Chapter 1 The Strength of a Legacy

View Online

The sky shone brightly as birds took flight. The trees had a green hue like never before seen. The streams dodged and weaved and flowers bloomed in the breeze. However, one would be mistaken if they were to think that this particular day was good.

Two figures slowly stumbled across the open plains of Noriphmy; one stood tall, donning dark maiden armour. Its plates ripped, its mesh, torn and the fur of her hide looked simmered and charred. Two arrows were skillfully placed by the string of a warrior clung to her, refusing to release their barbed ends.

The other figure, commonly taken as a Celestial, laid weakly atop the dark armored mare. His wing broken, his body pierced by arrows, succeeding the mares count only by one. With a wing folded tightly against his side and the other dragged along the ground with singed feathers and broken bones.

The mare missed a step, inducing a cry from the celestial.

“Please Lindestic,” she pleaded.

She could feel the arrow tear at her muscles lining the rightmost back leg for each step she took. Each one, of agony but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t stop. She had a peer to save from the armies of Istudios as she and he both slowly bled from the inflicted wounds leaving trails of blood in their wake.

“H-hol-hold on.” Her words stuttering, fatigue strengthening and muscles aching. Yet she still carried on taking this injured Pegasus with her as she slowly made her way across the lands of Noriphmy.

One step after the next. One hoof in front of the other. Each, taken with increasing stress, each one worse than the former. She couldn’t give up, she didn’t even know where she was heading. One thing was clear though, that she needed to distance herself from the Armies of Istudious. Their defining war rigs of cataclysm no doubt trailing them ready to unleash volleys, upon volleys of heavy metal jackets once more.

However it wasn’t the fear of obliteration that pushed Adridge on. It wasn’t as if she had never felt the paralysing sense of fear, during all her time she served as a Falconer, no. Of course, she had, at many stages, felt scared. Scared of losing one of her team members. But this time, this time she was terrified. Never before had any pony of hers had been so close to death such as Lindestic. So close and only creeping closer as time passed. She simply had to save him.

Pain shot through her suddenly and her vision blurred. She tried to take another step but her rightmost back leg failed her and together they fell to the grass. Adridge couldn't even offer up a cry as she fell. Lindestic could only hold his breath as he was dumped to the ground.

And there they laid, with Adridge only able to gaze up at the northern mountains, unable to look to Lindestic just behind her. Both ponies riddled with arrows, both slowly bleeding out. Tears filled her eyes at their utterly helpless situation.

“I'm sorry,” she whimpered. “I'm so sorry Lindestic. I tried to run. I t-tried.”

As the sun began to set they laid there. Her strength being far too weak to conjure up any type healing light magic to heal her dying friend. “I’m so sorry,” she came again, tiredness setting as natural as the night. She could still hear his breathing however; faint as it was. As she begun to drift of from weakness, she feared it would be the last time she ever did.

Adridge felt cold. She felt lost. And worst of all, she felt terrified. The winds howled, and the snow came down in what seemed like sheets upon sheets. Adridge, this little filly, was lost. She had taken cover underneath a tree, it too had leaves backed with snow, in a desperate attempt to flee the weather. Still the wind bit at her skin and she continued to slowly freeze.

She had found herself here when she fell off the cart her parents were hauling just before the blizzard hit. They didn’t see her tumble down the snow covered cliff nor did they hear her cry out from below. She was traumatized and in desperate need of help but who would find her all the way out here? She had been like this for nearly a full day, with the snowstorm never letting up as the overwhelming storm raged on.

With each breath she saw the faint puffs of vapor dissipate into the air. She found it continuously harder and harder to move. Her limbs seized and her body refused to move as she slowly began to succumb to the cold. She had hardly realised at the time but she was beginning to freeze to death. Slowly, but surely.

Soon, with the wind howling and the snow continuing to fall she found the coldness strangely comforting as sleep tinged at the back of her mind. Every thing was becoming warm, the snow itself too. Her senses were beginning to fade as on thing prodded at her young little mind. ‘I’m so tired,’ she whispered. It being drowned out by the howling wind.

There was another character on the mountains that night and even as he fought the conditions he stormed through the blizzard looking for this filly. He had been at it for hours even as the others had given up and conceded to the conditions, giving up all hope, condemning this little filly to the monstrosity of a storm all together. Not him; he would never allow it.

There were no tracks, but only the relative location of when they last saw her, and even that was vague. Still, he continued on unbound to any path, flogging through the chest high snow itself. He wore a dark cape that kept him warm even without robes or garments as the cape kept itself warm with heat that resonated from within. He kept it close, wrapping it around his chest and parts of his face while he continued to push forward.

He came around a bush completely buried beneath a mound of snow. It was dark so he kept his catalyst alight with light magic letting the source guide his way and on he went. “Hey!” he called out trying to listen for a reply. His voice was growing horse after having spent many hours doing so. “Where Are You!” He came again. The same two phrases over and over as he traveled further and further.

He focused his energy and fired off his light source in the middle of a patch of darkness, watching as it sailed through the air almost becoming obscured just a short distance from his face. But he caught a glance of something. A silhouette of a tree far off into the distance. ‘How could there be?’ he thought to himself. This was a rocky mountain and if one were to look at it from a distance one wouldn't see even the faintest of greenery.

But there it was, only a hint. She had to have found shelter somewhere and even if it was just a trick of the mind, his determination urged him to never doubt at this time of need. And so he pressed forward through the snow towards this potential haven keeping in heart that she might actually be there.

He set off for it breaking the snow in his wake, making slow progress. Slow but he actually was making great progress despite the conditions, that is, until he took one wrong step, causing a significant portion of snow just in front of him to give away. It fell loose, tumbling down into a previously hidden ravine.

In the whiteout, he couldn’t even see the bottom and in the howling winds he couldn’t even hear the collision of snow on snow. Whatever the case or condition it probably wasn’t a risk he would rather be taking.

He launched another white signal this, time not into the air but straight ahead to gauge how far the jump distance would be In a distance sense it wasn’t very far but in an athletic sense it was very unreachable. Maybe even five times his body length and no runup.

Even so it wasn’t a problem to this experienced unicorn as he was an expert in the light magical arts. Something most ponies find unsavory outside of the health and healing sector of that particular magic.

He began to focus as he took a step back, gathering all his light magic near the tip of his catalyst letting it grow and strengthen. He was in good health and very experienced so in no time at all a white light popped off hovered in his magical grip.

“Right!” he said as he crushed the light beneath his hooves letting it dissipate into little white specs that gathered at his legs. He took one more look, calculated his angles and with one breath lept into the air.

His body sailed easily overtaking the ravine by several yards even coming closer to the tree than the cliff itself. His landing wasn’t very graceful as he dug face first into the snow with his hind legs sticking straight up into the air. Still he quickly corrected himself, pulling himself up and adjusting his cape and proceeded to the tree shelter.

“Hey!” he called again. The tree itself had a very wide base which left a large open space to hide under even though the ground was still snow covered. “Are you there?”

There was no answer. Still he let himself beneath the canopy. Taking care not to ruffle the bottom branches, burying himself beneath the snow that would fall, he lowered his head and carefully let himself in.

Looking around he found nothing, nothing around the trunk of the tree nor beneath the canopy itself. He fell to the floor in defeat as intrusive thoughts flooded his head. All this effort for nothing. The village left her for dead and nopony risked life out in this blizzard. He was always told that with enough determination anything is possible.

Then what was the problem? Was he just not determined or was she really gone. He dug his hoof in the ground just before him out of idleness. This was really poor of him, everything he had ever done was stripped from his mind, from his legacy to his final effort in his expected life. It only came up as fruitless. A cruel world this place is; couldn’t have been even worse if he actively tried.

Just as he was about to completely admit defeat his hoof hit something soft. He petted it again out of curiosity and it was warm.

“What?!”

Quickly he sprung into action, getting up on all fours digging furiously at the snow. When enough of it had been excavated, he plunged a hoof down and took the filly by the body hoisting her up.

“Oh no, oh no, oh no,” He laid her down on his back. He pushed his ear against her chest. There was a beat, however faint it was. “No, no,” he calmly said as he began to focus. “Stay with me little one.” Sparks began to ignite as he focused on his alchemy. “Come on,” he urged in frustration as the cold and lack of fuel ensured the fire didn’t ignite.

Then he remembered his cape that always kept him warm in the harshest of colds. He quickly removed it in his magical grip letting the cold bite at his fur and lick at his skin. He ignored the sensation and quickly began to wrap the darkened cape around the little filly leaving nothing but her snout uncovered.

“It's okay,” he told her as he begun to rub the cape around her with his hooves trying to generate heat. “You’ll be alright, I swear by it.”

The sparks were still continuously lighting in and fading out just beside him as he continued to try to light a naked flame. There was no wood nor dry grass so a naked flame would be rather difficult to start but he tried nonetheless.

A withered, tired breath came from the little filly along with some movement from within the cape and the stallion fell back on his haunches with a sigh of relief. She’s alive, he thought. He’d given up on his alchemy fire. Fine by him; his fur would outlast the blizzard all night if it had too, but as long as this filly was safe and alright he would be fine with himself. Another tired sigh came from the filly and he said, “It's okay, you're safe now. Sleep now, everything will be alright.”

Beneath the darkened, starless night he awaited for the morning to come as the little filly slowly begun to recoverjust next to him. Countless times he would try to light a fire. A few times, he would actually get one going, and equally few times it would be blown out again leaving him exposed once again to the cold. He was sure the cold would kill him at one point, but the storm had to ease off eventually.

Just as he sat idly he heard a soft little voice say, “Are y-you a falconer?”

The words stung him in the heart. He swiveled his head to see the filly poking her head up from the cape he left her with.

“A falconer?” he asked. Her little face gleaming at her rescuer nodded. He cleared his throat, “no little filly. I uh… I was just doing the right thing.”

“You saved me,” she said. “Falconers save lots of ponies.”

He shook his head. “I'm not a falconer,” he said in a low voice. “Not anymore.”

“Then you’re,” she began nervously. “A bandit? Unjustified?” She slowly leaned away in worry.

He couldn’t help but simile. “Neither. I’m just a stallion.”

“But you said you were a falconer,” she said warming back up to the stranger.

“No! Little filly,” he said bluntly. “I said I'm not a falconer. I lost my title.” Her ears flattened at having been spoken to so cruelly and he only sighed. “I'm sorry. Little filly I'm sorry. I’m not a falconer.”

She then asked, “Then what are you?”

His ears perked up and he said, “What is pressing you on so? Should every pony be branded with a title?”

It confused him why she was only thinking of him in one way or the next. He could be a multitude of things if he really wanted to be and same with any other pony too.

“Well,” she began. “Everypony has their thing. Mother is a farmer, Father is a miner and Brother’s a smelter.”

“And what are you little filly?” he asked.

Her ears flattened as she became lost in thought. “Um…”

“Not so easy little filly,” he said as he begun to rest his head in between his hooves. “You talk too much. It’ll be good to get your rest in this cold.”

“I…” she began. “I could be a farmer like Mother. Brother could teach me to become a smelter.”

He sighed,her relentless prodding finally overcoming him. “You really want to know who I am, don't you?”

The filly nodded her head.

“Honestly?”

Again she nodded.

He took a deep breath as he settled himself, and with one breath he let out a single phrase. “A murderer.”

He braced himself for the ensuing shock or panic that would come of the little filly. It never came. He looked over to her to see that she was still comfortably tucked away in the black cape he wrapped her in.

“You can’t be,” she whispered. “Murderers are bad.”

“All of them?”

She nodded her head.

“Despite any reason or circumstance leading one to commit such a grievous crime?”

“But murderers take lives,” she said nervously slouching back into the warm fold of the cape. “You saved mine.”

“I killed others,” he suddenly said, causing a slight, ‘eep’, to come of her. “I killed them all. Bandits, thieves, criminals and smugglers who had the gall to swing a stick they mistook for a sword. I am not a clean soul. My sword can attest to that,” he said as he now held a blade in his magical grip for the filly to see.

He laid it down on the ground just next to her,

“I used to be a hero little filly. Something ponies like you could look up to could rely on. Only now,” he said, picking the sword back up in his magical grip.

He examined the blade, its perfect symmetry, sharpened hycrome tipped edges and luminescent shine. “Only now, I’ve been stripped.” He tossed the sword into the snow outside of their tree shelter letting it get partially buried in the snow fall. “Now I’m marked as a criminal for a crime justly committed.”

She tilted her head. “H-how?”

“Curse the name little filly,” he said with spite lingering in his voice. “Dehlvin Barundack! That dafted Falconer.”

“Who… what happened?”

He glanced at the little filly and said, “Little filly I was forsaken during a collaboration between two teams. The one I led, his team,” he said adding a bit of a hiss. “And the elusive group led by a stallion of many names. He is one only known by his son’s name, Mace Volcod. This was mere weeks ago you see, and we were to combat one of the few remaining major bandit stronghold freeing the north end of Noriphmy of its thieving bandits. Our efforts weren’t without leads, I do say. We were aided by a prisoner named Yunagawl who knew the location and weak points of each stronghold we were to attack. He was very cooperative and deserved his life in the care of the keepers at safeguard.” His voice then took a dark tone, “Barundack, that yewling diggit, suggested otherwise.”

“We were alone with our teams scouting the surrounding mountains and Mace’s father was also scouting unable to oversee the prisoner himself. That left me and Barundack alone with the Yunigawl himself. Barundack who outranking me by seniority commanded me to kill him. This prisoner was very young, and looking to me with fearful eyes as he was bound by restraints. I initially refused but Barundack wouldn’t see him live. He drew his weapon in advancement towards the defenceless prisoner and I drew mine in defence of the him.”

“We had a fierce bout, us throwing magic and weapons left and right. I fought for what I knew was right were as he fought for some petty urge. Eventually I was victorious scoring wounds to the unicorn, none of which were mortal. Then suddenly I was attacked from both sides. One by arrows and the other by clawed gauntlets and bladed feathers. Barundack leapt back into the fray declaring right then and there that I was a traitor and had sided with the bandits.

“It wasn’t entirely true little filly. I fought against the ideology of banditry, I only fought for the life of one stallion who had renounced such beliefs. It didn’t matter because not soon after I had two more corpses in score with Barundack now very well mortally wounded. Just then, Mace’s father and his small army of heavily fortified earth ponies arrived. I looked to Yunagawl only to see that he had fled.

“There was nothing else I could do but follow suit. And so I was declared a criminal on account of two murders with multiple eye witnesses to attest. I ran and ran and yet they still sent two teams after me. I slaughtered the first with my light magic, and the second…” He paused in recollection. “That final kill in self defence. All the pleading couldn’t deter that mare. The look on that colts face as he watched her die. I inflicted a wound that day. A wound that would cut deeper than any blade or spear in that colt's life to come. It wasn’t a physical wound, it was something spiritual… and I saw it written all over his face. That colt… will live in that moment infamy for the rest of his days.” he swallowed and sparing the filly another glance.

“Filly,” he began. “I'm a terrible, terrible pony. The countless lives I’ve taken. This one I forever condemned... It's unforgivable.”

“But it's not true,” she said. “You said so yourself.”

He began to shiver in the cold as the winds continued to blow and the snow relentlessly began to gather on his fur.

“Little filly,” he said in a hushed tone. “The world doesn’t think so.”

“But I know so.”

“Little filly...”

“Adridge,” she said. “My name is Adridge.”

He drew in a deep stiflingly cold breath. “No more,” he said still shivering. “No more words, Adridge. Go to sleep,” he softly bidded.

“Please.” His catalyst briefly glowed then suddenly dissipated to darkness.

The cold then began to bite its way at her and sleep bidded at her now more than ever. She could sense the stranger was distraught even at her young age and so with ever increasingly heavy eyes she snuggled back into the warm cape. She recognised this familiar sensation as light magic. Often times her mother would induce sleep to her on nights she found herself scared, but before she became lost in dreams she had one last question to ask the stranger.

“W-what is your name?”

There was a quiet answer. “Qudake. Qudake Hongarious.”

“The cape is really warm,” she said beginning to drift off.

He shivered again. “Its dragon skin, Adridge.”

She fell asleep a few moments after that. The snow hadn’t ceased to fall and the wind blew, but through it all Adridge slept soundly within the folds of the dragon skin and its radiating heat and as she did hours passed by in her sleep along with a frozen fate solidified and fulfilled.

Suddenly, she was stirred within her slumber and slowly she came too. Slowly her eyes began to open and as they did clear broad sunlight filled her sight illuminating the whitened mountainside nearly blinding her all together. Her cape was covered in snow that nearly buried her again but she was not cold.

She quickly realized what had stirred her from her sleep and in the distance she could hear calls coming her way closer and closer. She looked out from under the branches decked in snow and saw silhouettes from above, again calling for her.

She called back with her little voice saying, “I’m here, I’m down here.”

In the stillness of the day and tranquility in the mountains she was heard and they beckoned her to stay put as one anchored an arrow and began to lower another down the mountain to her. A pegasus took flight and also made its way down albite a lot faster as she glided downward to the little Adridge.

So was so excited to finally be rescued she began to excitedly nudge Qudake just beside her, but when she did look she found he was covered in snow, tail to snout. He didn’t move nor acknowledge her prodding. She worriedly continued, “Qudake? Qudake, wake up. Qudake we’re saved, wake up, please!” She didn’t understand, she was too naive only thinking he was still asleep.

The pegasus landed nearby but Adridge was paying no attention to her as she gently began shoving the stallion with both hooves ceaselessly trying to wake him up. Her breath caught in her throat at the mention of his name. Qudake. Looking up to her peer descending the mountain by string shot she approached Adridge saying, “Little filly.” Adridge still payed no attention to her. “Little filly, please,” she said resting an armored hoof across Adridge’s shoulder.

Only then did she take notice and she looked up to see a face masked by the guard of a helm with her silky yellow mane flowing down her neck in a braid. Her wings glistened as they were reinforced with bladed feathers and her slick gauntlets held slits for three retractable claws to spring into action at the press of a chest button. She had seen this mare before, she’d been to her village twice

Adridge cautiously ventured, “Nimbus?”

Softly and kindly she said, “We're here for you. Come let us go.”

“But… Qudake. He’s still asleep.”

She looked down to the falconer murderer, feelings towards him began to warp her perception. “Did he save you?” she softly asked.

Adridge nodded, “He kept me warm. He gave me this cape. He… saved me...” she motioned, lifting a flap for Nimbus to see.

Nimbus didn’t know what to say but for Adridges soft spirit she had to lie. “That's...very nice of him. He’ll be okay I… I promise. Let's get you home to your Toral; Mother and Father.”

The unicorn landed on the snow surface along with a second that made his own descent with the help of a little light magic. For the little Adridge, she pulled her up onto her back with the cape draped across herself and together, Nimbus took her to the dangling string shot to be hoisted upwards.

The first unicorn walked up to Nimbus.“I see you’ve found the filly.”

She watched as they neared the unicorn .When Nimbus passed by his ear, she whispered something, so quiet even Adridge sitting atop her couldn’t hear. She then left the unicorn who seemed petrified; stopped in his tracks and in thought.

“Kohligan?” came the second unicorn walking past Nimbus and Adridge. “Kohligan what's the matter?”

Adridge could sense something within Kohligan had broken, something inside and deeply personal, She watched as Kohligan advanced for the tree aggressively drawing his sword snarling in anger.

“Kohligan!” shouted the second unicorn rushing up to his friend, preventing him from acting so brash. He wrapped a hoof around his chest yelling, “Stop Kohligan!”

“Let. Me. Go!!” he retorted trying to break free.

“He’s dead, Kohligan!” he said.

“Let. Me. Do this! Let. Me. Go!!” He emphasised each word.

Kohligan, now standing above the dead Qudake laying in the snow and with fury he raised his sword ready to strike him when suddenly the second unicorn threw himself in front of it drawing his longsword blocking the strike against the broadside of the blade. Standing there in the middle of the snow he calmly said, “Kohligan… He’s dead. Please stop.”

Adridge watched as this armored pony began to shudder. His sword fell from his magical grip and he dropped to his haunches. “No. He killed her,” he softly cried.

“I know he did, I know,” he said trying to comfort his friend.

Even though her gaze was averted by Nimbus, Adridge could hear Kohligan begin to bawl, “I wanted to kill him myself, Hilliph. I wanted to kill him myself.”

Hilliph held Kohligans head in his fetlock comforting his friend in his darkest hour as Kohligan himself became lost in emotion.

“I know you did, I know.”

That was the last thing Adritdge saw before she was lifted into the air by wire back up to the path from which she fell. The dragon skin cape was hers now and deep within she found injustice, and with it, a legacy was forged.

Her eyes sprang open jumping to all fours despite the pain. Taking Lindestic by his armor, she hoisted him onto her back once again and now with renewed vigor she charged on taking him across the landscape.

“I will never give in. I will never fall again.”

Chapter 2 Infamous Days

View Online

Nation’s Rampart
Quariomy halted her armies advance as she stared upwards at the wall. The stone wall stood five stories high, stretching all the way to the North and Southern mountains that converged at the peak of Noriphmy itself where the capital’s castle lay. Beyond that, further into the mountains, hid Safeguard.

She beckoned to General Horace, standing just next to her.

“Yes my Princess. What are your orders?” He said, greeting her rightly.

All the while, the Royal Guards stood atop the wall looking down, unsure as what to do. They had never seen the sight of battle and were only trained in crowd control anyways. Facing an army was many league above them as they were ill prepared for a such a happening.

Still looking to the wall, her head cranked upward, she said, “Send an invitation by arrow. I'm sure the citizens of the capital would love a good bout.”

“Yes my Princess.”

“Make sure they send their greatest. We will wait here until they do. With supply lines cut off and no way of remedying their needs of demand they will starve if anything elts.”

Turning her back to the wall, falling back to the ranks of her army that stood in line, ready to fight. During this particular season some warriors wisely stocked up on heavy coats and jackets to wear over or within their armor leaving others to patiently stand out in the cold above the snow-beaten path leading up to the decorated iron and wooden gate.

Coming to attention, she said, “Noriphmy is already ours General Horace. The royal guard will be spared along with the citizens, valuable as they are. Even so I still I won’t let this victory be too underwhelming.”

“I understand my Princess,” he replied nodding his head. “I’ll have this garrison set up camp until further notice.”

He left without another word whistling and signaling for his warriors to break rank and start setting up tents and fortifications just outside the wall. During all this an arrow was fired containing the request to bring out their greatest fighter. All they could do was wait.

As they did Quariomy made her way to the back ranks of her holdout to a group of warriors tightly huddled around looking outwards with their shields on their back and weapons hilted. They seemed rather bored with everything but at the sight of Quariomy, they immediately straightened themselves up.

She still wore her plated armor that protected every major joint and all along her back with golden colored mail that weaved its way around the rest of her body conjoining the plated armor together leaving nothing but her head unprotected. With her longswords hanging at her sides and newly made single peaked latoi shield, she waved herself through.

“Hows my Prince keeping?” she asked.

Igneous looked up from where he sat. His fur covering his body seemed ragged with some splotches of bare skin showing through, giving way to the treatment he had received over the months. His forehooves were chained to his hind legs, slackening only enough to restrict him from running.

With one eye closed from a particular blunt he said, “I still bleed, don't I?” he shivered a bit as the cold wind of winter blew through his roughed fur.

“Well enough,” she nodding. “Well enough...” She motioned for him to follow,the warrior keeping watch did his usual poking just to get Igneous moving. He didn’t say anything as he let his chains click and clang as he dragged them across the ground. Igneous, at first had been resistant and aggressive, but as time passed, the Istudians began to withhold their blades, and as the Noriphmian casualties fell as a result of the overall poor war moral,he became a lot more tamer, docile, even.

That wasn’t to say many ponies decided to fight to begin with as it started very weak and got pitifully worse soon after. It was mostly landowners who tried to fight and poor old sods at that. Most of the time they didn’t even have to kill them and simply beat the around until they conceded which normally didn’t take too long given the Istudians equipment and military power.

“You may speak, my Prince,” she said leading him away and towards the encampment. “You shouldn’t fear to speak rightly.”

While he followed her Igneous ignored the hostile glances an occasional warrior might shoot him as he knew that in Quariomies presents they wouldn’t dare lash out at him. Horace was already a good example of that and no other warrior wanted to follow suit, but Igneous had to give the stallion his compliments, Quariomy gave Horace a pretty good looking scar.

As for what he had to say it was, “I will say I appreciate your armies restraint from village slaughter. You really have held to the code of chivalry.”

“So, I hope you know the first village was justified,” She said. “You're still bitter, no?”

“I’ll never forget what you did Quariomy,” he said calling her by name.

She stopped in her tracks and said, “Careful my Prince. Don’t faulter in your formalities. We wouldn’t want another round would we?”

Igneous winced at the thought of another brutal beating. “My Princess,” he growlingly corrected.

She gave an approving nod along with one of her royal smiles and continued to lead Igneous without another word, and the Istudians waited for a champion.

Favorable Days
Joel took a sip. Only one and thought it tasted like shit and spat it out. Then from the same cup he drank it all in just a few gulps and whipping the cream from his face as he finished nodded in approval. “Not quite bear,” he moaned.

He was sitting on a balcony overlooking Noriphmy, near the Northern mountains. The balcony was part of nothing more than what looked like to be an oversized shed but Joel didn’t mind. Tonight the sun was setting, just like any other night, the sky was beginning to be dotted and alight with stars, unlike every other night of course.

He was planning on just enjoying himself using his dark magic orb to handle his jar as he drank it dry, refiled it by dipping it back into a kege just next to him only to drink again. Just as he was about to go for his second round he heard the unfamiliar sounds of clanking armor approaching from behind. His ears instinctively swiveled to pinpoint the location. A familiar voice said, “Will you be having company or do you intend to brave the night yourself?”

“Wait…” He turned himself around. “Igneous?”

“The one and only,” he said just a drip away from drily. “You invited me over haven’t you?”

“Yeah, I have,” he said. “Ever since you gave me this job I have.”

“You did saved my life, Joel. The least I could do was give you one.”

“Thanks,” he replied. “Anyways, where have you been? Why are you in armor I thought that was like… against the rules here in this place or something.”

He sat down next to Joel taking a cup of mead for himself taking one gulp saying, “I had a run-in with an assassin. I’ve been permitted to be armored at all times now.”

“An assassin tried to snuff you?” he asked, surprised. “You know who sent him right?” He looked over to see Igneous drowning himself in his own cup. It took him a moment to finish but when he did he looked over to Joel, stole his half empty cup and drank it dry too. “One of those days I guess,” he commented.

He nodded as he coughed that last bits of mead away. Apparently Igneous was not so used to drinking as he was. As Joel put his stolen dark magic to use as he scooped himself another jar full of noxious mead Igneous asked, “How’s Frawl treating you? In fact where is that old yewl?”

“Passed out,” he replied nodding his head towards the building as he handed the cup over to Igneous’ magical grip. “If you think I have a drinking problem then I'm a Christian compared to him.”

Igneous allowed himself to smile and said, “I thought as much.”

“How's the new armor anyways? Frawl really enjoyed himself just making it.”

Igneous looked down at himself. It was newly made since his old one had shattered and left in the lands of Carridian. His old one used to be plated all round leaving only mail to the joints of his armor allowing him to move. This one however was far more fancy than a silver looking metal coat. This one was equally plated weighed just a bit less and flowed even better with his movements. It was tinted red but not bright red and bore a flame in the center peace of his chest. He approvingly nodded and said, “Its great. Frawl should be proud, but no doubt he already celebrated.”

“Was there when he did,” Joel said shaking his head in recollection. “That guy makes me look like an introvert you know? If you thought I was a bit annoying, which let's be honest,” He said holding his hooves open with a grin. “Then Frawl put himself in a whole new league.”

“Thought you might take a liking to him,” he said taking another sip. “He’s a bit more charming to say the least.”

“Yeah. High spirits for a drunk old bastard,” he agreed.

For a moment they were silent as they took turns taking sips of their own cups as they watched the streets of Noriphmy and the ponies that walked them this late into the evening. It wasn’t exactly the most entertaining sight but better a window then a wall.

“So,” Joel said breaking the silence. “What's the plan. I heard you were to set off sometime around now.”

He nodded his head, “In a few days.”

Joel noticed there was something off to his tone. He looked over to Igneous idly watching the streets and said, “How many, Igneous?”

“Four.”

There it was again. He recognised that tone of voice, it was almost punishing not to. He leaned over to Igneous getting a better read of his face. Igneous took notice of the invasion of his personal space and slowly leaned away. Joel raised an eyebrow and suddenly came to realization. He shook his head and withdrew himself from Igneous saying, “Wow Igneous. Go you, I thought I would never see the day.”

“What are you talking about?”

He pointed at Igneous face without looking and said, “It right there clear as daylight, you can’t miss it.”

“What?”

“You're really going to make me say it aren't you?”

Igneous just stared at him blankly.

Joel simply sighed, ”You're in love.”

Silence took hold of the moment as Joel let that sink into his mind as they both just sat there staring into the streets of Noriphmy like two old men in retirement with shotguns cradled in their laps.

Eventually, Joel asked,, “So who is it? Who’s the lucky girl.... Or guy. I don't mind.”

“It's a mare, Joel,” Igneous affirmed taking another drink, slightly offended by the mentioned of the alternative.

“Whats her name, Igneous?” he asked. “How’ed you meet her?”

“Her name,” he began. “Is Navinia and… I haven’t a clue really. She just… came out of nowhere seemingly unannounced. She saw me sitting there as I got lost in my mind, frightened and with madness.”

“So you met her,” he said. “What happened?”

He took a moment to think about his next sentence. “You know how you said you would be my wingman, right?” Joel nodded. “So we had dinner…”

“Keep talking.”

“And we started talking.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“And she said I was handsome.”

“Damn, Igneous.” He punched him in his armored shoulder and said, “You dawg. What happened next,” he asked eagerly. “Come on, tell me.”

“Well I,” he rubbed his chin nervously. “I…”

“Got low, lewd-n-sexual right?” he interrupted. “I knew it Igneous. I knew you could do it man.”

“I nervously passed out.”

“You… What?”

“I-” he began. “I don’t know. I panicked when it came time for me to return the compliment-”

“What?”

“I couldn’t compliment her,” he said. “I just… I don't know. My words just caught in my throat, she was just too… pleasant? I don’t even know the words.”

“Wah, what?” he just couldn’t come to terms with Igneous, this fighter and warrior, who currently was dressed in armor and carrying weapons, who also killed monsters and slaughtered bandits, went up against a dragon, and took an arrow to the shoulder… would just pass out at the sight of a girl… or mare to be more terminally correct. “Well what did she do? What happened next?”

“I fought an assassin,” he plainly said. “He came to kill me.”

“In broad daylight? In front of everyone?”

“No at her home.”

“You went to her house after.”

“No, I woke up in her bed.”

“She took you to bed?!” he confusingly asked. “Were’ed the assassin come in?”

“No! We dined at her house, I passed out and she put me in a guest bed. I woke up found an assassin and beat him to submission.”

“An Assassin Igneous, a fucking assassin?” he said with a look of extreme doubt that was contradicted by his better judgment that told him Igneous would never lie. “Why was he even trying to kill you?”

“I'm not allowed to say Joel,” he said throwing his mug out into the streets below. “I’ve already talked to Mace’s father about it.”

Joel had to rub his head. Only Igneous could pull something like this on a leisurely day; it was like he was meant for combat and and lived only to timidly frown at danger. If he ever had a kid then discipline might be three weeks in the woods over spilled milk.

“Igneous, Igneous, Igneous,” he said sitting up as he started leaning on the rail to the balcony. “Bottom line you're in love.” He leaned into his hoof as he got comfortable standing there. “When was the last time you saw her?”

“We haven’t spoken in weeks.”

“How does she feel about you?”

“Scared,” a single word he struggled to say. “Confused, I don't know. She saw the whole attack.” He gently threw his hoof, “And it happened within her own home and it was all because of me. Who am I, Joel?”

“How do you feel about her?” He asked disregarding his question. Another sign: Soap Opera speech.

It wasn’t anything Igneous ever really thought about. How did he feel? “I… don't know.”

“Let me rephrase then,” Joel said. “Have you ever felt the same with her than with any other gir-, mare?”

Easy question. It was a definite, “No.”

Joel took himself away from the railing, looking Igneous straight in the eyes saying, “Then you're in love my friend.” He grinned, “How does it feel?”

“I don’t know how to explain it. Words just simply don't exist and no word that does exist can describe this feeling.”

This was odd hearing Joel take a mentoring attitude towards Igneous, but then again Joel always seemed to know more even though most of the time he just came off as a dimwit.

“Shit,” Joel abruptly said. “You said you only had a few days right?”

“Three whole days then I leave with Oxinum and Floritha to Istudious.” He could have been gone for nearly a year or more from just making that venture Carridian wasn’t exactly known for being the land next door and same for Istudious or that other nation Joel could never get some pony to name for him.

“Is this, Igneous,” he said speaking slowly. “-the first time you thought about coming back... alive?”

Igneous slowly nodded his head. Many times he had said, ‘I don’t care. I’m not scared,’ before running off to battle. Many times he had raised his sword to beast, monsters and bandits. Many times had he been inflicted with battle wounds, bleeding furiously only to just barely pull through from the light magic of another. Only now, even with all his years of battle equipped experience, did he truly throw the well being of his health into serious contemplation at the thought of her. He was in love, he couldn’t deny himself that.

“I am in love,” he whispered to himself.

“Then what the hell are you doing with me then?” he said as he threw his hoof over Igneous’ shoulder. He turned him walking him towards the front and said, “Go find her, tell her how you feel. Speak from the heart and you can’t go wrong.”

“But I'm in my armor Joel,” he said pushing back. “I don’t want to scare her.”

“You said it Igneous,” he said refusing to stop. “If your in your armor than you're no closer to being yourself than without.” he then stopped resisting. “Boy, I know it's scary but you’ve faced much worse though this is a different beast altogether. Even still go and do this. If not for yourself then instead for her if you really do care. She deserves to know if anything else,I’m positive she will show her true feelings for you, good or bad.”

“You really think so?”

“I know so,” he said confidently. “I may not be the brightest asshole in the tanning bed, I may not even be the sharpest bitch in the drawer, but today I can say, with only a drop of doubt, I really do know what I'm talking about. And I don't say that often. Now go.”

Igneous took a deep breath and with a push from Joel he made his way down the streets for Navinia and as Joel watched him disappear around a corner he muttered, “After all. I sure would hate to see the day you be crowned king of the virgins.”

And the Falconer had gone.

Champion of Noriphmy
Igneous didn’t fail to observe in his capture. After all if you're within your enemy then it's best to get to know them. Or so said one of his most favorite epic tales. But true to the word he did. In total Quariomy led only three thousand warriors, a legion so to say. From what he gathered, she divided them into three separate garrisons. The first garrison boasted about what the Istudians called Cannons. Weapons of war and destruction and the things he thunderously heard during the day of reckoning. This group was led by Morallis, a stealthy killer it turned out and the very warrior who crossed blades with Adridge briefly.

The second garrison also numbered in one thousand, but Igneous couldn’t figure out through word of mouth what their speciality was nor who they were led by, but through whispers and slight utterances he was only able to guess they exceeded themselves in alchemy. No doubt tearing up the land quite literally. Unlike the third garrison who transferred their weaponry to Quariomys garrison, as they fanned out across the northern side of Noriphmy, the second seemed to only keep to themselves. Could have been due to the better judgment of their commander or specific orders on Quariomies part, but word had it they were transferring only one over to the first garrison.

The first, as mentioned, was led by the princess herself and was, as stated earlier, fortified by numerous canonnier crews numbering twenty in all, each equipped with four warriors to operate properly: Two Loader, gunner and rangefinder which also doubled as the targeter twisting cogs and setting the sights for the gunner who oftentimes was the crew captain.

The cannons themselves were big. They sat on three wheels with a round free rotating bed planted in the center. The barrel was three and a half meters long and was elevated one and and one tenth meters high above the ground at head height. It could elevate, using gear locking systems, up to sixty five to negative twenty six degrees and could swivel in all directions. Again all this being heard through word of mouth and with drunken jolly spirits.

The projectiles were also big and they came in cartridges of five that they fed into the barrel from the side. They could unload the entirety of its payload in under ten seconds if needed however often times they took eight second intervals to set the sights again between each shot.

They had two ammunition variations that he heard of. Buildings and fortifications were met with a heavy metal fifty five millimeter jacket, while live targets, ground or air, were met with a scatter of two thousand round steel pellets. Though Igneous hasn’t yet heard of them being used much to his relief. One reason presented was because the solid jacket got the job done rightly. So said by the cannon crews themselves.

For now Igneous was held at sword point as Quariomy was being read off papers, documents and reports on the lands she had acquired as she listened to lectures on plans for proper trade and resource optimization. For each village held a detailed report on population, weather it was a place of work, trading village or simply a rural village. She was already putting smelters and mining villages to proper and specific work rather than generalised production. In return they were promised a small portion of the treasury they would acquire after the council of Noriphmy was overthrown.

Word had it the Istudians had a long term plan other than simply acquiring Noriphmy and calling it their own. Igneous may not have known exactly what but he could say that for the mining villages they were being told to create a lot of specialised mine tracks. Though the prints were actually bigger than most mining tracks as they were wider in width and had a secondary smaller rail running along the sides of the primary larger rails. Drawings of maps reinforced this claim as they conjured up the best trading routes to and from villages illustrated in neat delicate lines to and from points of interest.

Tents became erect and cargo shifted and became stored for the long haul in case the capital staked it out as well. However amongst the soft chaos of it all there seemed to be a stir in the front ranks. As Igneous elevated his gaze to see over the line of warriors, one approached Quariomy, but before he could say a word she said, “The champion I suppose?”

“As you asked,” the warrior nodded.

Thoughtfully she dismissed the warrior reading allowed the documents and said to the first, “Fetch me my blades and scabbards.”

“Yes my Princes,” dutifully said and was off.

As she began to make way Igneous stood and said, “M-my Prince's.” The warriors watching him instinctively raised their weapons and Quariomy stopped. “May I see this champion of my Nation? Please.”

She stood for a moment staring off into the distance. Then her head bobbed and she said, “Of course my Prince. It's only right to see the ambassador of your nation, no?” She beckoned with a hoof and said, “Come now. Follow.” He did as told as the warriors backed down as Igneous did his best not to trip with his chains as he carefully strided through the snow with each step strickening the chains. As the lines broke for Quariomy and Igneous he looked over her shoulder just in time to see one warrior get thrown over head knocking a few warriors behind them to the ground.

Breaking through the final line Igneous saw two other laying on the ground grimacing in pain with their swords thrown off to the sides with one broken at the hilt. In between them stood the back of an armored stallion fully equipped head to hoof in plated metal.

“How rude,” he suddenly spoke. “To invite me as a guest and suddenly attack. I expected more from such a well disciplined battalion.”

Igneous recognized this voice but he couldn’t name it. A fact: no pony could.

Standing firm and tall Quariomy fully presented herself in armor and said, “And just who had decided to participate in this duel of two nations today?”

This armored stallion’s back was still turned away. His head slowly nodded and he said, “I see you expect a name. Am I correct?” He refused to turn his head around and instead stared thoughtfully ahead at nothing. “You’ll find I have but one name, but I went by many more. And like a bolt to a crossbow you’ll find that I rely on it only once then I see no further use. I go by no real name, but you, my Princess, may know me as Calcakin. However most go by a more memorable title. I am known most by the name of my son alone. I am known as the father of Mace Volcod.”

“Calcakin,” she said letting the name run loose amongst the ranks of Istudious. Calcakin the one who faced the army of Istudious at the gates of Noriphmy. Calcakin the last champion of Noriphmy. “Calcakin, father of Mace Volcod,” she formally greeted him. “I see you inhabit such a pleasant looking city. Or so said by the Celestials,” she said raising a hoof to the armored Celestials that hovered around.

He nodded, “Mhmm, you don’t know the beauty, Princess of Istudious and…” He trailed off, “...Most of my nation it appears. The capital,” he said reverting back to his previous statement. “Vast it looks from beyond but one can only truly appreciate it from within.”

A warrior broke through the forward ranks of his peers with two scabbards safely nessling the blades of two longswords.

“My intentions precisely,” she said as the previously downed warriors slowly gathered their gear and made way to the edges of the encircling ranks.

Quariomy brandished her weaponry, strapping them to herself, one on each side with tips hanging no lower than the bend in her back knee. She then drew one sword holding it skywards for all to see before elevating it over her head pointed for her opponent who still did not taking any noticeable advances to prepare himself with his back, bravely or foolishly, still turned.

“Face me now Calcakin. It's the honorable thing to do.”

He snickered and chuckled to himself saying, “I’m no warrior dear princes. I hardly believe in true honor. I fight for what's right and what's right today is void and almost meaningless. Still, dear princess, I’ll fight for joy. After all the only thing you can do in the face of assured destruction is laugh.” He then turned to face her and Quariomy finally saw.

This champion bore no catalyst. Cocking her head to the side angling her blade ever so slightly she said, “Are you insulting me? A Dirt Pony?”

“I thought your warriors didn’t take too kindly to me,” his head mockingly swayed from side to side flaunting his bear forehead. “Let me show you true strength of determination you catalyst nyth.”

Slowly his back arched and with a groan of exertion he lifted himself onto his two hind legs with both forelegs outstretched. One hoof off to the side pointed at Quariomy, and the second guarding his face. “I killed manny like you. Ripped those dafted things straight from the living skulls of the criminal. I fear not the magic within. You will be no different.”

“I’ll draw out your covenant you devious yewl.” She whispered beneath her breath, “False names don’t hide true faces.”

Something in his armor clicked and in his right hoof a blade arced upward from his leggings sticking outwards but unlike that of a Pegasus that stay fixed straight, this one swayed freely from side to side. His armor was dense, his armor looked heavy, and no doubt it held a few more secrets within to be drawn out in battle.

“I'm ready for you,” he braced for her advancement.

I Confessions
He took a deep breath. Raised his hoof ready to do it. He was gonna, he told himself over and over. It may not have been hard on paper but in person it was probably the most nerve racking thing he could possibly do. It was dark at this time of night with the sun having long since gone down.

“Just do it, just speak to her,” he thought to himself as he rattled a bit in his armor shaking with nervous adrenaline. “You're going to tell her how you feel and that's it. Just say you're sorry or something.”

With a final breath he raised his hoof and with on single thump bring it down on the bark of the double doorway. He jumped back from his own timidness and waited for what seemed like hours. He listened very carefully but heard nothing coming to the conclusion that she simply didn’t hear. Surely a servant would have answered the door if this were any other living place but she never kept any.

Breathing once more he raised his hoof again this time a bit more doubtfully and with the help of gravity gave a single lowed knock again, metallic leggings on wooden door. Again nothing. He should have expected much coming this late into the night. How stupid he felt for thinking she would even be up. His ears flattened in mild disappointment more directed at himself rather than Navinia herself and slowly turned on his hooves and made his way down the stone worked pathway through her front garden she some how kept in shape despite living by herself.

Just as he was halfway to the gate a light suddenly showed and a voice came saying, “Igneous?”

It must have been his mane because how else would she recognise him from behind?

He turned to look at her and with great relief said, “Navinia.”

She was dressed in a nightgown with a soft looking fur lined robe she wore just over it. No doubt she put it on when she awoke to Igneous’ knocking.

She looked him up and down backing away slightly saying, “Wha-what are you doing in armor?”

He looked down at himself being reminded of the swords he carried and said, “It's nothing sinister I, I swear. I was given permission by the father of Mace Volcod after that… incident with the,” he did finish. He didn’t want to remind her of that terrible attack. How frightening it must have been to have a killer in her house, and even worse was that Igneous plowed straight through two walls just to subdue the convict. “I’m err. Sorry about your room... and bed sheet.”

“No, no, no Igneous,” she said reassuring him that it was alright. “It wasn’t your fault at all.” That kind of was a lie. Looking past him to the night she said, “It's awfully cold please do come inside.”

“I wanted to talk Navinia,” he said politely insisting he kept a little distance fearing that his proximity might somehow hurt her.

“What do you…”

“I need to apologize. I didn’t mean to put you in danger and I never wanted for a killer to be drawn near you. After that day I was scared, not for my life but for yours and what the shadow of mine could do to you.” He thought about his next words carefully, “I didn’t mean to be so rude, leaving without a word, I certainly didn’t know how to handle myself especially with you.

“I am by profession a falconer. I’ve done things Navinia, things you may have never experienced. I’ve seen things, horrible, horrible things. Some things, done by me others, some things done by thieves and murderers. Navinia ever since I was a colt I lived by the that code, one of a falconer. Combat was the only thing I knew, protecting others was second nature to me and death was something that I accepted every day I risked my life and the many times I charged into combat. However amongst the beast I’ve slaying and the bandits I killed purely in the name of Noriphmy; the times I’ve almost died and the days I ran into danger… None of it could ever compare to the fear I felt thinking that I could lose you.”

“Navinia I never felt this way before, I’ve never felt things things. Words… I can’t even. Ever since you found me that day as I sat there lost in the madness of my memories I’ve felt something I’ve never felt before. The kindness you showed, the compassion you gave I-I… I don’t know. I should have said something, I should have kept in touch but during the days I distance myself away I couldn’t help but feel drawn back again. I felt hollow alone, I felt deprived of some moral necessity, something I couldn’t see or name. But the more I thought about it the more I knew. The one thing I needed… was you.”

A silence fell over them in that night as the two of them stood there, Igneous on the walkway and Navinia in the threshold to her household. It lasted so long that Igneous took a nervous step back in his armor as the deafening stillness between them tensed.

“Igneous,” she said not knowing how to respond. It came out of nowhere and it petrified her. If she could describe it then she might have said it felt like getting shot straight through the heart but it wasn’t bad and it didn’t ache. It felt special if anything.

“I-I um…”

“You shouldn’t have to forgive me, I should have said I was a falconer to start,” he said. “It was all my faul…”

“Igneous,” she softly said cutting him off. He swallowed fearful that she was having none of it but when he looked into her eyes he saw something deep and personal. “Did you really mean that?” He timidly nodded his head and as Igneous looked on he saw her smile happily with a tear in her eye and she said, “No pony has ever said that to me.”

“I meant it Navinia,” he warmly said. “Every word.” Igneous then looked down at himself and said, “I'm sorry you have to see me in my armor.”

She only giggled something that really lightened Igneous and his spirit, and she said, “I told you Igneous.” He looked up to her a bit confused and she clarified, “You apologize too much.”

“I'm sor…” he cut himself off just in the nick of time. Dumbly smiled at himself and said, “Thank you Navinia.”

She looked up to the sky and the building tops of the capital and asked, “Igneous do you um… as a falconer, have a place to stay? Here in the capital that is?” Falconers didn’t usually have a static home; Igneous shook his head in answer. She pushed the door open wider gesturing with her wing.“Please Igneous. Be my guest for another night and come in then.”

“Navinia,” he said unsure whether or not to let himself in or not.

Like he had said to Joel she was just too kind, plain and simple. She would have said something but her eyes said it all. She insisted so what kind of stallion would Igneous be to refuse. With her welcoming gaze Igneous took a few meager steps forward before confidently letting himself in in the presence of Navinia.

If he only had three days left he would spend every waking minute with her so long as she allowed it. That was for sure and what he clinged to from within.

Chapter 3 Champion of Blood and the Champion of Embers

View Online

The Hours That Have Passed
The sun was setting as night fell in its place. A pony sat on atop a boulder working her armor while the other one, resting in the grass, began to come to. He groaned as he slowly, and a bit painfully, rolled himself over, eyes opening falling on Adridge. She was staring off into the distance They were hidden at the base of a mountain beneath a foliage of tree and bushes with a clearing just for them. He looked in the distance and saw dotted figures lining the horizon marching across slowly making their way past them, and as Adridge looked on, black tinted tools, a pry and a cutter worked on her armor. Broken arrows littered the ground, all coated in blood.

“I see the day is lost,” he said. “Thank you Adrdige, for saving my life.” His back ached from the numerous arrows but he no longer bled. Beneath the scorched, dying feathers of his left wing, a bird shifted and made its way out. Lindestic breathed a sigh of relief; he hadn’t expected the cardinal to live through the blast but seeing as it did brought just that much more light to his predicament.

It hopped to his chest, eyes still closed, feathers fully grown, and in the softest parts of his fur it nestled down and began to rest as he cradled it in his hoof. With the army advancing past them and the sun still setting Adridge spoke up, “Why?” A piece of her armor snapped and fell to the ground as shrapnel. Her armor had been warped and stuck fast to her body with a sizable blast mark in its side leaving her extremely vulnerable to her already burnt skin.

Confused, he asked, “What do you mean?”

She pointed a hoof and clarified, “The bird, Lindestic. Why do you care so much? So easily forgettable yet you keep to it as your own.” Another piece of metal snapped and her armor slackened from her body slightly. “It should have died that night, in the rage of the storm. Yet, you intervened with nature and now it wont go. Its weak Lindestic, you hear? Can’t even open its eyes and won't take flight. What good are you doing keeping to it like you are. How could you be so naive? What did you see in it?”

“What did you see in me?”

Her focus from the horizon tore away and for once since he woke she looked him in the eye.

“What?”

He could hear the weakness in her voice.

“You saw what I did, Adridge,” he solemnly uttered. “You know who I was. I thought of myself as unredeemable and most would have agreed with me. I felt my place was at safeguard. The place where they tear mountains to the ground and rip granet from earth. The place I should have spent the rest of my days”

“No,” she said shaking her head, her tools going on intermission with her concentration being torn away,given to Lindestic. “I know what I saw in you. You were lost scared and misguided. Thoseshackles you would have worn were the ones rightfully earned by your father who left you long ago” she said causing him look upward at her. “You a good, very good stallion. You’ve saved many lives and you’ve stood by my side. You’ve braved carridian and vanquished bandits alike. You're nothing like you were, you’re a changed soul. Don’t ever call into question your morality because in my eyes it is the purest of flame.”

“I won’t but I often have,” he said holding back tears. “Never again, this day I swear.”

He was taken by surprise by a rough, sudden embrace with jagged metal but the familiarity of friendship.

“Thank you Lindestic,” she whispered fighting an emotional war herself. “Thank you for forgiving yourself.”

She pulled away letting her recover from his renewed back pain, but in his mind it was well worth its venom. Adridge got back to work on her armor and with a few more cuts and some slight mending it fell away completley leaving her burt right side to itself.

Lindestic tucked the bird back under his burnt feathers, no doubt they lost their use for flight. It would take weeks for it them to grow back, if not months. He raised a hoof for assistance and Adridge took it in hers lifting him to all fours. “Where now, Adridge?”

Standing to the horizon she let out a withered breath. “We go back Lindestic. I know it's hard, but I lost something. My cape,” she said. Lindestic new that that peace of dragon skin was very dear to her. She told him the story and he knew just how much it meant to her very being. “I can forget the blade in place of my cape.”

“I know you will,” he said standing at her side “But I saw the sight as we ran from that village. Adridge,” he said slowly and carefully. “Promise me you won’t look down.”

Embers of the Just Brutalizer
“General Horace!” Quariomy called out.

From the forward ranks of the surrounding ranks of Istudian warriors general Horace in the flesh marched onto the skirmish field.

With a mighty voice he shouted, “This Duel Today Will Begin On My Mark!” he drew his sword pointing to his princes, “Champion Quariomy?”

“Prepped and ready,” she answered.

And with spite he asked, “Calcakin?”

He snickered. ‘Won't even refer to me as champion will you?’ he thought. Then, still standing on two legs, he said, “My embers still burn. Torrents of rain couldn’t even stifle its flame.”

Looking up to the wall Igneous saw as far as the curve of the structure could allow could the lines and lines of guardsmen, and in more numerous numbers civilians. They threw their hooves over the edge in effort to get a better view with each on leaning over the other. Each one awaiting the outcome.

“Warriors!” he shouted. “Skirmish Formation!”

Instinctively they raised their shields side by side creating a wall that surrounded the two champions. His catalyst glowed a condescend white and from it shot out a single white signal. He retreated to join his warriors at the side and as he fell into the ranks he rose his shield and shot of the second signal.

Calcakin ducked at the flash of white just in time to dodge a mid body swipe from Quariomy as she came to a sliding halt behind him. “Fast. Ha, very fast my Princess,” he said becoming exhilarated at the performance of her speed alone.

Coming out from her last attack, she levered the blade against her shoulder, spun around and whipped it again. Calcakin’s blade flicked up with the slightest gesture of his hoof as he used it to yield Quariomy’s sword skyward. He lashed out with his off handed gauntlet only to meet the broadside of her second long sword.

With his drawn blade keeping her skyward sword locked in place he said, “You're a talented pretty-princess, no?”

He leapt back, landed then immediately lunged forward.

Quariomy set her blades but Calcakin swept them aside, striking her with his left hind hoof. She reeled back from the blow as he twisted his body landing on the same hoof only to rotate once again kicking her off for good with a back, right hind kick.

The walls roared at this monstrous fighting style and Calcakin basked in the sudden glory. His left foreleg blade came unhooked and with it he put on a display of spinning death with both blades flicking around his hoves, spinning on their axles to his will. Looking back at Quariomy, she began to pick herself up holding her jaw with her hoof as she took her blades in her magical grip raising them once again to defence.

“You like that, no?” he was still standing on two taking slow strides towards her. “A fighting style modeled after the aggressive nature of greater beast who stood on two just like I do now. To you this is impossible as I have strained day and night just to achieve such an ability. Were you unicorns wield magic to seemingly no end I feed on strength and the will of myself. This Is The Will Of Determination! This Is The True Strength Of Earth Ponies!”

Having fully recovered during his short monologue, and seeing as he was indeed formidable fighter, she said, “Then vouch for your kind. Show me true strength!”

He grinned as he hunched over going to all fours as he charged Quariomy. His armor shimmered in the sunlight and the snow melted away at its touch and in one bound he closed the rest of the distance. His blades flicked outwards as he spun with his fore hooves outstretched.

She waved her head as she intercepted each strike with fast precise movements of her swords. They fought fiercely through the stalemate with their blades flying, bodies dancing through the snow. It felt like thunder with every blow.

Calcakin lash out with his blade locked forward and Quariomy angled her sword down intercepting and throwing it up performing a successful parry. She let out a war cry as she reeled back her sword that blew up in flames and with all her might thrusted forward, the sharpened edge aimed for armor.

It rattled and clanked as Calcakin was blown back a few steps with the armor, refusing to be pierced. Quariomy withdrew the blade and struck again and again, landing blow after fiery blow to his armor. Each attack sending him back a few steps. None of which yielding a mortal blow.

With her sixth strike Calcakin recovered and coped with the rhythm. Catching the next strike with both blades crossed he send the tip of her longsword to the dirt, delivering a fetlock hoof to her face.

She reeled back from the powerful sensation falling to her back a considerable distance away. Calcakin roared as he battered his armor with both hooves, hitting it thrice before charging her again. He galloped towards Quariomy, and as she desperately tried to pick herself up he swiftly dashed behind her with hooves gliding above the snow. Hooking both his four legs around her abdomen and with one great exertion, he hoisted her up into the air, causing her magical grip to fail, consequently dropping her blades as a result.

With the walls roaring with cheering and the princes struggling to break free from his hugging grip he arched himself backward, and with a thunderous collision, slammed her head into the snow with a powerful suplex. The valley fell silent. This was nothing they ever seen before and that brutal act of offence was unlike any other. Calcakin got back on all fours Quariomy only barely squirming.

“Where Is It?” He shouted running up and kicking her in the face with his armored gauntlets as she tried to recover, sending her back to the floor. “Show Me Your Magic!” Another running kick.

He came to a halt, leaned down to her and said, “you dafted unicorns. Your abstruse and weak without magic. You speak so mightily, you walk so proudly flaunting light, dark and alchemy everywhere you strut.”

He lowered his hoof taking her by the armor and said “Is this the power of Istudious?” With one swift exertion he lifted her body into the air. “Show me more!” He shouted holding her high above him for warriors, guards and civilians alike to see.

“Don’t hold back, I want to know my Princess. You’re not dead just yet!” Taking her with one hoof he sent her back to the floor with a heavy earthly collision. Quariomy not even whimpering with impact.

“Pathetic,” he grumbled as he shook his head.

He began to trot away to await the moment they officially declare him the winning champion and saunter off out of his nation for good. Suddenly the warriors collectively let out a gasp. Her catalyst begun to glow white and as Calcakin turned around he chuckled and said, “Yes, yes. You don’t fool me for a second.”

He backed up as Quariomy slowly raised herself to her hooves. Her face was bleeding from the multiple gashes from the few times he kicked her and the one time he threw her to the ground. Her mane became stained with the substance and her fur, whiter than the snow they fought on, also became stained.

A white sprite popped from her catalyst manifesting itself just in front of her. She looked to it then to Calcakin, and with a look of grim, bloody determination; she crushed it in her magical grip.

A dark haze formed on her back. “I’ve come too far, suffered too long, ate too little. I ached many days, cried fewer nights.”

The mist began to solidify, and in its trace it took the shape of a curved sword. “I’ve led this army with the best of determination, but on the faintest of hopes. Were the best of the blood and the strongest of bone.” She gathered only one long sword that laid on the ground and holding it forward she said, “I will not fail today.”

“Your salvation is beyond that wall. A fortitude defended by no other but me. A legion to one.” He stanced back up ready to fight, poised for battle. “As you said I am merely a dirt pony. If that so then what do you consider yourself.”

She lowered her head, the darkened curved sword resting across her back sustained by dark magic, and the long sword held at her side in her magical grip. What did she consider herself? “Anxious. Strong in heart. The Blood of Istudious. The banner they wave, the armor they bear, the blades they wield and the shields they raise.”

She dug her hooves into the snow poising herself for combat. Curved sword ready to vault and longsword ready to lunge. Her eyes seemed to warp and glow...“I am the Heart of Istudious and our salvation is today!”

Village of Stones
“Don’t look down,” he pleaded. A hard thing to do as they carefully made their way down a cracked desolate street. Households and buildings on all sides lay in ruins, spilling their woodwork and stonework within themselves and over the streets too. Adridge stared looking only forward.

Oh how the sights beckoned from just aside their tunnel vision, right, left and below in its crimson red display. The constant, active discipline they shuttled themselves with whenever there gaze even so much as flicked in any given direction. The bird of carnivory circled about constantly landing and tossing gazes to them as they the two wandered closely by. There wasn’t a sound but the occasional crow and flurry of wingbeats. A stray gone passed keeping only to itself, and a cat darting into the darkness.

Where had she branded her attire last before the war rigs let loose? The plaza along with the majority of the fighters caught in that split moment of spitfire from iron muzzles. Minutes passed, both silently walking, slowly making their way around. She turned the corner and froze in her step.

“Lindestic,” she gasped.

“I see it too,” he whispered putting himself in between her and the gruesome sight of the plaza.

Looking her in the eyes he whispered again, “Keep moving. You know where the cape is?”

“It should be…” she trailed of making sure to keep her gaze leftwards towards the rubble.

Through faint familiarity she found the square area of a rubbled building that she was tossed through. It wasn’t near the entrance of the area so it must have been buried beneath the rubble.

Lindestic heard the sounds of scurrying and looked to see wolves making their way in. There were ten in total each on happily strutting about the carnage. One laid his eyes on him giving a slight ‘woof’ to his presents. No doubt they would be keeping an eye on the two falconers but for the time there was no need for game. The feast was already here.

He sickly swallowed as the many of them lowered their heads and began to tear and desecrate.

Adridge drowned out the sound focusing only on her alchemy. Sure, earth was second to her water talents but it should have been enough to move the rubble as it was, and it was. Slowly through strenuous concentration the rocks and debris began to shift and skitter across the roadway out of her dig site.

A minute more and she gasped with tiredness and when she looked down at her work she found the hilt of her curved sword sticking out through the rubble still in its scabbard. Taking it in her magical grip she lifted and it came free and she turned her sights on the wolves.

“Don’t, Adridge.”

“Lindestic?”

“They’ll only return,” he said looking away and to the ground. “Think for a moment will you,” he asked in the kindest way possible.

And she did. If she fought the wolves then the crows would make the claim instead. If she banished them too then the flies would arrive. They couldn’t bury them all, not the hundred and seventy two of the brave stallions and mares. As a result, the thieves would be left to take the armor, weapons and trinkets left behind.

With a heavy heart she took a step back. She turned and with Lindestic following closely behind, they silently left the village, a village turned to stone. Adridge laid the scabbard across her back, strapped the buckles around her chest and waist, and held one image in her mind. The image of the cowled commander who shouted only one word before the war rigs let loose.

“Fire.”

Blood of the Somber Ailer
A curved sword. A tool used to slay both beast and pony alike. To parry one is a challenge as often times the blade slides through, glancing harmlessly off. No doubt she would reinforce each attack of her longsword with the curved sword soon after. But was she holding back? It had been long but if Calcakin recalled the aer to Istudious should have been gifted in alchemy invested in earth. Perhaps she was just holding back.

‘No matter,’ he told himself. No doubt she would flaunt her true colors but her shimmering eyes signaled for caution. A feature he noticed only after she picked herself up.

He took two paces to the left. He looked her up and down, that unmoving armored Princess. Took eight paces to the right. She remained as motionless as a fully grown tree. Stubborn was the word that came to mind, at least battle-stubborn.

“Fine then,” he said as he aimed his foremost right hoof straight for Quariomy.

He punched the side of it with his left hoof, and from the uppermost slot of his gauntlet shot out a small sharpened disk.

Only then did she move, intercepting it with her blade, arcing around Calcakin, blades at ready. He giggled in his bulky armor and at the last moment spun on his hooves intercepting and bringing her longsword to a stop with his right hind hoof. He kicked it away and she swung her curved sword.

Raising his forehoof he caught the broadside of it yielding it upwards over his head as Quariomy leapt back. Following through with her attack she came again for a second streamlined engagement. He rolled to the floor as she whipped her blades and kicked her front legs out from under her. Jumping back up to his hooves he looked to her only she was no longer there.

He found himself flying to the other side of the shielded arena, crashing against the hard side of a warrior's upheld shield. His head throbbed and looking up he quickly rolled out of the way of an incoming spear shaft.

The warriors cheered as Quariomy summon another shaft just above her head throwing one after the other keeping Calcakin darting from the left and to the right.

With a flick of her eye and a drop of instinct she let loose once more. This time hitting Calcakin in the chest just as he rose both hooves and shuttered. The familiar sound of the bladed disc rung in her ears and she pulled her longsword out swiping it away only to be struck in the neck regardless.

Both of them stood their ground. Each impaled with the tool of another.

What had happened? For one Calcakin had shot one disk from both hooves. That bulky piece of armor turned out to conceal some tricks, but to say it was bulky was a lie. Most of it was only held within the gauntlets and shoulder platings, but the metal itself was so strong. It must have been lined with Hycrome mesh, a precious rare feature in armor. Rare too as blades couldn’t cut through. This Quariomy knew.

She carefully looked down to her shoulder. Just as her senses have been screaming she was indeed wounded more so than from a brutal beating. A rounded disk with serrated edges stuck from her shoulder about a quarter of the way deep. It was a precise shot and one she hadn’t expected. Taking the edge of the blade in her magical grip she carefully pulled it out ceasing to whimper nor wallowin its pain.

Sure she was bleeding but it was nothing compared to the pain she felt already. Throwing the metallic object into the ground she poised herself once again. This time laying the war hammer over her back while keeping the curved sword held out crossway in front of her bodie.

Steadily breathing Calcakin raised a hoof to the fading spear shaft still sticking in his body. Cupping his hoof he pulled it out of his armor. The head was lightly coated in blood but it wasn’t his injury that concerned him it was that his armor now bore a strikingly obvious weak spot. He threw the spear to the ground ignoring the pain and stared Quariomy down, but one question still prodded at the back of his mind.

What had happened? As the spear faded beside him he recounted the last few moments of the second engagement. Quariomy should have been down when he kicked her legs yet she appeared just behind him with a summoned hammer raised. One that he hadn’t seen her summon before prior. How had she done it?

Well Igneous had seen it all. He watched as Quariomy made her first advancement signaling to Calcakin that she was going to be aggressive. She then leapt back with intent to counter attack, or so Calcakin thought. This however was merely a ruse as when she did, a false persona shot out just as Calcakin thought she would but the real Quariomy darted around sheathing her sword and summoning a war hammer since it was proven that Calcakin’s armor was tougher and lined with hycrome mesh.

And so when Calcakin took the forward advancement and counter attacked, he was unaware of Quariomy, who had positioned herself just where she knew he would be. Ready, with her hammer already raised ready to be swung around unleashing its power on his armor.

To many this was an impressive display of light magic. She indeed was an impressive illusionist, but that brought up a few questions from Igneous. During his fight with her did she ever play these tricks? Attacking with fake swords only to set up the next strike for the real one? It couldn’t have been. He was only taken down once she hit him with the same attack done to Calcakin. But maybe some of the slayer arrows were fake used only to bait him out. However he felt the collisions and the woodwork gave way to its blow so this couldn’t be true.

“It seems your a bit smarter than most,” he said from behind the visor of his helm. Raising his left hoof he hammered his next disk shot into his right and vise versa.

“It's just an illusion,” she toyed, refusing to move.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

After all an illusion shouldn’t have to hurt, but then again… he felt the collision of the illusion’s hoof after he kicked it. If it truly was an illusion his hoof should have passed straight through. No unicorn he knew could summon a full intractable personas.

“Right then,” he said regaining his composure, his armor leaking with blood. “Round three?”

She gave a polite battlefield nod.

He raised a hoof and said, “Just, one moment please. I need to summon a weapon.”

“What?” she said tilting her head to the side. “How could you summon a weapon?” she asked doubtfully. “Your earthbound.”

“Well...” he began, no doubt smiling beneath that visor of his. “Allow me to show you.” Tilting his head upward he let lose a whistled that was amplified by the confines of his helmet. He then shouted a single command.“Whip!” Not long after was that very thing present just before the princess herself.

She couldn’t help but smile as Calcakin clipped the hold of his whip to the blade of his left hoof. ‘A magical earth pony,’ she thought. It indeed was summoned albeit by more conventional means as it was thrown from above by the royal guards on duty atop the wall itself.

With one hoof held away from himself, he let the coils of the whip drag along as he slowly stood back up on two. This time fully ready for combat. “This time,” he spoke up as Quariomy mentally prepared herself. He waved his left hoof that was accompanied with a quick lethal crack of his whip. “...It's my turn to engage.”

He charged just as Quariomy made her advancement just as he knew she would. He lashed out cracking the whip just over the forehead of the persona making it vanish. Quickly, he spun on his hooves digging them into the ground just as the true Quariomy attacked from his right.

Flicking his right hoof, the blade swiftly deflected the curved sword just over head. He leapt to his right, swinging his left hoof wrapping the coils around her neck. She pulled back against its grasp but Calcakin’s whip held fast.

Her hammer smashed down just as he avoided it. She tried lashing out at the whip with her curved sword in an effort to split the fine leather, yet Calcakin pulled himself in deflecting the blade with his right hoof. He was now startlingly close and with no other alternative she lowered her head letting her curved sword vanish as charged him head on.

She slammed into his armor. She felt the density, hardness and how heavy it truly was yet, she didn’t stop. She wrapped a hoof around one of his planted hindlegs, picking him up into the air and dropping him to the snow. She then drew a long sword striking out at Calcakin just beneath her.

He blocked the first attack bringing it to a hard stop against his blade. He jolted his body to the side just as the head of her hammer crashed into the snow. With one weapon locked and the hammer reeling back he let his right hoof slip knocking Quariomy across the chin with his elbow, while afterwards he extended his left hoof pulling Quariomy off to the side by the neck with his whip.

He rolled to his right quickly picking himself up, and when he set his eyes on her she had already gotten to her hooves as well. She started darting to the left and right seemingly in place. Calcakin watched as the shimmer in her eyes brightened as she split into three all at once standing in line facing him, each equipped identically in armor each with a dark summoned hammer on their backs.

They all lunged at him with hammers reeling back for a major crushing blow. Quickly deducing which ones had to be personas and which one had to be the real one, his left hoof and his whip phased right through the first two which swiftly faded to nothing. That left only the leftmost Quariomy. He raised his left hoof intent to fire the last of his disks at the true Quariomy and when he looked he saw the sudden surprise in her face as she sailed across the ground airborne in an attack she couldn’t fade out from.

It was the look and realization of defeat knowing that no matter what she did that she would lose. He grinned. It was the look they all wore the moment they released an earth pony brought them to into submission.

“Like I said.” His gauntlet let loose sending the sharpened disk straight for the Princes as he muttered, “You're all the same.”

“Am I?”

He froze. The voice came from behind. He looked to see the disk fade through and the third persona that vanished. He was defeated. He knew that much as he didn’t even bother to move, evade or act in anyway. Instead he lowered his head in brief anticipation. “My, how you’ve grown Quariomy.”

A deafening metal on metal explosion rang throughout the entire valley. So much so that village miles away heard the echo of defeat. Igneous anxiously looked up peering over the shields of Warriors just too see. As the snow settled he recalled what had happened.

Quariomy had darted around as Calcakin picked himself up leaving behind a persona which divided into two more personas tricking him into believing that one of them was her. She then had them all perform a simultaneous, easily predictable, telegraphed attack as he took the bait swiping out at them just as the true Quariomy herself was reeling back her hammer in a heavy downward crushing attack.

Outplayed by magic. The thing he loathed above all else.

The snow settled and Igneous saw Calcakin lying chest down on the ground with Quariomy standing over him with the head of her hammer bored down into the plating of his armor. She was breathing heavily, a result of the fight, and waving her bloodied mane out of her eyes with a flick of her head the hammer vanished.

No warrior cheered. No citizen up on the wall called out.

Quariomy stepped over Calcakin half buried in the snow and rolled him over with her hoof. His armor was cracked all around, it being significantly shattered on his back side. Wrapping a hoof around his helm she slowly began to pull and it fell away, heavy as it was. Calcakin weakly tried swiping her away with his hoof but she intercepted it and pinned his leg beneath hers.

“Let me see your face,” she panted.

Calcakin groaned as his helmet came loose. Now taking it in her magical grip she held it to her face looking into the empty visor then back down at Calcakin. His eyes were bloodshot. His mane seemed mangled. His snout was dripping with blood and some even sickled from his lips as he dry heaved on the ground in pain. His back was broken as well as other bones and no doubt he a part of his stomach was ruptured from the impact.

“Are you going to kill me?,” he sputtered in anguish.

With one final glance she threw the helmet to the ground withdrawing her longsword simply saying, “Seems its what you want.”

Calcakin watched as she slowly raised her sword pinning him to the ground with a hoof.

“Look me in the Eyes,” she commanded.

As he did her eyes shimmered once again and he could feel something deep and personal become drawn out. He couldn’t explain it but if felt as if she now knew him to the very center of his being. The warriors began to inch forward in anticipation and the citizens watched from above. Withdrawing her intense gaze. “A word to be remembered by?”

“Yes.” He coughed nodding his head coming back down from the trance. With a smile slowly cracking across his lips he faintly said, “Never, by... a u-unicorn.”

Suddenly Quariomy flicked her blade upwards splitting a wooden bolt along the blade itself. Quariomy smiled and shook her head. Looking down at Calcakin.

“You Noriphmians. So eager to die.”

It was aimed for Calcakin himself and not the Princess of Istudious. She lowered her weapon with relief as she look upwards to the wall only to see the retreating glimpse of a pegasus in earthenearing equipment.

“Tell me,” she began looking back down to the bleeding Calcakin. “Is it an honor you hold dear? Is it the fear of the alternative, or do you just prefer to end it sooner rather than the latter?”

He didn’t answer, only leaning his head back resting against the snow in defeat.

She swiftly sheathed the blade with a loud clack and dismounted the corps of Calcakin. Looking to warriors with shields raised she stood tall, face bruised and bloodied and announced, “Warriors of Istudious. Noriphmy is Ours!”

They cheered raising their shields and weapons pointing them skyward. She allowed this to continue for a few moments more before signaling them to silence themselves. She said again, “Warriors! Fall into rank!”

Instinctively the circle of shields broke as they retreated back, each warrior taking his or her place in the lineup that faced the wall. Shields were held outwards and weapons were readily drawn.

Quariomy left the injured Calcakin letting the warriors gather him up and move him away. She started her way towards the back lines just as Horace came to her side ready for orders. She gave him a nod and asked, “General is the transfer here?”

“He is, and is ready to be deployed.”

“Good,” she replied as warriors stood aside making way for her. “Position him before the wall and oversee the capital siege. Also insure that Calcakin doesn’t die.”

“Yes, my Princess,” he said. “And as said we are to spare the citizens and royal guard?”

She led him to the back of the lines were cannon and their crews were spaced thirty six meters apart. Each one with a few crates sitting aside with a healthy amount of shells to fire.

She nodded. “The citizens yes but the royal guard will be a sensitive matter.”

Coming up to the cannon crew the crew commander gave her a nod and the rest stood straight at their post. Standing just aside the barrel she laid a hoof on it and said, “Take as many prisoners as you can. Once the council is overthrown I will deal with them personally, but for now do hold restraint. After all it's not a sin to fight for what you believe in.” She patted the war rig proud of its build and engineering. “Especially when so forcefully ignorant.”

“I understand my Princess,” he said. “I’ll be off now.”

But just before he could get too far Quariomy called out saying, “And do give Ferathal mentorship.” Turning her attention to the cannon crew she said, “Captain. Ready the weapon. Single fire, scatter shot, one burst. On my command!”

The crew quickly got to work with the loaders unloading the previous clip of shells dropping it to the ground and taking a new equally as large clip from a crate sitting just nearby. Both were needed to lift, taking it in their magical grip and as they loaded it into the side, they ejecting the first shell, reloading the scattershot. The range finder began pushing the handle attached to the bed of the cannon causing it to rotate slightly until it was pointed directly at the wall itself. He then pulled back on one attached to the barrel while also disengaging the gear lock system until the barrel was in place aiming straight for the top of the wall, lined with civilians looking on along with a few royal guards ponies.

“Target set my Princess,” the crew captain exclaimed for Quariomy.

After the chaos of warriors falling into rank settled down the valley again fell silent and Quariomy waited for moments before from the very front of the wall came a white signal fired off high into the air signaling the warrior was in place.

“Princess?” the crew captain came urging for her command.

“Fire.”

With a grunt the gunner rammed his hoof into the end of the barrel kicking the piston forward igniting the powder, kicking the barrel back for another shot while letting loose on the wall of Noriphmy with a thunderous, deafening boom.

Ponies cried out as most were wounded only a few dead as they were pelted with hundreds of pellets. Instinctively, they ran for their lives fearing another shot as each one tumbled over the other just to get away. Now with the top of the wall nearly deserted Quariomy looked on in anticipation.

From the forward ranks of the warriors a single pony stepped forward this one dressed in the same armor but with a different array of skills all together. With the civilians safely away he set a hoof on the wall feeling it's stoney texture and the hardness thereof. Calming his mind he focused and with one slight twitch of his hoof the massive wall cracked under the slightest of pressure.

Pulling back, he swiftly rammed his hoof into the fortified only for it to turn to dust at his touch. He lept back once again and this time without even touching he arched his hoof forward and pushed, were as the six story section of wall he had shortly worked against fell inward, toppling down in a massive collision of structure to earth.

Seeing the new found opening to Noriphmy, a good distance away from the gate itself, Quariomy shot forward two white signals and as they passed over the heads of the warriors. Horace withdrew his sword shouting for them to charge. Only hours after into the dusk, was the capital finally theirs...

Chapter 4 The False Interpreter

View Online

The Twenty Mile March
The twenty mile march. That was what the trial to Safe Guard was called and known to any criminal or guardsman. The twenty mile march, a rigorous advancement, any prosecuted soul must undertake. Being tied to a mine cart weighted by a surplus of supplies… and you were expected to haul the entirety of it to the destination. It seems a burden but most would say it's for the best as in the cart itself contains the very things one needs to survive in such a place as SafeGuard.

A pickaxe to do your job rightly. Protective leather hide for protection against heat. Hardened leggings to protect your legs. A facial mask for blast protection. Ear mufflers for protection against the sound blast itself. A wooden slab to make a bed out of. A metal gate and three bars of Iron to keep up your tools and equipment as well as the tools and equipment themselves.

On arrival you were expected to carve out your own holding cell putting your pickaxe to work against the stone wall. The gate was your confinement and the wooden slab was your only solace. Then you were put to work putting the pick axe to stone farming rocks for construction, finding metals for production and gold for the treasury of Noriphmy. Food would then be served in a ration of hardened bread and a bowl of tasteless porridge, and then the next day you were to be at it again. Day in and day out this was the fate, day in and day out until you served your time.

This was the fate of any convict and this was the fate of Igneous, wrong as it should have been. One step after the other on the steep-ish incline on the mountainous range. Putting hoof to smoothen wooden planks with each edge facing SafeGuard having been all to smoothen down by the many who traveled the path before. On his left and on his right few followed in the same path on tracks of their own. Each, looking down to the next riggoress step he/she would take. None laid before Igneous only a few just behind. One step in front of the other, that was the cause. One step in front of the other painful as it was.

He looked ahead,He saw the distance. It wasn’t even the end, just another turn up past the ridge that would take them to yet another long straight away that, in itself, seemed twenty miles long but hardly even a mile far. The cold didn’t bite seeing as the pain and exhaustion already picked what was left to the bone.

None of them were supervised, any with magic having their catalyst bound. Igneous reflected on the stories hearing how some died on the march because another in front faltered in his step sending a whole convoy of marchers down along with, crushing those behind on the way down. Only because of this did they allow five a day although the last two were expected to die if the first mistook even a single step.
Five miles, five tracks and twenty five marchers.

The Magnolevin Estoc of Noriphmy and the Oneirocriticas of Istudious
The capital take over had been swift and, as Quariomy had asked, bloodless as possible. The citizens were urged to stay home, the royal guard was rounded up, most surrendering others holding out in buildings were too they surrendered and the castle was seized were in even the royal guards captain surrendered without a fight.

The take over was swift;no pony tried to be a hero.

Quariomy watched from where the cannons were which is to say just outside the wall were they last left off. She didn’t need to see to its take over as she had just as much faith in Horace’s ability to command as any pony would. Keeping Igneous close by with a guard of four, they were spared from the ensuing chaos from within.

It was only when during the dusk of day did Horace come again from the section of destroyed wall and said it was safe for the princess to enter.

Nodding her head she gave the her last few direct orders of the day saying, “It’s good. Nicely done Horace.”

She waved her hoof behind her in the general direction of the cannons line up and said, “See to it they’re mounted on the walls and that should be all.” Looking at Igneous, still chained looking as rundown as ever she said, “My prince should escort me through the streets of Noriphmy. I’m sure he’ll show me the nice places within,” and with a smile looking back to Horace. She said, “It’ll be lovely.”

“Yes, my Princess. I’ll see to it the cannons are mounted.”

“Also send a few celestials to notify the other garrisons of our victory and to immediately start posting warriors in various villages for their safety.”

With a nod she replied, “That will be all general.” She waved for the warriors watching Igneous to allow him forward and as she made her way northward of the wall for the main gate that now stood open, she paused and said, “Oh, Horace, one more?”

“Yes My Princess?” he said turning once again to dutifully face her.

Still facing the gate she turned her head in his general direction, “Do point the cannons outwards and that will be all.” She then continued on her way towards the gates. Her whitened fur still soaked with the blood of her own face.

Horace took a moment of thought to her order then snapping back he unsurely muttered, “Yes… my princess.”

Being amidst the capital Quariomy couldn’t help but marvel at its magnificents. The streets were empty as a cause of her high order but it still held plenty of life within it. She couldn’t help but notice its layout with its general district being centered, outgoing towards the western wall with the urban areas being steeply inclined on both the north and the south sides were as the capital sat in the easternmost part of the capital itself upon the mountain that overlooked all of its nation. Leading up to it the eastern parts of the city were always elevated more than its western part with the North and South areas being generally the same elevation.

Walking down the street with a childish smile on her face she couldn’t help but notice that every forty yards there were slits in the side of the roads that echoed with the sounds of water.

Seemingly bounding up to one she pointed to it and asked, “My Prince, what are these?”

Best he could think was, “Gutters.”

“Gutters?” she said looking to him with a look of perplexity. “They hold water?”

What did he know? “They erm, channel the water flow from the mountains into an advanced underground pipe system managed by our ponies. They enables us to use active pumps in our households as well as keep the streets clean and dry of water fall.”

“Active pumps. Hm,” she thought holding a hoof up to her chin. Looking back she asked, “There's no flooding?”

“Only if it rains hard enough,” he answered. “But very rarely.”

She looked at it once more with curiosity before moving on with Igneous to follow accompanied by the warriors watching him. The streets had no snow unless it was beaten into the cracks, but most rooftops did. The day had been warm for the weather so it made sense to the Prince Noriphmy.

Through the windows Igneous could see the shopkeepers and citizens who got caught in the streets and forced inside watch on with curiosity as warriors walked by, patrolling, along with the Princess herself who took notice and often times happily waved at them were as they awkwardly, for lack of a better word, waved back at the armored, bloodied princess.

She would ask a few more questions, each one, Igneous would do his best to answer as they slowly made their way upwards towards the castle lying far ahead.

It was only then, at the very top of the general district did she see a large structure constructed partly into the mountain below the castle in the shape of a circle did she stop and ask, “That their my Prince, What is it?”

Looking to where she was pointing he elevated his gaze and instantly knew. Looking back to her he said, “That there my Princess is the Magnolevin Estoc Arena.”

“The Magnolevin Estoc?” she tilted her head at him.

“A lot of general events take place at the Estoc Arena,” he said. “It's always open to the public.”

Looking to the arena then looking back to Igneous she asked, “Can… My Prince, can you take me there?”

Was she really asking? It felt like it came out of nowhere but glancing to his left then to his right making eye contact with both forward warriors he thought it was best to say, “Yes my Princess. Of course.”

She allowed him to take the lead with his chains dragging across the stone worked path as he took her down streets, one after the other until they came across the mane street through the central district that led directly up to the front entrance of the Estoc Arena. Passing through a myriad of clothing shops, banquets and dinners Igneous led her inside the archway opening big enough to allow crowds of ponies going both ways in and out at once.

The iron gates had been lifted by order during the take over and now remained open as well as the hard, carven, wooden doors to the arenas stadium itself. Igneous pushed it open allowing Quariomy in first. Following suit, along with the warriors, he witnessed her standing there in awe just being in the presence of the sear size of the Magnolevin Estoc.

“How big is this place?” she asked as her head slowly panned around taking in every intricate detail of the arena itself.

Now unlike most facts of his own capital he may not have known the exact measurement of the Estoc Arena floor was very well known as being, “One hundred metres in all directions my Princess.” One tenth of a kilometer is known as an Estoc measurement because of this. As for the size of the stadium and the size of which it held was not exactly known to the public as it wasn’t a perfect ‘zero,’ number as the arena floor was. However it did hold four flights of seats, each succeeding flight over lapping the former half way out while holding half the amount of seats also.

Right now they stood on the third flight over looking the rest below. The third flight itself was considered to be the, ‘ground level,’ so to say, because although the Estoc Arena my not have stood very tall, it was largely due to the fact that it was carved from the ground to begin with. As a result most of it was hidden within the earth itself.

Quariomy started making her way over to the edge of the balcony peering over at the flights of seats below. Above Igneous would often times see celestials flying around keeping watch over the streets. Still taken back by the architecture of the mostly underground structure she sat down on the nearest stone bench just behind her. “Come here, my Princess,” she said beckoning him to sit.

He agreed politely, making his way to her and sitting down chains still holding fast.

Continuing to look on as the sun slowly disappeared behind the spires of the castle she finally spoke again, “Tell me more Igneous. When was this place built? Tell me everything I want to know.”

He wasn’t exactly educated on every precise detail but the Magnolevin Estoc held its own peace of significant history which largely paved the ground for Noriphmie's customs.

“This structure,” he cautiously began, thinking of the best way to word his explanation. “Actually began construction during the first few years of Carridian Verex’es reign long after the rule of Kordan Verex and the first war of the valley of Carridian.”

She nodded saying, “Oh yes.” Her words came off a bit passive aggressive. She continued saying, “Yes I’m very well acquainted with the history of my ancestors and the stories of Kordan.” She then dramatically threw her hooves saying, “The infamous first invader, conqueror and king of the great valley now known as Carridian.”

Igneous allowed himself to fall silent for a moment as she continued. “Most feel his attack on the mining village was justified as he was only doing his part to insure his village's well being. But you see my Prince when he started expanding his little collection of only two villages it was because none of the others, farming or logging, would do trade. So he needed them under his control but what happened soon after, as you know, spiraled into the first war of Carridian with Kordan and his army of ponies wielding fixed weaponry. Only many years later after he destroy all triple alliances forming one great nation of the valley did ponies start to see the glimmer of good in all the bloodshed.

“Though his successor, Carridian Verex didn’t hold this ideal.” Igneous continued to look on insisting he not set her too far off. “You see because he split his one great nation into three only then did great conflict erupt.” She held up a hoof, “First he was young and naive. He haddn’t thought to appoint and official ruler over the two other nations as a result wars within both nations erupted between houses left and right.

“The house of Grelick was very substantial, raising armies fighting against the house of Cretical who also took to arms, in an effort to claim the throne of the now accused third nation. Manny innocent ponies died in that bloody conflict for power. All while Carridian was praised for his act of, ‘mercy,’ and, ‘generosity,’ most say. However two whole nations didn’t have to fall to civil war, in fact there shouldn’t have been another nation to speak of my Prince. Everything should have been at peace.”

The moment fell silence after she finished her historical rant, but it wasn’t long before she turned to Igneous and asked, “What houses raged war on Noriphmy, my Prince?”

Something he also knew. “The house of Lissium and the house of Estoc,” he stated.

“Oh?” she said turning to him at the mention of the name. “Surely there is a reason why the Estoc arena is named as such then.” He nodded. “Do go on my Prince. Explain to me please.”

“Right,” he said as he cleared his throat. “Like you said, yes old Noriphmy was plunged into immediate war for the throne of the kingdom itself. Many houses rose up but the two main competitors were the house of Lissium and the house of Estoc. To spare you the smaller details Estoc ultimately won banishing every pony apart of the house of Lissium to the mountains. As a long term result they became our nation's bandits along with the other lost houses as well.”

“How do you deal with them my Prince?” she asked lowering her head to his.

“Often times with falconers like myself... We kill them.”

He looked over to her and watched Quariomy in thought before she said, “Seems fitting but perhaps not so. Anyways,” she said waving a hoof. “Please continue.”

“Now when the throne was officially claimed, order fell over Noriphmy in kind. This marked the first kingsmanship of old Noriphmy and it was led by Vrem Estoc. His rule was kind enough trade was fine and the nations were at peace. However he had a brother, Magnolevin. They got along well but seeing as Vrem had a son and his health was becoming increasingly poor he knew his brother would have to take the throne as his son was just a colt.

“So not wanting the blood of his younger brother to take the nation from his short rule he had him imprisoned and sentenced to fight in the arena. Now during this time the arena was a prisoners only salvation. Seeing as so most would prefer to stay sanctioned at safe guard rather than risk brutal mutilation as entertainment for the masses. However Magnolevin didn’t fear as so accepted the trial of the arena.

“Yes, he slayed ponies, yes some gruesomely but only as an act to survive. It was only when he came out victorious at the end of the season did Vrem finally take notice. Instead of giving him his due he put him through even more challenges slaying not just ponies but wolves bears and beasts of nature alike. For years he did this gathering wounds, spilling the blood of his own but again he never fell to the blade or teeth of a predator and instead continued to succeed the challenges.

“While Vrem grew increasingly i'll and hateful towards his younger brother, the warriors of the time did take to his attitude. In fact, they actually kept in Magnoliven’s company whenever they had the chance. He would always talk, teach and tell them things. He would tell them stories of adventurers and of lands beyond the mountains. He would speak in metaphors using words like ash, fire and embers.” Quariomy then turned her head towards Igneous were as he didn’t notice and instead continued to explain. “Ash as destruction, Fire as a symbol of our nation and embers; a force held within the bodies of every pony.”

“Day after day he would kill the packs of captured wolves. The mother and father bears taken from the forest and criminals drunken with the promises of riches and wealth as a reward for the head of this legend. He soon grew tired of it all and becoming the warriors over to his cell late one night he whispered into their ears saying how he desired a challenge, something more… formidable.

“And so the hunt began every warrior looking for a challenger to test the fixed weaponry of Magnoliven Estoc but wherever they looked and how far they traveled no one could find such an opponent; all having heard of this legend and the skill in which he fought. So having had the warriors band together they enlisted the newly formed Falconering groups to, not hunt and kill a monster, but instead to capture one all together.

“When news of this was made known to Vrem, his sickness now having bedridden him, he said Magnolevin could fight this beast in the arena on only one condition. That was he could fight only in the darkness of night, no moon, dull stars. The warriors at this point dutifully agreed along with Magnolevin himself.

“And that night, taking to the themes Magnolevin had always taught by, they filled the entirety of the arena with wooden logs, planks, roofing and anything flammable and set it alight in the dusk of day, and by the end of it all hours after the burning the ground lay their littered with bright glowing embers and ash, illuminating the arena altogether.

“Stepping through the gates, armor equipped, fixed blade on his right, and the newly developed earthenering equipment on his left he faced the beast as it crawled out on all fours. Its eyes darting wildly left and right, forked tongue flicking all about and clawed hands of a greater beast scratching at the ashen covered grounds in the illumination of the embers.”

“When the fight begun all that could be said was it was spectacular. Ash and embers flying left and right. Magnolevin battling this greater beast cutting, charging, shooting, ramming. He did it all while the embers glew bright and the roaring stadium cheered him on, and by the end of it all he stood tall untouched, armor unscratched as the beast fell to its knees and later to its death in defeat as it laid amongst the glowing embers of Magnolevin.”

“Vrem died that night. Some say as the beast fell dead too, but his last act of life was the approving nod and acceptance that Magnolevin Estoc would be the one to lead Noriphmy. And so it was and Magnolevin Estoc’s rule was kind.”

Finishing his story he took a deep breath. He then looked to Quariomy who seemed to ponder over the story he just told as she stared into the arena. Looking back he found the guards still sitting, two looking skywards the other two whispering amongst themselves.

With the moment having gone quiet he spoke up again, “And so in the theme of Magnolevin we hold each year one final trial, burning the wood covering the ground in embers, setting the champion loose on a beast annually caught for the occasion. Only one Falconering group forgoes the term monster hunter and instead briefly adopts the term monster catcher for such an occasion.”

Quariomy still looked on deep in thought leaving Igneous to sit by, unallowed to move under the watchful eyes of the warriors.

It was only when one of the warriors behind quietly laughed a another one’s remark did she come back down, looking to Igneous, saying, “Oh yes My Prince. It's a very great tale. It seems there's something to be admired about this Magnolevin Estoc character, but that will be all.”

By now the sun had gone away leaving the stars to slowly start to break through the dark canvas of the night sky and as it did Quariomy waved a hoof to her warriors and said, “Do escort him to the royal prison cells and I’ll find my way to the castle under the eyes of the celestials.”

They answered the all too familiar jingle Igneous was becoming tired of. Walking up to Igneous one of them said, “Come on, Prince. Do follow.” This was accompanied by the tap of the broadside of a longsword as he slowly stood up.

They led him away back out the door they had came and back into the streets leaving Quariomy to herself in the Magnolevin Estoc. She thought over his words and the story. She drew a parallel of how Istudians would revel in the blood of pony. Speaking of the heart as the Nation itself like the fire was to Noriphmyians. How the blood was the spirit of the citizen like the ember was to them. However unlike ash that withheld the meaning of destruction the bone withheld the meaning of strength and power of mortals.

But something even more prominent than these similes begged for her attention above all else. Her mind fell back many, many, many months ago to the day she sat on her throne within the castle of Istudious. Made of rock and withholding the same architecture with spires and all she sat in the great hall with warriors posted along the whole of the corridor. She was being red off reports and she listened earnestly and with real intent but it only when another warrior came in did her attention draw away from the first.

Raising a hoof the first fell silent and looking to the second she nodded for him to speak. “My Princess,” he began confident and in good health. “The Oneirocriticas, they’ve arrived.”

“Have they?” she said. Motioning with her head she said, “Well, let them in so that I may speak with them.”

He nodded saying, “Yes my Princess,” He turned away and exited but soon entered in again holding the door for three different ponies. Two were stallions. One a mare. Each were dressed differently. Each wore different coloured garbs that hung just above the ground each bearing a striking pattern of their own.

One’s stallions face was painted partially black while from the mare’s mane hung an assortment of different trinkets and oddities as well as some valuable looking jewelry which every single one of them flaunted.

Leaning over the arm of the throne Morallis whispered through the side of his mouth, “Are these really the one’s you sent for?”

Whispering back she said, “if they say they are Oneirocriticas then they may be able to help.”

“They look of Guewls,” he he muttered.

Quariomy couldn’t help but agree as she stifled a laugh as she shooed the head of Morallis away. Turning her full attention to the three she formally greeted them, “Welcome good ponies. As you may have heard I have been in recent search of Oneirocriticas.” Looking them each in the eyes she said, “you each vouch that you are?”

They each nodded and the rightmost stallion said, “Yes my princess. Any dream needing interpretation I’ll see it done quickly.”

“Also, Princess,” said the leftmost stallion. “I too will see it done quickly.”

“As will I,” said the mare. This pony, being a celestial.

It was clear to Quariomy that these ponies were at competition with one another. No doubt over the reward promised with the satisfaction of their services. It was fine as it wasn’t a crime so long as they delivered with their promises. She smiled and nodded saying, “That's good... That's very good of you. I have faith in you all.” They all smiled back dressed in their attire, Quariomy being fully armored and weaponized with both her longswords laying against the arm of the throne under the watch of Morallis himself. Leaning back in the softness of her throne she said sat there and waited.

The Oneirocriticas stood there also not taking to long before they started to look unsurely on at the princess expecting a command of some kind.

“Well?” she said. “Go on. Interpret the dream will you.” They all exchanged glances with one another, each unsure as to her command. Looking earnestly on Quariomy asked, “Well what is it?”

After a moment more did the mare come forward and say, “My princess.”

“Yes?”

“The dream..” she said. “You must’ve forgotten but we can't interpret such a thing that hasn’t first been mentioned.”

She lowered her gaze as she looked to the stallions that stood aside her. “Can’t interpret such a thing that hasn’t been mentioned,” she repeated slowly. “Does this wisdom hold true to you as well?” she asked the stallions.

They both slowly nodded and as they did Morallis's gaze slowly shifted to Quariomy and her stature. “Hasn’t been mentioned,” she said again. “Well certainly you mistaken as it has infact been mentioned.” Opening a hoof up to her friend that stood just next to her she said, “Morallis knows of this dream as I have said it, so seeing as it has been mentioned logically you should be able to interpret it.”

“But my Princess,” came the leftmost stallion. “How must we know if you haven’t told us.”

“Yes,” agreed the rightmost. “Tell us the dream and only then can we tell you its meaning.”

“Tell you the dream,” she again repeated. “Tell you the dream. Tell, you. The dream.” Celestials mounted on buttresses within the hall began to avert their gaze from the open sky and downwards towards the tension flooding in from below. Looking to the three once more she said, “You think me a raeray?”

“Princess?” nervously went the mare. “Do you think me a fool too? That I’m a young naive little nyth of a princess?”

Ears flicked and bodies tensed as the guards attention drew to the princess and the self proclaimed Oneirocriticas that now stood nervously in her presence, their attention drawn in by her swear.

“Do you?” she flatly asked.

They shook their head one saying, “No, never. Princess,” though it was something the all would have said.

“Tell you the dream,” she once again repeated. “Tell you the dream? No, tell me the dream,” she said her voice becoming tense. “Tell me what I saw and tell me what it means. As princess of Istudious, I command you.”

“But princess,” came the leftmost. “We can’t tell you the dream.”

Looking to him he became petrified as she responded, “Why?”

This time the mare came saying, “Princess were merely ponies we can’t know what won't be made known. We can only read what's been written and such is the dream,” she said stepping forward only to quickly retreat once Quariomy looked a her. “Only a god, could,” she nervously whimpered.

“And what god do you speak of?” she asked. “Aminus? The Hexers perhaps or maybe some dreamt up deity who resides in a book perhaps, no?”

None of them answered. With great disappointment she slowly rose from her throne, Morallis pretending to look else were as well as the celestials and warriors below. Standing atop the flight of stairs leading up to her, fifteen in total, she said, “You rely on the power of gods do you not? Aminus a great being who trusted this nation into destruction. Would you put your faith in him?”

“Never,” could have been said by any one of them.

“Then you would put your faith in me, a partaker in the first covenant?” They nodded. “Then when I say interpret the dream then you should lack not the power to do so, yes?”

They didn’t project any obvious answer.

She began to unlace her armor and she said, “I sought out your profession and ability you see. I offer you riches yet in the presence of me You Can’t Perform Your Famed Act!”

She yelled as she threw her leggings at the three of them while also unlocking more of her armor. “I Led This Nation With You In It! I Asked Little Of You! All Of You, And Now When I Ask Of Your Services Once You Refuse To Deliver!”

At this point as she descended the steps she pelted the Oneirocriticas with her that she continued to strip from her body. Leggings, plates, mail she threw it all most of which hit a target.

“Have My Armor, Have My Possessions,” She shouted. “Interpret the Dream!”

“We Can't!” she cried, though again, it could have been said by any one of them.

Throwing the last piece of her armor she stood there breathing heavily unarmed unprotected. Looking to her left at the base of the steps was the chest. The reward that was to be given to the ones who could interpret the dream. Marching over to it she opened it up even as the three picked themselves up from the abuse. Grabbing a golden goblet they couldn’t help but admire its purity and beauty as it glimmered in the sunlight from above.

Quariomy then turned and threw this too hitting the mare in the head causing her to cry out in pain. She picked up another golden object and threw this too picking up another in her magical grip and throwing it too as she said, “your liars you hear! I promised you gold, and spat in my face!” Gold coins flew hitting the floor. Golden rocks were hurled, most hitting their marks and when she was finally done the three of them laid there amongst a pile of all kinds of golden objects, some of which covered in crimson red blood. Walking her way over to them she kicked aside the coins and trinkets of gold and said, “Yewls. Stand. As princess I command you yewls to stand and look me in the eyes one at a time.”

Slowly each and every one of the three picked themselves up standing even as they all bled. Starting with the leftmost pony she took him by the snout with her magical grip angling his face downward allowing her to see clearly into his eyes. When she did he felt that everything about him was immediately made known. He felt exposed and naked even as he was fully clothed and when she was done he could hardly stand. It was something in her eyes, something deep within.

She did this with the mare and the rightmost stallion and when she was done she turned away from them all ascending the fifteen steps and taking her seat with Morallis standing by. Looking to them all they stood their as if they no longer wanted to be in their own skin and instead, forge a new identity with a new life and new feelings.

“I'm disappointed in you, all of you,” she said resuming her previous tone. “Liars by profession. Thieves in actual practice.” She allowed a moment of silence as they stood amongst the gold and warriors around. “Greshic Rissis,” she said looking to the rightmost stallion whose ears immediately flicked up at the mention of his very name. “Thieving from an ill gotten elder. Lying to let another die and extorting others and their well being.”

He fell grim and it was written on his face as his head lowered to the ground in utter sorrow.

Quariomy then said, “Look up, Greshic.” He did and meeting her gaze she said, “You're sentenced to death.”
“Rellithal Rickly,” she said now setting her eyes on the mare who already began to back down. “A thief, an arsonist, an extorter and a murderer.” She fell to the floor crying with her forehead pressed against the floor and Quariomy said, “Your sentence, Rellithal, is also death.”
All she could do was cry along with Greshic. Quariomy then raised a hoof and said, “Take them away. Your sentence will be carried out tomorrow, the both of you.” They didn’t argue nor resist as the warriors placed restricted chains around their hooves front to back and escort them away softly kicking aside gold that littered the ground.

As the doors to the hall shut with their leave Morallis leaned over once again and said, “Quariomy. Have you forgotten about the third?”

“No,” she said. “I will deal with him personally.”

“Your scabbards then,” he said lifting her swords in his magical grip transferring it over to Quariomy’s as she stared down the third who stood their refusing to look anywhere but down, no doubt fearing for his life.

“Warriors and celestials leave this place; I want to speak to him alone.” The warriors nodded marching out doors and passageways in unison as the celestials all took off into the sky. In a quieter voice she said, “And you as well, Morallis.”

“As you wish, Quariomy,” he said with a giddy grin skipping down the stairs and kicking the gold in the thirds general direction as he left with a misleading smile making him all the more nervous and scared.

When the final doors had closed, five in all two on each side and one at the very end, she looked to the third and said, “And so all that remains is you.”

“Princess,” he weakly said trembling on his hooves.

“No,” she said as she stood up once again and began strapping the scabbard of her longsword to her bear whitened fur. “Don’t speak. Not unless I say.”

He swallowed and nodded as she slowly made her way down the fifteen steps to him.

“Now tell me,” she began. “Are you an Oneirocritica?” He shook his head not having specifically been told to speak. “Then what are you? Speak.”

Something told him that Quariomy already knew so there was no sense in lying. “A farmer,” he said with a trembling voice as he nervously eyed the hilts of her long swords that hung on each side as she began circling him, shifting gold with every step.

“So you know then?” she said. “The famine of our nation and the hardships thereof?” He nodded. “I also see that there is a dearly beloved.” His ears flicked upwards. “Tell me her name.”

“Anri,” he answered.

“Tell me about the farm.”

“It’s a poor place,” he began. “Hundreds of acres yet little food grows. Only a few workers to move the ground and yet those that do work steal and thieve from me and my work. Yet still they expect a ransom for their lackluster duties.” He continued as Quariomy came about, “The yielding pay is also poor. I raise my sword often fighting bandits and killers. My living space is withered and run down yet even still, through all my hardships and downfalls, Anri has stayed by me despite thieves, despite hunger and despite my poor household.”

She nodded, “And like a heartfelt lover you wanted to provide, give more than asked?”

He nodded.

“You refuse to arrest the thieves knowing that they are only doing it to save their own family and household.”

His eyes were beginning to tear as he nodded again.

“And you devised a clever plan to act as a Oneirocritica, dawning the similar attire of which and hopefully acquiring the soon after a contrived explanation.”

“Yes,” he whimpered with tears beginning to fall.

She stopped just in front of him as he averted his gaze elsewhere to avoid looking her in the eyes.

“Look down,” she said. He did looking to all the golden coins and trinkets that lay on the ground amongst the pieces of her own armor. “Do you see this?” she said gesturing with her hoof.

He nodded once again. “This is a third of the treasury of Istudious. Do you agree with me that it's poor?” Again he nodded.

“Horace,” she said causing his ears to flick up. Picking up the goblet with her magical grip she pressed it against his chest and said, “Take this. Give it to Anri and provide what you so willingly wanted to.”

“Princess?”

Picking up a collection of gold coins she placed them within the goblet itself and said, “Take these and give it to the workers who you provided for with free food so that they will also live with life well assured.”

She turned and began to make her way back to her throne leaving the goblet of coins in his possession but Horace felt like he didn’t deserve so he said,

“My Princess, No!” She stopped. “I should be imprisoned and executed like the others. I lied to you, I was dishonest my Princess.”

“Yes,” she said. “A simple liar. Not an extorter, arsonist nor thief.” Turning to him she continued, “You’re an honest pony Horace. Honest ponies tell lies but only the lies that protect others. You, Horace were looking out after Anri, your dearly beloved. You also took into consideration your workers who tend the farm. You would have shared this reward but only at the mercy of a lie.”

He was lost for word and as Quariomy sat back down letting loose with a white signal that flew through the skyline of the roof and outside Horace said, “Princess how do you know all this about me and about them?”

As doors opened with warriors reentered and celestials returning to their mounts she pointed to an eye with her hoof and said, “The covenant of insight, Horace.” And with a generous smile as Morallis took his place by her side once again she said, “Come again with your sword, I have great plans for you.”

Quariomy then shook her head and her mind left this memory and came back down to the Estoc Arena where she still sat three flights of seats up. The sun had completely left yet her celestials still remained on those buttresses high above keeping watch with sharpened clawed gauntlets. “Ash, Fire and Embers,” she muttered to herself. “My prince it seems you’ve interpreted my dream.”

And with that she led herself out of the Estoc Arena having her warrior's guide her way up to the castle.

Chapter 5 Court of Quariomy

View Online

The Former Counsel of Noriphmy
In the days that had passed a lot had happened. The streets had been closed for the majority of the new day of the final siege on Noriphmy but only having them open for only a short amount of time to let the citizens run home. The royal guard had been processed one at a time leading them from their cells to be evaluated by Quariomy herself. She judged them by their skill, purpose and intent and after all had been processed she found the royal guard to be absolutely terrible, under-trained and utterly lackluster in their duties.

Most hardly had formal training, some were corrupted and the rest just couldn’t amount to expectations and standards of the warriors of Istudious. That being said the royal guard couldn’t be wholly reformed. There were no executions only a few were imprisoned for over abuse in power and the rest were let go. However all that had been pardoned were offered a place in the ranks of her army where they would receive formal training, great respect and a new sense of ideals joining in what she called, “the new kingdom of Carridian.”

With this there was a divide between the former guards of Noriphmy and even though some sided with her the others refused and left quietly soon after.

Tensions were high, as one could imagine, and the warriors who dutifully occupied streets of the capital, although docile, didn’t help to ease that stress much either. There was a lot of talk about uprising and the odds seemed great. Three thousand warriors spread thin and sparse amongst the nation with more than one million citizens strong. However this was mostly talk about while within taverns and feverishly drunk while warriors, too, laughed along to their propositions. Still if citizens were laughing about uprising it wouldn’t be long before such fantasies became reality.

To help deter this she set about arresting each and every council member of the old kingdom. This would take time as they all went into hiding during the initial takeover, but even after a day of search and arrests, and with help of the already acquainted former royal guards members, they had already found and captured more than half. Not only the royal guard but they also managed to capture and arrest four fifths of a whole team of three.

They, for now, were thrown and kept in the cells of the Magnoliven Estoc while Quariomy insisted none of the council members would be judged and processed until each and every last one had been arrested.

As the search and questioning continued, Quariomy set to funding the trade embargoes while also reinforcing certain convoys with a few warriors of her very own to protect against the bandits of the lost houses of Noriphmy. This was a major decision as during the march on Noriphmy trade had been critically cut off crippling parts of the national economy. Because of this common foods items increased in price as well as wood, cloth, metals and other assorted materials.

This decision to fund the trade embargoes meant that they could sell items for a much lower fee meaning trade would flourish once again, and the villages affected by the ramification prior would recover much more quickly.

The mining villages where another issue as they were promised a portion of the treasury for their output in specialized rails and unique machinery parts. This she followed through on although her promise would be fulfilled by only ten percent every month until the debt was paid in full. She wouldn’t start to see the tracks made for her until weeks later when certain trade convoys returned, but until then all she could continue to do was further her preparations.

With corruption gone and the economy on its way to recovery every citizen started taking to Quariomy a lot better than they had before. This was good however large franchises of Noriphmy began to destabilize. This was because the council members, as one could imagine, were of great nobility and owned and directed most of them.

She had no substitutes in mind and every council member having been chained and accounted for, Quariomy finds herself awaiting the arrival of the former counsel now chained and bound by the hooves and with the threat of nationwide collapse she intended to make this fast.

Horace escorted them in along with a collection of four other warriors. As they marched them through the great doors of the castle courtroom. Raising their heads they come to see the sights they’ve all known before.

The floors where both wood lined with finely smoothen oak which encased solid tiles made of granite. The hall faced north with windows looking out westward to the capital just below. Only two high standing pillars held the roof aloft, both centered near the respective center of the room leaving much room to the ponies who often times occupied the flooring.

The aforementioned occupants were a small number of advisers who knew better about Noriphmy then Quariomy as well as a few messenger celestials and eight warriors set to guard. Two of which were Noriphmians.

Above the roof held rafters that stretched along the length of the room holding pedestals for Celestials to mount themselves atop to keep watch. Most were vacated as only four were needed and like the warriors below they too kept watch with spring-ready, clawed gauntlets equipped and prepped for use. From above they could see everything save it for the throne itself as it was well hidden by a pillar that hung low blocking the line of sight from any would-be assassins above.

On this throne is where Quariomy sat just like she did in Istudious. Tall, proud and exceptionally ready for any report read from a piece of parchment, or in this case the council members of the old kingdom.

Shuffling them in one at a time they numbered twenty four in total. Sixteen male the rest female. They stood in formation with three rows of eight in no particular order. Horace relieved himself of his given duty and approached Quariomy and took his place at her side.

“The council members of Noriphmy,” he said to nopony but her. “Just as you asked.”

“Thank you Horace,” she genuinely complimented. “Please, stand by as I deal with them.”

Just as she asked he made his way over to her, walking up the steps to the throne. “Quariomy?” he silently asked only after taking his place next to her. “May I speak to you privately after this whole affair?”

She nodded, “Only after General. For now, stay by me if you will and conduct this trial.” He answered the same way he always did and stood tall next to her as she examined the prisoners that stood nervously before her.

“Yes my Princess.” Raising his voice he spoke clearly drawing their attention, “ponies of Istudious, former council of Noriphmy and of the old kingdom of Carridian. You find yourself here on account of affiliation but most importantly, corruption.” In a quieter tone he asked Quariomy, “Shall I list the charges?”

“Of course,” she answered.

Drawing on his excellent memory he took a deep breath and announced, “For those under corruption they are: political corruption, tax evasion, discreet money proliferation, suspected blackmail amongst yourselves as well as extortion. Contracted larceny, contracted arson and contracted murder. Those mentioned also coincides with affiliation and employment of criminal groups within and outside of the capital of Noriphmy.”

As Quariomy looked over them most avoided her gaze as they did their best not to do anything that would set her off on them since she had the power to have them executed on the spot. It was a probability but something most of them thought was inevitable. Still, those with nothing to fear worried they might be prosecuted falsely though there was only three of the twenty four not entirely guilty.

“With that being said,” he continued. “To list a few details on your operations you campaigned for a false sense of resource scarcity. That goes for wood, food, stone, metals and other assorted goods. Another entity to be mentioned would be the false proclamations of a depleted national treasury. As an effect certain prices raised. The price of gold and other rare metals rose and you arresting any pony who knew better and could see past this elaborate scheme.” Looking over them once more he asked, “Would any one of you entirely deny these claims already mentioned?” None of them bothered. Horace nodded and said, “The princess will administer the consequences to those who are guilty. Any here by affiliation and nothing more may have nothing to fear.”

Quariomy then stood as soon as he finished and as the celestials kept watch from above and the warriors below, she slowly descended the stairs with armor equipped and swords at her side. “You three,” she said vaguely gesturing to them in particular. “Stand apart as I’m sure you know who you are.” At her command three ponies, a stallion and two mares, slowly shuffled away from the group standing on either side. Looking to them she announced, “you three are free of these claims. There for you will find your place within the reformed council of the new kingdom of Carridian.”

They were grateful for having been recognized so suddenly and as they continuously thanked her, two warriors unchained their hooves setting them free.

“Take your leave and come again at dawn.”

After their chains fell to the floor they eagerly thanked her before exiting the doorway to the hall. Now all who remained were guilty and all they could do was wait for Quariomy to sentence them to whatever punishment she seemed fit. Death was a popular opinion amongst the corrupted counsel but they couldn't say for certain, at least not until the princess herself said otherwise.

Giving them all one last she said, “It seems we meet here today with unsavory circumstances. I as a princess would have loved to integrate you all into the new council of Noriphmy but having heard all these things based on corruption, I as a princess with an image to uphold in this foreign nation, can’t simply allow all these transgressions to go unpunished with swift and harsh cruelty.”

Making her way down the stairs she began to advance on them, slowly but evenly and confidently.

“The lot of you seem to be contemplating death, and I’ll assure, you all easily surpass such notions. A lasting, lingering death still wouldn’t suffice in my eyes. However it seems you all have families with children and wives or husbands you love dearly. This is touching but also disgusting given the things you allowed to go on in the night hours of Noriphmy. Death is too good for you, so now let me make your punishment very clear...”

She allowed herself to fall silent letting the anxiety and the tension in the hall build up. The warriors could feel it and they looked on with amusement, the council dreaded it and rightfully so.

“...each and every one of you will submit your place of living to the government, you will also forfeit your land, servants and personal belongings as well as your finances. All your money belongs to Noriphmy as well as your services. You will be moved to the outer districts beyond the wall and you’ll only be allotted the necessities for taking care of your family if you do have one. Your spouse won't suffer mortally, same for your children as they shouldn’t share in this punishment. However, the stallions of the former counsel shall after this night proclaim themselves as Gelding for the rest of their days.”

Immediately after this was said there was a few outburst from the former counsel of noriphmy, most of which had gasped saying, ‘no,’ while others begged her to reconsider. The warriors tentatively advanced drawing their swords and they immediately silenced themselves.

“Mares,” she continued. “Smile not for this night and the following night of the next week and weeks to come you will find yourself at the barracks of the warriors of Istudious. They will have their way with you and you will give them your consent until you bare a yewling foal of Istudious. You will mother this foal and you will care for this foal within your family already established. When he comes of age many years later he will submit himself to the armies of Istudious and this illegitimate child of a yewl will succeed your family and find a proper and honorable place within the new kingdom of Carridian.”

The mares now had their objections although most said so through fearful sobs and tears. Quariomy however wouldn’t give them the sympathy as she raised a hoof saying, “yes, this seems unfairly cruel and you all wonder why I don’t mount your head on a pike, no?”

It was a rhetorical question but still a stallion had the gall to object saying, “why not? You’ve taken away my home, my earnings, my place in this nation and my pride! Why not just put me down like an unwanted stray in the streets.”

This outburst should have been met with a savage beating but Quariomy actually seemed a little entertained at his defiance. With a little kick in her step she leaped forward from the bottom step and said, “oh because my noble, honest, well intentioned stallion. I find life can easily be your living demise.”

Stepping to the center of the hall she enacted her will of control by raising the stone table that secretly lied within the ground. It was an immensely heavy object that stretched most of the way through the hall stopping just short of the stairs to the throne and the threshold to the exit. It was smoothen to a shine and something that required multiple royal guards members just to life but something Quariomy found no problem in lifting even while atop it. The warriors were impressed and the prisoners had all the more reason to fear her.

Not even at a loss for breath she ringed, “Isn’t just fascinating to see the living writhe in agony beneath their own skin even as they live comfortably? Be it anxiety and fear or loss of will and with no control over destiny? Preferably your own.” Dancing to the end of the table Quariomy stood above them and sang as she pointed, “I control you. I control you, you and you. I control all of you. I control my army, this nation and its citizens. They fall before me and the same will be for you. Come again tomorrow. You have a nation to uphold and I won't let it fall to chaos because of your absence.”

“Come again?” cried a different stallion. “W-with all these punishments you want us to come again?”

With a smile she turned and answered, “Why yes. You should feel blessed to be graced by the princess and granted a seat within the reformed council of Noriphmy. Take it as this... what once were the bones of your glory will now be the bones of your punishment. Break them not for if you do it's the loved of yourselves who will pay.” Turning away satisfied with herself she let out one last remark speaking clearly for all to hear, “This time in death.”

The Wake of Conquest
Two figures walked by each side, one winged, the other catalysed. The day was clear by night was falling swiftly as they followed trails of the beaten grass that roughly followed alongside the dirt, muddied road that ironically was worse suited for travel. Adridge and Lindestic had been biding their time as they easily, but slowly made their way eastwards in the direction the Istudians traveled before. Neither of them spoke much unless it was to say there was a little dip in the terrain, thick bushes ahead or just needed to adjust their course. However they were few and far between.

Now as they traveled the sun fell behind them stretching their shadows for what seemed like miles they laid eyes on a light source far off in the distance. Without a word between one another they adjusted their direction and began making their way towards it.

It could have been a household, it could have been the army camps of Istudious.

If it was the latter then they would have seen celestials high above with armor and claws glistening in the moonlight but they did not. Instead it was the former, something they found out only after having traveled through beaten grasslands blazed by a muddied trail and wheel tracks of the canons whose weight cut through the course landscape.

Where the trails had ended wheat fields began, although harvested and bear. The mud they had grown from was now pockmarked with gauntleted hoof steps all round leading up to a clearing in the center of the fields with wooden house standing off around the perimeter with a stallion, seemingly old, looking out to them as he layed on the on the rough pine wooden porch.

The light they had previously seen wasn’t from a fire but instead the catalyst of a crying mother holding her son. Cut across the neck and stabbed in the back the mother refused to let go only continuing to weep for him as he layed in his leather bound armor with a sturdy low line sword lying at his side buried in the dirt and the blood of himself.

Adridge knew that they should've moved on, however the stallion beckoned to them from where he laid. They were guest on his land so it was only polite to do as he asked.

“A fighter?” he muttered as they came to and stood just below him in the dirt. “Or perhaps another warrior who fell behind. You don’t dawn the armor of the Istudians so perhaps the former.” He coughed into his hoof looking past them to the two in the field.

She looked back to them again and quietly and politely asked, “the Istudians did him in, no?”

The stallion let out a tired withered sigh and said, “the Istudians, yes. My son,” he weakly moaned. “I married well you see. An earth pony biding his days with a unicorn. I was blessed to have been so fortunate. Even more so when my first son, my only son, bore a catalyst as well.”

Another fit of coughing all the while the mother continued to mourn refusing to release him, refusing to believe that he could really be gone as she continuously poured her light magic into his wounds hoping that what had already been taken, broken and lost could somehow be given back whole again.

“He grew bravely you see,” the old stallion began again. “He fought against the houses, defended our land, all the while never ceasing to work hard and long through out the blisteringly hot days along side her and me. Me,” he scoffed pointing to himself. “A useless old earth pony. Good for nothing more than tilling the fields and driving the jagged teeth of saws in between the bark of wooden trees.”

The situation was grim, there was nothing much to be said as any attempt at compassion and understanding felt it would only come up short and mediocre. Still Adridge could take solace in the fact that his death was out of her control and only a cause of the wake of conquest the Istudians now proceeded. The same feelings couldn’t be said for the stallion or mother of the brave fighter, the ones who suffered this loss.

While Lindestic silently waited alongside Adridge the stallion continued, “you see there lies true bravery.” He pointed at the two. “Laying dead in the dirt and already forgotten. The son I love and caried for. The one I raised and taught to live. The one who fought for us when I certainly couldn’t. A loss like this way's heavy on me but a pillar, as I am and will be, mustn’t fall as it is the only thing she will have left to fall on. However a pillars only as reliable as the foundation it lays upon and in my state I’m not so certain anymore. It was a good harvest,” he said raising his hoof to a sizable cart loaded with bales of wheat. “A good sum to be sold, but again.” He coughed. “I’m ill and unfit for such a task.” With a tired sigh and a shake of his head he said, “I-I’m not asking for pity, in fact as stubborn as I am I downright refuse but, not for me and instead for her, could I employ thee? From one town to the next, I need your help, please.”

Adridge was caught off guard by his sudden request and wasn’t sure how to answer. Honestly she didn’t have time for any of this, she wanted her cape back among everything else. She needed to find Igneous and talking with a sad mournful father of a fighter wasn’t helping her in succeeding either of the mentioned. It was only when Lindestic tapped her on the shoulder did she turned as he whispered, “if we take the offer we become traders.”

She nodded, “yes traders, but how will that help us or Igneous?”

“If we become traders we can get close to the Istudian armies,” he answered.

It was true. They were behind advancing enemy lines. Every trader who had heard of the news of the conquesting army would have fled, possibly all the way back to the capital and if not then they would have retreated to their families in these dire times. This was an opportunity amidst opposition and even though this father and mother had just suffered a great loss there was nothing else the falconers could do. Taking the offer, if anything else, would benefit them all although nothing would mend the wound inflicted today. This was something even the father knew and understood.

Turning to him she nodded and answered, “We’ll do it.”

The stallion then looked to her, this time, a bit doubtfully and asked, “Forgive me for looking twice but if I may; how old are you?”

Confidently she answered, “Old enough.” With Lindestic following closely behind they began making their way to the cart intent on seeing this deal through.

As they did the stallion decided not to dwell on her comment, instead he sullenly nodded saying, “I can only grace you with twenty percent of the total earnings. Its an honest sacrifice for us.”

“We’re falconers,” she said keeping her pace. “Payment isn’t an issue.”

Forger Frawl
On this day one warriors found himself wandering the streets of the capital as he went about collecting information on every financial entity within the capital. Although he would have preferred to be doing something more involved like guarding around or enforcing the canons he still had a duty to uphold and commands to fulfill.

So with two warriors at his side, a longbow and quiver over his back, a buckler shield and straight sword hanging at his flanks, they walked down streets of the mid to upper regions of the capital on the northern end of the city.

With nothing but a list of addresses in his magical grip they stopped at an alleyway with a sign above that said, “Frawlen Weapon Smith-n-Forgen.” Apparently it was the last one they had to process and nodding to his pears, they ventured in coming to a wooden door at the end. With a hard concise three knocks he backed away and they waited politely.

Within the building there was a sudden jolt, followed by a hefty grunt of exertion. With uneven, stumbling hoofsteps approaching, the warriors backed away slightly out of caution. A heavy thump came upon the door followed by the mumbles of an older figure, “Taffing Door! WHAT!!!” He shouted throwing it open to the armored, waiting guests just.

At first sight they could tell he was very well drunk with bit of a ragged mane as well as some splotched fur textures around his face. He laid his eyes on the warriors and in doing so he seemed to sober up just a bit mumbling, “Oh, the warriors of Istudious. My new overlords, no?”

“I ask of your name,” the first one announced. “Who are you?”

“Who are you?” he argued. “You think me a RaeRay? I wouldn’t let my own mother into this shop without first knowing her name.”

With that parcel of broken logic they concluded that he indeed was very well drunk. “Yoshkir. Your name?” he asked again.

With one final suspiciously doubtful scan he answered, “It says on the sign. My names Frawl.” Moving aside he allowed them to enter as he said, “That's Frawl the weapons, armor, shielding and metal smith. ‘Frawl the Forger’ to be concise.”

Entering in they could see that the building was expansive. Its ground level held an assortment of crates, workbenches, a metal smelting oven, grinding stones weapon racks, weapon prints and general tools to do the job one would expect a forger to do. The floor was mostly lined with stitched smooth cut stone with some harden leather skins having been placed under points of interests around certain machines that would kick up a few sparks.

Looking up their attention was drawn to a high suspended chandelier made up of shields of all makes and colors as well as a diverse collection of swords. However looking at the quality of the ones that hung there one could guess they were the failings of the forger himself turned into something more useful and sentimental.

Closely surrounding the chandelier was a balcony underlined with metal and overlined and mostly made up of wood. There were no visible stars so there must have been a stair well some were and also they noticed that the second level was at ground level with the streets above them. Since they had to enter in through the alleyway they could guess that the true guest entrance was above.

Yoshkir nodded his head taking in the place. “I see you're well practiced in your work.”

“More so than most, however I wouldn’t boast to say all.” He kicked aside some stray metal bars leading them towards the center. Gesturing with a hoof all around, he stated, “well here you have it. Now why are you in my company? Commissions are closed due to the new monarchy.” Taking a discarded glass bottle in his magical grip he mumbled, “It's a good time to be drunk and careless.”

“Greatest of respects to your work,” Yoshkir said as his two companions took the time to idly saunter around eying particular pieces of Frawls work. One that caught the warriors attention was a model of the four legs of a pony. A replica Frawl forged for a particular pegasus stricken by illness in her early childhood causing her to lose her lower four legs. He continued, “...but we are not here to request a weapon. We are here to ask about your work in general.”

He let the bottle down swallowing the last gulps and asked, “Details please? I’m a humble forger but I won’t put forth the effort to infer upon the simple and conciseness of your statement.”

Yoshkir sighed. “Money. How much are you making monthly?” he asked handing him dried printed paper with questioning outputs as well as informational input. “What are your expenses, are you funded by the capital, where does your main source of revenue come from and how is your living?”

Yoshkir handed it off from his magical grip but Frawl hadn't taken it in his letting it drop to the floor. “I’m funded by the castle to afford the supplies as well as custom commodities to accommodate extensive, unique, specialized and exotic orders. The revenue I make comes from the completion of orders and the grants from the castle are reimbursed by me if I find myself at a surplus and un-needy. As for my living, I find myself living rather finely,” he finished. “Thanks for asking.”

Placing the glass down he picked up hammer lying near on an anvil. Pulling on a rod sticking from within the mouth of a burning furnace he salvaged a piece of metal in the rough shape of a face mask, mounted it on the pointed end of the anvil and began hammering it to its preferred curvature.

“Now I may not be taking commissions,” he began as he worked the metal over. “But there is still work to be had. I would appreciate it if you withhold from working me anymore with some formality statement.”

Yoshkirs gaze shifted away as the loudened hammer impacts filled the building. He gased at one of the four walls that held armor of different types, most incomplete, some awaiting parts but setting his eyes on a particularly mounted peace he turned and asked, “How are your relations with falconers?”

The echoing hammer stopped and as all three warriors faced the forger he held the steaming hot faceplate to his face testing out the visors visibility. “Falconers?” he repeated. “I’ve done my part to assist them.” Satisfied in the visors quality he took it in his magical grip and dumped it in a vat of oil. “Not many other forgers are willing to work for a generous cause. Honestly it's a true shame, they deserve more.”

“How many suits do you manufacture for them?”

“None,” he answered. “I do repair and maintenance on eartheneiring suits. Those cogs are complicated,” he said as he withdrew the now cooled hardened visor and placed it on stone made work bench topped with other assorted projects that stretched down the length of the wall. “However yes, I do have control over second party production of the suits.”

“Where are they made?” Yoshkir asked.

He was about to answer when instead he threw his bottle across the room and shouted, “Mind your manners while in my keep!” It shattered against the room near the head of a warrior with his curious hoof on the handle of a door. “There will be no snooping around in my company.” The warrior gave Frawl a strikingly offended sneer but Yoshkir insisted he stayed well tempered. With an annoyed sigh Frawl answered Yoshkir's question saying, “The suits are mainly made in a shack up at safeguard in the regular confinement district. Above ground that is.”

“Well given our brief history with ‘falconers’ it is with word of Princess Quariomy that you command them to stop producing earthenearing suits.”

“Fine,” he mumbled. “As for my funding, will I be at a loss given the new monarch?”

Picking up the previously dropped piece of paper in his magical grip Yoshkir pressed it against Frawls chest and said, “take to the formality and the princess will decide.”

Doing a quick once over the parchemnt he set it aside and said, “I’ll have my apprentice tend to it.”

As Yoshkir waved his hoof signaling for the others to leave with him he took one last look around the place and nodded in approval. “Your work is fine. Perhaps you can adapt and produce armor and weaponry for the Istudian armies. We’ll pay finely it's all the more convincing.”

“Tempting,” he muttered glancing only through the sides of his eyes. “Only tempting.”

“Good day to you.”

“That's an excellent longbow warrior,” he called out just as Yoshkir was the last to leave.

He stopped in the doorway, looked to his longbow and back to Frawl and his sudden compliment. “Yes,” he said. “Nearly scored two fighters with it.”

As Yoshkir disappeared Frawl took another bored and tired breath muttering, “Can only guess,” and the forger went back to work awaiting the return of his apprentice.

The Request
“A pleasant night,” Quariomy sighed as Horace escorted her down the halls of the castle. After the council had been dealt with Quariomy set out to organise tomorrow's event involving the Magnoliven Estoc. With advisors and ponies more acquainted with such a task assisting her every whim it wasn’t long before everything was arranged and done ready to be showcased tomorrow afternoon to audience both near and far beyond the walls.

Not only where the plans set for tomorrow but also most of the days to come with little relief. She needed to forge a more firm image of herself and what better way to do it then with the entertainment of the masses looking on as the battles commenced in the Estoc arena.

The entry fee was almost non existent as it was so low one would think to not charge at all. This was because of the liberated riches of the council, and by this it made every event planned possible and readily available to the masses.

“A productive day indeed,” Horace affirmed. He had held a thought in mind most days and earlier he had asked to speak to Quariomy privately.

For now he could only hope she remembered as he and his loyalty thought it would be exceptionally rude to remind her of his request as he always held in mind one motto, ‘if the princess didn’t care to remember then your problem wasn’t worth a second thought.’ Something he wish didn’t hold true for him, but with each passing step that drew them closer to her bedchamber his hopes were beginning to dwindle significantly.

However the time passed and the distance closed and now here he was at the threshold to her chamber awaiting the command to be off to other duties. “Thank you Horace,” she said with a smile. The same smile she always gave. “The days are long and the duty is hard. You may have your rest, there’s nothing more I ask of you.”

“M-my princess,” he cautiously ventured. She stopped her advancement into the room and slowly withdrew to meet the attention of the general. He wouldn’t ask her or remind her directly of his request to speak to her privately, oh no. instead he asked, “a second thought will you? Are you certain no other thing are required of me?” She nodded but it wasn’t what he wanted. He coughed and through it he silently muttered, “or you?”

It wasn’t very subtle and although she had been looking him in the eyes earlier this time Horace actually felt her gaze. He knew the all too familiar sensation and his firm stance lessened as he knew his motives were found out. “I’m sorry my Princess. I-I shouldn’t have.” he guiltily whispered as he turned away to avoid the shame she would no doubt be giving him.

“Its Anri, isn't it?”

Had she read him or did she remember? It had to be the former but for now Horace could only answer saying, “Yes my Princess. Her precisely.”

“You also wanted to request that you switch positions with Morallis on the advancing frontal lines.” It was more of a statement then a question and a true one at that. He nodded. “You would like to be the first to greet her along with the second wave.” Again he nodded.

“I know I’ve said this before my Princess,” he began. “But as much as my faith goes out to you, I long for her among all else. I can’t lie to you Quariomy ever since the day I met you you’ve only ever told me the truth but what I say here is true too. I love her, I need her but if you will see differently then I’ll let it be and stave off these rough emotions.”

“The days have been long, the months longer?”

“Yes my Princess, it seems like a lifetime ago I was a simple farmer with her at my side.”

The trek across Carridian wasn’t exactly a mountainside hike. There was a reason only three thousand could readily come but as hard as it was, in the end it payed off. Still most warriors had desires, some of which could only be found a wilderness away as was the case with Horace, only now it would be half a wilderness away.

“Please Quariomy. I ask as a-a friend.”

He wasn’t quite sure were his relations stood with Quariomy but he had served faithfully for quite some time. He was honest, transparent and loyal to her and he only ever sought to do what she wanted. However he first came as a general and if it wasn’t friendship that would win her over then it would be his experience.

“If not as a friend then do take into consideration, and I don't mean to boast, but I am better suited to lead an army. I’m more trained, resilient and conditioned.” It was a stretch and he knew it. “If not as a friend then again the leader in you must see the obvious tactical advantage I possess if anything unsavory happens within the lands of Noriphmy.”

“An uprising?” she offered.

“Precisely.” he affirmed.

“It wouldn’t be too far fetched to expect one.” Yes she was doing her best to avoid such a happening but no pony could ever expect one to take kindly to foreign invaders. Rubbing her muzzle with her hoof in thought she looked to Horace standing tall and said, “Horace, as faithful and true as you are you deserve this. As a Princess I say yes, as a friend the answer is most definitely yes but be reminded your duties as a general come first and foremost amongst all else.”

“Yes my princess,” he said doing his best to keep his composure and not become overwhelmed with joy in front of the princess.

A smile also leaked through his muzzle but Quariomy graciously waved it and said, “Send word to Morallis that you will receive the second wave and integrate them into Noriphmy.”

“I will,” he happily nodded. “A Celestial will be made readily fit to deliver. I can leave now, I can catch make it to the front in a month or so.”

“Good luck Horace, the heart of Istudious goes out to you.” Raising her hoof in resolve she chanted, “May the marrow of the bone hold strong and the blood be sanctioned for the years to come. By the bone!”

Raising his hoof he chanted back, “And by the blood!” And with that he swiftly left.

Chapter 6 Stones and Shackles

View Online

A Softer Warmth
“And here you’ll stay,” said the warrior as he left with two taps of his longsword against the iron bars of his cell below the castle. One of many but the only one containing Igneous who laid there with four hooves chained to the ground restricting him from even touching any of the cold stone walls. The night was miserable, it was freezing, it was dark, and it was lonely for the falconer.

The halls echoed with the hoof-steps of a patrolling warrior set to guard but still armored and equipped unlike most guards prior to the takeover. Some other ponies held within their own cells beckoned for conversation from the warrior with the newly endowed title of a keeper, asking as to what had been made of Noriphmy and its capital. One warrior would remark that it had been taken over and the council dismantled. He would then point his sword to the floor and say that below us is where the gelding are made. He would then ask them to silence themselves and behave for the night with no further word.

Behaving wasn’t something Igneous was opposed to and the same could be said for the others as well. Most were ponies arrested during the take over mostly because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time but all assured they would receive due process just and fairly. Igneous doubt that included him.

One by one each and every pony left at the taps of two long swords and one by one they were freed and let go. One by one all night long until Igneous was the only one who remained with the warrior receiving no further word to do otherwise but continue his round walking around in circles always tapping on his bars when he passed by. Most times with a grin of satisfaction.

Igneous never looked, only keeping his muzzle buried between his shackled hoofs as he tolerated the cold and hardness of the floor. It was dark, except for the occasional glowing catalyst of the keeper passing by and it felt very oppressing as a prison rightfully should be.

However what got to Igneous wasn’t the shackles or the constant state of being under surveillance, he had gotten used to that over the months. No, the thing that got to him the most was the loneliness. In all his years he had always had a compatriot at his side. Mace, Kara, Joel, Oxinum, Floritha. They were always there to keep on another company on the long days they baked under the sun as they traveled from one place to the next. Always setting their sights high, always focused on the horizon. He had a place and that place was on the forefront of leadership.

He had lost that, all of it and in the worst way too. Less than a year and already two teams of his had been killed off like no other. Kara burned to death. Mace dragged down into an abyss by Aminus himself. Oxinum killed while on a rescue mission along with Floritha at the mercy of the Istudian armies.

It wasn’t the only thing he lost. It was everything else of what little he owned. His weapons armor and the title of a falconer itself. He no longer slayed monsters, no, he was a prisoner on account of being a Prince. A title he never took advantage of or even acted upon. Instead it was just a commodity he always acknowledge about himself but never truly accepted. Maybe if he did he wouldn’t be here, his kingdom wouldn’t have been stolen from him and he could have been anywhere but here.

No, not anywhere, that was a lie. There was only one place he would rather be. One place, one pony not imprisoned, on the run, killed off or in constant danger. A pony only innocents could properly describe. Navinia, the one and only mare Igneous truly cared for above all else.

The fact that she was here in the capital no doubt safe at home just beyond those bars in a place he knew and could see made the feeling of separation hurt all the more. If he wasn’t chained he could have walked there, down the streets, around a few corners and there she would be in a beautiful dress and full of conversation and smiles.

He would have taken her to the gardens again, taken her to see another play at the Magnoliven Estoc, watched the moon in the night hours as it rose above and fell below the mountains and just be with her as much as he could.

But he wasn’t chain-less, wasn’t free to roam around. He was imprisoned for being a prince. A title he never cared for or acted upon until that day he met the princess of Istudious. All he could do now was play the part of a prisoner. Be obedient, listen to orders and not resist. He’d done well so far and because of it he wasn’t dead yet by the grace of Quariomy.

He violently shivered and his shackles loudly clinked as a result. His cell was still cold, the shackles still hard and the night barely an hour old after the sun fell behind the mountains. He was physically drained, emotionally too. Now all he could do was sleep. Sleep seemed to be the only thing he was good for other than being the princesses little pet.

So as his eyes heavily fell shut he began to drift off, he began to dream. In this dream the chains vanished and the stone floors turned soft at his touch and suddenly he wasn’t falling asleep in a stone cold cell but instead waking up in a bed. The same bed he found himself in during the night he fought an assassin.

Igneous fell out of the bed with a thump and remembered how he got here. Navinia had let him stay the night and looking out the barred window he found that the sun had not yet fully risen but was still hiding somewhere beyond the horizon.

He picked himself up and shook off the rude awakening. He wasn’t quiet used to the feeling of laying on anything softer than grass. Most nights he just fell asleep in the dirt if he or his team were not in a village, and if they are the floor was often times was a better alternative than the cheap old mattresses they provided.

Waking up in this bed, although he technically fell out, seemed like a luxury. A luxury but he was still a guest so he quickly reorganized the sheets, tucking them in nicely the way he found them yesterday night when Navinia showed him in.

With one final pat he was done, he didn’t even need his magic as it was such a basic chore. Looking satisfied with his work he looked to the foot of the bed and found his armor and equipment laying there just where he left them. He had nothing else to wear and in this early hour he didn’t want to disturb Navinia.

His mind began to wonder and slowly walking up to them he took a seat nearby and picked up his chest plate held together by mail and simply stared at it while it clinked and swayed in his magical grip. He examined the fine work of Frawl seeing the well crafted plates and excellently mended curves of the armor. He placed a hoof on the center feeling the divots of the fire emblem that was emblazoned upon it.

Nearly every pony knew the meaning the symbol of fire held: It was the strength and will of Noriphmy that every pony supposedly was apart of, but what did it mean when only a few were willing to defend it? What did it mean to dawn the symbol of this nation and to fight for the ponies within? To kill bandits, assassins and occasionally monsters? To be told to run from village to village never to stop for rest hardly, being recompensed for your efforts only to be blamed for your downfalls and failing?

He looked to his swords that laid against the bed frame and thought of the many kills they had scored. A sword for hire with a team expected to be put to use, putting there lives in danger. The lives of which seemed exceptional but were acted towards as being expendable.

What pony truly knew what it was like to lose a friend? To see them injured and scared many, many miles from home. To see them die and be gone, leaving you with nothing more to do but to mourn and cry only to return once again to see too few or none at all do the same? Instead they find themselves being expected to run and help the next village with their dilemma sorting out land agreements and keeping the peace between two parties who couldn’t even fend for themselves.

Why did he fight? A question he found himself asking more and more over the years but more recently these months. “Why do I fight?” A question he found answers for throughout the past few days as poor as they were.

‘Because it's the right thing to do,’ That was about the worst and a place holder for most, he felt.

‘Because Noriphmy is in danger,’ was another but one he felt no genuine attachment to.

‘I care for the ponies.’ It was a lie.

‘No true pony deserved to die.’ There are no true ponies.

‘It is my duty.’ No pony held him to it. It was expected.

‘I fight for the thrill.’ He fought vapidly.

He knew he fought for something, he just knew it was there. There had to be a reason he would suit up each day and run off into danger knowing full well he or any pony else of his might die. If he had no purpose then he wasn’t living, he wasn’t developing, growing or learning. He was only existing. “Why do I fight?” he asked himself aloud.

He forgot where he was, he forgot the guest he was and as he sat there clutching his armor he heard a voice say his name pulling him back to the present and out of his trembling state. Taking in a breath he looked to see Navinia in the doorway poking her head in. “Are you alright Igneous?”

He hadn't expected her to be up so early, he was caught a little off guard. Carefully he placed his armor down again and said, “I’m sorry, I had nothing to wear.”

She smiled as the rest of her body hid behind the door. “Close your eyes,” she nearly sang. He gave her a look of unsurety but she reassured him saying, “it's in good nature. Please?” With a nod he did so and as he sat there blinded he heard the door open completely followed by the slowly approaching steps of Navinia.

“What is this?” he cautiously asked.

“Shh,” she said as she placed something cold around his neck letting it rest on his shoulders. Stepping back she nodded to herself and said, “okay. You can open them now Igneous.”

When he did the first thing Igneous was Navinia and the dress she wore. It nearly took his breath away and he immediately took in the details of how it was darker in aspect but still seemed colorful. It was lined with golden strips of fabric throughout giving it a nice shine around the edges that could easily catch any ponies eye, especially Igneous’. Her mane was pulled back and neatly laid down to the left side of her neck and her tail was straitened and untouched.

Igneous had to complement her. Finding his voice he said, “Navinia, you look… beautiful.”

“No, no,” she said kindly. “Look at yourself.” Looking down he found that he was now wearing the emblazoned collar he lost the night of the attack. He held it in his hoof and Navinia was quick to explain, “You accidentally left it here when they took you to the medical ward.”

Yes it was appropriate for the audience of the capital but he felt sorely under dressed just standing next to Navinia. Even still he couldn’t help but express his appreciation, “thank you Navinia honestly, but I feel my attire is insufficient compared to you.”

“Yes, to others it may seem,” she admitted taking a step closer then taking him around the neck in a playful hug. “But it's perfect to me Igneous.”

“Oh? Navinia,” he said being taken by surprise as she almost knocked him over. He was only able to stay up write as he wrapped a hoof around steadying the both of them but as he did Navinia saw deep cut scar in his fourleg that laid around her neck.

Taking it in her hoof and feeling the indent it held she asked, “Igneous, what is this?”

“The scar that assassin inflicted upon me.”

She immediately remembered the conversation they had hours before and how he said he purged every scar because he feared intimidation. She continued to carefully caress it a bit and asked, “You hadn't purged it?”

“It's not the only one,” he said tapping his snout. Looking closer she faintly saw three little streaks going down the length of it and seeing the look of recognition Igneous said, “I wanted to remember Navinia. Just like you suggested.”

“You kept it for me?”

“Of course, only for you Navinia,” he said.

She almost knocked him over with another hug but he kept his balance again and managed to ask, “What will we be doing today?" It came out a bit strained but when she let up he suggested in an evenly caring voice, "Another walk around the streets or gardens, or will we be eating together?”

“We can eat here,” she suggested as she let him go. “Afterwards we can visit the Estoc arena to see a few plays...”

Oh yes, the Estoc arena wasn’t just for gruesome events but it also hosted a far amount community friendly plays and performances topped with exotic costumes and talented, dramatic actors for the crowed to entertain themselves with. Often times they did historical plays retelling the events of past Carridian before Aminus the Black dragon. Other times they did fictional tales about love, war, life and all other assorted life lived topics as well as fantasy.

Most considered it a recreational place when not hosting hundred wolf slaughters or the event of the Embers putting tens or even hundreds of prisoners against one another in a dramatic, true to life, mortal, reenactment of Magnoliven himself until one was victorious after a season of combat. However unlike Magnoliven the victors often times were unicorns and not Earthponies like Magnoliven himself.

Navinia fiddled with her mane pulling her hoof through it as she said, “I’m not quite ready to leave just yet however.”

“Why?” Igneous asked. “You already look perfect.”

“I know but,” she nervously began as she continued to stroke her mane. “I haven’t had any pony braid my hair,” she said looking up to him. “Hooves don’t necessarily work well. Can you?” she shyly asked. “Please?”

It was something about her that could easily soften him to his very heart. “Of course I could,” he nodded. Navinia happily smiled and led him out from the guest bedroom, Igneous, already having forgotten about the armor and the dilemma associated with it.

Now he hadn't quite done braids before but remembering how Adridge would do hers every morning before she set out, he actually found it was a quite simple pattern: Separate into three and place one over the other and repeat. It was something he found oddly relaxing as they sat in the fore room with the incomplete armor set Igneous stole from that night. Its sword was laid against the podium and the scabbard laid there in two pieces. The gauntlets had been mounted although the one Igneous defended himself with was immensely cracked and broken. Also the hole in the wall Igneous made when he charged the assassin down. It was covered with blankets and no doubt hole just beyond that was too.

He did his best not to acknowledge it but Navinia could tell what he was getting at and before he could say sorry she said, “There's no need to apologize. You saved my life.” It was probably because he spent so much time apologizing the night before, that could have been a factor.

Continuing to braid, one over the other, he pondered over that last remark. ‘You saved my life,’ she had said. It may have been what she thought but Igneous had heard the assassin explicitly say, ‘You are my target, not Navinia.’ Which honestly was the other way around.

He sighed. The council seemed to want him dead but there was honestly nothing he could do about it. They were noblemen, they owned just about everything in the public's eye and putting them down would only do more harm than good. Most ponies knew of their corruptness and the lies they fed, but every pony knew it was fake that everything they said was contrived.

What could they do? Object? That seemed to be about it but there was no system, only power. What is Maces father doing? How can he convince the council to bend and adhere to their demands of border expansion and rural development? He was just an earth pony. An earth pony against a council of mostly Celestials and Unicorns. He was battleborn not politically ready, but then again he briefly led this nation. Still is actually.

Igneous shook his head, it wasn’t right to doubt against hope especially when proven right multiple times when he followed through. If Mace's father could pull through before then it's only in Igneous’ best interest to think good of him and work along with any of his demands. Right now that meant he needed Igneous to lay low and stay alert while he takes care of the rest.

If staying low meant acting like a civilized pony then Igneous sure would give it a try, especially if Navinia was the one involuntarily showing him the ropes. He would forgo the armor and swords for this day and hopefully, if he’s attacked, the royal guard might be competent enough to step in and save him because he sure wasn't confident in his dark magic to help himself. Especially after failing to summon his shortsword the night of the attack.

With one final tug and a gentle pull Igneous tied off the rest and laid the braid neatly against her neck just the way she had it before when it laid straight. He had very much enjoyed doing this favor, braiding her hair, catching her glancing back at him with smiles and quickly looking away. It was just something about her subtle playful nature that really did a number on him, and it wasn’t a bad number either.

They then had breakfast and this time it was cereal grain, reinforced and with added fruits. A whole meal the box had boasted but Igneous didn’t really consider it whole unless there was some trace of meat which obviously had none, but-he-didn’t-want-to-think-too-much-about-breakfast-cereal, no. He wanted to think about Navinia, he wanted to talk more about her, get to know her better and she was there right in front him playfully smiling and constantly talking.

For Igneous it was the talking. They way she always found something to chatter on about when, to Igneous, it seemed there was nothing else to go off of. She always talked about her days and the simple, trivial things she did.

Her stories of daily life weren’t about hunting bandits or monsters. Weren’t about sword preference or complicated tactical insertions but instead they were simple, relatable and basic to understand for the falconer. (Relatable being used more loosely than the others.) It was more relaxing and less mind numbing when it came to the constant madness of combat and the organised chaos that ensued, insuring one of two parties doesn’t live.

No, listening to her ramble on about shopkeepers, dresses, mutual friends and her little adventures she took within the streets of Noriphmy was fun. He actually hoped that she didn’t stop talking because if she did then that meant Igneous would have to say something for himself which he didn’t know if he could do. He wasn’t very social, he never lingered in a tavern and never stayed too long to be noticed. The only ones he ever spoke to were his team mates and often time the conversation wasn’t about him. It was only about the task at hand, the beast to be hunted and the bandits to be dealt with. Combat and swords, that's all that came to mind when he thought about it. Swords and armor, shields and fortitude, chaos and all.

He shook away the thoughts and continued to listen. That's all he wanted was to spend some time with a genuine pony such as Navinia.

After some time and their little breakfast was over with Navinia glanced outside. “Are you ready Igneous?” she asked. It seemed it was time to go, the Estoc plays wouldn’t wait for them.

He nodded his head, “Of course.” This time Igneous led Navinia to the front door, used his magic to hold it open for her Navinia playfully swiped Igneous’ muzzle with her wing. She playfuly giggled as Igneous chuckled too. Together they took to the streets walking closely by each other as other ponies occupied the walkways as well. Igneous didn’t care how underdressed he actually was as all he needed to feel complete was her.

***

Embers Bygoned

Just as quickly as it had happened Igneous found himself being rudely shaken awake by a warrior undoing his shackles. Not only one but he was also accompanied by five more warriors. All armored and equipped to handle an unarmed magic bound unicorn such as Igneous himself.

Fully coming to his senses Igneous muttered, “What-Where are you taking me?” Looking outside he could see the sun had already risen with light reflecting off the mountains blanketed in snow, but not only that but even on the elevation he was at he could hear the loud ambiance of an excited audience far below. They could have been putting on a play in the Estoc Arena but if Igneous recalled correctly they didn’t do too many plays during the winter season.

Another click and the last of the cuffs fell free. Igneous slowly stood up and the warriors positioned themselves around him while one said, “don’t speak. Follow and no sly business.”

It wasn’t as if Igneous intended to try anything anyway as he was outnumbered and not even weaponized.

Marching Igneous down the halls they left the portion of halls that held cells for others like Igneous. They led him down deeper into a winding stair well carved from the mountain running down wards. Igneous remembered this passage beneath the castle lead directly to the Estoc Arena itself. Not only that but the exclusive podium made for the king that protruded from the wall and sat high above all others in the stands of the arena and just before it stood Quariomy herself as she consulted a few operators over the events that were soon to transpire.

She turned her head and her gaze fell upon Igneous and his band of escorts. With a smile she waved off the operators and walked over to him, fully armored, and cheered, “Igneous, my Prince. How have you been keeping?”

Igneous shook his head. What kind of act was she trying to put on? Was he simply trying to toy with his emotions or give him a false sense of security? Whatever it was he answered with his head low, “no, not exactly my Princess.” It was almost a whisper.

“Might you enjoy the show then,” she asked leading him towards the bright opening were the king sat. “It's a fascinating set up,” she began a bit enthused. “A bit Istudian history to educate the citizens of Noriphmy. What do you think?”

He shook his head with passive disregard and answered, “it sounds interesting my Princess.”

With a satisfied grin she looked to Igneous and set a hoof on his shoulder. “I’m glad to have your approval.” As he looked her in the eyes his attention was drawn away when movement in his peripheral vision produced two scabbards. He recognized the make of the sheaths and its fine quality. The hilts of the swords made it all the more apparent just whose they were. Quariomy then said, “the crowd expects a grand performance. Do not disappoint me my Prince.” With a clink from his Catylist Quariomy removed the binding ring and Igneous again felt his magic.

Before he could respond he was roughly shoved away by the same warriors set to guard him. They pushed him down another corridor while Quariomy took a stand before the stadium of Estoc and the occupants thereof. She began to speak to the crowed who swiftly silenced themselves. As she did ambient drums began to play starting slow and quietly and only continuing to take their time building up the anticipation.

From where Igneous had been taken he couldn’t hear her words precisely only that she spoke bold, proud and with exceptional vigor no doubt enthralling the crowd in the events to come. From what he had glimpsed Igneous could see that the massive stadium and been nearly filled, maybe half empty it was only a glimpse.

Down more corridors until he reached what he knew as the underlayer of the Arena. Here the floor echoed with the sounds of frantic hoof steps all around as operators, as well as a few other warriors, prepped the arena from below ground. The sound of rushing water could also be heard and too echoed all around. If the operators wanted to they could have flooded the Estoc Arena, could open trap doors and raised obstacles as well as release a few champions such as wolves or bears if they were in stock. Champions could also be pony or even monsters greater, lesser or even avian if it hadn't been crippled.

In Igneous’ case the warriors threw him into a cage with nothing more but light leather chest made armor and his swords Quariomy had presented earlier. However to call it a cage would be a little misleading as it was actually a barred elevator hoisted by pulleys and the water canals that ran below. With a jolt the cage suddenly lifted into the air and into the shaft above and in no time at all Igneous was at the Arena Level of the Estoc itself.

It was able to raise on its own because the river below pushed massive turbine that in turn rotated a myriad of different gears both big and small. It was another advantage of living on top of a massive river bed and that was you could easily harness it for mechanical energy or in this case to raise a simple elevator through the use of chains, pulleys and gears.

With a jolt and a click the cage locked into place as it leveled off. In front was the dirt and dust of the arena along with the bright sunlight that flooded inwards and invaded Igneous’ sight. Behind him was another snaking corridor that stretched a quarter of the way around the perimeter of the Estoc arena floor. Here a few more warriors and operators stood by and around pulley systems strung together by chains. From where he was he could see four separate systems all together. A few other operators also scurred about accomplishing minute task in preparation for the event.

With ease Igneous picked himself up from the floor of his holding containment. He gathered his equipment and examined the armor that was provided to him. It was a simple piece of hardened leather, fitted and meant to protect the chest area of a pony. It was basic in design but it no doubt did its part when it came to protection. He nodded in approval and strapped the laces together fastening it to his body.

He then gathered his scabbard and his examined them. No cuts, just like he left them and with leather still instilled with its fine design. It was when he cracked open the blades to check their conditions did he hear his name being called from a faintly familiar voice. Looking to his left he cautiously ventured, “Rechon?”

“It is you,” he said with relief.

Looking over Igneous could see Rechon too was held within a cage the same size as Igneous’ and already locked into place. He noticed Rechon still donned his earthenearing suit and this sparked one of many question, “What happened? How did you get captured, you should have gone.”

He coughed and answered, “We uh… became imprisoned. Well… Imprisoned may not be the correct term for us.”

“What do you mean?”

“There was nothing left for us to do, nowhere to go and no pony would harbor us so we surrendered on the condition that we could keep our equipment. Quariomy personally approved.”

“Wait,” Igneous stammered. “You and who else?”

“Nimbus,” he answered gesturing his head near the gate leading to the arena.

Igneous had often times forgotten but that could have been because she became well adjusted. Her right wing had been savagely maimed and as a result was completely removed. In its place was an earthenear crossbow along with the chest armor that came with and operated it properly. Her ear had the leather bit and her muzzle was strapped to wires that ran along her body down to the intricate device that steared the crossbow in the direction she was looking.

Her left wing was reinforced with the bladed feathers that a Falconer Celestial typically wore while tucked beneath that wing harbored a fixed weapons tube one normally found on poor earth pony fighters. She also donned a single retractable, bladed gauntlet on her right hoof which Igneous remembered was to compensate for long range of the crossbow.

Igneous knew Nimbus was a stoic character, hardly talking and only giving necessary input while also contributing greatly to her team. Her broken former team of Kohligan, Hilliph and Mace’s father that seemed to be no more.

This coupled with the loss of her sister made Nimbus very withdrawn but Igneous could help but empathise with her and keep his distance for the better of both of them. He could not have felt any worse then her as Igneous was the one responsible for Kara’s well being. He wanted to blame himself and even now he still did but Nimbus had consoled him saying it wasn’t his fault and that some tragedies are inevitable and that was why Kara and Nimbus had always left each other on happy, lovingly, good terms.

Something Igneous and Kohligan seemed impossible to achieve.

Keeping his voice low Igneous asked, “Rechon, how have they been treating you? The warriors.”

“They haven't hurt us,” he answered in an equally low voice as the warriors stood far off to the opposite end of the hallway. “Their true to their word Igneous, wouldn’t you know?”

He nodded and looked out to the arena. Quariomy was continuing to talk saying something about liberation and unity. She referred to the days before Aminus and the few afterwards but after having already missed a large portion neither Rechon or Igneous knew what she was on about.

“Igneous,” Rechon began. “Do you know what they’re going to do with us?”

Strapping the scabbard to across his body, one on each side, he answered, “By my guess, today we are champions of the Estoc Arena.”

Quariomy was just finishing, Igneous could tell by the way she now spoke. The drums continued to beat, something Igneous knew was intended to create ambiance just before the gates were lifted and the event began with thrashing weapons and furious combat.

There was a knock on the bars of their cells and Igneous looked to see a standardly equipped warrior say, “listen now. When the drums end their beat, the gates will be raised.” Both Igneous and Rechon nodded in contempt but only Nimbus continued to look on. “You are expected to fight the opposition whatever that may be, animals, beasts or ponies.” That was standard and each of them already knew it although monsters were typically reserved for the very last event and if Igneous recalled correctly there wasn’t one in stock. The warrior continued, “you will not return or linger in the cage during the fight. Any attempted to do so will result in death by order and command of the Princess.” Giving them all a quick glance he asked, “have I made myself clear.”

“Very,” Igneous half heartedly answered.

Suddenly both Rechon, Nimbus and Igneous ears perked up as silence took hold the arena. The warrior cocked his head with a giddy smile and gestured with his head to the warriors behind while saying, “Raise the gates.”

There were four simultaneous knocks as operators and warriors pushed forward a levar on the pulley lock system dropping the underground dead gear into place. The chains strickened and the gates began to rise on command.

Nimbus back away slowly without a word and Rechon found himself at her side ready to combat whatever came next. With his scabbard strapped at his side he cracked a blade drawing it completely out and was the first to step into the arena.

None of them had been listening to Quariomy as she gave her speech. It could have been about politics or whatever she thought was necessary to win over the public but when all was said and done and the fight was about to start, the only thing each and every one of those falconers heard her say was, “Citizens of Noriphmy… The true nature of Falconers.”

Igneous let out a prolonged sighed. “Propaganda. Perfect.”

Chapter 7 The Next Re-Quest

View Online

Barters and Thieves
It had been almost two days since they accepted the trade offer and they had steadily traveled far with almost no incident. They still hadn’t caught up to the armies but they had been told by frantic passing strangers that they were well ahead of them.

This didn’t project very well for Adridge’s plan to trade wheat with them because at any rate the crops would begin to rot and ferment. Either the armies needed a setback or Adridge and Lindestic needed a leg up on their progress; preferably a set back on the armies part.

As they traveled Adridge found it easier to keep her curved sword strapped beneath the wooden pole that separated the two as they pulled along. It was a bit discreet but honestly it made strapping Adridge into position much easier.

“We have a plan yet?” Lindestic asked.

She shook her head as they both continued to pull. “Not quite.”

It was something they both constantly thought about nearly every waking moment. How would they find Igneous? How would she get her cape? A falconer was always taught to think ahead but how could anypony planned for this?

To accomplish anything would require more than what they had and the only things they had were a flightless celestial, a cart full of wheat, a curved sword and a unicorn. No armor no falconers this side of their advancement and a long way to travel. What were the armies numbers? A few hundred? A thousand?

She sighed from physical and mental exhaustion as they peaked over a ridge. Lindestic raised his head looking ahead said, “eh! Keep your head up, we got a village up ahead.”

“Any armies,” she asked only to answer her own question a moment later.

“No.”

To her relief the village had not been completely destroyed or vacated as Ponies frantically moved across the streets while others barred themselves inside to hide themselves away from the brawls that took place in the street between commoners, shopkeepers and traders.

They both stopped in their tracks as they also saw angry groups of ponies tear down wagons and carts looking for anything they could horde away for the next few days. Food, water, cloth, metals and anything else of value thinking that stealing and destroying their own communities will in some way make it easier for them in the long run.

The first thing they thought about was their own cart and Adridge asked, “is it really worth it to stop here?” True a falconer was expected to keep the peace but Falconers had always originally been intended to fight monsters and nothing more. A tradition most were willing to forgo but a nice excuse to pass up the mayhem that currently ensued. There were greater stakes which petty crime and civilised unrest simply didn’t amount to.

She stepped back pulling the cart with her. “Common,” she urged Lindestic. “We can’t stop here.”

Lindestic didn’t object although he did linger a short moment before giving in and following through with Adridge. However looking onward down the path they intended to take they soon found it would not be so easily ventured.

Not far off in the did they see an entourage of five ponies easily approaching them with a confident and smug-ish stride as they two unicorns swung blades around lazily swiping at the grass just off to either side. They were dressed in mostly leather armor but still retained pieces of metal armor around kea parts of their bodies like on the left side of their necks and left four legs. Obviously they expected a right sided wielder which Adridge couldn’t say she wasn’t but it wasn’t as if she wasn’t trained to handle left defensive armor or just any armor at that.

The next three were earth ponies who were admittedly more armored around the necks and shoulder areas while wielding a fixed weapon on their right sides.

Adridge and Lindestic immediately recognised them as they were the entourage of ponies they passed a few miles back. They seemed docile enough at the time and Adridge even asked them the distance to the next village which they gladly answered. However she could tell that their willingness to comply was only a ruse as she caught their not-too-subtle hungering glances they casted to their cart of wheat they pulled.

“Get ready,” she commanded to Lingestic as she began to magically unstrap only him. They hadn’t trusted the group for a moment after they passed them by and as a Falconer Adridge reminded herself to always be prepared and to have a plan.

One now they intended to enact.

With the group being just moments away Lindestic put on his act as he slowly stepped away from the cart with on hoof up. “Alright, alright,” he admitted pretending to already surrender while Adridge continued to struggle with her straps. “It’s yours just don’t hurt us.”

The unicorn on left smiled and hung his sword on his shoulder saying, “it's good to see you cooperate.” Pointing with the blade he barked, “take the cart.”

“Lindestic I can’t get it,” Adridge said loud enough for the others to hear her artificially worried voice. “I-its stuck.” She was sure they hadn't noticed the curved sword strapped to the wooden post between them as it was almost plainly hidden in sight but looked to be apart of its infrastructure of the cart anyways.

As the three earth-ponies began to gather around Adridge with their blades still not drawn the second unicorn looked to Lindestic standing by and asked, “what's that you dawn?”

As the first unicorn joined the second an earthpony looked to him and said, “Looks like peganearing armor and equipment.”

“I hadn't seen one in years,” he muttered before he shot a hostile glance towards the falconer. He raised his sword in warning and said, “what's your motive? You intend to fight.”

“I’m retired,” he answered before the unicorn could say otherwise. He flashed his burned wing flying it out for them to see and said, “I’m too injured I won’t fight. I can’t fly.”

A few of them nodded.

The first unicorn tauntingly thrusted his sword and said, “dequip it. All of it.”

Lindestic took a step back and said, “I can’t without a unicorn.” He looked between the two standing in front of him and tapped his armor, “it locks from within.”

Meanwhile Adridge let out a frustrated cry as she jolted the whole carriage as she pretended to struggle in yanking the straps free. Two of the earth ponies were looking to Lindestic and his impressive, rare arrangements while only one kept an eye on Adridge still oblivious to the hidden curved sword.

Seeing as she couldn’t perform the task the second unicorn growled in frustration already annoyed with their inability to help themselves as he approached Lindestic. “Nothing funny will come of you,” he said as he slowly raised his sword to Lindestics neck making sure he didn’t take it as a life threatening advancement but instead a warning. “Or I will kill you.”

“I-I don’t doubt it,” he said as he raised his head away from the blade letting him examine the armor to see if he could find some switch or lock to undo the armor for Lindestic.

“Lindestic,” Adridge cried as she seemed to give up on the unrelenting belts. “It won't come free.”

“Just cut the belt!” the first unicorn shouted in frustration and impatiens causing the two distracted earthponies to turn back to Adridge. “We can replace once we get back to th…”

Lindestic pounded on his chest plate and quickly raised his hoof just as the gauntlets around it protruded three blades, each of which struck the second unicorn in the chest.

They all turned to face him as the unicorn let out a horrific death cry just before Lindestic withdrew and slashed him across the neck silencing him for good.

The first then raised his sword to Lindestic as the three earthponies looked away from Adridge and to the new threat as intended. Just then the belts around Adridge easily fell free and withdrawing her sword she arced it upward out of the scabbard striking the closest earthpony across his barrel ending with the blade pointing skywards. Following through without a pause she pulled the blade down on the second striking him across the nape of his neck. Before the third could react or even turn around she circled the blade back around and brought it down against his skull burying the blade well over halfway in killing him instantly.

The unicorn’s attention faltered as he looked to his easily obliterated earthponys but that was all it took for Lindestic to dash up to him and swiftly bury his clawed gauntlets in his chest just like he did the first. The force of the impact knocked the unicorn onto his haunches causing screaming in agony as one could imagine, but as quickly as the first attack was he too was silenced as Lindestic angled his hoof downward while bending upwards, and in a second his chest tore open spilling out bone, organs and blood that Lindestic literally ripped out of him. He then drug the claws along his face before driving them in completely more than assuring his fate.

With hardly a breath of fatigue he pushed off with his hoof letting him fall to the floor dead just as Adridge kicked the limp corpse of the third earthpony off her sword.

She let herself breath for a moment before making her next decision. Lindestic seemed dodge headed as he kept looking around to see if another party of attackers happened to come by.

They were alone as far as they could tell and so she took stock: Five dead ponies and nothing more. The cart was still in good condition as well as its cargo.

She wiped the bloodied blade on the side of the wooden carriage before sheathing it away beneath the post. No doubt if they had known she had a sword they would have caught them by surprise attacking while they weren’t looking. Perhaps if she was still armored they wouldn’t have even bothered but whatever the matter it happened and it was a only a shame they died.

Adridge then looked to Lindestic then back to the corpses. With a gesture of her head she said, “common lindestic. Lets move them.” He nodded and then began rolling the unicorns off to the wayside as Adridge lifted one earthpony at a time by the armor they wore and dispensed them much the same.

The work was quick without a word between the two but when Adridge collected the last earthpony and dropped them in the pile she heard a gasp, faint as it was.

“Lindestic,” she called quietly as she knelt down next to the earthpony.

She recognized the dying pony as the first one she attacked, hitting him with an upper swipe of her sword. However unlike the other two who received mortal blows to either the neck or head the same couldn’t be said for this one as none of his vital organs had been too seriously damaged to grant him a swift death. However even as he laid there his hooves clutched his berral as he tried his very best to hold his lower half together. Even his eyes mimicked that of a dead pony staring off into nothing but the vast void of eternity.

With barely a whisper Adridge heard him say, “I-it hurts.”

“Who are you,” she asked in a soft voice as Lindestic slowly approached.

He only shook his head and uttered, “I, stole something.” The blood that was gathering was significant and at this point one could easily say he was already dead.

“What?” she asked.

His hoofed raised slightly then fell on his side as he tapped the barrel of his fixed weapon. “Village, le-dar.”

With one thrust of his hoof Lindestic drove the clawed gauntlets through the skull of the dying pony putting him out for good. Adridge fell back on her haunches surprised, not by Lindestic’s action because that's what she had expected him to do, but the final words in which the pony spoke.

He stole something and wanted it returned and in his final moments he wanted to rid the guilt he held within weather it be during this life or the next. He wanted it returned but what had it been? The fixed weapon!

Looking to it Adridge noticed its higher quality make and design with metal leaflets stringing its way around the tube all the way to the opening where it rimmed off with a brass ring. It was much better quality than anything the others had wore and definitely wasn’t something any of them could afford but Adridge was conflicted with this request.

Why should she owe this criminal something when they had something much more important to be doing? How dare he even ask something like this after just having tried to steal from her? No, she didn’t have to do it, all she had to do was walk away take the cart and be gone from this mess but she didn’t. She lingered and stayed falling to thought and internal confliction.

“Adridge?”

She shook her head an enacting her magic she unstrapped her sword from the cart and belted it to her body. “Stay here and watch the cart Lindestic,” she said moving over to the earthpony.

“Adridge, what are you doing?” he asked. “You don’t owe him anything.”

Unstrapping the fixed and mechanical ear switch from the earth pony she wrapped it nicely together and tucked it away inside one of the reserved loops her scabbard provided. Turning to the Village she answered, “I’m no stranger to redeeming dead criminals Lindestic.” Patting the stallion on the shoulder she said, “I’ll be back very soon, I’m sure you can keep watch.”

He wanted to object but he already knew the nature of Adridge and that sometimes her determination couldn’t be reasoned with. She wanted to do this criminal good, it was the right thing to do and he knew he had no right to deny her that. “I’ll come get you if anything falls out of my control.”

With a parting nod she walked up the embankment of the road and disappeared over the ridge intending to return the item to its rightful owner.

Elitists

***

Igneous would have thought more ponies would have been delighted with entertainment put on by the public but it seemed he was wrong. The entrance to the Estoc Arena was open funneling in small groups of ponies in as they paid but if one compared it to the days they put on live, bloodied, gruesome events then the gathering would have seemed mediocre.

He wondered… “Do ponies here like plays?” he openly asked Navinia as they approached the arena from the south avoiding the market district and its brod two lained, sub-crowded roads that led directly to it.

She hummed to herself before answering, “not as much as I feel they should be appreciated.” Flicking her head to adjust her braids she added, “they’re more enticed by live combat you see? Wolves and champions, swords and shield, bears and all.”

“Criminals too,” he offered which they both agreed on. They fell silent for the moment which Igneous didn’t really much enjoy since he wanted her to talk more but as they became the next in line to pay the estoc operator for entry Igneous thought he might start the conversation this time. So he politely asked, “So… what’s the play about?” Had she already said before? She may have already said before.

She answered, “the prehistory of Noriphmy, the first war, the great rising and possibly the magic era with Aminus and all.”

With events like that Igneous guessed this show would be lasting well into and past the afternoon but of course that depended on the quality actors and which historical events they were specifically going to cover over others that they would simply gloss over.

As Igneous handed the operator the money Navinia had allotted Igneous to make the transaction easier she continued by saying, “Personally I fascinated with the magic era. A time when majins desecrated the lands with unbound and unchecked destructive magic. Could you imagine the chaos, the fear the ponies must have felt when they saw entire armies fall to a single magical beast? Only when they lost all hope the Hexers came with eyes alight with a white flame slaying them with whipped swords and chained blades it must have been fascinating Igneous I tell you. Oh, and don’t even get me started with Aminus the colossal black dragon, could you imagine?! A huge black shadow descending over the land, one that marked the end of a constant and the beginning of the conclusion… but it wasn’t Igneous-”

-She continued to talk for awhile, mostly about the Aminus and the wonder of a dragon he was as Igneous continued to listen. He followed her through the inner walls of the estoc arena until they reached their portions of the stands that laid just beyond the threshold out of the building and into the seats.

Meanwhile she continued to bounce back from story told, to story told of that not so long ago era of Carridian, talking about sightings of Hexers and the miracles they performed and all. He enjoyed it for the most part as it was probably the most he heard anypony talk about the magical era in a while.

However as they were nearing the archway to the stands she stopped talking and tugged on Igneous’ coat saying, “oh it seems Dreahioullen here too.” She the gasped splaying her wings excitedly as she exclaimed, “she’s got a new stallion at her side! Oh, Igneous please just wait here one moment I need to go talk to her.”

He said it was alright but she was already well on her way over to them before he could even say anything. The mare wore an extravagant dress(which Igneous wouldn’t say, would never admit and did not think was quite as amazing looking as Navinia's) as well as the stallion who was fully suited.

From here he stood with all the other ponies walking about, he saw her great them and begin to talk like she normally did. She met the stallion and he gave her his compliments and then she seemed to pointed Igneous out. Somehow he happened came up in the conversation but from the look the couple gave him he could immediately tell they didn’t approve. Could have been his looks or the fact that he wasn’t as well classed as they were.

He didn’t care but he wasn’t going have them be proven right so he stiffened up his neck and raised his chin tall and proud as he stood mightily alone. The stallion seemed to ease up his glare a bit but there was still some unwarranted prejudice he held against Igneous and the stallions cockeyed stare began to anger him.

This stallion seemed so mighty but Igneous could easily infer that he hadn't busted his buck working for an honest living. It was something in his eyes and the eyes of others who gave him odd looks. It was the look that separated the wealthy from the humble as nearly every pony born into wealth, to themselves, seemed superior like it was their right and privilege, while other who made an honest living and worked their way into great wealth held a softer more empathetic look.

Of these ponies with softer looks he only knew of two. Frawl who used to work as a smith near the outer villages and another... Navinia. Although according to her she never worked a day in her life, but it was the way she seemed to treat others that stood out to him. She was always patient and kind, never of the negative alternatives and she wasn’t materialistic when it came to daily life unlike most he had seen who decorated themselves in so much gold it made him Igneous sick.

It reminded him of the council and how nauseous he felt around them and their sparkly jewelry he didn’t care for or wanted.

However as Navinia and her friend continued to speak Igneous was drawn away when a familiar voice called his name. “Joel?” he wondered as he turned to face just the earthpony.

“The one and only,” he said with a familiar grin on his face.

One thing to be mentioned about Joel. When he heard he was going to run into a bit of wealth just working with frawl the first thing he told Igneous was that he was a… a ‘playboy.’ Igneous didn’t know what that meant but whatever it was it must've shown... Probably. Or at least within the context of the phrase.

Joel wore flashy clothes, not quite inconspicuous, fancy or masculine as most stallions but something else all together. He wore color full clothes with symbols and logos Igneous couldn’t read and a cap that had a bill outstretched from the back of it he wore on his head with what looked to be a lightning bolt curved around the front of it. It was bold and daring and not something Igneous or any pony would dawn anyday.

“What are you doing here anyway Joel?” he asked doing his best to ignore his apparel.

“Well,” he began as he unprofessionally slouched and lazily gazed around. “It's not like teliph menishen here,” he said playfully nudging him. Igneous only returned a confused look and Joel remembered, “oh yea. Only she knows.” Shaking his head he continued, “so anyways I guess this is the next best thing. I could settle for it and all, but hey since we're here why don’t we find a seat or something and just hang out ya know?”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry Joel I can’t, Navinia’s in my company.”

“Well where is she?” he asked glancing around him.

He looked and found her slowly approaching them with her mare friend having already left while he wasn’t looking. “There she is,” he said intending to meet her halfway.

Before he could get far Joel grabbed him by the hoof and said, “oh Igneous by the way, those weapons I said I was making?”

“Yea?” From what he remembered it was an explosive projectile based weapon specifically made to combat thieves.

“We got a working prototype but it's still a bit… not ready for conventional use.”

“When do you think we can move into full production?”

“In time,” he answered. “But not the next two days that's for sure. My guess… two weeks but it depends on how sober Frawl insists on being.”

Just then Navinia had reached them and wrapping a hoof around Igneous’ she looked Joel up and down and politely asked, “Who's this Igneous?”

Before he could answer Joel said, “Your friendly neighborhood fashion disaster and the backhanded advancement towards a more secure future.” With an unnecessary bow of gusto he gave her a final nod and walked away intent on finding his seat elsewhere and shamelessly proud of cloths.

Igneous cleared his throat shaking off Navinia’s odd encounter with him and said, “well, Navinia will I lead you to your seat?”

“Y-yes… please…” she hesitantly answered with eyes following the strange stallion until he disappeared amongst the crowd of commoners.

***

The New Order
Returning to the village after ten minutes Adridge found that it was still in very much the same state. Brawls took place in the streets and not much else. It seemed rather petty at second glance but at least they weren’t burning their own communities down, that just backwards thinking.

As she made her way down the street any that saw her coming scoffed at her confident posture and easy walk that accommodated her small size then second guessed themselves after noticing the all too obvious curved sword that was taller and perhaps even longer then her from hilt to tip. It's not like she hadn't measured when ponies weren’t looking.

Taking a second survey she found two types of ponies that clearly defined themselves amongst the chaos. The first type were the ones looking for excuses for an outburst and a reason to fight or steal and the second type were the ones finding entertainment in these pony looking for any reason to fight or steal as they stood off to the side under the canopies of buildings and shops with a pleasant grin on his or her faces.

She thought these would be the better ponies to talk to and get a little information out of so pulled up next to one particular mare dressed in heavy cloth and a collection of saddlebags with a heavy wooden odd shaped object laid across her back that was had wires strung along the length of its exterior. Nonchalantly looking out to the skirmish in much the same way she was Adridge asked, “was it the armies that sparked this civil unrest?”

She reluctantly nodded answering, “seems you already know.” Glancing to Adridge and seeing the burned state she was in she added, “and it seems you, yourself, too got caught in their thunderous volley at the battle of Cralliar.-”

‘So that's what they’re calling it,’ she thought.

“-Where you spared or did you just happen to fall behind unlike the others who already bled and gushed outlandish-true stories of other national armies and told of their thunderous power summoned fire by name, sparingly applied to this foregone prestigious, now unruly, township?”

“Faced, bled and ran,” she answered. Cracking her sword slightly open she added, “I’m a falconer and I’m looking for the over seer of this community.”

“Hmm,” she lowly hummed as she steadily turned her head to the smaller mare. “It would be wise revert from calling yourself a Falconer.” Her voice had become erie when she said this and the same voice carried over to her next sentimental warning, “The citizens will be looking for a scapegoat and no doubt Falconers will soon find themselves being run out of town or even killed if you continue to flaunt that title around.”

Adridge could admit that she was right and would keep that in mind but right now she wasn’t reluctant to be wasting any time. “The overseer of this village?” she asked again, this time in a flatter tone.

“Directly behind me,” she answered.

Adridge wouldn’t have guessed as there wasn’t even a sign to indicate this. Not to mention that the building didn’t really stand out in particular either. It actually seemed rather small and humble as it was connected to a string of conjoined living spaces or community shops that seemed already broken into and partially raided.

“I was on my way in but couldn’t help but enjoy a good show.” Looking back out to the brawls that took place she added, “I’ll be right behind you but please take you time.”

She knocked on the door and not long after did it open with a Mare cautionary hiding just behind it gingerly poking her head out to see.

Adridge nodded to her and said, “I’ve come to return something stolen from you.”

“Stolen,” she asked but seeing Adridge’s genuine expression she nodded and let her in.

Giving the room a once over as she shut the door behind her she saw that the interior was lined with an assorted collection swords, each one a different model but not quite looking too unique. She counted twelve in total and if any weapon was stolen it had to be from here.

Near the back just below a flight of stares four ponies stood in a group quiety speaking to each other. They were armored by small pieces of metal but mostly wore cloth and they each were a unicorn save it for a celestial who wore nothing for protection.

Going around a wooden counter that ran into the wall the mare asked, “so what had been stolen from me?”

“This,” she answered as she took the fixed weapon from her belt. “It wa…”

“Now let me stop you there,” she interrupted raising a hoof. “I don’t collect fixed weapons as nice as this one may look.” She tilted her head upwards adding, “I’m a unicorn.”

Processing the logic Adridge found that she should have guessed since none of the mounted weapons were fixed blades. She had to shake her head at herself for wasting every ponies time.

The mare then said, “I appreciate the intent but right now I have a crisis to sort out and a milita to organise to help keep the peace. For now I only have twenty strong in a village of six hundred.” She shook her head, “those dafted civilians, how dense! They ran the traders out of town stealing what they could while practically burning down the shops too. With any luck we may as well starve. The army is raiding farms taking most of what's there but maybe I’m a pessimist and should say how they sparingly withheld the sword from this village proclaiming it as theirs, making us Istudians by conquest.”

As she spoke one thing sparked in the opportunistic side of Adridges mind and what she picked up on was that there were no trading carts, and they were going to starve. Almost immediately she asked, “You say you need food?”

The mare's ears perked.

At any rate the Istudians might have already won all of Noriphmy by the time they caught up and the food would have gone bad too. Perhaps is she could exchange it for a longer lasting good they could offer them instead. After all this was a mining village and if anything last forever its metal.

“I have a cart just outside the village,” she began. “I was willing to skip over this place for reason already stated but perhaps we could make a trade.”

“Metal?” she almost blurted. It seemed she was almost as desperate as Adridge right about now and for a brief moment it showed but then she regained her composure and more professionally said, “We can do metal. That's all this mining village is good for and any amount of food will do.”

Adridge was relieved this mare was so easy to convince but no doubt this would benefit both parties. “We’ll take the metal and we’ll be on our way.”

The mare seemed satisfied with the proposition and she said, “perfect, perfect. I will have my milita guide you in and we’ll make the exchange. Then you’ll be off to Ukalove.”

“Where,” she asked as she hadn't actually expected the mare to assigned her a destination. “A village east of here soon to be conquered by the Istudians. They’re going to need this metal to continue lumbering, but another thing, I need you to deliver a carrier too.”

“A carrier?” she asked somewhat thrown off by having been assigned a secondary task. “A carrier for what?”

Just then the front door opened and the Mare Adridge had previously spoken to stepped in. “You summoned me?” Her voice seemed confident and a bit playful too if Adridge could imagine.

Even though Adridge practically worked in groups three for the past few years she wasn’t too intent on having a third party member slogging along aside them. She hardly even knew this mare aside from an idle conversation, and she didn’t want her to hold them back. She shook a hoof and said, “Wait, wait-wait-wait-wait. I’m not an escort and I have no time for strangers.”

“Oh, we don’t need to be strangers,” said the heavy set Mare in a tone that made Adridge feel odd and uncomfortable.

“She has a message to deliver and I only trust her to do so.”

“Why thank you,” she smiled.

“She could travel alone,” Adridge offered. “Or perhaps even nab the next caravan that passes by.”

“You think there'd be any caravans left?” the village over seer asked. “Those armies have messengers and those messengers have tales to tell and they travel to the north and the south, from one horizon to the next. They involuntarily scare merchants and traders away and where are they now? Beyond the armored wall of Istudians, far from us and unable to lend their services.” Stomping the table to emphasise her next statement she said, “there are no more caravans, no traders and no escorts. At least not here, that was made certain enough by the citizens.”

“I’m sorry,” Adridge said shaking her head. “I’m not an escort and I have my own private business to take care of.”

The village leader condescendingly smiled appearing to already be annoyed with Adridges unwillingness to cooperate. “You would think that an unjustified with a sword that big would leap at an opportunity like this to make some extra revenue...”

An unjustified.

The phrase rang through Adridge’s head and boiled her up like none other. An unjustified was considered a pony with no purpose or meaning and so they run around looking for jobs between villages. Most times as a sword for hire, other times as a temporary worker, often times ending up on the wrong end of the moral spectrum.

It infuriated her because she had a purpose and her life had meaning unlike those unjustified who hid in mountains and stabbed two backs; both bandits and civilians.

She was going to retort in such away that was sure to end all possible agreements but before she could the over seer added, “...Or perhaps you’re trying to raise the price of your services.” She shook her head, “Fine, Fine! I’m desperate you know and in a time like this it seems you’ve struck harden, true luck. You get five hundred just to begin, no, I’ll give it all now- Taff! -but of course only if you agree this very moment.”

Adridge paused for a moment and guiltily considered while one thought plagued her mind: ‘A falconer doesn't work for hire.’

It was an unwritten code they all followed. If a pony was in need then it was their duty to do the deed, but times have changed for the worst and as much as Adridge wanted to abide to the code, her better judgment said she was going to need what ever she can get and take whenever they can. It was a terrible thing to say, or in the very least think, but for the greater good… it was worth it.

“I’ll do it.” The code was a moral guideline anyways.

With a very relieved sigh followed up with a polite smile, “amazing! I’ll send my milita to escort you in and then you're off. You don’t know how much this means to me, truly.”

Chapter 8 Estoc Plays

View Online

The Estoc Plays

***

As Navinia guided Igneous to their seats the sun took its position over the Estoc stadium signaling the time. Every pony present fell silent and for every operator that had occupied the floor only one now remained as the rest scurried away behind trap does or raised gates so that the show might begin.

As Navinia happily waited by Igneous preoccupied himself to spotting out Joel. Today the crowds took seats near the very entrance of the Estoc stadium: West that was so that the performers and speakers need not look in all directions to appeal to the audience members, instead in one general direction.

Again west where every pony sat.

The wait was short but when it was over Igneous was taken by surprise when a loud, amplified voice rang throughout the stadium. When he looked he found it was the operator using alchemy to enhance his voice by manipulating the air. One would think it was a nice trick but honestly it wasn’t as grand as applying wind in combat, or so Igneous thought.

“Today,” the main operator began. “We will be showcasing the history of Caridian, but fret not as it will mostly consist of the more… exciting parts of our history.” There was a small applause but nothing unnecessary. “Warriors and warfare, Unicorns and Celestials, Monsters and Falconers, Magic and Majins and the days of the Colossal black dragon Aminus!”

There was another applause but this time a bit more enthusiastic accompanied with a few cheers. Igneous had to admit he felt a bit excited as it had been many, many years since he had ever witnessed an Estoc play and he could vouch: If their costumes and magical effects were anything like they were when he was a colt then he would find himself enjoying his time with Navinia all the better.

“Every era!” the operator announced with great enthusiasm hyping the crowds further. “Every hero and every ledged. The great beast of before and the Hexers who ruled. However we have something a bit more special.” He allowed a brief pause before continuing. “We have certain roles reserved for none other but the crowds themselves. You, the ponies who watch now! For any interested, exited or simply wanting to enjoy yourselves more you may offer up yourself in place of our hero characters and act out the lines and commands we directly provide.”

As the operator continued Igneous asked Navinia if they had ever done this before. He certainly never seen it but it has been a very long time. Maybe a few trends sprung up or they just wanted to try something new and unique. Navinia’s answer was that they had a couple times and for the most part it worked and ponies had enjoyed themselves.

“However," she began in distasteful recollection. "I remember hearing once that a certain volunteer ruined it all by panicking and running from the stadium soiling him or herself as they ran. Now I wasn’t there but what I heard was that afterwards the play continued however most ponies complained that it tore them away from the story all together.”

“Could only imagine,” he scoffed. Why would some pony volunteer only to fail so miserably?

Again they both fell silent as the main operator continued. As he spoke over the brief beginning of Carridian three ponies took their place within the stadium forming a triangle. “Now in the beginning,” he continued. “There was only mutual existence. Only three villages existed.” This of course was a metaphor as their were many, many villages in the days before the first war. What he more accurately meant was their occupation…

“...Farming.” At his words one pony broke away from the three. He took his place near the north east corner of the stadium as the announcer continued, “Ponies that worked the earth, and raised crops from fertile dirt to feed the masses.” The lone pony then reared up and when his forehooves made contact with the ground the area where he stood shook and trembled. Soon though the ground shifted and from it formed a landscape filled with rocks but and weeds but as the earth milled about, crops rose up and took their place within the stadium.

This wasn’t the work of the pony who had touched the ground as he was a simple earth pony. No, this was an act performed below by the operators who bent earth to their will. Unicorns to be exact. They pushed the fake crops up giving it the look of growth but to anybody willing to watch they could by it as a nice effect.

“Did you see that Igneous?” Navinia excitedly whispered.

“Yes I did,” he answered but honestly he was just waiting for them to be over with the opening scene and on with what most ponies had come here for. As a colt Igneous remembered having enjoyed the scripted combat sequences as often times they went over the top with fighting techniques that simply wouldn’t work in real combat. However he was naive and young then, this time he intended to scoff at their unconventional, useless swordplay while also respectfully enjoying the display.

“Lumbering.” A second pony broke away from the three as the first pretended to tend the crops. “Ponies that drove blades into trees working wood over to build structures, homesteads and tools as they subjected the forest to their will.”

Much like the farmer before, instead of crops, trees and grass rose from the ground sticking high into the air at the very touch of the earth pony. Along with were a few saddle tools this earth pony used to cut wood.

The announcing operator then moved onto the mining village speaking about it with just as much impartiality to the rest and when the mining earth pony struck the ground with his hooves a cave sprang up along with tools and a crate filled with metals of all kind as the announcer explained their role. That role being to mine for minerals, creating tools and digging up stone for buildings.

Now as the announcer continued to speak other earth ponies entered into the stadium through trap doors over their respective villages and began to work. Houses sprang up carts and trolleys took form hauling an abundance of their resource as they traded with the villages nearby.

Now as every thing seemed fine and ponies in the audience began to grow relatively broad but who could blame them. They didn’t come to learn things they already knew they came here for the battles. Thankfully this was the introduction as it wasn’t long before the announcer dropped the name everyone knew would kick off all of Carridians history.

“Kordan Verex!” the operator first began by. “...was a pony, a simple leader in a mining village many years ago. However before he became the first invader, conqueror and king he was with conflict in another village. Another mining village to be exact. The winter seasons were beginning to close in, trading was divided between them but the competition between both villages insured neither village could sustain itself. And so began the prelude of the first war.”

With swiftness of the unseen operators the arena suddenly turned to grassland and on either side stood a entourage of three ponies making their numbers six in all. One from each group stepped forward, both with looks of indignation on their faces and when they came to a greeting the first spoke saying, “I am Lato Kan, leader of my village.”

“I am Kordan Verex, leader of my village,” said the second. “I am here to discuss a resolve before the winter seasons set in which would inevitably spell starvation for all concerned.”

“And what exactly is your proposal Kordan Verex,” he said with a bit of spite. “Those other villages are only willing to barter with only but one of us. We lower the prices again and again and soon we’ll be selling mountains of rocks, ores and gold for nothing but scraps.” He said this with great feeling and emotion like he actually cared for his ponies but then when it came to Kordan he spoke more insipidly. “So what have you and come this day to make a proposition? Something that serves both parties favorably, I doubt.”

Now when it came to Kordan he stood tall, hardly moving unlike the distraught Lato he sauntered about making erratic gestures. “Simple,” Kordan had said.

“You are to suggest my word is incorrect, that both parties can be satisfied?”

“I am here to suggest...” He paused for the audience, “A merger.”

“A merger? A Merger!?” It was easy to see Lato was not pleased with Kordan’s proposition. “To say that two villages whose forefathers raised for generations should conjoin their roots and choke out one branch, my branch, while forfeiting the inheritance is outrageous. Not unless my excellence lead on will this deal be made.”

“Your excellence?” Kordan question firm but boldly. “Had your excellence come up with this proposition? Had your excellence did not but terry about in self destruction wilted to eyeing his neighbor and declaring him your demise when finding your own empty and void of sustenance? Had your excellency taken action and put forth forethought to this dilemma? Had your excellency? -your excellency?”

“You think I would simply stand by and demote myself to a commoner? I care for my ponies and cater to their needs and…”

“Can you do that now? ...Cater to their needs? The way I see it, failure to accept my proposition, this solution to all our needs, would engraven starvation and destruction upon both keeps. I the martyr, you the murderer for if you say you care for your ponies to decline would mean to put your own idealistic importance above all else, expunging the caretaker of you in place of mutually assured destruction for but an idea and a podium steadfast fore you. What you say is a lie for if you truly cared you would have accepted seeing no other alternative." His next line was a challenge. "See how long the essence of leaderships staves off starvation in line with commonwealth. Wo it makes no difference but take heed unto this; unlike you, your excellency, I do care for my ponies and I won't let ignorance spell death for us all. For if it is so then death will be made a tool along side shafts of tipped wood. Mark my words insufferable imbecilic; I will make death my tool and I apply it north of this location towards my own personal impersonators.”

But to when Kordan left expecting a messenger of appeasement. None did come and so Kordan came again just as he had said; with shafts of tipped wood and with death in stride. However in the events that ensued death only struck once.

The body of Lato as two shafts speared through his sides. He had no last words as was a silent shameful death of an instigator. Only Kordan brought peace to both villages, villages that could now ransom their services for greater.

Travelers
The day grew stark as they traveled and nearly blackened as they took shelter beneath a lone canopy of trees bearing not far off from the path eastwards. The grassy plans were tranquil save it for the wind that easily agitated the overgrown blades but the sent it carried signified to the Celestials that soon rolling thunder would be upon the land.

Ukalove, sitting against a tree with her heavy set attire, baggage and wooden thing that sat across her hooves was the first to mention it. “You prepped for thunder and the gales of wind and water?”

Magically unstrapping Lindestic the cart instantly tipped to the ground flinging up bars of metal which all landed back into the cart. Adridge and Lindestic winced at the event but regained their composure soon afterwards. Jumping onto the top she pulled out a roll of sturdy hide and threw it to the ground saying, “that's why I bought this.”

Ukalove didn’t seemed pleased. “You had so much yet you spent so little.” Her hoof tapped one of five strings the wooden thing held and it ticked once.

Adridge disregarded her as she jumped back down and began unraveling it. Ukalove was interesting to say the least if it wasn’t already apparent by the way she dressed, the numerous bags she carried and the way she carried herself, let alone talk. She was polite in her words but sometimes they eerily came off like she was speaking down to them or at least in a way one would talk to a foal. However she never criticized them just occasionally questioned things already apparent like the tarp. She witnessed them buy and take along - along with some scarce food, arrows and fire paper so why even?

'Why even!' Adridge thought.

Anyways the arrows were specifically for Adridge’s use with a summonable long- or hunting -bow to use in any situation, combat or hunting.

As she put the tarp up, over and around a low hanging branches she soon anchored down the edges with rocks creating a nice three walled, and ceilinged, wind and waterproof fort. Seeing as it was big enough to fit the three of them she nodded to herself in approval as Lindestic plopped wood down just outside the entrance.

With a sigh he said, “We're going to need more firewood if we intend to outlast the night.”

“I know, I know,” Adridge nodded as she followed him out.

Gathering wood on long travels was a common chore and one they almost never stressed about even though it took a good hour or so to gather preform, but often times that was normally accomplished with a company of three. A company two was good enough but one still lingered in the shelter; Ukalove who tampered with her wooden thing oblivious to their gases. From what Adridge could infer her wooden thing was a stringed instrument but not one she had ever seen.

Disregarding her little hobby Adridge thought Ukalove couldn’t be too stubborn that she wouldn’t assist them for her own good so she half cautiously, half flatly asked, “won’t you help us?”

She looked to the grass in consideration and for a moment they thought she would simply decline but throwing her head up she casually nodded and answered, “I wouldn’t complain if I found myself cold but… tonight I’ll be vertuous.” Setting her wooden thing aside she got up and assisted them and not long afterwards did they have two separate stacks dedicated to keeping the fire alight throughout the night.

Gathering round, or at least within the confines of the makeshift tent, Lindestic found his corner while Ukalove reoccupied her space near the back.

Arranging a third, significantly smaller pile of wood Adridge took her place by it and sighed. Looking to the other two ready for warmth she took the fire paper previously stoad away in her pocket in her scabbard and held it in her magical grip ready to be applied.

However she hesitated for a moment and only sat there as the winds slowly began to grow stronger as the thunder rolled along soft but loud, soon to be furious as it beared down on them earth shaking might.

Lindestic having already settled in raised his head to see her sitting dormant with the paper in her grip. “Will you really need fire paper?” he questioned.

“What?” she asked, her ears raising up at his sudden question.”

“Well…” he began as Dramier steadily adjusted himself to make him more comfortable before continuing. “There's plenty to be currently mad about. Surely you can indulge in… at least a little bit of anger.”

“It's not exactly like me to simply... be angry,” she said.

“What are you then?” Ukalove now asked prematurely drawing a conclusion on Dramier's subtle, final objective.

“What?”

“Well,” she began. “Are you happy? -With Noriphmy’s invasion?”

“N-no, not exactly,” Adridge answered.

“Do you find clarity in the events that have passed?” she again asked.

Again Adridge answered, “No.”

“Are you in a state of tranquility given your current situation?” Adridge shook her head. “Do you feel in control?”

It was hard to swallow but it was true. Everything that had happened had taken any sense of control or tranquility out of her and in turn severely weakened her alchemy that corresponded to those emotions. She tried to remember the times she was in control bending earth and stone to her will but it wasn’t enough as they hardly even shuttered.

She tried to remember the sense of tranquility and in times she was relaxed, calm and kind. In turn she was able to bend water and divert rivers. No longer as she constantly felt disoriented with a clouded mind.

“Well,” Ukalove prompted.

With another shake of her head she verbally answered, “no.”

This time Lindestic spoke, “Then there's nothing left Adridge.” He meant it in the kindest way possible, Adridge could tell that much.

Ukalove nodded in agreement, “yes, you must feel hatred, mad at least.”

“Maybe,” she admitted

“Then give us fire Adridge,” Lindestic pleaded. “I know you're furious, you don’t need to hide it from me.”

What was all this for, this psychoanalyzing they were conducting? To draw out fire from her and spare one little scrap of fire paper or was it something else? It was Lindestic who suggested it but was he just trying to help Adridge put to use a tool she hadn't drawn power from for years? To take pride in rage and wild fire with ferocity?

It was with the best of intentions as Adridge knew that in the day in the days to come compassion might be revoked to an after thought were as action, combat and protection became the forefront of their concerns. If anything fire was a useful tool, a tool to drive away the shadows, ward off the cold and burn their enemies to ashes.

Drawing in one breath she eased herself and focused and let down her emotional guard letting everything that had taken place over the past few weeks to get to her. Most memories were sad others unfortunate but all of which could be bent and molded into rage.

With a flare in her eyes her gaze bore down upon the wood pile and in doing so it erupted into flames, taking hold of the wood and burning on its own.

With a cheer from both the Earthpony and Celestial Lindestic happily patted Adridge on the back and said, “there you go Adridge. It's fine to indulge.”

“Unless you become poisoned,” Ukalove concurred.

“I know where I stand,” Adridge argued. “And it isn’t and will never be in a position that opposes either of you. If anything I’ll save my hatred for the armies and I’ll burn each and every last one of them I come across.”

“You and me together Adridge,” Lindestic said.

Fire was lit and when the storm overtook their little encampment they weren’t victims of the cold. For the most part they rested soundly with Lindestic having let his bird out to eat before snuggling back away beneath his feathers after Ukalove had examined in little blindness problem.

Lindestic had said its nesting place had been struck by lightning when it was much smaller. She suggested it had gone blind or was still in shock and in turn refused to open its eyes fearing the blinding light might return. This theory was only reinforced when the storm rang out with lightning causing the bird to anxiously squirm around as Lindestic kept it safe.

Ukalove poorly played her little wooden instrument before she set it aside and also fell asleep to the thunderous storm both Adridge and Lindestic found very familiar and easy to fall asleep to.

The Caridian History

Kohligans conquest, although interesting could easily be drawn out and repetitive. However it was something the play handled quite well. While two famous battles raged on the operator narrated over the screams and fake death cries explaining away the history and events leading up to the current battle explaining the triple alliances and the dangers they posed early on in Kordans conquest as well as the final battle that ended it all in a land that was now known as the Higliac Mound.

If anything the crowd really enjoyed the scripted battles that took place, some even going as far as to declare the final death by other means like hanging, mincing, flaying or anything simply unsavory. However all they did was spear them much to the disappointment of Joel who was one of the few who hollered for blood.

For as long as he had been in Noriphmy Igneous knew that Joel haddn’t seen an actual Estoc arena brawl were no limits are held and it's simply one life or the other. Igneous didn’t subscribe to those types of battles as he wasn’t very fond of seeing a convict earn notoriety through gruesome combat but if he were to be honest it wouldn’t be the fight itself he couldn’t stand. More like the dire struggle to be precise.

He’d lived that experience more times then he liked to admit but knowing this was all acted eased him but when a certain actor let out a true to life death/battle cry it often times unsettled the battle worn stallion. However when he found himself tense all he had to do was look to Navinia who’s soft gaze and friendly nature always calmed him again and again.

However every time he did he felt like he was stealing something from her. She may not have known he was the way he is, Igneous didn’t even know for sure. What was he? Lost, scared? Constantly in a place other than where he was, back in carridian; at the fortress, at the forest, at the gates, and on that snowy mountain where he found himself most often.

All that blood and those he loved, dead at the blade of an illusionist.

His chest tightened and his breathing deepened and he deeply wondered how he could be sitting right next to Navinia yet still feel miles away. This had to be a curse, it should have been but he stole yet another look from her, shook away the thoughts and turned his attention to the show down below were the first volunteer of the audience was playing Carridian the son of Kordan as he refused to keep his word and keep the nation whole and unbroken. There was a lot of monologuing, especially from the dying Kordan but eventually it ended and he was dead after what felt like a while.

“Did ponies back then really speak in that kind of language?” Igneous briefly wondered. After a short deliberation he concluded that probably wasn’t the case, especially since pre Caridian ponies weren’t that advance so how could they have such a wide vocabulary? Igneous never spoke like that and hardly four sentences before somepony else added something.

Perhaps it was just an idea that the ideal diction and way ponies communicated was sophisticated, self descriptive and drawn out but then Igneous thought that perhaps monologues were story methods that negated the need for a narrator hence why characters said their feelings aloud and talk to themselves when nopony was around.

“Igneous look,” Navinia whispered not taking her eyes off the arena floor.

By now the previous scene taking place in the castle courtyard had ended with Caridian saying aloud, “I will divide the nation into three separate powers and together they shall bring balance and unsure in reconcile.”

The audience volunteer who had played Caridian did so very well but if one looked they would know that he was a sophisticated pony indeed and to have participated in the estoc play would surely add to his notoriety amongst his peers.

As the crowd applauded him as he wandered away as instructed the narrator took his place again as the operators changed the whole scene from a stony castle garden complete with flowers and a decorated path to a small village all the while the narrator spoke saying, “in the coming years after the first war Carridian died peacefully as a well honored Verex unlike his father the first invader, conqueror and king.

“For the next forty four years after Carridians death there would be peace between each nation without a conflict of war until the end of the forty fifth year when the old lands of Carridian were conflicted by bodily creatures not akin to pony or beast known and willed by pony. These bodily creatures originated from no known land or area and seemingly came from the earth itself as if she conspired against the frailties and corruptness of her occupants.-”

The operators had finished their construction and once again disappeared within the buildings that were well placed over trap doors to also allow the villagers to emerge from the same building also.

Where the suspense had been built as the narrator drug out his last few lines the suspense was then broken as a roar rang throughout the stadium shaking the very stone it was built upon.

Igneous shifted in his seat, felt for his sword that had been stored away within the wardrobe and checked his back a shield that laid broken in a fortress long abandoned by Hexers. However where he instinctively reached for his weapons Navinia clutched his hoof in excitement and anticipation with a big radiating smile on her face as the ‘beast’ sauntered onto the stage.

“-From villages far bordering the lands, they fell to awful blood of all kind; beast, greater beats, avians and dragons. The armies and warriors hardly posed a threat as fiends mercilessly pummeled communities to dirt leaving nothing but beaten paths, broken homes and shattered embers but most abundantly of all, ash in their wake of destruction.-”

This ‘beast’ was well crafted to say the least and, if anything, lifelike as it moved just like Igneous would expect. Hunched low with eyes beaming the horizon stuck within a shifty head and body that waved with every step as if to mimic the trail of a snake.

This crafted beast was a greater one and if it could be described by Igneous, he’d say it looked very generic. Starting from the tail it was lined with jutting scales that lined the very back of the beats all the way up to the nape of its neck. It had two horns, clawed fingers and hardened knuckles and scaly feet. Also it was red, the safest color scheme known to illustrators when it came to illustrating beasts and dragons. As far as he knew beasts and dragons were a multitude of colors; some vibrant green, others a dark purple, more a shining yellow and lastly nightly blue.

Sure the beast before the audience was well crafted but Igneous having judged according to experience was a bit more critical even if it was only its color scheme. However he would let it pass, it was only an opinion anyways.

“-Ponies knew not what to do. In times of desperation they turned on each other, they grew fearful however she, the world, seemed to favor equis and so she granted pony beasts akin to us.” This he spoke while the crafted beast rampaged the village while ponies scampered around panicked. “Born from earthponies she first granted Celestials to rule the sky and keep watch in the night. Her second born was Unicorns whose minds and otherworldly skill devised contraptions and weapons laid forth for the slaying of beasts, avians and dragons.

“However Celestials and Unicorns were feared amongst their own kin fore born as they took the celestial for a sane beast, unnatural and unattainable for unlike earth, borne by earth, celestial were borne by sky their for making earth bornes inferior in nature. The Celestial later proved faithful as she fought alongside earth bournes.

“Earth bornes also feared the Unicorn calling it a freak amongst equis wielding entities without touch and shifting objects beyond. This unicorn elongated the spear head and shrunk the shaft creating the sword for slashing rather than just stabbing. However unlike Celestials who were borne by air unicorns dwelt amongst earthponies and so most considered it a ruler to be.

“This however was proven right in the later years but the first catalyst barer honorably, graciously and willingly fought below earthponies in the war against beasts, avians and dragons.” The crafted beasts had knocked down the majority of the city at this time and the actors had brought on a small battalion of earth ponies strapped with spears in a fixed positions pointing towards the beast itself. “However celestials were few and unicorn just as scarce. They couldn’t align themselves with any one nation for it was every nation that needed them but a celestial could dare combat a beast by itself neither could a unicorn match the strength and power of beasts let alone a simple earth pony.

“So they devised a groups acting as vigilantes and during this time when they combated beasts in threes; one earthpony, celestial and unicorn, Celestials were still considered beastly and unicorns freakish. However it was the celestial that had its due in the naming of these trios meant to combat beasts and those groups were named Falconers for a pony who works with birds and avians call himself a falconer so be not the nature of them?”

By this time the battalion of earth ponies had been cutely slaughtered with slow swipes and fake bites and over acted deaths by the lot. Igneous sighed, death was not so passionate as these ponies pretended it to be.

“I call upon two for our second act,” the operator then announced. “One celestial one unicorn to play the roles of the first falconer party.”

There was a stir amongst the crowd as many wanted to participate raising their hooves to show it as operators peruse the stands looking for a fitting candidate. However as Igneous felt disinterested in the matter as he would had rather sat amongst the rest.

However it was Navinia who excitedly said, “Igneous we just have to go. Were perfect the roles and your a falconer too!” She lightly tugged on him as he hesitated to consider.

Meanwhile an operator walked by and noticed Navinia’s efforts to volunteer him and so he asked, “Will you two be participating? Answer quickly for another might take your place.”

“Igneous, please,” she asked, her eyes pleading in much the same way a filly would cutely beg.

“Quickly,” the operator came again.

If Mace’s father had said anything it was to lay low and to not draw much attention to himself. This was going against that but Igneous remembered it was more of a suggestion rather than a command. Besides, he was the prince after all whether it be known amongst the public or to a loyal few.

“I’ll play the role of the first smith,” he said standing with Navinia who smiled in excitement. It couldn’t be that hard just face the crafted beast, say the lines given and wave a sword until it plays dead. Almost like actual falconering deducting the short monologue before the battle of course.

With Navinia having been equipped with lightened cloth designed to give off the appearance of armor and dull claws with a simple switch mechanism, Igneous was then also outfitted with studded non-authentic armor and a dull longsword made from cheap metal. If anything they looked real from afar but if Igneous remembered correctly studded or even metal armor may not have been used by ponies until the great rising was almost at an end. Whatever the case it didn’t concern him so long as Navinia was happy which she very much was as well as excited and giddy too as an earth pony actor of the estoc play accompanied them dressed in the same studded armor as Igneous but with a wooden block carved in a look closely mimicking that of an earthenier crossbow albeit without the mechanical components.

“I’ll be whispering you your lines,” he said as he moved a strip of cloth over his mouth presumably to hide any visual evidence of him speaking to them. “Follow me in and I’ll make it known to you as well as the actions to take.”

They were set on an lift just below one of the many trap does of the arena floor. As they were hoisted up the trapdoor gave and they were within a square wooden building.

Igneous swallowed nervously before the actor said to Navinia, “the scene has changed the villagers rest and the celestial keeps watch over the night. Night is the time and a beast lurks but you have seen it. Fly out and repeat these lines.” He drew in closer to Navinia and whispered silently so that only she could here. After a brief moment he pulled away and asked, “have you remembered?”

Navinia muttered the words to herself saying, “I am the celestial who keeps watch in the night and night is the time and this time is my domain were upon this best will lay slain before me, smith and earth; the falconers, sworn to protect.”

“Good, now go,” he said pushing open the front door that face away from the crowed gathered on the west side of the stadium. He then turned his attention to Igneous, “your lines, are you ready?” Igneous nodded. “On exit you’ll face the beast and here’s what you’ll say, ‘It is I the first born of my kind; dawned of armor and trekked for miles. Now I faceth thee with a forged sword of brass. I say fall dead in pieces.’ The beast will do its part, simply play along but don’t damage our property.”

“My word,” he assured with a nod. “Lead on.”

It was only a moment before they heard the Navinia finish her lines whereas the actor pushed open the door letting Igneous lead first. This was a simple task but the crowds were another thing but a thing Igneous wasn’t afraid of.

What did bring him to a halt in his tracks however was the crafted beast he now faced. In one hand it held an actor covered in fake blood. Upon shifting its head it faced Igneous with a toss of a lively corps and snarled an oh so life like snarl.

He had paused for too long as the accompanying actor whispered, “it is I, the first born of my kind…”

“It… i-it is…” He couldn’t take his eyes off the beast, the way it looked the way it moved and the way it glared at him, but it wasn’t only that but the sight and the familiarity of his peripherals round about. Torn homes, scattered corpses, blood, lots of blood.

“It is I, the first of my kind…” the actor said again.

The beast took one step forward and Igneous’ grip tightened upon the fake blade.

“Igneous?” Navinia worriedly called from above.

He could only swallow as the crafted monster towered over him blocking out a portion of the light. His grip tightened even more on the fake sword as he slowly positioned it for an offensive move.

The actor at his side then called out, “It is he, the first of his kind; dawned of armor and trekked for miles. Now I faceth thee with a forged sword of brass. Before, this beast will lay in pieces. Now go forth my league and slay thee!”

That must have been the que for the operators operating the fake beast as it took one last step forward with a snarl on its face. It was one step too far.

“Away From Me!” Igneous shouted as he charged beneath the craft of wood and cloth before plunging his sword deep within the belly of it. The actor at his side lept back in surprise but the crowed cheered unaware that he had diverged from the script however Igneous wasn’t done.

The actor although very, very displeased still had an audience to upkeep and so he bellowed, “be thee he slays the beast!”

With the blade buried deep he again thrusted upwards and the crafted beast was lifted off its feet. When it dropped to the ground Igneous quickly withdrew drawing it along its side nearly cutting it in half. He stabbed the back and again the crowed cheered as the blade stuck with only the tip having penetrated.

The crafted beast no longer moved. No doubt the ties any unicorn had over it had been broken while Igneous, who now stood over it with sword bearing, sliced away it at.

“The Beast Is Dead!” the actor shouted for all to hear but mostly as a sign for Igneous to let up and retreat away from it.

“No,” he whispered. “They never die.” The sword began to glow and the air around it morphed and before long Igneous again plunged the blade deep within the craft of wood and cloth whereas it erupted into a ball of flame obliterated and destroyed for good. Only then did Igneous’ ragged breathing subsided, only then did his eyes see and only then did he remember where he was.

The Estoc arena were the crowds now cleared but were the operators threw him out after having exited through a trap door. By that time Navinia had learned that Igneous had gone off script and destroyed the prop without permission. Igneous could only hang his head low he waited outside while Navinia talked it over with the Estoc operators.

Surly now she would want nothing to do with him especially after having embarassed her in front of half the capital. He could he have done that, what could have compelled him to suddenly lash out with such a compulsion? He lost control, something a falconer should never do. He wasn’t thinking straight, something a leader should always maintain.

However it wasn’t a leader he was trying to be. He simply was trying to be normal in this instance however that clearly didn’t work out. In fact it hadn’t worked out these past few weeks he had been within the capital and sadly it was no different today.

What would she do? What would she say? These questions and many more plagued his mind while he waited on the streets as ponies passed him by oblivious to his situation. If anything this was probably more scary then that crafted beast back in the arena over there.

With a crack a Estoc operator door built into the side of the Estoc arena Igneous winced as Navinia slowly stepped out and began to eye the guilt ridden unicorn. As she stared down at him Igneous didn’t know what to say as he hadn’t quiet been in this type of situation before.

“Igneous,” she began her usual soft voice giving some what to sternness. “What happened? Why did you do that?” It was the same questions he asked himself with no definitive answer to be given.

After a moment he simply shook his head and said, “I don’t know Navinia. It wasn’t my intention.”

“But Igneous you voluntarily destroyed their property. You weren’t under command, it wasn’t in the script, you just… just... ruined it.”

She had every right to be mad or at least upset and Igneous fully acknowledged it. “I’m sorry Navinia,” he offered still too guilty to look up at her. “I embarrassed you in front of every pony, I ruined your image and turned this day to ash.”

“As well as the monster,” she reminded. “Literally.”

“If you be done with me I understand. You deserve something better then my presents, after all I’ve had nothing to contribute, I've only taken from you, so just send me away and I won't burden you any longer.”

“Igneous,” she began. “Do you have any idea how much I spent getting you out of trouble with those operators?” It was a rhetorical question but one Igneous still had the decency to meet her eyes on. However it was what she said next that caught him off guard. “Why would I send you away now? Seems a bit counterproductive to invest that kind of money in you if I were to simply send you off.”

“But Navinia…”

“No,” she said with a smile. “I am your host and you are my guest. Be polite and spend the rest of the day with me.”

“But the ponies, your reputation.”

“As far as they know you followed the script,” she reassured. “My reputation is safe now come along and let's go find lunch.”

Falconers and the Fire Within the Fighter

by MadDonut

Chapter 1 The Strength of a Legacy

Chapter 2 Infamous Days

Chapter 3 Champion of Blood and the Champion of Embers

Chapter 4 The False Interpreter

Chapter 5 Court of Quariomy

Chapter 6 Stones and Shackles

Chapter 7 The Next Re-Quest

Chapter 8 Estoc Plays