> Fourteen Years Gone
>  by Thought Prism
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Chapter {1}
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

I spun through the unfathomable void between planes, the sensation both familiar and alien. Almost as soon as it began, it was over, my twin hooves crunching against the rocks below as my body snapped back into place.

The sun overhead shone warm and inviting in the cloudless sky. I was surrounded by winding canyons and wind-carved rock formations, the sandstone a most welcome sight. My grin quickly shifted into one of genuine happiness. Home, at last.

An enormous sigh escaped my lungs as the weight of a short lifetime lifted from my shoulders. The fires of my heart were quelled, the rage born of countless indignations fading away. It was over. It was all over. Lightheaded, I braced myself against a nearby boulder.

At long last, I could see my precious daughters again. Would they remember me? They were both so young when I'd left, and I'd been away for so long, agonizingly distant. After everything I've done, what that world made me become, could I still be a good father? No, that was no way to think. I must be, for them. I didn't have to be Angrath the ruthless pirate captain anymore. I could be Angled Wrath the humble blacksmith again. 

Angrath didn't belong here, on Equus. He had been driven by fury, free to do all but the one thing that mattered most. Ixalan had shaped him into a conqueror, one who took what he could in a futile effort to fill the void and then burned the rest. But now I was back, my one true joy within arms reach. I remembered Golden Heart's affectionate words and Argent Soul's adorable giggle, and I smiled. It may take some time, but I would care for them as best I could, even if I had to relearn all the nuances of fatherhood from scratch.

Unable to wait even a moment longer, I scanned the horizon - a familiar one - and begun to march towards the tall mountain that marked the edge of the city of Rinthos, my birthplace. With each step, a bit of Angrath was left behind and a piece of Angled Wrath returned. I wouldn't abandon everything, though. With some omission and embellishment, my adventures would make for most entertaining stories to share. Not to mention the fact that I could cast spells now, drawing upon the land's mana to heat objects, among other things. As far as I know, I'm the first minotaur from here to attain such a talent. Angled Wrath, the planeswalking battlemage! I can already picture the look of wonder on their faces, starry-eyed and innocent.

Wait, no, it's been fourteen years. Golden and Argent should be all grown up by now. Oh gods, they're all grown up. I've missed so much... but I can be there for them now, and that's what matters.

My thoughts never left my daughters as I set off. I spent hours marching down barely visible mountain trails, not even stopping to eat or drink. The sparse vegetation and dry air of our people's native land was quite welcome after the dense, stifling jungle. The heavy chains wrapped around my torso felt like nothing, propelled onwards by renewed purpose as I was.

By the time I reached the final ridge between me and Rinthos, the sun hung low in the sky, dying everything in an orange tint. Soon, the pony princess across the sea would be setting it in motion anew. But that was the least of my concerns. As I imagined the sight that would greet me on the other side, memories of my life, once tainted by resentment and loss, returned in force. Peaceful days, quiet work, and simple pleasures spent with family, grateful for what remained.

Then I crested the edge of the valley, and everything inside me ceased.

Where a proud city-state once stood now rested only ruins. Almost every building had collapsed, bricks reduced to rubble and wood charred to ash. The fields had turned fallow, unattended. There were no signs of movement, not a single 'taur to be seen. Only the lake was the same, quiet and still.

I couldn't breathe, couldn't think. I descended the slope on automatic, overwhelmed. As I got closer, passing the city limits, more details became visible. There were corpses, long picked clean by scavengers. Some were large, and some were small, but all were recognizably my people. Many had weapons still clutched in their hands. Within the wreckage, the cold black iron of cannonballs poked out from beneath the dust.

No. No no no no no. Please, no!

Unable to stop myself from trembling in fear, jaw clenched, I broke out into a run. Adrenaline rushing through my veins, I followed familiar streets, heedless of any further evidence of carnage long passed. When I reached my once and former household, my heart shattered.

Mere paces from where the door once stood, there were two bodies, clad in tattered dresses. Female. One had a two-pronged spear still lodged in her ribcage. The other's horns had been shattered by deadly force, along with her skull. 

How was this fair? First my wife, then Ixalan, and now this? It was simply too much to bear. 

I dropped to my knees and wept, my wails of sorrow echoing into the heavens. 

I did not know how long I spent there, crouched in the dirt and pawing at all that was left of my family. Eventually, the unbearable pain receded, overwritten by a building rage stronger than any I had ever felt. I saw only red, my tears turning to spiraling embers as my fists and horns thrummed with unrestrained energy. My blood boiled like magma.

In that moment, after the last traces of my old life had been stripped away, Angled, nearly returned, was eaten by those flames. Only Angrath remained.

That made things simple. I had but one dream now: vengeance. To see that those responsible for this slaughter suffered tenfold for their actions. 

I stood, scanning my surroundings for a sign of the perpetrators. There were no bodies besides those of my kin. If any were felled by the minotaurs, they were later removed by those that survived. I could understand that. To leave behind valuable gear or provisions was a waste. So, I ended up weaving through the husk of the city until, eventually, I stumbled upon something unusual: a strip of black cloth, likely torn from a banner in the chaos of war. The emblem in the center was a mirrored pair of teal green spikes.

I clenched my hand, crushing the symbol between my glowing fingers. Whoever flew this flag had made a grave mistake. Because I would be coming to hunt them down. Nothing would stop me, for I had nothing left to lose.
> Chapter {2}
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

It took some doing, but I eventually managed to put a lid on my seething rage. There was no one here anymore, to scream or lash out anymore would be a waste of energy. Better to save it for those who really mattered, those who dared shatter my world anew.

There is an old saying that revenge is a dish best served cold. Whoever said that had been a fool, or never had cause for revenge themselves. A methodical, calculated plan was about the last thing on my mind. That would be extremely unsatisfactory. There were no steps, only a goal, lit before me like a blazing arch. 

As my eyes refocused on my surroundings, I was struck by the cruel irony of all this. Razing ships and villages to the ground, those were standard tactics for my fleet. The skull and crossbones wasn't even dissimilar to the flag I had found. Perhaps this was karma, come to bite me in the ass. 

If so, karma could shove it. It had no right! The Imperials, the Heralds, they all lived for the wrong reasons and died for the right ones.

I snorted. Dwelling on this just wasted time. I wanted to get moving. I would be neither delayed or denied.

Well, as much as I still knew, it was a long way to the next closest town, and most of the distance was desert. My jerky rations had turned to lifeless slime during my earlier 'walk, so I foraged around for food a bit first, then refilled my canteen in the lake. As prepared as I was going to be, I left Rinthos behind.

I marched, the dense stone slowly giving way to windblown sand as night fell. Sleep took a backseat to progress. Some young folk thought traversing a desert at night was the obvious best course of action. Most learned the hard way that the nightly chill was nearly as frigid as the daytime heat was stifling. But I had fur and clothes to keep me warm, and the glow of magic to guide my hooves. Still, gales sucked sand up into the air, the grains biting into my body. But that pain was nothing.

Otherwise unoccupied, I imagined what shape my foe would take, and the sound that would be produced when I smashed my hammer through their stunned face. I almost wished a Tatzelwurm would burst forth from beneath my feet just so I could get some practice in.

It wasn't until the next day that I got my first glimpse of rooftops beyond the dunes. Glad I hadn't missed it, I approached without fear. This was the edge of Saddle Arabia, the second largest nation on the Zebrican continent. Between the red-tinted buildings, linen-wrapped camels and horses moved to and fro, going about their daily business. This was how all communities should be: full of hard-working people living their chosen lives in peace.

However, it seemed that my appearance was a minor disturbance to routine. Many an eye was drawn to me as I entered, and I was happy to take advantage of the attention.

Approaching one curious stallion, I went straight to the point, reaching into a pocket and pulling out the banner. "Do you know whose flag this is?"

After a quick glance down at it, he shook his head. "Can't say I do, sorry. News is slow to travel all the way out here to Wellspring. You might want to speak with Lighttread in the square, though. She's the only other minotaur in town."

"Thanks," I replied tersely, already walking off.

Another minotaur, eh? I suppose that counts as good news, but when considering why they were here in the first place, only one explanation would be acceptable. I'd find out which they would use soon enough.

It was immediately clear that the 'square' was really more of a circle. This settlement was only possible due to the shimmering oasis, ringed by date palms and clearly the town's namesake. Naturally, everything had been built around it, and the marketplace was no exception. Proud merchants hawked their wares, brought in from afar, to passersby. But I didn't see a member of my kinfolk behind any of the colorful stands.

Absent any other leads, I drew closer, attracting more stares as I went. That was when I spotted her, lying bundled in rags in an alleyway and bearing a numb expression. Like most 'taurs, she only had two horns. More notable was what she didn't have, namely a second arm. Her left had been chopped off at some point, leaving only a misshapen stump. I would have pitied her, but I was out of shit to give.

Even when I was practically on top of her, she didn't notice my presence until I slammed my palm against the wall above her head. "Hey!" I exclaimed.

Lighttread flinched, sliding backwards a few inches before whirling to face me. A little bit of life returned to her eyes as her nostrils flared in surprise. She clearly had not been expecting to see another minotaur. "W-What do you want?" she asked.

I withdrew the flag again and showed it to her. Before I could even ask her anything, Lighttread yelped in fear and shied away even further. 

"So, you do recognize it. Tell me everything you know," I commanded. "What happened to Rinthos?"

She was shaking like a leaf. At first, I didn't think she'd be able to regain her composure, but thankfully she did. She took a deep breath, and then she was calm. "It was the Storm King," she said.

Not a relative of Lannery's, I assumed. Still, a king was good. Those on top had the farthest to fall.

"He came out of nowhere one day a few years ago," Lighttread continued, "at the helm of an enormous airship. He made a proclamation. That all of us were to hand over our possessions and serve him, or be destroyed." 

In an instant, it all made sense. My brow furrowed. "To ask for our freedom was to ask for our very lives. So obviously everyone fought back, with all their might."

Lighttread nodded.

"Except you," I added, arms crossed. "You fled. You are a coward and a disgrace."

"You weren't there!" she exclaimed. "His soldiers were impossibly tough, and the ship disgorged them by the hundred! Not to mention all the cannons!"

"Excuses. Look at yourself now, and tell me with a straight face that your current existence was worth it," I said, gesturing to indicate her miserable state. "You could have died proudly, defending your home, your family!" My family, I added, internally.

Lighttread at least had the decency to look ashamed. She spoke quietly, resigned. "I'm guessing you were away in foreign lands when he came, and only just returned. Those few are all who remain, now."

"Yes, though not by choice," I specified. "Make yourself useful for once, Lighttread. Tell me where I can find this Storm King."

She sighed, shying away. "I... don't know."

"Does anyone else here know?" I asked, huffing in indignation.

Lighttread shook her head. "Probably not."

I had figured as much. Bah. The hard way it is, then. "Then I will hunt him down myself. To the ends of the earth if I have to." 

"By yourself?"

I stared down at her in grim determination. "Yes."

Having nothing more to say to her face, I turned and left. "I, Angrath, will avenge us."





By joining up with a caravan, I made good time to the heart of Saddle Arabia. The capitol was massive, with wide thoroughfares that gave way to multi-story homes, ornately decorated bazaars, and elaborate temples built to honor ancient gods. Unlike Wellspring, there were so many horses and other creatures milling about that I practically went unnoticed, despite my size. When I tried asking around for news, I was barely given the time of day before being brushed off, everyone in a hurry or preoccupied. That's city folk for you.

I didn't expect that approach to work, but it never hurt to be thorough, not when the stakes were this high. They had their lives and I had mine. No sense wasting energy. My priority was scanning the storefronts, as there was a particular type of establishment that couldn't be beat when it came to information gathering.

I heard the place before I saw it, the echo of laughter finding my ears. I couldn't read the sign, written in the obtuse Arabian alphabet, but the smell of drink in the air was unmistakable. It was a tavern. If I couldn't pick up word of the warmonger here, then I couldn't anywhere. Nothing loosened lips quite like mead.

There was no door, only a fabric curtain, and I brushed it aside as I ducked through the entrance. Stallions and mares, some dressed and some not, knelt around low tables, sharing conversations and drinks. Tuning them out, I sat at the bar, barely fitting into the small wooden stool.

The bartender's face was wrinkled with age, and his grey beard nearly reached down to the mug he was cleaning in his hooves. After putting it away, he trotted over, eyebrows raised. "Can't say I've seen you around here before. What'll it be?"

Reaching into my jacket, I pulled out a single large coin and set it on the counter. It was of Dusk Legion make, but gold was gold. "I'm looking for someone called the Storm King. Hear anything?" 

The barkeep replied with a shallow nod as he discretely tucked the money away. He locked eyes with me. "You're in luck. A few hours ago, I got a group of harpies in here who used to work for the guy. Actually flew in on an airship, if you can believe that."  

Excellent. I could get a destination and transport in one fell swoop. "Where?" I asked.

"Ship's probably at the docks," the stallion said. Then, he pursed his lips. "But I'd be careful if I were you. For merchants, they didn't strike me as having legitimacy, if you catch my meaning."

Pirates, eh? I grinned. What were the odds? "Oh, that won't be a problem."

That was all I needed to know, so without further ceremony, I waved the horse farewell and slipped back outside. Airships weren't terribly common this side of Kaladesh, so I followed the familiar scent of salty sea air to the coast. After crossing the whole city, I came to a long, shallow beach. The telltale browns of jutting wood posts were visible in the distance, beckoning. 

A pang of longing shook me deeply as I passed a group of children playing in the surf without a care in the world. I almost broke stride to stare. But no. Distractions would not do. I would need to be at my most intimidating, my most ruthless, if this was going to work.

By the time I stepped onto the worn surface of the pier, my mindset was once more as harsh and unforgiving as the waves. I would not yield an inch, for that was how you came out on top. The lone airship stood out like a sore thumb, hovering a good ten feet above the waterline and tethered to the dock with sturdy ropes. Its sails, even folded, were quite visible with their bright colors. As I got closer, I could hear faint voices from above, which meant I didn't have to wait; the harpies were already here.

My grip firm, I grabbed the nearest hawser and hauled myself hand over hand up to the deck. With one last pull, I swung my legs over the railing. They were now officially boarded. A cursory examination revealed the lack of people outside, so I followed the sound to a doorway leading below and let myself in. 

I was immediately graced with a scene as old as the profession. Five green-plumed avians sat around a table burdened with various piles of loot and trinkets, sorted by one criteria or another for allocation or sequestering. I had caught them deep in the middle of an intense debate. A broad-shouldered male wearing a bandanna had his forearm, complete with hook hand, planted on the table for emphasis. "I don't think we should part with that ruby quite yet—"

However, he was cut off when the one at the head of the table, a chick wearing the telltale hat of a captain, bolted upright in alarm, knocking her chair aside. "What the—? Intruder!"

I didn't budge as the others all whirled to face me, suddenly tense as they too got to their feet. "Oy, what in blazes in he doin' here?" exclaimed a skinny fellow with an eyepatch.

"Prolly nothin' good, Mullet," replied a chubby, pink-faced female.

The captain furrowed her brow, glaring at me with one claw resting on the hilt of the sword at her belt. "My name is Celaeno. Tell me what you're doing here on my ship, or I might just throw you off."

I sneered, matching her intensity. "That's just it. As of now, this is my ship. I'm taking command."

"Like hell you are!" exclaimed hook-hand, his non-hook hand clenched into a fist.

"You tell him, Boyle!" Celaeno affirmed with a stomp of her emerald pegleg. "I don't know who you are, but we won't go down without a fight. Not again!"

The last of the harpies, a wall-eyed one, squawked in agreement.

Alright. If it was a battle they wanted then that was what I would give them. Nothing changed a scoundrel's opinion faster than a show of force anyway. It was a fine line, though. I had to thrash them enough to give the lot second thoughts about resisting without completely routing them. I needed their help, after all. So, full strength, but applied in a more calculated manner than usual. I could manage that.

Mouth shut in a firm line, I stepped forward, calling forth burning mana to pound through my veins as I unwound the chain from myself. The metallic scrape of link against link was accompanied by the quick zing of Celaeno unsheathing her blade. "Get him, boys!" she exclaimed.

With a mighty collective caw, they charged, Boyle and Mullet in the lead on either side. My time-honed combat instincts kicked in, and I reacted immediately. With a twist of my arm, I sent the tip of my chain whipping into Boyle's face at unavoidable speed. It caught him across the cheek with a crack, tearing open a nasty gash as he was sent reeling into the wall. He clutched at the wound, screaming in pain. 

Then, I turned to Mullet and cast one of my favorite spells. Drawing up my deepest, most vile impulses, I pushed them outwards into his mind with as much intensity as I could. The effect was immediate. His one visible eye lit up a deep, menacing red and he spun midstride. Screeching, the dagger he had pulled from his vest, originally intended for me, now whirled towards the chubby female harpy behind him. She had no time to react beyond throwing her beak open in surprise before he raked the weapon across her throat.

She collapsed to the floor, sputtering as she bled out, the sharpened serving spoon on her tail clattering against the floor as she pawed uselessly at her neck. There was no way she'd survive. The loss of a potential underling was unfortunate, but such a premature demise was to be expected in the field of piracy.

My employed method, however, wasn't. The captain and the cooky one both stopped midlunge to stare at their fallen comrade and the induced traitor responsible. "Lix Spittle, no!" Celaeno cried out in shock and horror.

However, Mullet did not give her time to grieve, and set upon her next. Still reeling, Celaeno was barely able to parry the vicious stab aimed at her chest. He attacked relentlessly, without care for his own safety. But Celaeno didn't capitalize on any openings, instead keeping on the defensive, her shaky arms a clear indicator of her faltering resolve.

While not visibly incensed, googly-eyes cautiously began to approach me with a predator's gait, his long claws held in front of him at the ready. Boyle, having recovered his composure, stood to join him, eyes laced with contempt.

Knowing I had made my point, now I hammered it home, before they could strike again. "I believe it's about time you gave up," I said, sending a malicious gaze at each of the pirates, one after the other. "I can easily get another crew, but can you get another chance at life?"

One after the other, their expressions faltered. During the brief gaps between having to block Mullet's continued attacks, Celaeno glanced to me and the now motionless form of Lix in sorrow. She let out an anguished huff. "Fine! Squabble, Boyle, stand down. You win, minotaur. Just stop Mullet!"

Just what I was hoping to hear. Gracious in victory, I complied, dispelling my magic. Himself again, Mullet fell to his knees. Panting, Celaeno sheathed her sword as Squabble lowered his claws, backpedaling to her side. Boyle didn't move, grabbing a pocketed rag to press onto his cheek and glaring at me all the while. Satisfied with the scene, I rewound my chain, ignoring the blood on the end. 

Eyes shimmering with tears, Celaeno knelt down by Lix Spittle, shutting her fallen comrade's eyes with a delicate motion. "Well, congratulations," she said to me, the sarcasm hard to pick out from how her breath hitched. "I guess you're the captain now..." 

"It's Angrath. And yes, obviously," I confirmed, showing no remorse. I could have been more empathetic, but such sentiment only made the work more difficult. What kind of pirates were these? None on the Belligerent had been this attached to their mates for that reason. Perhaps this made me hypocrite, given why I was here in the first place.

Scowling even more deeply, Boyle spat a mixture of blood and saliva in my direction before objecting. "To hell with that! How could you do this, you bastard!?”

Ok, that reaction made more sense to me. I smirked. "I did ask first. You wouldn’t give me your ship. So, I had to persuade you.”

His beak fell open. "That wasn't asking, that was declaration of war! You couldn't have, I don't know, gotten your own bloody boat!?"

"Enough!" Celaeno said, arms crossed and face hard. Then she turned to me. "What's done is done. What I want to know is why. Why us? Fate can't be this cruel."

I nearly laughed. What did she know of cruel fates? "Simple. Word on the street is that you lot are familiar with the Storm King. You will take me to him. He and I have unfinished business. As in, all of his present business will remain unfinished after I eviscerate him for his actions."

Celaeno's eyes widened, and she immediately cringed. "Oh, that's... a bit of a problem." She scratched at the crest feathers on the back of her head. "See, he's kinda, sorta... already dead."

With those simple words, my final dream was crushed. I couldn't mete out retribution for my people; someone else had beaten me to it. "So. He's already dead. Already dead!?" I roared, stomping my hoof through a floorboard at the injustice. "When? How!?"

She flinched at my outburst, but managed to answer nonetheless. "It all happened about a month ago. Back then, we had been unwillingly conscripted into doing delivery runs for him." 

Oh. They hadn't even been cooperating willingly. I glanced at Lix's body with a tiny tinge of regret. A tiny one.

"But then, these ponies showed up," Celaeno continued. "According to them, the Storm King had Equestria under his thumb. They convinced us to rebel, and we helped them take back their capital. I heard he ended up accidentally doing himself in with one of his own weapons." 

"Dammit," I swore. The ponies probably thought that was poetic, what with them being largely pacifist. To me it was the definition of disappointing. But this quest was all I had left. I've come too far to abandon it so easily. Someone was going to have all my emotions beaten into them.

"What about his army?" I asked. "Did he have a first mate, a second in command?"

Celaeno nodded. "Yeah, Tempest Shadow. She did most of the heavy lifting, actually. But—"

"Good enough. She'll do," I said, cutting her off. It didn't matter what else the harpy had to say. My mind was made up.

Still, Celaeno protested. "You didn't let me finish! Tempest is—"

"I do not care," I reiterated through gritted teeth, glowing magic flaring to emphasize that no further words on the matter would be tolerated. She visibly gave up with a sigh. With that taken care of, I turned to address the room. "Alright, you scallywags. We're setting sail for wherever Tempest Shadow is. Immediately."

"Seriously?" Boyle exclaimed, throwing up his arms. "How exactly do you expect us to know that, Angrath?"

"I didn't. We'll find her trail and pursue it," I said.

As I was replying, Squabble pointed to the late Ms. Spittle, his head tilted to the side.

"— After a proper funeral," I added. I wasn't going to be that cruel to these guys, with them being my fresh crew, and all. "Cremation, or whatever it is you people do." 

Celaeno looked to me in apprehension. "We were going to do that anyway. But I think you have some major apologizing to do first," she said, gesturing to the side.

Following the motion, I saw Mullet, who had escaped my mind for a while there. He was sitting on the floor, mumbling things like 'I didn't mean it' and 'I'm so sorry' under his breath as he rocked back and forth. Clearly he was having trouble getting past my little hijacking from earlier. Most of the time those individuals didn't survive to think about the experience afterwards. Still, ugh. He was useless wallowing like that. I had to console him. Or smooth over his guilt, at least. 

When I stepped closer, he barely seemed to notice. So I leaned down over Mullet's face to make sure he was listening. Only once his vacant eyes met mine did I begin. "Now see here. I'm sure you don't know this; I didn't either. For most, using magic to control minds is difficult. But making someone lose control? That is easy. So don't blame yourself; her death is one of many on my shoulders," I said.

He clenched at his legs, letting my words sink in. Eventually, he stopped shaking. When he found it in himself to speak, Mullet's horror had been replaced with disdain. "I don't want to work for another murderer."

"I wouldn't expect you to," I confirmed, ensuring my tone was abundantly clear. "You are free to choose. You all are. But you will, because you know the alternative. Sure, you could try to kill me again. I'd welcome the exercise. But it won't work. Just help me with this one task, and then I'll be out of your feathers forever."

He looked away, deliberating. After a pained breath, he rose to his feet. "Fine."

I smiled a wolfish smile. "Excellent."

With that taken care of, the harpies got to work. First, they put together a little ceremony for Lix. I wasn't welcome, naturally, but I watched from a distance to make sure they didn't try and depart without me. After that, the pirates set to preparing their one-time airship, which bore the somewhat cheesy name Soul of Adventure. Although they were still visibly upset, primarily at me, Celaeno and the others got the job done, performing every task to my satisfaction.

Once I'd personally doublechecked the hold contained enough provisions for the journey and that the four of them were in position on deck, I took the helm, my fingers settling into familiar positions on this new wheel's handles. "Alright, cut the moorings! Set sail for Equestria!"
> Chapter {3}
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Less than a day had passed since we departed from Saddle Arabia, and I still stood at the helm of Celaeno's ship. I didn't know her name, only that she cut through the air with ease, high above the ocean. The thin atmosphere left me slightly short of breath, but this was a small price to pay for speed. Below, gaps in the cloud cover revealed a deep blue surface that roiled with waves as it was pelted by scattered rains. While a far cry from the strongest storm I'd seen, it still would have been treacherous to navigate. Not even the pegasi could tame the skies this far from shore. Which made the hubris of one who had claimed dominion over such forces readily obvious. And any who had served him were even greater failures. Such thoughtless brigands as this 'Tempest' needed to be taught their place.

And so I sailed, that thought ever burning in the back of my mind as I maintained course and watched the harpies, enchanted gasbag overhead. Again, this was their ship, and they mostly knew what to do better than I did. They needed motivating, of course, since their hearts weren't in it, but providing that much was second nature. Without the occasional barked command, they would slowly begin to sulk about, avian faces visibly contorted; Celaeno's in grief, Boyle's in anger, Mullet's in regret, and Squabble's in resignation. Otherwise, the four rarely spoke.

Time passed, the sun steadily lowering to where I could see it, its light shifted the colors of the heavens. Eventually, a sudden exclamation snapped me into full alertness. "Land ho!"

It was Boyle, pointing with a feathered hand into the distance. I looked across the bow, squinting against the glare reflecting off the water. Yes, there was indeed a tiny speck of brown on the horizon. Excellent. Skyships really did make great time.

"Prepare for descent!" I shouted. 

"Aye..." 

After that unenthusiastic acknowledgement, my crew complied, checking and readying various lines for use. Where exactly we were coming in was irrelevant. It was the right continent, and as good a starting point as any, given that my target could be anywhere.

As the details of the coastline slowly became clearer in my vision, I began to hear steps of alternating pitch drawing close. A quick sidelong glance confirmed it was indeed Celaeno. She stopped next to me, mouth set in a pensive line. "Even if I told you she's changed for the better, you wouldn't believe me, would you?"

Realizing to whom she was referring, I scowled. "No. I will face her, and judge for myself."

"You're really that stubborn, huh?"

At this, I huffed, stating the obvious. "I am a Minotaur."

Celaeno sighed. "I suppose that sums it up nicely."

Not quite. She couldn't understand, but I would elaborate anyway. First, though, while I had her talking, I needed to ask Celaeno the most important question I had yet to bother with, as the answer would be relevant. "Who exactly is Tempest Shadow? Her race, her appearance."

She paused, the question unexpected. "Oh. She's a unicorn. A bit tall, purple, with a red mane."

"A unicorn," I repeated, spitting onto the deck. "More despicable than I expected." 

Celaeno blinked at him. "Huh?"

The wood of the wheel cut into my palms as my grip tightened. "My people knew the truth. That each choice we make is difficult and precious. To choose the path of a killer, intentionally, when your homeland is so peaceful and ripe with opportunity... that is the greatest evidence of a foul heart. Even paved over, that heart would remain."

If it has all the goodness squeezed out of it under the weight of all the world's sorrows, that's different. But Celaeno had likely already figured something close to that applied to me. So, I kept silent, and so did she. Eventually, Celaeno stepped away, leaving me once more alone on the bridge.

The land before us grew steadily closer as I continued to steer us in, its rocky coastline a volcanic red. Soon, steering became unnecessary, as the winds stilled. I could make out a few islands a short ways off from the mainland, one jutting high into the air more like a spike than a mountain. What I couldn't see were any obvious signs of a settlement. I growled out a curse. Odds are we wouldn't be stopping here, and would have to travel further to find anyone who'd seen Ms. Shadow.

Hinges squeaking, Mullet emerged from belowdecks before turning to face me, concerned. "Angrath? I've been looking at the charts, and... this course you put us on. It was fast, but... there might be a problem." 

Of course he couldn't just spit it out. Where was the crass attitude? Pirates generally never bothered with tact. Oh, right, he's probably afraid of how I'd react. Never mind. I bounded down from my spot to his. He flinched as my nostrils flared. "Show me."

"Uh, sure," Mullet said.

However, before I had even gotten a chance to move, a piercing squawk of alarm rang out. It was Squabble, pointing diagonally downwards below the edge of the ship, at the large island. There, a grey shape visibly twisted through the air, appearing to grow as it headed straight for us.

Spinning to face Squabble, Boyle and Mullet's eyes widened with shock. Celaeno's face paled. "Evasive action!" she shouted.

But I was already moving, sprinting to the wooden rigging. Climbing swiftly up the worn beams, I reached the base of the balloon, and didn't hesitate to slash through the fabric with a jerk of my head, my horn doing its job. Then, I shoved a hand through the escaping jet of air, and, with all the magic I could muster, fired a searing blast of pure heat inside.

The results were, thankfully, immediate. With a lurch, the skyship rose upwards, ascending rapidly. The boulder, more massive than any cannonball, just barely clipped the hull at the top of its arc before careening away.

Celaeno, not even halfway to the wheel, stared with a slack-jawed expression. The others too.

"Look alive, ladies," I said, cutting off my spell. "There's probably more where that came from. Let's get this thing grounded."

Shaking themselves out of their shocked stupor, the harpies resumed their actions, Celaeno breaking for the helm as Boyle and Mullet unzipped the actual releases on either side. With the magically lightened air escaping with a prolonged whoosh from three places, I stayed put, hanging on as the ship fell. There were a few more stones launched our way, but they were cleared easily, aimed for where we had been high overhead.

The ensuing landing into the sea was a hard one, sending a jolt through my limbs with a resounding splash that kicked up great swells. The rocking of the ship settled at the same time as my adrenaline did.

"Well, that sure was close," said Boyle as he pulled himself upright. He'd been knocked on his ass by the impact, his sea legs not up to snuff.

"Yeah," admitted Celaeno. Her gaze shifted onto me. If I didn't know any better, I'd say she was impressed, as opposed to merely grateful I hadn't gotten her killed. 

"Dragonlands," said Mullet abruptly, breathless. "We're probably in the Dragonlands."

I released my grip, dropping back to the deck. "Now you tell me."

Mullet cringed, taking a shaky step back.

I rolled my eyes. "I won't punish you for talking too much. Even so, the real issue is that dragons generally don't attack by throwing rocks. They're like dinosaurs, really, but smarter and lazier."

Boyle cocked an eyebrow. "What's a dinosaur?"

"Never mind," I said. 

Squabble cawed again, less loudly but still alarmed, as he suddenly gestured past the bow. His dramatic pointing game was on point today, as there was indeed something else to worry about: the two winged shapes approaching from the mainland.

"Besides, it looks like we do have dragons to deal with now," I added.

With a gesture from Celaeno, the other harpies formed up by her side. As the ship slowly drifted towards the shore, the pair of airborne silhouettes headed straight for it. Since I was the acting captain, and probably the most well-prepared to parley with dragons, I marched forwards to meet them.

The dragon in the lead, or dragoness now that she was close enough to see clearly, had light blue scales, horns that curved down past her cheeks, and was surprisingly small, not even as tall as I was. Behind her flew a much larger, adult dragon, with scales an emerald green, who remained hovering at a distance. Once she'd reached us, she landed on the ship mere paces away, shaking her head in disbelief. "You guys must be crazy."

"Crazy, no," I said. "A bit reckless? Definitely."

She snorted a puff of smoke, crossing her arms. "I see that. We rarely get travelers here, and the ones we do get aren't stupid enough to try flying through slingtail territory."

Slingtail? Those must be what attacked the ship. "Well, how kind of you to check up on us, miss..."

"Ember. Dragon Lord Ember," she replied, looking up to meet my eyes. "When old Slasher back there spotted you, I was expecting to comb through wreckage for treasure, not get bogged greeting more new faces. Friendship is great and all, but it's still exhausting."

The Dragon Lord at such a young age? I'd better stick to talk, then. I'm probably harder to incinerate than the average creature, but why take any chances? "I guess you underestimated us."

"Heh, I guess I did," she admitted. Taking a breath, she rested a clawed hand on her hip. "So, what brings you here?"

Straight to business, I like it. "I'm looking for someone by the name of Tempest Shadow. Purple unicorn, red mane."

Ember paused, considering. "Why?"

Memories of bloodied weapons, long since dried, and fields of naught but rubble returned unbidden. I narrowed my eyes. "She owes me a debt."

"You look serious," she noted, staring. Then, she sighed. "Yeah, I've seen her. Or, at least, my dad did. Apparently spun this whole story about a dead king and then immediately booked it." Here, Ember groaned. "She apparently mistook him for me."

I could scarcely believe it. My mind whirled, thrilled by the prospect of retribution within reach. Unable to restrain myself I leaned in closer. "Where? When?"

"Easy there," she said, pushing me with a claw back out of her personal space before clearing her throat. She was surprisingly strong for her size. "The pony you're looking for left for the Badlands two days ago. I don't know what you want with her and I don't really care. But don't blame me if you and yours do something else stupid and piss off the pony princesses in the process."

That was exactly what I needed, plus a wise promise not to interfere. A genuine smile crossed my face. Ember was clearly in power for a reason. "I won't. Thank you very much, Lord Ember."

"No problem. If any of my subjects try harassing you while you're here, let me know, alright?"

"I will." Nodding firmly, Ember took back to the skies, returning with her fellow.

I turned back to the harpies, who had been watching the conversation silently. "Alright, then. Don't just stand there, we're still taking her to shore!" I ordered with a sweeping gesture.

"Oh. Yes," said Mullet. "We'll get on that."

Everyone resumed their positions, including myself. I started to steer us in, as close as the seabed would allow. But Boyle looked hesitant, turning to speak quietly with Celaeno as they manned the sails. "I'm not sure if this is good news or bad news."

Celaeno pursed her beak. "Neither am I, Boyle. Neither am I."

"Of course it's good news!" I interjected. "Don't you want me gone? And this boat back?"

Boyle growled in my direction. "Well, yeah, but..."

Celaeno put a hand on his shoulder, cutting him off before he could say anything further. I still knew what he meant to say. "But nothing," I said. "She's mine. And I won't hesitate to go though the lot of you if need be. Or even use you as weapons," I added, setting my eyes and horns aglow for emphasis.

"Right," Boyle muttered, head bowed low.

"As long as we understand eachother," I said. A moment later, I deemed that the ship was in position, and spun to Squabble. "Weigh anchor!"

He complied, the clatter of heavy links spooling outwards and the splash of metal crashing into the brine clearly audible. From then on, the rest of the day proceeded in relative uneventfulness. The harpies and I ate dinner separately, them not wanting my company nor I theirs. Then, I had them set about to repairing the hole I'd made in the gasbag, as I didn't know how.

No dragons attempted to accost us, which was a good thing on paper, but less so in practice. Without the distractions provided by potential threats, sentient or otherwise, and no duties on the vessel to keep my mind occupied, my thoughts inevitably returned to pain and vengeance. Like a golem, was I, animated solely to torture and kill, all other purpose lost, the same visions and emotions building over and over in my head. The ache in my chest smoldered, and would only be sated once my steel had been bathed in the blood of the one behind it all, or the closest I could get. 

I took Celaeno's quarters without guilt, barring the door from the inside with one of my chains. Sleep came slowly, fitfully. I dreamt of roiling fire and rent flesh. Whose, I couldn't say.





The Badlands were less inhospitable than their name would suggest. Here and there, patches of greenery sprung up from the dry, cracked earth, flowers and grass crowding around saplings. No fully grown trees, though. Why? I couldn't care less. I leaned against the railing at the very frontmost edge of the bow, scanning the wilderness for anything that moved through a brass scope, my other eye shut tight. 

There wasn't a road to follow, or even a path, so Celaeno, at my direction, flew in straight line. Even if I missed Tempest on the first pass, I could still easily cut her off by arriving at her destination before she did. I was on the hunt, and there would be no escape for my chosen bounty short of death.

I was glued to my work for hours, scanning the earth from on high like a deity preparing to enact merciless judgement on the wicked. I wasn't so conceited to fancy myself a god: I'd seen too much, been too helpless. But otherwise, the comparison was apt, I thought.

But, when I spied a violet, four-legged frame plodding along in the distance, I couldn't suppress a jolt of ice running down my spine. The ice gave way to boiling hatred instantly. I couldn't make out all the details, but she was definitely a pony, and she wore armor. This was the orchestrator of my sorrow.

The scope crumpled like a tin can in my vice-like grip, fist shaking, glass shattering within. I whirled around, bellowing to Celaeno. "Ten degrees to starboard! I've found her at last."

Celaeno shut her eyes for a second, processing, before nudging the wheel to the right. Neither Mullet or Squabble could meet my eyes. Boyle opened his mouth as if to say something, but thought better of it.

I waited, anticipation building along with a blinding animosity. Muscles coiling in preparation, I remained motionless as the ship approached, turning as it descended. Tempest had noticed, at first not doing anything save stay her methodical course, but once my intentions became clear, she stopped, eyes squinting to meet mine. Time seemed to stand still as we scrutinized eachother. Tempest was tall for a unicorn, scarred, and her horn had broken off, probably lodged inside some poor bastard's gut. She wore weathered saddlebags over her armor, which was steel grey. Not the metal, but actually painted over in that color. Probably to hide the stains.

The airship came to a stop about ten feet above the ground, and I leapt over the side of the ship, kicking up a cloud of dust as I landed into a crouch. Then, I stood, brushing myself off, and stared her down. "Are you Tempest Shadow?"

She returned my gaze, apprehensive. "Well, I go by Fizzlepop now, but yes. Didn't Celaeno tell you? That is her ship you just flew in on."

I turned back and up. "Your work is finished! Leave!" I shouted.

"Wait, they aren't coming down to say hi?" Tempest asked.

But I did not need answer such a stupid question. They left, the ship rising once more, as I squared my full focus upon Tempest. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Squabble poking his head out, looking between us with a deep frown. Then, they were gone, and all was quiet.

Tempest tapped her hoof impatiently. "Ok, seriously, what is this about?"

What composure I had remaining was swept away. I roared, the heat in my core made manifest by my magic, horns and eyes flaring with the energy of a forge. Tempest stepped back in surprise.

I drew my weapons, twin chains unwinding at my sides. "My people! My children! For that which was taken, you will burn! Or my name isn't Angrath!"

The shock on her face grew, but she nevertheless stood her ground, adopting a bent-kneed ready stance. Sparks jumped from the stump of her horn, and her eyes narrowed. "You want a fight, eh? I've been told those are bad, but if you're the one offering, I'll gladly reciprocate."

Nobody moved. Nobody blinked. It was me and her, each waiting for the other to make the first move. I could not afford to fail, years of pent up emotions channeled into my mind and body. There was a soft crunch as a tumbleweed rolled past on the wind. The light of the sun laid bare everything.

I charged, hooves scraping divots from the earth. The chain in my left hand whipped towards her from the side, the metal shimmering from waves of heat. Tempest deftly leapt into and over my swing, an arc of blue lightning flying from her horn stump. "Enlighten me. What exactly did I do to get you so ticked off? You're the first minotaur I've met."

The lightning, imbued with magic, was far deadlier than the natural kind, not just seeking the fastest path to the ground. But at the same time, it moved slowly enough to dodge, and I twisted to the side, avoiding electrocution. "Your king's army exterminated my race!"

My other chain was already baring down onto her position from above. Tempest ducked, dropping into a roll as my chain struck where she'd been standing with a crash. "Well, if he did, I wasn't there. Wouldn't put it past the bastard, though."

I kept the momentum of my first chain going, spinning it overhead to build more speed before I whipped it at her again. But she was too fast, and jumped high into the air on surprisingly strong legs. "So, you joined him in his conquests anyway!"

With another surge of magic, Tempest leaned her head down at the apex of her jump and shot out a small ball of energy. Bracing myself, I crouched, shielding my face with an arm just as the ball exploded with concussive force. A weaker warrior would have been knocked on his ass, but I barely flinched, skidding backwards slightly. Still, her ranged attacks were more precise than mine. With her agility, I'd have to get up close and personal to have a shot. Fine by me; that gave me the chance to feel her break. 

I pivoted to face her as she landed behind me, the air crackling as she charged another blast of lightning. “I only worked for him to get back what I lost!”

Dropping both of my chains, I broke into a sprint, rushing in headlong. Tempest's lightning whizzed directly for my torso, but I was ready. As it struck, I pushed the magic inside my body against it, a battle rage spell blocking out the pain and preventing my muscles from seizing up under the electrical onslaught. It still did a number on me, of course, but for now the damage was irrelevant. I howled in defiance. “Some things, once they’re lost, are gone forever!”

And then I was on her, fists blazing with heat. I came in low, aiming for her chest as I threw a straight punch with all my momentum behind it. However, she sidestepped, jabbing an armored forehoof against the side of my knee to trip me up. But I had anticipated that, and the back of my other fist slammed forcefully into her cheek. As I fell onto my side, Tempest staggered back, grunting in pain at the fresh, charred bruise.

With a snarl, I righted myself and dove again, aiming an overhead blow with both hands. With unusual calmness, Tempest ducked her head and widened her stance, my fists only denting her armor. As I pulled my arms in to try and wrap my fingers around her neck, she brought up her hooves to knock them away. "But aren't we the same? I couldn't get my horn back."

Instead of her neck, my grip closed around her legs, and we grappled, each desperately trying to wrench the other off balance. Face to face, I glared with raw contempt into her eyes as my hooves dug into the dry ground opposite hers, straining and heaving. Somehow, Tempest's strength matched my own, and we found ourselves in a deadlock.

What she'd just said, though was even more infuriating than my inability to overpower her. I had never heard a more ridiculous, impossible statement. "No! I am a beast; you are a monster."

Tempest pursed her lips, breathing heavily through her nose as she redoubled her efforts. "Then I guess you won't object if I put you down."

"Too late for that, bitch." Funneling all my magic into my hands, the metal of her hoofboots, already rather hot, turned a molten red as it softened beneath my fingers, squeezed against her coat and the skin beneath. She screamed in agony, the sound delightful music to my ears. As her strength slipped away, her rear legs gave out and she collapsed.

Pinning one of her arms, I moved my other hand to the top of her skull, using the leverage of my position to slam her face into the dirt with a sharp smack. And again, and again. She was suffering, moaning and wailing in pain as her teeth chipped and her nose bled, and it was all I could do not to laugh. This was everything I had wanted, but it still wasn't enough. I could break a bone or burn a patch of flesh for every life taken, every second lost, but her suffering would still pale to mine. I would not, could not stop!

Desperate, Tempest poured all she had into a continuous shower of lightning from point blank. As I held her down, the mighty arcs of electricity danced upwards, into my arms, my stomach, my face. They seared through my flesh, overwhelming my magic's ability to completely resist. My nerves throbbed beneath my skin like a thousand tiny ripjaw raptors were shredding them, but I held on until Tempest's spell died out, my hold on her never loosening.

Wholly giving into my bloodlust, and eager to hear more of her screams, I swung my body over, straddling her back to further ensure she couldn't escape. As she clenched her mouth shut to stifle a pained whimper, I reached for the hammer on my belt, its weight holding great promise. Tempest twisted her neck to peek up at me with one eye, her pupil narrowing in dread as I raised my hammer overhead. "Please, don't!" she pleaded, to no avail.

Letting loose a primal bellow, I swung. There was a sharp snap as the bones in her arm were shattered. Tempest wailed in pain, tears welling up from her eyes. Yes, good. I raised my hammer again, prepared to systematically smash every part of her into pulp. But she spoke again. "Y-You said you had kids. What... would they think of this? If they saw you now?"

I knelt on the floor in anticipation, familiar scents bringing a smile to my face. Giggles echoed from down the hall as my little girls scampered into the room. "Dad!" Argent exclaimed, running headlong into my outstretched arms. Golden rounded the corner soon after, nestling herself against my chest. I pulled them both into a gentle hug.

"I've missed you two so much," I said, meaning every word. "Did your uncle do a good job protecting you? 'Cause if not, I owe him a talking to."

Golden shook her head. "We're fine. I'm so happy to see you, daddy. I missed you."

Argent poked her face up over my shoulder. "Yeah! What did you bring back from your trip? Is it as cool as that gold sparky-ball?"

"Mizzium sphere. And no, of course not. It's even better!" I ruffled her hair. "Only the best for my flesh and blood."

Golden sighed in appreciation. "You're always so nice."

Just as quickly as it came, the memory faded, and my consciousness returned to the present. I looked down at Tempest's bloodied face, then up at the hammer I was clenching with white-knuckled tightness. Oh, gods, what have I done?

I dropped the thing as if it was poisonous, the tool clattering to the ground as all the strength in my body seeped away like mist. I stood, scrambling off of Tempest - no, Fizzlepop - before collapsing to all fours. I sobbed openly, my breath hitching in my throat. I thought I had lived for them, but I was the fool all along, abandoning everything they once held dear. 

As I wept, Fizzlepop did not make a move. Rather than try to finish me off in my vulnerable state, she merely watched with an inscrutable expression. In that moment, I almost wished she would. But she did nothing but wait. Well, she'd have to be patient. I couldn't stop myself, my tears continuing to fall as all my anger wrung itself out.
> Chapter {4}
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

I had no idea how much time passed after that, gripped in the thrall of my own deepest emotions as my heart reforged itself. But eventually, my eyes ran dry, along with my magic. It was such a shocking contrast, being cold, being empty. Almost like I had been trapped in a nightmare, here and on Ixalan. Or maybe it was a dream, and this loneliness, this grief, was the reward bestowed upon me for my choices. 

Wrapped in burns and bruises that ached and stung, I crossed my legs under myself and sat, facing Fizzlepop. She, too, was in still in pain, her face scrunched up ever so slightly. Tough mare. She just kept staring. Who knew how long the both of us would have stayed like that, stubbornly frozen. But I had to ask.

"W-Why? Why didn't you kill me?" I croaked out.

It was a moment before she replied, her voice low and quiet. "I've been where you were. I was the same, I think, until recently. My experiences were... unpleasant."

Really? I glanced at the stump of her horn, the armor she still wore, harder than mine. Maybe that was so. "Still, I..."

"Yes, you tried to kill me just now. In brutal fashion," she said with a sigh. "I've done worse, and ponies forgave me anyway. They gave me a second chance; to work for a healthy solution. I thought I'd try and do the same for you."

I snorted. "No offense, but I'm fairly sure ponies are the exception. I've been to dozens of places you couldn't imagine, and none of them are like Equestria. Besides... revenge on you was all I had. There's nothing left of me," I said, my voice cracking.

Fizzlepop pursed her lips, studying me with intensity behind her eyes. "Death is the coward's way out," she eventually said. "If you have nothing else to do, come with me. Since you broke my leg, I'm gonna need help getting the rest of the way to the New Changeling Hive. Think of it as paying me back."

Well. I had no clue where exactly that was, but it didn't matter. She was right; it wasn't as if I had anything else to do. And I owed her, for bearing the brunt of my glorified tantrum. "Alright."

"Good," she said. "First things first."

Fizzlepop had some basic medical aid supplies in her bags. I pried off her half melted hoofboots, bandaged the tender flesh beneath, and splinted her leg with some dry wood from nearby. The only ointment she carried was a disinfectant, pointless for burns. So both of us had to bare with it. I didn't care enough to mind.

"Ok, come on," she said, the expression on her face too subtle for me to read. Was it kindness? Disappointment? 

We begun to move, Fizzlepop leading me through the evolving wilds. I kept my hand on the underside of the armor plate nearest her broken leg, keeping some off her weight off the limb as she limped along. But, really, she was the one propping me up, forcing me to press on and not just wallow in numbness.

As we methodically trudged forwards, I kept being pulled out of the present. This new lens, dim and thick, recolored my perceptions. When my wife died, I had others to share the burden. The days went by, and others, stronger than I, pulled me up, helped me move on. Much like now, but mentally. 

With my daughters, my old friends... I never got the chance to properly grieve. How could I? After fourteen years, I no longer truly knew who I would even be grieving for. They moved on with their lives while I was playing pirate in a box. 

Proper closure might still be possible. If I could find a priest, or a medium, anyone with spirit magic, I could at least see them one last time, apologize for everything. Though their warmth would still be gone, replaced by untouchable vapor. But Equus had very few who practiced anything close to necromancy. It would be a long shot. And even then, would it be healthy? Could I resist the temptation to keep them with me forever? Was I that selfish? No, it was all for them. But without them, who was I?

Musings like these bounced around in my skull over and over, drowning out the scenery, the sounds. I had fallen apart, and was metaphorically test fitting each of the pieces in every possible combination, trying to build something that functioned.

"Hey!"

I blinked. Looked down. Fizzlepop had stopped. If she was as exhausted as I felt, she didn't show it. She just gestured ahead. "As I said before, we're here."

"Oh," I said. 'Here' turned out to be a cluster of sharp grass-covered hills with a massive structure of blue stone in the center that was riddled with wide holes. I could just barely make out shapes milling around inside.

"I probably don't have to tell you this, but no sudden moves. And be... nice," she added. "I hear these folks can be a bit jumpy, and we aren't exactly unimposing."

I glanced at my scars, then at hers. "Yeah." 

As she steered me towards the entrance at the base, I tried to remember why exactly Fizzlepop wanted to come here. But, it was all blurred by a lingering miasma of hostile emotions. Realistically, I didn't even need to know. I could just stick to the back, keep quiet. But my curiosity got the better of me. "Uhh, remind me why we're here, again?" I asked.

"To let them know that they don't have to worry about the Storm King invading their lands anymore," she replied.

"Oh, right." I'd heard about that from Ember.

I kept my mouth shut for the rest of our approach. The foliage, while still nonuniform, grew more vibrant within the vicinity of the hollowed-out peak. I also got my first glimpse of its inhabitants just outside, some of them milling about on errands or just chatting with eachother in the sunlight. I was somewhat surprised to find that these changelings weren't actually blueish fey creatures with slitted yellow eyes, but rather looked like the product of some Simic biovat into which a pony, a beetle, and an assortment of paints had been dumped. I tried not to stare, but failed miserably. The changelings mirrored my own reaction, their compound eyes widening in confusion or fear. Fear for us, not from us.

One individual, purple and with extra horns, buzzed over to us rapidly almost the second he saw Fizzlepop and I. "You're hurt!" he exclaimed, noting our significant injuries, the blood still caked in our hair. "Is there a monster nearby? Or foreign invaders?"

Fizzlepop shook her head. "No, neither. The danger has passed."

I gulped down the dryness in my throat. "She... took care of it."

The tension drained out of the changeling's posture. "That's good. And it looks like you already patched yourselves up. I assume you're looking for shelter, then? I'm always happy to assist a fellow protector."

"A bed of straw would be nice, but I'm really here to deliver a message," Fizzlepop explained. "Are you the leader of this hive? Er, king, I guess?"

The changeling barked out a laugh. "No, pony, that would be my brother, Thorax. I can take you to him."

"That would be great, thanks," she said, sincerely appreciative.

Nodding, the horned changeling took over the duty of bracing Fizzlepop as he guided the pair of us into the hive. It was like a maze, but far less oppressive, with large rooms, no doors, and floral decorations.

"Didn't catch your names," our guide stated. "I'm Pharynx."

"Fizzlepop. It's a pleasure." 

I said nothing, unsure how to answer. I stared at Fizzlepop, wondering how she had adopted a new identity so easily, how she let go of the past so effortlessly. After waiting a few moments, Pharynx quirked a brow in my direction before shrugging with his wings. 

A few other changelings expressed concern for us as we climbed. Pharynx reassured them. Fizzlepop smiled at them, and it didn't even look forced. I could barely meet their eyes.

Passing tunnel after tunnel, We made it to the top floor, which opened itself to the sky. A tall, green changeling, presumably Thorax, sat on a wooden throne, munching on a plate of vegetables and reading a scroll that he held in his magic. Failing to notice our arrival, Pharynx coughed to get his attention. He jolted in his seat, choking down his food and pulling the scroll aside. "Oh, Pharynx!" He spotted Fizzlepop and I next. Mouth opening slightly, it looked like he had plenty of questions, but waited for Pharynx to speak. 

Pharynx took the cue, pointing at us. "Meet Fizzlepop and... this other quiet guy. Before you ask, yes, they're fine. Fizzlepop apparently has an important message for you."

After processing this, Thorax's countenance turned serious. "Alright, what's the message?"

Fizzlepop held her head high. "The Storm King has been defeated, his army scattered. The threat of his scourge will plague you no longer."

Thorax took a long blink. "Well, that sure sounds like good news, and vital to know, but... who?"

Fizzlepop's brow furrowed. "The Storm King? Came from the south, had a massive fleet of airships and the drive of a conqueror? Subjugated multiple countries?"

Thorax's head fins drooped. "Doesn't ring a bell. Until recently, most of us were only taught what we needed to know to blend in with ponies or do basic tasks around the hive. It's part of how Chrysalis controlled us."

Before I'd even realized I'd done it, I snorted in disbelief. Three pairs of eyes swiveled to meet mine. "What is it?" Thorax asked.

I laughed humorlessly. This just wasn't fair. "I'm sorry, your highness, I couldn't help it. It's just... you and your people are so lucky. You'd never even heard of the Storm King until he was already gone. Meanwhile, my entire race was almost totally wiped out by his attack, including my whole family. Didn't even get to say goodbye." 

As I blinked back a fresh set of tears, Pharynx bristled. Thorax gasped in shock. Fizzlepop's gaze whipped back and forth between the pair as Thorax jumped out of his throne to wrap me up in a sudden hug. It wasn't the least bit regal, or expected, but I didn't push him away. In that moment, Thorax looked more saddened by the facts than I was.

"I am so sorry," he said, sniffling. "I had no idea. I can't imagine what you must be going through."

Not quite sure what I was supposed to do, I patted Thorax lightly on the back. "That's a good thing. If you could, that would mean you're broken too."

"No, it isn't a good thing!" he exclaimed, pulling back to make eye contact. "It means I don't know how to help you."

I stared, quizzically. "And you want to help me." 

"Who wouldn't?" he declared.

"That's..." I trailed off, turning away. "You don't even know me. I might not be worth the effort."

"Don't say that," interjected Fizzlepop. "That's not a healthy way to think. At least let them try."

Thorax nodded, stepping away. I looked to Fizzlepop, her eyes imploring me to agree. I was pretty sure nothing would work, but I supposed it couldn't hurt.

"Actually," began Pharynx, "there's the old standby tactic, from when we preyed on ponies. Shapeshifting into a loved one of the target was always the best way of drawing that love to the surface, helping them feel better."

Thorax beamed in comprehension. "Oh yeah! One quick memory probe is all it would take!"

"How about it?" Pharynx asked me. "You want a chance to bid your family farewell?"

Once I'd fully realized what exactly was being offered, I froze, my joints locking. Wasn't this almost exactly what I'd been thinking about pursuing earlier? Better in some ways, too: Golden and Argent's rest wouldn't be disturbed, and there would be almost no risk of something going wrong. I could hold them both, cradle them in my arms one last time. If they were as good at their craft as I suspected, the changelings could even project what they would have looked like in the present, and try to copy their personalities. But...

The word was out of my mouth before my decision had fully registered. "No."

"No?" repeated Pharynx, questioning. "Are you sure? It can't be worse than nothing."

"But I already know I wouldn't really be speaking with my daughters," I said, my voice little more than a rough whisper as my chest felt as if it was gripped by a vice. "Regardless, my heart would pick out the difference." I had a realization, and it stung. "This time, I have no choice. I must move on, no matter how much it hurts."

Thorax stared, sympathy overflowing from his features. Pharynx pursed his lips as he spoke. "Well, you'd know better than I would. No it is."

Fizzlepop shuffled over to my side, resting a hoof against me with what tenderness she could. "Smart call. I'm no expert, but I pretty sure what you really need right now is a friend. Someone new to care about."

"That sounds nice, I guess. But where the hell would I find one?" I asked.

"Right here," Fizzlepop stated, matter-of-factly, as she gestured to herself. "You already have my respect, so might as well, right? Not sure I'll be any good, but I can try." Then, she spun back, extending her arm. "Fizzlepop Berrytwist."

Reintroductions? A tiny grin crept its way onto my face. I shook her hoof. "... Angled. Angled Wrath."

At this, she chuckled. "How creative you are. It is wrong that I like Angrath better?"

"Too soon, 'Tempest Shadow'," I said, half cringing, half smirking. 

At this, she shook her head. "Yeah, that's fair."

"Ahem. Sorry to interrupt your bonding moment, but I'm kinda busy," said Thorax. "It's getting late, and we have a bunch of guest chambers downstairs."

Fizzlepop inhaled sharply. "Right. Thanks for listening."

"It was no trouble, really," Thorax insisted. "One less thing to worry about!"

"Take care," added Pharynx, already rushing back to his post.

Acquiescing to Thorax's wishes, Fizzlepop and I wandered back below. I trailed behind her on autopilot, idly watching as she chatted with passing changelings for directions and asked questions to satisfy her own curiosity about the hive and their lives. She was surprisingly cordial, any apprehensive gazes replaced by interested ones once she begun interacting. 

Friendship. It was lifetimes ago when I last had one. Someone to just exist with, no chain of command to enforce, no ultimate objective to any interactions, no deeply ingrained bond of familial instinct. Merely being, learning, connecting, with another person. And Fizzlepop said she didn't mind starting a friendship with me. Angled, he of a dying race and horribly gruff social skills. Surely she had better options, like the nice ponies who changed her? Or even the nice folks here? I understood that it was for my sake, but still. Pity didn't make a good foundation for a relationship of any permanence.

When we got to our room, little more than two leafy beds with some carved shelves and a curtain of flowering vines in the middle, I asked her as much.

Fizzlepop hummed, sitting down and patting the floor, waiting to answer until I'd joined her. She answered my question with another question. "Why do you think I'm on this journey in the first place?"

"To make amends?" I answered, perplexed. "I thought it was obvious."

"That's part of it, yes," she confirmed. "But here's the thing. I don't belong in Equestria, not anymore," she said, a sort of forlorn wistfulness in her eyes. "I left when I was young and never looked back. Probably have more in common with you if I'm being honest."

"That can't be true," I stated, bluntly. We both knew how to fight and had done things we regretted, but that was about it, as far as I could tell.

"Oh, it is," she insisted. "On the surface, I'm a pony. I can talk to ponies, and act friendly. But being friendly is different from being friends. I grew up in a manner so far removed from how they did that I might as well be a manticore."

That was one way to put it. "I never did get that story. Something to do with the horn?" I asked.

Fizzlepop gave a single nod. Then, she paused to reflect a moment, planning out how exactly to put her thoughts into words before continuing. "Basically. My real reason for this half-baked messenger quest, and why I think we can be friends where I really couldn't with others, is that that experience shaped who I am now. I'm not just going to bury it all to reintegrate myself. That's not what Princess Twilight would suggest."

Meeting her gaze, I could see no doubt in her conviction. Me, though? "So, what, you want me to go with you? So we can help one another relearn friendship?" I turned away. "What happens if your journey ends before I've finished?" Flashes of my past sins bubbled just below the surface, things I could never take back.

"It won't," she said, firmly. "End, that is. It'll just change objective. You have no family? Well, neither do I. But there are a lot of innocent lives out there," she said, waving a hoof at the landscape beyond the window. "Lives like those we remember. Kind ones, from before we screwed up. I am going to atone, by making sure what happened to you won't happen again, Angled." 

"That's very noble of you," I said, apprehensive. "Nice sentiment though it is, it's still pretty unrealistic if you ask me. Tragedy will always strike, because people will always make mistakes. And you can't be everywhere at once, even if you could solve every conflict you stumbled across, save every life."

She remained firm, her route chosen. "No, but that doesn't mean it's not worth trying anyway, especially together. We can put what we know to better use, as comrades. Use our might to protect, instead of destroy. Ponies, minotaurs, not everyone can be a warrior. The two of us can fight the battles that they never could."

I found myself unable to look away from her intense eyes. She had all the enthusiasm of a righteous knight, the kind that threw themselves into harms way without regard for their own safety. No way I could pull that off in a million years, not burdened by the weight of cynical years. Still, most of those paladin types had orders. Fizzlepop, like me, had no one. I've already watched too many waste themselves. And honestly, I probably needed her support more than she needed mine.

I sighed, anticipating the quiet days to come between. "I'm no hero. But I can definitely try to be your friend."

Fizzlepop beamed. "I... same."

That evening became our first of many together, the two of us wasting idle hours talking about unimportant things. No urgency, no crisis to avert, at least for now. I'd practically forgotten how it felt to be relaxed, but my time in that weird little room made by giant bugs brought on the return of feelings once eroded. It was like taking a breath of fresh air after being carried along the bottom of a murky river.

There would be more hard times to come later, I knew with certainty. Fizzlepop would seek out danger at every turn, and I would follow. More lives would end, even with my best efforts. Darker parts of my soul might resurface. But now, I wouldn't have to face them alone.