> The Swordmaiden
>  by Shinzakura
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Remember Me to One Who Lives There
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The rain outside fell in buckets, the night sky so dark and lightless that the only illumination came from the occasional jags of lightning. Up in the sky the storm was so powerful and uncontrolled the local weather station had dissuaded any weather pegasi from even trying to deal with the storm.  After all, weather fronts that came from the ocean were natural occurrences and thus not a part of Equestria’s normal design, and thus they had the ability to be so overwhelming that not even the heartiest of pegasi could survive.

The residents of Windswept knew this.  The town was named after a pegasus that, centuries ago, had given her life to push away one particularly deadly storm from the area. Since then, however, whenever oceanic squalls came in, the general rule observed by the town was: hunker down and hope for the best.  Over the years, military-grade defensive spells were set up by the Mage Guild to protect the village from the lightning strikes and most of the time this succeeded, though there was still some burnt out remains of unlucky homes that showed what happened when the blasts of plasma from above were too powerful even for the magical wards.

It was therefore unthinkable that any living being would be out when squalls came over Windswept.  No pony in their right mind would dare to approach the area, much less enter the town.  The shields protected things for the most part, but even then, just walking through the main thoroughfare and into any of the buildings was taking a needless risk.

So needless to say, it was strange and attention-grabbing that a cloaked figure walked into Wild Whiskey’s bar.  As for Wild himself, he paid the figure no mind, as they had been here before.  Ignoring the other barflies on the way in, the figure sat down at a table in the far end of the building, partially obscured by the dark and a perfect place to hide.  To hide from what, of course, was the question.

Wild walked over, a tankard carefully balanced on his back. “I figured you would want this,” he told the figure.  Said individual reached over and took it in an armored glove mostly obscured by the muddy-brown cloak, and a second later, returned a coin to pay for it.  It wasn’t a bit coin, which was Equestria’s currency, but it was clearly made of a valuable metal, so it was acceptable. Besides, it wasn’t the first time the stranger had paid with foreign money and it likely wouldn’t be the last.

“Want to talk about it?” he asked.

“Non, je préférerais pas.”  The response came deliberate and halting, and in Prench.  From what Wild knew, that wasn’t the speaker’s native language.  He wasn’t even sure that Equish was that person’s native language, either.  One time – and only once – the response had come in the kind of Equish that was dated back from the days of the Warring States Era, as if it were more akin to something spoken by Queen Platinum or Princess Luna back before she started modernizing her speech.

He paid it no mind, of course; the stranger was a customer and customers needed to be taken care of.  “Care for the usual?”

“Je ne m’attends pas à être ici longtemps,” was the response, and Wild was glad that his wife was from Pearis, as it was the only way he had any clue as to what the figure was speaking.

“Well, I won’t disturb you further,” he told her.  “If you’re hungry, we have a corn and potato chowder the wife just made and you’re welcome to it.  Likewise, the special room is ready for you.”

“Je suis plus préoccupé par les autres présents.”

“Don’t lose sleep over them.  Most of them are regulars, and you know that everypony here will keep confidence. Sure, there’s a few new folks, but I’m sure Bigstomp’ll just stare them into silence, so don’t you fret.”

“Les secrets sont mieux gardés quand personne ne sait qu’ils existent.”

Wild said nothing further except to nod and depart, leaving the figure alone in the dimness.


After a few minutes, a second figure walked in from the rain, shaking herself off.  The second figure then removed her cloak, revealing a unicorn mare.  Her deep blue cloak drew a contrast with the cream of her coat, lavender mane and leafy-green eyes that seemed quick with a smile.  She looked at Wild briefly before heading over to the corner where the first figure sat.  

A minute after the unicorn sat down across from the stranger, Wild came over with two steaming bowls of chowder, as well as some freshly baked bread, with sides of clotted butter and honey in a jar.  “From my wife,” he explained.  “Watercress insisted.  Said neither of you two take care of yourselves.”

“Figures she would say that.  Well, please inform her that in the Divine Name of Sacred Celestia and our goddesses, we appreciate the gesture.  Blessings be upon you.”  

“She figured you’d say that, too and told me to tell you, quote, ‘Forget the blessings and just take care of yourself, dear cousin,’ unquote.”

The unicorn laughed.  “She worries too much, you know that?  But thank her for me, Wild.  Really.”

“I will,” Wild promised, then left the two to their own devices.

That done, the unicorn turned back to other present.  “Thank you for taking the time to meet with me, Blessed Blade,” she spoke.

“Tu sais que je déteste ce terme.”

“And you know I don’t speak Prench, or whatever you call it in the place where you are from.  French, I believe you called it?  And would you be so kind as to remove your cloak?  You know we are safe here and none would dare to say a thing.”

“Fine, Sister Veronica, if ‘t be true t’ maketh thee comfortable.” The figure finally removed the hood, revealing a face of a creature that none believed existed: a human.  With a long, blonde mane and furless skin, she looked unnatural, and this was made all the more so when one looked at her piercing blue eyes.  Several in the bar looked at her in disbelief, only for a big dark brown goliath of an earth stallion to stand up and stare at them.  Sure enough, they backed down and the stallion in question looked at the human with a knowing smile before turning back to his drink.

The woman nodded in silent thanks to the stallion before silently turning back to Veronica.  “Alloweth us receipt with this.  Thither is tasks to do,” she stated.

Veronica, a member of the Church of the Alicorns, smiled gently and adjusted her glasses.  She had been given the special mission on behalf of the Mother Superior, a mission that was of such world-shattering importance, that it was rumored that not even her Divine Majesty, Princess Celestia, was aware of it.  That had been years ago, and in that time, Veronica had been exposed to a world well beyond the bounds of the veronica gardens she tended and that were her namesake.  “Please, let us just eat as companions and friends before we get on to work.  As Sacred Luna states, ‘we must hear the moon and its melodies if we are to be at peace’.”

“I am content with yond.  Mine own road is a lonely one enow,” the human spoke.  

The two ate in silence for a while, enjoying the silent companionship save for the steady staccato patter of the rainstorm lashing against the walls of the structure.  Finally, the woman finished her meal, and transparent amber liquid dripped from her lips. The wooden mug clattered on the table, the hollow ring signaling its contents were cleared.  Pushing her hair back, the woman asked, “Anon then, bid me what is request’d of me by the Church?  Praytell, what would thee has’t me perform?”

At that, Veronica reached into her sidesaddle and withdrew a set of papers and a map.  “The daughter of a prominent noblepony was captured by one of the few remnants of the Armies of Tirek under the command of a mysterious individual who calls herself the Thorn Witch.  Lord Discord states that they have prepared for him and moved into Umberfoal at the south of Equus, well past the Bearless Circle and close to the South Pole.  He states that even he cannot go there and though we do not trust him, we are bid to do what we are told.  We do not know why the Witch has captured that filly, but we believe that it may involve foal sacrifice.”  

“Wherefore the murder of a mewling?  Hast any reason been given?”

“None, though Lord Discord believes it may be due to a resurrection ritual for Tirek.  Her Magnificence, Princess Twilight, however, thinks it may be due to a chance to resurrect a demon from another world.  In any case, Sacred Luna has ordered us to send a troop of Church knights to hunt them down, as the Remnant will be expecting the other military forces.”

“And so thy plan is to venture me in their stead?”

“Your existence is one of the highest secrets of the world, Blessed Blade of Faust,” the cleric said solemnly.  “And because of who you serve, your skills are unparalleled by any, save for her Divine Majesty herself.”

The woman shook her head.  “No, ‘tis untrue.  I have heard rumors that Her Majesty’s granddaught’r is e’en more pow’rful than I.”

“She…she is dead.  Lady Sunset is no more.”  The look of shock came over the warrior’s face, and an equal look of sorrow came over Veronica’s own.  “This is why winter has come early, why the weather is out of control and why the shadows grow bolder.  Her Holy Highness is in mourning and so the world mourns with her.  And we do not know the details, we only have the word from the alicorns that Lady Sunset’s death has occurred.”

“I…see.”

“But as I said, all of Equestria’s heroes are either dealing with this unnatural winter or are elsewise engaged with the remainder of that damnable centaur’s forces.  This is why it must be you, Blessed Blade.  Find and rescue the filly before the Thorn Witch raises an otherworldly creature to destroy us all.  As a cleric of the Church, I hate to say this, but even if you must kill the foal, you must do what it takes to protect our world.”

Blue eyes narrowed and hardened.  “I shall not slay the youth.  And ‘tis dangerous f’r thee to suggest such in mine own presence,” she hissed.

“I know, and I am sorry,” Veronica stated.  “But I want you to understand what is at stake here.  Lord Discord told Serene Cadance that even he fears what the Thorn Witch may draw from the blood of the filly.  What if they were to resurrect Tirek once more? Or worse?  You have seen what this last war has done.  I fear a second one would bring the windigos.”

The pair were silent for a moment.  “I shalt wend then,” the woman stated.  “Shouldst I expect assistance?”

“We are sending two of our bravest Church knights to go with you,” Veronica stated.  “One has even slain the vile Ahuizotl.  Furthermore, they are willing to keep silent of your existence, even if it means you must take their lives as well.”  Expecting another tongue lashing, she stated, “Forgive me, but—”

“I ken thy words.”  The woman rose from her seat.  “Have those folk join me in mine own cubiculo amorrow.  We hie th’ day after.”  Bowing before the cleric, she stated, “Fare thee well in my Queen’s name, good Sister.”

“And may Holy Celestia’s Grace smile upon you.”  The cleric rose from her seat as well and bowed. “All the world holds its breath for the success of the Megan.” 





That night, laying in a bed that was made for a minotaur and in nothing more than her undergarments, the Megan dreamed.

She dreamed of when she was nothing more than Megan, the daughter of a farmer under the protection of Lord Williams, he who in turn served under his majesty King Edward III.  Her father had been a knight and a sworn friend of Lord Williams and so she and her family enjoyed certain benefits the others didn’t.  They had been so close, in fact, that when her brother Daniel had become of age, Lord Williams took him as his personal squire.

But it all went to hell after that.  On her thirteenth birthday, she had found out that both Lord Williams and her father had died at the start of the war in the far-off fields of France. In the latter case, it had left her brother Daniel as head of the house, watching over their mother and their youngest sister, Molly.  In the former case, the lands of Lord Williams had no successor, and with King Edward desperate for new troops, he installed Williams’ bastard son, Liam as the new lord of the land.  That would turn out to be a critical mistake: Liam was known to all as “the Leprechaun”, both for his short and squat features and stature; and because of his mother, who was not Lord Williams’ wife, but instead an Irish serving girl that worked in the town pub.

Liam, raised spoiled and with no courtly manners, immediately moved to consolidate his power.  He declared that Megan would be his bride, and to ensure this, he sent Daniel off to the War.  For the longest time, Megan tried everything that she could do to push away the Leprechaun’s advances, but she was only a girl, and he was her rightful lord, as distasteful as it was – this he made clear, demanding she submit or else her family’s lands would be forfeit.  With no other recourse and to protect her mother and sister, she submitted, and he took her, leaving her screaming, bleeding and in pain.  She was now ruined: she could marry no other and now that he’d had his taste of her, the Leprechaun took no further interest in Megan.

That is, until a year later, when the Church arrived, searching for witchcraft and French spies – after all, weren’t they one and the same?  Claiming that Megan and Molly’s mother, a Frenchwoman that had given up her homeland for love, was one such individual, it put the family in immediate peril. Seeing a chance to further curry favor, the Leprechaun brokered a deal with the Church officials, and soon both Megan and her mother were found accused of witchcraft.  Molly, too young to understand what was going on, was found innocent and “out of respect for the friendship between their fathers”, she was placed under the wardship of the Leprechaun.  Given Lord Liam’s licentiousness, it was fairly clear what his designs for her were.

Megan and her mother tried to fight against the dark fate set against them, but to no avail.  Megan had been lucky: she had only had her hair shaven off, dressed in plain homespun and torture-dropped until she could barely move.  Her mother had been given the same and pressed to the point that she could not take the extra stones and died as a result.  It mattered little if Megan survived, as they declared her a witch regardless and so she would be put to the death in the traditional manner of the shire: to be disposed of in the western bogs, the so-called Land of the Moochiks.  The Moochiks were pagan creatures similar to the Green Man and were believed to be the protectors to the realm of Faerie.

“A fitting end to the witches, to be buried in pagan lands”, the Church officials had sneered, all the while ignoring Megan’s prayers and pleadings to God and Christ for this horror, this travesty to be ended.

And so, with the corpse of her dead mother tied to her, Megan was disposed as a witch, dropped in the bog with a stone tied around their ankles; it didn’t matter in any case, as a peasant girl, while she could read and write, swimming had never been part of the lessons.  And the last thing she recalled of her earthly life was the Leprechaun, sneering at her, his hand on her sister’s bosom, and Molly not even close to her first blood.  Would Daniel ever know of this treachery?  Would he even be able to avenge this?  Or was he now another rotting, forgotten corpse in their mother’s homeland, their family forgotten and betrayed by the son of the lord they held dear?

She gasped, took in swampwater, and breathed no more.


She woke up, sweating bullets, the sheets and her clothing soaked. Her “death” was a recurring nightmare for her, and something throughout all the millennia of her life, had never gone away.  Nor had the guilt and shame.

She knew that hadn’t been the end of her story, of course.  She had been found on the shores of the Crabby Crawdad Creek, a now-abandoned part of Equestria that once had been a thriving village by an equally now-dead river.  Not knowing what she was, the locals had buried her mother’s body and nursed her back to health, despite their fear of what was clearly a monster in their eyes.  The news of course had caught the attention of Queen Faust herself, who ventured to see what this “beast” was.  However, she had found a bright and inquisitive creature, one broken but whose hate-filled heart could be turned to good.

Because of her size, towering even larger than that of a minotaur; her quick wit and intelligence, which rivaled many of Faust’s scribes and sages; and her strength and agility, which rivaled all but the strongest earth ponies and nimblest pegasi and unicorns, the strange creature was chosen to be a knight in Queen Faust’s service.  Faust assigned her grandmaster of knights, Brambleton, to train the strange creature they called “the Megan”.  
In time, she even surpassed her master, saving Equestria during its war with the Griffon Kingdom and becoming the grandmaster of knights in her own right. It was then that she realized she had aged only a few years and by her guess had to be a lady of no more than twenty years, which made no sense, as by this time she had been in the service of her queen for a century.  Faust herself admitted that she knew not why either, but with such a loyal and faithful knight at her side, the realm would remain protected and prosperous.  

As time passed, both eventually learned why: Megan had become a Swordbearer, a being whose power and lifespan rivalled an alicorn.  But Megan knew she was no nemesis of her queen but instead, her dearest friend.  She and Faust had become confidantes, friends, trusted and sworn sisters in a sense, with a deep and unyielding bond as strong as her father had once had for Lord Williams.  And it was in this role that she had served faithfully through countless ages since.

She had seen the rise of Starswirl, a talented swordsstallion, one who had grown nearly as strong as she in magic. Sensing his abilities, she had taken him under her metaphorical wing as her squire and had trained him to be a grand knight and mage in good standing.  

She had seen the birth of Faust’s first child, Celestia, and had seen the bond between the then-aged Starswirl and the infant.  He had become the infant princess’ Swordbearer, and she could see the avuncular love he had for the filly.

She had witnessed the death of her faithful apprentice at the hooves of the Damned One, and whose mark she had left on that damnable creature in return.  Both she and Faust grieved at the loss of the talented mage and had vowed never to tell Celestia of what had become of her dearest Uncle Starswirl.

She witnessed the birth of Luna, and how Clover the Clever had sworn of dark times to come.  And they did: Faust’s ascension to the next plane of reality, leaving her infant daughters to fend for themselves in a world without a ruling alicorn.  How nobleponies had taken advantage of the two fillies and split the kingdom thricefold, creating new warlords that turned pony against pony for centuries.  How a monster from beyond came and took it all, and how the two young princesses had found ancient weapons of their mother’s creation and used it to reforge Equestria.  How a new Swordbearer, Bucephalus, rose to be at Luna’s side…and his horrific death, murdered by the betrayal of one he’d considered his closest friend.  The war between the two sisters and Luna’s possession by madness and subsequent banishment.  The centuries of loneliness that Celestia endured.

All of these things Megan blamed herself for.  She had agreed to Faust’s last request: to not interfere with ponydom, but to protect it from afar.  To fade into myth and legend and defend Equestria from the things that not even Celestia and Luna could.  And reluctantly, painfully, Megan agreed.  She loved Faust’s two fillies as if they were her own, and now she wasn’t sure if they even remembered her anymore.  In this day and age, her only contact to the world was through the Church of the Alicorns and in particular through one family: the Speedwell clan, of which Veronica and Watercress were two of the current members.

She had been alone now for centuries.  She never knew what happened to her family – either of them. And she wasn’t even sure she was human anymore; certainly, she had lived longer than Methuselah himself!

She undressed, looking at herself in the mirror, her naked body glistening in the flickering candlelight.  She had a body any man would want; Liam had raped her when she was but a girl, a bud barely close to blossoming, but now she was a beauty that would have made even King Edward’s own wife Queen Isabella green with envy!  Certainly, there had been enough pony clans (and even other species!) that had claimed she had taken one of their males as a lover and had offspring, but that had never been true.  She wasn’t sure if she even wanted that sort of thing anymore…or anything else, for that matter, other than to fulfill her vow to her liegelady and dearest friend.

Reaching into her bag, she withdrew a new pair of undergarments, then went into the shower.  Those few that knew her chided her for not living a “modern pony life” but that was impossible for her: for one, she wasn’t a pony.  Secondly, while she was adjusted to the ways of the modern world, her “Faustian-era Equish” notwithstanding, she felt that the modern vernacular was far too easily leaning towards deception and villainy, each phrase and syllable filled with falsehoods and caveats.  Let her speak honest and true, even if others had difficulties in understanding what it meant.  It would make them think more about their own speech that way.

After a quick shower and clothing herself in something other than her armor for a change, she went downstairs to converse with the two knights that would be going with her on this travail.  As it was, they would need to get used to her steed. 





Now dressed in a simple tunic and pants, the Megan looked across the table at her new companions.  The two were clearly dressed in the armor of Church knights, though they were from two different orders: an earth pony bearing the green and silver livery of the Order of the Dancing Hare, which specialized in paladin works and grand quests, while the unicorn was garbed in the turquoise and copper attire of the Order of the Flowing Ribbon, whose stock in trade was healing services and fighting evil curses and magic wherever it was found.  “Thou ken what this entails, doest thou not?”

The earth mare, a white coated beauty with a gold and amber mane, looked at her with blue eyes the same hue as her own.  “Are you for real?”

“Yond doest not matter if’t be true I am or not,” Megan told her evenly. “What doest matter is such: Art thou capable of what we must hie away and perform?”

“I…guess?  I don’t get your freaky-deaky Faustian-era stuff.  You’re like something out of a Spearshaker book I read when I was a schoolfilly!”

“Sundance!”  At the side of the earth mare the unicorn mare, pink with an ivory-and-purple mane, chided her fellow knight.  “That’s rude!”  Turning to Megan, she nodded her head.  “My apologies, Your Grace.  My companion here is what I like to refer to as ‘a dork’.  Anyway, I am Twilight Starfield and I will be serving as your magic assistance during this time.”  Gesturing to her friend, she added, “And she, of course, is Sundance, who is to be our heavy-hitter.”  A pause. “A dorky one, but a heavy hitter nonetheless.”

Sundance stuck her tongue out at her fellow pony.  “That’s not nice, Twila!”

“Dance, you just insulted a living legend.  She’s probably the most powerful being on Equus and you insulted her!” Twilight argued back.

“May I remind thee both while thou sittest hither and argue, a filly’s life is in peril?” Megan interjected.  That was enough to get both to stop, with Twilight sitting smugly in her chair and Sundance shading red from embarrassment.

“Sorry,” the earth mare muttered.

“‘Tis of bawbling import.  What is of matt’r is the life of this imperiled babe.  The Thorn Beldams hast that foal and her life shall be forfeit ‘lest we rescue her.  ‘Twill not be a simple task.  We wilt square the remainders of Tirek's terrible host and hie to a land whither nay pony hast ev’r been ere.  And I shall needeth thee to show brav’ry than any pony hast ev’r done. What sayeth thee?”

Sundance pulled out her sword, placing it on the table. “I am a knight of the Church, in Celestia’s Divine Name.  I stop all evil – I slew Ahuizotl and his minions during the war when he tried to take advantage of the chaos and I would do so again.  I am a battlemare bred to war in the name of our Divine Alicorns and this is what I do, milady,” she said with surprising seriousness.  “My sword is yours to command.”

Twilight looked at her as well.  “We will save that filly or die trying,” she stated.

“Thus shalt it be,” Megan told them. “Eft thyselves amorrow, f’r we depart at first light.  F’r anon, gather what supplies thee mayest require f’r the journey.”





“What is that?” Sundance asked, her jaw dropped.

Twilight, on the other hand, being a unicorn, had a more scholarly look on her face.  “Is that Fenrir?”

The two ponies looked at the giant brown and white wolf laying on the ground.  It had a saddle and tack and seemed to somehow serve as transportation for their strange companion.  “This be Dinah, mine own steadfast vanargand and the great-granddaughter of the legendary Fenrir,” Megan explained.  “Once I didst save Fenrir and his pack from a tatzlwurm; the vanargands serve as mine own steeds ev’r since.  They art cunning, brave and loyal and I couldst not call f’r a finer mount.”

“You ride that thing?” Sundance asked.

“Wouldst thou prefer I set tack and saddle upon thee? In the ordinary I cometh from, we ride ponies, not wolves.”

“Nope, sorry, I don’t wear a saddle without a first date,” Sundance replied casually.  “Besides, I don’t swing that way.  Twila does, though.”

Twilight facehoofed.  “Dance, leave my personal life out of this.”

“Just saying!  You know you got the hots for Bubbles, don’t deny it!”

“I said leave my personal life out of this!”

“Oh, c’mon, Twila!  Bubbles was just in the keep the other day telling us about how you wanted her to wear those lacy socks that turn you on and how she does that thing with her wings that—”  Sundance said no more as a silencing spell was immediately cast by the vexed unicorn.

Meanwhile, Dinah merely looked at her master as if to say, do we have to bring them along?

Megan laughed as she climbed into the saddle and patted Dinah’s flank.  “Tolerate those two, mine own loyal.  They art quite fartuous, but I am sure they shall mark chivalrous at which hour the time is of need.”

Sundance just looked at Megan.  “Did you just say I farted?  Seriously?”


With that, the trio went on, moving southwards towards their destination.  As they moved away from the shore, the frozen ground and heavy snows covered everything, which was odd, given that it was late summer.  The sky was an iron gray, and the sun, normally a bright shining daystar, was instead a pale, barely flickering orb slightly brighter than a firefly.

“An ill portent,” Megan said softly as the three moved on.  “Celestia mourns her issue’s death and the whole of everything cannot holp but be trailed ‘long with the sov’rign’s grief.  Would yond I couldst be thither f’r yond po’r broken Cellie.”

“I still can’t believe you knew Holy Celestia when she was in diapers,” Sundance stated with a bit of awe.

“Well, I spoke with somepony I know at the palace and they say that Princess Luna’s got her hooves full trying to run the country on her own,” Twilight told them, “and that the Bearers are running ragged trying to solve problems around the world.”

“You know somepony at the palace?” Sundance asked.

“Yeah, stallion by the name of Spare Rations, he’s a guard that I went to school with when we were foals,” Twilight explained. “He’s an old friend, so we talk often.”

“Just talk?”

“Yes, just talk. However, I always thought his sister was cute.”

Sundance grinned.  “Well, you’ll just have to introduce me to this stallion when we get back, right?”

“He’s married.”

Sundance pouted.  “Ponyfeathers,” she grunted.


The group moved on in silence until Megan started singing:

“Are you going to Scarborough Fair?
Parsley sage, rosemary and thyme;
Remember me to one who lives there,
For she was once a true love of mine

“Tell her to make me a cambric shirt,
Parsley sage, rosemary and thyme;
Without any seam or needlework,
Then she shall be a true love of mine

“Tell her to wash it in yonder well,
Parsley sage, rosemary and thyme;
Where never sprung water or rain ever fell,
And she shall be a true lover of mine

“Tell her to dry it on yonder thorn,
Parsley sage, rosemary and thyme;
Which never bore blossom since Adam was born,
Then she shall be a true lover of mine”

“That’s an interesting song,” Sundance commented. “I’ve never heard it before.”

“A ballad from mine own fusty home,” Megan explained.  “Yond is the part the gent – the stallion, I s’ppose – would cant.  ‘Tis about a cavalier s’parat’d from his fair love and the fulsome tasks they wilt undertake to reunite.  The song eke spake of the four values of chivalry: parsley tooketh hence bitterness, sage represents strength and wisdom, rosemary symbolizes memory and faithfulness and thyme wast f’r courage.”

“It sounds beautiful,” Twilight commented. “Is there more?”

“Aye, thither is the mistress’ response to his refrain.  Would thee like me to sing the second?”  When the ponies nodded, Megan began again.

“Now he has asked me questions three,
Parsley sage, rosemary and thyme;
I hope he’ll answer as many for me,
Before he shall be a true lover of mine

“Tell him to buy me an acre of land,
Parsley sage, rosemary and thyme;
Betwixt the saltwater and the sea sand,
Then he shall be a true love of mine

“Tell him to plough it with a ram’s horn,
Parsley sage, rosemary and thyme;
And sow it all over with one peppercorn,
And he shall be a true lover of mine

“Tell him to sheer’t with a sickle of leather,
Parsley sage, rosemary and thyme;
And bind it up with a peacock’s feather,
And he shall be a true lover of mine

“Tell him to thrash it on yonder wall,
Parsley sage, rosemary and thyme;
And never let one corn of it fall,
Then he shall be a true lover of mine

“When he has done and finished his work,
Parsley sage, rosemary and thyme;
Oh tell him to come and he’ll have his shirt,
And he shall be a true lover of mine”





Near the southern pole of the world, where the ice was thicker than walls and everything was a blasted frozen tundra, unnatural shapes gathered in the land known as Umberfoal.  Fearsome and full of hate, they represented some of the last of Tirek’s once mighty army – perhaps they were the last.  It mattered little, though, as soon they would commit to a course of action that would return their lord and master to the world and with that, they would be the masters of all once more.

In the central camp, a cyclops with jet black fur looked at the bleak landscape, his singular blood-red eye redder than normal from the howling winds around them.  “This has better work,” he growled.

“Patience, Spartoi,” a sinuous voice stated.  “All shall be restored to normal soon, and you will get your wish.”

“What wish?” a second, shorter cyclops snarled. “It is a demand!  Lord Tirek must be brought back to life, and our patience grows short, Witch!  You had be—gak!”  His words were suddenly cut off by a black vine wrapping around his neck, the thorns drawing blood.

“I don’t answer to you,” the Thorn Witch stated, her eyes a pair of endlessly deep black pits in which two pale pupils sat. “You would be wise to remember that, Telchine.”

Telchine reached for his sword.  “I will kill you for your mockery!” he gasped, both struggling with the vine growing tighter around his neck while trying to stab at her with his blade.

She sighed.  “I tire of this.”  She closed her eyes and the plundervine grew taut.  There was a snap and a death rattle, and a second later a sickening pop as Telchine’s head detached from his body.  Yellowish blood sprayed in the air, coating the immediate surroundings with the sign that the cyclops was now dead.  The Witch withdrew her vine and the decapitated body fell to the ground, jerking in spasms as a puddle of blood formed underneath it, the warm life fluid steaming and crystalizing in the frozen climate.

Spartoi wicked the blood of his fellow cyclops off him. “That was entirely unnecessary, Witch,” he told her coolly.  

“You need better followers, Spartoi,” she retorted. “Perhaps find some that will not challenge my power or authority?”

“Nonetheless, he had a point.  We captured that pony brat, and I have no idea why she is so damn important, other than you must sacrifice her.  It doesn’t take that long to gut a foal with a knife!  What are we waiting for?”

“We have a week still until Kincsem’s Comet passes overhead, and we need the trail of ambient magic that the comet brings with it to accomplish our goal.” the Witch told him.  “At the moment that happens, I can then kill the foal and use her blood to…well, you’ll see.  I promise you, it will be a result well worth your while.”

“It had better be.”

“Oh, it will.  Now, deploy the rest of your armies.  My last scrying tells me that a powerful force is headed to rescue her.”

“Like what?”

“Perhaps Discord has found a way to reach us. That pathetic fool is now completely under the teats of the alicorns, wretch that he is.”

“Hah!  Discord? As if.  Even he wouldn’t come here!  It’s too orderly for him, too pristine.  It’s pure anathema to him.  And the alicorns are tied up with whatever is happening in the world.  I’ve heard rumor that Princess Celestia has finally lost her mind and Princess Luna had to do to her sister what was once done to her.”

“Whether that’s true or not, they are not the only powers in the world,” the Witch reminded him.  “Recall that we fought the kitsune and the gargoyles as well, and they are hardly pushovers, either.  We must be wary.”  The two looked at each other, a small staring contest to see who would blink first, both literally, and metaphorically.

Finally, Spartoi nodded, blinking his eye. “Right.  I shall talk to my generals.  You check on that brat.”


The Witch moved across the ground, plundervines wrapping around her.  In a flash of sickly pale light she turned into a soft gray earth mare with a short black mane and hot pink eyes.  Slipping on fake hobbles, she walked into a makeshift building which served as shelter from the endless wind.  

Inside was bare comfort.  The skin of some unfortunate animal served as a rug, while a smoky fire ran.  In the corner was a magically-hewn cage made of granite, and inside that was a pegasus filly with a pale yellow coat and a lilac mane.  She shivered in the chill of the room; even with a blanket on her, the smoky fire wasn’t producing enough heat.

The “mare” tapped on the bars, waking up the filly. “You poor, poor thing,” she said in a soft voice.  “They caught you too, huh?” 

The filly looked at her with frightened eyes before seeing that it was another pony.  “I’m afraid,” she spoke.  “I want my mama.”

“I understand, sweetie,” the disguised Witch said in a sympathetic tone.  “I miss my foals as well.  I was taken from them, and I want to be with them again.  What’s your name?”

“Erroria,” the filly stated nervously.  “What’s yours?”

“It’s…Canticle,” the mare stated.  “As you can see, I’ve been put in hobbles because I’ve been forced to serve those nasty brutes that captured us.”

“But that’s not fair to you!” Erroria gasped.

“You’re right, but these are wicked villains. They don’t care what is fair or right, child.”

Erroria nodded as though hearing wisdom.  The intake of wisdom was immediately followed by the growling of her belly.  “I’m hungry,” she stated.

“I have to be careful, but I’ll see if I can get you some food, okay?  I’ll be right back.”  “Canticle” went to the far side of the room and came back with some hardtack and a bowl of water.  “It’s not much, but if I take any more they might notice,” she said, pushing the meal into Erroria’s cage.

“Okay.”  The filly gnawed at the hard biscuit, occasionally taking drinks from the bowl. After what seemed like a small eternity, she managed to finish the tasteless rations, then lay back down. “Will you…will you stay here with me?” Erroria asked.

“I…I can’t,” Canticle lied.  “If I do, the cyclopses might do something bad to me. They caught me just to use me for…well, a little filly like you doesn’t need to know that,” she said with a waver in her voice, shaking.

“The Bearers will come to save us,” Erroria stated, her voice unsure.  “Princess Twilight is brave and she won’t let anypony down.”

“I’m sure she’ll come to save us,” the Witch cooed, taking note of that name.  She had her own forces to draw upon and later she would call upon them to harry that alicorn’s forces.  Her plans could not be undone by anypony.  Not now, not ever.

But at the moment she needed to keep the filly calm and placated.  She needed Erroria to be in a particular mental state as Kincsem’s Comet passed overhead and to have her frightened now could mean she would be numb from the fear later or worse, defiant.  This spell had only one chance to succeed and it all hinged on this little filly and the variables that surrounded her.

So until the time came, the Witch would pretend to be on the filly’s side, to be an ally until the last moment.

“Would you like me to sing you a lullaby?” Canticle asked.  “It might help you calm down.”

“Yes, please,” Erroria stated.  

Giving her softest smile, Canticle opened her mouth and sang.

“Are you going to Scarborough Fair?
Parsley sage, rosemary and thyme;
Remember me to one who lives there,
For she was once a true love of mine….”
> Where Never Sprung Water or Rain Ever Fell
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“THUS WE RID TH’ LAND OF THY KIND, BELDAMS!” A young man slightly older than Megan, shrunken and hunched but with unruly red hair and sunken green eyes like burning emeralds smiled with malicious glee as she and her mother’s corpse were thrown into the bog.  Bound by steel chains and unable to move, she thrashed and kicked with her legs, trying desperately to stay afloat, even though she couldn’t swim.

Mud from her efforts spattered on his finery and that of the Church officials present, but they paid no mind, too busy glaring at her with righteous hypocrisy.  The true criminal stood next to them and yet because of his station, he was getting away with literal murder – her own.

“Turn hence, child.  Thee needeth not witness this,” Liam cooed and at his side, Megan’s sister Molly looked away.  She was just a little girl of six, and that bastard already had designs on her.  His depravity knew no bounds and for him to accuse her of witchcraft for his own ends, after she’d been raped by him? Given her maidenhood or else her family would have been put to the sword – and now it was happening anyway?

She grew weaker.  The looks of the Church officials became misshapen, eerie figures as the water passed over her face.  But she could see Liam’s monstrous eyes burning.  The eyes that stated he would take Molly the moment she had her first blood – and maybe he wouldn’t wait even then.

He’s a very devil!  Wherefore don’t thee stand ho him? she wanted to scream, but water filled her mouth and lungs as the bog claimed her.  She could feel her life slip away.

She could feel it.

She could feel the end.





Megan sat up once more, gasping for breath.  Sweat glistened on her brow, and her breath crystalized in the frozen air, despite the magic she’d used to make this campsite useful.  She felt herself shiver and she wasn’t sure whether it was from the cold or her nightmare.

She heard a soft whimper and saw golden eyes look at her in worry.

“I am well, Dinah,” she lied.  “Thou needst not worry about me.”  She knew her loyal vanargand wouldn’t believe a word she said – the children of Fenrir were far smarter than that – but better to say something and placate her than to say nothing and have Dinah truly worry.

She looked at the blank empty space around them, and in the immediate distance a soft blue bubble that she’d set up as a shield to protect them.  Outside of that an ominous solid wall of fog blanketed everything and almost obscuring everything, save for the dead trees that stood as silent as soldiers in this land.  The trees were emblematic of more than just the bleakness that surrounded them. They’d been passing through this blasted wasteland for over a day now and to their horror, had found it the site of a massive battle between Abbyssinians and Tirek’s forces. Countless bodies lay dead and unburied, rotting in the air, with carrion creatures feeding on them, tearing small morsels of flesh from the lost in order to sate their appetites.

At first, the trio tried to bury the dead with full rites; after all, there were no enemies when there was no soul there to attack you.  But the sheer number of bodies proved too much for that and they switched to a mass grave.  Even that had been too large of a burden and in the end it had taken massive firespells from both Megan and Twilight, incinerating both slain hero and villain alike until the ground was covered in so much ash it was hard to tell what were the flakes of snow falling from the sky and the dust of the dead lofting in the air.  The area stank with the stench of burnt flesh, bone and wood and it was completely understandable that after a while, Twilight turned and threw up, completely overwhelmed by everything.

In the light of the setting sun, they had moved on towards a distant mountain that was shaped like a rearing horse.  The Cavalier, it had been called by others, and it was nearly as old as Megan was herself. But no pony lived there, as this was far beyond Equestria’s borders and well into the wild unclaimed lands. There had been word that this was changeling country, but in the wake of Queen Chrysalis’ loss to Equestria, she likely didn’t have a way to control the lands here, presuming they were under her aegis.

And now, with the night settled and far from the bloodlands they had come across earlier, they were sleeping uneasily.  The fog hid them, but also hid what could potentially harm them.  And while Megan was sure that her comrades were more than capable of holding their own against timberwolves or bugbears or what may come, a bad enough injury would leave them one fighter short against unknown and potentially fatal odds.

“Blessed Blade?” Megan turned to see Sundance looking at her.

“I has’t a name, thou ken.  I abh’r yond title, so prithee, calleth me by what I wast born as, if thou wouldst.”

“Understood, Lady Megan,” Sundance said.  “Why aren’t you asleep?  Won’t your shield protect us?”

“Forsooth ‘t likely shall, but naught be perfect.  Thus I ponder ‘t additional protection, but not the only provenance we have at our means.”  She held up her sword.  “Carnwennan stands eft coequal at which hour all else fails.”

Sundance looked at the sword, with its simple design and the pale, silvery blade that glowed in the moonlight.  Who or whatever had forged that weapon had placed upon it complex magics that could be felt even from where the earth mare sat.  

“Wow, better than mine,” she said, pulling hers out for comparison.

“T’s not a tourney,” Megan assured her.  “Carnwennan pales compar’d to Rosegarden, mine own liegelady’s blade, and I suspect t’would come short ‘gainst other alicorn bodkins as well.  Thy heft is perfect f’r thee as mine is f’r me.  We all grasp our weapons to our most wondrous of talents, and yond is how‘t shouldst occur hence.”

“Maybe.  But still, if I had a sword like that, I could take out Tirek in one shot!”

“‘Tis not the sword yond fights, but the knight hefting such.  How didst thee fare in thy test ‘gainst Ahuizotl?”

“It wasn’t easy. It was me and a group of my fellow knights, and that freakstick had a sword in each paw and one in his tail! We fought him hard, and I was the one that dealt the finishing blow, but in that win we lost a lot of good stallions and mares.”  Sundance sighed.  “Applecrisp, Hurlyburly, Steelheft and Dazzlepulse.  All of them were good knights – better than me, even!  But I was the one that survived.  It shouldn’t have been me.”

“Uncount’ble be the number of times I’ve spake such myself.  Surviving be a trial ‘pon its own, and one we needs be vict’rious daily, else such sullies the names of the fallen.”  Megan smiled.  “Thy cater-cousins wouldst not begrudge thee thy life and they would thank thee f’r honoring theirs.”

Sundance gestured with her head towards her fellow pony.  “I wish I could be like Twila.  She’s able to sleep through anything.”

“Such hast its values, but ‘t’s not at each moment a valorous thing.”  Her eyes stared straight off into the distance, and her muscles tensed.

“You sense something, don’t you.”  It was not a question.

“Wake our dream loft’d companion and join me as lief as thee can,” Megan said, hopping to her feet. “The barrier shall remain lodged f’r a few hours, and yond shouldst hopefully be enow time to out what it is.” As she got up, Dinah looked at her. “Stayeth hither, mine own loyal. Guard our sanctuary well.”  With that, Megan picked up her sword and dashed out of the barrier and was soon swallowed up by the fog.





Nestled in the fog, not far away from them was a small, isolated village.  A truly rustic community, so tiny that it didn’t have a name. It was simply referred to as “Home” by the hundred or so ivory hedgehogs that lived happy, contented lives here, peacefully and without fear.  Calling themselves the Arkan Sonney, which in their language meant lucky ones, generations living here had a sense of tranquility in this simple collection of huts and fields that dotted the surroundings.  Hoglets played their games, young lovers swooned with affection and parents and elders worked in the fields.  That was all there was here and the Arkan Sonney were unconcerned about the larger world around them.  They knew of its existence, given that they traded with some of the remote, far-off villages of other species, but otherwise, this place was an Eden to them, Nirvana on Equus.

That had changed, however.  

Now, Home was aflame, the huts burning, the dirt roads coated in blood and bodies as far as the eye could see.  Screams could be heard, intermingling with the roar of the flames and smoke intermingled with the thick fog.  Groans and grunts uttered from buildings, followed by cruel laughter.  A head was thrown casually out a window, and right in after it was a torch.

Cruel monsters cheered and japed, standing around watching as their fellow beings raped and pillaged the innocents of the dying village.


“You sick motherbuckers.”  From out of the fog, a deep blue batpony with a short-white mane and tail moved forth. Wearing a tan shirt and a bandolier with several knives, as well as a whip by her side, she glared at them all with piercing turquoise eyes.  Prowling with a grace of a panther, she sized each one of them up.

“I spent years working with these villagers, and you plotholes ruined everything!” Immediately spinning, she loosed a storm of knives at the nearest creatures.  The knives embedded themselves in various body parts and a second later, courtesy of the enchantment on them, they exploded, taking them with the blades. As the bloodied chunks hit the ground, the batpony pawed the earth, glaring at her foes.  “They didn’t deserve this, you bastards!”

Looking at them, an abomination of a minotaur, with twisted, unnatural horns and eyes the color of blood, raised an gore-soaked blade and snarled, “YOU SHALL DIE A THOUSAND DEATHS!”


“Thee first.”  Without warning, there was a glint of light, a blur and in less than a blink of an eye, the minotaur found himself pinned to the ground, screaming, by his own sword. The blade had been driven through his shoulder, crushing bone, snapping tendons and muscle, bursting veins and blood. The beast would never have the use of that arm again if it lived…which it likely wouldn’t.

Standing there, glowing like a miniature sun and with Carnwennan in her hands, Megan roared, “THOU SHALST PAYETH F’R WHAT THEE HATH WROTH, FILTHY BEASTS!”  Dashing forward, she unleashed her strike at another of the beasts, swinging her sword with fatal grace.  A fraction of a second later, the creature was cut cleanly in two, the parts separating, innards spilling free and blood spraying in a wide arc on his counterparts.  With a sickening, slurping sound, the remainder of the body dropped to the ground like a sack.

Taking to the air, the batpony looked on with shock.  “Oh, buck me, that is some hardcore crap,” she said to herself.  “And just what is that thing?”   

“This is the fate of the unjust,” Megan threatened, looking at her foes.  “And thou art about to join those ill-starred folk!”  Without taking her eyes off her opponents, she called out to the batpony, “Nightflyer, art thee hither to avenge these innocent souls?”

“I have no idea what you just said, but if you’re asking me if I’m here to avenge the hedgehogs, yes!” the batpony called out.  “They were my friends.”

“Then f’llow us upon this grisly task,” the swordmaiden stated as she rushed forward, kneeing a heavily-scarred gargoyle in the chest.  As he fell back, she plunged her blade forward, punching through his chest as if it were nothing.  Withdrawing her sword, she spun back, then taunted her foes with a wave of her sword. “Test thyselves against me, if‘t be true thou art brave enow!”


From above, the batpony threw her fiery knives, taking care not to send any towards her strange new ally.  Fortunately, there were more than enough of the murderous bastards that would allow her to do so.  Chances were, she was going to run out of knives before she ran out of targets. “I’m going to tear you monsters apart for what you did!” she roared from above.

Fortunately, she knew a few other tricks.  Divebombing towards her foes, she began to spin in a tight circle, and as she did, flames began to build around her.  Finally, as she reached the center of the group she faced, she roared out, “Wheel of Fire!”, casting her combat magic.  The inferno surrounding her blasted away, becoming a pyroclastic tornado, a whirling dervish, funeral pyre and buzzsaw in one.  The enemies not lucky enough to be swatted away or cleaved cleanly from the blows were turned into balls of flame, screaming from the pain as the fire burned down to their core.  Finally, the batpony came to a stop and with cruel precision, turned and bucked the nearest foe, a diamond dog, cracking her burning chest and killing her instantly.

Meanwhile, Megan continued her intricate dance of sword movements, the blade flickering and moving so fast that it left a silvery after-image in the air, a song of blue-silver that her foes most definitely did not appreciate.  With brutal abandon she sliced through arms, heads and torsos, giving no quarter to those who gave the innocent villagers no mercy.  Blood of various colors soaked the ground, turning the floor beneath into a sickening mud as she doled out the justice she was fated to do.

“You dare?”  

Megan turned her head to see a massive centaur approaching her.  Easily double her size, he looked as though he was the one in charge here.  Carrying two axes, his eyes glowed with a sickly green light, as if he was casting a spell of some kind already; no doubt he was.

She gave him a taunting smile.  “I dare at which hour thither is justice to be giv’n and mine own queen’s hest to obey,” she told him.

“I don’t know what you are, creature, but none survives a fight against me, Kardak the Cruel!”

“Then I shalt be sobriquet’d as the first.  Far more wick’d varlets than thee hath tried to defeat me and they all did fail.  What maketh thou bethink thee couldst rank better?”

With a cruel smile on his lips, Kardak raised a hand and snapped a finger.  An explosion of acidic green energy blew up in Megan’s face, knocking her back.  Recovering, she stepped back momentarily.  “That was a demonstration of my power,” he told her.  “Surrender now and I will grant you a quick death.”

The woman felt the beading of blood and the sting of a cut on her cheek.  “Thou art marginally better than what I’ve combated ere,” she admitted, sheathing her blade.  “However, thou shalt still payeth f’r what thee’ve done hither.  Justice demands its due!”  Blazing like a light, she rushed in, grabbed his arm and with a thrust of her palm, delivered a pinpoint strike to paralyze his arm.  As he reared up in pain, she immediately drew Carnwennan once more, and cast a quick spell, the blade becoming a blazing blue star of energy. With that, she swung, dragging the blade down his barrel, bursting him in two.  Pints of blood sprayed, bones shattered from the blow and organs spilled out from him.  Kardak looked down at her in shock, the last thing he did as she nimbly leapt up and slashed his head off, landing on his back.

“Surrender anon ‘r flee back to thy masters and bid those folk the Megan is coming f’r them!” she warned.  “Bid them that I shalt not stand ho until the foal thee didst steal is safekept with her sire and dam once moo!”

With that, the remainder of the town invaders turned and ran, vanishing into the mist, leaving behind the mercilessly slaughtered village, its peace irrevocably wiped away and now a fading memory.

The batpony immediately rushed to Megan’s side.  “What the buck?  I thought you were going to avenge the town!”

“So I didst,” Megan explained, “but I wilt doth moo.  They art holding a young filly hostage, and so I didst warn those knaves I am coming f’r their host and they shall not mark safe.  I might not but bethink of the foal as well as the hath lost hither.”

“Oh, I didn’t know that,” the batpony stated.  “Will she be okay?”

“F’r their sakes, the child hadst best moot, ‘r I shalt showeth less mercy than anon,” she said. 


“We’re here!”  Both Sundance and Twilight approached, running as fast as they could, arriving just as everything was over.

“Looks like we missed some fun,” Sundance said sarcastically.  “I take it this is your hoofiwork, Blessed Blade?”

“Not all.  I hadst some assistance,” Megan said, gesturing to the batpony.

Noting the newcomers, the batpony sized them up and looked on with a sort of studious approval. “Oh, wow.  Are you two knights from the Church of the Alicorns?  I didn’t even know the Church still had them!”

“It’s not like we’re a secret or anything,” Twilight told her.  “It’s just that the Equestrian military does most of the protection of the land nowadays.  But we still exist and we still have our missions when called upon.  And you are?”

“Oh, me?”  The batpony gave a smile.  “I’m Daisyblaze!  Equestria’s finest scholar, explorer and adventurer!  Think of me as like Daring Do, except that I’m real!”

“Thou hast said thee wast gentle with this tribe of unfortunate souls?” Megan asked her.

“What’s with her Equish?”

Sundance couldn’t help but be impish.  “Miss Daisyblaze, you just happen to have insulted one of the world’s greatest legends. This here is none other than the Megan herself – the ancient heroine and paladin of Queen Faust, the savior of Equus a thousand times over and the greatest saint the world has ever known!”

A mildly annoyed look came over Megan’s face.  “Those art naught b’t stories and campfire bandywords, fit f’r telling to children.  And thou knowest I misprise frippery and formality!”  She then grinned and added, “Eke, I hardly ponder myself ‘ancient’!”

“But you’re thousands of years old, Lady Megan!  You’re older than Celestia herself by a longshot!” Twilight added.

“Mayhaps, but yond doth not maketh me a fusty crone!  I’ll hast thee knoweth I’m in mine own prime!”

“Sure thing, Granny,” Sundance snickered.

It was at this point that Daisyblaze suddenly realized that, yes, she was in the presence of one of the most ancient and sacred beings in Equestria.  “Y-you’re…you’re the Megan!”

Megan took a courtly bow.  “Megan of Yorkshire, Duchess of Cascade’s Waterfall, Grandmaster of the Knights o’ the Ord’r of the Quill, Swordbearer to Mine Lady Majesty, Queen Faust, and moo titles and sobriquets than I’d very much care to recall ‘r break with, at thy service.”

Daisyblaze did the only thing she could, given the circumstances and the adrenaline: she passed out.

“Well,” Sundance commented, scratching the back of her head, “I think she took that very well, don’t you?” 





Hours later the pale sun rose, beginning to bring what little light it could to Home.  By a small miracle, a small number of survivors had been found, huddling in terror in the lumber storehouses, and Daisyblaze convinced them they were safe.  That panic soon returned as Megan retrieved both their campsite gear as well as Dinah; the massive size of the wolf was enough to make the Arkan Sonney shrink in horror once more until Megan repeatedly assured them they were safe.

So as Sundance set to the grisly task of gathering the remains for burial and Twilight began to set up a series of defensive spells, Daisyblaze spoke to the now-village elder, a young hedgehog sow of no more than thirty years.  “I told them it wasn’t safe to be here anymore,” the batpony said with sadness, looking at Megan.  “There’s another village of their own kind down the river, and that one I know is safe because I left there yesterday to come back here.  The two groups don’t really get along well with one another, but given what happened, I’m sure they’ll take the survivors of this place in.”

“Doth thee plan to wend with those folk to the other village to ejaculate what hath happened?”

“Ejaculate?”  Daisyblaze stared at the woman for a second before she remembered.  “Oh yeah – you mean the old meaning of that word.”

“Is thither any other?”

“I’m going to pretend that you didn’t just say that.  Anyway, no, I think they’ll be fine without me – the other village can send guards to confirm their story.  In any case, I’m going with you all.  I overheard Sundance explain why you’re out here and you need air support, and I’m just the kind of mare that can provide.  Plus, these were my friends and I want to get justice for them.  And lastly, I’m an adventurous mare, and this sounds like one Tartarus of an adventure, so count me in!”

“Thee doth realize yond this is a truly perilous quest, doest thee not?” Megan warned her.  “We shall test the remainder of Tirek’s host, and poss’bly worse deviltries!  Thither is a chance yond coequal I mayest not be stout enow to winneth this task.”

“I’ll take my chances. I don’t think I can look at myself in a mirror if I didn’t do this.”

The human was silent for the longest time, so much so that Daisyblaze began to seriously worry that she was going to be shot down.  But then Megan put out a fist to bump and said, “We shalt travel the roads together, save the babe and gain justice f’r thy fallen cater-cousins. This I holidam and gage in mine own queen’s name.”

“I guess that’s a yes,” the batpony replied, giving her a hoofbump in return.  “So, do I call you Blessed Blade, or—”

“Mine own name is sufficient.  Forsooth, I’d prefer such.”

“Then you can just call me Daisy!” Daisyblaze said with a grin, “just don’t call me an amateur!”

“Actually, what I’d like to call you is interesting,” Twilight said as she approached. “Where did you get the bandoliers of throwing knives?  I can sense the flame blast spell on them, but there’s also one on the bandoliers themselves….”

“Oh, that?  It’s a spell that regenerates a copy of whatever is in the slot so long as it’s empty.  Don’t really know how it works, but it does without fail.  Occasionally I’ll put snacks in one of the slots and a few hours later – voila! – perfect copy of my food.  As for the knives, they’re just regular old throwing knives that I’ve learned how to put my combat magic on.”

“You have combat magic?  Were you in the military?”

“No, it’s just tied to my cutie mark.  I’ve always wanted to explore, so I was never really a good fit for the military,” Daisyblaze explained.

“Well, we’re wrapping up here, and the rest of the locals are going to be setting the pyres soon and burn the remainders of the village, or so I gathered, since I don’t speak their language,” Sundance said, “so we’d best get going.”

“Alloweth me setteth the tack and saddle on Dinah and we’ll depart,” Megan agreed.  “We’ve a long ways and like Childe Rolande himself, we hast a road a headeth of us.”

“Sounds like a plan then!” Daisyblaze agreed.  “Let me go say my goodbyes to the remaining villagers and then we’ll get going.”  A second later, a thought came to mind. “Um…Lady Megan?”

“Aye?”

“Um…who’s ‘Childe Rolande’?”





“By Lord Tirek’s beard!”  Spartoi pulled away from his scrying cauldron, the green fumes of the noxious liquid within no longer showing the image before him.  “Whatever Equestria has summoned to do its bidding, it’s a monster.”  He rushed over to where the Witch was.  This couldn’t wait.

He found her with the pony brat.  As per their agreement, when she was in her pony disguise, he was to treat her like a captive.  “Mare,” he growled, “I have need of your services.”

“Not right now,” she told him, not really looking at him.  Thankfully, the filly was asleep.

“I said now,” he told her.  “Don’t make me say it once more.”

Narrowing her eyes, the Witch followed him out of the structure they’d built to hold the filly. “Don’t you dare presume to tell me what to do, Spartoi.”

“It is what you told me when you were in that form,” he commented, gesturing to her pony disguise. “Furthermore, don’t get attached to that brat.  You know what you have to do in a few days and females like you always get weak in the knees when there’s a little baby to take care of.”

Plundervines appeared and a second later the Witch was in her normal form.  “Watch your tongue, cyclops,” she hissed at him.  “I know what my role is.  Do you?”

“I serve my lord and master, Tirek,” he retorted.  “I never forget that.  But I wonder if it’s the same for you.”  One eye bored at two for several disquieting seconds.

Finally, the Witch spoke.  “You had something to tell me, so out with it.”

“They have sent something unnatural against us,” he told her.  “Something I’ve never seen before and fights with a savage intent. It wiped out some of our forces within a heartbeat.”  He then explained everything he’d seen during his scrying, and when he was done, she scowled at him.

“You fool.  Can you not control your own armies?” she scoffed at him.

“If I am a fool, you’re a bigger one,” he told her.  “Armies need entertainment as well as food to survive.  That village was there along the way and provided all of that as well as practice afterwards.  And if those villagers hadn’t survived to tell of our position, it would have been all the better.  But Kardak made the mistake of thinking that just because he was the same species as Tirek, that he had even a fraction of our master’s talents and spellcraft. Whatever that thing was showed him otherwise.”

The Witch pondered on it.  “It sounds as though he fell on the wrong side of the Megan.”

“The Megan?” Spartoi laughed.  “That’s nothing but a pony legend, a story mothers tell their offspring at night. Better to believe that Nightmare Moon was fighting against us than to tell my troops that excuse!”

“Oh, she’s real all right,” the Witch told her.  “She’s as real as Faust herself.  Furthermore, she is likely as powerful, and it’s clear that the ponies only bring her out when they feel the fate of the world is at stake.  You should be honored: they clearly consider you a true threat.  Otherwise, they might send Discord or the Bearers.”

He laughed.  “So instead they send a figment of imagination.”

“Figment or not,” the Witch said as she walked away from him, “one of your armies was destroyed in total.  Imaginary creatures can’t do that.”


The Witch walked towards a second stone edifice that she’d created in the past day.  Unlike the other, this was where the ritual would be performed.  She looked around the mostly barren room, which contained two massive curved spikes at one end, and a pair of carvings that she’d told Spartoi were necessary for her ritual.  Elsewise, there was a stone altar that she was currently using for a table, though it would in the end serve as the place of death for little Erroria.  For now, though, it contained her grimoires and research equipment, items she critically needed for this plan.

She opened up a grimoire whose cover had been made from the skin of a zebra.  She remembered making it well: The zebra had begged for its life when she claimed it and the screams filled her mind still.  Its death throes had helped to empower the book and had helped her find exactly what she was looking for.

Anima errorum.  Every thousand years, or so the legend went, a creature was born on Equus that wasn’t supposed to be.  It was outside the realm of creation for unknown reasons, and the magic of the world seemed to react to it in strange ways.  She’d first heard the truth of it a millennium past, when an Abyssian was born with the ability to constantly change its coat color.  Given that Abyssinians were one of the species on Equus that were magicless, the Witch looked into it more and had thrown herself into the studies of it over the years.  She’d found that if she could gain the unstable power that came from an anima errorum, she could do whatever she willed, and become even more powerful than Faust herself!

So she bided her time until the next had been born, and so it had come up again in the form of young Erroria.  Born to Canterlot nobleponies who summered occasionally in a small home in Ponyville, there had been conflicting reports of the pegasus filly having been seen as an earth pony, a unicorn and (even once, though by a clearly drunken witness) as an alicorn!  Her cutie mark was said to change often, though when most saw her, she had not even yet earned her mark.  Records from the hospitals in both Ponyville and Canterlot cleared her of being affected by the cutie pox, and they likely would have discovered her status as an anima errorum, had they known of its existence.  Thankfully that was not the case, and that both the Guild and the Church were unaware of her or unconcerned about what she could portent.

Soon, the power within the filly would be hers, and her true plans could begin.  She would see them through, even though it meant hurting an innocent child.

It was a cruel world, after all.





It was late in the day when they’d reached their destination.  The foggy forest had given away to near-barren plainlands, and the tang of salt filled the air.  To their right, the ocean could be seen, though at this time of year, there should not have been icebergs floating in the waters.  The slope they followed led down a winding road that would eventually lead to the shore and with it, maybe a boat that could be hired to take them to their next destination.

“We shouldst stand ho hither f’r the eve,” Megan advised.  “Elsewise we would enter any town at night and given all hath occur’d, the villeins might mark overly wary.  Far better f’r those good folk to see us in the day, at which hour we can display a friendlier countenance.”

“Fair enough,” Twilight said, yawning.  “I don’t have an earth pony’s stamina anyway.”

“That’s not what Ribbontwist says.  She says you—”

“Shut up, Dance.”

Daisyblaze laughed. “Well, since I naturally have fire magic at my disposal, how about I make dinner?  I make a mean chili con carrot.”  Both of the other ponies agreed, and Megan, who had not had it before, decided it would be interesting fare.  She untied Dinah and told her to hunt, but to bring back a rabbit so she could get her own needs from meat.

“You eat meat?” Sundance asked her.

“Mine own kind is omnivorous, though because of all those ‘round me I partake not oft.  I knoweth ponies can catch wary of those who partake of sweetbreads.”  A thought then came over Megan as she used her magic to thaw a nearby boulder so she could rest her back against it.  “Ah, this reminds me of something!  Peradventure I shouldst bid a tale?”

“Oh?”  Both Twilight and Daisyblaze looked at her with interest.  “What is it?”

“A tale of from mine own earlier days, at which hour Queen Faust still trod the earth.  ‘Tis a tale of mine own knightly apprentice, Starswirl and the events after a quest we undertook in Araby.”

Sundance looked confused.  “Araby?”

“An old name for Saddle Arabia,” Daisyblaze explained.

“Wait,” Twilight interjected.  “Starswirl the Bearded was your apprentice?  The Starswirl the Bearded?” 

“At which hour thou remark him as such, thee sound as though he wast a figure of legend.  But to me, he wast at each moment the fartous, gentle stallion I led,” Megan stated.

“But how?  He was the best magic user that ever existed, or at least until Princess Twilight came along.  And I don’t recall hearing anything about him being a knight!”

“Ah, but back in those days, thither wast nay formality of roles and rules, and knights couldst eke toil as mages and mages knights.  Nonesuch Guild f’r formal tut’lage, and no true military f’r strict martial instruct.  In those days ere gone, Starswirl wast a promising swordsstallion, with an eager interest in the charming arts.  He’d actually cometh to us from his village by way of the bodkin and pike and at which hour I did see his desire in knowledge of blade and spellcraft, and so I tooketh him as mine own personal apprentice.

“We hadst just complet’d our task in Araby hunting down a myrmecoleon – a half-ant, half-lion, nasty creature.  The queen of the lamia hadst request’d aid of Queen Faust at the time, and with thither being troubles in the Griff’n Kingdom at the time, I claim’t ‘pon myself to wend with Starswirl to Araby.”

“Myrmecoleons? Lamia?  Are you pulling our legs?” Sundance asked.

“Myrmecoleons used to exist – there’s a skeleton of one in the Royal Museum of History in Canterlot,” Daisyblaze stated.  “And I met the current queen of the lamia last year.  There’s not many of them left, sadly.  The war between the Sisters nearly wiped out all of their species since they were on Luna’s side, and mistrust of them still persists.  They’re actually very peaceful and kind.”

“No, what’s a lamia? Twila, want to explain for stupid ponies like me?”

Twilight rolled her eyes.  “Half-pony half-snake hybrids, all mares.  They don’t consider themselves ponies, though when it comes time to take a mate, they change into a fully earth mare form until after their eggs hatch. While I haven’t met any personally, reputedly they’re really kind and they only joined Nightmare Moon’s army because she promised their queen at the time a bevvy of stallions of her choice. From what the history books say, she was kind of a perv.”

Megan chuckled. “Well, that lady wasn’t the only. At which hour ‘t cameth time to claim our reward from Queen Helianthus, to me, the lady gaveth a bejewel'd bodkin as a token of our friendship.  But f’r Starswirl, well, he wast promise far moo: f’r at which hour we arrived, ‘twas just in the midst of mating season and so Helianthus, all three of her daughters, and about three score of the lamia mares within town all did look at him with the same way Dance japes yond other mares behold Twila.”

“Hah, see!  Even Lady Megan noticed that, Twila!” Sundance teased.

“Kill me now,” Twilight facehoofed.  “Lady Megan, please continue before I set Dance on fire.”

Megan gave her friends a whimsical smile and continued.  “Since we hadst to tarry a fortnight f’r a boat to pick us up from the Isle of Lamia, during such time, Starswirl wast bombard’d with requests by dozens of amorous mares.  Some hadst figur’d into their pony forms as eft f’r him at a moment’s beckon.  But yond wasn’t entirely whither the hum’r cometh from.  Because they did want to claim his charms, the lamia mares didst what they hath felt wast natural f’r those folk: they did cook a grand feast f’r their intended, as wast their custom.”

“Why do I get a feeling that this didn’t turn out well for Lord Starswirl?” Twilight asked.

“Because at which hour lamia art in pony form, they hast pony bodes and natures,” Megan explained, “but most of those folk wast still in their lamia forms and as such besettled with lamia natures: cold sanguities, and a needeth to consume meat to keepeth themselves warm.  Thus, every meal they did prepare f’r us wast heavy on sweetbreads: crabs, gudgeon, but eke some of the game of the land: musimions, questing beasts, bennu, yond sort of thing.  F’r a human like me, such repasts ‘twere delicious.  But f’r a pony, who doth not partake of meats…. ”

The three ponies at once suddenly looked very queasy.  “And he had to put up with that for two whole weeks?” Daisyblaze asked.

The human nodded. “But the final straw cameth at which hour Princess Harplium, the youngest of Heliantus’ brood, quested and took the biggest questing beast on that lady’s own – enow to fe’d the whole town. But sorely set ‘pon winning Starswirl’s heart, the lady did cook’t in secret and surpris’d him with a private feast, just f’r him in a massive chamb’r of both food and bedclothing so they would consummate afterwards!  Needless to sayeth, Starswirl wast sicken’d by the meat and so lock’d himself in his cubiculo f’r the remainder of the time we wast on the island!”  Megan laughed uproariously at the recollection. “Imagine, ladies!  Starswirl the Bold, ‘r so he hath called himself back then, laid base by a comely lamia maiden, outside his do’r with food and begging him to sample her fineries!”  

Four ladies broke out into fits of unrestrained laughter, and the good mood continued on when Daisyblaze served her chili.  Twilight made a joke asking the batpony if she’d put meat into it and in turn, Daisyblaze teased Twilight if she was secretly a lamia looking for a snuggle or more. Afterwards, the group continued to share stories and talk until the last of the firewood turned to embers and Megan suggested they call it a night.


Pulling out her blanket and looking at the night sky, which was clear, with Luna’s moon hanging above, Megan felt a pang in her heart.  Yet another symbol of what she’d lost and wanted so dearly to regain.  Her earthly relatives were nothing more than bare memories, and with Faust gone and Starswirl long dead, the solar and lunar alicorns were pretty much the only family she had left.  One she could never see, because of the vow she’d made to their mother.

“Faust, why did you put this weight on me?” the swordmaiden asked the empty sky.  “E’en immortals are not meant to be alone, and mine travails hath always been bereft of comp’ny.  These new companions of mine hither shall vade in time as well. Wherefore didst thee bid me such, mine own queen?”

As always, the sky gave no answer, and she settled into a sleep.  It didn’t matter if the dream became a nightmare once again, for they were dreams that not even Luna could tread upon.

In truth, Megan would forever suffer such damnable night visions if it meant she could be reunited with the only family she had left.
> Between the Salt Water and the Sea Sand
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The group entered the seaside village of Holiday Beach…or rather, what was left of it.  A clearly independent town that had no allegiance to any realm, Holiday Beach had been filled with ponies, Abyssinians, gargoyles, kirin and a host of other species, all living in harmony.  Now they all lay dead in a parody of that same principle, all of them brutally massacred at the hands of the remainder of Tirek’s forces.  Nearly all of the town’s buildings were ash and while some were still aflame, the dying smoke that crept into the air were indicators that what had happened occurred days ago.  The frozen ground was slick with the iced-over blood and entrails of the townsfolk, who had been mercilessly slaughtered.  As if to send a message to any that had somehow managed to survive, a dozen decapitated heads were set upon pikes embedded into the ground, their eyes having been gouged out by seabirds having looked for morsels to eat.

Daisyblaze looked heartsick.  “I didn’t…I didn’t sign up for this sort of thing.”  She looked at the others.  “Is this what you’ve been dealing with since this started?  Nothing but death and wanton slaughter?”

“Thou art a gentle soul, Daisy.  I would not censure thee if’t be true thee hath decided to leaveth us anon.”

“No, Lady Megan. I made a promise to the hedgehogs of that village and I mean to keep it.”  She then gave a comforting grin.  “Besides, not every adventure is going to be bright and squeaky clean.  If it were like that, I’d be in a Daring Do novel.”

“I would not wish thee to d’part.  But I fear ‘twill receiveth worse ere ‘t gets better,” Megan told her.  “The ordinary is wrought with villainy such as this, and this is by sorrows none out of custom.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s how it works.  But I’ll be fine.”

Megan was about to say something else, when something whizzed past her.  A second one sounded and she reached out, catching the arrow that had been aimed for her head.  “If’t be true thou art hither to square us, we shalt giveth thee a mighty challenge, but if’t be true thou art hither to protect the town, we mean thee no harm!”

A voice by the docks called out, “Do you mean that?”

“Aye, I do.  I gage’t upon the name of mine own sovereign, Queen Faust, and upon the lady who doth rules in her stead, Princess Celestia.”

“As do I.  I am a Knight of the Church of the Alicorns and I would fight until the end to protect those in need,” Sundance swore.

“Same as I,” Twilight vowed.

“Um…I’m just an adventurer, but I’m with them,” Daisyblaze stated, “so take that as you will.”

Several uncomfortable seconds of silence went by before the voice said, “Okay, we’re coming out!”  A second later, two earth ponies came out, both with bows and arrows on their backs. To make them feel more at ease, the others sheathed their weapons, though silently Megan and Twilight prepared spells, just in case.

“What happened here?” the first one, a pink mare with a short sky-blue, yellow and magenta mane and tail asked.  Standing next to her was a peach-hued mare with a sea-blue mane and tail.  Both had the same blue eyes and same cutie marks, twin blue and white seashells.  “We were out fishing,” she explained.  “It’s what we do for a living.”

“We only left a couple of days ago!” the other mare cried.  “What happened?”

“We don’t know, but we have our suspicions,” Twilight told her, going into an explanation of everything they had been through in a couple of days, and how the remnant armies of Tirek were slaughtering everything that remained in their path. As a safety precaution, they did not reveal their mission, but instead stated they were assigned to deal with the remainder of Tirek’s forces around the world.

“And right now we have reason to believe they’re headed to Umberfoal, possibly to regroup,” Sundance told the two.  “We were coming here in the hopes of hiring somepony to take us across the sea, but when we got here we found the place in this condition.”

“Unfortunately,” Daisyblaze added, “as you can see, they set fire to just about every vessel in the port and even if one was intact, I don’t think any of us are qualified mariners.”

“Yond’s true, Daisy. I hast many talents, but being a sail’r is not one, certes,” Megan admitted.

“Well…we have a ship,” the first earth mare spoke.  “It’s not a luxury vessel or anything you’d find in Canterlot or Manehattan, but the Johnathan Livingston Seagull’ll get you across the way, if you’re willing.”  She looked at her counterpart.  “Sis?”

“Are you sure about this?” the second asked the first.

“We don’t have a choice.  We have nothing now and I don’t know about you, but I kinda feel we have to do something,” the first sister replied, before turning to the group.  “We’re not from this town originally either.  Sis and I are from the Sirenian Coast and we decided to go into the fishing business together.”  The first one offered a hoof.  “I’m Rhythm Coral and this is my sister Jazz Ocean.”  

The others introduced themselves and after the two sisters got over their shock at who they were in front of, they all settled down to the all-too-familiar grisly task of burying yet more dead.  To the two knights, it seemed as though it was happening to the point of cliché.  To Daisyblaze, she was starting to become aware of the fact that not all adventures were the rollicking, wild ones she was used to or even the sanitized friendly ones in the Daring Do books. To the sisters, however, this had been their home and these their friends and to have to bury them after seeing what had been done to them made them all ill.

But to Megan, this was something that she’d been long used to over the centuries.  Burying friend, foe and stranger alike, she’d become completely numb to death and its presence around her.  She knew she could die; she felt as though it had happened to her once before and even Faust had told her that even though she’d gained an alicorn’s lifespan and power near that of one, she did not have the true immortality that came with them.  But for it to happen to others over countless ages and for it to never visit her, she felt as though she were cursed.  The pandas of Zhanguo had a saying: “May you live in interesting times.”  

Megan had felt she’d lived a long enough life for many interesting times, and it never seemed as though it would end.





Hours later, the Johnathan Livingston Seagull cut its way across the iron-hued waves, pulling away from the lost town.  Because the trawler was too small for Dinah, she had to be left behind, much to the vanargand’s reluctance.  Megan left instructions for her steed to head home to her pack and to have them send another, so that when she returned she would have a mount for the trip home. Dinah whimpered her concern, but Megan lied once more and though she felt guilty about it, convinced the giant wolf to do as bid.

She wasn’t the only one feeling separations blues.  So, too, were Coral and Ocean, from the place they had called home.  The sisters explained that even though they were from the Sirenian Coast, they had never really felt at home there and so by being fisherponies, they were able to go wherever the ocean breezes took them, up and down the coast to trade and enjoy their lives to the fullest.  They’d settled down somewhat over the years in Holiday Beach, but with it now gone, they had nowhere to go, so they would eagerly join up with the group in order to avenge their fellow slain townsfolk.

“Once we landfall, if ‘t be true we doth not returneth within a week, inform Princess Luna of ev’rything and prithee advise her to assault Umberfoal with all the hosts the lady can muster,” Megan advised them.  “If’t be true something is stout enow to killeth me, ‘twill be stout enow to end alicorns – and the ordinary cannot afford such a peril.  Not anon, not with this unnatural winter undertaking.”

“We are not warriors, Lady Megan, not like the rest of you, but I don’t like the idea of leaving you behind,” Coral said reluctantly.  

“I agree,” Ocean admitted.  “Besides, we have to do our part.”

“I ken thy fears. Thou feelst as though thou art abandoning us and thou art both brave and kind enow yond thee would not wanteth to commit such to others.  But I gage thee, we shall square our way through the foe and deal with those varlets as fierce we can.  F’r the sake of all, we wilt.”

“Well, we have a strong following wind with us, so we should reach our destination within two days,” Coral commented.  But we’re going below the Bearless Circle – the coldest part of the world, so are you prepared for this?”

Daisyblaze rolled her eyes.  “Well, I don’t know about them – I guess their armor is magicked so that they’re protected.  But like pegasi, we batponies can deal with bigger shifts in temperature.  Just in case, though, I have a parka in my backpack, so I’ll still be able to move around.  What about you two?”

“Oh, we’re used to this,” Ocean, at the Seagull’s tiller, commented.  “Seaponies have to be used to the change in the weather at any time and even before the weather got really weird we were already used to what things are like here near the Bearless Circle.  Plus, sometimes we have to be out in the worst of storms, trying to haul in the fishnets.  So don’t worry about us, we’re fine, right, sis?”

Coral nodded. “Yeah, if anything, it gets bad for us because the weather shifts so often out here on the seas, we sometimes forget what time of the year it is!” she said with a laugh.


Navigated by its unconcerned crew, the trawler moved away from the coast, farther and farther until in the end it was nothing more than a little black line on the edge of the horizon.  For the others, it was the farthest they’d been away from land in their entire lives. Even Megan, throughout all her life, had not been on the sea before.  When she told the others, they grinned.

“So I guess there’s a first time for everything, Lady Megan?” Twilight told her.

“Peradventure so. As time goeth on, thither is at each moment something new to experience, after all,” the woman said sardonically.

“Well, count this as just another experience!” Daisyblaze laughed, lifting off the deck and taking to the air.  “I know you all don’t know about this, but the feel of sea air beneath my wings kinda tickles.  We batponies, and I guess the pegasi too, feel the change in air current and pressure in our wings.  It’s just natural.  And colder air is heavier.”

“Makes it harder to fly in?” Sundance asked.

“A bit, but nothing that a well-trained flier can’t deal with.  Some kids might have some problems, though.”  She looked at Megan.  “Should I scout around the area, Lady Megan?”

“It really shouldn’t be necessary,” Ocean commented.  “There’s nothing for miles around and even if there was, trust me you’d see it coming.”

“Anon, I bethink we shouldst gird any precautions yond we can.  We mayest able to see what’s coming in the heav’ns, ‘r on the flote, but ‘neath the deep be an elsewise different concern,” Megan noted.

“Don’t worry,” Coral assured them.  “As soon as I see one, I’ll ask a whale or a dolphin if they can help us out.  As long as we split our fish with them, they’re always willing to lend a hoof, er, flipper!”

“So thou canst bandy with the creatures of the flote?  Thou art far resourceful than I hath expected.”  A thought then came to her.  “Thou mention'd thee hail from fair Sirenia, correct?  Art thou Hooves, mayhaps?”

Coral and Ocean looked at Megan with surprised.  “You know about—?” Coral began.

“Look who you’re talking to, sis,” Ocean reminded her.  “I’d be more surprised if she didn’t know.”

“Point,” the first conceded.  “But to answer your question, Lady Megan, no, we’re not.  To a degree, we’re all trained for that sort of thing, but in the end, it’s a matter of whether you have the actual skills or the drive.  In our case, we had no interest in it and wanted to sail the seas, but not as part of the military, so we decided to go into fishing.  It’s worked out for us.”

“I wouldst concur,” Megan agreed.  “Far be’t from me to vex ‘bout the changes of th’ ordinary.  If’t be true I’d hadst mine own way, I’d end a housewife wed to some nameless knight in Yorkshire.”  She leaned against the gunwale as if taking stock of her life.  “I nev’r hath chosen this life, and in many ways, t’was press’d ‘pon me.  But it’s granted me the kind yond a simple uneducat’d peasant wench couldst nev’r grasp. I am anon far from the maiden I wast, and in God’s final, as thee sayeth, ‘it hath worked out f’r me.’” 





A day later, land was a distant memory and the ponies not typically used to being aboard seagoing vessels were green to the gills; even Daisyblaze, who had spent a good portion of the day before airborne, had been buffeted enough by the various frigid winds that she wasn’t feeling as well as she’d been the day before.  Only the two mariners and Megan seemed to be faring well despite the rolling seas, which had turned from a deep electric blue to an iron gray, the whitecaps frothing and battering the hull of the small vessel.

“Twila, don’t you know any anti-seasickness spells?” Sundance gurgled.

“When would I have a chance to use them?” the unicorn responded between retching over the side of the ship.

“Ah, landlubbers,” Ocean laughed, though not without sympathy.  “Don’t worry, girls; by the time we reach Umberfoal, you’ll definitely have your seahooves!”

That made Twilight even sicker.

Sundance looked at Megan, who sat on the deck in a meditative posture.  She seemed to channel magic through her hands and had a serene look on her face that neither of her fellow knights had.  “And how are you managing to survive this, Lady Megan?” she accused.

Without opening her eyes, she stated, “Focus upon thy trials, at each moment.  Whe’r thy foe is a villain with a pike ‘r the weather itself, one needs at each moment mark eft f’r strife and gird thyself for battle. That is what such means to be a knight in the service of others.”  She opened her eyes, and the look in them was that of wisdom itself.  “If’t be true thou art at each moment prepar’d, thou shalst nev’r stumble when the hour is nigh.”

“Well, if you mares were interested in seeing if Lady Megan can get seasick, you’re about to get your wish,” Coral said uneasily as she stared into the distance with a spyglass. “We’ve got a storm incoming, and it’s coming fast.  Faster than I’d like.”

“How fast are we talking?”

“Based on my guess? Probably an hour or even less.” She looked at Daisy.  “Can you do anything about that?”

The batpony shook her head.  “Afraid not – for one, I’m not weather trained.  Furthermore, even if I was, this is the open sea, and so it’s probably a natural storm and so it’s much stronger than the ones the Weather Service creates.  We’ll probably have to ride it out.”

“Well, storms at sea can be unpredictable, so we’ll see how bad it is as it gets closer,” Ocean advised, “but for now, I think it’s best that we start battening the hatches and tying down the loose gear on deck.” 





Standing over the cauldron, the Witch watched the image from afar.  That little group heading towards Umberfoal was likely not going to stop her plans, but they might cause a problem, and problems were not what she needed right now, not with her plans so close to fruition. She’d already had more than enough delays in her quest and having these constant metaphorical thorns in her side was not particularly pleasant.

Worse, Spartoi was starting to become aware that she wasn’t quite exactly in tune with his plans. He’d demanded that she create a new means of bolstering their forces so that “Lord Tirek could be raised without interference from Canterlot” – and he told her as if she was the same level of suffering sycophant that he was.  Part of her wanted to end the bastard where he stood, but she had not yet enough time with his forces to find out if she could truly bring them beneath her control. Once she was sure she could do that, that would be the moment that Spartoi outlived his usefulness.

He did make one good point, though: the Megan couldn’t be allowed to make landfall.  She was Faust’s will, and whether it meant stopping them “in Tirek’s name” – all the quotation marks included – or through her own means, that damnable creature had to be stopped.  Power was nearly in her grasp and nothing – nothing! – could be allowed to jeopardize that.

The Witch focused on her own power, calling up eldritch spells that hadn’t been heard on Equus in ages.  These would be used to summon a creature that would do the job against the Megan and her allies.  And once they were out of pocket, the Witch would be free to do the deed she needed to in order to further her plans.

Thinking about Erroria, though…it brought out uncomfortable feelings within her. Feelings she wasn’t sure why she had. She was no pony, and by all rights, given the hell they had given her throughout the ages, she should be more than happy to slay and lay waste to the damn things and everything that they represented.

And yet….

The witch shook her head.  No. The power within the child would be hers, one way or another.  She needed that power and the filly had it, and there was only one way to take it.

Seeing the malevolent powers building between her digits, she completed the chanting of her spell and loosed the spell into the sky, a sickly green jag of energy that lanced into the distance.  Somewhere a distance away it would meet with the Megan and her forces, and when it did, it would turn out to be a very bad time for Faust’s knight.  

The Witch grinned. It would be very bad indeed. 





As the storm got closer, Coral and Ocean noticed the rolling, bucking movement of the ocean’s surface as the storm grew closer.  The situation was punctuated by the increased choppiness of the waves and the bouncing of the ship’s bow, the Seagull’s waterline and prow starting to clear completely as the undulation of the water continued.

“That storm’s moving pretty fast,” Coral pointed out.  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a squall act like that before.”

“I’m in agreement,” Ocean stated to her sister.  “If I didn’t know any better, I’d almost say that somepony summoned a storm and is sending it our way to prevent us from reaching our destination.”

“Haply yond’s possible,” Megan told them.  “Pegasi be not th’ only thus hast any hest of weath’rmongering talents, and any beldams of ill-intent would knoweth how to summon a wind yond would vex us.”

“That doesn’t sound good at all,” Twilight admitted.

“It isn’t,” was Coral’s reply.  “Alright, anypony who has no business being topside better get belowdecks, fast.”

“It stinks like fish down there!” Sundance whined.

“Take your pick – smell like smelt or get tossed around like a kickball match by rowdy foals!” Ocean told her.

Megan looked at Daisyblaze.  “Daisy, canst thou soar ahead and insp’ct yond storm?  If’t be truly ensorcelled in origin, we needest ken what else might come our way.”

“I’m on it!” Without further ado, the batpony blasted off into the sky, immediately rocketing towards the thunderheads.  In the distance they loomed, black storm clouds that looked extremely ominous and crackled with sickly green lightning, clearly nothing normal.  Worse, the storm seemed to be rushing towards them, running headlong as the wind began to pick up, howling in the air.

“Yeah, I have a bad feeling about this,” Twilight said as she stared at the storm one last time before heading belowdecks.


Within minutes, the batpony was back, and there was an ashen look on her face.  “Ladies, you might want to get Dance and Twila back up here, and pronto!” she pointed.  “We’ve got inbounds and they don’t look friendly at all.”

“A vile host of some sort?” Megan asked as one of the two sisters raced down into the skin of the ship to get the others.

Before she could answer, a jag of electric green plasma tore through the sky, echoing with a sound that sounded like no clap of thunder they’d ever heard before.  If anything, it sounded like the screams of the damned as inky, unnatural silhouettes of creatures heretofore unseen began to race ahead of the thunderheads.  The monsters were all fangs and claws, leather-winged beasts that lunged towards the boat.

As Twilight and Sundance made their way back to the weatherdeck, they saw the horde bearing down on them.  “That,” the unicorn commented, “does not look good.”

Sundance, in response, immediately withdrew her sword.  Twilight responded in kind, unleashing a bolt of energy at the boiling mass of attackers bearing down on them.  The blast struck true, turning several of them into charred, flaming corpses that plunged towards the raging sea, while others were cored by the blast, their innards flung towards the others.  However, the creatures didn’t stop.  One of the bodies crashed into the deck with a sickening splash, spraying bright blue blood all over the deck.

“That can’t be natural,” Daisyblaze commented, looking at the thing.  It was about the size of a hoofball and had a superficial look akin to that of a vampire fruit bat, but that was where the comparison ended. The “head”, such as it was, was one massive gaping mouth, filled with rows upon rows of gaping, needle-sharp teeth that glistened like poisoned daggers.  The body of the beast contained three eyes, one of which had been utterly destroyed, cored through by Twilight’s blast.  It flopped around, mortally wounded, but still with a hideous fury towards the heroes, only to be ended by Sundance’s sword as she plunged it through the beast’s body.

“Looks like it’s time to fight, ladies,” she announced, staring at the creatures as they began to circle the ship.

Drawing her sword immediately, Megan started calling out orders.  “Coral and Ocean, continue thy mast’ry of the vessel towards our destination. The rest of us shalt square this damnable host!”

Daisyblaze launched herself into the air and immediately started to fling her burning knives.  In turn, the group of the flying creatures rushed at her, just as the storm hit the ship in full, with jags of emerald lightning flung around and the wind beginning to shriek as it reached its topmost strength.  The batpony immediately reacted, starting to fling her arsenal of flaming knives and using her combat magic when she could, filling the skies with vivid capri-hued ichor that rained down upon the seas and the combatants below.

From below, a voice screamed, “Something’s coming over the side of the ship!”  Against the port side of the Seagull, something clawed its way up, digging deep scores into the wooden walls of the vessel.  The timbers of the ship groaned in protest, which meant whatever was making its way up was big.  Eventually, the first part of a scaly fin poked up over the gunwale.

“Oh, buck me!” Ocean shouted over the howl of the wind. “If that thing gets onboard, we’re in trouble!”

“What?” Megan asked back.

“A ch’en!  Amphibious dragon-squid like thing – it’s the natural enemy of seafarers everywhere!”

“Like krakens?” Twilight asked.

“No – krakens prefer to take ships as trophies, while ch’ens capture mariners at sea to eat them!”  At that, both sisters’ hooves went to their side and the crossbows they’d strapped on earlier.  Between those and the cutlasses they wore, they clearly looked as though they were ready to fight such a creature.  Unfortunately, given that their job right now was to keep the Seagull seaworthy and preventing it from capsizing.

Over the brass-coated gunwales sharp claws, glistening from the seawater, carved gashes as it reached for purchase.  A long neck, attached to a massive head with four eyes and a trifurcated mouth, within which were suckers ringed with sharp incisors.  The ch’en reared its head back and roared a bellow that split the air with its animalistic rage.

Megan roared out, “BACK TO HELL WITH THEE, FELL BEAST!”  Slamming her sword into the deck, she called up a magical spell into her hands.  Multicolored rings of light encircled her hands, spinning like a gyro.  Finally she unleashed her cast at the ch’en, hitting the creature in the withers.  Chunks of scales, flesh and kelp flew off the predator as it bellowed in pain.

As the beast recoiled from the blow, the Seagull listed with it, almost knocking those on their feet off the deck!  “It’s buried itself into the hull!” Coral shouted.  “We need to get it off the Seagull before she capsizes!”  As if to underscore her warning, a second claw from the ch’en became noticeable, and along with it, a small forest of tentacles, which immediately started to burrow their way into the wood of the decks, hoping to complete its takeover of the trawler.

“I’m a little busy at the moment!” Daisyblaze shouted from above, pirouetting to narrowly avoid the creatures burying into her side like avian eels.  One had already attached itself to her hindleg and while she’d burned it off with one of her knives, the muzzle remained fast attached to her, with her blood dripping out past where the mouth clamped on.

Twilight, for her part did not answer, instead summoning dozens of fireballs and flinging them in spraying, undulating patterns.  The missiles found their targets sure and easily and vaporized everything that they touched, lessening the numbers of the lampreybats, but only by a fraction.  They seemed to be infinite in number, like they were coming from an invisible warren just in the air.

For her part, Sundance sliced and burned through the creatures as well, the magic in her sword now active and the blade aflame with the spell ensorcelled into it: Celestia’s Flame.  Even though the weapon was slowly starting to become coated in the blood of the lampreybats, the earth mare still swung the blade for all it was worth, hewing the creatures as they attacked.

That left Megan to deal with the ch’en.  Its head was already larger than her entire body, but the Swordbearer of Faust stood fast as she pulled her blade from the plank once more.  “I AM THE SWORD OF FAUST AND I DOTH NOT YIELD ONE FLAGSTONE, BEAST!” she bellowed as she rushed towards the creature, who lunged forward on its own with its serpentine neck.  Dancing out of the way of its strike, Megan whispered something and runes came alive on the blade of Carnwennan, its heft beginning to glow with the same powers of harmony that she’d earlier wielded.  She struck against the beast’s face as it tried to pull back, drawing blood and leaving a glowing trace of power against its muzzle.  The ch’en roared in pain and lanced out at Megan with one of its tentacles, who nimbly dodged out of the way, leaving the venomous appendage to hammer into the wood.

“Lady Megan, we can’t take another blow like that!” Ocean cried, holding onto the helm with every bit of strength she had.  She had changed into her siren form and wrapped her tail around the ship’s wheel in order to gain extra grip, as the seas were tossing the Seagull around like a bath toy.  Next to her, having already furled the sails, Coral attacked the lampreybats with both her and her sister’s cutlasses, desperately trying to keep the parasitic beasts at bay.  If Ocean fell, while Coral could take the helm herself, there would be one less defender and in a situation where they were being quickly overwhelmed, the results would be fatal.

Beneath them all, the boards of the Seagull began to groan and splinter.  The tentacles of the ch’en were embedding themselves deeper and were probably in the main spaces at this point, heading to punch through the keel and sink the ship.  Worse, even if they somehow managed to kill the ch’en, its corpse would never let go and would either need be pried off manually or else the Seagull would soon be a complete loss.

“Sis, we need to find a place where we can get to safety!” Ocean stated.  “Get in the water and see if you can find a jetty or a sandbar or an islet!”

“I can’t abandon you!” Coral shouted back.

“DO IT!” her sister begged.  The truth was plain: either Coral went to find a place for safety or help, or none would be forthcoming.


But the answer came not from Coral, but instead a flash of blue light that briefly blinded everyone present.  When their collective vision cleared, they noted they had several less attackers around them.  Moreso, of the ch’en, there was little left, as part of its body and head had been completely disintegrated, its entrails spilling onto the deck and part of its spine hanging off the side of the ship, the bones scored and burnt with electricity dancing along its length.

“What the buck just happened?” Sundance asked, looking at the creature.  “Lady Megan—”

“Nay, t wasn’t me,” Megan admitted.  “E’en such as I wouldst knoweth not to heft a hex like yond in our hence precarious situation.”

Daisyblaze crashed on deck, with four of the lampreybats hanging off her.  Twilight immediately moved to her side to use magic to pull her off.  “Did you see what that was?” she asked.

“No, not a clue,” she panted, weak from her wounds and the bats’ venom.  “I was busy dealing with our problem.”

“I can see that,” she said, carefully rendering medical assistance.  “Good job, Daisy.”

“Still, I don’t like it,” Ocean said as she morphed back to her normal form.  “It got the beasts off our backs, but the ship is heavily damaged and we’re going to have to look for a port soon.”

“No, we needst must sail onwards,” Megan told them.  “If’t be true we doth not stand ho the beldams, the ordinary shall lie in gravest peril.”

“Lady Megan, if the ship doesn’t get patched soon and the carcass of that ch’en off, we could capsize and then we’re going nowhere!” Coral told her.  “I know your mission is important, but how far are we going to get if we’re in the middle of the ocean and nowhere to make repairs?”

“Well, maybe they can help us!” Sundance pointed at something in the distance – a large, three-masted ship sailing towards them.  

“Good!  Daisy’s going to need more medical help than I can give her,” Twilight stated.  “We mages know some healing spells, but my second name is Starfield, not Sparkle.” 

“Hail it,” Megan ordered.  “We art in dire straits and the law of the flote, as I recall, requires those who can provision succor t’ those who hath request of such.”

“On it, Lady Megan,” Twilight replied, summoning a magic spell, then firing a signal tracer into the air.

As the ship grew closer, it was then that they noticed something about it was…odd.  For one, despite the fact that it sailed forward, the wind had begun to die down and so it wasn’t strong enough to billow the sails like they were.  Second, there was something…off about the sails and the wood itself: They looked somewhat translucent, like the ship’s timbers weren’t really wood or the sails not actually cloth.  Finally, as the newcomer approached, the crew and passengers of the damaged Seagull noticed there weren’t other seafarers on the other ship.

“What in Davy Pone’s Locker is going on?” Sundance asked.  “Where’s that ship’s crew?”

Coral and Ocean looked at each other, then shouted in unison, “All hooves – abandon ship!  Now!”

“Why?” Megan asked.

“That’s not a ship – that’s a mano’war!” the siren sisters called out.  “It’s a type of jellyfish that pretends to be a ship so that it can ambush other vessels!”

As if its plans had just been ruined, the two anchor ports on the bows blinked, revealing alien eyes that stared at them with an insatiable hunger.  Out of the water several stringy blue tentacles arose, some of which had anchor-like graspers at the end, but those weren’t the concern. No, that was saved for the second set of tentacles, all of which had orifices at the end that looked eerily like cannons. It didn’t help that they started to glow with the same intense blue light that had destroyed the ch’en earlier.

“Twilight!” Megan called out. “Shield us!”

“I can’t!” the unicorn called back.  “I’m using most of my magic to pull the venom out of Daisy!  If I stop now, she could go into shock!”

The “cannons” on the mano’war’s tentacles started to glow brighter, meaning it was going to cast the same spell.

Sundance raised her sword and shouted, “For the Alicorns!” rushing forward to see if she could absorb the blow.  She knew it would kill her, but if it meant her friends would survive, it would be worth it.

Meanwhile, Megan began to cast another spell.  She could cast a shield big enough to protect them, but being better at offense, she wasn’t as fast at casting defensive spells like shields.  And there was no guarantee she could do it in time.

The mano’war’s cannon appendages began to bead at the end with energy leakage, a sign it was going to fire.

At the edge of the starboard hull, Sundance stood, having sheathed her sword and withdrew her buckler.  It was larger than her but too comically small to block the blast that would soon come and reduce her to ashes and who knew what to the rest.

The spell in Megan’s hands grew, but she wasn’t sure if it would be enough.





The world flared in blue-silver.