A Candle in the Dark

"In the chaos of the ever turbulent world, change is the only constant."

A sharp clang of metal on metal rang out as Morenth swat the skeleton's axe aside. His sword guided the strike harmlessly to the side as he reversed the momentum on his weapon, slashing for the undead's midsection. Dawnbringer sang as it cut through rough cloth and bone alike, the holy enchantments in the blade igniting the abomination in a pyre of purifying flames.

He had no time to celebrate his victory as another clumsy strike came for his shoulder. It met only his shield as he raised it in defense, hooking the crude axe's blade over its lip.

With a twist of his torso Morenth pulled the axe from the attackers bony hand while at the same time burying his blade in its head with a crack. The strike was too deep, and Dawnbringer was stubbornly imbedded in the corpses skull. He grunted in dismay as precious seconds were lost trying to remove it.

A skeleton warrior took the advantage as its notched sword cut deeply into Morenth's back, biting through both his cloak and leather back harness.

With a roar of righteous fury Morenth took his sword in a double handed grip and heaved it around to meet his foe, blade and immolating corpse as one. They collided with bone shattering force, the corpse slain by Dawnbringer igniting the remaining skeleton as they crashed together.

As the last of the undead was dispatched a deathly silence fell over the battlefield. A silence that Morenth knew meant nothing. There were always more of the unholy beasts in places like this.

The ancient forest had grown tall by feeding on the blood of countless battles that had been waged in the aptly named Bloodwood. Now it feasted on the scores of the newly redead, if not slightly charred corpses Morenth left in his wake.

The forest, however, wasn't what the paladin was interested in. It was for the tomb that lay somewhere within its dark boughs that the holy knight had traveled within the forest's cursed borders.

Morenth doubled over as the pain he held back overcame him. The wound on his back was not the first he had sustained in the melee, and not the worst. He dug frantically through his belt pouch until he withdrew a small corked bottle filled with golden liquid.

His gloved hand was soaked with his own blood as he clutched tightly to the amulet he wore around his neck.

He uncorked the small bottle and poured its golden contents greedily down his throat and braced himself against what was to come.

Every cut and gash that covered his body began to burn with white hot agony as the wounds started to close on their own. His bones cracked painfully as fractures healed themselves, and through it all he whispered silent prayers to his goddess.

Morenth let out a final gasp of relief as the process ended, bringing the amulet he carried to his lips and kissed it in silent thanks. He felt the cool metal of the finely crafted relief of his goddesses' chosen form.

A unicorn.

Nobody in his generation had even seen a unicorn, not at least since the days of his forefathers, if he had any forefathers.

"As fictitious as unicorns perhaps," Morenth mumbled under his breath as he trudged his way through the foreboding wood.

He had been traveling for a fortnight, and was running low on supplies.

His body ached from almost constant exertion as he spent his days searching and his nights fighting, leaving little to no time for rest.

"As Yuelith guides me," Morenth chuckled as he spoke his own personal mantra.

As if called by his prayer the walls of an ancient fortress came into view against the backdrop of the forest's shadows. Its stonework was scarred and riddled with holes from some long forgotten war. Vines crawled up the sections where nature vied once again for supremacy.

Morenth walked under the half-collapsed arches of the outer keeps gate, finding himself dwarfed by the vast portal. When in use it could have played host to traffic three carriages across, and twelve lengths high should a merchant wish to test the limits of plausibility. The moon cast a shade of impenetrable darkness into the maw of the structure.

The paladin's musings were cut short as the scrape of metal on stone and the moans of undead horrors caught his ear. He hadn't planned on meeting resistance this far from the center of the structure, and any hope he'd harbored for short respite flew from him in a wave of righteous anger.

"Whatever calls itself the master of these halls, know this!" Morenth shouted, working himself into a fury as he readied Dawnbringer for the coming melee, "I bring the light of Yuelith to this forsaken place! Now burn with the fury of the rising dawn!"

With a roar, the paladin charged into the din of pooled shadows.

Dawnbringer, sensing the animated abominations, glowed with anticipation at the prospect of feeding the never-ending hunger of its holy fire. Its light illuminated the sickly yellow bones of walking skeletons and the grey decaying skin of horrifically malformed ghouls, the latter of which met Morenth's charge with shrieks of hunger.

The closest of the shrieking ghouls was met with Dawnbringer's blade, smashing as well as cutting through its disgusting face as its head ignited.

Morenth continued past the corpse without pause as the ghoul's funeral pyre illuminated the whole of the once darkened portal. Five strides from the main body of the host he whispered another silent prayer to his goddess; to be the instrument of her wrath.

When his charge met the first undead there were no tactics, no martial skill, not even the expert swordsmanship he had perfected from a young age.

There was only anger.

Instead of parrying, Morenth traded blow for blow, losing himself in his rage as he accepted vicious cuts and bludgeons from ruined weapons.

Dawnbringer cut wide swaths of flaming death as its wielder roared shouts of defiance, denying any wound to slow his sword arm.

As the din of combat died and the last of the undead was impaled upon his sword, Morenth couldn't stop himself as he let loose a fit of mad laughter.

It was cut short by a hand grabbing at his ankle.

The paladin shifted from insane mirth to deadly anger instantly as he drove his sword through the back of the downed ghoul. Flames erupted from its body as it flailed, wailing as the necromancy that animated it was consumed by holy magic.

A stink rising from the immolating corpse forced a wince from Morenth as he fought against his memories in a losing battle. The screams of loved ones from a life he'd never known flooded his thoughts.

As always they were accompanied by the ever present, suffocating heat of fire.

He hastily dug through his belt pouch, withdrawing another of the small bottles of restorative potion and desperately downed the contents.

This time Morenth welcomed the pain as his wounds sealed shut, drowning out his emotional turmoil with physical agony as his focus.

His painful memories washed away along with the searing heat of the alchemical substance mending his physical hurts. Slowly, he took a fortifying breath before spitting the remaining blood out of his mouth, and fixed the looming keep with a hateful glare. The number and strength of the undead would only grow as he drew closer to the center... and his purpose.

'Only two left,' the paladin thought morosely as he took stock of his remaining potions.

Duty won over hatred, though not without great internal struggle as Morenth realized he couldn't triumph over the full strength of the combined host.

Only with great reluctance did he choose a route that would, with luck, get him past the bulk of the undead horde unnoticed. The parapets would at least limit the amount of foes that could surround him at once, and give him a direct route into the center of the keep. From there he would work his way down into the catacombs.

Morenth clicked his tongue with the eager anticipation of the completion of his purpose. Even if there was an army within the walls of the fortress, it would matter little. It still had one fatal weakness- his target.

"Uh, Twilight are you sure about this?" Spike asked as he looked over the edge of a sizeable tome at the lavender unicorn, with obvious apprehension.

Twilight sighed in exasperation, for what seemed like the dozenth time that day.

"Yes Spike, I'm absolutely sure. Now hold the book steady."

The baby dragon rolled his eyes but went unnoticed, his head obscured by the oversized burden as he attempted to lift it higher for Twilight to read.

She scanned the pages, flipping through them at a rapid pace.

"You know, you could just ask the princess to teach you," he suggested for the third time.

"Spike, I couldn't possibly ask princess Celestia to teach me. I don't think she even suspects that I've used dark magic. If I were to ask what the limits of a spell she never intended to teach me were, she'd immediately find out that I'm studying it and tell me to stop," the lavender unicorn said, her stress rising with every word until it was bordering on panic.

"Well, maybe she'd have a point, Twilight," Spike said, the worry evident in his voice, "All this dark magic stuff is kinda creepy, if you ask me."

Twilight blanched at the thought of being denied a whole new field of study.

"Creepy? CREEPY!?" Twilight asked Spike rhetorically, her voice rising in volume with every word. "A previously undiscovered field of magic is within ponykind's grasp and all you can call this new facet to magical theory is 'CREEPY'!?"

Her eyes had dilated by the end of her rant, and she was huffing through her snout in the way only ponies could.

Spike was about to argue but decided to quit while he was ahead. When Twilight got like this nothing could stop her.

"Well yeah," he continued, "Just don't do anything too dangerous. Okay?"

"Don't worry, Spike, when have I ever not been able to master a spell?" Her voice softened as she looked under the tome to offer her assistant a reassuring smile.

"That's what I'm afraid of," Spike muttered under his breath.

Desperate Arrivals

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"When you stare persistently into the abyss, the abyss also stares into you."

-Friedrich, Nietzsche

The caverns below the keep were pitch black as Morenth made his way slowly into the deep, feeling his way along the walls with as much caution as he could muster. It's unyielding darkness was unnaturally cold, and rank with the smell of decay, having housed the dead of the castle long before even the taint had twisted it in the days before the world was cursed.

Morenth's trek into the catacombs had been eerily quiet. The long hallways of the keep's upper floors had been devoid of life, or un-life. He was vaguely disappointed and slightly unnerved at the lack resistance from the undead. Unthinking as they were, what guided their actions was not.

As the paladin finished the disturbing thought his guiding hand met air, causing him to take pause as he reached blindly for something to orient himself.

Feeling the end of the corridor's wall as well as the conflicting air currents, Morenth assumed he'd come to a crossroad. He waited for any sign of movement in the darkness, or for any indication as to which path he should take.

Long moments stretched out as he attempted to sense the catacombs source of undeath, sure that his purpose awaited somewhere close to it.

It was an impossible feat. The whole underdark was saturated with necromantic energies, and they quickly overwhelmed his limited magical senses. Morenth repressed the urge to gag as its presence seemed to ooze around him in his heightened state of sensitivity.

The paladin was so repulsed by the undead aura that he nearly missed the strange humming sound coming from the left corridor.

"I think it should be a little more to the left Spike," said Twilight, pacing left and right while scrutinizing the pedestal her assistant was dragging across the floor of the library's basement.

Its naturally formed floor was dominated by the geometrical chalk markings of Twilight's spell matrix.

"No no, a little more to the right," she interjected quickly as Spike groaned in agitation. The environs necessary for the experiment were almost in place, and Twilight was far too excited to notice Spike's mounting frustration.

"Oh I know, I'll just go get a measuring tape and..." Her voice trailed off as she noticed the deadpan look from her assistant and gave him an embarrassed smile. "On second thought, it's good where it is. Thank you, Spike."

Twilight nearly squealed with excitement as she prepared to commence the first round of tests, turning her attention to the pedestal with obvious enthusiasm.

The pedestal in question was a remarkably well crafted tool, expertly cut entirely from crystal. This insured the maximum level of magical conductivity that was necessary for her experiment, and had not been easy to obtain. It had taken a mountain of letters to Canterlot University pleading for its use, and more than a few promised favors to the dean.

More central to her experiment than the pedestal was the spherical diamond that rested in the crystalline bowl at its zenith.

"Alright Spike, we're about to begin, prepare to take notes." Twilight looked over to her assistant to find him with paper and quill already in claw.

Her number one assistant, she corrected with a smile.

"Test one," Twilight began with a professional tone, "Test objective; to ascertain the limit to which dark magic can be stored and maintained."

She paused to collect her focus.

"Commencing test."

Morenth's breath came in shivering gasps as he made his way blindly through the dark catacombs. The unnatural cold had become almost debilitatingly frigid, causing his hands to shake uncontrollably.

The humming sound he'd heard at the crossroad was getting steadily closer with every cautious step he took, and Morenth wondered if there was a connection between the sound and the steadily dropping temperature.

The paladin stopped abruptly, his thoughts interrupted by a ghostly light spilling out onto the walls of the catacombs from an adjoining portal further down the corridor.

Morenth slid along the wall, keeping to the shadows as he made his way to the corner of the entryway. The dark stones that lined it were sheathed in a fine coat of frost that seemed to be advancing at a slow pace. Even with his magical sensitivity overwhelmed and useless he knew his purpose lay within the next chamber.

This close to the source of the noise Morenth could hear the cadence of a voice within the humming.

Chanting.

The paladin steeled himself, clutching both the hilt of Dawnbringer and the amulet around his neck, ready to do what had to be done to be quit of this horrid place.

He steadied his breathing and chanced a quick glance inside, cringing as the light coming from the chamber touched his face. It burned in the same manner that frostbite might, instantly stealing all warmth from his skin.

Then Morenth saw it.

Its dark form loomed over a pedestal at the center of an antechamber at the far end of the main chamber, rapt in a shadowy substance as one might wear a cloak. The archlich had its back turned to him and was enraptured in its slow chanting, too busy with its unholy ritual to notice him.

Morenth examined the chamber, searching for his intended target. No matter how much skill Morenth possessed an archlich was not an opponent he could defeat in even combat. Even Dawnbringer's holy might would do little but hinder the ascended undead.

Regardless, Dawnbringer quietly slid free of its sheath, balancing comfortably in his grip as its hungry glow silently assured him of victory.

The normally taciturn paladin gave his silent companion a rare grin of genuine thanks, and turned a stony glare to the shadowy figure.

"As Yuelith guides me," Morenth intoned boldly, still grasping tightly to his amulet as he strode through the portal to meet whatever end his goddess had set before him.

"Monster!" The paladin shouted, "Face me!"

"Twilight!? Twilight!" Spike shouted, fear threatening to overcome him as he watched the scene before him in horror.

Twilight's eyes were black pits of pure dark energy, overflowing from her like a mist that swirled around the floor she was now floating over.

The dark aura surrounding her horn was mirrored by a similar field enveloping a now black diamond. It emanated a deathly cold that Spike could feel in his bones, like it was slowly sucking the life out of him.

Spike ran toward her in an attempt to pull her away from the dark influence, but was repulsed by an unseen force as he tried to cross the ritual circle. It tossed him across the room like a rag doll, smashing him into a nearby bookcase.

He shook himself free of his daze, looking on helplessly as his oldest friend and so much more only descended further into the darkness.

The lich did face him, and Morenth regretted dearly his choice of words. It's eyes were tiny pricks of glowing hellfire set into a vaguely human skull that had been horrifically elongated.

Even with righteous fury rising in his breast, Morenth couldn't help but shudder as it spoke.

"Why do you disturb me, mortal?" The lich spoke with a voice that was pervasive as a whisper and yet more forceful than a roar.

A loud crack echoed off the walls as the huge tower maul it had summoned fell from the air, crushing the stone tiles at its side to dust. The maul's unbelievably massive shaft was lined with downward facing, cruelly bladed hooks and was truly a terrible sight to behold.

Both fear and rage mixed in Morenth's breast as he fought to control both, his heart beating wildly while he searched the room for his only chance for victory.

The glow of the antechamber drew his attention as he was about to resign himself to a hopelessly pitched battle followed by certain death.

Morenth stopped breathing as he found the source of the pale light floating above the obsidian pedestal.

Instead of answering, he charged as the hope of victory tipped the scales of his internal battle in fury's favor. A charge that nearly spelled Morenth's end as the lich met his fury with impossible speed, swinging its massive maul in a devastating downward strike.

He threw himself to the right with all the speed he could manage, leaping out from under the bludgeon's path as it caught the air where his head had been just moments before.

He hit the ground in a roll, recovering from the dodge without pause, but when Morenth's focus went back to his opponent he found the lich had shortened the arch of its swing, changing the maul's momentum in the direction of his escape.

Without a chance to set his stance the blow impacted mercilessly into his raised shield arm.

The shield buckled and bent as the paladin was knocked off his feet by the sheer ferocity of the impact.

Morenth choked back a gasp of pain as his arm hit the ground along with his body, sending waves of nausea through his body. The blow had shattered his shield arm from wrist to elbow, making any future attempt at blocking futile as it lay uselessly limp at his side.

He recovered his senses just in time to roll out from under yet another downward strike, blasting stone and mortar into rubble as it smashed into the ground. While rolling, his ruined shield caught on the ground, twisting it from him in an explosion of agony.

Allowing his rage to flare, Morenth came out of the sideways roll on his feet, this time not loosing track of his opponent in the maneuver. When the follow up blow came he ducked under it, moving inside the lich's guard and thrusting Dawnbringer into the abomination's eye socket.

It wailed in furious pain as Dawnbringer's holy fire erupted from under its cowl, eliciting a mad grin from Morenth who was prying his blade loose for another strike. The undead let go of its weapon, staggering back from the agony of his blade's enchantment.

The paladin raised Dawnbringer for an overhead chop with all his strength behind it when the lich's bony hand shot out, piercing Morenth's chest.

"Twilight?! Twilight!" a familiar voice called through the shade, cutting through the fog of Twilight's mind.

It had reached her through the darkness but she had little hope in reaching it as the voice seemed to come to her from over a long distance, muted and indistinct.

The void was all Twilight could see, stretching out all around her in the purest expression of endless nothing. Her sharp mind went through a hundred different scenarios, trying to deduce what had gone wrong with the experiment but found her thoughts unwinding before she could complete them.

Morenth bit back a cry of anguish as his fury rose to fight back the frost that seemed to course through his veins.

The lich hadn't physically pierced his body, instead it had thrust an incorporeal limb through his chest. This meant little to an archlich as it began to suck the very life from Morenth's body.

He'd made the fatal mistake of giving into his rage, forsaking his plan in the heat of the moment when his hatred for the monster had overflowed.

Morenth's breath came in shallow rasps as he looked over his shoulder to the obsidian pedestal. His desperate rolling and dodging had thankfully positioned him close enough to salvage his plan.

Twilight panicked as she tried to remember her parents faces, the day she'd been accepted to Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns, anything to focus on but found only distorted images.

She started reciting the names of her friends, clinging desperately to her remaining memories.

"Rarity. Applejack. Pinkie Pie. Fluttershy. Rainbow Dash. Rarity. Appleja-" she repeated it over and over, the names becoming more vague with each iteration.

There were tears in her eyes as the image of each of her friends became indistinct, until she clung to her very last memory.

She wept as she called out the last name she could remember over and over.

"Spike! Spike! Spike! Spi-" Twilight cried out, trying to remember all of the important memories. The day he was born. The first time he'd called her name. His crush on Rarity. His favorite food. His birthday. His name. Her little brother.

With a roar of defiance Morenth twisted around to face the pedestal. The disembodied hand of the lich passed through more of his flesh, dragging his life force out even faster. The paladin didn't care as long as the undead abomination went with him.

"You don't belong in this world or any, monster!" The paladin fixed the small gem in the basin of the pedestal with a glare of pure hatred, raising his holy blade overhead as he prepared to strike.

Morenth's rage once again guided his hand as Dawnbringer came down like an executioner's axe on the exposed phylactery, shattering the gem in a blaze of fiery elation.

The archlich shrieked in pure anguish as the only thing tying it to its corporeal form was pulverized into tiny fragments.

It quickly ripped its hand out of Morenth's back, focusing solely on its survival. A rift tore the air asunder as it tried to make its way into the void between planes before whatever remnants of its wretched soul faded away.

Summoning all of his remaining strength Morenth turned on the lich, intoning a prayer to Yuelith as he rushed at the undead. He was no priest, but in its weakened state he had confidence that his prayer would be enough.

The paladin grabbed the incorporeal cloak of the lich as it made its way through the portal, determined to keep the wraith-like undead in the realm of the living long enough to destroy it.

"You won't escape, undead filth!" Morenth yelled as he set his feet firmly in a wide stance.

It thrashed violently against his grip and dragged his arm through the extra-planar rift, causing him to growl with anger as his thoughts became fuzzy.

The disorientation the paladin suffered from contact with the void was so acute he didn't notice until it was too late, the sudden change in resistance as the archlich slipped through his fingers.

Morenth shouted in unintelligible rage as he reached deeper into the void, grasping angrily and blindly for the escaping abomination.

Finally his hand found something solid in the darkness of the void. With his righteous fury rekindled he pulled with all his might, falling backwards as the object gave no resistance.

His breath was knocked out of him as the creature he'd pulled from the void landed on him with an audible thud. He coughed loudly and his eyes watered, wheezing as he tried to regain his ability to breath.

Slowly, the paladin recovered and began to shift the uncomfortable weight off of him. He only succeeded in rolling it off his left side and onto his shattered arm.

Morenth let out a choked cry of pain, struggling to remove his ruined arm from under creature only to stop rigidly and stare in gobsmacked wonder.

He'd never seen a real unicorn, but after being raised in the Abby surrounded by depictions of Yuelith there was no debate in his mind that the creature that laid next to him was a unicorn, though it was much smaller than his childhood imaginings.

The paladin looked on in shocked silence as the lavender unicorn whimpered in its state of unconsciousness, cringing as he carefully removed his battered arm.

In the distance he heard the shrieks of ghouls sprinting into the catacombs eager for living flesh now that their master was no longer there to prevent it. inwardly, he cursed his state of shock for allowing him to miss his window of opportunity to flee.

Morenth instinctively rose to meet the undead prepared to face them to whatever end when he paused, turning his gaze once again to the unconscious unicorn. His hand went to his belt pouch, feeling the corked bottles within.

"Only two left." He chuckled, another rare smile gracing his features.

For once the paladin was glad duty had won over hatred.

Companions of Circumstance

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"There was never a man born so wise or good, but one or more companions came into the world with him, who delight in his faculty, and report it. I cannot see without awe, that no man thinks alone and no man acts alone, but the divine assessors who came up with him into life,--now under one disguise, now under another,--like a police in citizen's clothes, walk with him, step for step, through all kingdoms of time."

-Ralph Waldo Emerson (1860)

Morenth cradled the small unicorn's head in the crook of his uninjured arm, holding one the golden bottles of alchemical healing in the same hand as he uncorked it with his mouth and spit the stopper out onto the floor.

It looked to be physically unwounded but was cold to the touch, having been fully exposed to the deathly chill of the planar void.

The paladin leaned in close and whispered a silent apology into the unicorn's ear as he pushed the bottle to its lips, awkwardly pouring the liquid into the small creature's mouth.

A few moments passed before it began thrashing wildly, fighting against him as he attempted to keep the creature from hurting itself. During the struggle, the unicorn cried out in a way Morenth hadn't expected, with a voice.

"Spike!" the unicorn strained pitifully with a weak, feminine cry.

Worry aside, the paladin was pleasantly surprised that she could speak. He'd heard that some magical beasts understood the common tongue, and having the ability to communicate with her would be invaluable during their escape.

As if to punctuate his thoughts another wave of shrieking madness reverberated off the stone corridors of the catacombs, reminding Morenth of how little time they had.

He lowered the unicorns head as gently as he could in his haste, taking the last of his potions in hand and downing it in a single draft.

The golden poultice waited only a few seconds before filling his veins with liquid fire.

Morenth squeezed the unbroken upper half of his ruined arm as waves of agony poured through him, grinding his teeth together in an attempt to keep himself from shouting profanities. The last thing he needed at the moment was a pitched battle with his back to a wall.

Minutes seemed to stretch on for hours as his bones reknitted themselves, taking noticeably longer to heal than his fractures from earlier. He focused himself on listening for any more signs of ghouls closing in around them when a groan of protest cut his concentration.

"What in the name of Celestia is...?" a soft, but weary voice behind him questioned before trailing off.

The paladin felt her eyes on him. He turned to face her, preparing to explain the dire situation, but jolted his still mending arm during the movement.

The lavender unicorn stumbled back against the wall as Morenth let out an unintentional snarl of pain, cringing as it elicited a look of fear from the mare.

"Wait!" Morenth intoned forcefully, "I mean you no harm!"

Twilight groaned as she awoke shivering, suddenly aware of her new surroundings.

Pervasive darkness dominated most of her vision as her eyes moved quickly, taking in every detail of the horrifying chamber she found herself in.

She started to panic as her thoughts went back to her time in the void, but found her memories intact, causing a wave of relief to wash over her.

Spike. Rainbow Dash. Applejack. Fluttershy. Rari...

A figure obscured by the darkness caused Twilight to stall as she was recalling the precious names of her friends and family.

"What in the name of Celestia is...?" She began, trailing off as she examined the strange creature, becoming slowly aware of its unsteady breathing.

The tall bipedal creature stood at the edge of what little light illuminated the room, casting its face in deep shadows as it turned and snarled like a vicious animal. Her initial curiosity was crushed in a wave of instinctual fear as she fell against the wall at her back, understanding on a primal level that the creature was predatory in nature.

"Wait!" It spoke with a youthful, masculine voice, "I mean you no harm!"

It stepped fully into the pale light with one of its limbs held out disarmingly while the other seemed to hang limp at its side.

Twilight was about to give voice to the hundreds of questions buzzing around in her head when the creature suddenly tensed, rushing towards her as it scooped up and sheathed a sword lying on the ground in one fluid motion.

"Wha-!?" she managed to shout before the creature was on her, pinning her to the wall as the room's light diminished to a dim glow.

Any further protest was rendered mute by a hand held firmly over her snout.

"Don't. Shout," it commanded quietly into her ear, freezing her movements, "Please, I mean you no harm, but you're going to have to listen to me if you wish to survive."

It pulled away slightly as if to measure her response, the pale light illuminating its features as it looked into her eyes. Its own eyes reminded Twilight of a timber wolf she'd once observed in the Everfree while studying wildlife, not in shape but in their intensity.

Twilight's thoughts on what the creature intended, or what it could possibly mean by 'if she wished to survive' were cut short by a series of horrifying shrieks echoing through the chamber.

She felt the hackles on her withers rise as the shrill sounds drew closer, looking to her captor for answers. Whatever made the terrifying cries sounded far worse than the snarl the creature before her had given, promising suffering and painful death.

With her snout held firmly shut she merely nodded her assent to the apparent lesser of two evils who eased its grip on her mouth as it pulled away from her.

"Morenth," it whispered abruptly.

"What?" Twilight asked, expecting more of an explanation than a single word.

"My name. It's Morenth," it offered tersely, "Yours?"

"Oh-uh," she fumbled, not expecting 'him', she decided, to offer the courtesy, "It's Twilight, Twilight Sparkle. Is this really the best time though?" she added, noting the incredulity of introductions given the situation.

"Yes," Morenth stated simply, a ghost of a smile tugging at his mouth. It was short lived as he once again adopted a severe expression.

"Follow close behind me. If we get ambushed keep going and don't look back, I'll catch up later." Morenth continued on to explain the path to the parapets as he remembered it, giving her time to memorize it as he checked his equipment.

Dawnbringer rested easily in its sheath, content to be at its wielders side once again, but his shield laid in a ruined heap across the room, battered beyond repair by the lich's maul.

Morenth's anger threatened to flare at the thought of the archlich's escape. He'd had it in his grasp, and the failure gnawed at him, dowsing a fresh well of rage from the paladin.

He looked once again to Twilight who was rummaging through a shelf of decrepit tomes that had presumably belonged to the lich, cursing quietly under her breath.

"Is there a problem?" Morenth intoned as softly as possible, not willing to let his annoyance show. They were surrounded in a crypt full of undead and she was busy reading.

"Yes. Yes, there is!" Twilight whispered with exasperation, displaying the tome she had been reading with a surprising use of arcane telekinesis, "This book, I can't read it, any of it!"

Morneth's frustration was mounting, but he managed to keep his expression even.

"Twilight, it's written in a dead language. I can't read it either," he said turning to the entrance of the dark corridors.

He quietly reflected on what Twilight had just said as she breathed a sigh remorse, questioning how she could speak the common tongue, but not be able to tell its script apart from an ancient language. Perhaps she was a scholar of many languages and finding one she couldn't recognize irked her. Somehow, he felt his guess was spot on.

Putting his musings aside in favor of the present, Morenth moved to the chamber's only exit. He scouted the adjoining passage, painfully aware of how useless the act was in the dark catacombs.

With caution the paladin stepped out into the pitch black corridor, listening intently for any movement but found nothing.

Morenth grew more optimistic about their egress as the trek through the underdark met no resistance, coming upon the first crossroad that the paladin had used to gain access to the catacombs in a matter of minutes.

Upon rounding the corner Morenth's foot caught on something brittle, snapping it in two and causing him to loose balance. In the absolute darkness of the corridor he failed to find purchase on the nearby wall, and fell into a pile of similarly splintery objects, crunching loudly as he hit the ground.

He was trying to find his way out of the tangle when Twilight tripped over his feet, falling forward with an audible thud.

"Ow! Watch where you're going, Morenth!" the lavender mare moaned as she tried to extract herself from the twisted knot, hitting something hard with her head in the process, "Ouch! Okay, I think we need some light."

Morenth didn't know how she intended to produce light, but his realization of what they were currently laying in caused his mind to cry out in warning. He was about to voice this as Twilight radiated a pink tinted light from her horn.

"No, wait!" he whispered harshly, his warning coming to late.

The burnished arcane glow cut jagged swaths of dancing shadows as it fell over the bones of a dozen once entombed bodies.

Twilight stared into the eye sockets of a still rotting skull for several moments before loosing a shrill scream that echoed through all the halls of the catacombs.

Though his reaction was late, Morenth clamped a hand over the irate mares snout, cutting off her panicked scream as he freed himself from the bone pile.

The crossroads, once again shrouded in darkness as Twilight's light spell faded, fell deathly quiet.

Morenth expanded his spiritual senses hastily as he listened for the inevitable, straining his ears and mind to catch the slightest evidence of detection. He needn't have bothered as the the shrieks of more than a hundred ghouls answered, mewling like animals before a meal.

"Run!" he shouted, no longer concerned with giving away their position as the undead moved through the underground maze to surround them.

They burst into a mad sprint for the exit only a short distance away, pushing harder as the animalistic sounds of hunger nipped at their heels.

Morenth kept pace with Twilight as best he could, fighting off fatigue that threatened to slow his pace as the ghouls behind began to close the gap between them. The strain of a head on fight with an ascended undead and its countless minions on his way to the ruined castle compounded with multiple bouts of healing his damaged body was starting to tax even his reserves.

They flew through the entrance of the tower that would lead to the parapets, hugging the spiral staircase as the hungry masses of hands pawed at them from behind. One managed to grab hold of Morenth's cloak as it bellowed out behind him, slowing him considerably. With a snarl of protest he ripped the clasp free, discarding the cloak as the light of day became apparent from the upper levels.

"There!" the paladin called breathlessly, pointing to the sun filled exit, "Run on!"

As Morenth cleared the entrance behind Twilight a ghoulish hand found purchase on his now exposed leather harness, holding him fast between the daylight and the darkness of the keep. He fought back viciously, throwing elbows and thrashing to remove the death grip. Slowly, he began to lose ground as more hands joined the first, finding the leather straps of his armor.

The paladin's hand went to Dawnbringer's hilt as his fury began to rise, even knowing he was likely at his end. As his trusted blade began to slide from its sheath an arcane blast of purple magic seared past his shoulder and into the host of ghouls, sending many tumbling over each other.

The hordes collective grip loosened as Twilight fired another scathing trail of magic into it, allowing Morenth the chance he needed to escape. With a grunt of surprise he threw himself toward the safety of sunlight, crashing to the ground at Twilights hooves.

"Come on, get up!" the lavender unicorn implored, panting from panic and exertion. "Morenth!"

"Calm yourself, Twilight." Morenth sighed after regaining his breath, pushing himself upright. "The undead can't survive the light of day. We're safe here."

True enough, the shrieks of the of the undead had turned to soft mulling as the horde of malformed bodies pressed tightly against the shadow's edge, looking for a way to get to their prey.

He walked over to her as she mulled over the revelation, kneeling down to eye level. "Twilight," he said, getting her attention, "Why did you come back for me?"

"What?" Twilight asked, thoroughly confused by the sudden question, "Why wouldn't I?"

The paladin almost cracked a smile as he placed his hand on her head, looking over the walls of the parapets to the rising sun.

"We should be on our way," Morenth said, rising to his feet, "We have a long distance to cover before we're truly free of this darkness."

Restless Respite

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"The World is a book, and those who do not travel read only a page."

-Saint Augustine

The canopy of the Bloodwood became less oppressive as Morenth and Twilight moved at a brisk pace through the forest, casting pools of light where the branches were thinnest.

"Equestria?" Morenth repeated, cringing as the lavender mare gave him a hopeful look. "My apologies Twilight, I've never heard of it."

Her features were crest fallen as she stared at the ground around her hooves, appearing lost in thought.

Morenth felt he should speak his mind as he already had a good idea where Twilight's home was, or wasn't in this case.

"Twilight," he began gently, more than a little apprehension apparent in his voice, "I don't think you're... from here."

"You don't say," Twilight deadpanned, cocking an eyebrow sarcastically, "Did the horribly mutated zombies of a species I've never even heard of tip you off?"

Morenth sighed, tempering his annoyance with discipline as he chose his next words carefully.

"What I'm trying to say is that you're probably not even native to this world. No one has seen a unicorn for thousands of years," the paladin intoned thoughtfully, stopping a few moments later when he noticed Twilight was no longer beside him.

She'd stopped in the tall grass of a clearing, her eyes moving in rapid motion as she absorbed the revelation. After several minutes the unicorn collected herself and looked to him once more, her expression holding an inquisitive air.

"The only way you could draw this conclusion is if you know something you're not telling me," Twilight said, remarkably keeping any accusation out of her statement.

He hadn't hidden the events in the catacomb prior to Twilight's arrival out of spite or secrecy. It was that the simple act of remembering the clash drew from him a deep seeded rage at the lich who had escaped, and at himself for having let it. There was no real reason not to tell her though, so he spent the time walking to recount the conflict and subsequent arrival of Twilight, detailing as much as possible about the latter subject.

"If you don't mind my asking Twilight, how did you manage to enter the void between planes?" Morenth finished, finding it hard to believe such an occurrence was coincidental. "To my knowledge only highly accomplished sorcerers could manage such a feat and in a limited facet."

"I-" Twilight faltered, hiding her reddening face as she turned her head away from him, "I overestimated myself. I didn't take the risks seriously enough, and I made the stupid mistake of thinking I understood enough of the mechanics of dark magic to experiment with it."

The lavender unicorn was too busy venting about her error to notice Morenth's expression darken, continuing at an increasingly rapid pace as she poured out her thoughts.

"I just don't know what went wrong! My calculations should have been perfect. Maybe there was a mistake in the matrix or the vessel was insufficient. Oh, if only I had my notes I cou-Morenth?" Twilight halted her rambling when she noticed the paladin's fists clenched at his side in barely contained ire.

"Do you know what you've done!" Morenth stormed, his control snapping like a dry twig under boot.

The paladins hand reached for the hilt of his sword as he turned on the mare who fell on her flank, stunned at his angry outburst.

"I-uh?!" Twilight stammered in confusion at her new companions sudden aggression, seeming caught between explaining herself and fleeing.

Morenth cleared his thoughts as he unsheathed the blade, intent on carrying out his duty. Even attempting the dark arts was an offense punishable by death. There were no exceptions.

But she was a unicorn. A messenger of the Goddess, and the symbol of his faith. By what right could he judge her? Was she even what he thought she was? Or was she just a trick to sidetrack him from his original purpose?

'Twilight, why did you come back for me?'

'What? Why wouldn't I?'

The paladin's sword stalled mid-draw as he fought an intense battle within himself, feeling unfamiliar emotions play across his face.

Twilight recovered from her shock, looking to his face with concern in her eyes.

Morenth was taken aback as he realized the feeling of blood trickling down his chin, suddenly aware he'd been biting the inside of his lip.

"Morenth, are you ok? You're bleeding," Twilight asked, taking a cautious step toward him.

Dawnbringer snapped back into its sheath as the paladin sighed heavily, forcing his anger into submission.

"Yes... I'm fine. I'm sorry you had to see that." Morenth intoned softly, finally reigning in his emotions with a concerted effort.

The unicorn nodded but didn't look away.

"We should get that cleaned up first," she said, taking another step toward him.

Twilight's horn lit up but he waved her away, wiping the blood from his face.

"It's not your concern, I've had far worse than a bloody lip." Morenth declared, uncomfortable with accepting the help of one he had only moments before been steeling himself to execute.

"Of course it's my concern!" Twilight shot back indignantly, "It's always my concern when my friends are hurt."

Morenth stared at her with wide eyes as he processed what she had said.

"How can you call me a friend?" he asked, her declaration bringing more unfamiliar emotions to the surface, "You've known me for less than a day."

Twilight just offered him a smile that, while warm, unsettled him in a way he couldn't place. People rarely smiled at him, some bowed in respect, others avoided him, but all feared him in one way or another. All that changed was the way they expressed it. He didn't blame them. Paladins, while champions of the people, were heralds of disaster. Where they appeared so did the dark things they faced.

Morenth decided to put his confused feelings away and focus on the task at hand.

"We should keep our minds on putting more distance between us and the keep."

The rest of the days walk went quietly with Twilight pondering the state of affairs she found herself in, and Morenth keeping his thoughts stubbornly on the path ahead instead of on the unicorn that trotted beside him.

The sun was already over the horizon when Morenth brought a halt to their trek, asking Twilight to help him set camp for the night. She complied readily, removing branches from the trees with her telekinesis for the fire as her companion went to gather what food he could.

Her task was a simple one and allowed her more time to think, an activity that held little reward lately. She didn't have enough information about the world she found herself in, and Morenth hadn't exactly been forthcoming on the subject, or any after the incident earlier that day. The last thing Twilight wanted was to agitate him more, but she needed to find out eventually, if for nothing else than to plan her next move.

Twilight went about her work, gathering the branches from the lower sections of the trees and the smaller sticks that were tangled in the underbrush for kindling.

When she returned to the camp site she found Morenth was still absent and began work on building their fire, arranging the branches in a meticulous pyramid fashion. The studious mare was delighted she'd read that book on camping 101, following the book's instructions to the letter.

A small spark from Twilight's horn ignited the kindling and soon she was rewarded with a warm fire. She lay down next to the glowing pyre as her stomach grumbled, complaining at her lack of nourishment for the last day and a half.

As if summoned by her hunger, Morenth emerged from the darkness of the woodline carrying a small burlap sack full of what she hoped was dinner.

Twilight's companion sat down next to her, pulling the draw strings on the sack to reveal an assortment of strange berries. He set them on the ground next to her and moved over to the opposite side of the fire, finding a good leaning position against a tree.

"What about you?" she asked hesitantly, eyeing Morenth with concern.

"I have my own food, though I don't think you'd appreciate eating dried meat." her companion explained as he drew out another sack from his belt, placing it in the grass next to him.

"So your species is carnivorous?" Twilight queried, attempting to lure the terse creature into light conversation.

"I can eat most plants as well if that's what you're asking," Morenth deflected, taking a bite of the tough jerky.

"Does your species have a name at least?" Twilight fished, causing him to sigh in exasperation as he took another bite.

"Listen Twilight, we'll have plenty of time to discuss any questions you might have on the road to Hollodrum tomorrow. Just try and get some sleep tonight. It's only half a days walking from here, but there will be a lot of matters to attend to when we get there."

It was Twilight's turn to sigh in exasperation, knowing Morenth wouldn't even be inclined to elaborate on what "Hollodrum" was. She assumed it was a town of some sort, but she had no idea what to expect.

Despite her dampened mood she found the berries to her liking, bitter with a sweet aftertaste.

Morenth sat comfortably, eating the last of his provisions while Twilight scarfed down what remained of her berries. The lavender unicorn gave a contented sigh when she finished, scooting closer to the warmth of the fire with a small yawn.

"If you won't answer my questions until tomorrow then the sooner morning comes the better." Twilight grumbled softly, her agitation dulled by exhaustion.

Morenth grunted in reply, folding his arms across his chest to keep the warmth in.

"Goodnight Morenth," the lavender mare whispered as she closed her eyes.

"Goodnight Twilight," the paladin replied quietly, settling himself in for the night.

"Morenth?" Twilight asked sleepily.

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

It was several moments before Morenth found his voice to respond.

"I've done nothing to deserve your gratitude," he finally replied, but it fell on deaf ears as he heard the slow, rhythmic breathing of sleep.

Morenth looked over to the sleeping mare, his face an unreadable mask as he fought back more confusing emotions from finding their way to the surface.

Alone with his thoughts and unable to sleep, the paladin expanded his senses both mundane and magical to the surrounding woods, searching for any signs of pursuit from the ancient fortress. When he was satisfied that any undead that came looking for them would be detected long before they were he settled into a state of wakeful reverie as he watched the dancing flames of the fire die slowly.

As the pyre became dimly glowing embers, Morenth turned his gaze once more to the small silhouette of Twilight's sleeping form.

"This will be a long journey," the paladin intoned forebodingly into the darkness of the clear night sky.

Streets of Grey

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"He who bestows something great receives no gratitude; for in accepting it the recipient has already been weighed down too much."

-Friedrich Nietzsche

"Morenth?"

"Another question?" the paladin groaned, only eliciting a wry grin from his equine companion.

He was starting to regret his promise to answer any questions she had thought up the night before.

Morenth had been prepared to provide all the general information about the continent of Soulis a wayward outsider might need, but what he hadn't counted on was Twilight's seemingly endless hunger for knowledge. Her questions had come non-stop since they'd set off at sun rise, raising questions from agriculture to politics with unending curiosity.

"How common are the undead in Soulis?" The lavender mare queried, finally touching on a subject the paladin was well informed of. "I can't imagine any society could function if there were monsters like those everywhere."

"More common than I'd like to admit," Morenth intoned, ferrowing his brow in thought, "For as long as anyone can remember they've plagued Soulis. Some accounts may differ but you'll be hard pressed to find a tome on history that doesn't mention them at least in passing. But worst still is how they're made..."

The paladin paused as a wave of nausea passed through him, trying hard to force down the unpleasent memories before they had a chance to show him ugly pictures of the past. Twilight raised an eyebrow questioningly, but remained silent as Morenth continued.

"...It's the disease that seems to infect us all. When someone dies in this world they will fill the ranks of the undead, rising from eternal sleep to hunt and feed on the living. It matters not if they are kings or serfs, lords or peasants. All rise..." The paladin's hand went unconsously to the amulet around his neck, clutching it tightly as the faces of the dead filled his thoughts.

"T-thats horrible!" Twilight managed, shuddering at the thought of becoming one of those things. "How do you live knowing something like that?"

"We manage," Morenth began, wondering just how much he should tell her, "It's common practice to burn the deceased immediatly after their death. Following the cremation a funeral is held, but it's not always that simple. There are always those who die unexpectedly, or those who have no families to provide the last rites."

The paladin could see Twilight piece together the outcome as her eyes grew wide with worry.

"Sometimes the damage is small, if they are discovered quickly, but more often than not they slip through the cracks, killing and turning others before the community can act. We've lost entire cities to stories like that," Morenth finished, withdrawing from conversation as he reflected on his own words.

Once again the two companions traveled in silence as Twilight tried to come to terms with the thought of entire cities collapsing. She attempted to picture a city like Fillydilphia or Manehatten suddenly vanishing, but just couldn't wrap her mind around such a terrible loss of life. It felt unreal in scope.

Morenth had taken to brooding as he walked quietly beside her, refusing to answer any more of her questions. His face betrayed little of his emotions with the exception of his eyes that were burning holes into the ground at his feet.

Twilight's thoughts shifted to their destination as it became clear that Morenth's mood wasn't going to improve any time soon, reviewing every detail about the town her companion had given her.

Hollodrum was located just south-west of the Bloodwood. She recalled Morenth saying they made their living by trading the lumber they harvested from the dangerous forest. It was settled two hundred and thirty years ago, and had survived countless infestations of the undead to which Morenth went into great detail. As far as Twilight was concerned, he was the subject matter expert where those creatures were involved. She would remember that when she wrote a comprehensive report on Soulis when... if she ever returned home.

"Twilight."

The unicorn was snapped from her thoughts by Morenth's call as he pointed ahead to a looming wall of spaded logs coming into view through the forest's edge.

"Is that Hollodrum?" Twilight asked in amazement, bulking at the size of the town's walls. She hadn't expected such an imposing sight from what Morenth had described as a "small" village.

"It is," Morenth stated simply as he looked down at her with slight hesitation, "Twilight, while we're in town don't leave my side. The folk of Hollodrum are a hospitable sort, but I wouldn't trust them alone with you."

"But-" she began to argue, however Morenth shot her a look that brooked no debate.

"You're a unicorn, Twilight. A creature that hasn't been seen in thousands of years. You would make a rare commodity in the black markets of Midrasis. Hollodrum may bow to the power of the church, but this far out on the frontier it wouldn't be surprising if an opportunistic knave tried to make a quick fortune from selling you. If they took you, there would be little hope of regaining the freedom you now enjoy," her severe friend lectured, stopping suddenly as he noticed the fear in her eyes. "No need to look so frightened, I would never allow such a thing to befall my...m-my..."

Morenth began to perspire as he struggled with the last word, shifting his weight uncomfortably with the effort.

"-My charge," he breathed with a sigh of relief.

Twilight giggled at his inability to accept the word "friend", but let the matter drop. In truth, she found his embarrassment a refreshing break from the oppressively dark world she found herself in.

Her friend huffed as he regained his composure, casting an agitated glare her way before they resumed their trek towards the gates.

"And besides, frontier folk tend to be a bit more than a little suspicious about anything out of the ordinary... Superstitious gits," Morenth said under his breath.

Morenth was in a state he hadn't expected to find himself since his days as a neophyte. He wasn't used to being flustered, and even less so by a purple unicorn.

The paladin managed to master himself before they reached Hollodrum's gate, only to find their way blocked by the sentry on duty.

"Halt! State your business," the gate guard demanded, thrusting his polearm's shaft into the dirt with a heavy thud. "And any reason you would have me believe for you traveling the dark roads."

The guard was a veteran by his age, but far too old to pose a serious threat. His hair was a sickly grey that clung to his head as he perspired under his chain mail and leather jerkin.

"My business is my own. I'll not be interrogated by tired old men," Morenth responded heatedly, annoyed by the presumptuous fool.

"Morenth! You don't have to be so rude, he's just doing his job!" Twilight interjected quickly, moving around from behind the paladin to apologize for the slight. "I'm so sorry for my friend's attitude, he's had a rough couple of days."

Twilight shot Morenth a scathing look as she bowed her head apologetically, missing the reaction on the guard's face.

"What foul witchcraft is this!?" the grizzled guard exclaimed, falling back into a ready stance with his halberd. "The creature talks! I'll not fall for your devilry, daemon!"

Morenth's anger flared suddenly at the guard's derogatory insult, immediately reaching for Dawnbringer's hilt.

"I'll not suffer you to insult a unicorn with your vulgar ignorance in my presence!" the paladin shouted, forcing the old fool to stumble back a few steps.

"U-unicorn?!" the guard stammered as he found his balance. "Nonsense, they're just a bunch o' fairy tales and bedtime stories for children!"

"But a daemon from Tartarus is more believable?" Twilight queried incredulously.

Morenth noted her use of the familiar term for the daemon world with unease, filing it away as something to ask her about later.

Thankfully, the guard appeared more confused as to whether his intelligence had just been insulted than at the question of Twilight's origins.

The old sentry regarded Twilight with suspicion bordering on hostility before looking once again to the paladin, sizing him up with wary eyes. His gaze stopped abruptly at the amulet around Morenth's neck, taking in the severity of who he was threatening.

"My apologies sir! I didn't realize you were a knight of Yuelith!" the suddenly polite guard exclaimed, managing a hasty bow while the paladin clicked his tongue in disgust.

'You bend knee too easily.'

"Indeed," Morenth commented, cocking an eyebrow expectantly as he released the grip on his sword, "Am I to expect passage, or should my companion and I plan on being delayed further?"

"Oh no sir, any o' the goddesses' flock are welcome in Hollodrum," the guard declared, whipping his head behind him to the walls. "Open the gate!"

Twilight moved at a trot beside Morenth as he made his way toward the opening portcullis.

"Knight of Yuelith huh?" the unicorn asked, looking at the paladin with exasperation, "Funny how that never came up."

The dripping sarcasm in her voice forced a defeated sigh from Morenth as he prepared to explain.

"Ask your questions Twilight. I'm sure you've enough to fill a book at this point," the tired paladin quipped, expecting a heated denial for his efforts.

"Three books actually," Twilight chirped, appearing quite pleased with herself before continuing, "First, who is Yuelith? The guard mentioned she was a goddess. Is she the ruler of Soulis?"

Morenth snorted in amusement, catching himself before he could laugh at the ridiculous image of High King Braxus IV with a loose fitting gown and tits.

"No Twilight," the paladin replied in a lecturing tone, struggling valiantly to keep a straight face as the image of the high king declared himself a goddess in the most feminine voice the grizzled old hero could muster. "Yuelith protects and guides us from a higher plane, watching over us in the form of the sun. It is by her grace the undead are unable to face the light of day."

"Oh... Y-yeah?" Twilight murmured falteringly, lowering her head in sudden depression, "A goddess of the sun huh...?"

Morenth's inner mirth died quickly in the face of his companions downcast expression.

They walked in silence once more while they made there way down the muddy alleys of Hollodrum, avoiding the main street to bypass the crowds of people that would likely make a scene if Twilight just strutted into their midst. The narrow side-streets offered privacy, but only served to dampen the mood that had settled over the two as they passed between dilapidated buildings of grey mortar and faded wood.

"This is our first stop," Morenth intoned as he motioned to a two story structure further down the path with a sign hanging over the entrance. A pair of crossing hammers adorned its weathered face.

The paladin walked through the open doorway when Twilight nodded without comment, knocking on the frame as he passed. A wave of heat and the rhythmic sound of clanging metal greeted him as he crossed the threshold, causing Morenth great physical discomfort as he began to sweat beneath his travel worn armor.

Twilight sucked in a quick breath as she entered the sweltering smithy behind him.

"What is this place?" the unicorn asked, drawn out from her sulking by renewed curiosity.

"A smithy. I need an armorer to repair my equipment," Morenth explained as he turned to scrutinize Twilight, fully inspecting her for sizes and measurements, "And to special order some protective equipment for yourself as well, since I assume you won't be looking to set up residence here in Hollodrum."

"Of course not! I have friends and family to go back to, and I can't afford to waste any time here. But I don't have money to pay for any of this," the lavender mare disputed, gesturing to the many display items of steel plate and chain mails adorning the walls.

"Don't worry Twilight, I'll cover the expenses," Morenth said, raising a hand as she looked ready to start arguing again, "Think of it as an investment. We'll be sharing the road for a while I expect. At least until you find a clue as to how you ended up in Soulis, and unless I'm mistaken you appear to be well versed in the arcane. A very useful skill to have in, and out of combat."

Before Twilight could respond, their conversation was interupted by the abrupt silence of the smithy, and the not so silent footfalls coming from the adjoining room of the smithy's forge.

"Who be messin' 'round in me shop withou' knockin'!? It be common courtesy ta announce yerselves when enterin' someone's home ye know!" bellowed a deep voice punctuated by loud, thundering footsteps.

The source of the voice was a large, grey bearded man with stocky legs and a huge barreled chest. His bulk filled the doorway as he squeezed his way through, groaning under his breath about what the proper size of doors should be.

"What're ye about, stormin' into me home?" the smithy asked gruffly, making his way over to the store's counter. "Don't ya gits know I got orders ta fill?"

"And one more to fill, if your skills are up to it," Morenth answered, unfazed by the boisterous display, reaching for the exposed straps of his half-plate cuirass with some effort.

He removed his armor in pieces, laying the battered mail, and sleeved brigandine vest on the counter in front of the impatient smithy. When finished, he wore only his white long coat as protection which was similarly battle worn, showing multiple cuts and tears smeared with dried blood. The coat would have to be mended as well, but that was no job for a blacksmith.

"Morenth?!" Twilight asked, distressed by what she must have assumed where open wounds.

"It's fine Twilight, they've already healed." the paladin replied as the stout smithy turned his curious eye from Morenth's scarred armor, seeking the source of the distraught voice.

When the armorer found the speaker's horned head halfway over the counter looking at Morenth with worry, he simply shrugged in an awesome display of acceptance. Either that or he just assumed he was hallucinating that a talking purple unicorn was standing in his shop and decided not to ask questions.

Turning his attention back to the ruined equipment, the blacksmith grunted in disapproval as he picked up Morenth's left gauntlet and ran his hand over the caved in steel.

"Must o' been some fight ta do this kind of damage. The steels a lil' ruff 'round the edges but it's sturdy work."

The armorer gave the breast plate on the counter a few taps with his massive fist, listening to the sound intently as he gauged the task before him.

"Shouldn't take me more than a few hours to mend the plates, but why's a knight wearin' such shoddily crafted armor?" the smithy with a half cocked grin, shifting the pile onto a sheaf of leather to carry. "Might ye've fallen on some hard times?"

Morenth scoffed at the claim.

"Hardly. My old suit got dowsed in acid, and as you can imagine, was beyond any smith's abilities to repair," the paladin explained, withdrawing the pouch from his belt that contained his travel funds.

"Well me'thinks ye should'a paid for somthin' better than yer last suit by the looks of it," the armorer commented wryly as he lifted the sack and walked back to his forge.

"Acid? How in Celestia's name did you end up covered in acid?" Twilight asked as the smithy left the room, looking at the paladin skeptically.

"Ulegroth," Morenth replied tersely as the armorer made his way back through the entrance of the forge, offering nothing further in an obvious attempt to pay her back for the unending flood of questions she'd inundated him with that morning.

"Tha'll be ten pieces silver an' two copper knuts when ye pick it up," the smith announced as he moved to the shop's exit to see them out.

"That's not the entire order," the paladin intoned, holding out a hand to bar the smith's path, "I'd also like some armor made for my companion here."

Morenth motioned to an embarrassed looking Twilight.

"Oh? Then it's real is it? Thought fer a moment ay was losin' me head," the armorer said with a shrug, leaning over to inspect the lavender unicorn, "Will then lil' missy, what ye got in mind?"

Author's Notes:

Truth is revealed in the seeking not the finding. It cannot be defined or explained, only sought.

I write this now not only for others but to myself, so that I may never forget the expression of my soul.

I will state it now that my soul is to travel: To journey and observe. I was not gifted with the temperance to teach so I will strive to find as much truth as I am able before my death.

This is my will, my intent, and my belief: That only in the soil of the land of which they were born can you understand its people.

Culture, tradition, faith, beliefs, and fundamental truths can be found within the very land beneath their feet. I assert that there is as much truth in the world as there is soil, rock, and sand. To this end I will seek to see it all, and engrain within myself as many sights, sounds, and smells that my finite life will allow.

When my travels in this life are over I will leave it to the children of the future to carry on the journey, in the hopes that humanity is worth saving.

Smoldering Coals

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"Anger is an acid that can do more harm to the vessel in which it is stored than to anything on which it is poured."

-Mark Twain

Twilight was in a dour mood as she and Morenth made their way through the many side streets of Hollodrum towards an inn that her friend had a room reserved in.

She hadn't asked for, or even wanted the equipment Morenth had ordered for her, however in the face of his generosity and the smith's unexpected enthusiasm she had no choice but to relent, relegating herself to casting uncomfortable looks at her friend while the massive armorer took her sizes. Thankfully the smith had accepted her input on the design, asking at least for something light and easy to move in. He'd promised she'd be pleased with the results, but that hadn't relieved the mare of her reluctance.

"Hmm, we might have to forgo any upscale lodgings on the road for a while," Morenth said next to her as he rattled his coin pouch in the cup of his hand, listening to the tinkling sound of the noticeably emptier sack. "The price that smith asked for was practically extortion."

"Then why did you agree to it?" Twilight asked, slightly frustrated by the knight's apparent ignorance of her apprehension.

"Because, no matter the price, you'll need protection when we travel the path to Kaldoon," Morenth replied, staring out over the wooden walls of Hollodrum to the west with a distant expression.

"Kaldoon? Since when did we decide to go there? Wherever there is," the lavender mare asked heatedly, "Were you even going to ask my opinion before we left!?"

"I was planning on telling you once we possessed the privacy of a room, but yes, Kaldoon is our destination. I know someone of import there who might be able to assist in finding out how you arrived on Soulis, and more importantly, how to send you back home."

"Really?!" Twilight asked with sudden elation, completely forgetting her annoyance at Morenth's exclusion of her in his planning.

"Yes," Morenth affirmed, pausing for a moment with a pensive look, "The Archduke, Daius, is a good man, and one of the foremost practitioners of the arcane despite his youth. If he can't help you there's always the great archives of Kaldoon to explore. It houses one of the largest reservoirs of knowledge in Soulis."

The knight looked about to continue when he caught the expression on the lavender mare's face.

"T-the largest archive of knowledge on the continent?!"

Twilight swooned at the prospect of delving into a metaphorical sea of books and tomes, swimming through a deluge of daydreams before Morenth snapped her out of it.

"-Twilight?... Twilight are you listening?"

"What? Oh, sorry I kinda let myself zone out for a moment. What were you saying?" Twilight apologized, earning her a look of exasperation from her companion.

"I was saying that the road to Kaldoon is a hard one, and that we'll need as much protection and supplies as possible if we plan on crossing the Grey Flats," the knight explained, noticing the question forming in the mare's eyes, "Nothing grows there but Hyphlis grass. It spans hundreds of leagues, taking many fortnights to cross. During that time there will be no food or water to forage."

"Morenth, you know I can eat grass, right?" Twilight deadpanned, drawing a groan from her companion.

"Fine, no water then," Morenth amended grudgingly, "But the flats are also home to dangerous predators called Krath."

"Let me guess, they're not particularly aggressive bunnies are they," the lavender mare quipped sarcastically as they rounded a side-street onto the main road.

"They're a species of giant caecilians that swallow wagons whole with very little warning," Morenth answered, his eyes narrowing as a well lit and noise filled building came into view.

When the two companions were close enough to make out individual voices the knight held out his hand in front of Twilight, stopping the mare as he crouched down next to her.

"What?" Twilight asked, eager to rest and organize her thoughts after the disheartening discovery that she'd been displaced from her world entirely. The night they'd camped in the Bloodwood had been spent forming all her questions for Morenth the following morning, finding little in the way of respite as her mind worked feverishly over her expected inquiries. "Aren't we going inside?"

"Yes, but first I need you to agree not to speak while there are crowds of people around us," Morenth said as the lavender mare's brow furrowed, opening her mouth to argue before the knight cut her off. "Your presence alone will cause enough confusion without a crowd of reactions like the gate sentry's, and I'm not in the mood for a barroom brawl."

Twilights lips pursed shut in agitation, but nodded her assent, not willing to deal with anything else that day either.

"Twilight, do you know how to communicate telepathically with your magic? Some of our war mages have used it to great effect in the past," the knight asked in an attempt to mollify her, "If so, now is the time to use it."

The lavender mare's horn began to glow with a faint pink aura as Morenth finished voicing his question.

"Yes, but I can't hide my horn's magical signature as it registers in the visible spectrum," Twilight answered as she projected her thoughts through the magical connection she'd established with her companions mind.

"It should be fine," Morenth intoned, looking at her reassuringly, "Those not practiced in the arcane shouldn't be able to recognize it as anything more than a parlor trick."

With the agreement in place they moved through the heavy doors containing the cacophony of boisterous bar patrons. The inn was practicably full to bursting with noisy creatures yelling various obscenities at each other while they drank what looked like the Apple family's cider. It reeked of sweat and other, less savory odors as the two companions pushed through the throng of moving bodies toward the bar where the innkeeper was hurrying to keep up with the shouted orders of his clients.

The innkeeper himself was a portly man with short legs and a ruddy face. His apron was heavily stained from sweat and grease, becoming further drenched as he hastened to and fro behind the bar. Twilight felt a twinge of sadness as she imagined what Rarity might have done if she'd seen such a wardrobe, probably tear the inn apart in a rage of scissors and thread as she made suitable outfits for all of them to wear.

By some miracle, Twilight went mostly unnoticed, trotting after Morenth as he cut a path through the crowd. Her profile was too low for the inebriated townspeople to note her passing as she cautiously avoided thrown mugs and flagons from the out of control festivities.

Her companion took a seat at the bar, waiting for the innkeeper to take notice before immediately loosing all patience.

"Barkeep, service!" Morenth shouted as he slammed his fist on the bar, competing with other patrons too lost in merriment to control their voices.

The innkeeper inspected the bar for the source of the shouting with a look of mild annoyance as he slid a mug along its surface to a group at the far end, eliciting more cheers and slurred toasts to the barkeep. When he spotted Morenth beckoning from his seat the innkeeper's annoyance was replaced by what Twilight thought was an obviously fake smile, hanging the rag he'd been carrying on a hook next to him as he walked at an easy pace to where Morenth sat.

"I see you're back, good sir!" the innkeeper yelled over the den, "Might you be needin' the key to your lodgings?"

"Yes, and a second if you can spare the room!" her companion answered, motioning to Twilight as she propped her forehooves on the bar for a better look at the innkeeper.

It took a moment for the barkeep to recover from the sudden appearance of a unicorn staring at him, but fixed Morenth with an remorseful look.

"My apologies sir, but I don't rent out rooms for pets," the innkeeper said at normal volume as he leaned over the bar into the conversation.

Morenth's hand shot out and grabbed the portly man by the collar, dragging his face down to meet the angry knight's eyes.

Twilight's heart jumped in her throat as Morenth manhandled the innkeeper, missing her companions wince of pain as she frantically formed a connection to the knight's mind.

"What are you doing?!" the lavender mare yelled mentally, halting Morenth immediately with the sheer volume of her astral voice, "I thought we were trying NOT to draw attention to ourselves!"

Her telepathic tongue lashing had the desired effect as her companion glanced around the bar to the fierce faces of many wrathful bar patrons. They were rapidly sobering at the sight of their favored barkeep being assaulted by a stranger, several standing from their stools as they prepared to remove the knight by force.

"Fair enough..." Morenth intoned loud enough for the agitated party to hear. "Just the one room then."

The knight let go of the flustered innkeeper who withdrew a key ring from his aprons pocket and placed it on the bar. Grabbing the keys, Morenth turned and stormed out of the throng of bar patrons who were already back to their boisterous merriment as Twilight trotted hastily after him.

"Morenth what's wrong?"

The knight didn't answer, fuming as he paced down the stone corridor to their room.

Morenth stormed into the room without pausing to check if Twilight had followed him, slumping into a solid wooden chair next to the window. The Paladin heaved a tired sigh as he went over the events in the gathering hall, trying to piece together how he could have been so foolish.

"Morenth?"

The Paladin startled at the sudden voice as the lavender mare hopped onto the bed across from him, sitting down on her haunches with a look of concern gracing her features.

Morenth didn't know what to say to her. He had no answer to give himself for his behavior. The Paladin was possessed of a quick temper, but he'd never let it control him outside of battle before now.

The chair creaked as Morenth adjusted his posture, rubbing his temples in a failing attempt to stave off an emerging headache.

"Forgive me Twilight, I need a moment to myself." The Paladin sighed and lifted himself out of the chair as he made for the hallway. He could hear the lavender mare move from the bed, trotting up behind him into the corridor.

"The innkeeper should bring a tub of hot water for a bath soon," Morenth said suddenly, deflecting whatever she might have told him as he walked out the door, "I'll leave you to it."

He strided down the hallway with purpose while in his mind he possessed anything but, crossing the threshold to the gathering hall and out into the darkening streets.

Guards walked the main street, lighting lanterns in preparation of the coming night. The cobbled stone below Morenth's feet clicked loudly as he strode to nowhere in particular, matching the subtle rhythm of his mind as he attempted to calm himself. He needed to be alone for a while. matters tended to become more facile for the Paladin with solitude, secluded from outside influences.

The sun cast it's last lancing rays of light across the blackening sky as it sought rest over the horizon, leaving behind the mixing hues of relucent pink and deep purples of twilight.

'Twilight.'

The lavender mare was truly a mystery. She had saved his life when many others would have fled, and treated it like it was a decision as natural to her as breathing. When he'd threatened to slay her for the practice of dark magic, she'd trusted and forgiven him without a second thought. But she'd done something far simpler that even now, cast murky clouds across the Paladin's mind.

'Friend.'

Morenth forced down the emotions that came with the troublesome word, stopping at the corner of the main street and leaning his back against the door of a shop. Too much had been lost in the name of that simple word. He flinched as memories of hamlets, villages, towns, and even cities flashed through his mind, their names now forgotten and useless to all but the few who'd fought, and failed to defend them. Sadness was quickly consumed by mounting rage at those responsible for the destruction as Morenth battled for control of himself with a discipline he'd spent his whole life mastering.

With a concerted effort his boiling blood eased down to a simmer, taking in even breaths as twilight gave way to night.

The Paladin watched the day come to a close, holding his pendant while softly intoning a prayer of thanks to Yuelith for her gift of light and to watch over Soulis with the coming daybreak. His faith in the goddess went a long way to restoring his peace of mind, reigning in the last fragments of his anger.

The walk back to the inn was by far more pleasant than his abrupt departure, the newly risen moon casting pale spindles of luminance over Hollodrum. He steeled himself for whatever Twilight would ask about his outburst, preparing to answer endless strings of questions from the ever-curious mare.

To his luck, Morenth found her asleep when he returned, curled up in a ball under the sheets of the room's only bed. By the look of her expertly groomed mane, and the contented look on her face, she'd taken his advice on the bath.

The Paladin collapsed in the chair by the window once again, wondering at how he'd come to this point, the unicorn sleeping in his bed aside.

"The squire grew up, I guess," Morenth mumbled to himself as he began to drift off, remembering the peaceful days before his knighthood as the embrace of sleep took him.

Burning Cinders

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"There is in every true woman's heart, a spark of heavenly fire, which lies dormant in the broad daylight of prosperity, but which kindles up and beams and blazes in the dark hour of adversity."

-Washington Irving

Rain poured down in light showers, pattering against the canvas of one tent among hundreds as the sound of a whetstone against metal issued long grinding noises. Inside the tent, looking out at the misty sky, a young boy worked over a sword too big to be his own. He stopped abruptly, wiping the sweat from his brow as he inspected the blade.

"Hey, Morenth!" came a happy shout from outside tent.

The young squire startled as a blond haired boy poked his head through the canvas flaps, fumbling the sword with a short cry.

"Fythe! What was that for?!" Morenth gasped as he scrambled to pick up the fallen blade, giving it a quick once over with a rag to clean off the mud caked around the hilt.

"Good goddess Morenth, you've always been such a scaredy cat. Can't I announce myself just once without you freaking out?" the blond headed boy teased, causing Morenth to lower his head in shame. "Oh don't be like that, it was only a joke. Besides, it's always been you who ends up saving my arse. Been that way since we met."

Fythe smiled a toothy grin at the young squire, giggling to himself at Morenth's blushing face. He walked over to the dark haired boy and squatted down next to him, looking at the squire with an expectant look.

"Are you excited?" Fythe asked with a knowing expression.

"About what?" Morenth sighed, feigning ignorance.

"The battle of course!" the blond haired boy squealed with enthusiasm.

Morenth's face didn't reflect the same glee as his friends.

"Mostly nervous," the squire admitted, casting his eyes between his friend and the ground. "But maybe just a little excited."

That small admission was all Fythe needed to grin even wider, unable to contain his growing mirth.

"Just think of it, Morenth!" the blond headed boy gushed, "Our first battle!"

"We're not really going into the melee, Fythe," the squire commented, attempting to deflate his friend before his enthusiasm got out of control, "Knight Commander Schweiss said as much already. We're too young for combat, we'd only get in the way."

Fythe seemed unfazed by Morenth's remark, looking out over the sea of tents with a glazed expression before snapping back to reality.

"This is the first step on the path we chose together!" the blond squire declared with fierce determination, rounding on Morenth with a bit too much flare. "We may not fight in this battle, but one day we'll be knights and protect the innocent! We'll go on adventures from one side of Soulis to the other, vanquishing all evil in our path! And eventually, after we've proven ourselves with countless feats of courage and skill, we'll become paladins and rid the world of the undead plague for good!"

The dark haired squire snorted in amusement at his fiends flare for dramatics, giving a soft chortle as Fythe's enthusiasm became infectious.

"You really think we'll become paladins?" Morenth asked doubtfully, unconsciously gripping the hilt of the sword harder in anticipation.

"Well of course! With your skill and my bravery we can do anything together!" Fythe announced with gusto.

Morenth broke into a warm smile at his friends declaration. Fythe could make anything seem possible when he spoke like that. He'd been the squire's pillar of strength since they were children, never failing to back up his outlandish claims with even more outlandish actions.

"Morenth?" came a gravely voice from outside the tent.

The young squire immediately straightened at the call, holding the sword he'd been sharpening nervously.

"Yes, Lord Commander!" Morenth cried, standing at attention with Fythe doing likewise as an armored knight entered the tent.

Lord Schweiss approached them, taking his helmet off and wiping his sweaty brow with the cloth underside of his gauntlet.

The black haired squire rushed forward to relieve the veteran knight of his helmet and show the lord his work.

"Sir, I've finished sharpening and polishing your blade."

"Well lets take a look at it then, boy," Lord Schweiss said appraisingly, handing the squire his helmet and taking his sword in hand.

Morenth watched with racked nerves as the knight commander inspected the length of the blade, turning the helmet over in his hands anxiously.

"This is fine work, lad," lord Schweiss said finally, breaking the tension, "You'll make a fine knight yet."

Morenth grinned ear to ear at the praise, and looked anxiously over to Fythe who wore a similar smile.

"Fythe, is my dinner ready?"

The blond haired boy straightened at the sound of his name.

"Aye lord commander, your dinner is ready, sir. I took the liberty to forage some local herbs for the flavor, sir," Fythe added, not to be outdone by his counterpart.

The knight commander scrutinized him for a moment before the barest hint of a smile pulled at the edges of his mouth, shifting the appearance of his face from an accomplished knight to a proud father.

"I can always count on you two can't I," Lord Schwiess mused, sheathing his sword as he took his seat behind a low table. "Well? Bring in the food boys. A battles brewin' and I can't be goin' into it with an empty belly."

Morenth was about to fetch his lord's supper when a faint odor caught his attention, holding him fast in confusion. It smelled faintly like smoke.

"What's the matter, boy?" the knight commander asked, apparently unaware of the smell.

The dark haired squire sniffed the air, nearly doubling over as the odor became suddenly stronger. It overwhelmed his senses as his eyes began to water, coughing hoarsely in the accompanying heat that filled the tent.

"My lord, there's a fire in the camp!" Morenth shouted in abrupt realization.

"What nonsense are you talking about, lad?" lord Schwiess asked incredulously, appearing unaffected by the rising smoke.

The squire was about to yell a warning when his mind reeled at an unbelievably loud voice.

"MORENTH!"

The power of its words brought Morenth to his knees, holding his head in throbbing pain.

"MORENTH, WAKE UP!!"

The paladin startled awake only to find his vision obscured by two massive violet eyes filled with panic. His lungs cried out for air, inhaling more smoke in their desperate attempt to free themselves of the burning pain.

"Morenth, get up! The inn is burning down!" Twilight yelled, wheezing with every breath as she removed herself from Morenth's chest. His confusion melted into alarm as the sound of roaring flames issued from the hallway behind the closed door, billowing smoke into the room through the gaps in its frame.

The smoke was cut off as a purple field of arcane power covered the door and accompanying wall to the corners.

Morenth looked to Twilight only to find her cringing with exertion as sweat beaded on her brow, her horn glowing fiercely in the dim light.

"You're a heavy sleeper you know that?!" the lavender mare complained as the flames attempted to rebuke her efforts. "Hold on!"

The paladin noticed her horn beginning to rap itself in another sheath of magic as she strained with what Morenth guessed was a double cast. sensing her intent he rushed to the corner of the room and grabbed his pack, hoisting it on his back as Twilight completed her spell.

There was a loud pop as the world went suddenly white, blinding the paladin and causing more than a minor feeling of disorientation. With a loud crash he landed in a heap in the main street next to the tired, but otherwise unfazed mare.

"Sorry about the rough landing, I didn't have time to properly visualize the destination," Twilight breathed, gasping for air.

"I have to admit, I expected something, but not teleportation. You are a truly gifted mage," Morenth managed, impressed but in a similar state as the mare.

Twilight blushed at the praise and was about to respond when an agonized shriek filled the night air.

The source of the noise came barreling out of an ally way across the main street, screaming pitifully as dark figures chased her down. She cried out as she ran for them, desperately sprinting over the cobbled street in nothing but a night shawl.

Morenth tensed as the figures chasing her came out from under the shadow of the side street mewling like feral animals.

Dawnbringer sang as the paladin pulled the blessed sword from its sheath, pleased to once again be his instrument of wrath against the creatures.

"Twilight, protect the girl while I deal with the ghouls!" Morenth ordered as he charged toward the undead, not looking back to see if the mare complied.

The ghouls were so focused on their intended victim they didn't see the paladin's charge until it was too late. The leading undead was knocked off its feet by the force of Morenth's shoulder tackle as he brought Dawnbringer down through the second's collar bone, bursting the creature into flames with its holy fire.

Morenth switched his leading side as he swung Dawnbringer in a high arc to block the raking claws of the last ghoul, slicing cleanly through its forearm as the creature ignited in searing flames that slowly consumed it. Reversing his hold on the sword's hilt, the paladin slammed the tip of his blade into the downed undead at his feet. The cobbled stone under the unholy beast cracked with the ferocity of the blow, eliciting a wail of agony from the creature as it was scorched to redeath.

Behind him, the fleeing woman screamed in horror as more ghouls erupted from the ally.

"Twilight! Take the girl and run, we're falling back!" Morenth shouted, turning from the horde now numbering in the hundreds as they streamed out of the multiple side streets along the main road.

They fled in a mad sprint as the undead nipped at their heels, shrieking and mewling as only the unholy monsters could when chasing a meal.

As he gained on them, Morenth noticed Twilight had to slow her pace to keep from pulling away from the exhausted women, repeatedly slowing down so the girl could catch her breath.

"There, Twilight!" the paladin yelled. "Through the next shop! It'll buy us time!"

Twilight veered toward the windowed shop, ripping the door off its hinges with a telekinetic field as Morenth caught up with them. They barreled through the flower shop with the paladin knocking over all the pieces of furniture he could reach as he passed in hopes that it would slow the horde down if only a little.

The back door met the same fate as its brother, ripped off its hinges and thrown into the ally by a blast of purple magic.

Morenth could hear the undead slam into the other side of the two story building in a wave of bodies, clawing their way through the structure like oversized termites. A bright pink glow caught his attention as Twilight readied another spell, gasping under the exertion of the magic.

"We can't take them in pitched battle, Twilight!" the paladin implored, knowing in his heart that if she stayed and fought, so would he. "We have to find the city guard and organize them against the coming horde!"

"I don't intend to take them head-on," the lavender mare managed to whisper through the strain of her spell weaving, "But I'm sure the store will oblige."

The shop's supports groaned in complaint as Twilight's magical grip tightened around them, doubled by the horde of undead tearing through its insides.

Twilight suddenly jerked her head to the side, grunting in one final push of arcane might.

The building groaned under its own weight, snapping wooden beams and supports as the stone foundation crumbled.

Morenth watched approvingly as the shrieks of hunger from the ghouls inside became wails of horror, rendered mute by the cacophony of collapsing mortar and stone.

When the dust cloud cleared they were met only with silence.

Twilight let out a tired whoop, but the paladin stopped her with an upraised hand.

"This is no time for celebrations, Twilight," Morenth intoned severely, looking at the red glow over the rooftops of Hollodrum as flames licked the night sky, "The battle is far from over."

In the Dead of Night

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"No matter how dark the moment, love and hope are always possible."

-George Chakiris

Morenth made haste, quickly sorting through his pack for equipment he was sorely lacking. With luck he found another long coat, a leather harness and bracers, and lastly his spare cloak. It was far from being considered armor, but would have to do.

"Do you think you could hurry it up a bit?" Twilight asked anxiously, glancing around at the sounds of alarm rising from every corner of Hollodrum.

In response, the paladin quickly shouldered his pack, wanting no less than the mare to be gone from the alley. It left precious few options to them if they needed to retreat once more, and a look at Twilight's exhausted face told him the they couldn't rely on another powerful display of her magical prowess to save them again.

Morenth took the lead as they traveled along the side streets with the terrified girl in the middle and Twilight in the rear. The once distant red glow now dominated the sky as fire consumed the eastern quarter of the town.

"So um, what's your name?" the lavender mare abruptly asked the woman, attempting to drown out the noises of the burning town with conversation, or perhaps it was just her natural curiosity peeking through.

The shivering woman didn't answer, too terrified or traumatized to respond.

"What about your family, do you know where they are?"

Again there was no response.

Twilight pulled her eyes away from the woman dejectedly, shooting a pleading look at Morenth as he glanced back at them.

There was something the paladin could say to bring the women out of her shell, but he dreaded her answer and the effect it would have on his companion. The longer he held his silence however, the more pitiful Twilight's pleading became, and he grudgingly obliged as he prepared himself for the backlash.

"Those ghouls chasing you were your family... weren't they," the paladin intoned hesitantly, tightening his grip on Dawnbringer hilt.

"Y-yes..." the bereaved woman whispered, forcing the words out through gritted teeth.

Twilight gasped as the woman began to weep, collapsing against the stone wall of the alley.

Morenth halted his progress and kept vigil down the narrow path, unwilling to witness the grief of the last surviving member of the family he'd slain. The argument could be made that he'd simply saved her from the horrible prospect of being devoured by her loved ones, but such logic seemed hollow in the face of the bitter reality of his actions. He'd done it right in front of her.

The mournful cries quickly became too much for the paladin to bear. He glanced over his shoulder to see his companion wrap her forehooves around the woman in a silent embrace. Twilight's eyes were filled with tears as she comforted the survivor whose body wracked with fitful sobs.

"Shh-shh, it's going to be alright," the lavender mare cooed softly into the woman's ear with a calm surety that didn't make its way to her features.

After several minutes the survivor began to calm down, and even returned Twilight's hug as her tears subsided.

"Wynn-my name that is... It's Wynn," the woman said in an unsteady voice, drawing herself up back onto her feet, "My family runs... Used to run a dressmaker's shop in the east quarter."

The lavenders mares eyes dropped for moment in response, but recovered quickly.

"It's nice to meet you Wynn, I'm Twilight, and the broody one pretending not to pay attention is Morenth," Twilight said in an attempt to dispel the tense situation, motioning to the paladin with an encouraging smile.

"I'm sorry, truly," Morenth stated simply, eliciting a look from his companion that told him he wasn't helping.

"No it's..." Wynn trailed off, wiping the last of her tears from her eyes, "It wasn't your fault they... If it weren't for both of you I'd be dead, and then I'd be one of those monsters looking for the next victim."

The paladin looked upon the former dressmaker with growing respect as she stood up a little straighter, working up the courage to rebuke her loss. Morenth, seeing her emerging resolve, and hearing the cries of alarm looming ever closer, decided it was time to go.

"We should move on, any refugees fleeing the destruction will go the western quarter for protection, and possibly evacuation. The town guard should also be gathering there if their captain is worth his rank," the paladin explained. "We should make our way there to learn the full scope of this disaster."

They moved with cautious haste to avoid any more confrontations, casting wary gazes down the narrow branching paths of Hollodrum's alleyways. When their progress met with no resistance Morenth fell back from his scouting position to Wynn and Twilight who had taken to walking together in companionable silence. He briefly brushed the lavender mare's mane to get her attention.

"You are full of surprises, I didn't expect you to handle the news any better than her," the paladin whispered into her ear.

"I didn't, it still horrifies me that tragedies like this happen in your world at all, let alone on a regular basis," Twilight projected, shuddering visibly even in the low light, "But my friend Fluttershy taught me that when somepony cries, it doesn't matter how you feel. What matters is comforting them, and offering a smile to heal their hearts."

Morenth made his way ahead of them, taking the role of scout once more.

"Full of surprises..." he muttered to himself, sighing at his ineptitude in handling emotional situations.

Both the sounds of battle and his spiritual senses cut him off before he could reflect further on her words. From around the corner ahead of them a deep battlecry rang out followed by shrieks of hunger, and horror.

"Flee now ye dolts, Ay can't hold 'em off fer long!" a deep familiar voice cried out.

Several townspeople flooded out from around the corner, and turned away from Morenth as they fled in the direction of the western quarter, screaming in terror as they went.

Morenth heard Twilight trotting hurriedly to catch up as he rounded the side street with Dawnbringer ready in his hand. The alleyway was crawling with ghouls as they tried to worm there way around a lone figure swinging a large, double bladed battle axe with abandon, felling any of the repulsive creatures stupid enough to get close. Despite the stanch resistance, the undead pushed the lone defender back, surging forth in uncaring waves of hungry teeth.

"Aye, come forth ye dogs! Bring yer worthless hides to me axe!" the burly blacksmith shouted in defiance as he was slowly pushed back.

Morenth roared as he charged to assist the smith in the slaughter of the unholy creatures, crashing into the wall of bodies as he brought Dawnbringer across in a deadly arc. The holy blade ignited a wall of flames from the closely packed corpses as it drug through them in an even line.

"Fall back!" the paladin called to blacksmith as he began working his blade in a flurry of slashes along the undead line. "This is no place for a blacksmith!"

In response the smith brought his battle axe down on a ghouls head, cleaving it from crown to groin in an impressive show of strength.

"Ay wasn't born a smith ye know!" the armorer growled, crushing the head of a downed undead under his boot. "Ay ain't no stranger to battle!"

"That, I can see!" Morenth snorted in amusement as he took a back step to avoid a wreaking claw, slicing through the attackers arm in the same motion. "All the same, there are too many! Retreat while I hold the line!"

As the paladin words left his lips a flash of purple lanced between them, smashing into the hoard with tremendous force. The blast sent most of the leading undead tumbling over those behind, effectively stopping their advance as the ghouls writhed in an uncoordinated mass of limbs. Morenth looked over his shoulder to see Twilight panting with exhaustion while Wynn crouched behind the lavender mare for protection.

"See, even the little missy be fightin'! Ay ain't gonna run away with me tail between me legs!" the blacksmith laughed, smashing his axe repeatedly into the downed ghouls as Morenth fended off the undead working their way over the mass of bodies.

"Yuelith damn you, you stubborn fool!" the paladin yelled as Dawnbringer cut swaths of fiery death just over the smith's head. "Twilight! Look through my pack for a vial of red liquid!"

Morenth ripped the pack off his back and threw it behind him, his pause from the battle earning him a clawing along the back of his arm. He growled and turned back to the recovering horde, swinging his holy sword with rage against the rising wave of undead.

Despite both the blacksmith and Morenth working their weapons viciously in tandem, the unholy creatures had nearly pushed them back to the intersection when Twilight gave a cry of relief.

"Ah, I found it!" the lavender mare cried, her voice becoming uncertain. "What do I do with it?"

"Throw it!" the paladin shouted, accepting another wound as a ghoul caught hold of his shield arm and bit down. He brought down the pummel of his sword into its face to dislodge it as he noticed the crimson vial sail past his head.

"Take cover!" Morenth yelled, his eyes going wide as he grabbed hold of the smith's apron, dragging him around the corner of the alley.

Twilight followed suit with Wynn closely behind her, pressing themselves against the opposite wall as the vial broke against the hoard.

The concussive force of the alchemic explosive sucked the air out of the paladin's lungs as flames erupted from the side street, engulfing it in a raging inferno that roared with the fury of a raging dragon.

Morenth sucked in a breath, and sighed heavily. The alchemists at the enclave weren't going to be happy with him when he returned. He'd taken the experimental balefire potion without their consent, and had only intended to use it as a last resort.

'Well so much for that,' the paladin thought morosely, hastily looking to where Twilight and Wynn had taken cover. It was half obscured by the smoke bellowing out of the alley, choking the sky in a blanket of grey.

"Next time, warn me if something's an explosive before I throw it!" he heard the lavender mare fume angrily. She emerged through the smoke and fire surrounded by an arcane barrier with Wynn behind her. The former dressmaker looked frantically at the flames, expecting them to leap out at her.

Morenth stifled a chuckle with his hand, surprised he could find a source of mirth in a burning town full of undead filth. He quickly redound a stoic expression before Twilight could notice.

"My apologies," the paladin intoned evenly.

The lavender mare harrumphed and trotted past him to the stout armorer who was wiping the fresh gore and ichor from his apron.

"Are you alright, sir?" Twilight asked him in concern as a flash from her horn cleaned the smith from head to toe in an instant.

"Bwahahahaha! Sorry little missy, ain't never been no 'sir'," the blacksmith corrected heartily, slapping a massive hand over his knee in amusement. "The name's Riegar. Riegar Galenwood, at yer service."

Riegar kneeled down and took the lavender mares forehoove in his hand, shaking it in good natured greeting.

"I-it's n-nice to m-meet you R-Riegar, I'm T-Twilight S-Sparkle," Twilight managed as she was nearly yanked off her hooves several times by the armorers enthusiastic handshake. He released her hoof with another joyous laugh, and she took a moment to recover before introducing the others. "This is Morenth-"

"Aye, the broody one with the tight purse strings..." Riegar interrupted with a faux-inquisitive look, causing the lavender mare to snort in amusement. Morenth grimaced slightly at the jab, but held his silence.

"And this is Wynn," Twilight finished, motioning to the former dressmaker hiding behind her. "She's a little nervous right now with everything that's happened."

"Aye, Ay don't blame 'er. With all the damage that's been done already, it'll be a miracle if Hollodrum survives the night," Riegar said in a suddenly somber tone.

"Then all the more reason to be on our way," Morenth replied, growing impatient at the laid back atmosphere settling over the group. "We should make haste to the western quarter, unless you wish to stay here and laugh like an idiot until daybreak."

"Aye, was headed there meself when I saw some good folk needin' help," Riegar explained, unfazed by the paladin's combative tone. "Well? Lead the way knight."

Morenth pointedly turned back the way they had been heading with a frown, setting a blistering pace down the darkened path. He clicked his tongue in annoyance as the group fell into step behind him, wondering how he seemed to keep picking up strays.

Calm Before the Storm

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"True friendship is a plant of slow growth, and must undergo and withstand the shocks of adversity, before it is entitled to the appellation."

-George Washington

It had been several hours before dawn when the ragtag group made it to the western quarter of Hollodrum, finding temporary sanctuary behind the lines of the rallying town guard.

The crescent moon hung low on the horizon, casting the main street in a patchwork of pale light and impenetrable darkness. A small distance down the street Morenth was speaking to a lieutenant who'd been unlucky enough to take over command after the untimely death of his captain. He looked uncertain, but shouted out orders to his guards with authority as her companion gave him advice for the coming battle.

"Feelin' a mite nervous, little missy?" Riegar asked as he lumbered to her side, taking a seat on one of the many crates scattered about the street. "Ye ain't said a word since we got here."

Twilight glanced to the ground at her hooves, trying to sort out an answer that made sense to her. She didn't feel nervous, an odd occurrence given the situation. She should be terrified at the prospect of facing more of those things, but the more she thought about it, the clearer her thoughts on the undead became. They were disgusting, unnatural, and devoid of any sembilance of emotion, save for hunger-a mockery of the life that had once been. The memory of Wynn weeping into her shoulder forced its way to the forefront of her mind, and instead of fear, she felt determination well up inside her.

"Not nervous, just a little anxious," the lavender mare replied with a strained, but honest smile, "But thanks for the concern."

The smith whistled, and placed his hand on her head with a broad smile of his own.

"Yer a special type o' girl, ye know that?" Riegar laughed, causing Twilight to blush furiously at the unreserved praise. "A lot o' other folk in yer place would be scared stiff as a board, but that look in yer eye says yer ready to see this through to the end."

"I'm not that special," the lavender mare countered, working hard to cover up her embarrassment, "I just don't want to see anyone else get hurt."

"Aye, and that's why yer special little missy, few folks would risk their lives fer people they don't even know, especially for a reason as pure as that," the smith declared, patting her on the withers as he rose to help move supplies to the wagons being used to evacuate the town. "Yer a right gem by me reckoning, don't ye doubt."

"Oh, an' before Ay forget, Ay got a present fer ye in me pack over there," the smith said, motioning to his pack leaning against the wall of a building across the street. "Well not so much a present seein' as the knight payed fer it, but ye get me meanin'."

With a grunt, Riegar hoisted the large crate he'd been sitting on over his head, giving Twilight a wink before heading off in the direction of the wagons. the lavender mare sat silently, lost in thought as she watched the guards set up in loose formations of pikes and swordsmen. The split beams of moonlight flashed off the steel plate of their helmets, and glittered like shards of glass on their chainmail, giving the whole scene an almost surreal feeling.

"Twilight?"

the lavender mare blinked, torn away from her contemplations by the sound of her name. She glanced over to see Wynn sitting next to her with a hint of a smile on her face.

"What were you thinking about?" the seamstress asked, attempting to hide the small grin yanking at the corners of her mouth. "You were making some funny faces."

Her attempt at lightheartedness rang hollow with red eyes strained from crying and an unsteady voice still unsure of itself.

"Just wondering how long everyone's going to keep staring at me," the lavender mare lied, not wanting to concern the seamstress with her tangled thoughts. A half lie at least. It honestly unnerved Twilight when a refugee got too close to where she sat, and either gawked at her openly or fell to their knees in prayer. "It's making me a little self-conscious."

"They're looking to you for hope," Wynn commented, her expression thoughtful as she glanced around at her fellow villagers. "At least, I am-if that's okay with you of course. If it's making you uncomfortable I can stop."

Twilight giggled at Wynn's shyness, causing the seamstress to flush with embarrassment as she attempted to hide behind her auburn bangs. The act reminded her of Fluttershy, and it brought a pang of sadness as she remembered her friends waiting for her in Ponyville. It had been almost two days since Twilight was dragged into the dark void. They were probably in a panic trying to find her at that very moment.

"Twilight, are you okay?" Wynn asked with a caring look as she peered at the lavender mare from under her bangs.

Twilight realized that her eyes were wet with tears. She wiped them away with a hoof, and turned back to the seamstress with a weary smile.

"I'm fine Wynn, it's just... Everything that's happened is catching up to me," Twilight conceded, watching Morenth part with the guard lieutenant. "It gets overwhelming if I try to think about it all at once."

Wynn nodded in understanding, and wrapped the lavender mare in a warm embrace.

"Don't overdo it, okay?" the seamstress managed through Twilight's coat as she buried her face in the mare's shoulder. "I don't want you to get hurt..."

"Thank you Wynn, but I'll be fine," Twilight said gently, placing a hoof on the kind girl's back to steady her. "Morenth said he's going to help me, and he doesn't seem like the type to break a promise."

"Yes, the knights of Yuelith have never been known to go against their word," Wynn agreed with calm certainty, pulling away from Twilight to glance at the approaching knight. "One of their order would never see harm come to a unicorn like yourself."

The lavender mare looked at the seamstress questioningly, not comprehending the meaning of her words.

"What does it matter to Morenth if I'm a unicorn?" Twilight asked, hoping to gain a little insight into her terse companion's motives, and remembering the explosive confrontation with the gate guard when they'd entered town.

Wynn was about to answer when she noticed the knight in question, standing in front of them with an arced brow.

"All the preparations for the coming battle have been made," Morenth began, looking between them with an even expression. "Lady Wynn, you'll be with the rest of the refugees getting the wagons loaded for travel."

The seamstress nodded, giving Twilight a final hug before she set off to the lines of villagers passing crates along a disorganized file.

"Twilight," the knight said, drawing her attention back to him, "I need you to guard the refugees during the melee, should any of the undead break through our lines."

Morenth held out a hand as she began to argue, attempting to cut her off. Twilight just brushed his hand out of her way with a telekinetic shove, intent on voicing her dissatisfaction with his plan.

"Look Morenth, I know your suppose to be the expert when it comes to those things," the lavender mare fumed, preparing to poke some gaping holes in his strategy, "But I know the fundamental theory of implementing battle mages, and putting the only one you have on rear guard is a waste. I'd be best suited on the front lines, controlling the flow of battle."

Twilight was rewarded with Morenth's wide-eyed disbelief, rendered speechless by her understanding of military tactics. She silently congratulated herself for sneaking a peek at a few of Shining Armor's tomes on military history, and magical warfare. They had been a great source of perspective on Shining's role in the royal guard, but she never thought she'd have to use the knowledge in actual battle. The prospect was still a little more than daunting.

"No," the knight stated flatly, quickly recovering from her display. His words were laced with a tone of finality, but his expression was almost imploring, as if begging her not to debate his decision. "I'll not put you in that kind of danger."

"Well, too bad! You're not, I am," Twilight countered, unwilling to back down. "Those guards are fighting for their families. I'm not going to cower behind them and do nothing!"

It was only for a moment, but the lavender mare caught a brief flicker of emotion in his features; admiration? As quickly as it came, it was gone, replaced by a plaintive scowl as Morenth's eyes darted to the wagons behind her.

"You're right Twilight, these men fight for their families," the knight admitted, causing Twilight's eyes to light up with the hope that he would give in to her decision. "And that's why I need you to make sure they're safe."

Morenth glanced back to the lavender mare, his face an unreadable mask.

"The men of Hollodrum are a stubborn lot, but even they know they cannot win this battle," the knight intoned quietly. "The undead come in numbers too great to withstand. It is inevitable that the defensive line will break, and when it does, the ghouls will descend on the helpless. I need you to make sure that doesn't happen."

"And where will you be through all of this?" Twilight questioned accusingly, already knowing his answer.

"Twilight, you haven't been in this world long enough to understand, but it's my duty to lead these men into combat. My oath demands no less," Morenth affirmed, his eyes narrowing into a fierce glare. "I'm relying on you to be where I can't, protecting the innocent. Riegar will be with you as well as twenty of the town guard. Please do me this favor."

The lavender mare nodded her assent grudgingly, looking back to a thin figure carrying a large sack of grain with difficulty. Thoughts of Wynn being left alone to fend for herself kept her from arguing any further.

"Thank yo-!" Morenth started, interrupted by a radiant light coming from his scabbard. He froze mid-sentence as he eyed the glow, apprehension quickly turning to simmering rage.

Thundering sounds of metal on stone could be heard in the distance, growing louder with every recurrence. It's rising cacophony echoed through the cobbled main street, becoming more complex as individual noises could be discerned over the din. The mad shrieks of ghouls we're punctuated by timed footfalls, inducing an eerie sense of order to the chaotic monsters.

"Are they...Marching?" Twilight asked as an unexplained terror gripped her heart, sending icy chills down her spine.

"They are...And to drums most black," the knight intoned forebodingly, his face a mix of anxious fury and stony determination. "Yuelith, watch over us."

Maelstrom of Recompense

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"I shall know no fear. Fear denies faith. My faith is my shield."

-The God-Emperor's Chosen

"Go, Twilight!" Morenth urged, glancing over his shoulder to also ensure Lieutenant Pythoes was keeping a firm reign on his guardsmen.

Twilight hesitated for a moment before turning away and galloped off toward the refugees readying the wagons at a now panicked pace.

With the lavender mare gone, Morenth steered his thoughts to the disturbing sounds of marching in the distance as he made his way through the ranks of Hollodrum's defenders, shoving his way through those too slow to remove themselves from his path. There were only two things that could enforce order over the animalistic lesser undead; ascended undead, and practitioners of the dark arts. Either of these would likely spell doom for the remaining survivors.

"Lieutenant!" the Paladin shouted when he spotted the young officer pacing along the front rank.

Upon recognizing who was calling him, Pythoes let out a visible sigh of relief, waving Morenth over to speak with him.

"Sir Morenth, I'm glad you saw fit to return to us," the lieutenant quipped, grinning in a weak attempt at levity.

"Lieutenant, I'm afraid our situation is a tad dire for jokes," Morenth growled, looking across the future battlefield to the barrier of debris the knight had instructed Pythoes to construct. Everything flammable and not nailed down to the floor had been removed from the surrounding structures and piled across the length of the main street. On either his, or the lieutenant's orders, lookouts using the roadblock as cover would set it alight, further slowing the advancing undead. "Judging by the fact they took the eastern wall before any alarm could be raised, we can be sure they come in great numbers without counting the... Victims they've added to their ranks."

At the mention of Hollodrum's losses the young officers grin vanished, his face adopting a stony expression as he stared into the deep shadows blanketing the street.

"We have to make them pay, sir Morenth," Pythoes whispered harshly. His eyes flashed with a hatred the Paladin knew all too well. "My family is still..."

The young officer choked on his words, gritting his teeth in seething anger.

"We have to make them pay..." he repeated in a low, resolute rumble.

Morenth didn't answer, he didn't need to. Just under the surface of Pythoes' barely contained rage was a sliver of doubt. A crack in the fiery armor he wrapped around himself. The Paladin glanced at the guardsmen behind them to see the same doubt reflected in their faces, growing stronger with every collective footfall of the approaching hoard.

The apprehension of Hollodrum's last defenders became chilling dread as a thunderous clap echoed off the very stone of the town's foundations, continuing in time with the undead army's cadence. Crude swords and axes hammering against shields mixed with the shrieks of ravenous ghouls assailed the Paladin's ears with a cacophony of madness.

Morenth watched as the darkness undulated like a massive, writhing creature from the very depths of Tartarus. It's body made of ghouls and skeleton warriors many thousands strong.

"Lieutenant, you should see to your men," the Paladin advised, clasping his hand on the young officers shoulder. Pythoes didn't respond to Morenth's voice, instead he stared blankly into the abyss opening up before them, his face a frozen sculpture of horror. "Lieutenant....Pythoes!"

The young officer turned to Morenth with a jolt, looking at the Paladin with unseeing eyes.

"Pythoes, your men need you!" Morenth nearly shouted.

The lieutenant flinched at the volume of the Paladins voice, finally focusing his gaze on Morenth instead of through him. He could see the war being waged in the young officers mind, but they didn't have time for it.

The Paladin knew what he had to do. He'd seen his former Knight Commander perform the duty of leadership before in what seemed a lifetime ago. He didn't relish the idea, but with so few options he steeled himself for the responsibility.

"Guardsmen of Hollodrum!" he cried, turning to the defenders. Their fear was almost palpable as they looked to Morenth for guidance. "Steel yourselves! The creatures you see before you have come to take from you all you hold dear!"

"The undead never tire, they never relent, and they do not know mercy!" the Paladin shouted, causing many of the guardsmen to cringe in dismay, but he pressed on regardless. "They have only one purpose, and there is nothing they will not do to accomplish this, no matter how vile or loathsome it might be! These abominations mean to destroy everything proud and noble, everything we hold dear, and have fought so long to achieve this!"

At first, the defenders had cowered despite Morenth's words, but now a few underwent subtle changes as the truth of his speech set in. The undead wouldn't stop until all their families were slain.

"If you falter here they will come for your loved ones- friends and family trying desperately to escape! If you do not stand your ground then all is lost!" the Paladin recited, remembering Lord Commander Schwiess' rally cry word for word. He tried to picture the image of that bear of a man standing proud, ready to do battle by his side again. The thought brought fresh pain wrought from old wounds, but it also lit a raging inferno in Morenth's heart.

The effect of his words on the guardsmen were no longer subtle. Many wore masks of anger while others donned expressions of stony determination.

"Take the courage of the men standing next to you, and hold it close! Take the fear of your loved ones, and let it fuel your rage!"

It was time for the climax. Morenth drew Dawnbringer from its sheath with a powerful flourish, holding it aloft for all to see. Its normal glow had been replaced by brilliant radiance, burning at the presence of so many of its hated enemy.

"My name is Morenth, Paladin of Yuelith! Know that when you charge into the open maw of Tartarus, Yuelith charges with you!" Morenth cried as nearly two-hundred swords were drawn as one. The battle cry of Hollodrum's sons rendered the din of the undead hoard mute as they shouted in defiance of the coming darkness.

Twilight's breath caught as the guards around her shouted unintelligibly, taking up the battle cry of their comrades on the front lines. For a brief moment her thoughts went back to the storybooks of her foalhood, fables of the pre-classical era where courageous knight ponies stood against unimaginable odds for the sake of the powerless. It was striking how similar the scene before her was to the illustrations in those stories of a bygone age of strife and heroism.

"Bahahahaha!" Riegar guffawed at her side, placing his large hands on his hips as he eyed Morenth from behind the ranks. "Who'da guessed it? A Paladin appears at the last moment ta lead the charge against the undead filth. Like somthin' outta a fairy tale by me reckonin'!"

Several of the guards shared a laugh with the smith as well, voicing their relief over the sudden revelation.

"What's a Paladin? Is it some kind of title or something?" Twilight asked, not understanding why it should matter what Morenth called himself.

Riegar choked on his laughter and stared at the lavender mare like she'd been living under a rock. The way his look suggested that what she'd asked was common knowledge irked her. It must have shown on her face as the smith held out his hands disarmingly.

"Now don't get yer tizzies in a twist little missy, ye just surprised me is all," Riegar apologized in an attempt to placate her.

"What in Celestia's name are tizzies and how in Tartarus would I twist them?!" Twilight nearly yelled, exasperated by the smith's confusing manner of speech.

"Not quite sure meself, and ay never met a man that did. Sure'n it be a question fer the ages," Riegar stated with a faux inquisitive stroke of his grey beard before noticing the lavender mare's thinning patience. "Whoa, whoa missy, calm yerself! Truly, yer glare could slay a dragon if ye had a mind fer it. Ye know what a knight is?"

"Yes, there's a similar concept in Equestrian history. They were warriors of noble status, sworn to defend the crown in times of war," Twilight confirmed, recalling her studies into the rule of Princess Platinum during the Pre-Classical era.

"Well, then this'll be a short lesson. The Knights of Yuelith pledge their allegiance not ta any nation, but ta the hierarchy of the church of Yuelith like their name suggests. They hold a title of minor nobility just under that of Castilians, and are given leave to travel across Soulis in war bands of fellow knights in pursuit of the undead," the smith lectured, taking a breath before continuing. "Paladins are a different sort though. It's a title that's afforded only ta those who have the full trust of the White Council, the ruling body of the Order, and fer reasons of their own, there are only couple dozen or so of 'em at any one time."

Riegar kept his eyes glued to the distant figure of Morenth as he spoke, following the Paladin's actions closely with an appraising look. "Their the order's warrior elite, answerable only ta the White Council and the High King Braxus himself."

Twilight was about to continue her questioning when Morenth's voice broke through the ambient noise of the defenders.

"Light the barricade!" in response the barrier of debris the guardsmen had piled in the street sparked to life, silhouetting two scouts as they ran back to the line.

Light from the growing fires illuminated the approaching undead, revealing the hoard in horrific detail. Among the ghouls were walking bipedal skeletons wearing crude armor and holding ruined weapons with cruelly jagged blades.

Twilight shuddered in a mix of disgust and fear. She didn't understand how the corpses could move without muscle structures.

"Little missy, stay behind us. Ye just focus on keepin' the villagers safe and we'll do the rest," Riegar instructed as he moved past her to take his position among the guards. "And now would be a good time as any ta unwrap yer present, ye might be needin' it all too soon."

The lavender mare glanced to where the smith's pack lay in the back of a nearby wagon.

Reluctantly, she trotted to the edge of the wagon and wrapped the pack in a telekinetic field, lowering it down beside her. She untied the knot with minimal effort, revealing its contents.

The armor was not what she expected, thinking it would look close to something the royal guards would wear, instead she found folds of dark cloth affixed to an elegantly shaped, silvery metal plate. The plate itself was attached to a vest made of a dark burgundy material she didn't recognize. She was running a hoof over the silvery strap buckles on the vest's front when she noticed a touching detail acting as a clasp for a cloth hood. An offset, over laid six point star made of the same bright metal as the chest plate adorned the dark cloth.

Despite her reluctance, Twilight felt gratitude welling up inside her as she donned the vest with an ease only unicorns possessed. It fit perfectly, and she barely noticed the added weight at all. Riegar had been as good as his word when he'd promised she'd be pleased with his work.

As her magic looped the straps of supple material through the silver buckles, she ran a hoof over the delicate clasp skillfully crafted into the shape of her cutie mark.

Twilight took a deep, steadying breath, and turned to the scene of impending battle as her horn came to life with arcane light, prepared for whatever the darkness brought to bear.

Gauntlet of Fire and Tears

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"When the will defies fear, when duty throws the gauntlet down to fate, when honor scorns to compromise with death - that is heroism."

-Robert Green Ingersoll

"Hold!" Morenth cried, preventing any of the guards from initiating the charge too early.

Ghouls were throwing themselves willingly onto the obstructing pyre as their bloodthirsty comrades climbed over them, attempting to make the other side before the fleshy platform below them burst into flames. Many were unsuccessful, but as the hoard began its push in earnest the sheer amount of bodies started to choke the hungry fires.

Dawnbringer, still raised above the Paladin's head, flared to life with anticipation as more of the undead cleared the barrier. Morenth couldn't help but give the holy blade an appreciative smile. It's hatred for creatures spawned of darkness was no less than his own, and had been his constant companion through many battles. Now it would once again light his path into the brutal melee.

"Skirmishers advance!" Morenth ordered as a hand clasped down on his shoulder.

Glancing back to the its owner, the Paladin found Pythoes, looking much improved from his earlier episode. His face was drawn but once again firm as he offered Morenth yet another grin.

"Lieutenant Koren Pythoes is fit for duty m'lord Morenth, nice speech by the by," the young officer japed, drawing his bastard sword.

"And I for one would be happy to have you, lieutenant. Come, there's much work to be done before day breaks," Morenth replied, falling in step with the vanguard.

Pythoes nodded solemnly. "It would be an honor, Lord Paladin."

The Paladin couldn't reply as they were swept into the quickening pace of the skirmishing unit, breaking into a full sprint as they separated from the bulk of their forces. The detachment ate up the ground between them and the still organizing ghouls at a blistering rate, closing half the distance in a matter of seconds.

Shouts and battle cries were lost under the dinn of colliding armored bodies as the leading wave met the isolated undead in a violent clash of metal and flesh.

Instead of meeting the first foe with his shield as he'd been trained, Morenth leveled Dawnbringer and thrust its point into his opponent's skull, driving the undead off its feet with his momentum. Without pausing for even a breath, the Paladin slammed his boot into the monsters throat and tore the blade free, bringing the sword up just in time to smash its pummel into a charging ghoul's jaw. It showed no signs of pain, but was knocked to the ground a moment later when Morenth's booted foot caught it in the chest. The downed undead attempted to regain its feet before Dawnbringer's finely honed edge tore through its throat, erupting the writhing ghoul in purifying fire as the Paladin ran passed without a second glance.

With the initial joining of battle over, and the momentum of their rush spent, the Paladin began working his blade furiously to make up for the lack of a shield. Not that he could have worn one comfortably with his still mending arm. Even wielding Dawnbringer in a double handed fashion was straining the newly formed bone marrow as he continued his assault, whittling away at its integrity with every cut of his holy sword.

Despite this, Morenth's sword didn't slow, and soon the leading edge of the charge wedged its way through the mass of ghouls, circling the undead while harrying the hoard's flanks. The effective tactics the guardsmen fought with spoke of the centuries of experience Hollodrum's defenders had in the vanquishing of the Tartarus spawned monsters.

Outnumbered and outmatched, the unorganized ghouls were slaughtered with impunity as guardsmen separated the undead into manageable groups of isolated cells, and soon cheers rose from the skirmishers as they overwhelmed the remaining pockets of resistance.

The opening bout was swaying in the defenders favor when a vicious roar rent the night air, causing many of the guardsmen to pause in uncertainty. Those not engaged in combat searched frantically for the source, their eyes darting to the darkened alleys around them in fear that they'd been outflanked. Morenth however, needed no confirmation for what was to come, setting his stance as he rallied the guardsmen close to him.

"Steady! Keep to your officers and reform ranks!" he cried, waving to Pythoes who was leading the group nearest to him. "Lieutenant, keep your men well spaced! If that's what I think it is, leave fighting it to me!"

"Aye m'lord!" the young officer replied over the ruckus sounds of battle, rallying his troops with shouted orders.

The visceral roar had all but stopped, replaced by rumbling tremors that became louder as the source of the quakes drew closer.

Many of the guards were shouting confused warnings when the colossal monstrosity barreled out of the shadows cast by the burning barricade, scattering its unholy brethren as it tore its way to a promised meal.

Morenth hadn't accounted for a beast of that caliber to be among the enemies ranks. Its appearance caused the Paladin's mind to wrestle with the wisdom of holding the make shift wall versus retreating to a reinforced position.

"Ulegroth!" one of the men beside Morenth cried in undisguised terror. The Paladin had to decide quickly before the guardsmen decided for him as to whether they fought or fled. If they abandoned the barrier now the coming monster would have the full might of the hoard behind it when it reached their line, something that could never be allowed to happen.

"Hold your ground! Leave this abomination to me!" Morenth bellowed, causing almost all of those who'd been slowly inching away to freeze. Had he been anything less than a Paladin, Morenth harbored little doubt they would have run for their lives. "Lieutenant Pythoes, when the beast comes through the barricade be prepared to plug the hole!"

Several agonizing seconds past before the young officer answered.

"Aye m'lord, it will be done!"

Morenth nodded solemnly and set his stance as the guards pulled away to the sides, preparing to rush in behind the lumbering behemoth as it passed. A few of them muttered prayers under their breath as they gathered their courage for the true fight yet to come.

The Paladin absently clutched the amulet around his neck. Its delicately curved relief caressed his ungloved hand lovingly as its intricate features slipped between his fingers.

"Yuelith, guide my sword with your unwavering light," Morenth whispered as he brought the cool silver of the crafted unicorn to his lips, kissing it to fulfill his own prayer.

Wynn shuddered as the thunderous roar shook the base of the wagon she was standing in, repressing the sudden urge to huddle along with the rest of the refugees. Instead, she held her gaze on the battle already met in the distance, willing herself to look upon the coming undead.

It was a lie to say she wasn't afraid, terrified even, but she couldn't bring bring herself to look away. This may be the last time she laid eyes on her home, and she tried with all her heart to see the town as it once was instead of the destruction spread out before her.

The seamstress had walked these streets all her childhood, and she knew every nook and cranny of the main street that ran the length of Hollodrum. Uncounted trips to market at the behest of her father to purchase supplies, and on rare occasion to buy something for herself with the money her father had made from their shop. He had always insisted she be the one to use the spare profits instead of himself, saying a girl should want for nothing with his usual, easy smile.

Her tears welled up uncontrollably at the thought of her family, flowing down her cheeks before she could stop them.

Her mother, strict but fair, always the backbone of the family. Her father, warm and caring with gentle hands as he worked the loom, or a thread and needle, always with a word of encouragement. Her brother, strong and protective, willing to shield her from anything even to his final breath... All gone.

"Miss Venlighed, are you alright?" a concerned voice from below asked.

Wynn hastily wiped her tears away and looked to the speaker holding a large burlap sack ready for the seamstress to haul into the wagon. She was young, younger than Wynn, and she trembled like a leaf with every sound rising from the battle in the distance.

"You see sweety, that's how we survive so far out on the frontier; we look after each other as if the whole village was one big family," her fathers voice soothed from a memory long past, finishing a story she'd long forgotten, but the lesson remained, "So when disaster strikes we can be brave for each other."

Marshaling her courage, the seamstress put on the same brave face she'd worn to comfort her savior minutes before.

"Of course dear, I'm fine," she told the trembling young girl she remembered was the thatcher's daughter, drawing her lips into what she hoped was a confident smile. "Come, there's still more to be loaded and the faster we're done, the faster this will all be over."

Wynn took the sack handed to her by the girl, stealing a glance at the purple unicorn a short distance down the street surrounded by Hollodrum's guards. Despite her short stature, Twilight's newly acquired armor made her look strikingly majestic, like a small piece of Yuelith's grace, blessing them in their darkest hour with her divine presence.

In a rare moment of piety the seamstress prayed for the goddess of light to save what remained of her home, and for the protection of the courageous souls who would be her instruments.

Splinters of flaming wood and bodies exploded outward from where the Ulegroth impacted the barrier, pelting the guardsmen with pyroclastic debris. Screams sounded from those who couldn't avoid the enkindled projectiles, flailing wildly in attempts to put themselves out, but Morenth couldn't hear them. He was too focused on the monstrosity emerging from the smoke of the damaged barricade.

Its very presence was an affront to everything the Paladin's goddess represented, assailing his senses with overwhelming disgust of the putrid beast. The bulk of the creature was easily thrice as tall as a man, stomping through the last vestiges of dying fire on four limbs the color of night. Retched cords of chaotic muscle rippled beneath the darkened flesh of amalgamated bodies held together by foul necromancy as it stalked out of the curtain of smoke.

The smell of death practically oozed off it in waves of pervasive stench, forcing the bile to rise in the back of Morenth's throat. Its teeth where rows of red tinted fangs, jutting out at awkward angles as drool black as pitch pustulated from behind a forked tongue.

Such a monster was unnatural in every sense of the word, achieved only through a mastery of the dark artes and countless sacrifices offered to daemons in unholy blood orgies.

To the Ulegroth's side Pythoes hesitated to fill in the gap left by the monster as did his men, unwilling to draw the creature's attention away from Morenth.

The Paladin drew in a steadying breath and locked the Ulegroth with a baleful glare.

"Come monster, face me!" Morenth shouted, taunting the creature in an attempt to force a confrontation. "Come and face Yuelith's judgment!"

It worked better than he'd hoped.

The roar of the Ulegroth shook Morenth down to his bones, and spittle of black ichor stained into his long coat as it broke into a mad charge, seeking to gore him on one of its twisted horns.

The Paladin was faster and dodged around the monster's lowered head, narrowly avoiding getting trampled by the beast's powerful, clawed appendages. In a feat of unnatural coordination the Ulegroth halted immediately, defying the limitations of both man and beast as it whipped around to face him. Its fore limb shot out blindingly fast, swiping at the Paladin before he could set his stance. Morenth bearly brought his sword in front of the strike before it impacted, driving him to a knee under the force of the blow as he tried to maintain his balance.

With his shield arm braced against the flat of Dawnbringer's blade, the Paladin fought for ground in vain. His strength was nothing when compared to an unnatural beast thrice his size, and the competition soon became a struggle to keep himself from being crushed beneath the creature's weight.

Morenth was so focused on maintaining his guard he almost missed the battle cry of the guardsmen as they moved to plug the gap left by the Ulegroth save a few, who had charged instead at the dark monster in a foolish attempt to aid him.

"Lord Paladin!" shouted the leader of the small group of guards as they rushed in from the creature's blind spot.

"Stop you fools, this foe is beyond you!" Morenth managed under the increasing strain of holding off the press.

They didn't hear him as the first brought his sword down, cutting putrid flesh from the beast's supporting forelimb. The creature cast its head toward the attackers and looked about to wretch, its head drawing back as it prepared to heave.

"No!" the Paladin yelled as he felt the Ulegroth's press slacken in response to its awkward posture, and managed to roll out from under the beast's claws. "Fly you fools, you hasten only to your deaths!"

The group of courageous men had no time to realize the danger as dark green, hissing bile erupted from the unholy creature's maw, drenching them in the foul and deadly liquid. Their agonized screams rent the cold night air as skin and muscle melted from their bones, slowly dissolving into an indiscriminate cesspool of mangled limbs.

Morenth choked back a cry of anguish, redirecting the loss into a well of rage as Dawnbringer sliced through the creature's muscled forelimb. his holy sword's enchantments allowed him to cut deeper into the beast's corrupted flesh than the unfortunate guardsmen, the wound immediately bursting into flames as the blade completed its deadly arch.

When the Ulegroth shrieked in pain and turned to face Morenth once more, it buckled under its limb's lack of tendons, falling to its haunches to brace its weight.

Seizing the opportunity before the creature could regenerate, the Paladin leaped onto the creature grabbing the purchase offered by its bent joint, and used it as a stepping stone to the beast's back. The Ulegroth, realizing what it's prey intended, began to spasm and shake, attempting to throw Morenth off.

Try as the beast might, the Paladin would not be thrown. He clutched to the line of greasy black mane running down the length of its back, holding on with all his strength.

Slowly, Morenth made his way up the creature's back in between thrashing fits, reaching one hand over the other, grabbing tuft-fulls of hair In his bid to make the Ulegroth's head.

"I'll have you see Yuelith's grace if I have to force it directly into your skull," the Paladin seethed under his breath as he reached the base of the abomination's neck.

He wrapt The Ulegroth's mane around his hand as he managed a half standing position in striking range of the creature's head, bucking to either side as the beast continued to thrash. In its fit the abomination slammed its shoulder into the side of a building, causing Morenth's arm to scream in pain as the force threatened to snap his still mending shield arm.

The Paladin let rage drown out the pain, focusing on his target. With a short toss, Dawnbringer spun into a reverse grip, its point poised against the base of the creature's skull.

"Know pain and fear, monster," Morenth spat as he pulled himself against the creature, thrusting his holy sword with all his strength into its brain, "And know that it was I who brought it!"

The wailing of the Ulegroth's death throws drowned out everything else as purifying fire exploded from its eye sockets and maw, making it the image of utter agony. Its muscles snapped taut before slackening completely as it fell face first into the cobbled street with a resonating crack.

Cheers accompanied the Paladin as he ripped Dawnbringer out of the creature's charred skull, taking a moment to spit in disgust. A short distance from Morenth, the guardsmen fought tooth and nail to hold the breach. Many in the back ranks were busy piling bodies onto what remained of the flaming barrier, keeping more ghouls from climbing over.

Their skirmish had become a pitched battle, and one they were holding well. This called for a change in the plan. Morenth took a horn Pythoes had given him before the battle, and brought it to his lips, blowing hard into the mouth piece. The call for reinforcements rang through the streets of Hollodrum, though not as loudly as the battle cry that echoed back as Hollodrum's sons answered the call to arms.

Morenth held his place for moment, surveying the evolving conflict for any signs of treachery. When he found none, the Paladin allowed himself a sigh of relief. If the melee proceeded as it was, there was hope they would see the coming dawn.

As if summoned by his thoughts, the first brightening of the eastern horizon began to dispel the curtain of night.

'The long nightmare is almost over...'

Darkness before Dawn

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"On the plains of hesitation lie the blackened bones of countless millions who at the dawn of victory lay down to rest, and in resting died."

-Adlai E. Stevenson

Twilight took in a sharp inhale of early morning air as the monstrosity that Morenth had scaled dropped forward onto the knees of its forelimbs, her companion's sword imbedded in its skull. He rode the beast down as it fell, until it came to rest in a limp heap. Its cruel jaws lulled open, dripping pustules of hissing spittle onto the cobbled street lifelessly.

Guards and refugees alike hooted and whooped as they cheered, but the lavender mare couldn't quite bring herself to be affected by the heightened spirits of those around her. Instead, she fought against the nausea rising in her stomach as her gaze found where the men that had courageously attempted to aid her friend had been. Their limbs reached toward the sky in an image of agony from the dissolved puddle of flesh that marked their grave.

Despite herself, Twilight's eyes burned as fresh tears began to trail down her cheeks before quickly wiping them away with a hoof. It wouldn't do any good to worry those around her when they so desperately needed hope.

"Look away little missy," Riegar said, not taking his eyes away from the bloodshed, "They're with their gods now, and that's all ye need ta be knowin'."

Before Twilight could guess at how he'd known what she was looking at, the pierceing sound of horn echoed around them, calling the last of Hollodurm's protectors to arms.

In response, some two hundred swords and spears thrust into the air, the men wielding them shouting battle cries for all their worth. Their steel greaves thundered against the cobbled stone of the road like snare drums as they charged out to reinforce their brothers locked in deadly combat.

As the first of the reserves reached the makeshift wall and their fellow guardsmen Twilight heard the shrieks of ghouls, but not from the battle in the distance. They were close.

"Riegar, do you h-"

She choked on the question as a wave of undead spilled out from the alleys just behind the guards' charge, turning their battle cries into shouts of confusion as ghouls and skeletons smashed into their exposed flank.

"Bah, ye damned fool of a Paladin! Ye waltzed right into the enemy's trap ye did!" the smith growled angrily, hoisting his heavy, double-bladed battle axe into a ready stance as he glanced to the guards. "Prepare yerselves ye louts, we'll not come out of this battle unbloodied!"

As if hearing his words the undead near the back of the host seemed to notice the caravan's small contingent and the defenseless refugees behind them for the first time. Their shrieks of hunger were no less horrifying than when they'd chased Twilight through the depths of the ancient castle not two days before, and her hackles rose as they began their mad sprint towards the readying guards.

Escaping injury after battling an Uligroth was an accomplishment the Paladin would have to celebrate later. With his attention focused solely on reinforcing the front there was little time for such frivolous thoughts.

The streets reeked of the dead and the dying as Morenth forced his way through the wall of guardsmen entrenching themselves in the breach. He grimaced as he felt the ground below his feet become uneven with the bodies of the fallen, their corpses slick with blood and ichor. The cries of both the living and the dead filled his ears, drowning out everything else in the maelstrom of steel and flesh.

The paladin shoved his way past the last of the defenders and brought Dawnbringer up in time to hook an axe aimed for his head. With a grunt he grabbed the shaft of the weapon and pulled his sword free, stabbing his assailant who's form was mostly obscured by the mass of bodies clogging the narrow passage.

During his bout with the Ulegroth, whatever passed for the undead army's general had seen fit to send forth its skeleton warriors into the fray. While slower and less coordinated than ghouls they were by far the more durable of the two, able to wield both weapons and armor, and therefore better suited to armed warfare.

"Lieutenant!" he shouted to either side of the melee, cringing as an errant lance cut a thin line across his cheek, "Dammit Pythoes, don't make me come looking for you!"

"Aye m'lord!" the young officer called from Morenth's immediate right, emerging from behind the line of guardsmen as he punched a ghoul in its festering face with an armored fist, "I'd nary dream of making you look for one such as I, Lord Paladin!"

"Glad to see your wit hasn't been dulled by our predicament!" the Paladin replied while deftly parrying blows from the many weapons assaulting them, occasionally launching deadly counters into the unsuspecting hoard. "Now let's see if your sword is equally as sharp!"

Pythoes took the prod to heart and redoubled his efforts, working his blade in powerful vertical strokes to avoid interrupting the strikes of the guards around them.

"Yes, let us hope that it is..." the lieutenant muttered, almost too low for Morenth to catch through the dinn of the surrounding battle.

Tirelessly, the defenders held their ground, fighting with the desperate resolve of men possessed as the endless droves of undead bashed repeatedly into their line. There was naught to it, and while for every guardsman slain, ten of the undead host fell, there were always twenty more to take their place. Eventually they would be overrun and slaughtered to the man. Their only hope for survival rested in the hands of both the refugees loading the caravan wagons, and the morning sun just starting to light the horizon in the deep blues of a blessed dawn.

Another wave broke against the defensive line and was pushed back. This time Morenth and Pythoes gave a short chase, cutting down the stragglers as the will that lorded over undead forced them to retreat.

The paladin had just cut down the last of the ghouls within his reach when a single lance of pink arcane energy cut a path through the sky far overhead. Looking back in sudden panic, Morenth immediately realized his folly.

In the distance, motes of pink light illuminated the fighting at the rear of their forces, and more prominently the smaller group of guards the paladin had left to protect the caravan and keep Twilight safe. They were outnumbered and being pushed back perilously close to the refugees taking cover amidst the wagons. The only thing keeping them from being completely overrun were the constant blasts of telekinetic waves Twilight was throwing against the hoard. A small comfort, as the effort was likely draining the unicorn of her magical reserves at a dangerous pace.

"Lieutenant-!" he cried, looking to the young officer as he cut down the last of his foes. The smoke rising from the burning walls was now suffocating, the light easterly wind blowing the choking fumes across the undead host's lines.

Pythoes jerked upright at the sound of Morenth's call, releasing his sword that had impaled a skeleton warrior's eye socket. He turned to the paladin, his face streaked with a mix of ash and blood, and at that moment he seemed a young, untested boy no longer, but a soldier of Hollodum; grown and proven in both skill and courage.

"My Lord Paladin?" the officer managed between labored breaths, realization donning on his features as he looked over Morenth to the battle raging behind their ranks. He gave the Paladin a knowing expression and nodded with confidence. "Go m'lord, I'll handle things h-"

Before Pythoes could finish, a flash of blackened steel erupted from his chest, slowly lifting him into the air as the officer gave a surprised grunt of pain. The moment seemed to last an eternity as the Paladin looked on blankly, an icy hand grasping at his heart. Shuddering with the effort, the mortally wounded officer glanced questioningly at the offending blade as the sir coat over his chain mail turned dark red, and then to Morenth, his mouth twitching into an exhausted half grin.

"Oh..." he coughed as blood began to flood his collapsed lungs, choking off whatever he might have said.

With despairing quickness, the light in Pythoes' gaze dulled as he became still, his expression unfocused as he stared out at the infant dawn with unseeing eyes.

The blade whipped to the side, dislodging the officers body with violent efficiency to reveal his murderer.

Sharp, demonically crafted armor of blackened steel stained red with both dried and fresh blood sheathed the killers body in a litany of barbs and spikes. His torn cloak bellowed out behind him like a living shadow, and the eye slits of his skull shaped helm burned with an inner fire of otherworldly nature.

A Dremorath; a daemon knight.

Dawnbringer erupted to life in Morenth's hand at the appearance of the daemon spawn, bathing the corpses littering the battlefield in its wrath made manifest.

There were no words exchanged between them, no threats or curses. Nothing could be said to the Paladin's antithesis that described his hatred of the dark figure.

Instead they clashed, the black sword and Dawnbringer tearing through the air to meet each other in a blur of metal and fury.

"Bahahahaha!" came Riegar's rolling laugh, cutting through even the din of combat as he worked his battle axe with deadly skill. "Bah! Come on ye sods, tain't enough of yer darned hides ta even wet me blade!"

There was truth to his words. His body was used to hammering metal into shape from dawn till dusk, and swinging his hefty double bladed axe wasn't even causing him to break a sweat.

The burly smith felt a claw rake down his arm, grasping hold of his wrist as the ghoul tried to pull him into the host of its brethren. He merely scoffed with impatience and dragged the undead around to stand squarely in front of him as if it were a petulant child, his axe cleaving it from head to groin in a stout one handed swing.

A short cry from behind caught his attention as Twilight watched another of the guardsmen fall, sending forth a lance of scathing magic into the ranks near the downed soldier so others could come to his aid.

For all his bluster, Riegar couldn't help but admit that without the small unicorn's magical assistance, the group of twenty some guards and himself would have been hopelessly overwhelmed. As it stood, they would only last as long as Twilight's stamina.

"Long odds on that bet," the smith thought as he caught a glimpse of her sweat covered face in the pink glow of her horn.

She breathed heavily with exhaustion, and her hooves trembled as they tried to keep her upright. Riegar steeled himself for what he might have to do should the battle take a turn for the worst. He'd promised the Paladin to keep her safe, and Riegar Galenwood was a man of his word.

With a grunt, his axe was in motion once more, tearing wide swaths of destruction into the undead host. He ignored those dying or falling back, holding his ground like a mountain against a stiff wind, unswayed by the concerns of his fellows as he cut down ghoul and skeleton alike.

In a moment of inspiration, a song came to him; a song of fighting, and rutting, and-of course-drinking. With a deep breath, an ode of the dwarves blessed his lips, and he belted it out with great mirth, only stopping to laugh his low rumbling guffaw in the face of death.

"Bahahahahaha!"

Righteous in Wrath

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Now this is not the end. It is not even the beginning of the end. But it is, perhaps, the end of the beginning.

-Winston Churchill

Dawnbringer's thrust met only air as the daemon knight spun on his heel to the side, bringing his claymore into a powerful, horizontal arch aimed for Morenth's exposed mid-section. Instead of attempting a wild back-step, the paladin rolled under the strike, whipping his blade up for the dark knight's defenseless arm as he rose back to his feet. It was an awkward slash however, and merely glanced off the daemon's black plate mail.

They squared off once again, steel ringing against steel as they worked their blades into progressively faster routines until the sounds began to blend together in their swiftness. The echoed clanging of metal reverberated through the chaotic cacophony of battle with startling clarity as the bitter opponents fought with a frigid single mindedness.

Despite Morenth's advantage in speed from his lack of armor, he couldn't find an opening in the daemon knight's defenses, at least, not enough for a decisive blow, and the dark figure's unnatural strength leveled the playing field offensively, his blows becoming heavier as the battle wore on.

A slash was followed by a pirouette and counter worked into a double-counter and back to a pirouette as both fighters attempted to gain the upper hand. The never ending flow of swords soon started taking its toll on the paladin, his mortal body tiring even as the daemon seemed to be growing stronger with every blow.

He knew his sword arm would give out eventually under the stress of the dark knight's unbelievably powerful strikes, but all that mattered was finding a flaw in his opponents technique and delivering a decisive blow. An exercise that seemed to be increasingly futile as the Paladin continued to observe the quickening swordsman. He showed no flaw, no crack in his swordsmanship, and was proving the his equal in combat.

Adding to Morenth's troubles was his worry for Twilight and the refugees. The knowledge that they needed his aid fueled his strength with desperation, but drained him of his focus as he forced Dawnbringer into even faster routines, straining his shield arm close to its braking point as he wielded the holy sword in a double handed grip.

The daemon knight, sensing the care Morenth was taking with his left arm, batted the his next strike wildly to the side, and with a frightening quickness worked his black claymore fluidly into an overhead chop with all its power behind it.

Lacking any time to thread his blade behind his opponent's to parry the wanton blow, Morenth had no choice but to take the brunt of the hammering strike with a hasty block.

The force of the dark knight's sword impacting with Dawnbringer sent numbing waves down the paladin's sword arm and a sickening crack from his left.

Morenth bit back the pain surging through his newly broken arm and retreated a few steps back, moving his blade into a series of one-handed flurries to fend off pursuit from his assailant.

It never came.

When the paladin checked his opponent, he found the daemon hadn't moved in to try his luck at ending Morenth's life. Instead the dark knight seemed content to draw the fight out as long as possible. Only then did the paladin notice the writhing forms passing by them, only then did he hear their shrieks of hunger.

Their highlighted forms danced against the dying fires of the defender's makeshift barricade as they fought each other for the chance to be first to their promised meal. Grimy, malformed hands grabbed hold of their fellows, propelling themselves forward towards Hollodrum's remaining sons in a macabre display of their feral appetite.

The undead seemed to be outright avoiding the conflict between himself and their deadly general as they streamed around them, and into the line of guardsmen who were quickly loosing ground without his or Pythoes' leadership to hold them together.

"Yuelith, damn you!" he seethed as step by step, the distance to his allies, and by extension any chance of helping Twilight, became farther beyond his grasp.

For only a moment, Morenth allowed the hopelessness of the situation take hold in his heart, sweat trickling down his brow and into his eyes as his shoulders sagged under the weight of his duty; a single moment of weakness invading his being before drowning the feeling in a wave of righteous fury.

The heat of it burned away the pain in his arm and threatened to have him abandon all reason in its intensity. But what use would he be to Twilight and the refugees if he simply gave in to the fire growing in his breast?

Flowing as if half-alive, the daemon knight's cloak bellowed menacingly against the backdrop of undulating bodies that made up its army as the paladin straitened from his defensive stance, weighing himself against his opponent.

Beneath the stained and ruined leather of his tarnished long coat, beyond his broken arm and exhausted muscles, even without his armor and shield, he was a paladin unbowed and unbent. He would fight to his last breath, or his enemy's.

But what of Twilight?

A snake without a head would wither and die, and with the daemon's influence absent the hoard would falter. The general had to be felled if Twilight and the people of Hollodrum were to have any hope.

Twilight reared up unto her hind legs as the magic in her horn reached the limit of her ability to push mana into the telekinetic spell.

"Part ye dolts! If ye be around for the little missy's performance, not all the clerics in Soulis could put ye back together!" came Reigar's booming voice as he shouted to the guards around him forming a defensive formation in front of the first wagon at the edge of the refugee caravan. They did as instructed and parted, exposing Twilight to the host of undead as she prepared to unleash her magic on them.

The lavender mare's hooves slammed into the wood of the wagon's bed with a crack as she released her hold on the mana coursing through her body, relaxing her focus on the targeting matrix of the telekinetic blast to insure a cone of force instead of a concentrated lance of energy.

Erupting in a blinding mote of pink light, the force of her magic rocked the wagon bed violently as the arcane power from her spell rippled through the hoard like an earthquake brought from the deep recesses of the earth to wreak havoc in the air around them.

The vibrations increased in intensity as Twilight brought as much mana as she could into the ambient spell weave from her reserves, holding and refining the matrix as it peaked into a fever pitch of deafening noise. Sweat slid down her face from under the hood of her armor and into her eyes but she didn't dare blink. Loosing control of a spell of this destructive magnitude would likely kill her, and those that stood with her.

With an effort that nearly caused her to black out, Twilight finished the matrix in a final mental exertion, giving direction to the displaced primal energies. She managed to hold her breath before it could be sucked out of her by the concussive force of the telekinetic wave ripping forward into the host of undead with all the power she could muster. The vacuum of wind whipping around her kept the lavender mare's eyes shut against the violent intrusions and blind to whatever damage it was doing to the hoard.

When it was over and the zephyr subsided however, the tired cheers that filled the silence told her the truth of the outcome. Their jubilance was restrained, full of weariness and fatigue, but they regrouped back into formation, their boots clacking against the street as they readied themselves once again for the melee.

Twilight opened her eyes and immediately regretted doing so. Her stomach lurched at the sight of the mangled bodies of ghouls and smashed skeletons that her spell had destroyed to a point beyond recognition. She didn't have any qualms about bring peace to the bodies of those who were forced to awaken from eternal slumber to hunt their families and neighbors, but the grotesque nature of her handiwork made her insides do somersaults as they rebelled against her.

The nausea combined with the sudden exhaustion from her efforts drove Twilight to her fore-knees as she gasped for breath, her mind muddled with incoherent strings of leftover spell weave.

Destruction and waste spread out in a fan from the wagon the lavender mare was using for cover, scaring the cobbled street in many places where primal energies had delved deep furrows into the ground. The scope of the spell's lethal effects was close to one hundred meters by Twilight's estimate, and the undead beyond the epicenter had been knocked off their feet by the force of the blast.

"Oh by the goddess-Twilight! Are you alright?!" Wynn called out as she rushed to climb into the back of the wagon, her voice heavy with concern.

She looked disheveled, and her newly aquired tunic was stained with the sweat of the seamstress' labors as she took a knee next to Twilight to help steady the weakening unicorn mage.

"Sir Riegar, the supplies are finished being loaded! Sound the call to retreat!" Wynn yelled over her shoulder to the smith who was readying the small group of guards for the next assault.

"Ay told ye, Ay ain't no 'sir'!" Riegar complained as he reached for the horn lashed to his belt.

The second call of the battle was higher pitched than the last as it came from a much thinner horn. It's echoed tones had an almost immediate effect on the battle stretched out before them. The rear of the surrounded guard formation pushed the flanking undead with more force as the front units began adding their strength to the advance.

From their position atop the steady incline the western gate sat on, the small contingent was offered a full view of the forces below.

Twilight's horn began to glow again only to sputter out as the consequences of magical burnout began taking effect.

"Whoa! Twilight please rest, you've done more than enough," Wynn begged, supporting most of the Twilight's weight as she crouched next to mare.

Lacking the energy to argue, Twilight let herself rest against the seamstress as she scanned the battlefield through half lidded eyes for her wayward companion.

The mass of guardsmen were pulling away from the burning barrier as the undead host streamed in after them, but near the opposite side of the breach, created by what Riegar had called an 'Ulegroth', there was a large gap in the sea of ghouls and skeletons. Two figures seemed to be locked in a duel, lunging and leaping at and around each other at dizzying speeds.

Twilight gasped as she recognized the glow of the smaller figures weapon, its blade illuminated with a fierce light as it darted through the air in search of its enemy's weakness.

"Morenth!" she cried, panicking as the undead pushed the retreating defenders back and further away from the engaged Paladin.

"Aaaarrrggghhhh!"

Morenth thrust his sword just under the daemon's horizontal slash aimed at his neck, and with a strained heave, forced the blade harmlessly overhead before bringing Dawnbringer into an attack of his own, its fine edge traveling up the flat of the claymore into his opponents helmet. It impacted with a clang, snapping the dark knight's head to the side.

Reeling from the blow, the daemon fell back a step, its sword held diagonally across its body in an off balance, defensive stance as it attempted to regain his senses.

The Paladin pressed the advantage, aligning Dawnbringer's point with the eye slats of the dark knight's skull shaped helmet and stabbed. He failed to realize the faint before the hilt of his opponent's claymore hooked his blade in its guard, locking Morenth's blade as the daemon forced his sword arm up while at the same time slashing across the paladin's exposed chest.

Biting pain and frigid cold exploded from the wound as necromantic magic coursed through the claymore and into Morenth's body, numbing his extremities as it spread death itself into his veins.

"Damn you wretch!" the Paladin seethed, setting his feet beneath him as his sight blurred like the shifting water colors of an obscured painting.

How much left did he have to give?

The gash, that was starting to stain his long coat a disturbingly shade of black instead of red, somehow numbed his body while leaving the pain visceral and untouched by the poison's effects.

With his sword arm still locked, the daemon's armored boot lashed out, knocking Morenth off his feet as it caught him in the chest and forced he air from his lungs. He landed on his back with a dull thud, his fall cushioned by a corpse laying longways under his shoulder blades. The body was facing the sky, and it's face looked up with open eyes glazed and unseeing into the brightening pre-dawn, his mouth frozen in a tired half-grin; Pythoes' remains.

Heat no longer held in his corpse as the cold added and mixed with Morenth's own fading warmth, making him shiver involuntarily. The young lieutenant deserved better than to be left to rot and rise as one of the creatures that had murdered his family, but the Paladin knew better than anyone that death had little care for what was deserved.

The dark knight looked down at Morenth with only passing interest before turning his attention to the horizon where the first rays of light lanced through the sky between the mountains of distant Eldathine. It snarled at Yuelith's gift in disgust and brought his claymore into a reversed, double handed grip with the tip poised over his heart.

"Even if you kill me, you'll not have your prize, filth. The dawn will see to that." The Paladin coughed and felt the blood fall against his face in tiny droplets, then spit at the daemon in defiance. "May Yuelith's light burn your corrupt soul to the void."

His sight flashed pink as the claymore lurched down toward his heart. He closed his eyes in anticipation of his end, and prayed to Yuelith for the safety of Twilight and the refugees after his passing.

And then... nothing.

Several seconds passed without the final blow falling before the Paladin opened his eyes in confusion.

The claymore still dripping with his own blood was held just inches above his chest encased in a familiar pink aura as the daemon knight growled in agitation, struggling to press the blade through the unexpected resistance.

"Morenth!"

The cry came to him as though through a fog as vertigo steadily began to overwhelm his senses, but the identity of the voice's origins was unmistakable.

Morenth's head lulled back to find a splotch of purple against the undulating blackness that dominated his vision. The sputtering pink glow flickered as the figure dropped with a squeak of anguish, still fighting to continue as it became weaker. His heart may as well have been pierced already as it burned with pain and unrelenting sorrow at Twilight's appearance. She was there, trapped, and unable escape the darkness that would soon descend upon her.

She wasn't supposed to die, not for him, not here, not by these things.

'You fool! You're not meant to die like this! You have friends, and family, and a home to go back to!' His thoughts raged and lashed out, trying to force his body to move again. He couldn't feel it normally, but the warmth of Dawnbringer's hilt permeated his groping hand as it passed over the blessed blade. "I won't allow it!"

With an eruption of strength, Morenth's boot smashed into the side of the detracted daemon's knee, causing it crumple as the dark knight was forced to kneel. The blow threw the claymore in his grip off balance as it finally overcame Twilight's hold. It pierced into the head of Pythoes' corpse and into the cobbled street below it, holding the blade fast in the stone.

Ignoring the pain as he rolled over his crippled arm and onto his feet, Morenth brought Dawnbringer into a deadly arc with the rest of his strength behind it. The slash tore through the chain mail quiff in between the daemon's helmet and cuirass, cleaving the dark knight's head from his shoulders. It hit the ground with a heavy thud, and the fiery pits in its helmet slits went dark as death took it, only to be consumed a moment later by the purifying flames of his swords holy enchantment.

The effect on the hoard was immediate. Ghouls stopped their ghastly wails and skeletons stood motionless as the dark magic holding their wills evaporated with the death of their general, lost in a rare temporary confusion as the collective mind slowly started to transition to individual instinct. For the moment however, all was deathly silent besides two sets of labored breathing.

Morenth teetered to either side as the blood pumping in his head became an unbearable percussion of throbbing confusion. Every beat pushed him further away from the waking world, and perhaps his life, but this was not a train of thought he could afford to follow. His time was short and he still had at least one more purpose to fulfill.

With an unbalanced lurch, the Paladin pivoted, facing the western gate and Twilight's nearly motionless form as he pooled what was left of his strength. He exploded into a labored sprint, dragging his body against its wishes toward his fallen companion. The undead were docile for the moment but he couldn't begin to guess how long it would last.

The feeling of his boots pounding into the blood slicked stone of the street was all he could feel besides the agonizing pain burning into his being from his chest and arm as he ran as fast as he could while dodging the corpses that littered the battlefield. He sheathed Dawnbringer as he prepared for a desperate flight back to friendly lines.

Falling to a knee as he passed her, Morenth scooped up Twilight under his good arm, feeling only her warmth instead of touch to assure him that she was still there as he sprinted at the motionless flank of the undead formation blocking passage through the breach. His legs, trained to endure battle while wearing the heaviest of armors, pumped relentlessly as he built up momentum. Cringing, he brought the shoulder of his crippled arm to bear.

Pain shot through his system like lightning, arcing from his shoulder to his chest and up into his head as he plowed over the ghouls and skeletons like ragdolls. They made no reaction to his sudden intrusion into their ranks, and Morenth did his best to shield Twilight from the impacts as he barreled toward the western gate.

The shouts of victory from the main host of guardsmen were only a dull undertone compared to the merciless pounding in the paladin's skull. Colors and shapes began to distort in his vision, leaving him with only a vague approximation of where to go. His thoughts began to untangle as the frigid cold seeped into his veins from his chest wound, slowly shutting down his senses until it felt like he was running in a weightless void with only the light of an infant dawn as a guide post to his goal.

Time stretched out until Morenth wasn't sure how long he'd been running, completely oblivious to his surroundings. The small warmth against his side was the only solid focal point in the churning delirium of mingled sights and sounds.

If Morenth hadn't been in the throws of hallucination he would have been aware of the guards moving along side him cheering and helping keep him upright as they rushed to rejoin their families.

Vague sensations, such as jarring impacts as he stumbled were muted and dulled. His eyes searched feverishly but found nothing that made sense. Only the voice at the back of conscious thought remained.

'Run!'

'Advance!'

'Move!'

'SURVIVE!'

Suddenly the voices stopped as Morenth felt like he was being lifted up, floating listlessly is if surrounded by water. An endless ocean like the Sea of Dawn's Passage, its waves gently rising and falling as breakers caped in white sea foam lapped around him.

'Is this what it feels like to die? If so then it's not so bad...' were the Paladin's last coherent thoughts as he slipped into the blissful darkness of a deserved rest.

On an outcropping concealed by the thick tree line of the Bloodwood a slender, graceful figure watched the steady procession of wagons move across the rolling hills that were the gateway to the Grey Flats, and away from the smoking ruins of a pathetic town called Hollodrum. Her beautifully slender face betrayed nothing of the seething anger that dwelled in her thoughts as the vermin that dotted the landscape below fled beyond her wrath.

A lithe hand as pale as the moon clutched tightly to a staff of gnarled grey wood adored with skulls. Some were human while others were of a darker kin. Its tapered end bit into the earth, killing the undergrowth of the forest as it sucked the life out of it to feed the staff's hunger.

Melondra Viersith, apprentice of the Lich King Val Sermas and commander of his armies, searched with magically enhanced vision as she scoured each insignificant bug crawling around the caravan for her prey.

According to her master there was a hated Paladin among them. One who had dared to harm the powerful Lich King while he was absorbed in an important ritual, the specifics of which her master had chosen not to grace her with. Regardless, there was a reckoning to be had with this man for his crimes, and the duty had fallen to her as the Lich King recovered.

The light of dawn dotted her skin through the shade of the tree but she payed it no mind. She had power over the undead, but she was not one of them, and the sun's radiance did little but make her already pale skin glow with an alabaster white even as the undead at her back retreated slightly into the darker bowls of the Bloodwood. Her pawns couldn't pursue her target across the Grey Flats. It was too open and offered no protection from the light of day.

"Cursed Yuelith." she said to no one in particular, her voice rich and melodious, concealing the heartless cold that hid beneath its feminine beauty. "Oh well, it matters little. I'll just have to make some more pets when they reach the end of their road."

Despite her dark mood, Melondra's lips curled into a sadistic grin.

The hunt was on.

First Interlude

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Twenty-second day of Aquis,
First year of The New Age,
By account of Morenth, the first of his name; Paladin of The Church of Yuelith and third Paragon of the order.

Though only a few years have passed since my first encounter with the unicorn, Twilight Sparkle, it seems a lifetime ago. During those days I suffered from shortsightedness and the temperament of youth that led to many a hot blooded decision that I would later which regret. The years and the lessons therein have nurtured a deeper understanding of my purpose and of myself. For this I only have Twilight to give thanks.

I admit to a crisis of faith where She was involved. When first I pulled Her from the void left by the Archlich and later discovered King among his ilk I must confide I possessed doubt as to Her intentions. Though I was later proven wrong of my suspicions, it remained at the forefront of my thoughts; a lingering shadow despelled only after the razing of the free village of Hollodrum, and Her contributions to securing the safety of the remaining refugees. It is true as well that by Her actions during the battle my life was spared oblivion at the hands of the unnamed daemon knight marshaling the undead invaders.

It has been speculated that my strike against the Lich King provoked the retaliation and subsequent destruction of Hollodrum. Against these speculations and the victimized families that will forever bare the pain of loss I offer no defense. My actions were my own, and for the consequences of those actions I will carry the everlasting shame to my grave, and I expect to never be forgiven for the grievous wound I have carved into their hearts.

I cannot change what has passed, but if I were to be given the chance I would gladly take it. There are many a time to which I wish I could go back and rewrite history, if not for Her sake, then for the sake of countless innocents that became involved in the cataclysm that followed. We could not know then that our blind quest to send Her home would become what it is today, and if She knew back then what is known today I have no doubt that She would have chosen not to pursue it.

It was during the fortnight of our crossing of the Grey Flats that I began to appreciate and acknowledge her presense as what it truly was, a gift. Though I did not know it at the time, she would become a constant companion through countless dangers who would give me the strength to make some of the hardest decisions of my life.

Morenth,
Paladin of Yuelith

Keepers note:
Journals in regards to the first contact with the divines are to be stored in the Black Archive in keeping with the Celestial Accords, and are for the Council's eyes only.

Wagon Wanderings

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There is no easy walk to freedom anywhere, and many of us will have to pass through the valley of the shadow of death again and again before we reach the mountaintop of our desires.

-Nelson Mandela

Stars glittered in the dark sky above the line of wagons as they trekked over an endless plain of silver bladed grass, uncaring of worldly troubles as they twinkled happily in the heavens. They shown like gems watching the sea of grass lilting gently in a breeze that never ceased blowing across the plains. The full moon washed over them and made the drifting blades appear as the pearlescent waves of a quiet ocean. Among the waves sailed the wooden ships of the caravan lit by yellow lantern light, providing warm color against the cool shades of night and the monochrome glow of the moon.

Twilight rested in the bed of her assigned wagon, staring out into the deepening night. It was crowded with people and supplies as it made its bumpy way through the Grey Flats. She couldn't complain. All the wagons were full to bursting, and many of Hollodrum's refugees were forced to walk along side them.

A system of shifts were assigned to every wagon in order to divide the time between walking and riding. During the day, one group would walk while the other group rested, and during the night they would change places. Only a few were exempt from this. One of them lay next to her, propped up under a heavy woolen blanket with his back against the front of the wagon bed.

His face was ashen and his eyes sunken with dark circles as if he hadn't slept. In the low lantern light a sheen of cold sweat could be seen shimmering on his pale features, adding a ghostly quality to his face. Matted black hair clung to his sweat drenched face as he took quick, shallow breaths. His bloodstained clothes lay next to him in a haphazard pile beside Twilight's armor, and occasionally, he would thrash violently before settling back down into quiet shivering.

He was fighting. Even with the battle over he was still fighting. Barely clinging to life as the sinister magic from his wound coursed its way through his body. It had been this way for more than a week, and during that time Morenth hadn't woken even once.

The town apothecary had thankfully survived the destruction of Hollodrum, but even in his expert care Morenth's condition hadn't improved. There was little he could do besides dress the wounds and apply simple healing salves. Most of his herbal stock had gone up in flames with the rest of the town, leaving him with only the local herbs of the Grey Flats to work with.

Twilight herself hadn't awoken until two days after the battle. She'd suffered a magic burnout, pushing her limits too far in the desperation of the battle. It left her in a feverish state of unconsciousness during those two days, but it didn't worry her. Unicorns had burnouts all the time, at least they did in the circles of Canterlot University where scholars and mages pushed the boundaries of magical study on a daily basis. She had at least four separate incidents before when testing magic beyond her abilities at the time, ending up bedridden for days.

Upon her recovery, Riegar filled her in on what happened after she blacked out. Thinking back on his words made her glance back at Morenth's pained features. He'd saved her; carried her from the depths of that darkness while wageing a losing battle against poison induced hallucination and slow death. The guardsmen said that by the time he reached them he was already too delirious to tell friend from foe. When they tried to help by relieving him of her unconscious body he'd fought them even when his hands could no longer hold onto his sword, throwing wild punches at them until the poison sapped his remaining strength.

Across the other side of the wagon, canvas blankets rustled as Wynn shifted in her sleep. She murmured something at the edge of hearing before settling back into her dreams.

'Or nightmares,'Twilight thought sadly.

Wynn had lost everything to the horde of undead; her worldly possessions, her home, and her family. She tried to put on a brave face, but every night she cried silently in her sleep. It wasn't just Wynn. The trek across the plains was hard on everyone. Even Riegar's seemingly endless cheer had become few and far between, his jokes and gruff mirth coming and going in shorter cycles as the journey wore on.

The Grey Flats stretched out in all directions and as hauntingly beautiful as it was the plains offered little in the way of water. It hadn't taken long for the guards to begin the rationing of what they had left. It wasn't much, and most of it was saved for the Tefflas drawing the wagons.

A small portion of Twilight's scholarly interests had come back with the discovery of the gentle beasts. They were extremely large mammals, at least half again as tall as any human and almost as long as the wagons they pulled, and just as wide. Their brown coats were long and soft with curls at the ends, trailing low to the ground around massive, elephant-like feet. Round, docile eyes adorned their blackened faces over their short snouts and absolutely enormous mouths. By the sets of flat teeth inside their maws Twilight reasoned they were strictly herbivores.

Earlier in the trek Twilight had embarrassed herself by trying to open up dialogue with one of them, which was met with good natured laughter from the wagon driver. Twilight's face heated up at even the mere thought of it.

She was shaken from her thoughts by a yawn from the wagon's lowered gate where Riegar sat. The rolling sound was accompanied by a long trail of lazy smoke. He had his back turned to her, but she could hear the sounds of his pewter pipe as he teethed at it, teasing another puff of smoke from it thoughtfully. "Somethin' on yer mind missy?" he asked without moving, "Ain't no use bottlin' it up ye know." She did. She had a lot of things she wanted to ask, but she didn't know how to form the words. Twilight opened her mouth to try anyway, but her voice caught in her throat. "Well, if ye don't know what to ask then indulge an old man in his ramblin's."

He ran a hand through his sandy grey hair and reajusted his pipe. "There things in life ye can't avoid. Death be one of 'em. Oh, we like to think we understand that, but the truth of the matter is we don't, at least, not until we stare it in the face that is." He took another long draw on his pipe and looked over the little lantern lights bobbing in the dark around them. "Lookin' death in the face has a funny why of remindin' us 'bout life, and what it is we want out of it. These folk see tha' now, the young knight too. Ay reckon he's seen enough death to truly know what it is he wants."

Twilight shifted beneath her blanket. "Riegar, I don't-"

"Bah!" he interrupted, taking the pipe out of his mouth, "Ay'm no good at these speeches. Maybe Ay'm not old enough, thank the gods. What Ay'm tryin' ta say is the knight made his choice ta defend the town. It was a choice he made a long time ago when he took his vows. There's no reason ye should be blamin' yerself fer the outcome o' his choices."

Twilight choked on the sudden denial she felt rising in her throat. It was true. She'd spent the nights of the last week running through the battle in her head and came to the same conclusion every time. If she'd just insisted on being on the front line with Morenth then she could've done... something. Warned him of the trap that left him and that young lieutenant isolated from help, or been there to help fight the demon knight, or even just teleported them out of danger. But instead, the lieutenant was dead, leaving the remaining guards leaderless, and Morenth was close behind him, teetering between life and death.

"And," Riegar began, cupping a hand under his chin and letting out a low sigh, "If ye're still set on beatin' yerself up fer it, ask yerself if the lives of the refugees-if the little seamstress' life was worth it. Ay wouldn't have been able to hold the line by meself, and if ye hadn't been there the whole lot of us would've ended up as ghoul droppin's." Twilight winced at the crass description but understood it was just his way of lightening the mood.

Her eyes found Wynn's sleeping form across the cart, and for a while Twilight just watched her, trying to imagine her not being there. She couldn't. Looking back to Morenth, she tried to imagine what he'd say to her and was surprised when she realized she didn't have the slightest clue what he'd say. All the time she'd spent around him the last few days she'd been so focused on finding out about Soulis and how to get home that she never even asked him a single personal question. Lastly she looked to Riegar, his back still turned to her as he fiddled with his pipe. "They were worth it," she answered finally, "And so were you."

Riegar coughed and shifted uncomfortably. "Well, I- Ye know..... Bah! Careful with tha' tongue o' yer's missy. Men have thrown themselves on their swords fer words less kind then tha'." He composed himself again, a companionable silence falling over the wagon as Riegar seemed to become absorbed with inspecting his pipe.

Without warning he asked, "So, now tha' ye've looked death in the eye, what is it ye want?"

He waited patently while Twilight thought about the question. The image of her friends appeared in her thoughts, as did her home and a baby dragon greeting her with a smile on his face. It left her feeling utterly homesick.

"I want to go home." It was such a simple phrase compared to how it made her feel, like a vice was closeing around her heart.

He didn't face her, but Twilight could see Riegar tense up at her response. "Aye, home be somethin' we all yearn fer." There was a weight to his words that felt like he know the sentiment all too well. "If home be what yer wantin', then stick with the knight. He'll see ye there. If he ever gets off his lazy arse tha' is." He let out a rolling belly laugh that warmed Twilight's heart, and slowly, a small smile found its way to her lips.

The dreamer found himself under an old oak on a warm summer's morning, its long branches providing shade against the glare of the sun. The tome in his lap was open but his hands were at his sides, propping him up while the listless breeze flipped slowly through the pages. Inked paintings and lines of scriptures adorned the pages, many depicting the goddess and her many dealings with men throughout history.

The boy under the tree had long since memorized the passages and scriptures of the book in his lap, but he found himself drawn back to it. Yuelith, as the First Men had named her in a time before written history, was depicted as a deity of unquestionable power but also as a being of motherly affection toward mankind. To the boy under the tree, the idea of a mother was vastly enticing. He was an orphan like all the other children of the abby. He'd never known his mother, but some of the other children had come to the abby a little older than the rest and would sometimes talk about what it was like to have parents. The boy would marvel at their tales of families, warm hearths, and bedtime stories, as would the other children like him. The stories weren't always happy. Some were full of misery and poverty, while others were of violence and death. The priests would scold the boys who told them.

Sleep crept up on the boy, serenaded by the scent of the hibiscus bushes that lined the stone walls of the abby. They were tended to by Father Shelby, an ageing man with a warm smile and the rough hands of a carpenter. He was also the head priest in charge of the orphanage and the closest thing the boy would ever have to a father.

Shaking himself free of his lethargy, the boy closed the tome in his lap and began to rise when someone shoved him off his feet. "Look 'ear lads, it's the new kid," said Boris, a fat boy who'd grown tall for his age. He was the leader of a group of bullies all of whom were several years older than the boy under the tree. "What was your name again squirt? Maivis was it?" Boris sneered and looked to his posse for support. They laughed and jeered.

The boy wasn't new enough for them to forget his name. He'd been a resident of the Abby for a season and a half, but that meant nothing to these boys. They just wanted a reaction out of him.

"Maivis? Isn't that a girls name?" one of them supplied, garnering more laughter from the group.

"His name isn't Maivis. It's Morenth," came a voice from behind Boris' posse. A blond haired boy, no more than a year older than Morenth, stood with his arms crossed over his chest. His name was Fythe, and he was one of the boys who'd come to live in the orphanage as an infant. He'd lived there his whole life, and that demanded the respect of the other orphans. "And if you paid attention to your lessons you wouldn't forget it. Or do you not remember the Last Exodus led by Saint Morenth of Karth? It was covered last week." Morenth blushed at being given the name of a saint. It was the first gift Father Shelby had given him, followed by a home.

Boris looked taken aback by the condescending tone in Fythe's voice, but it quickly turned to anger. "Why you sidein' with the new kid, Fythe? All he does is sit by himself with his nose in a book."

"Because he's a good kid that doesn't go around making fun of others to cover for his insecurities," the blond haired boy shot back, "Now back off."

"Or what, blondy," said the larger, older boy in a low tone. Fythe might have been respected by the other orphans, but Boris was the type to take threats very personally. "You gonna run and cry to the Father about it?"

Fythe shrugged, unfolding his arms. "No," he said simply, "I'll make you."

That made the older boy laugh, but the other boys in his group backed away slightly. The priests came down hard on any fighting and they didn't want to risk a brawl if they could avoid it. Boris was a different case. "I'd like to see you try."

He didn't have to wait very long. As soon as he finished his sentance Fythe lunged forward and did the only sensible thing when fighting someone taller and stronger; he punched Boris in the groin with all his might.

The older boy went to his knees clutching his manhood and groaned. He looked at his posse with a face full of pain. "Well? What are you all standin' around for!?" he managed, "I swear, if you lot don't pound this kid I'll make you regret it!" That got the other boys moving.

Morenth watched in alarm as they circled Fythe. One of them lunged at the blond haired boy, forcing him back a step. Just as the group had intended. A lanky member of the posse grabbed him from behind and in that instant all the others closed in to beat Fythe bloody.

As Fythe fended off his attackers with flailing kicks Morenth shuffled across the ground on all fours, looking to get away before the priests showed up to punish everyone. But as he made it clear of the group he glanced back at the blond haired boy who'd stood up for him. With a resigned sigh Morenth changed coarse, coming up behind the lanky boy holding Fythe captive and took a page out of the blond boy's book. His rising uppercut caught the groupie in the crook of his pants, causing the boy to release Fythe and crumple.

It was two to four now and the posse had managed to get a few good punches past Fythe's desperate defense. He sported a shiner under one eye and his nose was bleeding, but he appeared to have lost none of his fight. Fythe looked back to Morenth with a fierce smile before charging the group. Morenth found himself caught up with him in the reckless maneuver, and the fight became a chaotic brawl. It was a losing brawl however, and the group was made up of older kids. When they finally got the pair to the ground it went from brawl to beating.

After the posse got tired and left, hauling away a hobbled Boris, the two boys were left laying in the dirt covered in bruises. Beside Morenth, Fythe forced himself to his feet with a groan. "Owowow! Okay, that's gonna hurt later." As if it didn't hurt right then. He dusted himself of and turned to Morenth with a weary smile and offered his hand.

Morenth just stared at it, then looked the blond boy in the eyes. "Why did you stand up for me?" he asked, trying to find some hint in Fythe's smile.

"What?" He just made a face like Morenth had asked something insanely stupid. "Why wouldn't I?"

Suddenly it wasn't a blond haired boy standing over him but a purple unicorn. The dam burst on the dream, flooding it with urgent memories of the present. The fall of Hollodrum. The daemon knight. Pythoes' death. Twilight trapped!

"This isn't real!" Morenth shouted, his voice no longer that of a child. He looked up to find Fythe standing over him once again with his hand outstretched. "You can't be here," he said, shaking, "You're dead."

The apparition of Morenth's friend began to rot before his eyes until only a skeleton remained. It's sockets burned with souless fire like the daemon knight's. "Of course I am," he hissed, his words filled with venom, "You killed me."

Fitfull Awakenings

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"Dreaming or awake, we perceive only events that have meaning to us."

-Jane Roberts

There was a blinding flash of light when Morenth opened his eyes again. Shadows played across his vision in frantic fits of motion, breaking up the unbearable brightness. There were also voices. Low, indistinct voices that seemed to come to him from miles away.

Something metallic was pressed to his lips followed by a foul liquid running down his throat. He would have fought, but his body wouldn't heed him. It lay useless against the dark magic that had invaded his body. Instead, he tried to cough up whatever rank concoction was being forced on him. His body racked with the effort but managed a few weak heaves and a measure of the disgusting liquid was expelled from his stomach.

He felt something press against his shoulder. It was warm and vaguely familiar.

"Morenth, stop!" one of the voices commanded, rising above the others. "Please stop fighting us. We're trying to help you," the voice begged. The raw emotion behind the plea caused Morenth to take pause. It had been a long while, almost a decade in fact, since anyone had spoken like that to him; like someone truly cared for his well being.

With a rough sigh his body sagged against whatever was propping him up, and the fight rushed out of him. He accepted another draw of the foul smelling drought without complaint, despite it being the most vile thing he'd ever tasted. Even worse than the fried goat bladder he'd eaten while among the hill tribes of Dem'roth in the frozen north.

Slowly, his eyes began to adjust to the light and was greeted by the rotting teeth of a wide smiling old codger. Morenth fought to keep his last pull of what he presumed was medicine form spraying everywhere as he recoiled in surprise. A large hand cupped the old man's head and lightly shoved it out of Morenth's field of view.

"Bah! What're ye tryin' ta do? Knock 'em back out with shock?" came a second voice that made Morenth sigh in resignation, "If Ay woke up ta yer mug, Ay'd beat ye senseless Ay would." The declaration was followed by a pair of girlish giggles before they could be hidden by faux coughing.

Morenth strained to move his eyes and take in his surroundings. He lay in a wagon bed bundled up in layers of wool blankets that left him feeling uncomfortably warm in the direct sunlight. His respite however, came in the form of a gentle breeze that carried the smell of grass and the leftover chill of the mountains it passed through on its journey south. The wagon itself was packed with refugees, both children and adults, who stared at him with looks ranging from curiosity to apprehension. Many looked away or started praying when Morenth's sight fell upon them. Their fear stung the paladin, but it was and old sting. A familiar pain that was easily pushed aside but not so easily forgotten.

Riegar was busy discussing something with the old codger he'd taken aside, but he took a moment to flash Morenth a toothy grin and a nod of acknowledgment before returning to what looked like an argument of some kind.

"...Morenth?" Twilight began, stepping into his view. A wave of relief washed over Morenth at the sight of her. She was whole and unharmed, if a little travel worn. "How are you feeling?" she asked, rubbing her foreleg nervously with a hoof.

Morenth looked down at himself for a moment then back up to the cloudless sky. "Alive," he managed to reply quietly, his throat dry and puffy from weeks of fever, "...and a little numb."

Her strained smile became a true one as she wrapped her hooves around him in a hug that reminded the paladin that despite his muscles being numb and useless he could still feel pain. His shoulder felt like it was being dipped in acid, but he grunted and endured it. That didn't stop him from letting out a sigh of relief when Twilight released him and the numbness settled back in.

"How long have I been out?" Morenth asked, trying to keep his mind away from the absurd idea that the embrace was worth the pain it brought.

"It's been two weeks and three days, almost half the journey," Twilight said distantly, her eyes fixed on the western horizon where their destination lay, "You've been under doctor Bailin's care the entire trip." She motioned to the old man currently in a heated debate with Riegar.

Bailin looked away from his discussion and scratched his balding head in irritation. "I already told you, Lady Sparkle. I'm not a doctor. I'm an apothecary, an herbalist, a druid if you're feeling dramatic."

Twilight scoffed, "But you're still basically a doctor. Perhaps not a surgical doctor, but at least a medical one. Apothecaries were charlatans that believed in bleeding and leaches." The note of disdain was strong in her voice.

Bailin was looking a little red in the face. "Lady Sparkle, bleeding was debunked by the apothecary guild decades ago," he said with indignation, "And there are no marshlands in the Grey Flats to procure leaches from. Everyone knows that."

"Only decades?!" Twilight looked about to explode, but Morenth needed answers, and as entertaining as the exchange was, it wasn't getting him any closer to them.

"How many are left?" He interjected as firmly as he could given his condition.

Twilight looked abashed at her display and brought the volume of her voice under control. "four-hundred and twenty-seven civilians, as well as eighty of the guard made it out of Hollodrum."

Morenth dropped his gaze. "So few..." he muttered distantly.

Wynn took the moment of pause to jump in. "That's still five-hundred and seven people that would be dead now if it weren't for you, lord paladin," she said hurriedly as if afraid to be contradicted, then added in a whisper Morenth almost missed, "Myself as well."

The paladin winced at the grateful look she gave him. "There were more than four-thousand men, women, and children in Hollodrum. Only an eighth of them are in this world now." He gazed across the open plain at the smoke rising from the east. "That's maybe three-thousand undead now running wild across the Eastern Dales if you count the ones slain in combat. They may not be able to cross the Grey Flats but the Bloodwood runs long, north and south, maybe two-hundred leagues and borders the woodlands surrounding Midrasis on the southern coast," Morenth explained, drawing worried looks from around the wagon. "Like it or not, this is not the last we've seen of this horde. If we're lucky, Midrasis will take the threat seriously and launch a force to retake Hollodrum within a fortnight, if not..."

He stopped mid sentence as his body racked with a fit of wheezing followed by painfully ragged coughs. afterwards he felt to weary to continue, and by the faces of the refugees that overheard told him he'd already said too much.

Twilight glanced around nervously at the atmosphere settling over the refugees. "Uh, I'm not very familiar with the geography of Soulis, or its cities," she began, attempting to change the topic before the mood soured, "Could someone explain what kind of place Midrasis is?"

Morenth tried to shift himself toward her but found himself too weak. Cursing himself silently, he settled for tilting his head in her direction. "Midrasis is one of the largest free cities in Soulis, and the second largest port in the southern seas next to Kaldoon..." he explained, struggling for breath, "It also houses the most active black-market on the southern or western coasts, so it tends to attract the a lot of shady vessels of... questionable business..."

Wynn looked on with worry as the paladin paused to catch his breath again and decided to take over. "Midrasis itself is effectively a small country all its own. Most of the towns in the surrounding country side look to it for protection and trade, but it comes at the price of subservience."

Twilight frowned in thought. "Okay, wait a moment, I'm confused. Both Morenth and Riegar mentioned that a High King rules over Soulis. Why do Kaldoon and Midrasis sound like kingdoms of their own?"

"Because they are, well, technically Kaldoon is a duchy and Midrasis is a free city," Morenth answered, sitting up a little straighter. The 'medicine' he'd been forced to drink must have been working. "High King Braxus IV is the descendant of the original King Braxus who united all the lands of Soulis under one banner. However, the treaty was signed under duress as it was a time of great turmoil. A necromancer by the name of Val'goroth rose to power and marshaled an army so vast, that none in Soulis could challenge him."

"Necro...mancer? Like as in a mage with power over death?" Twilight asked, looking a little sick.

Morenth managed a nod. "Yes, and undeath as well. Fearing domination and possible extermination, the various nations of Soulis accepted the terms of King Braxus and became vassal states. This was the beginning of the Unification War, in which Braxus united the armies of all nations and placed them under the command of the White Council to wage a twenty year war against Val'goroth."

Twilight rubbed her chin with a hoof, adopting the same look she had on the morning before Hollodrum fell. Endless curiosity. "Why would he give the armies to the church after he took so much trouble to unite them?" A fair question.

"The original Braxus was a devout man," the paladin lectured, glad to have a topic of discussion in an area of academics he was well acquainted with, "He believed that only the church had the right to wage war against the darker forces, and that putting himself in charge would eventually splinter the combined armies allegiance in prolonged warfare. It is by his actions that the Order is as strong as it is today. Both the office of High King and the church have been closely tied to each other ever since. But that's just glossing over the events that led to-"

Morenth stopped mid sentence, realizing he was rambling on about history like he used to do when he was a child. When he got like this the other kids at the orphanage would tune him out and ignore him. Even Fythe would only pretend to listen. Fythe knew his lessons, but he'd never possessed a passion for it like Morenth had. Nobody did.

"And then?" Twilight asked with baited breath, startling him from his thoughts. Her eyes were wide and intent with focus as if her mind was devouring every word he said.

The paladin stared at his companion in bewilderment. This was supposed to be the moment where her interest would wane in favor of other subjects. Instead, she sat there on her haunches waiting with barely contained excitement as she silently urged him to continue. "Uh, well you see-"

"What do ye mean twenty?! That's robbery tha' is!" Riegar shouted suddenly, cowing old Bailin with the volume of his voice. The smith grabbed the apothecary by the collar of his dirty robes and muttered something into the old man's ear with a sinister glare.

Bailin went white as a sheet, and might as well have been just that in the Riegar's vice-like grip. "I-I'm s-sorry," the apothecary pleaded, "B-but I can't recoup my losses a-any other w-way!"

"Ye might want to talk less Bailin," Riegar muttered darkly, "So we won't see the forked tongue behind yer teeth."

With a concerted effort Morenth shifted himself to face the angry smith. "What's this about smith? You shouldn't waste your energy on pointless arguments."

Riegar took one more look at Bailin and scoffed. "Bah! ain't none o' yer concern knight. Just need five minutes alone to straighten this rat out."

"W-what?" the apothecary sputtered, wincing as the blacksmith popped his knuckles, "Surely there's no need for violence! I-okay fine, I'll drop the price to ten pieces of silver!"

Riegar pretended not to hear the old man and cocked back one of his massive fists. "Obviously, ye need a lesson in honest trade, rat," the smith intoned, dragging Bailin close to his face by the collar, "And don't call me Shirley."

"Wait!" Twilight cried as the smith's poised fist was wrapped in a sheath of pink magic, "Riegar, don't you think you should at least explain why you need to inflict bodily harm on doctor Bailin here."

"Apothecary!" Bailin corrected with a squeak.

"Bah!" Riegar tensed, tugging at his arm for a few seconds before giving up with a roll of his eyes. "Oh, fine," he finally relented, extending his finger from his balled fist to point accusingly at the apothecary, "This rat-" He emphasized his point by shaking Bailin in his grip. "-wants ta charge a king's ransom fer the paltry healing salves he's been rubbin' on the knight's bandages. Twenty silver pieces!"

Against the front of the wagon, Morenth's even expression changed into the ghost of a smirk. "I seem to remember a certain smith who did the same thing upon my arrival to Hollodrum," the paladin said, trying and failing to shrug helplessly, "Truly a frightfully recurring trait shared by blacksmiths and doctors the world over."

Flushing in a mix of embarrassment and frustration, Riegar begrudgingly released the old apothecary and turned to face Morenth. "Ay'm not like this rat," he argued, shooting another look over his shoulder at Bailin, "Every copper knut ye gave me went ta materials, as well as a sir charge fer clearin' me schedule of other orders. Oh, speakin' o' which." The smith reached into his apron pockets and withdrew a handful of copper coins. "here's the coin ye gave me to mend yer armor," he said in an apologetic tone as he scratched his nose, "Never did get 'round ta that..."

Morenth looked at the sum collected in the armorers cupped hand and cocked an eyebrow. "This isn't what you charged me. I distinctly remember paying you more than forty silver coins for your work. Work, I have yet to see."

"Bah! Then work's what ye'll see knight," Riegar proclaimed, his grimace changing suddenly into a wide, toothy smile, "Little missy, if ye'll be so kind as to show me costumer that Riegar is a man o' his word."

By the time Morenth managed to shift his head back over to Twilight her horn was already alight, lifting up an equine shaped leather harness from beside what was left of his discarded armor. The craftsmanship was beautiful, but what drew the paladin's eye was the bright metal back plate and star shaped clasp affixed to the dark cowl. Twilight was proudly displaying the armor to him when she caught his fixed interest. "Riegar, I've been meaning to ask, what kind of metal is this? I mean, it looks like silver, but wouldn't that be too soft of a metal to use for armor?"

"Alirium," Morenth said before the smith could respond. He couldn't stop the slight twinge of wonder in his voice as he examined the piece. "Also known as 'spell steel' or 'true silver'. It's far more durable than mundane metals and can be permanently enchanted by mages without the degradation such spells normally yield in ordinary materials. My own sword, Dawnbringer, was forged of the same metal." The paladin's eyes searched Riegar, trying to find if he missed something about the unassuming blacksmith. "How did you come across such a thing, and why part with it for so little?" Morenth looked over the harness floating in front of him with suspicion. "And how did you make this in a day? I highly doubt you get many three foot tall unicorn costumers."

Riegar grinned and puffed out his chest with swelling pride. "Ha! Ain't nothin' a combination o' inspiration, obsession, and a callin' in o' a few favors couldn't fix. Had ta get the tanner's help fer the vest itself. It was originally a doublet bein' made fer a wealthy merchants son before sickness took 'em, but the size was just right fer me designs. As fer the alirium, Ay had a bit stashed away in the back o' me shed in case o' a rainy day."

With a click of his tongue Morenth adopted a plaintive scowl and was about to grill the smith further when Twilight broke the silence with unconstrained enthusiasm. "Alirium? At what temperature does it become malleable? Oh, also is it an alloy of some kind or is it a new mineral compound? Has anyone experimented with its unique properties to absorb magic, and if so have they determined the source of the phenomenon?" she asked in rapid succession, looking around her for something before adopting a pout, "Oh drat! I forgot I don't have anything to take notes on... or with."

Beside her Wynn perked up and placed a hand on the suddenly depressed unicorn. "If you need something to write with, I think I saw some quills among the supplies in the wagon behind us," she said quietly, "And if we look hard enough I'm sure we can find some scrolls or parchment."

"Oh, and I can mix together some ink from the local plants if you'd like, Lady Sparkle," added a relieved looking Bailin, "I'll go out and do just that."

Riegar's hand shot out and grabbed the back of the apothecary's robe as he turned to leave, hauling him back around to face the angry smith. "And where do ye think yer goin', rat? We still have an issue ta resolve."

"Yes, we do," said Morenth evenly, drawing more panic out of old herbalist, "The issue of your payment."

"What?!" Riegar exclaimed in surprise, releasing Bailin from his grasp who slumped to the bed of the wagon out of sheer relief, "Ye mean ta tell me yer gonna pay this rat after he tried to wriggle twenty silver outta ye?!"

Morenth sighed with as a sudden wave of exhaustion overcame him. "If that is the price of his service, then yes, I will pay him every copper knut he deems necessary. There is no crime saying he can't raise his price as the need for his services increase" the paladin explained, still trying to lift so much as a finger and failing, "What do you merchants call it again? Oh yes, a sellers market." Having said his piece, he fumbled weakly under the wool blankets for his coin purse and found it missing. "Uh, where is my coin purse?"

"It's with yer things in the pile over there," Riegar grumbled, pointing to a heap consisting of the paladin's leather harness, crusader's long coat, and pack. With another glow of her horn, Twilight levitated a jingling purse from within the pack and floated it over to the herbalist. The smith took that time to snort, make his way to the end of the wagon, and hop off to join the groups of other refugees walking beside the caravan.

After a happy Bailin counted out twenty silver coins he held out the purse for Twilight who levitated it out of his hand and placed it back in Morenth's pack with noticeably little jingle. The paladin sighed again and mentally made his checklist of things to do once they reached Kaldoon one item longer.

"If we're quick, we may catch sir Riegar while he's still in the mood to talk," Wynn said in a hushed whisper to Twilight, pulling the paladin away from his thoughts of the future, "And I think doctor Bailin meant what he said about mixing together some ink."

Twilight looked hesitant for a moment and looked over at him with an expression of worry. "I don't know... I mean, I want to know more about alirium, but Morenth just woke up, and doctor Bailin will be away gathering ingredients for a while. I can't just leave him here alone."

Morenth worked quickly to force down more emotions bubbling to the surface at Twilight's display of concern for him. He still wasn't used to anyone showing more than passing interest in his presence outside of their obligations to his position as a paladin of the Order.

"I'm fine," he managed to say before adding, "I could use a little time to myself to organize my thoughts."

It took a moment for Twilight to decide but after a few minutes she nodded. "Alright, but don't push yourself," she began before looking at the paladin with a cocked eyebrow, "I mean it, don't do anything that may cause you to relapse. That means keep your heart rate down, so don't try getting up and walking around just yet."

The paladin kept the wry grin off his face. He couldn't even sit up straight, let alone stand. "Go on Twilight, I'll be here."

After watching his companion hop off the tail gate with Wynn, Morenth went to work on rehabilitating his body, starting with his furthest extremities.

He spent the next several hours thinking the same thing over and over to coax his body into obeying him. 'Wiggle your big toe.'

True, True Friends

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A true friend freely, advises justly, assists readily, adventures boldly, takes all patiently, defends courageously, and continues a friend unchangeably.

-William Penn

"Princess, I'm sorry to say but the ongoing search for Twilight Sparkle has proven fruitless," droned one Celestia's ministers in a frustrating monotone, "Recent reports from the royal guard state they've searched every alley and basement in Stalliongrad and found neither height nor hair of your student. That exhausts our list of sites within Equestria we can effectively search. This also brings to the forefront issues of excessive expenditures of-"

The princess of the sun ignored the rest of the bored sounding stallion's ramblings about the cost of her order to find her faithful student. She cared little if the coin counters in the treasury department were worried about turning an end of year profit. Besides, he'd just confirmed what she already suspected about Twilight's disappearance. The results of the royal guard's search combined with Spike's testimony made one point abundantly clear to the princess. Twilight was no longer in Equestria. Oh, she'd hoped she was wrong and some spell was simply stopping her from locating her student magically, but the evidence was undeniable.

The worst part of this revelation was realizing that she and her sister could do nothing to help Twilight, not directly at least. For reasons only Celestia, Luna, and coincidentally Discord were aware of, the alicorn sisters were unable to leave the borders of Equestria under any circumstances. To do so would only invite disaster.

Thankfully, there were other options to pursue. Options Celestia wouldn't have even dared consider if Twilight had gone missing a few months earlier. In fact, she was waiting for that option to arrive at this very moment, even if it meant listening to her well intentioned but long winded minister tell her that trying to find her beloved student was a waste of time and resources.

As if understanding he was trying her infinite patience, the stallion droned with a edge to his voice that was very close to irritating her when an impossibly placed pie landed on his head with a plop. "What in the name of Celestia!" the minister cried, backing up a step only to slip on some errant lemon meringue and land on his rump, "Good gracious!"

Celestia choked back a snort of amusement at the minister's predicament and adopted a good natured smile. "Oh my, I'm very sorry Footnote but it appears my other appointment has arrived. We will go over the details of the coffers later."

"Oh um, of course your majesty," he replied, trying to regain a measure of his dignity, "I'll just go uh... clean up."

The minister turned to leave but Celestia held out a hoof in gesture to stop him. "Wait a moment Footnote. Turn your head a little to the right please." He complied, revealing a large dollop of meringue stuck to his face. With a thought Celestia wrapped the fruity cream in a golden sheath and removed it without so much as a stain on the minister's fuchsia coat.

"Oh my," Footnote said, flushing in embarrassment, "Thank you, your majesty. I'll call the maids to clean up this mess on my way out."

Celestia glanced at a seemingly empty corner of the throne room with a knowing smile. "That won't be necessary. I'm sure it will take care of itself," she said with a titter, cocking a dainty eyebrow at the offending corner. Footnote looked confused, but he obeyed and left without another word, closing the great golden doors behind him.

Alone, Celestia levitated the lemon meringue still held by her magic up the steps to the throne, floating it in front of her for inspection. After a few seconds she plopped it into her mouth and savored it thoughtfully. "Acceptable," she finally announced to nopony, "Though it could do with a little more sugar and slightly less cream."

"Everypony's a critic," came a sarcastic reply from nowhere, "Besides, who are you to judge after that cake party fiasco in the statue garden three hundred years ago."

The corner of the throne room Celestia had been eyeing suddenly came alive, the empty space distorting as the now unhampered light revealed what was once her oldest enemy. Now, he was her best hope of locating Twilight.

"If I remember correctly, the incident happened within a close proximity of your statue," the princess bantered, thinking of how best to approach Discord with her proposition. If she didn't get him to agree to a few guidelines, who knew what kind of a mess he'd make.

It wouldn't be lemon meringue, that was for sure.

Discord adopted an offended tone that oozed guilt. "Tut tut princess. Placing the blame on my shoulders without proof is a little less than benevolent, don't you think? Besides, nopony was seriously hurt by your flop of a cake." He grinned as he began to float listlessly around the throne room. "I'll never know what made you suddenly think to become an amateur cook, but for what its worth, I forgive you for the mess your guests made of my statue," the avatar of chaos drawled, adding in a whisper, "Even if it took the servants weeks to get the smell out."

'Karmic justice,' the princess thought to herself.

"And it took myself several months to smooth things over with the griffon ambassador, which of course meant partaking in their peace ritual," Celestia said, shuddering at the memory while Discord broke into a fit of laughter, "What? You know I hate fish."

It took several seconds for Discord to get himself under control, time enough for Celestia to force down an un-princess-like blush. "Oh yes, your achilles heel in the diplomatic ring. Tell me, how salty do the griffons like their trout?" he asked, drawing a groan from the princess. "But really, you didn't invite me all the way to your little castle in the clouds to reminisce did you? Five bits says this has something to do with your precious missing student."

"You're right, I didn't invite you here for a chat," Celestia began, raising an accusatory eyebrow at the avatar of chaos, "And if my memory serves, I didn't invite you alone. You should have come with escorts. Five escorts. Please tell me you didn't leave them behind in Ponyville."

Discord chuckled at that and said, "On that note you'll have to wait a second. Five to be exact. Four. Three. Two. One."

As his count down finished the golden double doors of the throne room burst open and a prismatic flash skidded across the polished floor to a halt a few feet from the throne's steps. Rainbow Dash heaved several lung fulls of air before glancing around frantically.

"Where is he!? Did I beat him!? Did I win!?" she asked, looking around to see if there was anypony else in the room. She didn't see Discord floating above her head without a care and let out a whoop. "Awww yeah! Ain't nopony can beat me in a race. Take that Discord!"

At the mention of his name the avatar of chaos yawned and tapped Rainbow Dash on the head. "I'm sorry, did somepony say my name?"

The prismatic mare looked up at Discord and slumped as her jubilation rushed out of her. "Aww, come on, you cheated didn't you."

"Miss Dash, I am insulted that you would even question such a thing!" the avatar of chaos cried in faux shock, "Of course I did. After all, what's the fun in playing fair?"

"We'll see how fun it is when I tell Fluttershy your turning back to your old self," Rainbow Dash grumbled under her breath.

Celestia politely cleared her throat, drawing the pair's attention to her as she stood up and made her way down the throne's steps. "Energetic as always, dear Rainbow Dash. I hope Discord hasn't been giving you all too much trouble."

The prismatic mare recovered from her slump quickly and snapped a crisp salute at the princess. "Of course not Princess, it's nothing we can't handle," she answered with a confident grin, "So, did ya call us here cause you found Twilight?" Despite her attempts to keep her voice calm and aloof, there was a hopeful tone to her voice that spoke of her concern. She and the other elements must've been restless over the last couple of weeks after being told to leave the search in the hooves of the royal guard.

Celestia picked her words carefully while Discord smirked knowingly at her. "No, so far the search has proven less than successful," she began, but catching Rainbow Dash's downcast expression at the news she hurried to continue, "But the fact that there hasn't been so much as a clue to Twilight's whereabouts in the recent weeks leads me to believe she is no longer in Equestria, or Equis for that matter. That leaves only one place she could possibly be."

"Rainbow Dash?" came a cultured voice from beyond the throne room's double doors.

From the doorway came the rest of the elements lead by Rarity who was looking at Rainbow Dash with disapproval. "Rainbow Dash, dear, you had us all worried. You just took off from the train station without a word."

The prismatic mare cocked an eyebrow and looked at Rarity like she may have hit her head on something. "Uh, Rarity, this is Canterlot. What could possibly happen?"

Rarity harrumphed and tossed her mane with expert precision. "How about getting arrested by the royal guard for breaking into the palace unannounced and thrown in a dungeon?" she responded, trotting past the leftovers of pie still laying on the ground with a cringe, "Sometimes I don't know what I'm more concerned with, dear; that you don't think through the consequences of your actions, or that you just don't care about them."

"Yeah, yeah," Rainbow Dash said with a roll of her eyes, "That doesn't matter right now. The princess says she knows where Twilight went."

Rarity took that moment to notice Celestia looking over the spat with an amused smile. "Oh my, I'm terribly sorry for this petty display your majesty," she declared a little over-dramatically with a nervous bow. For the life of her, Celestia couldn't understand why most her subjects were always so daunted by her presence, Rainbow Dash being one of the few exceptions. "But if your majesty has some clue as to Twilight's whereabouts, please continue."

"Before I reveal what I believe to be the truth of Twilight's disappearance, I need everypony present to swear themselves to secrecy." Her voice held no inflection, but the gathered mares shared worried looks nonetheless. "This matter involves the security of Equestria, and besides myself, Luna and Discord are the only ones who are aware of it. Please girls, this is not a matter I share lightly."

From behind Rarity a bright pink mane bobbed up and down erratically followed by an excited 'ooo-ing' sound. "You mean like super-duper-secret spy stuff!?" Pinkie Pie squealed, her bubbly demeanor drawing incredulous looks from her friends, "Does it have something to do with the lemon meringue pie on the ground?! Oh wait, if the secret isn't something you share 'lightly' then do you share it 'heavily'!? How much does it weigh!? What if you carried it in a saddleba-"

The over-excited mare continued attempting to speak even with the orange hoof shoved in her mouth, but all that came of it was muffled gibberish. "Uh, sorry 'bout that yer majesty. Pinke's just been a bit on edge is all. Well, more than usual, Ah mean," Applejack said with a slight bow and added, "We all are."

Celestia smiled at her reassuringly and gestured for her to rise. "There is no need to apologize, Applejack. Twilight's absence has been difficult on everypony, myself included, but I cannot overstate the need for secrecy in regards to what I must tell you all."

"If that is the case your majesty, my lips are sealed," Rarity said, glancing around at her friends, each giving a nod in turn.

Applejack looked a little apprehensive. "Ah don't much like the idea of hidin' the truth, but if it's ta find Twilight then Ah guess Ah could make an exception. Ah promise not ta tell another soul."

"Yeah, and I'm too awesome not to have a few secrets," Rainbow Dash boasted with a smirk, "I'm game."

At this point Pinke escaped from Applejack's hoof and bounced right up to Celestia. "Yay, secret spy mission! I get to use my spy suit again!" she cried in sheer delight before stopping and adding as an afterthought, "Oh yeah, and mums the word. What is a 'mum' anyway? What do you think, Fluttershy?"

The bright yellow mare perked up from a conversation she had been having with Discord. From the look of annoyance on his face it would appear to be a scolding, or as close to a scolding as Fluttershy could manage in any case. "Oh my, I'm so sorry Pinke. I wasn't listening. Did you say something?"

The pink mare grinned. "Just say 'yes'."

"Um... yes?" Fluttershy half-asked in confusion.

"And now we're all agreed!"

"Indeed," Celestia said with an honest smile. She'd always adored her student's friends, and her breast filled with pride as they all looked at her expectantly, not yet knowing the grand adventure that awaited them. It would take them through dark places and would test them more than anything they'd ever faced before, but the princess of the sun held faith in them. They would not fail their wayward friend.

With a steadying breath she prepared to share something no living mortal had known for thousands of years. "What I'm about to tell you all began before the founding of Equestria..."

History of a Dying World

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Three things cannot be long hidden: the sun, the moon, and the truth.

-Buddha

Twilight opened her eyes and looked up at the stars for the sixth time that night. For one reason or another, sleep eluded her. She readjusted herself onto her side, careful not to bump into Morenth who rested next to her, and let out a long, quiet sigh. Every time she closed her eyes the faces of her friends waited for her. It made her feel like her chest was caught in a vice, and any attempts to focus on something other than the pain proved fruitless.

Tearing her thoughts away from home, Twilight distracted herself by letting the night fill her mind. Everything was quiet around her. The wagon drivers slept, and no progress was being made that night as the tifflas enjoyed a well earned rest. Their endurance was nothing short of amazing, but weeks of travel took its toll on even their seemingly endless strength.

"Can't sleep?" a voice beside her suddenly asked, startling Twilight from her thoughts.

"Oh by Celestia!" she gasped, looking in the direction the voice had come from. "...Morenth?"

The blankets next to her shifted but it was hard to make out anything by just starlight. "You were expecting someone else, perhaps?" her companion replied wryly.

Twilight shook her head despite the fact that he wouldn't see it. "No, it's just... Why are you still awake? You may've been in a coma for two weeks but you still need your rest."

Morenth's silhouette blended with the darkness of the wagon and was only vaguely outlined by the stars close to the horizon, but she could still see the subtle change in his posture. "My apologies. It wasn't my intention to worry you," he began hesitantly, "But I try not to sleep at night while out in the open if I can help it. It's a habit one develops after years of hunting the undead."

"Are you afraid?" Twilight asked before scolding herself for such a stupid question. From what she'd seen Morenth wasn't afraid of anything. Surely, anyone who would face down a horribly mutated monster three times his size would be immune to fear. Just thinking of the dissolved puddle of human remains left by the guardsmen who'd attempted to aid the paladin was enough to give Twilight nightmares.

"Honestly? ...Yes," Morenth answered in a whisper, his candid tone surprising her, "I'm terrified everytime I go to sleep, be it day or night."

"Really?" she asked, confused by the blatent lack of any indication of the fear he professed to have in his voice, "I've seen you when things are at their worst, Morenth. At most, you're mildly surprised, but never afraid."

The paladin's shoulders drooped. "You're wrong, Twilight. There's a vast difference between feeling fear, and showing it." Morenth's voice became distant, as if Twilight was no longer there. "I've seen things that would drive most men mad; horrible things that will haunt me to the grave. I've seen heroes fall and cities crumble. I've witnessed every end imaginable so I hold no delusions about what fate has in store for me... Every paladin falls in combat. There hasn't been an exception to that since the founding of the order."

Try as she might, Twilight couldn't stop the shiver that traveled down her spine. "So why even become a paladin if you know that all you'll get for it is a gruesome death?" She couldn't get the image of mangled, liquefied limbs reaching up to the sky in pain out of her mind, but she could have sworn Morenth smiled. Curious, Twilight brought out a light spell. The soft pink light from her horn revealed that the smile on Morenth's face was strained.

He didn't look at her, instead gazing intently up into the night sky. "When I was a squire I was apprenticed to a man named Mormond Schwiss. He was a bear of a man and one of the greatest knights I ever knew," Morenth said with a sad chuckle, "After my first battle I was a mess, couldn't even hold onto my sword I was shaking so much. He took me aside and told me something that I've kept close to my heart ever since."

To her surprise, Morenth weakly raised a hand from under his blanket and held it over his heart, showing remarkable progress in his recovery. "He put my hand to my chest like this and said, 'Do you feel that, boy? Eventually, that heart'll stop beating. It's not a matter of if but when. Death ain't a choice we mortals get to make. What we do decide is how we meet that end... Boy, one day you'll have to choose what it is you'll die for, because if you don't choose to die for something, sooner or later you will die for nothing.'" His energy spent, the paladin closed his eyes and let his arm fall back to the wagon bed. "I'll never forget those words... They helped make me into who I am."

The librarian from Ponyville was struck momentarily speechless by her companion's words. They were so morbid, but it only made the resolve he drew from them that much more impressive. They didn't however, mention anything about finding happiness. "What about living?" Twilight asked hesitantly, "He spoke so much about how to die, but what about how to live? Don't you have any other friends besides me?"

Morenth's features became so pained that for a moment Twilight thought his wounds were bothering him. Her guess was reinforced when he took a labored breath and shifted himself to face her, but the look in his eyes made Twilight believe the pain ran deeper than his poisoned body. It vanished as quickly as it came, hidden behind a well guarded frown. "As heartfelt as this talk is going, I don't think it's going to help you get any sleep," he said dismissively, "If we must talk, then let it be about something of little consequence." Twilight matched his frown with her own and prepared to continue until she got some answers when he added, "Please, my past isn't something I normally talk about... to anyone."

Swallowing her words, the lavender unicorn relented her inquiries. For now. "Fine," she said after a long pause, "I know I shouldn't pry but sometimes my curiosity gets the better of me."

"Then let us sate your curiosity on something other than my personal life," he said without infliction, gesturing to his pack resting near her hooves, "Look in the side pocket for a scroll. Also, if you come across any vials full of colorful liquid, please don't drop them." Twilight's breath caught as she remembered the alchemic explosive he had her pull from his pack in Hollodrum and abruptly stopped her rummaging. A second passed before she heard a soft choking sound coming from Morenth. Looking at him questioningly, she found him holding back a weak laugh as he struggled to keep himself upright. When he noticed her attention he seemed to become aware of himself and coughed in a useless attempt to cover it up. "Ahem, well yes... I uh, wasn't being serious," he managed, catching Twilight's deadpan expression before hastily moving on, "It's near the top. you can't miss it."

Giving Morenth one last glare, Twilight continued searching his pack until her magic removed a weathered scroll with aged oak handles. Carefully, she opened it, revealing an artfully drawn map. The area it depicted however, was unsurprisingly alien to the lavender mare. She floated it between herself and Morenth, expecting an explanation. "This is Soulis I take it?"

"It is," Morenth replied, making an effort to lift his arm again. He pointed to an area of the map colored in silver leaflet. The drawn peaks of mountains surrounded the north, running the length of the silver field until it reached the ocean. A red inked forest also dominated its eastern border. "This is where we are now," he said, trailing his finger over the parchment heading west until he stopped over a spire drawn on the coast, "And this is Kaldoon, our destination."

Twilight excitedly took in everything she could. The geography was so varied it boggled her mind. Then her eyes found something off about the map. inland, far beyond the Bloodwood or even the plains and mountains beyond that, a long, jagged crevice was inked almost violently into the paper, dominating the area around it. It must have spanned hundreds of miles by the look of it. "What's the name of this place?" she asked, raising her hoof to gesture at the anomaly, "I don't see anything else like it."

Morenth's expression darkened slightly as he looked at the foreboding ink scratches. " A stretch of forsaken land known today as The Fallen Throne. It used to be the seat of civilization; a beacon of progress and majesty." His fingers ran over the black fissure thoughtfully. "It was there that Yuelith walked the lands of the First Men and taught us how to truly live. She taught us how to cultivate the soil for crops and how to build structures out of stone. She even gave us the knowledge of magic and how to use it. From the fertile soil of the heartland the first kingdom of man rose, its splendor unmatched even today." The paladin sighed and lowered his hand. Twilight took this as a sign that he was finished, but Morenth merely readjusted himself and continued. "It was a long time ago however, and the few surviving documents are spotty at best, but what we are certain of is that a Sundering took place there."

Twilight gulped, feeling the weight of Morenth's words. "And just what is a 'Sundering'?"

"It's what brought ruin to the First Men and cut an everlasting wound into the very heart of Soulis," he replied gravely, "It was a battlefield. One upon which the gods themselves fought..."

"...And that's how Equestria was made!" Pinkie Pie declared dramatically, causing many of her friends to roll their eyes.

"Pinkie dear," Rarity began, looking at the pink mare critically, "The princess hasn't even begun yet, and it is incredibly rude to interrupt so please keep the outbursts to a minimum."

Unaffected by the disapproval in her friend's voice, Pinkie nodded happily. "Okie dokie lokie!"

Celestia merely smiled at the display and nervously noted how close Pinkie had come to what she intended to discuss in that outburst. Despite her misgivings about having to disclose a secret she'd kept for thousands of years, she couldn't think of any group of ponies she would rather share it with. "To begin, I'd like to first ask you all how Equestria came to be as you understand it."

Applejack spoke up first. "Well, every foal knows how Equestria was founded. It's told every year durin' Hearthswarming Eve," she declared with confidence, "Chancellor Puddinghead, Commander Hurricane and Princess Platinum settled down in the valley of Equestria's heartland in order to escape the famine brought about by an everlastin' winter. When they realized the value of workin' together the windigos didn't have no more hate to feed on and died out, leavin' the ponies of Equestria to thrive for thousands of years."

Amused, the princess tittered, remembering her sister's contributions to the popular fable. "Indeed, now let me ask you all something not covered in the story. How did Luna and myself come to rule over Equestria?"

"That's one's easy!" Rainbow Dash proclaimed, performing aerial maneuvers and a little shadow boxing to add to her telling, "You and Luna swooped in and used the Elements of Harmony to whoop Discord's butt and save Equestria from his evil reign!"

The avatar of chaos rolled his eyes at the display. "Oh please, play a few harmless pranks and suddenly you're the most infamous villain in written history," he said with his signature sarcasm, whisking Fluttershy into a hug and declaring dramatically, "Oh sweet Celestia, it's the devilishly handsome monster, Discord! Run for your little pony lives!" He ended his drama with puppy dog eyes and a pout, which quickly became a knowing smirk. "At least I wasn't trying to live up to somepony else's shadow, unlike a certain princess I know."

Celestia cleared her throat with a hint of annoyance at Discord's infliction. It was already hard enough to discuss without him making it more difficult for her. "That's enough Discord. I'm more than capable of telling them myself without your biased opinions." She turned to face the gathered elements once again and felt an uncharacteristic pang of uncertainty. Forcing it down, she continued. "Yes, that is indeed what was written, and while certain elements are correct, there are many aspects of written history that are... insufficient for good reason."

Her words drew many confused frowns, but it was Rarity that spoke first. "Your majesty, are you saying the stories we were all foaled on, the stories even scholars generally accept as the truth, are purposely vague to mislead us?" There wasn't a tone of accusation in her question, but the trepidation was easy to hear.

"No, not all of it," Celestia admitted, once again daunted by the challenge explaining away several millennia worth of lies, "But as I said, there were many events that were never recorded." It was time. After thousands of years she was going to break the promise of secrecy she made to her teacher in order to save her student. The irony was not lost on her. "There were also key figures that were never mentioned in the annuls. The most prominent being mine and my sister's predecessor, the goddess Epona."

The ponies gathered around her didn't gasp in surprise or even question her. They were too busy absorbing her words. Discord however, laughed and floated over to her in serpentine fashion, placing his arm over her shoulders in mock companionship. "Oho yes, Epona! Now there was a mare that knew how to enjoy a little chaos." He chortled, making the princess twitch with agitation. "She never saw the need to imprison me in a pigeon rest stop, unlike little Tia and Lu-lu. Also, I find it ironic, and more than a little tasteless, that you used her Mantles to do the dirty deed. You know, since it was Epona who decided I was too fun not to have around."

Celestia sighed and gave the spirit of chaos a scathing look. "Yes, and while she was around you were manageable, but the moment she... she was gone you went out of control."

The spirit of chaos smiled as he no doubt prepared a witty replay, but Applejack cut him off by stepping in front of him. "Now, Ah don't mean to interrupt, but who the hay is Epona, and why ain't we never heard of her?"

"Yeah," Rainbow Dash chimed in, "And what does Discord mean by using her Mantles to beat 'em? I thought you used the Elements of Harmony."

"Oh Miss Dash, you are so adorably thick," Discord said as if speaking to a foal, "The Elements of Harmony and Epona's Mantles are one in the same, and they are just as they sound; mantles of power to be assumed by those with the proper... qualifications." Rainbow Dash growled at the insult, but the avatar of chaos continued as if nothing was amiss. "Epona was a goddess of many talents, so to speak, and a god's power is reflected by the ideas their mantles represent. I myself hold the mantle of chaos and disorder." The avatar of chaos paused and glanced questioningly at Celestia, looking for what appeared to be permission to continue. Taken aback by the surprising display of respect, or at least civility, the princess simply nodded wordlessly. "Ahem, Epona herself became the holder of four separate mantles. How she did so is irrelevant to our little missing pony conundrum, but I'm sure you know of the four mantles I'm talking about."

Rarity rubbed her chin for a moment in thought. "Well, there are six Elements so that doesn't quite match," she said, more to herself than anypony gathered, "Maybe combined, as it represents one central idea?"

Her eyes suddenly widened in realization. Discord, taking this as his cue, clapped his paw and claw together in applause. "Indeed you are correct, Madame! The Elements all reflect harmony as a whole, and with that there are three more Mantles within Equestria. Those which are already possessed by three uptight princesses; the sun, the moon, and love. With harmony, they are the Mantles of Epona and the glue that holds this charming little world of sunshine and rainbows together. Without them, the world collapses."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold up," Rainbow Dash said, her wings twitching nervously, "If that's true, what happens if one of the Elements isn't in Equestria anymore? Are we talking 'end of the world' stuff?"

"No," Celestia began before Discord sowed panic among the remaining Elements, "At least, not yet. Luna, Cadence, and myself still hold three of the Mantles, and even with one missing it would take centuries for the realm to become weakened enough to cease."

Discord rolled his eyes. "Oh, Tia... Why all the games? Just tell them. Equestria's collapse isn't what you're really worried about."

The princess shot him a glare hot enough to melt steel, but with his usual theatrics, he pulled a lawn chair and a bottle of sunblock out of nowhere and laid down to relax while he worked up a tan in seconds.

"You're right," she conceded grudgingly, making a concerted effort to regain control of herself, "Right now, Twilight's safety is of paramount importance. We'll be forming a rescue party to bring her back to Equestria with all possible haste." This got several determined nods from the gathered mares, but Discord scoffed in annoyance at her deflection. "I have gathered you all here for that purpose."

"Awwww Yeah! Time to save the day again!" Rainbow Dash whooped, performing various loops and other aerial maneuvers to add to her enthusiasm before screeching to a sudden halt, "Uh, where are we going exactly?"

Celestia drew a deep breath and let the truth out with frightening ease. "You will be traveling to the land of our ancestors, to our home before Equestria came to be. A world that is now corrupted by darkness."

Watcher of the Woods

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The universe as we know it is a joint product of the observer and the observed.

-Pierre Teilhard de Chardin

Celestia sighed as the Elements left the throne room, unsure if she'd done the right thing. As the great doors shut behind them she felt an annoyingly familiar presence remain.

"You do love your secrets, don't you Tia," Discord whispered into her ear.

She ignored him and made her way back to her throne, stopping only to banish the remains of the lemon meringue pie left on the ground. What did he expect to gain from prodding old wounds besides her ire? "I told them what they needed to know in order to rescue Twilight. Any more would be excessive, not to mention dangerous to the realm." Even as she spoke the words rang hollow in her ears as the lie echoed through the now mostly empty throne room.

Discord chuckled under his breath and landed next to the throne, leaning on it in a relaxed fashion. "If that's what you tell yourself to sleep at night, then by all means, continue your little charade around your subjects, but it's pointless to lie to me," he said with a yawn as he inspected his claws, "You didn't tell them how we betrayed the humans; how we left them to rot on a world being slowly corrupted by the Taint. Tell me, is it easier on your conscience that you didn't have the power to effect that outcome, or harder? I've always wondered."

Celestia battled her emotions for control as a very real trickle of rage leaked through her defenses. "She did what She had to!" she half-shouted, half-growled in denial, "Besides, you have no right to question Her. It was you who suggested abandoning them to their fates."

"I did, and I stand by my advise," Discord replied lazily, "If we had brought the humans with us, the seal would have failed long ago. Humans are a very... ambitious species, and even if I did find them most enjoyable, Epona asked me for sound council. I gave it. Or would you rather the seal end up broken by one of the fallen and see Her sacrifice be in vain?"

"We had no choice..." the princess whispered weakly.

Cocking an eyebrow over a half-lidded skeptical look, Discord began to float away toward the golden doors. "Oh please, we did have a choice. She had a choice, and She made the safer, if more boring one; Her subjects over Her pet project. And now it's all backfired since the Mantle you so valiantly shattered when you turned it on your sister has vanished, and with it the seal's stability. You should have known better. Harmony, by its nature, isn't an aspect one easily controls alone."

"You're going with them," Celestia managed, her voice starting to break as she desperately defended the necessity of past decisions in her own mind, "-As a guide. You know how humans think more than anypony else in Equestria."

The avatar of chaos simply shrugged. "I thought as much. When you had me tag along I knew it would be something like that, though I'm not looking forward to passing the barrier. I am still sort of, you know, bound to this world by your beloved mentor's spell, and so I'll be leaving a large portion of my nature here to maintain balance."

"Which was also your own suggestion if I recall correctly," she rebuffed wryly, forcing her emotions back down, "You'll just have to make do while you're there."

He snorted with amusement and donned a half-cocked grin. "Well, She did want to make this world as close to the prime material plane as possible. I just told her the easiest way to do it. Besides, I love a good challenge!"

"This isn't a game."

His half-cocked grin transformed into the sly smile she remembered from the old trickster god. "Oh, I beg to differ, Tia. Survival is a game, and I suggest we start playing before something forces us to fold..."

"What's that?!" Twilight blurted suddenly, trotting off to the side of the procession of trudging refugees. She scanned the edge of the trail through tall, silver grass. The area of the Grey Flats they found themselves in was old, older than the rest of the plains. Its grass grew taller than the wagons and was slowing their progress considerably

Behind her, Morenth heaved himself up to the side of the wagon to see for himself, but instead he saw only the same wall of vegetation that had dominated the area for the last couple of days.

"What's what?" he asked smartly, still a little groggy from his fever.

The lavender mare's face scruntched up in thought. "I... don't know. It was like someone was talking; like the wind blowing through the grass was saying something..."

It may have been her imagination, but Morenth wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt. As a unicorn she could be more in tune with nature for all he knew.

"I've heard of druidic magic that allows them to communicate through plants and trees. Not a self proclaimed druid like Doctor Bailin, but a true druid of the elves, though I can't imagine an elf is just traipsing about the Grey Flats communing with whoever passes by," he explained, drawing a confused stare from the mare, "Of course, elves are creatures of whimsy so anything is possible, I guess."

Twilight's eyes lit up with an unquenchable thirst in their depths "What's an elf?! You said they have a potential for magic so they must be at least partially equient. Are they like the dwarves you mentioned or more like the tefflas? What do their diets consist of, and if they have a culture what are its traditions and histories?"

Morenth let out a gravelly sigh and rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. "One question at a time, Twilight. We have plenty of time to - hey, wait!" he called as the lavender mare slipped between the tall grass and vanished into its depths.

The paladin was up in an instant later, clumsily grabbing his sword as he made his way to the wagons edge. He was only dressed in linens and a pair of slacks but judged there was no time to don what little protective gear he had left.

When he braced his hand on the edge of the wagon's tail gate one of the men grabbed his sleeve and looked at him with worried eyes. "My lord paladin, you're in no state to go after her. It's too dangerous to leave the trail while injured. Allow me to summon the guard from the lead wagon to take up the search," he said hurriedly, many of the other passengers nodding in agreement.

Morenth ripped his sleeve out of the man's grasp, unbalancing him as he fought off vertigo. "I'll not leave this to others! She is my charge, and I will not wait for her to get lost or worse," the paladin snarled, dropping over the edge and landing unsteadily among the broken stocks of tall grass. After regaining his feet, he looked around for any sign of Riegar. The burly smith was annoying, but he was a force of nature with an axe in hand.

Unfortunately, there was neither height nor hair of the smith.

Not wasting any more time, Morenth hobbled to the wall of silver grass he'd watched Twilight enter, and using Dawnbringer as a crutch, parted the shafts before anyone else could protest.

At first it was hard going, moving through an almost solid wall of vegetation, but after a couple of minutes the grass became so tall it began to part. Their bows overhung narrow paths like silver archways and allowed small rays of sunlight to break through the canopy, creating enough light to see by.

Twilight heard the voice again, this time to her left. She turned and found no one there, only more diverging pathways through the grass forest. The voice didn't say anything she could understand, but it was clear that whatever it was, the voice was calling her.

"Hello?" she called out, waiting for a response.

The voice came again. This time it was much closer and caused a shiver to crawl up her spine. Why did she come here? It was clear to her now that if she had stopped and thought about it, she would have never just run off after some disembodied voice, not after all she'd seen of Soulis and its dangers.

A shock of green caught her eye between a pair of archways. She snapped around to look, but it was already gone, vanished into the maze of vegetation.

"M-Morenth...?" Twilight called hesitantly, the sound barely making past her mouth, "Riegar, is that you...?"

Something brushed her shoulder and she let out a small scream as she jumped away, turning frantically to find what had touched her. There was nothing but more grass. Then the voice came again, this time very close. The sound was like someone laughing in a whisper, if that someone was right behind her.

"...W-Wynn?"

"This way..."

This time, Twilight could tell the direction of the voice's origin. She began trotting through the archway it came from only to find more divergent paths.

"This way, child of magic..." the voice whispered from somewhere ahead of her, "This way, child of Epona..."

Forcing her legs to stop shaking, Twilight continued through the maze. Whenever she found herself directionless the voice would whisper in her ears and lead the way. She knew following the voice was unwise, but when she tried to go down a different path she would end up going through the archways the voice had come from regardless.

After what felt like hours Twilight stopped, finding herself looking at an archway unlike the others. The tall, silver grass of the Grey Flats twisted into delicate designs of different creatures along its surface, many of which she couldn't recognize. Mist gathered around the arch, moving listlessly across the ground and around her hooves.

Drawing in a baited breath, Twilight took her first step through the entryway. As she moved through the gathered mist she cast wary glances around her for any movement in the fog but saw nothing. Abruptly, the mist parted, revealing a silver table and two high back chairs, both made of formed grass. in the far chair a human child sat waiting for her, but there was something off about him. His hair was a bright green, woven into various braids above a set of even greener, almond shaped eyes; a color Twilight had never seen on any of the humans she'd met. His ears were also an anomaly she'd never encountered. They were elongated, sweeping back over his braids and pointed at the ends.

The child's arm made a fluid, sweeping motion to the seat across from him, causing the extremely long trails of his emerald colored robe to flourish through the air. "Come, treat with me for a moment," he said with a smile.

Twilight didn't move, causing the child's smile to change into a confused frown. "Before I sit, wouldn't some introductions be in order?" she asked nervously, hoping she wasn't getting on his bad side. He looked harmless enough, but the atmosphere was decidedly creepy. "I'm Twilight Sparkle. Who are you?"

The child's frown was once more a smile as he rested his hands back into his lap. "Oh my, it's so rare to have a guest with manners. Normally they just demand to know who I am without giving their names first. It's quite rude you know." With that he hopped down from his seat and give Twilight a deep bow. "Greetings Twilight Sparkle, child of Epona. I am the Alu'thiade, and I have brought you here to better understand what your presence means. But first, please sit with me."

A dozen questions came to the forefront of her mind as Twilight moved to the chair the Alu'thaide presented, but stopped before it when she realized how uncomfortable the chair would be for a pony. He seemed to notice her discomfort.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry about the furnishings. How about a quick change to something more appealing to your species comforts?" he asked rhetorically, waving his hand at the table and chairs. The change was immediate as the chairs became more like pillows of grass laying on the ground, and the table lowered to an appropriate level to match the new seating arrangement. "There, that's much better. Now, would you like some refreshment? The Sivas Alura are not very accommodating to most creatures' needs so I imagine it's been quite rough."

"The 'Sivas Alura'?" Twilight asked, starting to forget her anxiety.

"Hmm, that's right. The humans call it something else these days, don't they?"

"The humans? So you're not a human then?"

Alu'thiade began to giggle, taking his seat at the far side of the table and motioned for Twilight to do the same. By the time she took her own seat his giggling had subsided. He sat with his legs crossed in a way that looked very uncomfortable to her, but he didn't seem to notice. "Oh no, I'm not a human. Usually, my ears prove that assumption false to most. But enough about me. I'm much more interested in you, and why you're here."

Twilight taped her chin with a hoof. "Well, I heard a voice in the wind, and I couldn't help but follow it. I'm guessing that was you?"

The strange child donned a rueful smile. "Yes, it was, but what I want to know is why you're here... in Soulis."

He waved his hand again and two tea cups that seem to be made out of leaves appeared in front of him. After passing the second cup to Twilight, Alu'thiade took a sip from his own cup and looked at her expectantly. The air around him was starting to put her on edge.

"And why would you want to know that?" she asked, taking a sip from her own cup to find that it was filled with a sweet, honey flavored tea and was quite delicious.

"My name was given to me by the elves. Did you know that?" he asked, changing the subject abruptly. He didn't wait for her to answer. "Its meaning doesn't translate into the common tongue easily, but the closest it comes to is 'he who watches the comings and goings of all', and as it implies, I am very interested in the first of Epona's children to be seen in millennia. And of course, the meaning that holds for the rest of Soulis as I am sure it is vast."

"There wasn't any reason," Twilight confessed, fiddling with the cup between her hooves, "It was all an accident. And what do you mean 'Epona's children'?"

Alu'thiade frowned for a moment and appeared deep in thought. "You mean you don't know? This is a most interesting development. Tell me, who is the matron of your kind if not Epona?"

"Well, Celestia and Luna are our rulers, but you didn't answer my question. Who is Epona?"

He didn't seem to hear her question as he took another thoughtful sip from his cup. "The sisters hold the mantles now? That is... most troubling to hear. And with the seven on the move..." The child who was clearly not a child trailed off, setting down his cup as he looked over at the wall of grass forming the room. "Hmm, it appears the guardian has arrived."

Moments later, the wall of grass was cut apart as Morenth staggered through looking pale and winded from the exertion. He spotted Twilight and sighed in relief until his eyes found Alu'thiade. The paladin jerked his sword up, pointing it at him as he drew in ragged breathes. "I don't know what you are pretender, but you are no elf!"

Alu'thiade grinned wide at Morenth's accusation, rising from his sitting position to offer a bow. "Very good young guardian, the spiritual awareness of the paladins hasn't degraded in the slightest." He bent down to the table and took his cup, taking another sip of the brew as another seat formed next to Twilight's. "Tea?"

Back Alley Sally

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"The only thing that should surprise us is that there are still some things that can surprise us."

-Francois de La Rochefoucauld

Morenth sniffed the contents of his cup, checking for any foul play. When he found none he took a hesitant sip, all the while glaring daggers into the pretender. He took the form of a child, but the paladin could feel the truth, or at least a hint of it. Its presence was nothing like an elf and not quite like one touched by magic either. It was pervasive and yet everywhere.

If an accomplished sorcerer was like a river of power, this child was an ocean; an ocean sitting across from the one he'd sworn to protect. His nerves felt like a coiled spring as he watched for the first hint of aggression, and his free hand began to curl into a tight fist near Dawnbringer's hilt resting in the grass next to him.

"This is quite a lovely turn of events," the pretender commented, smiling at Twilight and then at Morenth, "It's been a long time since I've had two guests in one day. Oh, and there's no need to be so on edge, guardian. I don't intend harm on either yourself or your charge. I only wish to have a few questions answered before I'm on my way."

Morenth wasn't placated by the "Alu'thiade's" assurances until he felt a hoof on his knee. Glancing over at Twilight, he found her still looking at the pretender, but she shook her head and removed her hoof slowly. The paladin relaxed his posture and drew his hand away from his sword in compliance.

The Alu'thiade giggled childishly at the display as he ran a finger over the lip of his cup. "And so very loyal. That is most reassuring. Now, my first question is for you, Twilight. What do you intend to do now that you're here? Are you a herald of change, or just a lost traveler?"

"I'm looking for a way to get home," Twilight replied, cutting straight to the point, "You wouldn't happen to know how to do something like that, would you?

The child that was not a child smiled in an odd way that put Morenth immediately back on edge. "And what if I did?" he said slyly, causing Twilight to straighten where she sat and look at the pretender with wide eyes.

"Then you will tell us," Morenth rumbled in a low voice, lacing it with the ghost of a threat.

The Alu'thiade looked almost shocked by the paladin's aggression before he broke out into uncontrolled laughter. It took several minutes for the pretender to calm himself, causing Morenth's patience to wear thin. "Oh-oh my, that is the most amusing thing I've heard in centuries," he managed, still laughing slightly under his breath, "You have my apologies guardian, but I cannot answer your questions. I am an observer; a watcher. It isn't in my nature to answer; only question... and watch."

"Please!" Twilight pleaded in a sudden outburst, "You're the closest thing we have to a clue! Please, just tell us something to put us on the right path!" Seeing Twilight reduced to begging in front of the Alu'thiade tore at Morenth with a ferocity that took him by surprise, and he began fighting down a very real urge to remove the pretenders head from his shoulders. He reached for Dawnbringer when he noticed the Alu'thiade looking at him with a deep smile.

"Well, it seems you've answered my second question without me having to ask, guardian. It is most fortuitous the child of Epona found you. An able knight indeed, to defend her honor so," the pretender said as he rose and waved his hand over the silver table. It became mist, along with the cups, and dispersed along the grassy floor. The Alu'thiade turned to leave, the long trails of his emerald robes floating over the ground like green wraiths.

Just as Morenth prepared to bare him to the ground and demand answers, the Alu'thiade stopped, cupping a childlike hand under his chin in thought. "Hmm, very well..." he said to himself absently, "In praise of your faithfulness I will offer you a small pittance of what I have observed as well as a word of warning."

He turned and stared into Twilight's eyes, his features donning an expression that made even his childlike appearance carry an undeniable weight. "Seek out the memoirs of Lia'noria, the Fallen Saint. Within that text you will find what you desire, child of magic."

"The memoirs of Lia'noria," Twilight repeated to herself, a flickering hope reflecting in her eyes from being presented a clear objective.

"The warning however, is for you, guardian," the Alu'thiade half-whispered as mist started to gather at his feet, "No matter the enemies you face or the trials you endure, know this; if you fail in your vigilance, or you forsake your charge, the tithe on her blood will be paid by all."

With that, the child who was not a child began to walk away, the mist spreading out from the archway he walked through until it obscured everything around them. When it cleared Morenth found the he and Twilight were standing in a field of non-descript tall grass with the labyrinth of archways nowhere to be found. The room and grass pillows were likewise gone, leaving the pair to stare at each other in confusion until the voice whispered one last time. "Make haste, the Seven move from within the shadows..."

The pair sat in silence for several minutes digesting what they'd just heard. Twilight was the first to break the tense atmosphere as she faced the paladin.

"Morenth...?" she whispered, an edge of fear evident in her voice, "...Will you stay with me? Even after I find where I need to go to find a way home, I mean? I know you said you would travel with me until I found a clue, but... I don't know if I can do this on my own."

Ever since the fall of Hollodrum the paladin had been waiting for her to ask this of him. Before, he would have hesitated. With Twilight's origins and her confession of the use of dark magic he'd feared she may have been a lie sent by the Archlich to subvert him, but no more. Her selflessness in the defense of the helpless and the courage she showed when rescuing him from the daemon knight spoke for her character in ways words never could.

His will determined, Morenth drew Dawnbringer from its sheath and knelt before the lavender mare. He struck the blade into the dirt and pulled out the silver pendant from around his neck, clutching it tightly as he spoke. "Twilight Sparkle of Equestria, I, Morenth, first of my name and paladin of the church of Yuelith herby place you under my Oath of Aegis. I will uphold your honor, defend your kin, strive to fulfill whatever purpose you set forth, and protect you till my dying breath... From this day till the day you see fit to release me from my oath, my sword and shield are yours. By my honor, my life, and Yuelith's name I swear it." Morenth kissed his pendent to seal his word and held out his sword to her. "Do you accept my oath?"

Twilight looked a little overwhelmed by his display, her eyes wide as they moved between Morenth and the presented blade. Instead of taking his sword, which was the customary response, she ducked under Dawnbringer and tackled him with a hug, baring him to the ground in his weakened condition.

Morenth didn't know how to react to his companion's response as she buried her face into his chest and began to cry, but after a heated internal debate he moved his free arm around her shoulders and held her as he waited for her to quiet. His mind had to forcibly remind himself that he'd sworn the oath out of a sense of duty and not because of the troublesome emotions that seemed to bubble up at the sound of Twilight's sobs.

"..."

"Is... that a 'yes'?"

He waited for a moment before her sobs subsided. "...Thank you... and yes," Twilight said into his chest, her voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt and a little raspy from crying, "I know I'm asking a lot from you, but without my friends I just feel so... lost."

With a groan Morenth managed to sit upright, taking Twilight with him. "Twilight, look at me," he said as he placed his hands under her shoulders and lifted her away from him, forcing her to look him in the eyes, "You are not lost." His serious expression changed slightly as he adopted a small, wry smile and added with a matter-of-fact tone, "You're in Soulis."

It was a horrible jest even for Morenth, and if Twilight's dumbfounded expression was anything to go by, he'd failed terribly. But after a few seconds of her just staring at him, she smiled and began to giggle. "Morenth, I don't want to be the bearer of bad news, but... your jokes are terrible."

Morenth grumbled under his breath and set her down in front of him as he rose to his feet. "They were never my forte. Come, if the caravan leaves us behind, it'll be a long walk to Kaldoon," he said, sheathing his sword as he turned to leave. He stopped suddenly, bringing a hand up to hover over where his pendant laid against his chest. With great pain he closed his hand around his most precious possession and lifted it from around his neck, holding it out in front of him to inspect. It'd been given to him the day he'd passed his apprenticeship under Lord Commander Mormond Schweiss. One was given to him, the other to Fythe. After the ceremony they'd traded pendants to seal an oath of brotherhood, so technically it was Fythe's.

Making a gift of a knight's pendant was customary when swearing an oath of protection.

"Morenth? What's wrong?" Twilight asked as she moved in front him. It took him a moment to realize he'd been staring at the pendant for several minutes. He silently bid farewell to the necklace that had been his symbol of faith since the beginning of his quest and held it out to her.

"No, nothing's wrong I just... I want you to have this." Before she could object, he looped the silver chain over her head and took a step back. It looked good on her, if not appropriate.

Twilight glanced down at the pendant then up at Morenth. "Isn't this something important to you?... No, I couldn't-"

"Tradition demands that I give you my pendant to seal the oath," the paladin interrupted, "As long as you possess it, you possess my sword. You can only give it back to me when you hold my oath fulfilled and release me from your service. Until then, keep it safe."

Morenth walked past her in the general direction they'd left the caravan, not waiting for a response and only checking briefly to make sure Twilight was following him. She looked dazed for a moment before trotting after him, easily keeping pace as he forced his way through the tall grass. The trek back was made in silence as the paladin's mind slipped back into the darker memories his pendant represented and hoped to Yuelith it would bring better luck to its new keeper.

A short, cloaked and hooded figure groaned as she looked over the crowded market streets crawling with panicked shoppers. They were shouting up a storm as they bought and haggled for almost everything not nailed to the ground. The figure was here for a similar reason and thanked the gods that her seller was not the sort to sell his wares in the streets. Still, he had his own clients who would likely be caught up in the rising panic of the city, so time was still of the essence, and the longer she took, the less chance her seller would have what was needed.

With a resigned sigh she pushed toward the nearest alley way and disappeared into the shadows of the narrow path.

In Midrasis, it was considered most unwise to travel the backways of the city as one would most likely be pickpocketed, mugged, or kidnapped and sold in the slave markets of the undercity. However, the cloaked girl wasn't worried in the slightest, being more than capable of taking care of herself, despite what some thief might think.

As if summoned by her thoughts the sound of light footsteps echoed from behind her. It was probably one of the orphan thieves since there didn't appear to be any sign of others. Working alone in the back alleys of Midrassis was a quick way to the pyre, and only the orphans picked up by local thieves guilds would risk it.

The girl didn't want to force the situation into a confrontation with the little pickpocket, if only because the kid's life was probably hard enough as it was. She decided on a show of force to scare the little urchin into finding an easier target.

The cloaked girl held out her hand to one of the lanterns overhanging a nearby backdoor and reached out with her mind. Immediately, she felt the hot flames concealed beneath the glass and pulled on its more primal nature. The lantern shattered as the heat from the flame grew immensely, fed by the girls will. With a thought, she called it to her. The flames shot out of the now shattered casing and formed itself into a brightly glowing ball hovering just over her open palm. She turned toward where she'd heard the footsteps and cast the flaming ball down near her feet, erupting the fireball into an inferno that formed a barrier between her and the rest of the alley.

"Run child, you won't find easy coppers here," she told the seemingly empty alleyway and was rewarded with the sound of panicked footsteps that became quieter as they gained distance, "Well, now that that's over..."

The mage turned back in the direction of her destination when a bright flash followed by a deafening crack erupted in front of her, blinding her as she toppled backward onto her rump. Instinctively, she threw a warding hand out toward the flash and summoned her will, drawing on the lingering flames again. The fire heeded her call and rushed forward in an undisciplined, but powerful, display of fire magic, coating the high building walls in blooms of deadly heat.

From inside the torrent of fire, a chuckle could be heard, as well as several cries of alarm. "Oh no, this heat is absolutely ruining my mane!" someone cried out, giving the mage pause as she processed the refined nature of the voice.

"You see? This is what I love about humans! We're here for all of two seconds and all Tarturus breaks loose!" another voice called out through ever rising laughter. Then, with a sound like the snapping of fingers, the mage's spell faltered as the flames condensed into tiny glowing dots. The tiny motes of light then grew wings and began fluttering around like insects. "Ha! 'Fireflies', get it!? Even with a handicap I've still got it!"

The mage could only gawk as the 'fireflies' lit up the alleyway to reveal her would be assailants. They weren't what she would have expected even in her weirdest dreams. Five tiny, brightly colored horse daemons and a creature that looked like a warlock had tired of regular chimaeras and tried for something truly bizarre stood together wearing cloaks that did nothing to hide what they were.

Her mind worked furiously to piece together what kind of crazy illusion spell had been used to distort her senses only to find no traces of magical tampering in her head. Either the illusionist was just that good, or what she was looking at was real. Both scenarios scared her more than she cared to admit. Especially when she noticed that the trap had been prepared specifically for someone like her.

If what stood before her had been imposing or horrifying, the mage would have continued her assault regardless what her eyes were telling her, but the sight of the tiny daemon horses stopped her in her tracks. They were just too gods damned adorable to harm. In fact, she was trying to repress a growing urge to hug them and only barely managed to quiet a high pitched squealing noise from escaping her lips.

"Oh dear, I think we've scared the poor thing," the light yellow horse daemon cooed, moving toward her slowly, "It's okay, we won't hurt you little human."

"Little!?" another one of the daemons, the cyan one, asked incredulously, "It's almost as tall as you while sitting, and it attacked us!"

The little light yellow horse daemon looked away from the cyan one abashedly, scuffing the ground with a hoof, "It's not its fault... Most animals attack when they're afraid, and we gave the poor thing quite a shock."

The mage felt the slimy sewage water trailing down the middle of the alley way begin to seep through her cloak and robes. She was about to force herself to stand when the little yellow horse daemon offered a hoof to her. reluctantly, she took it and soon stood over the strange creatures, who were apparently not hostile.

"Thank you, umm..." the mage began, motioning to the colorful horse daemon to name herself. Now that she thought about it, Hippler's Guide to Devils and Daemons had a more technical name than 'horse daemons', and for a moment she flushed at using the general moniker more in line with colloquialism than the correct scholarly name for such creatures. Windigos they were called, though the ones before her didn't fit the full description given to her by the book. For one, they weren't trying to murder her with ice magic.

"...Oh! I'm terribly sorry, my name's Fluttershy and these are my friends," the windigo said meekly as she blushed, motioning with a hoof to the group around her. Now the mage just had to figure out what in Tartarus the creature that looked like an amalgamation of parts was. Whatever it was, it was currently grinning at her in a way that made her eye twitch nervously.

"The name's Dash, Rainbow Dash! I'm the fastest pegasus in Equestria," declared the cyan one, who the mage now realized was sporting a rainbow colored mane under the hood of her cloak. She made a note that the creature didn't call itself a 'windigo' and wondered if perhaps they were an undocumented species, or if they called themselves something different than human terminology.

'This could be a great find!' the mage thought to herself excitedly, loosing herself in her musings as the others introduced themselves.

"And Ah'm Applejack, nice ta meetcha," the orange one said as it extended a hoof to her. Curiously, it wore a hat under the hood of its cloak. It took a moment for the mage to realize it expected a hand shake, or maybe hoof-shake was a more appropriate term. Cautiously, she reached out and took the offered hoof in hand. She was pleasantly surprised that it was warm to the touch, not demonically freezing and sucking the life out of her.

What came next however, was perhaps the most vigorous hand/hoof-shake she'd ever experienced. It was so powerful she nearly fell face first into the lazy trail of sewer water at her feet, but thankfully, 'Applejack' stopped before the mage lost her balance completely

"Applejack, darling, there's no need to be so rough," the white one said with a small huff, moving around Applejack while pointedly avoiding the sewage trailing the middle of the alley, "Hello there, my name is Rarity. Please excuse my friend's... excessive greeting." She did what looked like the equivalent of a curtsy and offered her hoof in greeting as well. The motion drew back its hood slightly, revealing a very surprising new facet on the creatures forehead.

"You... Y-you have a horn!" the mage half-shouted, drawing her hand back in a sudden panic. Her mind rapidly reassessed the creature, cross-referencing this new revelation with various historical and religious texts. The church of Yuelith, one of the most prominent religious sects on Soulis, were beholden to a creature of similar features to the one in front of her. "But unicorns haven't been seen in centuries- no, millennia," she mumbled to herself, trying to come to grips with the possible magnitude of the meeting.

"Well, it seems humans haven't completely forgotten about ponies," the chimaera hybrid commented with a chuckle, apparently overhearing her mumbling, "Though whether that's a good or bad thing remains to be seen. Tell me human, is there any particular reason you only reacted that way when you discovered madam Rarity here was a unicorn?"

The mage debated for a moment whether to answer or not, but her curiosity at these strange visitors soon got the better of her. "Well, uh-"

"-Discord," the creature supplied, looking at her with an expression that seemed to be assessing her reaction to the name.

"Right. Well, Discord, I don't know what you and the others are, but unicorns haven't been observed in thousands of years," the mage explained cautiously. She didn't like the way Discord was smiling at her, like he knew something she didn't. In fact, she hated whenever anyone knew something she didn't, but she resolved herself to remain civil. "However, I notice similarities between, uh, Rarity and your other companions... minus the horn. Perhaps denoting a close relation in species?" she asked hopefully. If so, then it was the greatest find of her generation.

Discord sighed heavily and rolled his eyes. "Oh by Celestia's eating disorder, you're like her clone or something," he groaned in frustration, "But yes, there are three separate races of ponies; unicorns, pegasi, and earth ponies. You'll find a good mix of them among my 'companions' here." He gestured to the gathering of 'ponies', but the mage found something off about them.

'Weren't there five a second ago?'

"Hi!"

"Guuaahhhh!" the mage cried, stumbling back as two huge blue eyes suddenly dominated her vision.

"My name's Pinkie Pie, but you can call me Pinkie!" the bright pink pony chattered excitedly while upside down, "I've never had a friend from another world before! That means I'm gonna have to have an extra super special awesome 'Hi I'm an alien and you're kinda an alien too so lets be friends' party!" Somehow, the pink ball of energy was sitting on the mage's shoulders with her body slumped over the girl's head, staring intently into her eyes as she continued to talk at dizzying speeds. "Oh, it'll be so much fun! We'll have streamers and balloons and cake! Do you have any favorite party games like pin the tail on the pony, or maybe-!?"

Thankfully, 'Pinkie' was enveloped in a luminous, blue aura and lifted off the mage's shoulders before she had a mental breakdown. The matching aura around Rarity's horn raised a few questions, and the mage recovered immediately at the exciting prospects of her new 'friends'.

"I'm so sorry about that, dear," Rarity said, giving Pinkie a disapproving look, "Pinkie tends to be a little much for most ponies. I do hope you'll forgive her."

The mage made a note that, given the difference in both accent and manners, there was a large social gap between the ponies gathered. That meant it was possible that ponies had a need for such things; things like societies, towns, even a form of government perhaps.

"It's alright," the mage said as she wiped off the tails of her exposed robes, "But, before I ask anything else uhh...." She hesitated for a moment, not wanting to be rude but needing some kind of proof that these creatures weren't going to suck out her soul or something. "...You aren't daemons in disguise or anything... right?"

"..."

The cyan one, Rainbow Dash, fell down onto the alley floor laughing, tearing up as she tried to keep herself from suffocating.

Coughing, the mage tried in vein to cover up her rising blush. "What?! I had to ask!" she nearly yelled, trying to speak over Rainbow Dash's fits of laughter.

Rarity moved around Rainbow Dash, shooting her a scathing glare at her lack of manners, and made her way up to the mage. "Dear, why would you even ask such a thing?"

"Well," the mage began, "It wouldn't be the first time a daemon appeared before a mage to offer a deal in exchange for his or her soul. I just want some kind of assurance that this isn't a trap or something."

Rarity blinked. "Have we given you some kind of reason to suspect us, dear?"

Now it was the mage's turn to chuckle nervously. "You did just appear suddenly out of nowhere and dispel my evocation like it was child's play, so you kind of have me at something of a disadvantage."

"Now dear, we've introduced ourselves and all you have done is ask questions," she said chidingly, "So it is you who have us at a disadvantage miss..."

The mage was so taken aback by being scolded by a unicorn, it took several lingering seconds to process the lull as a question. "...Oh uh, Azalie, Azalie Bestandeel. Journeyer artificer and dabbler in evocation," she said, recovering enough to bow politely. "So... if you're not daemons here to steal my soul, then what are you here for?"

Discord's grin in response to her question filled Azalie with a sense of dread in how familiar it was. She wore a similar expression whenever dragging someone into some crazy scheme that would most likely end in disaster. "Ohoho, that would be quite a long story, so let's go with the abridged version shall we?"

'Why do I get the feeling I should just walk away and forget everything I just saw?' she thought morosely to herself. It didn't matter in the end. Azalie had long ago resigned herself to the fact that things tended to blow up around her. To fight it was pointless. To accept it was madness. But all she could do was stand there and listen to one of the most bizarre creatures she'd ever seen pontificate with wild flourishes as he explained about a unicorn named Twilight Sparkle, and their quest to find her.

'I should've just taken the street...'

Cities by the Sea

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"All the elements deserve respect, but never forget that fire is to be both respected and feared. It is the only element that seeks to consume all things simply by existing."

-Evokers' proverb

"Are we there yet?"

"No."

"Are we there yet?"

"No."

"Are we there yet?"

"No! For the love of all the gods of every race please stop asking that every five seconds!" Azalie nearly screamed, doing her best not to sprint down the alley and away from her interrogator.

She pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration as she did everything in her power not to immolate her new friends. Well, one of her new friends anyway. Pinkie Pie had spent the last thirty minutes asking if they were 'there' yet, and the mage didn't know how much more she could take before losing her mind. It probably didn't help that none of the ponies knew where they were going, but Azalie pointedly ignored that in favor of hating every minute of her life spent with the pink ball of energy.

"I'm sorry about Pinkie, dear, but I'm sure you could placate her if you at least tell us where it is we're going," Rarity chimed in, doing her best not to look sick. The alleyway wasn't quite agreeing with her sensibilities, or so the mage assumed, seeing as she was doing an admirable job of keeping up whilst dodging every puddle or errant drop of sewer water they passed. She looked up at Azalie with a friendly smile tinted with a slightly greenish veneer. "There really is no need to be so secretive, is there?"

Was there? Did ponies know about the Circle's regulations or the High King's Law? Probably not, but to avoid trouble in the future Azalie decided discretion was the wiser choice given the many unknowns surrounding the strange creatures.

"Before you all showed up I was headed to a friend's place to pick up a few... things. And now, I guess I'll call in a favor or two to see if I can get you ponies somewhere to sleep while I'm there," Azalie explained as she rounded another corner in the back alley maze, "Call it a hunch, but I have a feeling none of you know where you are, and I imagine not many inn keepers will be happy to rent you a room, all things considered."

'Best not mention I want to keep them to myself so I can get credit for the discovery.'

"And why would an inn keeper be unhappy 'bout rentin' us a room?" Applejack asked, showing absolutely none of her friend's concern about sewer water as she trotted through a puddle, causing a messy splash. "We won't raise no fuss or nothin'."

"On the contrary, no innkeeper with a sliver of good sense would even associate with you. None of them want the thieves’ guilds or slavers making late night ventures to their place of business, if you know what I mean."

By the looks on their faces, they didn't. Except Discord, who was hanging back and watching the exchange with a crooked smile.

"That's stupid," Rainbow Dash fumed, "What's a 'slaver' anyway?"

Azalie resisted the urge to groan. "Someone who keeps or sells slaves... Have you all been living under rocks for the last thousand years or something?" Considering unicorns, and apparently ponies in general, hadn't been seen in thousands of years, the possibility did exist. The mage made a mental note to investigate that as well.

"Well dear, since the Crystal Empire's seal was only recently lifted, slavery has not been thought of in our culture for... well, a thousand years give or take. Not that it's a popular topic, mind you. But a thousand years does tend to dull the memory," Rarity explained, shooting a disapproving look at the prismatic mare. "Honestly Rainbow Dash, did you pay attention to Twilight at all during our trip north?"

As Rarity gave Rainbow Dash a lecture on the importance of paying attention, Azalie's mind was doing flips trying to wrap her head around what was just said. According to the white unicorn, ponies had founded entire countries. Apparently under all the races' collective nose. Of course, the elves could have known and just not shared the knowledge, but even so, the act of hiding an 'empire' was just implausible.

'Or maybe I'm just making too many assumptions. I don't need more guess work. I need information.'

At the back of the group, Discord let out a loud groan. "Oh, just ask already. If you keep it bottle up in that little head of yours any longer, it's likely to pop."

Azalie stopped in her tracks, dumbstruck by the patchwork creature's accuracy in which he read her thoughts. She unconsciously bit her lip as she prepared to get some answers.

"Okay then, where are you all from? Where have you been? Why are there more races in your species than just unicorns?" The mage rattled off, unable to stop herself now that the dam had burst. "How many of you are out there? Why haven't we seen any sign of your species for thousands of years? Of all the places to appear, why here? Why now!?"

Discord took the mess of questions in stride, smiling as he crossed his arms and waited for her breathing to slow. "There is a perfectly good explanation to all of your questions, my dear." Azalie sighed in relief at being given answers to the many queries jumbling around in her head. "And that explanation is..." Discord announced, pausing for dramatic effect. The mage held her breath in anticipation of some ground breaking revelation that could change how humans understood history, only to have the chimera place a claw over his lips and grin almost wickedly. "... A secret."

It was Azalie's turn to let out a long suffering groan as Discord chuckled to himself.

"Fine," the mage growled, pointedly looking away from the patchwork creature, "Can you at least tell me why you’re keeping it a secret?"

Discord's chuckle died down, but even as he spoke, the amusement was thick in his voice. "Why, the same reason you're keeping your destination a secret; because we're not sure who you would tell that information to. On your own, you're a small, if insignificant threat to be sure. But if you told others... I would rather humans not go sticking their noses where they shouldn't be stuck- no matter how amusing it might be."

"Don't take it personally, Besty~!" Pinkie Pie chirped, "We Pinkie Promised not to tell anypony our secrety-secrets or else everypony would be frowny faced forever!"

Azalie cringed at the way she butchered the common tongue then paused in thought.

"Besty?"

Pinkie Pie's smile became uncomfortably wide. "It's your name, silly willy! I couldn't come up with anything for Azalie, and Bestandeel is wa~y too long, so I shortened it. It's super cool 'cause you're best human, Besty!"

The mage shuddered, but she made it her mission to let the pink pony's antics slide off her.

'Calm, Azalie... Your pride is not so fragile as to break at being given a nickname.'

Despite Azalie's obvious annoyance, Pinkie stood upright and clopped her fore hooves together in excitement. "Ooooo, you know what this means?" she asked enthusiastically, "We should have a 'congratulations on your new nickname' par-!"

"Oh, would you look at that! We're here!" Azalie hastily interrupted, motioning frantically to a simple oaken door she stopped in front of.

Like the rest of the alleyway, the door was a little grungy and sported rusty hinges along with a hint wood rot. The group would have walked right past it if it weren't for the single lantern hanging above its frame. Grey, the proprietor of the establishment, went to great lengths to stay out of the larger guilds attention, especially the Circle of Sagecraft. They tended to be more interested in the High King's Law than the various thieves' guilds working the Undercity.

Though Azalie herself was a journeyer enchanter of the Circle, that didn't stop her from being one of Grey's regular customers.

She turned to the ponies and rubbed the back of her neck self-consciously. "I, uh, think it's best you all stay outside and let me explain the situation befo-"

Before Azalie could finish, Rainbow Dash rapped her hoof against the unassuming door as she hovered in place. The mage didn't even favor the brash pony's wings with a thought for fear that she would overload. So many questions...

"We're closed!" came the irritated replay from a familiar voice. "If you'd like to place a special order, slip a note under the door and I'll have it in a few days, and if you're here about the bloody Nirn crystals, bugger off! I don't deal in fairy tales!"

Forgetting her plan to ease Grey into meeting her new friends, Azalie gave the door an impatient huff. "Grey, it's Azalie. Open up."

There was a long pause that stretched on for several minutes before the sound of a latch being undone could be heard. The door cracked open just enough for Grey to stick his face out and confirm her identity.

While not a young man, Grey's age was almost impossible to tell. Mainly because, like his name, the unruly shoulder length mess he called his hair was a solid grey. Adding that to the lack of creases on his face that would normally come with age, the dubious peddler was something of an enigma. What she, and the rest of his customers did know was that if you needed any trinket or item, whether it be mundane or magical, Grey could procure it with little effort.

"Azalie," he greeted with cautious smile, "What do you need my services for this time? Some rare tomes perhaps? Or more materials for your experiments?"

The mage placed her hands on her hips and cocked an eyebrow. "Can I at least come inside to discuss my business, or are you going to make a lady stand in the middle of an alley while you cower behind a door?"

"One can never be too cautious when dealing with you magical types," he said with a quick laugh, "But you can't really blame me can you? The city's in an uproar. You heard the news?"

Azalie gave the shady peddler a morose smile, "I've heard the rumors. Though I am interested to hear your take on it. May I come inside?"

With a nod he opened the door to let her in but froze when it opened wide enough to see Rainbow Dash hovering just in front of him.

He didn't scream or jerk away. He just stared at the cyan pony with a deadpan expression, switching his unamused gaze between the two visitors before he attempted to quickly slam the door in Azalie's face. The mage was faster, shoving her foot in the doorjamb as Grey tried his best to crush her foot.

"No! Just no!" the peddler declared loudly, "I'm not stupid, girl! Remember the last time you got me mixed up in your crazy experiments!?"

Azalie sighed and rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on, Grey. I said I was sorry, didn't I?"

"This is a place of business," he spat, eyeing her from the crack in the door, "Not your personal laboratory for forbidden studies. I lost three fortnights worth of profits in bribes the last time you roped me into your insanity!"

Losing the last of her patience, Azalie focused her will on the lantern above the door and forced the flickering flame within to flare up, breaking the glass of its housing. Not wanting to burn her favorite shop to the ground, she took only a portion of the heat into her open palm, and with a practiced application of will the heat compressed until it was fit to burst.

"Grey, please open the door, or I'm going to lose my temper and do something you'll regret," she said sweetly with a strained smile.

The sweat was visibly running down what little could be seen of Grey's face as he stopped trying to force the door closed. "Please, don't break my door."

"No."

Azalie slapped the flat of her palm against the faded wood and released the growing pressure in her mind, freeing the compressed heat in a controlled explosion that made her pony friends duck and cover their ears. The oaken door was blasted off its hinges, through the entryway, and into the adjacent room, taking Grey with it.

When the dust settled she looked over to the group of shell shocked ponies and an unruffled Discord with a tight smirk. "Shall we?"

Rainbow Dash was the first to recover. "Whoa! That... that was so cool!" she gushed before coughing and readjusting her expression to one of indifference, "I mean, not as cool as me, but it was pretty alright."

"Y-you don't... think he's hurt do you?" Fluttershy managed to squeak from behind Applejack.

With a brief glance inside to survey the damage Azalie shrugged. "If that could really hurt him, he would have gotten out of the way. He's more slippery than you could imagine."

From inside the building came a few weak coughs and a groan. "Damnit girl, that's coming out of your next purchase..."

"See?"

"So, what's Kaldoon like?" Twilight asked, trotting beside Morenth at an easy pace. Occasionally, she would be forced to slow down as the paladin wasn't yet fully recovered and tended to stumble every once in a while. Even though he showed marked improvements each day, the process was taking too long by the paladin's reckoning. Any normal poison would have worked its way out of his system within a week, and yet, his malady lingered still. "You said it's a 'duchy'. What does that mean exactly?"

The change of scenery from the Grey Flats to the forest they now traveled through signaled that the end of the caravan's journey was near, and Twilight had become full of questions when he told her such.

Morenth sighed, an act that was quickly becoming far too commonplace, and kept his eyes on the bramble ahead of him to avoid the embarrassing act of tripping over flat ground. "So the topic of today's discussion is politics, is it? My favorite subject..." It wasn't. In fact, Morenth hated both politics and politicians in general and did his best to avoid them whenever possible, but when Twilight's face lit up at what she had mistaken for enthusiasm, he swallowed whatever misgivings he had of the subject and prepared to at least humor her. "What forms of government are you familiar with?"

"Well, Equestria was a monarchy until a few years ago. Then, Princess Luna returned from exile, and it became a diarchy again after a thousand years of having only one ruler," Twilight explained, grabbing Morenth's attention at the mention of a princess instead of a king, "There's also the Griffon Kingdoms and the Zebra Tribes, but zebra culture is so decentralized I don't think they have an overreaching form of government. Oh, and the Crystal Empire, which only appeared recently."

"That raises a few questions of my own. Exactly how long lived is your race?"

Twilight tapped her hoof to her chin in brief thought. "As a general rule ponies live about eighty years, though some can last well past a hundred depending on the situation."

"So about the same lifespan of a human. Interesting..." Morenth mused before getting to his real question, "Then what about this Princess Luna? Was she exiled in a form of stasis or is the title inherited?"

The lavender mare stifled a giggle. "Oh no, Princess Luna is an alicorn. She doesn't have to worry about age like the rest of us ponies," she explained with a smile in the face of Morenth's confused look, "Both Princess Celestia and Princess Luna are immortal."

Morenth tried to work his mouth into forming words, but it failed him as nothing came out. After several seconds of complete silence, the words finally came. "When you asked me if Yuelith was the ruler of Soulis, it wasn't a joke, was it."

"No..." Twilight's head drooped lower to the ground. "In Equestria, the Sisters ruled justly since the close of the pre-classical era almost three thousand years ago. Well, minus the incident with Nightmare Moon a thousand years ago."

Despite Morenth's relief that the conversation was leaning away from politics, he couldn't help but feel distressed by the depression in Twilight's every movement. "That sounds like quite the tale, but if you'd rather not talk about it, I'll understand."

"No, I'm fine. It's just..." She struggled for the words for a moment. "...I miss them. I miss Equestria. And every time I think about how I may never get home, I just feel..."

"Lost?" Morenth supplied, his expression softening. He hadn't believed his terrible joke or promise to stay with her would expel the lonely doubts she'd revealed to him in the Alu'thiade's realm, but he still felt he had to say something. "As long as you don't lose sight of who you are, you'll never be lost."

Twilight looked up at him with genuine surprise written across her face. "Okay, who are you and what have you done with Morenth? You know, the broody one?"

The paladin couldn't stop the grin before it came to his face. "If it makes you feel any better, it wasn't me who originally said it."

"Then who did?" she asked.

His rare mood couldn't last as he thought back to the one he referred to. "I... don't remember."

The lie burned like acid as he said it, playing off both his hatred of lying and the pain of having to deny his memory. The verdict of the White Council was absolute, and Morenth was sworn to uphold their judgment. It didn't help that the more time he spent with Twilight the clearer his memories of a time before his ascension to paladinhood became.

"Probably a traveler I met on the road or something of that nature."

By the look on Twilight's face she didn't believe him, but before she could voice her thoughts a hand ran gently through her deep blue mane, shifting her attention.

"Good morning, Twilight," Wynn greeted softly, slightly bent over in the act of petting as she walked beside the lavender mare who seemed to enjoy the attention. She glanced up at Morenth and realized they'd been having a discussion. Fumbling over herself, the seamstress managed a hasty bow. "And to you as well, your lordship."

Morenth tried to make his expression as unintimidating as possible as he waved her off. "There is no need for formalities out here on the road, Lady Wynn." The only times the paladin cared to have his title recognized was during those occasions when foolish dullards kept him from his duty. Mostly, he preferred to go unnoticed as long as there were no delays.

"O-oh my," Wynn muttered, blushing behind her auburn bangs, "I'm no lady, milord. I've not the quality of nobility."

Morenth scoffed at the mention of 'quality' and the nobility in the same sentence. "I've eyes of my own, seamstress, and I see more quality in you than any courtly lady I've come across."

Her blush becoming deeper by the second, Wynn began stuttering almost incoherently in an attempt to respond.

She never got the chance to as a call from the front of the caravan was echoed back. A boy standing on the driver’s bench of a wagon up ahead of them turned and cupped his hands to his mouth, shouting back, "It's the Sea Spire! We're almost to Kaldoon!"

Twilight looked up at Morenth questioningly as the refugees around them began to cheer. "What's the Sea Spire?"

"The Sea Spire is the name of the Archduke's keep. It's called as such because the foundation was built off the coast, making it utterly impossible to attack from the land," the paladin explained, picking up his pace as much as he could given his state, "We should be able to see it in a moment."

Just as he promised, the trees of the forest gave way to the rolling plains of Soulis' eastern coast, offering a clear view of the Sea of Dawn's Passage as it stretched across from one end of the horizon to the next. Morenth smelled the crisp salty air of the ocean as it washed over him, and even with the lazy clouds offering only patches of sunshine, the coastal water sparkled in the distance.

Against the breaks and cliffs of a prominent cuspate stood a tall redstone spire with sharp architecture and gold accents. Even hidden mostly beyond the limestone cliffs, the red keep cut a striking silhouette against the sea's blue waves.

It took a moment for Twilight to find her voice again. "I thought you said it was a city."

"Oh, it is, but I didn't want to ruin the surprise," Morenth replied with the ghost of a chuckle, "We'll be entering from the south so you'll be able to see what travelers call 'The Fairy Falls'. I haven't seen them in years, myself, so it should be a treat for both of us."

The mood of the caravan was one of elation as it made its way over the open hills and fjords. The road was no longer dark and filled with hidden dangers to the folk of lost Hollodrum, and for every expression of relief from the elderly and every smile from the young, Morenth thanked Yuelith. He thanked her for seeing them through the depths of Tarturus and for giving him the strength to stand beside them, but most of all he prayed for her continued vigil to last until the darkness was forever banished from the world.

On a similar trail further south a pale faced figure moved with great purpose, her macabre walking staff scaring any passersby into silence despite her beauty.

Melondra Viersith couldn't contain her mirth at making such good time circling south through the Bloodwood. In a matter of days she would be at the gates of Kaldoon and within striking distance of her target. Her lips twisted into a sweet smile as she imagined the horrors she would inflict on the paladin for his crimes. All it was going to take was some silent observation to find his... weaknesses, and then the fun part would come.

"Excuse me, miss?" someone called from behind her.

The necromancer turned to the speaker, still wearing her smile. "Yes?"

The speaker was a middle aged carriage driver going the same direction as her, and though what he transported was a mystery to her, Melondra saw opportunity in the chance meeting.

"Well, I saw ya walkin' all alone and wondered if ya might be needin' a ride."

Her tongue licking the inside of her lips, Melondra favored the unfortunate driver with a serpentine grin. "Oh, that would be... wonderful."

Backroom Dealings

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"Intelligence without ambition is a bird without wings."

-Salvador Dali

"I honestly don't know what's scarier; the miniature talking windigos following you around, or you doing something out of the kindness of your heart..." Grey favored Azalie with a skeptical look before glancing around at the ponies occupying the various spaces of his back office. His eyes finally got to Discord, who seemed completely bored with the present company as he was currently entertaining himself with a nail file he was using to trim his beard... Azalie didn't catch Grey's reaction since her own was to promptly wipe the scene from her mind before she could think too much about it.

When her mind finished copeing with what she hoped would not be a regular occurance, she found that Grey had taken a seat and looked more preoccupied with trying to find a comfortable position in his cushioned armchair than actual conversation. Being flung into a shelf of his own wares had dampened his mood considerably, but that was more for loss of profit than any injury he may have sustained-which he apparently hadn't much to Azalie's annoyance.

She decided to humor him regardless. "What's that supposed to mean? If I wasn't so kind hearted, you'd probably need an apothecary right now... or a priest."

"I swear, the wrath of a woman scorned is a terrible thing to behold," he quipped, managing a chuckle.

"Hey, I let Applejack help you out from under the door, didn't I?"

Grey frowned and looked to the orange mare in question, who was finishing off one of the scones he'd offered them along with a pot of tea. "Only because they insisted. That puts them way above you in my book."

"..."

With their usual exchange over Azalie rubbed her hands together nervously before taking a seat herself.

"So, what have you heard?"

Grey shifted his eyes away from her, inspecting an empty corner on the room as he became absorbed in his own thoughts. "Not much. That's what worries me. It's the same no matter who you ask. Smoke rises from the north-east, and no merchants or travelers have been seen on the forest trails in weeks..."

For a moment Azalie felt a chill creep up her spine. "So it's true then..."

Even Grey's flippant nature couldn't conceal the unease hiding behind his brown eyes. "The Guild Union believes as much at least. I heard they called an emergency conference in secret not but a few days ago. Planning for the defense of the city, or so they say."

"I guess all we can do is wait and see..."

Fluttershy took that moment to look up from her food and hear the tail end of the conversation. "... I'm so sorry for interrupting you, but wait and see what? -If it's okay to ask. If you don't want to say, that's fine too..."

"Sorry love, but we don't want to worry you with hearsay," Grey said in a surprisingly soft manner. "Besides, it's nothing you'll have to worry about while you're in the city."

Fluttershy nodded but looked concerned all the same.

"..."

"So, about why I'm here... Can you do it?" Azalie asked, cutting right to the chase.

In response to her question the gathered ponies stopped eating and waited for Grey's answer. They didn't know what she and the peddler were talking about since most of what would have been said was mostly silent communication and assumptions, but they could sense it somehow involved them.

Grey stood up and began pacing what little floor space was left in the cramped office, picking up a wooden pipe that sat alone on the window sill. He chewed on the end without lighting it and mumbled to himself in hushed tones before looking back to her.

"If you're talking about your usual materials, then yes. After you busted up my door I could use the business..." He paused, looking out his window for whatever good it did him. The view from it was mostly taken up by the adjacent building. "But offering these... creatures-"

"-Ponies," Azalie supplied, always a stickler for proper terms.

"...Offering these 'ponies' sanctuary isn't in my best interest." She wanted to argue with him, but he continued, holding out a hand for silence. "Hold on, Azalie. I didn't say no, but you'd have to make it worth my while. There are many in this city that would go to great lengths to acquire them, several of whom I do regular business with."

'Acquire' was the word he used, but what he really meant was 'enslave'. Azalie didn't even want to imagine how much some snooty, upper class merchant or nobleman would pay for a legendary unicorn, let alone two previously unknown species, or for that matter, how far they would go if they weren't for sale.

"Uh, beggin' yer pardon," Applejack spoke up, drawing everyone’s attention at the sudden interruption, "But we don't need no sanctuary, not that yer offer ain't a kind gesture. We're just lookin' fer Twilight, and the quicker we find her the better."

Azalie became instantly nervous that they would insist on searching the city themselves. Not only was such an action dangerous, but it also allowed for the possibility that someone else could file the discovery before her, and that was unacceptable.

"No!" the mage stated firmly, startling the ponies. She had to think fast if she wanted to keep them there. "Uh-I mean, you'll be too limited if you try searching Midrassis by yourselves."

"Then what do you suggest we do, dear?" Rarity asked, levitating a cup and saucer up from the table to take a sip, "We cannot simply sit around and do nothing while Twilight could be in possible danger."

Azalie grabbed her own cup in a most unlady like fashion and downed the contents, preparing to make a deal that had the potential to end very badly for her. "I'm not saying you should do nothing, but doing something without a plan in a city you don't know is the height of stupidity."

"And your proposal?"

"Stay here-" She held out a hand to quite the protests rising from the gathered ponies, "-wait, let me finish. Stay here for the time being and let me see if I can dig up some information on your friend. If I find out where she is, I'll let you know immediately, and we can go get her. But as it is, she might not even be in this city. Grey, have you heard anything?"

Grey was still chewing on his pipe as he listened. "...No, I haven't, and if anyone were to be selling something as mythical as unicorn horns, let alone whole unicorns, I wouldn't be left in the dark." He paused and turned to face Azalie with a perturbed expression. "And while your plan is solid, it does hinge on me harboring these ponies until you find something, and you have yet to offer me anything in exchange."

Biting her lip, Azalie thought about what might be valuable enough to dissuade Grey from simply selling the ponies behind her back. She had plenty of magical items to trade as she was, after all, an enchanter by trade, but the peddler had no shortage of arcane trinkets.

"What do you want?"

"Hmmm..." He looked around the gathered ponies before focusing on Rarity and idly muttered, "If the legends are true, the dust from a unicorn's horn would make quite the powerful enchanting base..."

The unicorn in question looked aghast and promptly fainted where she sat, slumping against a cowering Fluttershy.

"What?!" Rainbow Dash yelled, flying up into Grey's face, "You touch one hair on any of my friends, and I'll-"

"Pffffft!" The peddler inadvertently covered the prismatic pony's face in spittle as he broke into uncontrolled laughter, falling back into his cushioned armchair with his hands clasped at his side. "Y-you should s-see the looks on your faces!"

Azalie folded her arms in disgust, and though she tried her best to look purely outraged by his comment, she couldn't help but imagine a few of the possible applications of a unicorn horn. Academic curiosity aside, Rainbow Dash looked on the verge of violance, and Azalie needed to take back control of negotiations before the brash mare sunk any hope of an agreement. "You're not as funny as you think... I mean; what do you want that is mine to give?"

"How about a night in the sa-aaaaahhhhhh?!" Before he could finish, Azalie found herself of a mind with Rainbow Dash, and Grey quickly found out that hot tea was indeed hot when applied to the face. As an added bonus, Rainbow didn't seem to mind at all that it was her tea that was used for what Azalie considered a group answer to his antics.

"Cut the jokes, Grey! Name your price before I name it for you!" It was a bluff. Azalie didn't think for a second she could get away with crossing the shady shop owner if the exchange went past their usual banter. He was too well connected for her to just bully him into accepting a deal, at least, not without angering his mysterious backers, none of whom she knew. When dealing with underworld elements, it was usually what you didn't know that got you killed.

When Grey recovered, he didn't get angry or lash out. Instead, a large wolfish grin spread across his face. "Actually, there is something you can do for me. A favor I've been dying to ask you for a while now, but I just didn't have the leverage to get it from you."

Sweat began to bead under Azalie's hood at the thought of what Grey could possibly want from her enough to wait until he had her in a position where she couldn't refuse.

The first words of his offer made her blood freeze. "It's about your father..."

"Wow..." Twilight managed to breath, gaping at the spectacle before her. She wasn't alone.

There weren't many in Hollodrum who ventured as far west as Kaldoon, save a few merchants, and it showed on their faces. Just to one side of the caravan was a sheer cliff down into the rocky shoals of the coast, but not a single glance was spared for it in lieu of the cliff face on the other side.

Instead of layers of rough sediment, the many delicately angled juts of colorful limestone wall were smooth as polished glass and wept tiny rivers of water that formed into miniature waterfalls and pools. The light from the noon day sun caused the water to refract the already impressive display of color into a light show that only nature could produce. Like so many crystals, droplets of water splashed over the lips of naturally formed pools and gathered into small manmade tunnels carved under the path to be drained into the sea.

Next to her, Morenth wore an almost imperceptible smile as they made their way to the head of the caravan, passing by many onlookers just as enamored with the sight as she was.

"The Fairy Falls are one of the natural wonders of the world," he explained, his smile widening slightly as he recalled his lessons from the Abby. "You can't imagine how livid the elves were twelve-hundred years ago when they discovered humans had built a city next to it. It actually sparked a series of minor wars with the elven territories some decades after Kaldoon's founding."

Twilight sighed in disbelief. "What I can't imagine, is how humans could fight with other races when the deceased rise up and cause disasters. It doesn't sound like the wisest thing to do when every soldier that dies becomes a problem for both sides."

"That's the funny thing about us humans..." Morenth began, his smile falling, "If given enough time, no matter how horrendous the circumstances may be, humans will find a way to rationalize them and adapt, until they only think of them as minor issues. This facet of human nature is a double edged sword as you can imagine. It gives us the courage to overcome almost anything, but it can also numb us to the problems around us, especially the problems of others."

Twilight glanced away from the delicate waterfalls and looked at Morenth with a bemused expression. "You've put a lot of thought into this, haven't you?"

The paladin tried and failed to hide the heat that came to his face. "No!... Just an observation from my travels."

"But the fact that you took the time to see it proves you were putting a lot of thought into the subject. That at least proves that not all of you are like that. Besides, from what I've seen, you choose to involve yourself in the problems of others on a regular basis."

Morenth looked away from Twilight's warm smile, ashamed by her undeserved praise, "If only she knew how much I've had others sacrifice for the sake of my duty. If she did, would she still look at me the same way?" Instead of voicing his guilt, he said, "I think the same could be said of you, Twilight. This world is not your own and yet you risked your life to defend complete strangers. For you to possess such character, I can only imagine you are someone of great import in your own world."

His attempt to redirect the conversation caused Twilight to turn a bright red and sputter for a moment. "O-oh, well, I don't know about that-I mean, sure I was chosen as Princess Celestia's student, but that was more luck than anything else, and it's not like that gives me any authority on matters of state!"

The paladin didn't even try to hide his surprise as he looked at his companion in amazement. "You mean one of the immortals you mentioned before? I can't imagine one just happens across such an honor by accident. Frankly, I thought this would be something you would be proud of." Certainly not an achievement to be explained away by luck.

The shock on Twilight's face was almost scandelious. "Oh no, I didn't mean to imply I'm not proud to be the Princess' protege!-I mean-I don't... Urrggh!" Any impact her angry outburst would have made was stolen by the childish pout that found its way to her lips. "Don't do that!"

Morenth couldn't help but notice his smile was beginning to return in spite of his best efforts to remain straight faced. "Do what exactly?"

"Twist my words around like that. It's not nice."

"If you calm down a little, you'll find that you're the one twisting words, Twilight," Morenth replied calmly, stopping for a moment to face her. "I didn't mean to imply you don't value your position. I'm just confused as to why you would under rate your importance when your own ruler acknowlages your potential enough to teach you herself."

Pawing the ground at her hooves, Twilight seemed lost in thought. "You know, my friends said the same thing. Not in so many words, but they did tell me to have more confidence in myself..."

"Sound advice. You should listen to them. There's nothing for you to gain from doubting yourself." For the second time that day Morenth spoke words not of his own making, and though the slight ache that accompanied them was pushed away with practiced discipline, the paladin was becoming worried by the increasing frequency of resurfacing memories best left forgotten.

Unaware of her companion's troubles, Twilight beamed up at him. "Thanks, Morenth... Sometimes the important lessons need to be reviewed for them to really stick. I'm just glad I still have a friend to remind me."

Morenth's discomfort with the word 'friend' was slightly dulled by the warmth in her voice as she said it. Even so...

"Twilight... I don't-"

"-My lord, Morenth!" A town guard cried from further up the road, running with reckless abandon as refugees scattered out of his way. "Come quickly! The gate to Kaldoon is closed! They refuse to allow us entrance!"

Morenth clicked his tongue in annoyance and cursed. "Eternal night take us all, and save us from useless dullards!" he spat, turning back to Twilight with a curt nod. "Forgive me, Twilight, but this matter needs my immediate attention. If these refugees begin to think they will be refused shelter after all they've been through, we may have a riot on our hands." Twilight gave him a look. "... And hooves," he amended apologetically.

The refugees around them were already starting to talk in hushed voices as the pair made their way to the head wagon. Tefflas stomped their feet nervously as if sensing the distress of their drivers, and even the battle hardened guards looked at a loss as to what they should do.

As they neared the head wagon the gates of Kaldoon rose up to meet them; massive white stone walls cut from the very cliffs they guarded. Morenth couldn't help but assess them from the prospective of an invader. They were too high to climb with spikes, and with no individual stones in the construction there were no weak spots for long range siege weapons to damage, even if one could fit such a thing on the cliff pass in the first place. Murder holes and fortified ramparts made the paladin pity any soldiers ordered to take it. They would not, however, bar entrance to him.

Just outside the imposing structure a few Hollodrum guards and a large group of refugees were engaged in a shouting match with what Morenth assumed was the gate captain. Their exact exchange was lost as they yelled over each other, and little progress was being made toward securing passage.

"In Yuelith's name cease this pointless bickering!" Morenth bellowed, glad his voice had recovered enough to accomplish his intent. "Who's in charge here?!"

Many of the refugees scattered at the sight of the paladin, not wanting to be the focus of his apparent anger, but the guards held fast in silence, some standing at attention in difference to Morenth's authority. With Pythoes' death most of the guard recognized him as their defacto leader, despite being outside their command structure.

"I... suppose that would be me, my lord," a nervous looking older guard said, glancing around at his fellows as if waiting for someone to disagree. When they didn't he scratched his balding head and wiped away the sweat beading on his brow. "...Or so it would seem."

Morenth cocked an eyebrow at his skittish display. "So what is the issue here, guardsman?"

"My lord, the gate captain says they cannot open the gate for so many refugees. He says there isn't enough room in the slums to hold us."

The gate captain took a step forward. He had the pompous look of someone who thought his position was indisputable. "That would be the situation, sirrah."

"Then it's a good thing they won't be put in the slums," Morenth said matter-of-factly. "These good people are under the jurisdiction of the church and will be treated as such. Any excess the church cannot house will be taken care of by the Archduke himself."

"Sirrah, I don't know what title of nobility you hold, but one does not simply demand favors of Lord Daius." The air of superiority in his voice was beginning to rub Morenth the wrong way.

"He will make an exception," the paladin intoned harshly, handing a scroll to the gate captain.

It only took a moment of skimming the contents of the scroll for the captain to lose the smug look he'd been wearing.

several minutes of groveling and apologizing later found the caravan moving under the massive arches of Kaldoon's gates unhindered.

"Take the main road until you come to the city square in the Merchant's District," Morenth instructed to the lead wagon's driver, "From there take the road following the coast until you find the church. They should have enough food and beds for most of you, and I'll be heading to the Sea Spire to negotiate for the rest and any indulgence the Archduke will provide to get your lives back on track."

The driver bowed in his seat, sweeping his straw hat across his chest. "I will, my lord, and thank you for lookin' after us like you have."

"Please, this is the least I could do."

"And I likely owe all of you a debt I can never hope to repay."

Looking past Morenth, the driver tipped his hat to Twilight as he placed it back on his head. "And thank you as well, Lady Twilight. You may not know it, but havin' you with us was like a beacon of hope for the faithful. It kept a great many of us from losin' spirit."

Twilight's face was aflame as she hastily returned the gesture with a bow of her own. "Oh no, it was nothing, really! I just hope you all can recover some portion of your livelihood soon."

"Aye, and when we do, know that you will always be welcome. You're practically one of our own, my lady." With that the driver snapped his reigns, starting his teffla down the road Morenth had shown him. The rest of the wagons followed suit, and soon the whole caravan was on the move.

Beside the paladin, Twilight donned an inquisitive expression. "What could have possibly been in that scroll to change the captain's mind about the refugees? Did it say you were a paladin of the Church?"

"No," Morenth answered, turning his gaze to the Sea Spire in the distance. "It was a writ from the hand of the Archduke, naming myself as his Adjunct. It gives my voice the same weight as his in all matters domestic."

"How'd you get something like that?"

The paladin sighed and set an easy pace toward the red keep. "It's a long story..."

Up above the noise of the greatest port city known to man, in the tallest tower of the sea spire, a young man poured over endless sheefs of parchment seeking his signature.

The sleeves of his crimson robes were rolled back over his elbows to prevent ink stains from ruining his attire, and his usually unruly auburn hair was pulled back into a short ponytail to keep strands from finding their way into his unnaturally colored eyes.

He was putting the last of his alterations to a new transport tariff when a light rap on his chamber doors interrupted his focused thoughts.

With a gentle sigh, he favored the offending door with an agitated glare. "Yes? Why am I being disturbed in my private study?"

"I apologize, Your Eminence," came the reply from beyond the closed door. The young man recognized the disciplined voice of his personal aid immediately. "But there's been an incident at the southern gate."

"By 'incident' you'd best mean we're being invaded if your standing outside my door with something better reported to the Knight Commander."

There was a uncharacteristic pause that didn't fit with the man's aid at all, and for a moment he dearly hoped that what he'd jokingly referred to was not the case.

"...Well, not exactly, my lord. It seems that a large group of refugees was allowed entry into the city." Something in his voice suggested there was more to the story than that.

"If I remember correctly, the slums are in no condition to house any more occupants without risk of spreading disease."

"Yes, that is correct, but it seems a man claiming to be your Adjunct was with them. He also carried official documents proving such, that is, if the report from gate captain Wilhelm is to be believed."

Setting his quill back in its ornate ink well, Daius moved over to his favorite sitting chair situated next to a large window overlooking the bustling ports of his beloved city. With precise control unbefitting the task, the Archduke set himself snuggly back into the armchair, leaning forward and cupping his chin in his palm.

He only glanced at his door passingly, his thoughts elsewhere. "If that's all, then return to your duties, and hold off on brunch. I'll be indisposed for a while yet."

"Very good, sire," came the dutiful response.

Daius listened to the footsteps of his aid become distant as a weary grin began to form on his face.

"Seven years without a word and he just barges in with the very writ I asked him to keep discreet." The Archduke started tapping his cheek idly with a finger. "Morenth... we will have words."

Slight of Hand

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“In another moment down went Alice after it, never once considering how in the world she was to get out again.”

-Lewis Carroll, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland

The last thing Azalie wanted to do was talk to her father. Most days that would have been different, but then, today wasn't like most days.

Her father, Davos Bestandeel, was a master of his craft not because he was the most powerful of mages, but because he possessed the one trait that made the difference between good enchanters and great enchanters. Above all else, her father was a patient man. But even her father had his share of sensitive subjects, and Azalie was particularly adept at finding them.

All it took was one mere utterance of her secret studies into the dark artes to send her father into an uproar about corruption and taint-not that Azalie had told him she was actually studying black magic. She'd only asked why its research was banned despite the obvious gain mankind could reap from such studies.

"Urgh! It was just hypothetical anyway!" the mage fumed to the empty alleyway, her frustration bubbling over as she relived the argument in her memories. "Well, as far as he knew..."

And now Grey, that slippery bastard, wanted her to essentially steal one of her father's most prized possessions. A journal he'd been keeping since he was her age. It went without saying the journal was more of a large tome at this point and contained his private thoughts and narratives on his greatest discoveries and studies. What Grey could possibly want with it was beyond her, but then, most of the peddler's motivations seemed to be.

Azalie fumed until her frustration fizzled out with a resigned sigh, and without ceremony let the matter slide as she made the still crowded main streets, stowing her troubles away from the prying eyes of strangers.

The shiftless masses showed no outward signs of distress, going about their daily errands with the same monotonous motions as ever. But there was a tenseness in the air, one that set Azalie on edge. Just hearing Grey confirm the rumors she'd heard filled her with a nervousness that saw her to the gates of the Academy in record time.

Despite her haste, she couldn't help but find a sense of comfort in being nearly home.

Built by the founders of the Circle of Sagecraft, the Academy was a marvel of architecture given life by magic. Its many wings formed an immense pentagram with looming black towers at connecting junctures.

As the oldest building in the city, one could say Midrassis had grown to its current prominence due to the Academy's influence, and Azalie could feel great power hiding within its walls; power yet untapped and just waiting for an ambitious mage to find it. Just one more item on her 'to do' list. But for now, her new 'friends' would have to take priority over ambiguous mysteries beyond her current reach.

The real question at the fore was how to handle the colorful creatures beyond the current situation. At the moment only a tenuous agreement kept them from gallivanting across Soulis to gods know where in search of this 'Twilight', who could be half way across the continent for all they knew. What she needed was time. Time enough to study these ponies and their ways before filing the discovery of the three new races and, by default, securing her place in history.

Before that could happen though, she needed to keep others from stealing them away from her by fulfilling her obligation to Grey. The thought of becoming the peddlers lackey made her feel like vomiting, but in the end, it would all be worth it. At least, she hoped it would.

Azalie was so lost in her own thoughts that she didn't even register a fully outfitted Archon standing in her path until she ran straight into him.

"Ow! Hey, watch where you're going!" Azalie growled, in too much of a sour mood to admit the collision was likely her fault, at least until she realized who she was being rude to. "Oh! I'm terribly sorry. I didn't see you there, sir."

Garbed in a battle robe of banded steel plates the war mage stared at her impassively for a moment before replying in an even tone. "An easy feat when starring at the ground so intently, Miss Bestandeel."

As much as Azalie loved for her reputation to preceded her, she couldn't help but feel slightly disturbed at being recognized by someone she'd never met.

"Yeah, my apologies, but I'm in a hurry, so if you could just let me pass-"

"I'm afraid I cannot let you go at the moment," the Archon interrupted with a firm tone that brooked no argument. "The Headmaster is in a private council within the Hall of Communing, and I am to let no one enter until his meeting is over."

"Is that so...?" Azalie said absently with a knowing smile, adding mentally, 'And just after an emergency guild masters meeting. Just who could the old man be talking to in there?'

The Archon's lips twitched into a frown momentarily before reverting back to his mask of ambivalence. "Indeed."

"Well, that's certainly a worthy task for an Archon of such... uh, grand stature!" Azalie laughed nervously at the irritated look that came to his face, and began to make a mental list of her options. She could either take a detour and loose a little time, or she could sneak into the Hall of Communing and maybe hear something she wasn't suppose to.

She didn't even think twice.

"So, I'll just leave you to it then." With a mock salute Azalie turned on her heel and made her way back down the curved hallway.

When she was out of sight she ducked behind one of the many pillar supported archways lining the hallway and began digging through her pockets. After a few seconds of rummaging she produced a simple silver chain attached to a small sapphire pendant inscribed with spell sigils of her own design.

With a cautious glance around to insure she was alone Azalie began a low chant under her breath. The words themselves were gibberish. Just none-sense rhymes to focus her thoughts on the coming ritual.

She chanted for all of a minute until even her voice faded from her thoughts, only to be replaced by an increasingly complex series of geometric shapes and glyphs. If one could look into her mind, they would find the shapes matched those engraved on her pendant, only laid over each other into one complete pattern.

They were the fruit of her studies into a hybrid school of both thaumaturgy and artifacing, using both static and fluid spellcraft to create a stronger overall spell weave. She could have written an entire thesis on its potential applications but found the edge it gave her over her peers too enticing to give up. At least, not until she mastered its uses and cut down the ritual time it took to actually cast a spell.

When she was certain the sigils were perfect Azalie released her mental hold on the image and began feeding it with her will.

The change in the air around her was immediately noticeable. Sounds became dull to the point where she could barely even hear herself breathing, and for an instant the world shimmered before becoming a dull mix of greys, devoid of color in the eyes of her magically altered senses.

Then the nausea came.

"By the gods, I'll never get used to this," Azalie tried to say, but no sound came from her lips.

Her enchantment pulled the wearer's physical body half way between the material realm and what lay beyond. The Void wasn't a plane one could normally survive, but as long as her amulet stayed firmly around her neck its effects would only be limited to a sense of vertigo and slight forgetfulness... At least, in theory.

She didn't, however, predict how cold it would make her feel. A shiver ran down her spine but was quickly suppressed as she focused on her goal, fighting against the fog that descended over her mind.

Slowly, and with great care, she made her way back to the Hall of Communing, careful not to look away from the ground at her feet for fear of vomiting. Not even her amulet would be able to conceal that.

It didn't take her long to reach the wide arches of her destination and soundlessly sidestep around the Archon standing guard, who she made a few obscene gestures at before slipping through.

A familiar jolt of excitement coursed through her as she passed the threshold. It always did when she was doing something she wasn't suppose to.

Rebellion, she thought, was always a welcome change of pace.

Meanwhile, in Grey's store, Rarity was in the middle of a crisis.

"Just what could you possibly be thinking, putting these ragged things in your house?!" She cried, referring to the ghastly set of worn curtains adorning the only window of Grey's second story office.

Rarity didn't know what to think about humans. According to Princess Celestia they could be friendly or dangerious depending on the individual, and Discord's assertion that they were one of the most chaotic creatures he'd ever witnessed seemed to substantiate the statement. But from what she'd seen of their sense of decorum she did know they were in desperate need of her expertise, and being the generous soul she was, quickly set about doing what she could for Grey's rundown office.

A pair of lounging chairs and even a couch floated through the air as she manipulated a broom and dust pan, sweeping up large piles of dust that had accumulated under the furniture. Rarity felt her horn strain as she tried to lift the desk as well. She found the reason for the added weight glaring at her over a pair of thin rimed glasses with his hands planted firmly on the desk.

"Miss Rarity?" Grey asked, visibly fighting against rising frustration, "I'm kind of busy here, and while I'm grateful for your efforts, please stop."

"Whatever for, dear? This place is absolutely filthy." She blew a puff of dust up from the table to prove her point, causing Grey to wave the floating cloud out of his face. "What are you busy with anyway? If you don't mind of course."

"Figuring how much profit I could make from selling you and your friends, so stop pestering me," he said with forced smile, but Rarity saw through the bluff. She owned a business of her own after all, and if she had to guess, he was balancing his checkbook. A task that could make even the most patient pony an angry mess of frustration, so she forgave him his temper.

When Grey saw how she didn't react to his threat, he sighed in resignation and set his quill down. "Don't your friends need your help downstairs. They mentioned something about coming up with a plan, and I'm sure they could use your eye for detail."

Rarity huffed in response. "Very well, I'll leave you to your work, but the minute my friends and I finalize our plan I'll be back to fix this mess." As she made her way down the stairs she could hear him swear under his breath and return to writing.

In the living room her friends had occupied various spaces not meant for siting in response to the countless piles of curious objects piled up all over the floor.

"So how long we plannin' on stayin' here," Applejack asked from her spot on a stack of floor mats, "Ah know we agreed ta stay put until Azalie gets some idea about Twilight's whereabouts, but how long's that gonna take? She could be anywhere."

Rainbow Dash groaned loudly from her perch on a stack of books piled nearly to the ceiling. "And why are we waiting at all? Let's just get out there and find her ourselves!" She shot a look over at Discord and frowned. "Can't you just, you know, find out where she is with your powers or something?"

The draconequus rolled his eyes but didn't move so as not to jostle Fluttershy, who was using his tail as a makeshift futon. "Of course not, my colorful rube of a friend-"

"A what now?" Dash asked, thoroughly confused, but Discord kept going without missing a beat.

"-That would require more power than I currently possess."

Discords statement only confused Dash even further. "But... You're Discord! I thought you could do anything!"

"Au contraire, I can do almost anything... when I possess my full power, which is in Equestria. I guess the great and powerful Celestia didn't tell you about how balance is maintained in your home of rainbows and kitten smiles."

For the life of her Rarity couldn't remember a time when Opalescence smiled.

When nopony answered him, Discord shook his head with a wry smile. "I thought so. Then let me be the one to enlighten you, but first a question. What do you believe makes up existence?" This time he didn't wait for an answer. "It's balance. Light and dark. Good and evil. Earth and sky. Chaos and, blegh... order. It's the reason why every idea expressed by mortals has a polar opposite. It's also the reason I'm a little short in the power department."

Applejack shifted uncomfortably on her floor mats. "Uh, Ah'm not sure we follow ya."

"Ah'm sure ya don't." Discord joked, mimicking her accent and earning himself a look from Fluttershy that said, 'be nice'. "It means that, for the time being, you shouldn't rely on old Discord to pull your flanks out of the fire."

"But that means finding Twilight's gonna take like forever!" Rainbow Dash complained.

In response Discord flashed a knowing smirk. "Not necessarily, my lovable philistine." Again, Dash wasn't quite sure if she'd just been insulted or not. "I believe a few of my old, uh... what do you call those again?"

"Acquaintance?" Fluttershy suggested hopefully.

"Frienemies! That's it-frienemies. They're so much more interesting than plain old acquaintances, because you never really know where they stand. Anyway, as I was saying, there are a few angles I could work, if you'll allow me."

Curious about his proposal, Rarity spoke up. "And why would we need to allow it? You've never deemed to ask us for permission to do anything before."

"Oh it's nothing really. Just a minor stipulation to my conditional freedom," Discord said with a hint of sarcasm. When the surrounding ponies remained silent in anticipation, he groaned in exasperation and began to explain. "I am bound by means of magical contract to not take direct action in this world unless given permission by my 'guardian'."

He turned his head around to look at Fluttershy. "Well? Will you allow it?"

Fluttershy squeaked at the sudden incredulous stares aimed at her from around the room. "Yes, p-please do. That is, if you don't mind," she whispered almost too quietly for the rest to hear.

"Excellent! Ta-ta then."

With a snap of his claw Discord was gone, replaced by a comfy looking couch for Fluttershy, who flinched as he vanished out from under her.

After a few seconds of silence, Rarity noticed something very off about the unnatural pause. "I'm sorry if this is a bit off topic girls, but... where is Pinkie?"

Immediately after the words left her mouth a loud crash issued from down the hall.

"That better have not been anything expensive!" Grey shouted from upstairs, "Unless Azalie's picking up the tab, if so then please make sure it's expensive!"

Rarity cringed at the thought of having to tell their only friend in the city that she was going to have to pay for damages after doing them the kindness of finding them shelter. She looked around to find similar expressions on her friend's faces.

"I'll go check on her. Just to make sure she doesn't cause our benefactor too much trouble," she said with a nervous laugh. "Continue the planning without me. I'll be just a minute."

Moving into the narrow hallway that ran the center of the building's first floor, Rarity felt something was terribly off, but she couldn't quite put her hoof on it. It was something that should've been obvious, but the more she focused on it the more vague the feeling of wrongness got.

It wasn't until she was rounding the doorway into the storefront that it finally hit her. Where was the rest of the noise? Pinkie Pie was never this quiet, and certainly wouldn't have become suddenly silent after breaking something. No shouted apologies, or even an exclamation of surprise.

If Rarity had been paying attention to her surroundings instead of thinking over the weird vibes she was getting, she might have noticed the storefront candles had been extinguished, leaving the room eerily dark in the waning hours of the day.

"Pinkie dear?" she called out shakily as the creepiness of the situation began to set in. "You can come out now... We need you to make plans for the, uh, homecoming party after we return to Equestria."

A voice that sounded like Pinkie's made muffled noises of excitement from somewhere in the darkness, but still there was no movement. Rarity took a step back only to bump into something that wasn't there a moment ago.

In an instant the darkness became absolute as a bag was forced down over her head, the draw strings sinching tight as she attempted to scream for the others just down the hall.

Memoirs and Memories

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"The measure of a man is what he does with power."

-Plato

"This way my lord and... lady," the castle servant ventured with some hesitance, likely worried about offending his master's guests by using improper titles. He was probably still reeling from his first meeting with a flesh and blood unicorn. Morenth, however, didn't care in the slightest for titles and let the matter drop. "The Archduke will receive you in his personal study. He apologizes for the unprofessional setting and hopes that you will forgive him if he continues his work during your audience."

"Oh, that's fine. I'm sure he's a very busy man," Twilight chimed in before Morenth could answer. "I'm just glad to be seeing him so soon. It's usually really hard to get an audience with the ruler of a country."

The paladin reasoned Twilight had a greater understanding of courtly proceedings than he would have guessed when they first met. Being the personal student of a her people's ruler probably granted her a unique position to observe the inner workings of stately matters and politics.

They walked at a brisk pace down the marble hallways adjacent to the throne room, their steps muffled by a plush red carpet with delicate gold embroidery that spanned the length of the long passageway. The ceiling above them soared to an impressive height and boasted countless candelabras to provide light. There were no visible windows on the lower levels, but Morenth assumed the architect had simply taken the spire's defenses into account when designing them. In the event of a siege the lower levels would be subjected to catapult and ballista fire, and windows would only become a structural liability.

Servants could be seen regularly, tending to the everyday maintenance of such a large keep. But as they made their way to the northern wing servants became fewer in number, thinning to the point of non-existence by the time they'd made it to the spiral staircase at the base of the north tower.

The servant leading them noticed Morenth's passing interest and guessed his thoughts. "His Eminence doesn't like to be disturbed in his study."

"As you say," the paladin said dismissively, not liking his thoughts read so easily.

As they ascended the spiral stairs Morenth noticed Twilight began to fall behind, her steps becoming more reluctant the higher they went.

Slowing down to match her pace, Morenth leaned over and whispered into her ear. "Are you well?"

Her horn lit up in response.

"I'm just a little nervous... What's the Archduke like? You mentioned before that you knew each other."

Morenth glanced at the servant leading them, making sure their conversation went unnoticed. It wasn't as if what they spoke of was any great secret, but the silence of the tower seemed almost sacred. Even the servant's footsteps appeared to lose their sound as they made their way higher.

"You have nothing to be worried about. Daius may be of noble blood, but he is blessed with a level head and a good heart. In fact, he may join us in our search if it piques his interest. You may find he is possessed of a curiosity that rivals your own."

This seemed to mollify her as she settled into a more steady pace, looking more thoughtful than nervous.

A minute passed before he heard her voice in his head again. "Are there any rules of decorum specific to humans I should know about before we meet him?"

Morenth thought for a moment before answering. "We're meeting in his study so there shouldn't be any pomp or ceremony to worry about. Just let me introduce you before you talk his ear off."

Twilight gave Morenth an offended look but saw him holding back a grin at her expense. She rolled her eyes dismissively and pointedly ignored him until they found themselves in front of a massive set of double doors made of darkly stained wood. The servant who had been leading them stood off to the side, awaiting their presence before opening the door to the Archduke's study.

"Sire," he called out, "Your guests have arrived."

Morenth strode through the threshold only to stop a moment later after realizing Twilight was still standing in the hallway, her eyes locked wide as she peered through the doorway.

"Twilight?" he asked, concerned by her sudden case of paralysis.

"Look..." she began, trailing off before a wide smile took the place of her gaping, "Look at all the books! So many novels I haven't even seen before, let alone read!" At this point she was literally bouncing with joy, and Morenth didn't know whether to be happy for her, or be worried at how she resembled an addict who'd discovered a mountain of her favored drug. "It's like walking into the Canterlot library for the first time all over again!"

The collection of tomes held within the study was indeed large; larger than the paladin could have expected given that the room was called a 'study'. Every inch of wall space in the open air, three story parlor was dedicated to bookshelves. There were even extra shelving units taking up floor space on either side of the room's center, forming separate aisles for browsing. But if it was enough to warrant the kind of reaction Morenth was witnessing, he wondered just what Twilight would do when she saw the Archives of the Scholia Libraryium.

Behind a large maple desk at the end of the center aisle sat a young man writing franticly on a piece of parchment. His auburn hair was wild, and his robes were in disarray from a long night's work, but Morenth recognized him immediately.

"The robes of office suit you, Your Eminence," Morenth said with the hint of a smile, and though he'd meant to say it under his breath, the paladin's voice carried through the empty parlor, causing the young man to look up from his work.

The Archduke's mouth quirked into a smile as he saw his guests. His eyes, an unnatural shade of amber, took in the sight of them, though his gaze lingered longest on Twilight. Taking a moment to dip his quill in a nearby inkwell, he blew a slow breath through pursed lips over his work and began rolling it neatly to be set aside. Finally, he spoke.

"Paladin Morenth! To what do I owe the honor of your presence after so many long years?" he asked, the very picture of formality, if one ignored the playfully mocking tone in his question, "Off on some epic quest no doubt, seeing as you've returned with a rather interesting companion... and dressed in rags no less."

Morenth tried to ignore his road worn appearance. He was well aware how it must look to visit the Archduke of all people in such a state. "I apologize for my choice of clothes, but I am fresh from the road." With a slight bow the paladin motioned to Twilight, who was waiting patiently for her chance to speak. "This is Twilight Sparkle, a unicorn mage from Equestria, and the primary reason for my visit. She seeks admittance into the Scholia Libraryium."

Twilight took her queue and gave a bow of her own. "It's an honor to meet you, Your Eminence. It's as Morenth says. I need access to the resources in the Archives in order to find a way to send myself home."

If the forwardness of Twilight's request bothered the Archduke, he didn't show it. In fact, his grin only grew wider.

"She speaks..." he commented without surprise, but his eyes reflected a hungry curiosity, "If access to the Archives is what you seek, then this meeting is an unnecessary but fortunate happening. It would give me great pleasure, however, if you would speak in a less formal manner. Academic talks are not the propriety of politics after all."

"Unnecessary?"

"Of course. If Morenth had taken the time to visit he would be aware that the Scholia Librarium is now open to the public. My father's restrictions were lifted years ago."

The revelation took Morenth by surprise. "So you've realized your dream? That didn't take long. What about the Assembly's hardliners? I thought they would rather die than give up their exclusive control of magical learning."

Something flashed behind the Archduke's eyes. Remorse?

"And some were true to their word..." He trailed off for a moment, but quickly regained his composure. "Though I despised my father, some of his old contacts were more than willing to help the new Archduke... for a price."

"But enough about politics, I have a few questions," Daius said firmly, his gaze fixed on Twilight. "Would you care to elaborate why you require arcane knowledge to return 'home'? I assume it is because you can not simply go back through conventional means."

Twilight looked uncomfortable for a moment, but straightened as she returned the Archduke's gaze. "I came to be in Soulis after traveling through what you humans call 'The Void'. Morenth described it as the space between planes of existence, and that leads us to believe I wasn't just transported to a far away land but to another world entirely. The Alu'thaide also mentioned something similar."

Daius had looked surprised when she revealed her journey through The Void, but at the mention of the Alu'thaide he went stock still, his now intense eyes boring holes into the lavender unicorn.

"You've met The Watcher?" His voice was little more than a whisper.

Morenth cocked an eyebrow. "You know of this elf pretender?"

The Archduke continued in hushed tones, as if he were afraid someone was listening. "I know precious little, and that's more than most can claim. The Alu'thaide is a being seldom mentioned in the annuls of history, but the few times he's had recorded contact with mortals has been just before great disasters and conflicts. The elves worship him even though he is not among their pantheon of gods, and always out of fear. According to them he is the herald of upheaval and calamity."

And Morenth had allowed such a being so close to his charge? the mere thought was enough to make him sick with self loathing.

"No matter the enemies you face or the trials you endure, know this; if you fail in your vigilance, or you forsake your charge, the tithe on her blood will be paid by all."

The Alu'thaide's words of warning echoed through his mind and the paladin found himself looking at Twilight with concern. If the Alu'thaide was a herald of calamity, what did he want with Twilight? Was he using her to some unknown purpose? Suddenly the prospect of following up on any leads he'd given them was less than appealing.

Despite the darkening mood of the conversation, Twilight pressed on. "During our discussion with the Alu'thaide, he mentioned a text that may give me a hint about getting home. That's the reason we need the Archives."

"And for this you traveled all the way to Kaldoon with a group of refugees?" The Archduke didn't sound suspicious, but his tone suggested he knew there was more to the story than they were telling him.

"That," Morenth answered, "Is the second reason for our visit." He paused to allow his words the proper weight. "Hollodrum has fallen... lost to a horde of undead. Those refugees are what's left of it's people."

Daius recoiled as if struck. "What?! How?"

"I have my suspicions, but no evidence to support them as of yet." Morenth shifted uncomfortably, still unsure of what part he played in the attack. "They came in force from the east, and they were lead by a Dremorath of all things."

"You were there." It wasn't a question. The Archduke curled his hand into a fist in an attempt to keep himself calm. "How long do you think we have?"

The paladin was relieved to at least have some good news for his old acquaintance on that front. "Kaldoon itself is in little danger of an attack due to the Grey Flats, but the threat is very real for any nations further south. The free city of Midrassis is the most likely target if the hoard begins to move. We should send a warning by way of courier pigeon just as a precaution. I can also have the Order's forces begin preparations to muster there if necessary."

"The courier pigeon will be unnecessary," Daius replied with a dismissive wave of his hand. "I have more efficient means of communicating with the Academy. They can relay the message to the Guild Council within the day."

Morenth breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Your Eminence. I will consult with the Deacon on sending our forces south in hopes of intercepting the horde before it reaches any settlements."

"Please do. And worry not for the refugees, any aid I can offer will be given freely."

Morenth nodded in appreciation, making a mental note to check with the local church officials about requisitioning rooms and supplies as well.

"Sire..." their escort interrupted with a gesture the Archduke seemed to understand.

With a tired sigh Daius picked up his quill, dipping the tip into a nearby ink well, and looked at them with an apologetic smile. "Though it pains me to say, our meeting is to be cut short. I'll contact the Academy this afternoon and send you a message detailing their planned response. I assume you'll be staying at the temple proper?"

"Yes, and thank you again for your assistance in this matter," Morenth replied, knowing a dismissal when he heard one. He turned to leave when Daius spoke again.

"Oh, and Twilight, I would be most delighted to discuss the details of your research when I have more free time."

"Of course!" Twilight replied cheerily, before hastily adding, "-Your Eminence." She blushed at her breach in protocol. "I would welcome all the help I can get."

Daius just smiled warmly and returned to his work, leaving his servant to show them out.

"You were right," Twilight said once they were past the outer gates and on their own again, "That went a lot smoother than I thought it would."

"I told you there was nothing to worry about," the paladin replied with a helpless shrug.

The lavender mare giggled and looked out over the coastal city, there vantage from the keep's bridge giving an almost complete view of its vast network of multi-leveled districts.

"So," she said with a smile that showed her renewed confidence, "Where to next? The Archives, maybe?"

She may have thought the offhand nature of her question would disguise her intent, but the hopeful gleam in her eyes betrayed her lack of patience.

"Before that, we should visit the church and see to it we have quarters made ready for us." Morenth looked down at himself for a moment and could practically feel the stench rising off of him. "And maybe a bath... and a change of clothes too..."

"Fine..." Her disappointment was palpable. "But we have to go sometime later today."

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of keeping you in such a state of anticipation," the paladin replied with a rare smile.

By the time they rounded the first corner on their way to the residental district there were already countless eyes following them, or more specifically Twilight. So many in fact that neither of them noticed the piercing stare of a lone, pale woman driving a wagon with a cloak wrapped tightly around her form. Unlike the curious and disbelieving glances of the crowded streets, hers was filled with hate and a terrible will.

'I'll never get used to this,' Twilight thought to herself as she shied away from the unwanted attention of almost every person she passed. Like Hollodrum, several even got on their knees and prayed. At least they weren't crowding around her, mostly due to the fact that Morenth was walking with her. Somehow, even though his expression remained the same, when one of the crowd got too close, a single look from him sent them scurrying back.

"We may want to consider traveling at night to avoid the crowds," he suggested quietly, his eyes scanning the townspeople gathering around them. "When word starts to spread it will be almost impossible to move around during the day."

Twilight cringed at the thought of having to deal with crowds of people treating her like some sort of goddess everyday. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that..."

To keep her mind off the growing crowd of spectators she focused her thoughts on the city itself.

Built into the sea cliffs themselves, Kaldoon's architecture was predominantly white as the shale it was carved from, but instead of being colorless there appeared to be a cultural tradition of decorating buildings with colorful silk ribbons and flags. They hung from window sills, roof tops, even from clothes lines strung between houses, and danced unceasingly on the coastal breeze.

The curious thing though, was the shape of the city itself. Terraces carved from the cliffs of the cuspate formed multiple levels of sprawling districts into a what looked like a tilted bowl. The levels were connected by regular intervals of carved stairs and wide ramps for carriage traffic. Combined with the impressive Sea Spire standing sentinel across the bay, it was a marvel of engineering in both form and function.

As they traveled into the higher levels of the city Twilight found her respect for the Archduke growing, and conversely, her curiosity as well.

"You know, Morenth," she said after a while of trotting in silence, "You never did explain how you knew the Archduke."

Her companion looked back at her like she'd just snapped him out of some deep thought.

"He and I have a somewhat complicated history," he answered with a slight wince, seeming to consider what to tell her before he continued, "Several years back he asked me for a rather unorthodox favor. One he still feels he owes me for, if I read him correctly during our meeting. Nevertheless, It's not something I should discuss in public, so please be patient until we have a bit more privacy."

Sighing, Twilight chose not to push the issue. She knew that Morenth was more than willing to humor her curiosity but also noticed he would avoid questions about himself and his past. It didn't bother her that he kept a few secrets, but it did concern her that he would always do so with such a painful look in his eyes.

Pushing past the throng of townspeople, a large complex of walled off buildings came into view. At their center stood a beautiful cathedral with an immense stained glass mosaic. To say that what the colored glass depicted surprised her would have been an understatement. It painted a picture of a delicately slender, white unicorn, its face looking gracefully toward the sky.

"What in Celestia's name...?" Twilight couldn't find the words to complete her question as she stared blankly at the familiar features of her own race.

It took a few moments to hear Morenth's voice as he tried to get her attention. "Twilight? Twilight, what's wrong?"

Her voice came back amid the confusion whirling around in her head. "What is- why is there a depiction of a unicorn in a place like this!?"

"What do you mean, 'why'?" Her companion looked as bewildered as she was, until a spark of understanding flashed across his features. "Oh! By the Goddess, I've been a fool! Since you hadn't asked about it, I didn't even bother explaining why everyone has been reacting to you as they have."

Twilight barely registered what he had said, her thoughts already racing to the only conclusion to be drawn from a portrayal of a unicorn placed in such a central point in a place of worship.

"I... I think I need to lay down..."

Word from Abroad

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"Sometimes, only one person is missing, and the whole world seems depopulated."

-Alphonse de Lamartine

Azalie's palms were breaking into a cold sweat by the time she settled herself behind one of the main chambers central pillars. She desperately wanted to take off the amulet fueling the spell that held her in a state of constant nausea, but the risk of detection was too high. The Headmaster of the Circle of Sagecraft was not someone she wanted to test, even if the shadows being cast by the aquamarine light of the Communing Pool were deep enough to hide in.

The Headmaster stood hunched over the glowing waters in the midst of spell casting, his rhythmic chants a deep, calming baritone.

It didn't take long for the uniform blue light to become a rainbow of colors as the water of the pool projected images from possibly thousands of leagues away. The silence quickly melted away as a youthful voice filled the room.

"I see you got my message," the voice began with what could have been a hint of a smile.

"I have," the Headmaster's own aged voice answered back, not nearly as cheerful, "There had better be a good reason for sending your little pet into my Academy. You scared Parvil half to death."

The voice gave a thin chuckle before continuing. "Your aid will have to have thicker skin than that if he wants to keep performing his duties. The Circle isn't known for its mundane or boring atmosphere after all. And besides, an apprentice should be practiced in dealing with a familiar by that age."

The old Headmaster huffed indignantly, possibly annoyed that his apprentice's experience was being called into question. "Not many mages would keep such a monster as a familiar in the first place. I'm surprised it hasn't peeled the skin from your bones yet."

"Not for lack of trying..." the voice replied quietly. "Though I didn't call you to discuss my taste in familiars. I've come across some rather disturbing information recently."

Taking the silence from the Headmaster as an urge to continue, the voice went on. "You know of the bloody struggle between my father and I, of course."

"Yes, I was kept appraised of the situation by a local branch of the Circle. Nasty business for a child to be involved in, but I hope you'll get to the point quickly. I have other pressing matters to attend."

Unconsciously, Azalie crept out from behind her hiding place, trying to get a closer vantage point to see the identity of the man on the other end of the spell. A part of her may have warned her that it was dangerous and stupid, but a conversation between one of the most powerful mages alive and his mysterious acquaintance was so cloak-and-dagger she couldn't help being both excited and curious.

"A friend who helped me during those dark days paid me a visit today, and he kept the most unusual company..." the voice continued, drawing a long suffering sigh from the Headmaster.

Leaning more heavily on his oak staff, the elder mage grumbled, "Did you really call me here to discuss a reunion with a long lost acquaintance, your Eminence?" The last part was said with thinly veiled sarcasm.

Azalie drew in a sharp breath as she pieced together who was on the other side of the communing spell. Only one nation she knew of gave their ruler such a title.

The Archduke of Kaldoon sighed heavily. "Your patience is appreciated, Headmaster. My friend's name is Morenth, Paladin of the Most Holy. He brought dire news from the east. Holodum has been sacked by a horde of undead under the control of a dremorath. He suspects the next target will most likely be-"

"-Midrassis!" the Headmaster concluded. "I was recently in attendance of an emergency guildmasters' meeting. The merchant guilds are in an uproar about the lack of contact with the villages in the north. The caravans they sent haven't reported back either." A very audible creaking sound echoed throughout the hall as the wood of the Headmaster's staff strained under his grip. "You don't think-!"

"No." The Archduke's reply held no uncertainty. "The dremorath was slain by Morenth, but that gives raise to an even worse possibility. After all, without direction lesser undead are little more than mindless beasts. If there hasn't been any word whatsoever from your northern border, I suspect the daemon was no more than a servant to a higher power."

"A troubling possibility indeed. Perhaps a coven of necromancers, or even a lich?"

A creeping silence overtook the hall, causing the hair on the back of Azalie's neck to stand on end.

"I... would not presume to give advice on such a serious matter without all the facts..." came the Archduke's uncertain reply, his voice betraying an unease that was not present at the start of the conversation. "But..."

The pause that followed lasted long enough for Azalie to notice, even through the almost debilitating nausea of her spell, that her feet had gone numb. She'd never kept the pendent active for so long before, and it made her worry of any other possible side effects that would come from overuse if she lingered for much longer.

"I feel... nervous. Like there's this prickling sensation in the back of my mind I just can't quite grasp at," the Archduke finally said, his every word cold and hollow as the crypts of Ultan Thiag. "Something foul stirs in the Bloodwood... Be vigilant."

'What in the Long Night was that all about?!' Azalie thought frantically as she tore through a throng of initiates, who panicked as they tried to make way for their senior. She hardly paid them any mind as she went over the startling revelation she'd just overheard. 'If this got out there would be panic, riots, looting! Just what have I gotten myself into?!'

Her frustration mounted on top of rising panic as she brought her thoughts back to her original purpose; Stealing from her father.

'And my damned feet are still numb!'

Despite her chaotic thoughts, she made a mental note to go over her research twice before utilizing an experimental magical device that pulled the wearer between planes of existence.

After passing the main hall the crowds began to thin, and the constant bustle became whispers as Azalie made her way through the northern wing. Its halls were not like the others at the Academy in that it was home to the artificers, a quiet lot, who dedicated most of their time to perfecting spell permanence instead of practicing evocation or creating volatile alchemical substances. A part of Azalie loved the silent, steady progress the atmosphere represented. It was the bedrock in her otherwise hectic lifestyle. The other part of her, however, recognized that she would go insane if she became apart of it.

By the time Azalie finished promising herself she would never end up a shut-in professor trying to ascertain the magical composition of rocks, she found herself standing uncertainly outside a familiar door labeled "Magical Artifacts Reliquary - Master Artificer Bestandeel, Journeyor Enchanter Bestandeel". The difference in titles on the plague had been a something of a sore spot between her and her father. He had been quite disappointed she hadn't followed in his footsteps into the field of artificing, and there had been talk that Azalie had chosen her primary education in enchanting as a way of rebelling against him. Honestly, she just liked the close relation enchanting shared to the fundamentals of static spell casting while still giving a fair perspective on the more fluid forms of magic, like evocation. Artificing required more patience than she possessed since the process included crafting an item from scratch through a means not to distantly related to alchemy. While a more reliable method of creating a magical item, it was very involved.

The series of rooms beyond the door, while a repository for magical artifacts as the plaque advertised, also doubled as Azalie's and her father's living quarters. This was do in no small part to her father insisting they live together like a 'real' family. Normally, journeyor ranks and above were given individual living accommodations regardless of familial ties, but her father and the Headmaster were old friends, so a few strings were pulled at his request.

A nervousness settled in her gut as Azalie stared at the door, and she felt childish for it. It was like the feeling of impending punishment for sneaking extra dessert portions in the dining hall. Her father wasn't even inside. He would be giving lectures to the artificer initiates for a few hours still, and he was one to keep a very punctual schedule.

Pulling herself out of her paralysis, Azalie opened the door wide and proclaimed loudly, "Stars and stones, what a day I've had!"

A few moments passed as the mage listened for a response. When none came she felt a little embarrassed at her choice in tactics. Knowing her father, he would have immediately known she was up to something if he'd been there to answer her.

Without anymore delays, she stole into the main chamber, dodging around stacks of books and the larger artifacts littering the floor. The door to her father's quarters was no obstacle as he never locked it, and soon she stood awkwardly in front of his desk, her hand hovering over the cover of his journal; his thoughts and theories, exploits and discoveries, his entire life compressed between two leather bound covers. And as she stood there a sense of wrongness crept over her. It crawled over her until it calcified and settled in the base of her stomach like a block of ice.

But she'd already made the deal.

With great apprehension her hand settled on old leather.

"Stars and stones! What a day!" came her father's voice accompanied with the sound of the front door slamming shut.

Azalie started so abruptly she lost her footing and reached for the chair in front of the desk for stability, but only succeeded in dragging it down with her in a resounding crash. By the time she recovered her senses, her father was standing in the doorway with an wry, but unamused expression. He'd taken to wearing the musty brown robes of his office recently, despite (or maybe in spite of) her insistence that they made him look an old hermit. Then he noticed the journal in her lap and quirked an eyebrow.

"After being absent from my lecture I was under the impression you weren't in the mood for a old man's ramblings, but now I see you were just bored of hearing me speak," her father lamented, adopting an expression he often wore when he felt the need to be over-dramatic, "Oh, woe is me when mine own daughter doth tire so of her beloved father!" The proclamation came with the appropriate gestures and flourishes that would be more suited to a stage than his study.

Seeing this, Azalie felt a wave of relief rush through her. It seemed her father had recovered from their argument at breakfast, reverting back to his strange but unflappable self. It also provided an opportunity in the form of a perfect excuse to borrow her father's journal.

"Uh, yeah. That's exactly it-" She began, but saw the glimmer of real hurt peek through his actor's facade, "-What I mean is; I just don't have the time today. I've been working out a few... quirks in one of my fetishes, and thought I could get the cliff notes of your lecture from your journal. It was on your expedition to the ruins of Kal Duren, right?"

Her fake smile faltered slightly when her father adopted a pout.

"Val Siegran," he corrected with a sigh, then added sullenly, "It starts at the addendum on page three hundred and forty two."

"Thanks," Azalie replied, pausing when she realized she needed to say something to make him perk up or risk going the entire day feeling like monster, "I'm sure it'll be an exciting read!"

It didn't illicit the response she was hoping for, but the smile that came to his features wasn't forced, and she'd have to settle for that.

"I'd like to think so at least," he joked before noticing her attire. "So, where have you been all day?"

Azalie floundered, trying to come up with an excuse for missing his lecture while not sounding like the excuse she was going to use to go out again. "Uh...! Braziers?"

"Braziers?"

"Braziers," she replied with renewed confidence. "We were -uh- do for some new ones in the reliquary!"

Her father's deadpan stare hammered at her still fake smile as he proceeded to poke holes in her alibi. "Why didn't you just fill out a requisition with the staff?"

"Um..."

"Or tell me before the lecture started."

"Heh, funny you should-"

"You also knew we were supposed to get glowstones for lighting to replace the braziers the next chance we got."

"Well, that was a long time-"

"Is it a boy?"

"What?!"

"You heard me. Is it a boy?"

"No! Of course it's not a boy!"

"I want to meet him before any funny business."

"I- but, I don't- URGH!" Was Azalie's only possible reaction as she stormed out of the reliquary, forgetting to come up with an excuse to leave.

"Remember, no funny business!" Came her father's voice as it echoed down the hall, earning her several looks from her fellow mages that made her face heat up in embarrassment.

Grey was not a man given to complacency. Not only did he live among the dregs of society, he was also a thief, a swindler, and occasionally a con-artist. And while he was shrewd, if not honest, in most of his dealings, his success was monitored and in some cases despised by even his own clientele. This kept the inconspicuous peddler in a constant state of preparedness, and one of those preparations, a magically enchanted crystal cleverly modified to detect break-ins, was glowing a very conspicuous red color.

He had time to finish the frustrating process of filing away his still wet and incomplete ledger when a muffled sound like a dieing cat issued from the first floor.

Rising from his chair, he absently wondered why everyone's first reaction to a bag over the head was to scream at the top of their lungs. He supposed it did succeed in calling for help, but he liked to take a more active approach to self preservation. As such, he grabbed his jeweled encrusted rapier mounted on the wall behind his desk before deciding to test a new item an explorer had sold to him a week prior. The small leather rack of throwing knives seemed mundane enough to the untrained eye, but Grey didn't put a value on anything based on looks. And after all, when one owns a vast collection of magical artifacts, why not keep the best for yourself?

By the time Grey had lashed the rack to his belt the single muffled cry had descended into a cacophony of shouting, cursing, and crashing as his guests came to their companion's aid.

"Gods, what day is it again?" he grumbled to himself, lamenting the cost of repairs and broken magical trinkets and making a mental note to bill Azalie for all the damages to his shop a month from tomorrow.

"Gah! Rainbow, hold on! Just let meh finish with this varmint then Ah'm on meh way!"

No longer wasting any time, Grey stormed down the stairs to the first floor, stopping only to take stock to the situation unfolding quite violently in his storefront.

As far as he could tell, his rainbow colored guest had been the first to leap into action seeing as she already sported a nasty looking cut along her shoulder, just under her wing. One of the insolent thugs raiding his shop was either dead or unconscious to her right while she stared down another one armed with dirk and buckler. The orange pony with the peculiar hat was currently engaged in what Grey saw as one of the most awkward fist fights ever witnessed, since the raider was obviously trying to stick to a drilled hand-to-hand combat technique against an opponent half his size and on four legs, while she was attempting to buck a trained brawler who could back-step before her hooves could connect.

He couldn't see any of the others, and the frustration of damages on top of balancing his ledger was bringing him to the boiling point. And to top it off, Azalie was finally bringing him what he sorely needed to continue his research, and he doubted she would part with it when she arrived to discovered several of her precious "ponies" missing.

Instead of yelling or any outward displays of outrage, Grey focused his anger to a razor's edge, concentrating on the ugly task in front of him. With a flick of his wrist he sent a dagger whistling through the air and into the thug facing off against the rainbow colored one, piercing just below the collar bone in the shoulder pocket. The guttersnipe howled in pain giving the rainbow one the opening she needed to clock him over the head with one of Grey's previously unbroken chairs.

"Hah! How's that?!" the winged pony shouted, doing a few victory poses for good measure.

Seeing the last of his accomplices go down, the fist fighter threw a wild punch at the hat wearing pony, who easily ducked under it, and disengaged, making a hasty retreat for Grey's also broken front door.

The peddler's expression was one of carefully schooled neutrality as he almost casually let fly another dagger that sunk hilt deep in the meaty part of the fist-fighter's thigh, forcing him to the ground in a tumble of limbs and cursing agony.

Grey strolled over to the bereaved man and abruptly kicked him in the face with enough force to silence any complaints.

"Seriously though, what is today?" he asked himself, suddenly aware of how quiet his guests had become at his display. "What? Is something amiss?"

The pony with the strange hat looked a little green, but the rainbow colored one seemed to be shaking, and not with terror.

"That! Was! Awesome!" the rainbow colored one exclaimed, doing a few ill-advised loops in the air. Luckily, she didn't cause any more damage with her aerial antics. "We haven't even been here a day and we're already bustin' heads! Now we just gotta find some lost forgotten ruins and it'll be just like a Daring Do book!"

Grey was about to try calming her down when the hat wearing pony spoke up for him.

"Rainbow, stop actin' like a filly! Those varmints took the others, and we're goin' after 'em!"

Alarm bells were ringing in Grey's head as the aptly named pony landed and looked at her companion with cocky determination.

"Whoa-now, let's calm down and think for a second!" he interjected, causing them to stop in the act of pulling their cloaks over themselves. "Just how do you think you're going to find them? Pick a random direction and start running?"

Rainbow just looked at him like he was crazy. "You're joking right? There ain't a thing alive that can outrun me!" She flared her wings for emphasis.

The show of confidence only made him sigh in frustration. "It doesn't matter how fast you are. By now they're probably already using the sewer systems to enter the undercity." This caused even more agitation among the pair.

"So what? We just sit here while our friends are bein' foalnapped!?"

"Of course not," he replied, kicking the unconscious brawler next to him, "But why waste time looking at random when we can just ask where they're going to be? Just follow my lead kids, this isn't my first go around, so to speak."

Where he expected some kind of argument or at least a question or two, all he got was silence. Bringing his eyes to the two mares, he found them staring nervously behind him. At the same time, he became immediately aware of a prickling sensation on the back of his neck.

"Grey...?" The infliction in the voice didn't set him on edge so much as the telltale crackle of gathering magical energies.

With an overwhelming sense of foreboding, Grey forced himself to turn around to face his now hostile customer. He wished he hadn't.

Her eyes glowed with power and anger he had rare exception to see in the otherwise congenial mage. It went well beyond the usual displays of her volatile but ultimately impotent temper.

"You had one job!"

Paladin's Cross

by Sage Quill

A Candle in the Dark

Desperate Arrivals

Companions of Circumstance

Restless Respite

Streets of Grey

Smoldering Coals

Burning Cinders

In the Dead of Night

Calm Before the Storm

Maelstrom of Recompense

Gauntlet of Fire and Tears

Darkness before Dawn

Righteous in Wrath

First Interlude

Wagon Wanderings

Fitfull Awakenings

True, True Friends

History of a Dying World

Watcher of the Woods

Back Alley Sally

Cities by the Sea

Backroom Dealings

Slight of Hand

Memoirs and Memories

Word from Abroad