down, clearing away moss and vines, revealing gleaming white and black marble underneath.

Her dark eyes widened in horror.

“No...no...NO!” her heart hammered in panic as she cleared more moss, exposing more of the Temple of the Moon’s foundation.

Her home.

It was leveled. Nothing had survived.

Not a wall. Not a statute.

Not a dragonfly.

The Marazon sat there for hours quietly crying, which had come after several minutes of heart-wrenching screams and sobbing.

This was all her fault.

She was weak, a coward. Hiding in the sanctuary of the temple, hoping King Sombra would have  respected the sanctity of its neutrality in wartime. The legends were true then, all her fears about him, the tales of his evil that had been heard as far as the Saddle Arabian Empire. He was a monster and she had been an IDIOT for believing such a monster could hold to any rules of engagement or codes of chivalry, morality or compassion as the Marazon tribes did and now the price was to be paid to all the west coast tribes - the loss of their beloved temple!

She watched Celestia’s setting sun, still in a state of shock and anger - anger now overflowing, quashing her fear. He would pay for this transgression as the Furies of their ancient legends who meted out justice upon all those who wronged an innocent pony unjustly killed. The relatives of such victims would call them down upon the murderer, even if they did not know who the killer was, for the Furies could not be hidden from and they saw all…

“This is where everything changes for us!”

Nyx looked around, confused, as the echoes of her own voice came from both inside her own head and from all around her. The air warped around the TimeWitch with the vibration of a disturbance in time. She looked up in the direction of Luna’s rising moon over the ocean.

A cloaked mare phased into existence before her. She wore silver-plated greaves upon black hooves and had a unicorn’s horn, but that was all the detail Nyx could see underneath the robes.

“Ah great, us again with another lecture - “ the mourning mare began sarcastically, but the words died in her throat as her future self drew back the hood to reveal her face.

Her horn was the curved sickle-shape of King Sombra’s, but shaded dark grey at the base to silver at its tip, as was its present coloring.

The two stared at each other for a moment. Finally, the younger Nyx cocked her head. “My, have we changed,” she said, the sarcasm gone from her voice. “Is this truly us now?”

“Yes,” her future self nodded. “Much has happened in the centuries I have been you,” she began.

“‘Centuries’?” her younger self echoed. “We should not live that long!”

The elder version of her pony self nodded again. “No, we do not. But fate decreed we not die before our mission was completed.”

The younger version shook her head, trying to comprehend the cryptic answer. “Is this how I sound to everypony? Confusing as Tartarus?”

A sad smile peeked through the mare’s worn features. “I suppose it was,” she replied. “It has been so long, I scarcely recall.”

“I saw you but a few moments ago,” she walked around the new Nyx, keeping a careful distance. “We looked so much happier then. I guess a thousand years will do that to a mare.”

Her other self nodded. “And I know having myself in this form visit you is not as - encouraging of our future as I was when I - we - were First Consort - “

“‘Consort’?!?” she yelped.

“Yes, consort, but we have been rather - busy since our last visit of you. I remember having you come to me and I may not get the chance again before - “ she lowered her head. “Well, before...let’s just say the future will be very busy for us.”

The Nyx of the present ceased her circle and sat down in the rubble of their beloved moon temple. “Okay, spirit of my miserable future, what peculiar wisdom can thee impart to me?”

“All is not lost, Nyx. The temple will be rebuilt, but not in the year you came from, yet you must help them restore it.” She went to the side of the cliff facing the land. 

Present Nyx came to the cliff’s edge and looked down. There, in the darkening plains, were hundreds of tiny, flickering lights coming their way. Each small clump of lights illuminated a cluster of mares and the banners of many of the western Marazon tribes could be seen held aloft by their earth pony bearers. “Our sisters!” she breathed, amazed. “But why me?”

“They have no records of its design or contents, Nyx. You are the only one left who knows.”

The Marazon’s ears drooped, then her head. “It is true then. King Sombra killed us all.” She turned, but her future self was gone.

“No!” she trotted back towards the ocean side of the cliff. “You can’t leave yet. I must know! Did King Sombra kill us all?!?”

There was no answer. She was gone.



“This is a mad quest,” one flag-bearing mare said to the archer next to her. “There is no one here and we have no plans. Why are we here?”

“Because Queen Andromache said so,” the archer replied. “As did our council.”

“But why if none - “ a light caught her attention at the top of the hill. A silver light like Luna’s moon, only smaller, earth-bound and much brighter.

The two Marazons heard the call to stop that echoed out from the Queen’s runners. It took a moment for the advancing mares to stop, so many of them there were. They saw the Queen, her horn glowing in acknowledgement of the silvery beacon.

The light at the top of the cliff winked out of existence and reappeared before the Queen. A cloaked mare approached her, the unicorn’s horn still glowing, pouring silver light over the assembly.

“Is it you?” the Queen asked. “The one the old TimeWitch spoke of?”

The figure stopped before her. “Is it?” she repeated the question.

Nyx drew back her hood. A surprised murmur ran through the ranks surrounding the Queen as they saw the mare was a younger version of her who had come to the nation with the hope and promise of rebuilding the Temple of the Moon. A mare of black eyes, a snake-eating cutie mark and promises to re-establish their nation. 

The time-displaced unicorn looked them over, the thousand mares, their firefly companions, banners of nations undefeated and tears of relief came to her eyes. She nodded, bowed before Queen Andromache and answered, “Yes.”
> 11. Plans and Warnings
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

A dark shadow fell over the three stallions that were resting near the water tent, far away from the execution site of Night Bomber. “Terrain, the King wants to see you and Sure Step in his tent,” the shadow said, also indicating the earth pony scout. 

Sure Step raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Me, Captain Blade?”

Blade nodded. “Aye. We are to discuss our next moves and assess the position of the Marazons before proceeding.” He glanced back in the direction of Sombra’s tent, then snorted in annoyance. “Things are getting complicated and our timing must be well-planned for what is to come.”

Step felt relief wash away the twinge of nervousness he had felt at first hearing the King required him. He looked to Terrain and the two looked to True Aim. “Into the breach you go, newbie,” the archer joked. “We all get our chance to impress the king.”

“Thanks, I needed that pep talk like I need a hole in the sole of my hoof,” the scout stood, shaking out his mane. 

“He isn’t including any pegasai in the meeting?” Aim asked as they got ready to leave with Blade.

“No. Just us,” the Commander confirmed.

Step grunted, curious. “You’ll find out why in a minute,” the red stallion assured him, leading the two earth ponies off in the direction of the King’s tent, calling back to the archer. “I’ll return them when we are through and you mares can continue your sewing circle when they get back.”

“Aw mom!” True Aim whined good-naturedly, turning to sit back down. A sharp rock smacked his shoulder blade where the armor didn’t protect him and he flinched, glancing back sourly at the offending pony. Blade was smirking, another rock levitated next to him as they walked away. The archer kept him in his sights as he sat back down, unwilling to turn his back on the commander a second time.


The trio of stallions stopped in front of the King's tent. Blade wrapped sharply on the wooden brace by the entrance. 

“Enter!” came the King’s deep-voiced reply. 

The Commander drew the tent flap back and they entered to find Sombra in shadow form except for his head, a deeply contemplative look on his face, his green and red-tinged eyes focused on the crystal slave collar levitated before him. Before the others could question it, the Umbrum set the object of his attentions in a jeweled case, causing Iron Blade to raise an eyebrow. He had not seen that case since Princess Luna had gifted it to the King what seemed ages ago.

He led his small group to sit while Sombra reformed back into solid pony form, but the Commander’s mind was processing the seeming obsession his lifelong friend was developing with the collar the Marazon TimeWitch had given him. Even more so was Blade’s wonderment at WHY she had given it to the Umbrum pony. It was almost as if she were flirting with Sombra, leaving promises of her power to ensure he would not leave without her. If she were truly a future Seeress, did that possibly mean she knew they would be facing a tougher time capturing her than they were anticipating and didn’t want them to give up on her capture? Blade snorted at the thought. He wasn't completely convinced yet she WAS a TimeWitch or even a Seeress. 

Sombra glanced at each stallion for a moment, then began, breaking Blade’s train of thought. “Since the TimeWitch is evading me, we will continue to advance North to their temple. A threat to the place she appears to call sanctuary should be sufficient motivation to bring both her and her army to us.

“Sure Step, I require you and a pegasus to backtrack to ascertain their position and ETA. If possible, draw them back in the direction of their fallen comrades so they may give their dead a proper burial. Take a small squad of ground troops with you in case they are in a mood to fight.”

“Yes, your Highness. May I ask why only one flyer?”

“The others will be required for the initiation of their new leader and the new Lieutenant’s ceremony,” Sombra explained. “It is only because we have the time presently that they have been given leave to acknowledge Night Bomber’s passing and dispose of his personal effects,” he finished.

“Acknowledge, not mourn,“ Iron Blade added, seeing Sure Step’s puzzled expression. “There was no honor in his betrayal.” He turned to Sombra. “I presume you want me to go through his property before it is turned over, my Liege?”

The Dark Pony nodded. “Yes, Blade. As usual because of his position - and our suspicions.” If Terrain and Sure Step wondered what their “suspicions” were, they had the sense not to ask. This was also good because Sombra’s eyes fell upon Terrain next. “I was preoccupied with my haste to get to the temple before my prey vanished and got only a cursory glance at the landscape. Terrain, what can we expect as far as the land between here and their Temple?”

“There are hot springs at the base of the Seven Mare Mountains, your Highness,” he replied. “They are surrounded by a forest of a local tree the Marazons call ‘sycamores’. They are quite unlike the pine trees we have encountered North of here.

“After that, it opens up and the hills are of a smaller, more manageable elevation. The small valley at its base contains nothing more than fields of flowers. I would caution in passing through only because an assault could be launched from the surrounding hills.”

Sombra nodded. “I will lead the army through in shadow form, then. That will not present a problem.”

“Once past those,” Terrain continued. “it is a straight path to the Temple of the Moon. It itself is on the edge of cliffs overlooking - “

“ - the Great Ocean,” the King confirmed. “Yes, I saw it from the Temple’s balconies.”

“We have the advantage in numbers, from what you have told us, your Highness,” Iron Blade brought up. “but they know the terrain intimately. They can ambush us in the forests, which is why we should cross that area as fast as possible.”

Sombra nodded. “Agreed. If it comes down to a full-on assault before we reach the temple, our strength will be on the plains. That is where our stallions are trained best in combat.” He rose, the cue that their meeting was done. 

Blade turned to Sure Step. “You, Terrain and Dark Arrow choose your team. Tell Dark to report to the Lieutenants for the ceremony as soon as you are on your way." 

"I will await you there," Sombra nodded. "I have a - message to send these wild mares,” the Crystal Tyrant smiled grimly.

Sure Step brought his hoof to his heart in a salute as he bowed. “Sire!” Terrain also bowed and the two left.



The Marazons made good time on the return trip, ever-alert to enemy scouts, be they in the air or on the ground. The lone survivor of the first attack, Fly Away, stayed with the army at the back of the advance while she recovered from the wounds she’d received from King Sombra’s crystals and True Aim’s shadow-guided arrows. There were several other mares in the wagon with her - none were casualties of the prior assaults on the Marazons as those had either healed and rejoined the army or had already been sent to the Southern Tribes. 

The mares with Fly Away were part of Healing Touch’s medical team - two were earth ponies and one unicorn. Their job was to stay with the injured as part of the recovery unit, making sure those in their care suffered neither pain, infection nor relapse of their injuries. They were the best at what they did, and knowing that, Fly Away’s thoughts were barely on her injuries as she stared out at the army ahead of them, lost in thought at the moment.

“It is good to see a break in the casualties,” one mare, a light blue earth pony was saying behind her.

“We’ll need the moment’s rest,” her unicorn team member replied. “I heard we are expecting massive casualties now that King Sombra is leading this assault.”

The other earth pony, a dark green mare with a lighter green mane and tail made a small, dismissive snort. “Leaders are good at rallying their stallions, but once the fighting starts in earnest, they always hide like cowards behind their troops. Remember the Southern Banditos raids on our Tree Tribes?”

Her companions laughed. “Do we? Queen Andromache found their leader hiding in a pickling barrel!” 

All three broke out in laughter. Fly Away would have joined them, but something pushed her desire to distract herself from her misery aside. Instead, her head echoed the screams of her pegasisters as they had plummeted from the skies towards the Crystal Army below them. She closed her eyes, struggling to remember her Marazon disciplines, telling herself this battle was so much harder to forget because it had been her flock, sisters dear to her that she had known and worked with for years…

“Fly Away, c'mon, you slow poke!” Sky Wind teased, pulling slightly more ahead.

Fly Away paled, remembering the phrase from her nightmares of the early morning. “What?” she asked hesitantly. “Shouldn’t we be careful? I mean - we are coming up on their position - “

“We’re always careful, Fly,” Rider nodded, slowing so their flockmate could catch up. “You’re awfully jittery this morning, hon. Are you okay?”

Relieved at the kind tone, Fly sighed, shuddering. “Bad dream, really bad. Just before we woke up.” 

Sky Wind, listening in, thought better of Fly’s warning and slowed, joining them. All three could see the glint of sun off helmets on the ground in the distance...

“Fly Away, you should know if this king cowers like a pickle,” the green earth mare joked. “You saw him, after all.”

The wounded pegasus, realizing somepony had asked her something, turned around. All three were looking at her now. She regarded them for a moment - the two earth ponies, one with a blue coat and one with a green one, the green one's lighter green mane and the blue one’s silvery, braided mane. Had it been them?

“Their King,” the orange-bodied unicorn repeated, her tone more kindly than before. “Did he hide at the back of his herd?”

Fly didn’t understand the question at first. Her wounds itched and her head felt muddled, confused and disoriented by the flashback. Her mouth moved and she licked her lips, but no reply came forth. Somepony handed her water and she drank, gulping it greedily, coughing slightly. 

“Hey, take it easy,” the blue medic took the empty flask back from their patient. “There’s no rush. There’s plenty more where that came from.”

“Thank you,” Fly replied, grateful, finding her voice again. “Uh, what was the question?”

“Their king,” the unicorn repeated patiently. “Was he cowering amongst his troops when they attacked you?”...

Sky and Wind pulled slightly ahead of Fly Away as they now saw distinct, individual stallions of the army below. 

“Is that their king?” Wind asked, pointing at the glint of metal and a red crown upon the brow of a dark grey and black stallion.

Sky nodded. “It’s true then. Their king did come this time!” She looked to her flying mate. “We better turn back now - “ She screamed as an arrow struck her.

Wind was in the middle of crying out her name when another arrow pierced her throat.


Voices were around her, but Fly only heard them as background noise. Someone was saying her eyes didn’t look well. Green? Wasn’t that the color of the medic behind the blue one examining her? The pegasus struggled up through the layers of nightmare and the past’s reality, brushing the medic gently away with a hoof. 

“What - what was the question?” she repeated again.

The three attendants exchanged worried looks. There was a sickly green in their patient’s eyes and the corners looks oddly purple, but it was hard to know for sure as the cart they were in jostled them, causing the misty aura to jump and disperse with every bump.

Without realizing what she was doing, Fly Away reached for the leather catch on her pouch. It was slow work and she winced as it strained the stitches in her shoulder where the wing joined it. Hissing at the pain, she almost gave up as the blue medic came to her aid, opening it for her. The wounded mare leaned in, retrieving something. In a dreamy haze, she handed it off to the unicorn. 

All three mares stared at it along with Fly. “It's beautiful, but it's cold!” the unicorn said, rolling it over in her hoof. “How can such a beautiful red crystal be so cold?” she asked in wonder.

“As cold as the heart of it's owner,” the pegasus told them, her voice lacking emotion. “My trophy. Buried in my flank by their King, shot from the front of their advance.”

The three stared at her in surprise that a crystal could be used as such a weapon. 

“I’ve never of - “ the blue medic began, but a gasp cut her off. Their unicorn companion suddenly cried out, holding the hoof with the crystal with her other hoof.

“Chakra, what is it?” her green companion yelped. 

The unicorn couldn't answer, her cry turning into a scream. The two earth ponies leapt up to restrain her, throwing her to the floor of the cart, fearing she was having a fit.

“Goddess what - “ the green earth mare started to ask, but stopped as they all gasped. The red crystal had burrowed into her hoof, turning the coat around her wound black. They fell back, fearing her infected by some magic-borne plague as the sickening discoloration traveled up her leg towards the rest of the body.

The other two mares screamed, grabbing their patient to pull her away as their companion frothed and foamed at the mouth, her body caught in convulsions that kept her on the floor of the cart. The surrounding troops began to notice the trouble and stopped to help, ending up assisting Fly Away off the cart as the earth medics jumped off in terror. Free of the crystal’s dark influence, Fly began to come back around to the sight of chaos around her.

It took a moment for the head of the advance surrounding Queen Ainippe to get the message through the ranks that there was trouble at the back of the army. Armor-clad mares instinctively moved to surround their Queen to protect her. Ainippe nodded to Quiet Hoof, who began running towards the back to get a report on the trouble. 

The entire army stopped. Quiet Hoof intercepted the two medics as they came galloping forward with a small escort of troops bearing Fly Away in several unicorn’s magical aura. Quiet turned quickly, leading them back to the Queen. As the group reached the front of the herd, the infected unicorn medic teleported directly in front of them, mere feet away from Ainippe.

There were gasps, as the entire front line beheld the hideously changed mare. Her entire coat was now a sickly, greying color, her hooves and mane a burning, red crystal matching an unnatural red glow against the dead black of once white eyes. Her teeth were sharp, yet decaying before their very eyes, as were her hooves. All of her armor was no longer silver, but tarnished and falling apart as if aging years in seconds.

Queen Ainippe faced her, standing firm. “Chakra?” she asked in a measured, gentle voice.

The unicorn didn’t respond, just stared at the Queen.

“It’s an infection from the red crystal that struck down Fly Away, your highness!” the green and blue medics explained breathlessly. “Fly was possessed, we think. Her eyes were a sickly color and she was acting strangely before she gave Chakra the crystal from her wounds.”

The Queen took this news in, quickly processing it. Neris whispered something in her ear. Ainippie nodded in agreement. “Unicorns, to the back of the ranks,” she ordered. “Shields all!”

The wild mare army responded instantly to their Queen’s command. Chakra cocked her head, as if in curiosity, the most hideous, decayed smile crossing her features. She began trembling, then suddenly her flesh melted, leaving the crystal that had grown into her body scattered upon the ground. Her companions of a few moments ago stared in horror at how massive the crystal was now, easily half the size and body weight of the unfortunate unicorn!

Many at the front of the herd, including a medic and Fly Away, turned away, becoming sick from the sight as flesh still clinging to the sharp edges of the crystal. The Marazon Queen blew out a breath both of sadness, yet also relief that nopony else had been harmed. Perceiving the immediate threat of its presence over, she bit her lip, mourning the loss of the mare. “Ranks advan - “ she began to say when the crystals upon the ground shifted, catching her attention. They formed three words.

Those in the front had just enough time to read the message before the crystals disintegrated, sinking back into the ground. Once the shock of what had just happened wore off, the Queen snorted. “Not without a fight, you dog!” she snarled. “Mark the way around this area, just in case,” she ordered her guards. “I don’t want any more to become infected.” Turning back to her army, she called out in a clear, strong voice, “Advance!”



The Crystal Army camp -

The hot green glow of dark magic faded from King Sombra’s eyes as he floated back to the ground, gently touching down in the center of a circle of magical sigils. At his hooves the words, “Give me Nyx”, burned into the soil, faded as the first of his Lieutenants arrived, led by Captain Iron Blade...

This last scene will be continued in “Rise of the Lieutenants - Initiation of Terror” The rest of the story will pick up after that scene right here in the next chapter of Mad Seeress of the North.
> 12. The Year of Sanity
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

My name is Nyx. I am known as the Mad Seeress of the Marazon Empire. So far in my young life, my adult self tried to kill my infant self, another older self showed me I become the royal consort of our enemy King Sombra and yet another, older self led me here, three years into my future, to aid rebuilding a temple destroyed a year ago I was standing in yet seconds before.

To say my life is complicated is a laughable understatement…


Queen Andromache drew back the tent flap with her magic. It was the end of another long day on the build ‘site, yet this one was the most important of all. The day all work had come to a halt because all work except for one more task was done.

“The moving of the last stone into place,” came a mare’s voice from inside.

The Queen nodded, not surprised Nyx could sense her by now. They had worked side-by-side for a full year and their Seeress had often shown she could tell it was her even when her back was to the tent flap, as it was now.

“Please come in,” the black-bodied witch nodded, turning around.

“Thank you, Nyx,” Andromache trotted in, glad to be out of the late afternoon heat and sun. She accepted the nest of cushions the TimeWitch always reserved for her visits, settling in and using her magic to embrace the flask of water Nyx floated over to her. And as always, Nyx waited until her royal guest had downed the flask’s contents before speaking, gazing into the distance a moment, seeing whatever Seeresses saw that no other could gaze upon.

“My time here is coming to an end,” she said, the peculiar echo always present in her voice stronger than usual. “I can feel it. I wish it were not so.” She looked down a moment.

Andromache smiled. “Even though most of my tribe avoids your company?” she asked her.

The TimeWitch looked up, grunting and sipped something the queen suspected was not water. “All mortal ponies - mares and stallions - are the same. It is no different in Ainippe’s tribe.”

“It is too bad neither me nor my sister could select out such behaviors from our herds.” She set the flask back on a table nearby.

“In a way, I am grateful most shun my company, my Queen,” Nyx admitted. “I’d rather not be around those that are close to their deaths. Their auras glare in my eyes, the fates whisper in my ears.” She pursed her lips in thought. “Though since I have dwelt here, in my future, I have been able to block them out. It has truly been a year of sanity I will treasure the memory of forever.”

“Then that is our gift to you for helping us rebuild the Temple of the Moon,” her Queen nodded. “We have nothing else we can give you that you can return with - and sanity is no small gift.”

“You have given me more than that, Aunt Andromache,” Nyx addressed her, finally slipping into calling her by their family titles. “Here I have had a rest, time to think, away from my impending fate, away from Sombra’s threat. Time to build up my courage to face him and stop being a cowering, helpless victim of the future to come. And you have shown me that we survive his assault. That is no small thing!”

Andromache smiled, took more water, then grew serious. “I sent scouts to the region of the Crystal Empire,” she began. “They have returned.”

“That is a long way. Many month’s journey.”

“Yes,” the Queen agreed. “I sent them soon after you came to us and told us of your fate to come.”

The TimeWitch felt her throat suddenly go dry, her heart pounding. “Yes, well, I have a few things to do before the temple dedication, aunt - “

“You do not want to know what they discovered?”

Nyx opened her mouth to reply, but stopped herself. She sighed heavily. “I guess I still hold a fear of my fate at some deeper level in my mind, but there is a wisdom in not knowing more than I already do.” She gazed past her, listening to the noise and bustle outside. With construction done and the stoneworkers and artisans back, it was the first time in a year it had been this active in the camp. “And yet, I wonder what would happen if I simply did not return to my past?”

Andromache cocked her head in curiosity. “Did you not once tell me that whenever you had tried to stay in another time before, you always snapped back to your proper timestream?”

Nyx looked down at the ground. “Yes, it's true. The few times I tried, I always returned. I have never stayed as long as I have this time. Perhaps it is a sign. They were always experiments, but this feels like a pivotal point in my existence. I wasn't serious about staying those times and yet I cannot help but wonder what would happen now if I tried?”

“If you are not as afraid of King Sombra now as you say, Nyx, why would you even consider this path?”

The dark mare shrugged. “Your tribe could use a Priestess, auntie. And perhaps once King Sombra discovers I am gone for good, he would leave mother's tribe alone.”

“Are you really so stupid as to believe that, child?”

Nyx blinked, taken aback by her words. She looked up into her aunt's suddenly cold gaze and stern expression. “Auntie?”

“Stallions who go to war are animals,” Andromache reminded her, spitting out the words, betraying her contempt for the more aggressive sex. “They behave as males fighting over a mare in heat - and worse. If you deny this Shadow King his prize and do not kill him, he will decimate my sister’s mares in his fury.”

Nyx’s look of surprise fell to one of defeat. Her aunt was right, of course.

“I don't know how to beat him, auntie,” Nyx confessed, withers slumped in defeat.

Andromache softened. “Perhaps there is one who knows,” the Marazon Queen said. “I think it best to consult her.”

“And who would that be?”

“In our intelligence gathered, we were told there was one who once loved him. Princess Luna,” Andromache told her.

Nyx’s mouth fell open in surprise. “Princess Luna?” she repeated, shocked. “How can that even be!?!”

“It was difficult for our spies to gather the details,” the Queen shook her head. “None in the Empire itself remember much of either their relationship or its parting. It is as if there were some spell cast over them that made them forget. Or they may have been too frightened of the King’s wrath to reveal it. It was not until our sisters reached Kajeiri on their return trip that they learned of this from former residents of the Empire they happened to run across.” She took a breath. “Apparently many years ago, before King Sombra came to power and was still just a Prince, he courted Princess Luna. They planned to be wed, but her sister Celestia, disapproved. She tore them apart and cast a curse upon Sombra that trapped him in the Crystal Empire, keeping him from pursuing when she took Luna away from there.” Andromache stopped, seeing Nyx suddenly go pale, her body tensing. “Nyx?”


“Sombra!” a deep-voiced stallion nearby cried.

Nyx blinked and she was suddenly standing next to a stallion upon a parapet overlooking a city at sunset. Startled, she moved away from the red-bodied stranger clad in guard’s armor. He ignored her, or was unable to see her, his attention fixed above. A bright flash of light coming from the direction he was staring drew her attention to the skies.

Sparks rained down upon them as a charcoal-bodied stallion wielding a copper-colored scythe hacked away at a mare - no an Alicorn, above him. No, not at her, Nyx saw as the flare of light dimmed, but at a golden shield separating him from the mare. She in turn was slashing away at the shield from the other side, the silver sword she wielded making a visible crack in the field, spiderwebs of weakening energy radiating outwards from the main crack, and all being eaten away at by the black and purple glow of corrupting dark magics. Sweat poured down the withers of the stallion above them, his eyes saturated with a hellish green glare, the overflow of so much dark power bleeding lavender trails from the corners of his eyes. Both he and the mare above were groaning and grunting with the exertions of tearing apart the shielding, which finally gave way, shattering into a thousand golden fragments that left light trails across Nyx’s sensitive eyes.

“King Sombra!”

Nyx strained to see past the glittering afterburn, but the glow beyond it was even worse. An Alicorn of pure white, outlined in hot gold, assaulted her vision. Nyx turned her gaze back to the ground, silently cursing its brilliance, and the name of the being above her. The hum of white magic accompanied the shield springing back into existence, stronger than ever.

“Stand down, Shadow King!” the Alicorn thundered.

“Stay out of this Sun Witch!” Sombra roared. “‘tis not your decision to arrest our courtship! Be gone from my kingdom!!!”

As entrancing as the two combatants were, the TimeWitch’s gaze was drawn to Princess Luna, who lay sweating and exhausted against the curve of the force field, it supporting her weight for the moment she desperately needed rest. She looked to Nyx as if she and Sombra had been laying into the field all day without pause, the tired look in her teal eyes underworn with absolute heartbreak, as if she knew this was a fight she was destined to lose. Nyx didn’t have to see any more to know what the outcome would be. She willed herself away, the sound the last thing lingering in her senses as time carried her away and back to Andromache.

“SOMBRA!”


The Marazon came back to the sensation of hooves rubbing her back, the forearms of her aunt around her as she lay in a trembling heap. She blinked and found her eyes wet with tears for the awful thing she had just witness the Princess of the Sun do to their Lunar deity. For the first time, Nyx felt a sharp pang of pain and pity for the King of Shadows.

From somewhere in the present, she heard her aunt exclaim above her. “Child, my sister said your gift was abrupt and unstable and I did not believe her this entire year you were with us,” Andromache said, still holding the trembling mare. “Until this moment.”

When Nyx could untangle herself from the tidal wave of pain and loss she had shared with those in the vision, she drew slowly back, still breathing heavily, tears still not stopping their flow. The Queen let her go, nudging several large pillows under her to fall back into. “It - I’m better - “ Nyx managed to say, groping for water she gulped down greedily when it was handed to her.

“Hardly so, Nyx,” Andromache knew better. “You levitated, your eyes burned white. I heard the burning hatred in a stallion’s dark voice - “

“Sombra,” Nyx said, unable to keep her voice steady, but now out of pity and not fear.

“The pain in Luna’s cries,” the Queen continued. “It confirms what those in Kajeiri told us.”

The Priestess could only nod, still willing away the agony of emotions from those more powerful than her. Andromache saw how wrecked her niece was and allowed her the time and space she needed to recover. 

When Nyx felt she could speak with a shred more coherency again, her voice carried the same thoughts as her Aunt's. “It would appear to be best to avoid asking our Goddess for advice in this matter, auntie. Tearing such a wound open again would be unwise and cruel!”

“Indeed,” she agreed. “Instead, we will need to consult with her sister, Celestia.”

Nyx flinched at the thought. She didn't know why, but she had always had a fierce dislike for the Princess of the Sun. An inexplicable dislike bordering on hatred. She had spent hours at one point in her younger years in deep meditations, or attempts at meditation to learn the reason why, but the hatred was so intense it was almost like a primal instinct. She had finally given up, learning to accept it, putting to rest a turbulent part of her psyche that had left her untroubled ever since. 

“I will arrange a small party to accompany your visit to Canterlot once the temple dedication is done tonight. You can be ready to leave at first light.” 

Nyx groaned, causing Andromache to laugh. “I know how much you love to rise at dawn,” the Queen added, amused.

The TimeWitch’s only reply was to groan again, burying her head underneath a pillow. Andromache laughed.
> 13. A Deadly Exchange
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The blue-bodied pegasus looked all around before slipping under the back entrance to a gaudy tent set apart from the others in the Crystal Army camp. He looked around quickly, annoyed not for the first time at his ex-commander’s propensity to travel heavy with unnecessary pomp and trinkets. Everywhere there were spoils taken from campaigns - pelts from those in Yakyakistan unfortunate enough to have tried to defend their homeland from Sombra’s armies. They lined the floor of the tent from corner to corner, held down in place by several reclining platforms, gold-gilt chamber pots and a divan elaborate enough to carry one as highborn as their King - if he had been as possession-obsessed as Bomber had been. 

Taking a deep breath to center himself and still the nervous twitch of his wings, Gale Force thought back to the last time he and Night had both talked in private. It was just last evening. Here yesterday, gone today. Such was war. Spying a pair of gold and silver goblets from their prior evening’s repast, Gale sighed, picking one up. “You stupid bastard,” he sighed. “Did you have to seriously take leave of your senses so badly when you saw - ”

Eyes scanning the area of more personal effects as he contemplated Night’s foolishness, he saw a trinket box. “Yes!” the pegasus whispered, going to it, and grabbing an ear clip from a mirrored tray. “That was the easy part,” he sighed, trotting back the way he came.

He raised the tent’s back flap once again as he heard the voices of Iron Blade and Terrain outside.

“We shouldn’t be long, Commander,” a stallion said outside, closer to the dead Lieutenant’s tent than Gale Force was comfortable hearing.

“Good,” Iron Blade replied. “I can give you no estimate on how long Gale Force’s initiation will take. It depends on if he dies quickly or gives us a fair gallop for our bits.”

The pegasus shivered, as disturbed by his Commander’s casual tone as the implications of his words. Wasting no time, Force ducked under the tent flap, it settling back into place just as Iron Blade opened the front and trotted in.



It was a somber army of mares that trudged on ever Northwards, towards the stallions that hunted them. Word of Chakra’s hideous transfiguration and the warning message had done its work well to spread fear among the ranks. The pony guards surrounding their Queen had been scaled back slightly, but were still in evidence. Neris walked alongside her, along with the other Councilmares. Quiet Hoof was on her other side.

“He did this on purpose,” Queen Ainippe told them as they advanced, her tone even and measured, the barest hint of bitterness underlying it. She wrinkled her nose. “The scent of fear is mild among them, but there. It affected our sisters profoundly!”

“Yes,” Neris agreed. “And if this creature feeds on fear - “

Ainippe nodded grimly. 

“It will give him more power.” Quiet Hoof’s eyes widened. “Oh Goddess, that is why he’s doing it, isn’t it?”

“There is one who will not fear him, even though she should,” the older councilmare said beside them. “We should call upon her to bolster their courage.”

“Quiet, get me Xena,” the Queen instructed, turning to the earth pony. The scout nodded and went off. When she had left, the Marazon Queen raised her head. “We shall fight fear with confidence and the power of a mare well-trained and fearless.”

Despite their differences, Neris smiled. “A wise move,” she said simply. “Still, I am perplexed by something, Your Highness.”

Ainippe looked to her. “Yes?”

“How did this King of Fear know Nyx was at the Temple while we were at Mirror Lake? Do we have a traitor in our midst?”

“Doubtful,” the Queen shook her head. She glanced to her sides, to the faces of their sisters. All had hard looks of determination borne of mares who at the least had no used for stallions and at the most, hated them for deeply personal reasons. “Every filly born a Marazon who chose to stay with us after their attaining their first estrus and those who came to us because they were traumatized by a stallion, would rather die than consort with their kind ever again. No, I suspect it is for simpler reasons than that.”

Quiet Hoof returned with a copper and leather-clad mare who’s chestnut hide blended well into the brown leather jerkin she wore in place of the Marazon’s traditional body armor. Her mane and tail were a slightly lighter, almond shade with copper beads intertwined throughout them. A chakram of silver with copper etchings glittered in the sun, secured to her forearms by a special clip bolted to her armor. Her eyes were strikingly pale blue and intense. She bowed her head before the Queen, falling into step with her at her side. 

“Xena,” she acknowledged her in turn. “We have a special task for you whilst we travel. A moment, if you will." Ainippe’s attention went back to the elder councilmare. “Nay, Neris, we are dealing with a demon, to answer your question. Pure and simple. A demon in pony skin.”



It was a small contingent of a dozen plus two stallions that crossed the plains eastward and southerly, led by the crystal army scouts Sure Step, Terrain and the escort group’s leader, Dark Horse. With only one pegasus to provide ariel warning of advance scouts from the Marazon army and virtually no cover across the flatlands, all were on extreme edge. They would not have far to go before they got back to the spot where the Marazons were buried, but it might take a while for their enemy’s advance scouts to catch up to them, which is what the stallions were hoping for if the Marazon army was immediately behind them. While the males were all seasoned fighters, with the exception of Sure Step and Terrain, none wanted their tiny numbers to be up against hundreds of angry mares with no backup.

It was a relief to at last come upon the bodies of Night Bomber and the Marazon scouts. The party rested while waiting for the pegasus to return with news of their enemy’s position. To pass the time and tension, Sure Step and Terrain talked.

“Terrain, I have been wanting to ask you how you ever survived the first two campaigns,” the scout ventured after they ran out of smaller talk.

The palomino smiled slightly. “His Highness gave me an - advantage, shall we say?”

Step’s head bobbed in curiosity. “Yes, go on.”

“You may have a chance to witness it firsthand before this mission is over,” the earth pony grinned, not giving away and details.

“Oh, c’mon!” the scout laughed. “Tell me! We lost good stallions to those campaigns. Entire armies wiped out.”

“Mmmm...maybe,” Terrain shrugged.

Step’s eyes grew wide. “What do you mean ‘maybe’? Maybe you’ll show me or maybe they were wiped out?”

The palomino laughed. “I see now why you are a scout, Step. Better reign in that curiosity or it’ll get you killed.”

“Oh, there is a healthy dose of fear that keeps me alive, believe me,” Step laughed in turn. 

“How did you end up a scout then?” Terrain turned the line of questions back at him.

“I was always hiding from my sisters. When they wanted to ‘play’, they were relentless. I learned pretty quickly to avoid them when they wanted to humiliate me with forcing me to wear their underpinnings.”

Terrain laughed heartily. “You must tell me more on the return - “

He was interrupted when their pegasus scout shot down from the skies, nearly clipping their heads. “Hey - ” the earth pony began to complain.

The small band of stallions with them closed in quickly. Their leader asked the pegasus where the Marazons were and as luck would have it, they were still an hour away. Sure Step breathed out a deep sigh of relief. “Oh thank the darkness!”

“Will they see their fallen scouts on their current course?” Terrain asked.

“If they stay it, then yes,” the pegasus told them. “There is no deviation in the course they have run so far and no obstacles between here and there. Their tracks run a fairly straight course back to their army.”

“We can go back to camp then?” Sure Step asked.

Terrain shook his head. “No such luck, I’m afraid. We have to stay to make sure they will see them.”

Despite knowing this and having been prepared, there was a sullen silence in the small group. It seemed a thankless task with no glory and the promise of little action - everything not to their tastes. With no other choice, they settled in, resting up, even the pegasus, though he took back to the skies ever so often to recheck the enemy position.

While they waited, many of the soldiers went one-by-one or in pairs to admire the handiwork of their King’s makeshift crystal tomb for the fallen Marazons. It was twice the height of the stallions - a transparent, smoky quartz construct designed to keep the predators and buzzards away from the carcasses, effectively protecting them until their sisters could retrieve them for a proper Marazon warrioress’s funeral. It bore an etched relief of King Sombra’s crest rising from crystals, so there would be no doubt in the mare’s minds who had taken their sister’s lives once they arrived.

Night Bomber’s body lay outside it, without burial - the ultimate, final insult to a warrior who had also been a traitor to his Highness. Fortunately it had been less than a day since his death and the carrion birds had only recently discovered it, so Sombra’s forces were spared the stench of rotting flesh. The younger stallions failed to catch the significance of the lack of burial, so the more seasoned fighters explained it to them. It impressed them that their king paid such attention to details both in the crystal tomb and in the reasons behind the ex Lieutenant’s fate. No doubt the older ponies knew this and had seen the opportunity to teach them respect for the King of the Crystal Empire - respect that would translate into the loyalty demanded of them that would in turn extend their lives and allow them to share in the spoils of this peculiar campaign.



Closer to the hour being upon them, Sure Step started to get nervous. He approached Terrain and the warrior’s leader, Dark Horse, who had been conferring more and more as time had drug on. “Shouldn’t be we going before we’re spotted?” he asked them.

Dark placed a hoof on his shoulder. “Nay, my skittish scout,” he shook his head. “We are to stay until they arrive.”

Step looked to Terrain almost in a panic. “What?!?” he nearly squeaked. “But - “

“King’s and Blade’s orders, we’re afraid,” the palomino confirmed.

“Why didn’t you say something before now?” the earth scout whinnied crossly.

“To spare your nerves, Step!” Terrain laughed, slapping him on the flank. Laughter from the other stallions echoed behind him. Sure Step facehoofed himself hard for letting his ill ease show to these battle-hardened stallions.

“Scouts in range!” came the pegasus’s call from a short distance above. The crystal army stallions came alert and all eyes went to the horizon where the figures of the mares could be seen galloping towards them.



Sure Step squinted against the sun, straining to see their numbers more clearly. “Wait,” he said slowly. “There’s only four of them.”

Terrain and Dark exchanged smirks. “Yeah,” Dark agreed.

“Against a dozen of us,” the scout went on.

“Told you there was no reason to worry,” the warrior pony teased.

“No you didn’t!”



As soon as the mares could also count their numbers, they slowed, recovering from their long flight. The stallions looked them over as they came closer over the plains.

“They are lovely!” one soldier was heard to say.

“Well-toned from the look of them,” another agreed.

“This won’t be much of a fight,” another said. “More like a tryst!”

The stallions laughed at this as the four mares approached cautiously, the two warriors on alert, though having not drawn their swords yet. The other two - a unicorn and pegasus, were also alert, but in a more low key sort of way. 

Then, when the winds on the plains shifted, the subtle scent of estrus hit them. Having been deprived of mares for months, their bodies had an instant reaction that at once embarrassed and excited them no end.

“You have something of ours, stallions,” one female, a tan bodied, white-maned beauty spoke up, distracting them from their stirring stallionhoods.

Dark Horse grinned. “King Sombra sends you greetings, lovely ones,” he began, bowing in a gracious, yet slightly mocking manner.

The two Marazon warriors exchanged looks with the other two mares behind them, hardly believing what they were hearing. They laughed, then returned their attention to the males. “Excuse us?” the head mare replied. 

“Do we amuse you?” Dark asked. He gestured towards the crystal tomb. “I do not think you will jest so after you retrieve your fallen comrades.”

None of the mares moved to inspect the structure. They had seen it approaching and were not so easily distracted. 

During this exchange, Terrain had pulled Sure Step aside, standing just slightly away from the others. He appeared tense to the scout for reasons other than the current encounter could justify.

“This is no matter of jest, stallion,” the head mare replied. “You merely appear rather unnecessarily silver-tongued, as if you believe flattering words will get you favors.”

“We appreciate they were protected from predators. Apparently your king has more manners than yourselves,” the unicorn added, coming forward to stand with her sisters. She looked back to their healer. “Soothing Touch, I fear your services were needlessly hoped for. Go make sure this not a trap.”

“Yes, Outback,” Touch replied, turning to do as requested of her.

While she was cautiously inspecting the crystal structure, the warrior mares and unicorn studied the stallions before them. They were well-muscled and in fit condition, as had been expected. Under circumstances not dictated by war, they still would have ignored these males primal reaction to their pheromones and spurned them as unacceptable breeding stock even if they had been more handsome and not borne visible scars from battle. The females shook their heads and snorted in rejection even before they realized they were reacting just as primally to the stallions unwanted advances.

“‘touch?” the unicorn called out to their healer.

“Oh we will,” one of the stallions by Dark Horse’s side replied, eliciting laughter from his fellows. “And more,” the tactless one finished. They all enjoyed the joke at the mares expense, all sharing the jest except Terrain and Sure Step.

Meanwhile, behind them, Soothing Touch pressed the king’s insignia on the surface of the tomb and the walls dissolved, exposing their fallen sisters. “So far, no trap,” she reported back, her throat tightening at the sight of the mares who were beyond her ability to heal now.

Outback looked to the two stallions standing off to the side. “You hold your tongues well,” she told them. “Do you honor our leader’s wishes to go through with this return of our sisters with no further harm to either of our parties during this encounter?”

Terrain bowed slightly, tapping Sure Step’s side to do the same. He hastily followed his fellow stallion’s example. “We do, fair ones,” he replied carefully, looking up and into their eyes again. “All life is sacred, not to be defiled against thy wills.”

Touch nodded, satisfied with his reply. During this exchange the other crystal warriors had begun to surround the three mares. 

“You misunderstand our intentions, lovely ones,” the leader elaborated, loosely holding his sword at his side. “You shall have your dead - after we have you. And after all, how are we to address you not knowing all your names?” The other stallions agreed with their leader, several tossing their heads in excitement at his words.

"I want the amber one,” one male said, licking his lips, obviously more excited than the others.

The three mares narrowed their eyes or rolled them in disgust. They raised their swords. Their leader smiled grimly. “You will have our names, pigs, before we send you to Tartarus. Remember for the last few seconds of life you have that Outback has promised you this…”



Hours later back at the Crystal Army camp…

“Come,” King Sombra called out.

Captain Iron Blade stepped in, bowing before approaching. Sombra waved him at ease.

“You look refreshed, Blade,” the king grunted in amusement.

The red stallion’s magic was hovering a towel behind his ears, drying the last of his body. “Can’t say anypony will want to take a dip in that river we bathed in for at least half a day. We spilled as much blood and sweat into it as we did during Gale Force’s initiation.”

“Indeed - a good run, but you and they need some rest before we take on the mares. Be certain you get it.” he paused, considering something. “We did not get a chance to discuss what you may have found in Night Bomber’s tent after the scouts left on their mission.”

“Beyond a display of gaudiness and materialism that would shame the Saddle Arabians, nothing that could be called suspicious or noteworthy,” Blade shrugged. “I see no reason to deny its spoils to his successor to do with as he sees fit.”

“Hmmm...very well. Any word from our scouts?” Sombra inquired, changing the subject.

The captain shook his head. “No, and that is peculiar. They should have been back by now. I sent word through the army to be ready in case their long absence is a bad sign.”

“Very good.”

“The scouts have returned!” somepony yelled outside. 

Sombra rose, heading for the tent’s entrance. Wordlessly the two stallions stepped out to greet them.



There was a ripple of unease as Sure Step and Terrain were escorted into the main encampment. As Sombra and Blade approached them, they could see they were bruised and bloodied, their sides heaving with the exertion of galloping and Step had a noticeable limp. The two scouts were given seats and water while several medics came to inspect their wounds. A small crowd of Lieutenants cleaned up from their ceremony, gathered as well, curious. When the scouting party saw their Commander and King approach, they stood, but Sure’s leg buckled out from under him and Iron Blade waved him back down as the medics assisted him in getting off his hooves again.

“So much for a simple exchange,” the Commander muttered in Sombra’s direction. He turned to the stallions. “What happened?”

“The Marazon scouts arrived and the exchange was going well until Dark Horse decided that raping them was part of the deal for them to get their dead back,” Terrain spat in disgust.

“They took no mild offense at that,” Sure added, biting his lip as his wounds were cleaned and bandaged.

Blade looked in the direction they had come. “And you two are the only ones left? How many were in their party?”

“Four, sire - and one was a medic,” Step replied.

“Four?” Blade’s eyes widened. “A dozen warriors were beat by four, no three mares?!?” 

“They slaughtered them, sir,” the wounded scout added. “At first the stallions thought they could go easy on them to save something for their fun later, but,” he shook his head.

“A stupid and fatal error,” King Sombra rumbled, shaking his head. 

“They are faster and much more agile than us, Sire,” Step warned them all.

“And exceedingly vicious when angered,” Terrain added.

Blade turned to the palomino. “How did you two survive?”

“We did not antagonize them, Commander,” he replied. “I and Sure Step physically distanced ourselves from the others, and,” he rolled his front left shoulder gingerly, testing it, hissing when it protested. “when they asked if we were a party to those who wanted to assault them, I told them we were not, that we honored our King’s wishes to merely return their dead.”

“So they went easy on us,” Step sighed. “Didn’t feel like it at the time, but considering the circumstances…” he trailed off.

“It is just as well Dark Horse did not return,” Blade rumbled, angered. “I’d have killed him if he’d survived.”

Step and Terrain looked at each other with a profoundly uncomfortable look.

“What?” the red stallion asked them, catching their discomfort.

Terrain sighed heavily and his companion looked as if he might become ill. The palomino reached for a pouch he had been carrying. “Well, Commander, if you wish to punish him further, they did allow us to bring him back…” He opened the pouch and drew out the head of Dark Horse, a surprised look still etched into his dead features.
> 14. Predictions and Secrets
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Hey Terrain, have you seen Sure Step?”

The palomino turned at the sound of his name. “I think he’s in the medical tent, Aim,” he replied. 

The archer nodded. “How’s the shoulder?”

“Sore,” the earth pony replied. “Good thing I’m a scout ‘cause I think I’ll be off the playing field for a few days.” He looked around the encampment at the many other warriors in their army. “I just hope I’m good enough to travel by the time this campaign is over.”

True Aim nodded. 

Terrain snorted. “There will be no room on the carts to carry me back along with all our other wounded once this is done.”

The archer shrugged. Having never been in a war against mares before, it was hard to comprehend their staying longer than a day or two for what was certain to be an easy victory. “I would not have believed they were that vicious,” he replied, voicing his thoughts.

“Believe it. Just ask Dark Horse,” the palomino grunted before he trotted off, nodding towards a stake placed in the center of the camp.

Aim followed his gaze. He had been occupied at the other end of the camp when Terrain and Sure Step had returned from facing off against the Marazons and had only heard what had happened from the rumors that had circulated faster than fire afterwards. Not one to believe wild rumors, especially what he had been told, he had come to check on Sure Step and find out the truth at the same time. His eyes traveled up the pole - a plain, wooden stake from the local trees, it turned crimson two shoulder lengths higher up. His eyes went wide upon reaching the top. Ears flattening back against his skull, he whined softly, backpedaled, turned and hurried off in the opposite direction to the medical tent.



“The scouts return!” came the cry through the ranks of the halted Marazon army.

Almost in a single gesture, nearly all the mares within hearing range perked up, stopped what they were doing, and turned towards the west.

Soon the scouting expedition came within sight of all, pulling a litter they had specifically taken with them to bring back their dead.

Two healer apprentices that had attended Fly Away, along with two guards, galloped ahead to greet them. Queen Ainippe watched from where she and the Councilmares were going over their battle strategies with their lead war mare, Commander Xena. 

Fly Away came out of the ranks behind the council, galloping towards the returning warriors. She was followed by several guards who had been tasked with keeping her under close observation until they could be certain she was no longer possessed by Sombra’s dark magic.

“That may not be a good idea, letting Fly see them so soon,” Neris remarked. 

Ainippe glanced at Xena wordlessly. The grey-eyed warrioress took the cue and spoke up. “She will require closure, Councilmare, in order to heal faster and be of use again in battle. Best she  starts it sooner than later.”

“Especially since we are due to engage the stallions so soon,” another mare on the council spoke up. 

They were interrupted by the healers returning with the retrieval team’s leader, Outback. The unicorn saluted the Queen and her council. “Your Highness, Council.”

“It is good to see all of you returned to us unharmed,” Ainippe nodded. “You do yourselves honor taking the risk to bring our sisters home.”

“Thank you, your Highness,” Outback bowed. “We cannot say the same for those beasts who served the demon king, however.” She glanced behind her as her other two warrior comrades joined her, leaving Healing Touch to stay with the bodies.

“What do you mean, Outback?” asked Neris, her eyes narrowing.

“They have been without mares for too long,” the white-maned mare snorted. The others rolled their eyes in agreement and disgust. She drew out a blood-stained sword with the black tail hair of a stallion threaded through the open knotwork on its hilt. “I brought back his tail to adorn my sword with. The filth thought they would mount us in payment for returning our sisters to us.” She snorted in disgust. 

“Worse than animals,” one of the councilmares spat. “At least beasts have courtship rituals. These dogs feel entitled.”

“Except two of them,” one of Outback’s warriors spoke up. “They took no part and we spared them their lives.”

The Queen appeared unsurprised by this news, merely nodding in approval. 

“Your highness, we did find a peculiar thing when we arrived,” the leader added. “There was already a stallion dead near our fallen sisters. A pegasus...dark, with gold braided throughout his mane and tail.”

Neris perked up at this.

“He too had been struck by the same crystals that took down our sisters. The crystal army had left him unburied, at the mercy of the carrion,” Outback finished.

“The death looked to have happened at the same time as our flyer’s deaths,” the other scout added.

Ainippe and Neris traded looks, then addressed the returned party. “Walk with us,” the Queen beckoned as she and the older councilmare broke away from the others, towards the litter with the corpses. When they were out of earshot, the Queen spoke again. “Neris, do you think…”

The elder mare was unusually quiet, even shaken. She shook her head tightly.

“He did have this on his ear,” Outback drew something out of a pouch, something that shined in silver. She dropped it into the Queen’s open hoof. “It is of Marazon design,” she added.

Neris froze, staring at it. Ainippe placed a hoof on the councilmare’s withers. “I grieve with you,” she said quietly. “The loss of a child, even in battle, is never easy.”

The two healers had come back by now with the death cart and Fly Away, who was quietly whinnying and crying. Neris acknowledged the Queen’s gesture of sympathy, but eyed the grieving pegasus. “Fly?”

Fly Away turned her tear-stained face to the older mare. Neris held out the earcuff for her to see. Fly merely nodded, continuing past her towards their army. “Outback showed it to me,” she replied even and quietly as she walked past, flicking her ear where she bore a similarly designed Marazon family earcuff.

“Daughter, your brother has fallen,” Neris spoke out. “We need to stick together at this time - “

“Save it, mother,” the pegasus said in a now choked voice. “Let me be.”

The councilmare trotted after her. Feeling no desire to get involved in their family affairs, Ainippe turned her attention back to the bodies of their fallen scouts. She placed a hoof on one mare’s mane, staring back for a moment at Outback’s sword, it’s new adornment of tail hair swishing as she cantered back to the herd.

Stroking the dead mare’s mane back down into place, she sighed. “Blood has been spilt for blood,” she told her quietly. “Not your killer’s - he is a King and many, many more may have to fall against his power to avenge you, sister. But know that you - you both,” she glanced over at the other fallen flyer. “Have died with honor. I only hope Nyx will be with us long enough to escort your essences to the Other World.”



In the camp of the Crystal Army, Iron Blade sat a short distance from the King’s tent, polishing his sword. It had seen scant action thus far this campaign and he caught himself fussing over it quite a bit - sharpening it, polishing, checking the blade for nicks. It longed as much as his restless soul did for action. 

There were no other stallions nearby and that suited him just fine, though not the reason for their scarcity. They were giving a wide berth to the stake set in the ground a few yards in front of him, its crimson stain slowly making its way towards the dirt. Blade grunted, unsure whether to chew Sombra out for such a gruesome display of one of their own who had died in the Shadow King’s service, or whether he was more annoyed at the army who cringed before death so easily.

True, there were a few new recruits and those were still uneasy about killing. It couldn’t be helped as they had run short of young and fit, yet seasoned fighters whilst recruiting for this journey, but he saw another side of the more experienced ones as they too avoided the area. After watching them for a time, the red stallion realized what was bothering them so much.

He had to talk to Sombra about it.

As if hearing his thoughts, Sombra came out of his tent, squinting in annoyance at the bright, noonday sun. Out here, in the open, at the foot of the Seven Mare Mountains, there was not as much cover as had been around the original Marazon encampment and for most of their trek southwards and it had naturally annoyed the King of Shadows. Melting into a more pliable form, he snaked across the face of the tent, sticking to its shaded, cooler side. Iron Blade watched him from the corner of his eye, but lost track of the moving darkness at its edge closest to him. It did not matter. He knew where the King was going to appear - 

The Commander glanced down, noticing he now cast not one, but two shadows, the one not his own sprouting emerald and crimson eyes, their piercing gaze demanding his attention.

Blade grunted in acknowledgement of his lord’s presence, but turned his eyes back to his sword.

“You lavish that blade with the affection of a lover,” the darkness rumbled in amusement.

Another grunt. “She keeps me alive, commands respect and in turn I make love to her,” the red stallion said simply. “There is little else to do while awaiting battle.”

“It has always been your way,” the shadow admitted. The eyes turned, gazed at the pole and the Commander could feel its mood change, growing brooding, then irritated, remembering well why he had hefted Dark Horse’s head up onto a pole for all to see. If Blade didn’t stop the restless Umbrum’s slowly-building anger over it, it would be bad for everypony.

“I think you’ve made your point, my friend,” he began respectfully. “Though I will have to explain your actions to the ignorant and seasoned fighters alike.”

The shadow turned away from the pole to look at Iron Blade. “Fine. Make sure they understand.”

“They understand it was a stupid mistake on Dark’s part,” the red horse acknowledged. “but it also disturbs some that he had been loyal to you for many years and ended up like this.”

“He will have his burial, Blade,” the shadow rumbled. “but not before the point is driven home.”

“And it has been, my king. Surely you do not require me to tell you that. Have you not felt their fear at the sight of this?”

“Their fear has been a most satisfying meal,” the Umbrum admitted, unmistakable pleasure underlying the dual-echoed tone to his voice. “A last service to his king, even after death.” He paused, then resumed in a slightly surprised tone. “Surely you do not believe that is all this is about, Blade.”

“Is it, Sombra?” Blade asked, careful to keep his tone as neutral as possible. “The motive fit well into your lesson. After gorging on the terror of that Priestess in the temple, was it a little too rich and sweet to not experience again?”

“Take care, Blade. You tread where others have perished,” the shadow rumbled, growing in size, darkness growing thicker, rising from the ground now.

The Commander sighed. “I just don’t want to see you lose yourself to that damnable appetite again. That and the frustration of having this TimeWitch evade you when she was in hoof’s grasp would gnaw at anypony.”

The concern in his friend’s sincere tone calmed the restless Umbrum. He took solid form within the darkness, still attached at the base of Blade’s shadow, not fully in pony form and yet more substantial than before. Iron Blade’s gaze met the jewel-like eyes steadily, showing neither flinching nor fear - only the caring many years, trials and campaigns had fostered for such a creature of darkness.

The three dimensional shadow broke away from the red stallion, gaining familiar, solid pony features until Sombra stood before him in the flesh.

The king nodded. “Perhaps you are right, Blade. The point has been made and I must keep my anger in check, save it for its proper place in battle.” Without looking up at the stake, he added. “I will remove Dark Horse. Speak with the army, but to make some amends for this, I would require something of them - and you afterwards, my long-time friend...”



Quiet Hoof looked around, taking in the two dozen warriors accompanying her northwards, and sighed. 

“Something the matter?” Xena asked her.

The scout’s tanned ears drooped. She shook her head.

“She would prefer to have stayed with the Queen,” Xena’s co-commander Outback replied for her.

“So would I.” The warrior mare glanced at her. Hoof looked away from the ground and met her gaze. “She’s one of the few who can keep the peace between Neris and her Highness.”

“They always find a way to antagonize each other. I just smooth things over as I can.” The mare shrugged, adjusting the bow and quiver across her back until they felt more balanced. 

Xena smiled. “You underestimate yourself, Quiet. You have a way of calming even an angry stallion...I’ve seen you do it.” She noticed the scout lift her head, her eyes unfocusing even as her legs automatically carried her along with the others through the patchy grasses below sheltering, twisted oak trees. Xena couldn’t put her finger directly on it, but she did not believe that was what was bothering the scout. 

The scout mare snapped her head up, causing Xena to look around, wondering at first if Quiet Hoof had heard something they should be aware of outside their hunting party. Neither seeing nor hearing anything unusual, she looked back to her. “What is it? Do you sense something ahead?”

“No, I - no,” she replied. “But we should - be careful.”

“Of course we should,” Outback snorted in agreement. “This is a fool’s errand, retrieving Neris’s bastard child’s rotting corpse. How the Tartarus she talked the council into backing her up in this insanity, I’ll never know.”

“You’ve never had a foal, have you, Outback?” Xena stated more than asked.

“Of course not! And if I had, it wouldn’t have been as arrogant as Night Swift - if he even kept that name undercover, which I doubt.”

“Well,” the grey-eyed mare reasoned. “Think of it as retrieving one of your squad, then. Perhaps that will make more sense to you.”

Her co-commander said nothing and Xena turned back to Quiet Hoof who still carried that somewhat distant look in her green eyes that told her she was uninterested, preoccupied with - something. “Come on, out with it. We’ll need you focused and you are a hundred hoofsteps away from us. What’s on your mind?”

Quiet Hoof gestured for the two of them to move slightly away from the others. Xena followed, veering out of the others earshot, but going in the same direction as the rest of their party. The warrior mare could see hesitancy and conflict in her companion’s eyes and her posture, but in the end, the desire to unburden herself won out. “Years ago, before the crystal armies came to our lands, I dreamed this journey,” she said at last. “Or part of it, at least.”

Xena didn’t believe in prophetic dreams, but kept her opinions to herself for the moment and instead asked, “What part?”

The scout nodded back to their party. “Us - those chosen, and how many. And the direction and terrain we are crossing.” She looked up at the slowly drifting westward sun of the later afternoon, regarding it for a moment, then looking back at the leather-clad warrioress. “And - another.”

“Who?”

Hoof shivered. “I dismissed it as nonsense at first...we were young and full of energy and curiosity and I mean, I have never seen such a striking color of stallion, so where could my mind have wandered to produce such a fantasy?” She paused for a long moment, but caught the steely eyes of her Marazon sister on her, waiting for her to continue.

“He was blood red, a unicorn, with eyes as grey as yours, actually,” she continued. “I dreamed he had captured me - a slave collar around my neck...he was, well...he...“ she swallowed, her step cantering unevenly with the stress of the memory.

“It’s all right,” Xena tried to soothe her. “It was just a dream.”

Quiet shook her head firmly. “No, it...I...after three nights of the same dream, I was tired, worn out. I didn’t know what it meant and I was afraid to go to sleep. I visited the temple to meditate and clear it out of my head and Nyx nodded when she came in and saw me and said, ‘You fear the red one...a bloody blade of iron.’

“Nyx and I grew up as fillies together, but after her rite of passage went so horribly wrong, mother distanced us. I didn’t want to, but Nyx grew so strange, so erratic. Her magic was dangerous - and all over the place.” She paused to swallow uneasily. “Going back to the temple years after we were separated, I no longer knew her as well as when we were children and I didn’t know what to make of what she had said. It upset me, but I had come for answers, so I ignored her and meditated, trying to find them on my own.

“Two nights there and all that happened was the dreams turned stranger...the stallion smelled so good, he had me pinned and I was drunk with him...I didn’t care…

“It was so confusing. By the third day I was I was desperate and so sleep deprived I could barely get out of bed. The Priestesses asked me if I was ready to see Nyx, but she already knew I would say yes and came in before they called her.

“She said I felt helpless, powerless and that was causing the terror. She said that was only half of the dream, that my fear was holding back the other half I needed to see. She walked with me - just as Princess Luna had nights before, but this time in a waking state.

“With Nyx there, now I was holding the beating heart of the blood-red stallion in my hooves while he yet lived. We kissed and…” She trailed off, this time without fear in her voice. “That changed everything,” she continued after a moment. “I felt calmer, more in control. I slept half a day until I’d recovered. I haven’t had the dream since, but I will never forget her words...a bloody blade of iron...to this very day I still do not know what she meant.”

They walked on for a while as her companion mulled the story over in her mind. “I don’t know, Quiet Hoof,” she finally said. “but I do know you are the least aggressive of us. The thought that you could hold a still-beating heart in your hooves - I cannot picture it at all!”

The tan-colored scout laughed. “I know. Silly, right?”

Xena smiled. “Right! Now, go if you’re better for the telling, draw ahead and see if our flyer has spotted anything unusual for you to check out.”

Feeling as if a weight had been lifted from her heart, Quiet smiled, nodded and cantered off, sticking to the higher golden grasses her hide blended in with so well. Very quickly she was lost to the other’s sight and finally even Xena lost track of her progress.

Waiting another moment, she rejoined Outback and the others. “She okay?” the mare asked her.

Xena’s eyes betrayed no answer as she stared ahead, senses alert for any danger. “I don’t believe this will be an easy retrieval of one dead stallion,” she stated. “We should expect trouble - and plenty of it.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Outback, you were with me in the last campaign against the stallions. Do you remember what the crystal army’s weapons were made out of?”

“Of course,” she replied. “Iron.”

Xena nodded. “Iron.” 



Terrain, being the least injured of the two survivors, glanced over at the new reconnaissance party he had been assigned to as they crossed the plains at the base of the Seven Mare Mountains. On one hoof he felt safer with the larger party - three handpicked Lieutenants and their Commander, Iron Blade. On the other, he felt sure that the next time they saw the enemy there would be more than just a handful of mares standing in their way. 

Still, he focused on taking comfort in the quiet, confident strides of the red stallion and his Lieutenants. This time there was no joking, no bravado or egos along for the ride. They would focus on getting the job done and returning to the crystal army as fast as possible - and intact.
Iron Blade was known for his fierce discipline in battle, yet with the ability to instantly adapt and change tactics as soon as he gauged the situation demanded it for their survival - traits they would need when, not if, the next skirmish took place. 

The three Lieutenants Blade had picked to accompany them - Crimson Mane, Smasher and Fire Bow, while most excellent fighters, had just survived an initiation of one of their own and were not fully recovered yet. They had, however, been the least injured and the healers had done their best tending to their wounds. Even so, they were still better warriors than any of the others with them save Iron Blade.

Terrain recalled what he knew of the three; Crimson was one of two bat ponies within the ranks of the Lieutenants. Besides being the best of the flyers at night reconnaissance and stealth, both pony’s fangs gave them the advantage of being able to rip prey apart as they carried it off. The two often worked as a team, spreading terror among the enemy by carrying off a victim, ripping it to pieces in midair and raining the gruesome results down on those below them. It was a shocking enough tactic to cause the distraction and chaos needed to turn a battle towards their advantage.

It was not hard to recall Smasher’s talents. He was a beast of an earth pony who’s muscle mass was larger than the others, but not overtly so. It was a clever deception that belied their steel-like strength until it was too late for his victims to stand against him. He could break a forged sword with his bare hooves as easily as he could crush half the rib cage of a stallion in one blow.

The last lieutenant, Fire Bow, was orange with black hooves, mane and tail. His eyes were a disturbing color mixture that flickered like embers of red-hot coals in a forge. His talent was as a fire-starter - useful from tending campfires, to lighting arrows in battle in mid-flight and upon impact, or worse, focusing his unicorn magic to focus the rays of the sun wherever he pleased to ignite brush and flesh alike while in battle. Those who laughed at him for being a mere archer in his Majesty’s army discovered quickly he was the last pony they mocked as he ignited the very air in their lungs and watched them burn with little to no emotion save fascination.

Whether the Commander believed these three horrific individual’s talents would actually be required on such a simple retrieval mission, Terrain had no idea. He was just grateful that now the army’s leaders were taking things a little more seriously this trip around and actually relaxed as they covered the territory towards their goal.

“Okay, Terrain, out with it.”

The question startled the palomino just as he had gotten comfortable with the return trip towards their destination.  “Sir?”

“You’ve been edgy about this campaign ever since it was Sombra’s intent to come this time around,” Iron Blade stated. He turned his sharp, grey eyes to the scout. “You know something I do not and I don’t like that. Secrets costs lives.”

Terrain glanced over at the two ground Lieutenants and bat pony flying low with them. They were focused on the mission, staring straight ahead, always alert for danger, but the subtle twitch of their ears in the two stallion’s direction gave the palomino no illusion of privacy. Oh well…

He gestured away, changing his stride to lead the Commander away from the herd slightly and Iron Blade followed. A click and a gesture from the red stallion directed the Lieutenants to stay with the others and they obeyed instantly, without thinking, moving away to give the two privacy.

Satisfied with the distance, Terrain took a deep breath and blew it out. “It’s going to be a slaughter, mi’lord.”

Blade thought about this for a moment. “Of whom?” he asked.

“Both sides,” Terrain said in a low voice despite their distance from the others.

“And you base this information on what exactly?” asked the Commander. “Their prowess? We never found the bodies of our soldiers from the last two campaigns. There is no proof - ”

“That is because there are no bodies,” Terrain replied cryptically. “And yes, the Marazons fighting skills, but that is neither how nor why we lost two legions of stallions.”

The red stallion snorted. “You will find very quickly that I am not a patient stallion, Terrain. If you are holding back information that endangers even just one of us, I will gut you myself.”

“I cannot hold back information I do not have, Commander,” the scout nearly pleaded. “All I know is what I saw in the future, but not in the now.”

“What?” Blade was confused enough he came to a dead stop.

“I never lived through this fight, Commander,” explained Terrain. “I was thrown into the future days from now, after we won!”
> 15. The Adornments of Destiny
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Iron Blade’s eyes narrowed. Clearly he didn’t believe Terrain. “Thrown?” he questioned, moving closer to him as to make him back up. “Into the future, you say?”

The earth pony nodded, feeling a twinge of nervousness at how his story was being received. “Yes, yes sir.” Out of the corner of his eye he could see the Lieutenants taking notice of their commander’s sudden change in posture and starting to make their way over to the two stallions, curious as to what was transpiring.

Blade noted the three new arrivals, but kept his sharp gaze on the palomino. “That is hard to believe, scout, especially for a warhorse like me.” 

Terrain felt the unyielding bulk of Smasher behind him and froze, swallowing. In front of him, eyes locked onto Blade’s, he heard the sound of the commander’s sword unsheath at the red stallion’s side and soon the glint of steel in the sunlight in the corner of his eye.

“I am a simple stallion, you see,” Blade went on. “I rely on this,” the blade moved slightly closer to Terrain’s throat. “My magic and the loyalty of my army. I leave the esoteric magic and implausibility of travel through time to his Majesty.” 

The scout said nothing, his mind racing and numb at the same time. Despite having been through this before, he wasn’t sure that anything he said would change the commander’s mind if he decided this time to slit his throat. There was always that thought in the back of his mind that Blade knew Sombra trusted Terrain and would be annoyed if the scout were to die, but time, as he had already seen in his future, was always in flux.

Lowering his gaze, Terrain sighed. “I am tempted, Commander, to let you slit my throat.”

This threw Iron Blade. Cocking his head back, he glanced at the other two Lieutenants, the bat pony, Crimson Mane, having been sent out to scout ahead for the enemy a while earlier. Other than raising their eyebrows and exchanging glances with each other, they offered no reaction.

“You are that eager to die?” he asked, his grey eyes fixing on Terrain’s again.

The palomino shook his head. “No, sir. I am not, but it might be better than this endlessly repeating my life up to this point in time.” He dared now to look Blade in the eye. “Nyx said I have a choice, that not all events in time are fixed, but she also confided in me that I would be saving both you and, well, another mare’s lives if I made this sacrifice of my future.”

The wind across the grassy plains kicked up at that point, sending a shiver through not just the red stallion’s hide, but his very soul, reminding him of his father’s old saying about feeling that somepony had just walked over his grave.

Sombra’s commander hated hesitation. Hesitation killed any who fell victim to it in battle. Deciding it was not worth letting the ramblings of one horse weaken his resolve and status in front of several of his highest-ranking Lieutenants, he poised the tip of his razor-sharp blade at Terrain’s throat. The earth pony seemed to accept this, closing his eyes and offering no resistance.

Time seemed to pause, to hold its breath, as it always did when one being was poised on the brink of making a life-altering decision such as this. The pause stronger with not just one, but two lives at stake, and unhurried without the fire of battle raging about them, it allowed the red stallion that precious moment of meditation and clarity of mind to realize something before he drove the point into the scout’s neck.

In fact, it was several somethings. 

“You spoke with their Priestess?” he asked the scout. 

“Aye, sir,” Terrain replied.

“Why did you not tell us before this?” the Commander pressed, lowering his blade. “And who is this ‘other mare’ you speak of?”

“The memory of it was hazy,” the scout replied honestly. “Being thrown about in time, it disoriented me, though now, so close to being thrown again, I think, things are coming more into focus.” Looking up into the sky, he nodded. “He’ll find two dozen mares heading towards us,” the earth pony continued cryptically. “Following the line of the groves east of here.”

“How do you know - “ Blade started to say.

“Commander,” interrupted Fire Bow. “Crimson returns!”

All three looked to the skies as the bat pony made his approach. He landed silently in front of them and bowed. “Commander,” he saluted.

“Crimson,” Iron Blade acknowledged. “your report.”

“There are two dozen mares heading towards us,” he began, echoing Terrain exact words. 

The two earth-bound lieutenants exchanged glances that were more surprised this time.

“Yes?” Blade replied, eyeing Terrain.

“They are following the line of the groves east of here,” Crimson finished.

Iron Blade turned his attention back to their earth scout, appearing less than impressed at the coincidence of the exactness of the news and Terrain’s prediction. “This proves nothing,” he said flatly. “You could have been informed of this by their Priestess.”

Terrain shifted and felt his pack move slightly, suddenly reminding him of something. Something he realized he had been foolish to bring along. Before he could stop himself, he glanced nervously at it.

“Whatcha got in there?” Fire Bow asked, noticing the palomino’s twitchiness.

“I - “ Terrain’s mouth went dry. 

Iron Blade reached for his pack. “Commander, please, do not - “ the palomino warned him, trying desperately to get away from him.

Smasher grabbed the scout painfully by the hoof, dragging him back towards the commander.  When Blade was within half a foreleg of touching the saddlebag, felt a wave of sickening dizziness. He staggered, the world going blurry.

“What sort of magic is this?” the stallion asked, shaking his head to clear it. When it didn’t work, Crimson and Fire Bow grabbed Terrain between them. They too felt strange, mildly dizzy, but nothing like what Sombra’s second-in-command appeared to be experiencing.

“Get him away from me!” Blade ordered, feeling the ground slip beneath his hooves, his outstretched hoof fighting his control as some unknown force pulled it closer to the saddle pack.

Smasher grabbed his Commander, certain it would be easy to draw him back, yet finding a near-immovable force resisting his efforts. Grunting, the earth pony wrapped both forelegs around Blade, dug his heels into the ground and strained to drag him backwards.

The other two Lieutenants also strained in their attempt to drag the earth scout in the opposite direction. After a long moment of all the stallions snarling, grunting and straining yet gaining only a few inches of distance, Smasher was able at last to pull Blade back with a violent snap that threw them both to the ground.

Everypony involved began to immediately return to their feet, panting, yet undamaged. 

“What the Tartarus was that?!?” Fire Bow exclaimed when his heart stopped beating so fast.

“That is what I would like to know!” Iron Blade snarled, summoning his blade instantly back to his side.

Terrain had crawled back to his feet as well, willing his own heart to stop pounding. “It - it was proof, Commander. Proof that I am from the future.” Reaching in, he slowly drew out a blue headband with a tiny crescent moon of silver on either side holding delicate-looking ribbons together. Next came a necklace of thick, blue fabric bands woven into an elaborate braid, a clasp of two crescent moons back-to-back holding it together. “These,” he held it out for all of them to see. “are from one of the mares in that party coming towards us.”

“Bewitchments,” Crimson Mane declared.

“Not in of themselves, no. But...” Terrain pulled out a small clump of red, coarse hair caught in the weave of the necklace.

“A stallion’s hair,” Fire Bow said, peering closer at what the scout held. “So what?”

Iron Blade tried to look at what the palomino held, but it made his vision blurry and his head ache. Annoyed, he raised a hoof, rubbing his eyes. “I - cannot focus on it. A stallion’s coat, you say?”

“A red stallion,” Crimson elaborated. “In fact, sir,” he peered harder at his Commander’s sleek hide. “It is a dead match for your own coloring.”

“Not just a match,” Terrain nodded. “Your hair, caught in her necklace as you two struggled - or will struggle.”

Blade’s grey eyes caught his. “A trick,” he said, disbelieving. “Who gave you these?”

“No trick, sir,” the earth pony replied. “You give them to me - in the future.” After making certain to remove all the red hairs out of the braid, he gave it and the headband to Fire Bow to give to their Commander. 

Slowly, cautiously, Fire Bow approached Iron Blade after the red stallion gestured him closer. The Commander took the mare’s adornments when their proximity proved to be harmless enough. 

“Take care,” the palomino warned his superior officer. “When you meet her, if she is wearing these items, DO NOT let them touch each other! It would be disastrous.”

“What would happen?”

“Worse than what we all experienced just now,” Terrain answered. “Much, much worse. It feels like time - well, it feels like time sort of coils up around you and - snaps. It’s difficult to explain or even comprehend unless you experience it for yourself.”

The stallion examined them, catching the scent of a mare still clinging to the headband.  The trappings the scout could have obtained from any mare during the prior campaigns, yet very faintly, he could detect his own, unique scent lingered on them and, as much as he wanted to refute their origins, that scent was definitely harder to explain. “Who is she?” he asked, eyes going back up to Terrain’s.

“From what I have seen sir, she is your destiny.”
> 16. Is It You?
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Far ahead of the stallions, Commander Xena’s retrieval party had reached the ‘site where Night Bomber’s body still lay. There had been little that could be done to stop the decay - only Nyx was possessed of magic that could effect such a remarkable feat, so those with a stronger constitution attended to his corpse while the others veered east, towards a grove of sycamore trees at the base of the Seven Mare Mountains while their scouts flew ahead to scan for the enemy. 

Xena, Outback and Quiet Hoof, along with a few others, wound deep into the groves where the local flora and fauna was thickest and would be effective at hiding their scent. To be safe, they stuck to where the winds were in their favor, blowing back eastward, so as to not give them away in case the crystal army came into the vicinity sooner than they were expecting.

This section of Western Equestria was resplendent with dotted cover along the plains and renowned for its isolated lakes and hot springs. Quiet Hoof went to one of two co-joined lakes while the two commanders split off to set some traps for the stallions not far from where she was. As long as the scouts warning calls were not heard, it was safe to relax and let her guard down. Though she never completely relaxed on these campaigns except when surrounded by her sisters, it was hard to stay tense in this beautiful setting. 

She studied her reflection in its surface a moment, frowning at the way her windblown mane had been disturbed by their run to this place and the tall, dry brush that had clung to her as she had scouted ahead of the group. 

Absently she ran a hoof through to settle it back down while thinking about what she had told Xena on the way here. Confiding in the grey-eyed warrior mare at once bothered her and yet also made her feel she had unburdened a long-kept secret. Ever since the crystal army had first set hoof in their lands, the scout had felt unnerved, recalling Nyx’s strange words as the newcomers had borne hides of so many different colors - many never seen by Marazons before. Her tribe tended towards shades that blended either with their tawny-hued lands, the grey rock of the seven mare mountains or even the greens and blues of the coastal waters - as was Queen Ainippe’s colors. To see males - while unusual - was not unheard of. It had been their brighter, harsher shades that seemed to beckon to the younger, less disciplined mares among them...those who had not yet felt the defiling touch of a stallion, or the chafing pain of shackles and chains of their oppressors and worse and more dangerous - those in the throes of their first, powerful estrus. A small handful of the latter had been lost to the invaders through their foolish curiosity - “natural selection”, Nyx would call it. The Queen agreed, using the term “survival of the smartest”. And while Quiet Hoof was still weeks from what the healers deemed would be her first estrus, she was already wise enough to know from witnessing her friend’s seasons that such a state was barely controllable for the young. Another week and she would be rotated out of battle and sent safely away from the temptation of any stallion’s nearness to complete her Seasoning Rites through the “Mare’s Mysteries” for hers and the Herd’s sakes.

Pondering that made her recall another strange thing Nyx had done even before the stallion invaders had first come to their lands. When Quiet and her mother had come to the Temple to the Queen regarding Hoof’s first estrus and scheduling the ceremony, Nyx had been in the room at the time. The Queen had given them an uncomfortable look and glanced at Nyx. Turning back to the mare and her daughter, she had gone on and set the date, but the TimeWitch continued to smile to herself in the background. Quiet had not thought to ask the Queen or Nyx about their peculiar looks, but when the ceremony was abruptly delayed due to the crystal army’s invasion in the following days, it then occurred to the tawny-colored mare it was because the TimeWitch had known of the impending war.

Quiet dipped a hoof in the cool waters of the lake, briefly wondering how many more legions would be sent against them before this Unicorn King would tire of chasing after Nyx. She felt certain he was as annoyed at the efforts to catch her as her tribe was of repelling these invaders. Very few knew what the crystal army was really after, but there were rumors, and some felt that if handing the TimeWitch over to this Shadow King would make them leave, it was an acceptable trade-off. But the Council of Mares, the Queen and their commanders knew better. Once Sombra had Nyx, he would not stop there. The campaign had already cost him too much in stallions and resources...why stop when he could take them all as slaves in compensation for all the trouble they were causing him?

It was hard for Quiet Hoof to think of such a thing. Their nation was strong and had never been conquered - and they had faced a few stubborn, persistent nations of males before. Yet something was different about these crystal stallions - their drive had been that of those who did not dare return to their land without the prize their King sought. They seemed to fear - 

The scout turned almost before the sound behind her was made. It turned out to be the light hoof falls of her sisters, so she stood her ground instead of going into hiding. Soon Xena and Outback emerged from the underbrush to join her for a drink at the water’s edge.

“The traps are set,” the grey-eyed warrior mare told Quiet. “If you need to flee, lead your pursuers to the eastward edges of the groves.” She looked up through the trees at the hot sun overhead. “It is a good time to wash the sweat off and refresh ourselves before returning.”

“Agreed. And, Quiet, the traps will capture but not kill them,” Outback added, nodding. “We did not want to take a chance of ensnaring one of our own if they are too distracted in their efforts to escape.”

“Our sisters know the secret to getting out of the traps and can use them to their advantage if accidentally caught.” Xena set her weapons down and dipped her head into the cooling waters for a moment. When she resurfaced again, she shook her mane out, sending Outback and Quiet Hoof laughing when they were sprayed with water. Outback dipped a toe into the lake and deliberately splashed water in Xena’s face.

Xena gave her a withering look. “You are SO not getting away with that!” she said, her eyes twinkling, splashing back. Her target darted away, giggling as well and the two mares were off.

The scout watched them with pleasure for a moment. She was definitely going to take the advice and clean herself up before they headed back. Stepping carefully into the sloped edge of the lake, she found it dropped off quickly about a foot in, so pushed off and paddled towards the far shore while her sisters laughed and tussled in a rare moment of play nearby.



The crystal army scouting party made up the time lost to Terrain’s inquisition by galloping until they were winded. It helped keep Iron Blade’s mind off the scout’s words for a time, but as soon as they settled back down to a trot when within sight of a large grove at the base of the mountains, his words came back to haunt the red stallion.

Still, it made him snort in disgust. Blade had not had time to be involved in a mare or the affairs of family nearly since Sombra’s rise to power. When not fighting for his majesty, his hooves were kept full with training the troops and keeping his family comfortable materially from his generous salary provided him by the king. His mother, as all mothers, would occasionally ask when she might see grandfoals and was always disappointed with the assurance that once things were secured in the Empire and Sombra’s enemies brought completely to heel, then Blade could worry about continuing their bloodline and providing Sombra with a new generation of fighters. Always at the forefront of every campaign, both he and his mother knew it was all a promise hinged on the precarious chances that he would come back from each campaign alive.

His musings were interrupted by the heavy breathing of the stallions around him, even his hand-picked Lieutenants showed mild fatigue. The sun beating down over their heads had not helped the run, either, and as much as they were pressed to retrieve their failed captain’s headless corpse, it would not due to add to the body count by Iron Blade driving his men too hard. 

Signalling to divert towards the shade of the sycamore groves ahead, he caught sight of something in the skies ahead and frowned. “Fire Bow.”

“Yes Commander?”

“Is that what I believe it to be,” Iron Blade asked him, pointing towards the strange shape flapping erratically above and ahead of them.

“I believe it is, sir,” Fire Bow confirmed. His superior eyesight was often an asset when the better-sighted pegasai in the squadron were away on patrol.

“Go ahead. Make sure Crimson doesn’t rip them apart,” Blade ordered. The unicorn saluted and took off to carry out his orders.



The waters were quite welcome to all three mares once Xena had succeeded in throwing Outback into the lake, at which the commander reached out and dragged the grey-eyed mare in after her. Leaving all their weapons and armor nearby on shore, they reveled in the brief respite and time to relax, at least one mare always keeping a sharp eye on their gear to make sure it stayed where it was.

Finally Outback and Xena abandoned the lake to find a sunny spot to preen each other and dry off. Quiet Hoof opted to stay in a bit longer, lazily paddling towards a waterfall at the far end of the lake. Testing the wet rocks for solid footing, she chose those covered in moss as the safest ones to step upon and let the tumbling waters pound the dirt from her hide, mane and tail. From there she found footing back to dry, solid ground and shook herself off, spraying water in all directions.

Stopping to squeeze the water from her mane, it wasn’t long before the hairs on the back of her neck prickled and she got the feeling she was being watched. Bending down to get her armor, she caught sight of a figure she was certain was not one of her sisters...


The roar of the waterfall in Iron Blade’s ears grew closer he came out of the lake opposite the shore he had entered from. The waters were a quick, welcome blessing from the journey and the burning heat, he and the Lieutenants had felt the temptation to take advantage of it. 

Fire Bow and Smasher went to investigate the adjoining lake while Iron Blade had come to this one. Shedding his armor and sword, he had carried them along the edge of the lake in his magic as he had swum out to its deep end, then, intrigued by the waterfall, had chosen to swim the length to it when he caught sight of her.

A lone mare the color of the local dry grasslands was also taking the waters, letting the pounding waterfall wash the grime from her body. He was close enough he could see her hair was in shades of pale green and slightly darker greens and her body was quite well-toned. She wore no armor, but the nearest civilian settlement was not close, so unless this was a lone traveler, his bits were on the fact she might indeed be a Marazon and she, like Blade, had shed her armor before taking a dip in the lake.

Ducking quickly into the brush once on land again, Blade carefully and gently shook himself dry, slipping his armor back on while keeping his eyes upon the mare. It wasn’t hard. She was lithe and beautiful in a way that even from this distance he found it difficult to be distracted by anything else. Perhaps it was the picture of innocence she portrayed as she went about the simple task of cleaning and cooling off as any carefree civilian would do. To one so used to war and its carnage as Iron Blade, how could be not otherwise be so taken by the sight of her?

And yet, Terrain had warned them they would encounter Marazons before they got to the crystal tomb and their dead soldiers and Blade had learned full well by now that Marazon warrior mares never traveled alone. The stallion stayed perfectly still, even breathing quietly, expanding his hearing to catch the sounds of any others nearby. There was nothing but the sounds of nature - birds above, the waterfall ahead and the soft rustle of an afternoon breeze through the sycamore trees surrounding them.

It took a few moments, but the stallion became aware at some point it had become harder to hear those sounds or focus on his surroundings when the maiden, whoever she was, turned her back to him, unknowingly displaying her lovely plot to the commander, flicking her tail, shaking the rest of the lake water from it. Everything about her was beautiful, every movement delicate, even when she bent back around to nudge the annoying insects off her tanned hide, her full, luscious tail twitching in its eagerness to swat them away. I can see why Dark Horses’s group lost their heads around these beauties, Blade thought absently to himself.

Then he caught the sound of her humming to herself. The voice fit the mare...beautiful, melodic, even bewitching. It reminded him of his own mother back home when she used to sing to her children, teaching his five sisters the art they had obviously inherited so very well from her…

Blade shook his head violently to clear it, chiding himself for losing focus, returning to listening to the sounds of the forest around them, yet he still heard no others...not even the other Lieutenants and the realization he was alone to face this enemy helped him return again to the fact he needed to be certain he did not underestimate her as Dark Horse had done with those of her tribe.

That and the additional fact that the mare before him had now picked up a bow and was inspecting it, testing the tightness of its string, brought him easily back to the business at hand.

There was no doubt now. She was definitely a Marazon, he nodded quietly to himself. In the moment he glanced away to affix his sword to his side in preparation to get the others, he looked back up to see she had disappeared.

Mouthing a silent curse, the commander moved towards where he had last seen her.



The heavy canopy opened up as he moved closer to where he had last seen the elusive mare, shafts of late afternoon light making him squint as Celestia’s sun dipped towards the ocean. How could she have moved that fast, Iron Blade wondered to himself. And then it occurred to him that they, as in the crystal army, must have scouts trained in the art of the bow. It would explain why she didn’t have a - 

“I wouldn’t lift your hoof, if I were you,” came a female voice from the surrounding foliage.

The stallion froze and looked down. There was no visible sign of a trap, but he did feel the leaf-littered ground beneath his right back leg was slightly different from the feel of the rest of the ground. 

Tartarus take him, he had blundered right into a pressure trap! “I thank you for the advice,” he replied wryly. “I am rather fond of that hoof, young maiden.” The stallion looked around, careful to make a minimal amount of movement with his head, using mostly his eyes. 

She snorted in disgust. “Is that what your own traps boast? They would maim, or kill,” the Marazon female accused.

“I prefer the more direct approach,” the commander countered. “Battlefields rarely require such elaborate snares.” He smiled. “But thank you for letting me know an important fact.”

“Yes?” He could sense the hesitation in her voice. Now if he could only pinpoint where she was...

“I would not want to spoil the surprise.” He leapt sideways, slicing through the two net lines he had been able to pick out from the surrounding overgrowth. Reasoning that if he could clear the trap and cut two lines, he would be able to disentangle himself faster and his chances of escape would be better. The idea only partially worked. The concealed net caught two of his legs, and by sheer bad luck it had been both a back leg and a foreleg, thus rendering him less able to use either both back legs or forelegs to free himself. Even worse, his sword had gotten tightly tangled up in the parts of the trap that now restrained him as well, so further use of it to cut the rest of the lines quickly was impossible.

Quiet stepped out of concealment, the overhead trees helping in cutting back the glare so the commander could now get a good look at her at last. She was even more beautiful this close up, clad in blue body armor edged in silver, her feet shod in matching, lightweight armored shoes both beautiful and protective. She was, from all appearances, slightly younger than himself and immaculately groomed, and yet somehow still retaining the feel of a wild creature, the plating of the armor over her plot concealing her cutie mark, if she even had one yet. 

The stray thought crossed his mind he’d like to find out if she did.

She kept a discreet distance, even while she set about checking the tightness of the lines, making certain her prey wouldn’t escape so easily. She was taking no chances, it seemed, in letting him gain the upper hand in the current situation. When she came around to face him, he had been about to say something, but was stunned into silence at the sight of the blue woven necklace around her throat and the delicate, intertwined ribbons in her hair.

“No,” she shook her head, getting a good look at the color of his hide for the first time now that the adrenaline rush of their encounter was settling down and clear thought could reign again in Quiet Hoof’s mind. “Your…” she reached out a hoof, but pulled it back as if afraid of whatever she was seeing would burn her if she touched it. “...a bloody,” she shook her head again in disbelief, heart pounding, cantering back nervously. “I can’t...I won’t take your…” she trailed off, locking almost frightened eyes onto his.

“What?” he asked, keeping her attention on his face while he quietly worked to slide his stuck sword the tiniest bit against the ropes, back and forth, out of her sight behind him. “My life? I thank you for that.”

“I’m a scout,” she replied. “I abhor taking life, but we all must serve." She turned away in disgust for a moment, but then whirled back around to face him. “You invaded us!” Hoof snapped.

“For now I am merely on my way to retrieve the bodies of my soldiers,” Blade said evenly, ignoring the anger in her voice. “And to bring your nation a message. King Sombra bades both sides call a truce for the evening. Time to bury both side’s dead.”

“Why should I believe you, stallion?” she demanded.

“They had no right to assault you,” he continued calmly. “Our orders to them were only to - “

“‘Our orders’?” Quiet Hoof asked. “Your witch king’s and...yours?”

He bit his lip, annoyed at the slip. 

The Marazon dared come closer. “Who are you?” she asked, less in fear now, curiosity gnawing away at her common sense. 

Blade worked to relax his visibly tensed muscles, to distract her while he felt the ropes his sword slid against start to give more and more. “Would you have my name?” he asked the mare. “Is that what you want?”

“Nyx told me,” she reached out, touching his shoulder lightly, hesitantly, though the tightly binding ropes. “She told me you...” her eyes cast down for a moment, then came back up to his. “A red stallion would come.”

“Nyx? The TimeWitch?” So this mare knew of their prey. “When? When did she say this,” his curiosity getting the better of him in turn, Blade could not help but ask.

“So many years ago,” Quiet Hoof told him, her eyes losing focus for an instant. “When we were still fillies coming of age.” She focused on him again, her voice turning warning. “Time means nothing to her. She reads it like the chapters of a book while it burns her soul to ashes in its wake, but it won’t let her die.” Her green eyes seemed to pierce him. “Flesh is not meant to have such power. She is the right hand herald of death, yet even he could not claim her - and he’s tried!” 

There was a fear in the mare’s voice that told him Sombra’s prize seemed more a curse than a treasure. It did not bode well for the campaign ahead for either side, he feared in turn.

“Then perhaps it would be a blessing for your herd if we took her off your hooves, mi’lady,” he replied honestly. Almost through, Blade thought, feeling more and more give to the ropes, hoping this Marazon wouldn’t notice. Just a little more... “What makes you think I am who she predicted?” he asked gently.

“Are you?” she asked. “Is it you?” her voice challenged and pleaded at the same time.

“If I said yes, how would I convince you,” the stallion asked. “What proof could I give - “

“A bloody blade of iron,” the Marazon scout countered. “She told me that is what you - “

“How can you know my -” he asked, but then suddenly remembered Terrain’s pack. Therein lay proof enough for her, but If it were too close to the mare...He looked around, spotting it a safe ways away and sighed with relief. It had been thrown into the bushes when he had jumped and tossed even further by the force of the springing of the trap. Diverting his magic for a moment, he levitated it towards him. Quiet tensed, putting an arrow to her bow and drawing it back, aiming it at his heart.

He froze. “I just want to show you something,” he told her. “I think you will find it interesting, to say the least.”

The mare had a hard look on her face, but her arm holding the arrow taught was shaking ever so slightly. He wasn’t sure why she would be nervous - she did had the upper hand, but he was loathed to discover why by irritating her further when he was so helpless at the moment.

Hard, green eyes searched his for a moment, but finally she lowered the bow, arrow still attached and nodded curtly for him to continue.

Slowly Blade opened the flap of the pack and drew out the hair ribbons, then the necklace. 

As she stared at them, Iron Blade could have sworn her expression was less shock than expectation, but it was enough. She even further surprised him by backing up slightly, as if she knew what danger they represented. 

Cutting through at last, the ropes entangling him snapped free. Throwing the necklace and adornments as far from them as he could, he reached out and grabbed her, clamping his hoof over her mouth to keep her from screaming and using his magic to enforce his strength to hold her when she bucked violently against him. For a scout, she was still an earth pony and a damn strong one at that!

“Listen to me, LISTEN!” he demanded. “Calm down! I am not going to hurt you.” Her heart was racing and she was trembling badly against him, but she could not break his hold. Slowly, she relaxed, but the commander kept a tight grip on her in case she decided to turn on him. “I meant what I said. My king wishes an evening truce for both sides to bury their dead.”

Defiantly, she moved her lips against his hoof and worked it loose enough she bit him. He yelped, adjusting his grip to her jaw, but now her mouth was free.

“Then where are our flyers,” the mare demanded. “They did not warn us of your approach and they have not returned!”

“They’re safe,” he assured her. “They have not been harmed, but I - we, deemed it necessary to detain them until we could tell you of our king’s proposal.”

“I don’t believe you!” Hoof strained against his grip, but it was as Nyx had said, he was like unyielding Iron, even in strength.

“I could have killed you easily by now,” he said, more of an edge in his voice. “If not through strength, just by what I saw those items of yours nearly do to me.” She stopped struggling again, growing winded, the surge of adrenaline beginning to bleed off her strength. “You know what they can do, don’t you,” he asked her. Looking down at a slight sting where she had brushed up against him, he saw her necklace had caught on his hide and pulled out tufts of his hair, snagging it in its fibers. They both glanced over at the levitated items, a whitish-blue glow flaring around the necklace for a moment. As hard as it was to accept, in the wake of Terrain’s gifts to him, this was proof even he would be a fool to deny.

“Of course I know,” she snarled, and twisting with her last bit of strength, she jabbed him HARD in a nerve cluster in one of his forelegs. He yelped. The strength of the hit and the pain, then incapacitating numbness, took Blade by surprise long enough she twisted again, hitting a back leg this time. Another yell told Quiet her well-placed blow was effective and he went down. 

Unfortunately the scout wasn’t quite fast enough to get out from so close to him as to avoid the fall, so when he hit the ground, he partially pinned her with his larger bulk. She squealed, but it was short-lived as the force knocked the wind out of her.

“I - did not see that coming,” Blade gasped. “Well played, Marazon.”

“Quiet.”

“It was a compliment - “ he almost pouted, annoyed at her manners.

“No, Quiet. My name,” she rasped. “It’s Quiet Hoof.”

“Really? That is...quite lovely.” Despite their situation, he smiled and despite her being pinned, the scout found his rakish grin rather charming. He moved her mane out of his face with a gentle nudge of his muzzle. Nostrils flaring he was unable to help but scent along her smooth neck while doing so. She smelled amazing, so soft…

Annoyed, she went to head butt him, but couldn’t help herself either, stopping to take his musky scent in turn. Quiet had never scented a stallion this close before. 

It was utterly intoxicating…

“You are...fortunate I will honor your maidenhood this truce, Quiet - “ Blade began to say when he felt the mare rubbing up against the underside of his chin. “ - Hoof,” he finished uneasily.

“Really?” the Marazon asked in amusement. “You do not look in a state to properly rut any mare at the moment.”

Blade grinned. “Would you wish to me be so?” he asked her.

Angered, she reached out to strike him across the jaw for his arrogance, but forgot he was not completely paralyzed. Her movement freed his working foreleg, which he used to block the blow. “Hey,” he complained. “Do not blame me, mi’lady, if you are in season at the moment!”

“I am NOT!” she protested loudly, but squealed as Blade found the leverage to pin her in such a way that despite the semi-paralysis, he could look her in the eye. 

“I - I can’t be,” she added, finding it impossible to look away from his steel-grey eyes. “Not for another - “ 

He rubbed his muzzle against her soft chest, moving leisurely down her smooth, toned belly. A sudden burning desire the likes of which Quiet Hoof had never felt before in her entire lifetime seized her lower body. “I, no...urgh…!” she moaned as he tortured her with the feel of his mouth as it drifted lower, blowing his cold breath over her teats.

“I am afraid you are,” the commander begged to differ, enjoying the warmth of her body against his mouth. “And I am afraid I may have brought you into season sooner than you had expected to be.”

His lips against her made her squirm and that in turn, made Blade suddenly very interested in continuing lower.

As hard as the mare tried, she could not get her back legs to obey her, fighting with every ounce of her mind to keep them from relaxing under his touch. They opened to him anyway, a part of her mind flooding uncontrollably with hormones.

When she moaned, Iron Blade reluctantly drew back. It would be too easy to continue, to ravish her, break his oath to obey Sombra’s wishes the Marazons not be harmed nor violated, not to mention his own words to his army against giving in to their base desires with these mares. She would never trust his word if he did this - as badly as he suddenly wanted to - and they all would suffer more losses of life for his betrayal than were necessary.

Exerting as much will as he could muster, he dragged his disobedient limbs off the more delicate mare, rolling over onto his back, panting. “As I said, Quiet Hoof, you are fortunate.” Licking his lips, he added, “by the way, I am impressed by this nerve technique of yours. If I had known all scouts of the Marazons were so beautiful and yet so dangerous, I would have exercised more caution.” He tested his affected limbs, annoyed that they were still so unresponsive. “How long does this last?”

“As long as she wants it to, stallion,” came a cold female voice decidedly not Quiet Hoof’s.

Blade struggled around his useless limbs to right himself, seeking out the owner of the new feminine voice. Behind him were two new mares - one in similar battle armor to Quiet Hoof’s, the other in a leather jerkin picked out in copper stud work, but also sporting the triple crescent moon common to all their outfits. Both newcomers carried swords at their sides with the addition of a copper and silver circular weapon attached to a shoulder stud on the new speaker’s armor. Her eyes, almost as grey and cold as Iron Blade’s, told him she had likely taken as many lives as he himself.

There would be no sweet talking this one.

“Look, Smasher,” came a male voice from behind Quiet Hoof. “Trust Commander Iron Blade to take on a beauty without inviting us,” Fire Bow tsked. 

All four turned their attention to the two new stallions who had also arrived - Fire Bow and Smasher. “Does this look like a tryst, Bow?” the red stallion said in annoyance. Quiet Hoof’s light chuckle drew his eye back. She was glancing at his back quarters, blushing. Realizing he had partially unsheathed in response to the tawny scout’s scent and body beneath him, he blushed furiously. “Do not answer that if you value your stallionhood, soldier!” he growled back in his lieutenant’s direction.

“Iron Blade,” Xena spoke up, the name catching her attention. “Did you say, ‘Iron Blade’?”

“My Goddess,” Quiet gasped. “He did!”

“Eh? Does my reputation precede me?” he asked the mares cheekily. 

A gentle hoof on his chest surprised him. Quiet was looking at him with a softer expression now. She was relaxed beneath him, no longer fighting, looking almost submissive. “It did with me,” she reminded him.
> 17. Standoff
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Don’t lose your head, Quiet,” Outback warned. “He is the enemy, remember?”

The scout looked up at her sisters. “At the moment, he brings word of a truce tonight,” she said quickly, hoping no one would draw their swords and kill the others before she could be heard.

“And you believe him?” Outback asked her, surprised. In a blur of motion, the unicorn and her companion had their weapons out before the stallion lieutenants had completed the first and only step they had taken towards them from behind. They turned, their eyes fixed on the males who had accompanied their commander to the lake. “Why would they talk truce for one night after drawing first blood?” Xena asked them.

“We are on our way to retrieve our comrades,” Iron Blade said from where he was still partially pinned to the ground. “King Sombra bades us all take the evening on both sides to properly bury our dead and honor their sacrifice.”

Outback’s eyes burned with hatred, turning back to the red stallion. “Sacrifice? They would have violated us! I was there leading the retrieval party of our dead sisters and witnessed this. Let those pigs feed the carrion birds!” she angrily spat.

“Dark Horse went against the King’s orders,” Blade told them in a firm, patient tone. All thoughts of pleasantries for the lovely mare underneath him vanished in the heat of Outback’s fury, but he refused to be baited into disobeying his king’s orders by getting into a fight now - even if it won him a prize such as Quiet Hoof. He nodded at the tail hair wrapped around the hilt of Outback’s sword. “I would say you taught him a lesson as harsh as his highness would have visited upon him himself.”

“The King did make good use of the head you sent back,” Fire Bow snickered, nudging his bulky companion.

Smasher joined in the jest with a short, deep chuckle. “Yup. Staked ‘im for all to see. No pony’s gonna make that mistake again.”

“That’s barbaric!” Quiet Hoof exclaimed, shocked. Iron Blade wasn’t surprised by her revulsion at the thought, but was surprised at his own reaction of chagrin for her offense at the gruesome description.

“He does not brook disobedience from his own troops,” admitted the Commander. “but he has also sent us to retrieve the remainder of Dark’s body, along with the others, for a proper burial.”

“And why should we believe you?” Xena asked simply, turning, her eyes shifting from the lieutenant to his commander. This one’s tone was calmer than her companions and much more level, leading Blade to reason she would be much more focused and methodical on the battlefield - and much more dangerous a foe.

“I could have killed your scout, but I did not,” the commander said with equal calm and reason. “I could have done to her what Dark Horse’s stallions were intending to do to - “

“Oh? And this was not foreplay we witnessed before your dogs showed up, Commander?” the unicorn mare spat acidly. “Thank Luna Quiet was not yet in estrus - “

Blade held back his reaction while Quiet Hoof spoke up, “But he did hold back, ma’am. He could have, yes, but he did not - “

Outback waved her sword in Blade’s direction, her eyes travelling to their sister. “Why are you defending Sombra’s attack dog? Did the scent of him make you take leave of your senses?”

The scout swallowed uneasily, trying to think of a reply that wouldn’t sound like an excuse when Xena spoke up. “Leave it, Outback. He didn’t take her and his subordinates are on a leash, apparently.” She sheathed her sword. “Burial truces are not unheard of to us.”

The unicorn mare relented, nodding, and reluctantly put away her own weapon. Their sister scout breathed a visible sign of relief. Iron Blade’s relief was less obvious, but he did feel relief that the tense moment had passed.

Xena nodded to the earth mare and Quiet made a quick, sharp motion upon Blade’s flank where she had paralyzed him. Feeling started coming back, accompanied by a dull, throbbing pain, but he could immediately move again and took care to lift his weight off of her without causing any further damage to the Marazon.

Standing again without injury was another matter, however, as the leg still sported a profound and annoying feeling of weakness. He crumpled as he moved to his subordinates, but Smasher caught him before he fell and supported him easily. Blade shot Quiet a look of mock hurt.

Xena caught the glare. “It will pass,” she told him, her tone one of chiding a foal for its drama over a simple cut. “There will be no permanent damage.” Then as an afterthought, turned back to him. “You’re lucky she didn’t cut the flow of blood to your brain.”

The three stallions exchanged looks with each other at the thought their enemies could do such a thing.

In the meantime, the mares went to their sister, Quiet Hoof, who was getting up and brushing herself off. Fire Bow noticed her necklace first. “Commander,” he said quietly. “Did you notice her - “

“I did, lieutenant,” Blade nodded. “And before you ask, that is not the one I was given.”

The stallion nodded, glancing up at Smasher. As was his custom, he kept his remarks to himself and merely grunted.

The conversation reminded Blade of something, though. “‘Bow, find the bag with the necklace and ribbons. It should not be far. Keep it out of sight and do not go near that scout mare as long as you possess it.”

“Yes, Commander,” the unicorn nodded, going in search of the lost items.

As the Lieutenant moved off in search of the mare’s adornments, Xena and Outback addressed Iron Blade. “Commander,” the grey-eyed warrioress began. “Our advance scouts - “

The red stallion nodded. “I will give the order to release them unharmed,” he promised.

“And we should believe this wine-colored satyr why?” Outback whispered under her breath.

“I give my word on my oath to serve my King, wench,” Blade’s eyes flashing with momentary irritation at the strange name the mare had called him. He caught Quiet Hoof’s failed attempt to hide her humor at both his reaction and confusion over the unfamiliar term. One day he would ask Quiet what the term meant, promising himself he would have the opportunity that would come with seeing Hoof and Outback in chains.

Xena, however, he held no illusions over. She would have to be killed. The way her pitiless gaze bore into Blade and his companions, the quiet, deadly way she held herself, the faint, yet visible even coating of washed away blood stains on the skirts of her leather jerkin. No, that one’s spirit could not be broken nor tamed.

There was no doubt she must die if they were to win.

“I believe him - for the moment,” Xena agreed. Her sword slipped from its sheath and slowly leveled in front of her, aimed at his heart. “Because if he doesn’t, he is mine and he will die.”

Blade’s gaze neither flinched nor moved to the weapon. “Even if I keep my word, Commander, the next time we meet in battle, one of us will be sent to Tartarus.”

Xena nodded the smallest nod in agreement, slowly resheathing her sword back at her side. “I will give the order to my mares to let your group pass, Blade.”

“As I will order my stallions, Xena,” he replied, adding a nod. “Until our next encounter.”

With that, the mares followed the trail back the way they came, Quiet Hoof in the rear. She stole several glances back to the stallions - Iron Blade swearing there was longing in those bright green eyes, longing he at once was annoyed and excited he himself shared.


“How is your leg, Commander?”

“Hmmm?” Blade hummed, then snapped back to alertness. “The numbness is nearly gone, ‘Bow.” He tested it with caution, not convinced he could yet run in its present condition, but fairly certain walking was now within reason. Moving away from Smasher, he remembered something. “Did you locate the pouch?”

“Yes, Commander,” Fire Bow levitated Blade’s pack over to him. Blade took only a quick glance to confirm the Lieutenant had placed Quiet Hoof’s jewelry back within in, then closed it and slung it back onto its place on his back. Casting one last glance at the trail the mares had taken to exit the forest, he motioned them to leave the opposite direction, back towards their troops.


On the way out of the small forest, the Commander found it harder and harder to concentrate on where they were going, his thoughts always being drawn back to the beauty of Quiet Hoof.

“She’s going to be trouble, that one,” one of his Lieutenants said, and to Iron Blade’s great annoyance, he was so distracted, he was unsure which one had said it.

“Aye, that she is,” he commented absently, aware of the shifting of the necklace and jewelry on his back. Such a small thing, but so much in his awareness now…

“That ones’ first in my sights,” this from Fire Bow. “better to kill her from a distance, put a few arrows in her and light ‘em up - “

The unicorn was flung against a tree and before he knew it, met with the cold, grey eyes of Blade, his sword drawn and at his throat. Smasher turned at his companion’s yelp of surprise and was stunned to see Iron Blade had slammed Bow up against the tree, murder in his eyes for the pyrotechnic pony. His jaw dropped in shock.

“You will do no such thing,” Blade growled. “She is mine. Got that?”

“Yes - yes sir,” the pinned unicorn nodded, uncharacteristically unnerved by the smouldering rage he saw in his superior’s colorless gaze. “I had no idea you wanted first kill on Xena, sure!”

“Xena?” Blade reared back, snorting at the name. “I thought you meant - ,” he trailed off, immediately easing his telekinetic grip on Fire Bow. “Sorry, ‘Bow,” the red stallion apologized. “Yes, of course. You do your job, but if I can, I think I would like a crack at her m’self,” he said, his voice suddenly distant. What was wrong with him? He backed off, shaking his head.

The trio resumed walking, nearing the edge of the forest. Behind him, Fire Bow and Smasher exchanged worried glances. Then the big earth pony made a face at his companion. “You better wipe that smirk off your face, Smasher,” he complained unhappily.

“Who me?” the usually silent giant asked.

“If you’re gonna say - again - that I talk too much,” ‘Bow warned.

“Didn’t need to. You just did,” the earth pony pointed out.

'Bow shot him a smug look to which Smasher only cracked a half-smile, grunting.