> The Angel Of The Sun
>  by BlackRoseRaven
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> The Angel Of The Sun
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Angel of the Sun
~BlackRoseRaven

“Honey, please stop. It's only been two weeks since you gave birth, you really need to rest.” soothed a unicorn stallion gently, reaching up to touch her shoulder quietly. Yet the Pegasus barely paid the light-blue stallion any attention, her cold red eyes focused on the punching bag in front of her as she kept herself easily balanced, slamming hoof after hoof into the taped-up, heavy cylinder in front of her. “Come on, sweetie. You've been exercising for an hour.”
“Do not call me that.” the blonde-coated Pegasus said irritably, slamming a last hoof into the bag before she closed her scarlet eyes. She shook her head slowly, making her crimson mane swirl like fire before she reached back and pulled the tie free from her scarlet locks, and her mane automatically spilling forwards over one shoulder and a bang falling forwards to half-cover one eye before she turned away from the unicorn, seeming to ignore him completely as she called irritably: “Carhop!”
“I gave Carhop the day off, remember? Sol Seraph, come on now.” The unicorn was smiling, however, shaking his head slowly before he reached up to absently brush his pale-green mane out of his emerald eyes, smoothing it back... but as always, a few rogue strands still spilled forwards around his tall blue horn, as the Pegasus looked towards him moodily from across the exercise room.
He walked towards her, then embraced her tightly, and the Pegasus arched her back and rose her head with a grimace, rolling her eyes even as strange feelings she didn't entirely enjoy spilled through her, and the unicorn said softly: “Honey, come on. You're trying way too hard here. You're already months ahead of the expected healing process, you need to slow down, if only for a few days.”
“No. There is work to be done, there are things that I must attend to, Ardor. Please do not...” Sol Seraph grumbled as the unicorn only soothingly rubbed his front hooves along her back, and she shivered for a moment before those odd feelings washed through her again, and she sighed softly: “Very well. I shall... rest for an hour. Please release me.”
“Hug me back.” Ardor said playfully, and Sol Seraph looked as if she'd bitten into a lemon before the unicorn squeezed her firmly with a grin as he leaned back, eyes cheerful. “Come on, sweetie!”
Sol Seraph finally moodily rose one foreleg and returned the embrace, and then she winced when Ardor kissed her forehead quietly before the stallion smiled warmly into her eyes, saying softly: “I love you, Sol Seraph. Why don't we go and check on our foal, Fluttershy? We can play with her for a little while.”
“No, we cannot. For the next two hours Matilda is looking after her and she is being trained in-” Sol Seraph began, but Ardor only laughed and turned, bouncing cheerfully out of the exercise room, and the Pegasus closed her eyes and dropped her head forwards with a sigh. “Idiot.”
Moodily, she followed the stallion out, turning down the red carpeted hall as she glanced grumpily back at her cutie mark: the T-shaped rune of Tyr, symbolizing her strength, her pride, her power. For generations, her family had been law-makers, officers, warriors... hunters. Nothing like Ardor, as she turned calmly down the red carpeted hall through an open door and stepped into the black-and-white nursery.
Matilda, a grouchy-looking griffin, was sitting moodily at one side of the room, several books laid out over the white table in front of her and a small, very expensive cassette deck quietly playing classical music. Ardor was already at the crib, and their foal's laughter rose up to Sol Seraph's ears as she looked disapprovingly at the unicorn even as she strode up beside him, barely tossing a glance into the crib at her own foal. “This is not correct.”
“Oh, stop, Sol. Look at her, how beautiful she is! How happy she is to see us...” Ardor smiled widely, leaning over the crib and gazing warmly in at the giggling filly, and Sol Seraph grimaced even as she leaned forwards and looked moodily over the child. “Just look at her! She looks just like her mother. A beautiful Pegasus.”
“Centuries of pure-blood lineage on both sides of our family end with her.” Sol Seraph said quietly, and Ardor smiled wider at this, gazing lovingly at his wife as the Pegasus shook her head slowly. “But she will be strong.”
“She will be. She is! Why, when he was born, not a single cry, not a single whimper, she was happy to come into the world, Sol... but you really do have to spend more time with her.” Ardor reached up and gently stroked the Pegasus' face, and Sol Seraph grimaced even as she felt that strange writhe inside of her again. “I know you have a lot of things that are very important to you, but a foal is very important too, isn't it? And like you said... my lineage is pure-blood unicorn all the way back to a thousand years ago, and yours is Pegasus. We defied the traditions of both our families to get married, to have her... don't you love her? Don't you take pride in her, darling, in what she represents?”
“I... yes.” Sol Seraph said finally, her eyes flicking nervously down to the filly, and then she closed her eyes and sighed, pushing away from the cradle before ordering quietly: “Do an extra half-hour, Matilda, to make up for this interruption. You will be compensated fairly.”
“Thank you, Lady Seraph.” Matilda bowed her head low, and Ardor gave the griffin a smile as he turned and hurried after his wife, following her out into the hall as she moodily walked down the long corridor of their beautiful mansion.
They were silent for a few moments, and then Ardor grinned widely, bouncing up beside her as he leaned towards her and asked brightly: “Remember how we met?”
“I do not wish to discuss this now.” Sol Seraph said moodily, but Ardor only laughed even as they pushed into their bedroom. There was a single enormous bed against the middle of the back wall, with a small table to either side: one  neatly organized with everything in strict piles, the other a jumbled mess of knickknacks and assorted junk. Sol Seraph headed first to this... and then she grimaced when Ardor's horn glowed, pulling back the covers of the bed as he gave her an imploring look.
She sighed, then finally slid forwards and under the covers with a grimace, and the unicorn gently tucked her in as he said in a softer voice: “As I recall, it was at one of those fancy functions I was being forced to attend... and that it was my cutie mark that interested you.”
He glanced back at this with a soft smile: a black hammer surrounded by a silver aura, the stallion continuing softly: “You thought it symbolized strength-”
“It does. You are very strong. It's why I chose you over my other suitors.” Sol Seraph said calmly, and Ardor smiled amusedly at her even as the Pegasus looked seriously back at him. “Your magical powers were a great allure to me. A unicorn foal with our mixed strengths would have made an excellent heir.”
“Oh sweetie. Darling, come on now, we've talked about this.” Ardor smiled at her before he stepped forwards, kissing her cheek quietly, and Sol Seraph shifted awkwardly before the unicorn continued his story in a calm, easy voice: “But what it really symbolized was my prowess working with materials at the forge. Using my magic, I've always been good at repairing everything from leather straps to the heaviest of steel armor. I've always enjoyed the work, too, more than I enjoy throwing my other magic around. I guess we both come from warlike families, but... I've never been very good at being warlike.”
He smiled warmly, and Sol Seraph nodded calmly, saying quietly: “You do not have killing instincts. You are... weak, in that regard. Harmless.”
“Now, sweetie, we talked about that too.” Ardor said gently, reaching up and poking Sol Seraph's nose lightly, and the Pegasus grimaced a little as she looked moodily down at his hoof. “I know you follow the old ways of your clan and you've got that fancy secret society you attend, but it's just not who I am. Besides, it's confusing. You call me weak and you call me strong, often in the same breath. How can I be both?”
“You are weak because you are a coward. You are strong because your magic ability is unrivaled by any unicorn I have ever met within the organization, and we make up the elite of Equestria.” Sol Seraph replied quietly, nodding once, and when Ardor gave her a pointed look, the Pegasus fidgeted as another strange worm of feelings twisted inside her before she said finally: “I apologize.”
“Thank you, honey.” Ardor smiled, then he stepped forwards and nuzzled her softly, making her wince a little as she rose her head awkwardly. “Now listen, sweetheart. I'm going to go and fix you something to eat, okay? Please just wait here and rest. Then I'll massage your wings and help you with your post-pregnancy care...”
“I do not need it. I have healed, I am fine.” Sol Seraph grimaced a little, but Ardor only gave her one of his pleading looks, and Sol felt another strange twist inside of her stomach before she sighed and nodded moodily. “Very well. I shall wait here. I shall permit you to care for me.”
“Thank you, dear.” Ardor said softly, and he leaned up and kissed her temple quietly before smiling as he turned and hurried out of the room, leaving the Pegasus in silence with her thoughts.
She looked at the door Ardor had left from, knowing it would take him roughly twelve minutes to get back, likely with soup or sandwiches from the kitchen. Something soft, gentle... like him. Likely with a glass of water or milk, perhaps a few sweets. The Pegasus was not fond of sweets, though... nor was she fond of simple fair like Ardor preferred.
They were opposites in so many ways: he was kind and compassionate, she was... not. And yet all the same he was a son of the proud Paladins of Equestria, an ancient and privileged unicorn sect of the Order of Seraphim, for which Sol Seraph herself was named... the Order her honored father was a Praetor of. And one day, it was expected that she herself would become a Praetor, despite her dislike of the Order's rules and obligations and outdated honor codes.
For example, one rule was that only those born into a certain sect could be trained and serve in the ways of that sect: the Paladins of Equestria, for example, were all pure-blooded unicorns descended from three brothers. Just as the sect Sol was a part of, the Phoenix Guild, were all Pegasi of pure blood descended from two brothers and their sister. They were also the only guild that valued mares higher than they did stallions.
She had been raised in these ways from birth, and planned to raise her daughter in the same way: she had wanted to name her Gold Glory, but Ardor had insisted on Fluttershy. Just like he insisted that she be sent to Cloudsdale for flight camp when she was old enough, and Sol Seraph found it difficult to argue with this. It was a cloud city, a traditional home of the Pegasi, and important to their heritage and culture... even though she had never been there herself, and had no urge to relocate out of Hoofston to any sort of cloud settlement. Too many vulnerabilities that could be easily taken advantage of. And too far away from prey.
Her family had lived for generations in southern Equestria, in and around the Hoofston area: it was where this branch of the Order of Seraphim was stationed, after all, although they did their 'business' all over the world. From acting as bodyguards to hunting animals to silent assassination missions, the Order had many faces and many names... and the money that could be culled from something as simple as hunting down a manticore was surprising. But few ponies these days were hunters... and fewer than that were worthy hunters, who deserved and earned their place in the hierarchy and the respect it entailed.
Like her, Ardor knew all the rules of the Order, had been through the initiation rituals, knew the status quo and ranks... unlike her, however, Ardor was content to simply be a supplier and handler, and had quietly, politely moved to the side the first chance he'd gotten. He was neither a part of the Order, and yet nor was he an ex-member... all ex-members, after all, were considered dead. Even those who were alive were marked... the only difference between them and a corpse to the Order was that one hadn't had the sense to lay down in the grave yet.
Ardor was sweet, and compassionate, and kind, and loving, and gentle: he was everything she considered weak and pathetic. He was a coward who didn't rise to the occasion of battle, whenever he touched anyone it was never with the intent of causing physical harm, and he refused to partake in most of the old traditions in his quiet, gentle way, smiling and making some excuse. He was nice to everyone and everything, whether they were lower-class pony or worse, barely-sentient beast...
Yet he was also a unicorn, with great powers: talented in magic, well-versed in metallurgy and a variety of forging techniques, physically and mentally strong, and the son of a Paladin who sat at the High Table of his sect... likely part of the reason Ardor was allowed to continue to do whatever he pleased.
Sol Seraph quietly touched her stomach, frowning as she looked down at herself. That wasn't entirely fair, and she knew it: when they sparred, Ardor kept up to her well, after all, and his horn fencing was exceptional. He was simply... different. And he makes me feel... different.
It was true. She still didn't entirely understand why she had chosen him: there had been other suitors, after all, equally-good suitors... maybe one or two who were better. And, if she really did hate who he was so much, why was it she always felt the need to defend him, even from herself? Why did she feel guilty, or funny, even thinking about him negatively? Why did it make her angry when the others said bad things about him, even when they were true?
She had been expected to find a worthy suitor, after all, and usually that meant someone within the Order itself, or in one of the few other remaining societies across Equestria that bore similarities to theirs. But she had little interest in politics of the body, or romance... just as she had little need for friends. She did not have friends: she had allies who could be trusted, and acquaintances who could not be. Sometimes she did favors for these allies, but only so that they would do favors for her in return. That was as close to 'friendship' as she liked to be.
And there had been many suitors: daughter of a Praetor, and the highest rank she'd served in was Second. Proud, powerful, respected, and most of all, feared, Sol Seraph was always given the hardest tasks available to the Order at the moment... if only because she would not accept anything less, and the weakening warriors that ran the order feared what she was capable of. Just as her father had always wanted.
She did not feel love or kinship with her family: her father lived in this same mansion – when he was not gone on business, that was – and yet they almost never saw each other. When they did meet it was usually under formal circumstances: her as a warrior of the Phoenix Guild, him as one of the three Praetors that ran the sect and sat at the High Table of the Order of Seraphim. But she thought sometimes she... loved... Ardor.
She could not explain away these feelings. Could not explain why she behaved the way she did around Ardor, why she listened to him, why she felt... strange... when he said all his nice little words. Why they had been together for a year before she had gotten pregnant, or why they lived together now in the mansion as a couple instead of living apart for safety reasons. Not that Sol Seraph's father complained: in negotiating the dowry, he had brought up the fact that Ardor would be living in a home provided by the Praetor, and it had helped in greatly reducing the tribute paid.
Ardor said all the time that he loved her. Hitting him, insulting him, ignoring him, leaving him alone for weeks at a time, none of it would change his opinion, none of it would make him do anything but smile at her and say those words that made her cringe and feel... strange. And he said they were supposed to love their daughter, too, but Sol Seraph didn't understand why he would say such a thing. 'Love' was not a concept she entirely understood, after all: she knew that it was taught to normal foals and ponies, like friendship and other things, but normal ponies were all worthless. They did not know how to fight, or to defend themselves. All they could do was rely on their weak Princess Celestia, and her worthless soldiers who faced nothing more threatening than stupid animals on a regular basis.
As she had been taught, all foals were considered worthless, not possessing rank or value until they proved themselves worthy of initiation. It was why foals were trained from birth by their parents in the arts of their sects, why their traditions were so important, and also the chief reason why every now and then a promising warrior would attempt to flee the Order: not because of any outside interference, but instead because their foal had proven unworthy. And there was no greater shame than a foal who proved unworthy, who would never be a member of the Order, who was considered 'frail.'
The Order would not kill these foals: their existence was enough of a punishment as it was, and their fates were left to their parents. Sol Seraph felt herself that the worthless foals should simply be destroyed... it was what she told herself she would do if Fluttershy proved to be worthless. After all, what was the point of having a foal if it could never serve any purpose, never would be able to meet the high standards set by the Order or worse, the higher standards Sol Seraph already planned to impose herself.
The act of giving birth to the filly down the hall did nothing to make her feel any kind of magical connection to the child, either. What she had been taught was that when something hurt you, you attempt to hurt it back, no matter who or what it was, by whatever means you could. Her pregnancy, as she recalled, was not filled with joy and roses. She instead recalled being fat, unable to defend herself properly from attack due to balance and nausea issues, and a wide variety of physical and emotional difficulties she was still recovering from. Granted, she'd never allowed herself to grow weak and placid... Ardor had warned her again and again that she could hurt the baby, but what use was a child so fragile that it couldn't even stand being carried in the stomach of another without being hurt?
The process of giving birth had been... unpleasant. It had been disgusting, and for all her training she couldn't simply squeeze and force the baby out. She had been at the mercy of doctors and medical staff while the pain ebbed and flowed. The pain, however, was the most welcome part of the entire experience. Pain was the only thing she would accept the friendship of, were it ever offered; pain was the only ally she could ever trust to always be there, alerting her of what part of her body was under attack, punishing animals and ponies alike when she struck them with hoof or crosshatch blade.
Sol Seraph's eyes moodily flicked to the side before Ardor came back in with a smile, noting that he was two minutes early before she frowned as her eyes turned back towards him as the unicorn approached with a bright grin and a tray with both a plate of food and a large, gift-wrapped box on it. He was excited, and doing a bad job of hiding it... but then again, she could always read him like a book and he didn't seem to ever know what she was feeling. “Happy anniversary, hon!”
“It's not an important date. I asked you not to celebrate this.” Sol Seraph said irritably, but Ardor only smiled warmly at her as he approached, then set the tray gently down across her lap, letting her look moodily down at the gift and the blueberry pie. “Nor did I get you anything.”
“I know, but that doesn't matter. You're here with me, aren't you?” Ardor smiled at her, and Sol Seraph looked up, feeling a strange twist inside of her... no, two strange twists. Something that might be guilt... something that might be... love. “Open it, darling!”
Sol Seraph sighed, moodily pushing the blueberry pie away: the only dessert she'd deign to eat... almost all sugary foods disgusted her. They were a waste of calories and effort, and if she wanted a treat she preferred the delicious taste of meat: something Ardor could barely handle the sight of, but that she herself had been eating since she was a young filly. It was part of the Order's traditions: every member ate meat at least once in their life, took a share of their first kill, made it part of them. Only Sol Seraph and a select few others, however, were able to handle the immense effort it took to train their bodies into accepting meat on a more regular basis. To make themselves predators, instead of simply prey-ponies.
She picked up the box, then glared at Ardor when he clapped his hooves excitedly before he smiled at her, and she made a moody face in return before turning her eyes to the box. She tore at the paper, not caring where it went before yanking off the lid of the cardboard box beneath... and she sighed a little as she reached into the box, grumpily pulling out a book and flipping it over to look grouchily at the cover. “I do not need a field guide to herbs and flora.”
“Herbs and flora to the north, though.” Ardor said kindly, and then he winked at her when she shot him a sour look before saying eagerly: “Open it, look inside!”
Sol Seraph sighed tiredly, rolling her head on her shoulders in frustration before she flipped the book open... and stared in surprise as two scraps of paper floated out. For a moment, she stiffened up, wondering what the trick was, if she had underestimated for too long what poisons or alchemy Ardor was capable of and she would now be paying that price... but then Ardor giggled, and she felt strangely disappointed as she realized they were only tour tickets, reaching forwards and scooping them up in her hooves as she shot a cursory glance over them and the unicorn said cheerfully: “Hoofston to Manehattan to Snow Saddle and across Charger's Crossing by special carriage, then we go west across Equestria until we reach the seaboard and the wilds out there! You've always wanted to go out there, right?  You said that you've never hunted in that area before and... well, I'd really like to see the sights, so it works for both of us!”
“I...” Sol Seraph felt that strange twist inside her again before she frowned over at Ardor, cocking her head curiously as she asked slowly: “You remembered this. You would do that... for me?”
And Ardor smiled softly as he gently flicked his horn, easily pulling the tickets out of her hoof to lay them down on her table, even as the Pegasus winced a bit at her neatness being invaded by Ardor's clutter before her husband took her hooves gently and looked up into her eyes, saying softly: “I would do it... for us. My gift to you is these tickets. Your anniversary gift to me is to say 'yes.' I love you, sweetie.”
“I...” Sol Seraph looked down at him silently... and then she closed her eyes and nodded once with a sigh, feeling another pang inside of her as Ardor laughed and leapt up to hug her around the neck, and she only let her hooves hang limply, eyes still moodily closed.

A few days later found Sol Seraph calmly striding into an imposing cathedral of stone and ironwood through the open front doors, completely ignoring the ponies to either side standing calm guard. They looked relaxed, but were anything but as they kept an eye out on the wide front lawn: a brick path that was flanked by statues of Pegasi and unicorns cut down the center of this to a heavy iron gate guarded by more ponies, but only children would be stupid enough to attempt to break into the Order of the Seraphim's base in Hoofston through the front gate. Not that they would have much luck even if they scaled or flew over the fifteen foot, spike-topped stone walls surrounding the building... there were constant patrols on staggered schedules, and guards ever watching the perimeter.
Sol Seraph walked slowly into the spacious, immense main room of the cathedral: it still possessed all the beauty of its ancient architecture and high ceilings, but the rows of pews had long been torn out, and instead the Congregation Hall was filled with ponies of all shape and size, many of them in uniform like Sol herself: simple black clothing, and bracers locked around all four limbs, the color denoting their rank. Weapons were not permitted inside the Congregation Hall: those stupid enough to bring them in anyway were severely punished.
Sol's bracers were red: Fourth rank. Once she had been as high as the Second rank, but that had been several years ago, and there had been several incidents resulting in her being punished and demoted. Sometimes, she thought of this with regret: not for herself, but because apparently the Order was unable to see the big picture and understand that what she had done had been for the benefit of all its members.
She ignored the gathering of members of the Orders from various guilds: they all wore the same uniform here, it was only training and a sharp eye that could differentiate them from one another, and she wasn't interested in taking part in their songs, their exercises, or their rallies. Instead, she made her way to a heavy iron door at the side of the enormous cathedral room and shoved it open to let herself into a private rest area.
Low light, two comfortable couches around a large table, and two ponies were chatting calmly with a third Pegasus who was slowly polishing a small but dangerous-looking knife as he leaned against the wall. He glanced coldly up, but then gave a slight smile at the sight of Sol Seraph as the other ponies fell quiet and looked uneasily over their shoulders at her before the golden Pegasus simply flicked her head to the side.
Both ponies hurriedly slipped out of the couch and made their way out, and Sol Seraph kicked the door closed behind her as she walked forwards, past the ornate fireplace that was there more for decoration than anything else as the other Pegasus said calmly: “Sister. So good to see you.”
“Brother.” Sol Seraph acknowledged after a moment, bowing her head slightly to him: Mourning Wind, a First Rank member of the Phoenix Guild she had been partnered with on several occasions. An ally who she knew she could trust on a mission... she just didn't trust him much anywhere else. One of the few ponies she would permit to treat her as an equal, a 'sibling' in the Order.
The stallion smiled as he flicked his two-tone white-and-black striped mane, silvery body covered by both a uniform as well as a tight rawhide bandolier. His eyes were like black gemstones, glinting cunningly: almost the same color as the bracers around his forelegs, denoting his elite rank.
Mourning smiled calmly as he spun the knife around, then slipped it easily beneath one of his front bracers, hiding it from sight before he glanced moodily up as the Pegasus mare said quietly: “Weapons are not permitted in this place.”
“Oh, and since when did you decide to start following the rules, sister?” Mourning asked with a slight smile, before he asked almost mockingly as Sol Seraph strode towards him: “Or perhaps your sweet husband is rubbing off on you, is he?”
“Please refrain from speaking of Ardor.” Sol Seraph replied quietly, her eyes becoming cold as she felt that twist inside of her, as well as a feeling she recognized with much-greater ease: anger. “And that is not my concern, Mourning Wind. I am only curious as to why a First Rank would feel the need for a weapon into the Congregation Hall... it's as shameful as an adult carrying a security blanket.”
The stallion looked across at her moodily for a few moments, and then he flexed a hoof slowly against the ground as they glared at each other before the male asked abruptly: “How's your father?”
“The Praetor is healthy, but old. He's off on what may be his last great hunt.” Sol Seraph gave a thin smile. “A dragon. Specifically, a red dragon. Healthy, strong, full-adult. It will be worth a fortune. He plans to hunt and kill it himself.”
“You sound envious.” Mourning Wind said softly, and Sol Seraph was silent before she gave a simple nod, making the stallion snort in entertainment. “Well, sister you would be freer to pursue your own hunts if you would at least fake your way up through the ranks... doing the lower-tier missions must be proving exceptionally boring for one of your stature and strength, after all.”
“Is that a hint of mockery again, Mourning Wind?” Sol Seraph asked quietly, her eyes narrowing slightly, and Mourning Wind only smiled calmly, contritely at her. “Rank does not matter to me. I am not here to serve the Order of the Seraphim. The Order serves my interests, that is all: we have discussed this in the past.”
“We have, and I said you sounded like a traitor then and you sound like a traitor now.” the stallion replied easily, his voice less-threatening and more taunting than anything else. “You also sound like you're whining, to be entirely honest. Whining, just like Ardor whines until he gets his way. Of course, all things considered, maybe what you're really after is exile from the Order, so you and your precious husband can run away together.”
Sol Seraph trembled with fury, her eyes cold, her teeth slowly gritting before she asked in a slow, dangerous voice: “And what exactly makes you think I will permit even you to get away with saying these things to me?”
“The fact that it is the truth. The fact that you have become a coward.” Mourning Wind replied coldly, leaning forwards as his own eyes narrowed dangerously. “And the fact that I am a First rank and the highest you've ever been is Second, little sister. To me, you're no predator... you're just prey that amuses me.”
Sol Seraph snorted in disgust and turned away, saying distastefully as she focused her eyes ahead: “And then perhaps I should take the coward's path and simply report that dagger you've hidden away to one of the other Praetors.”
Mourning Wind snarled and lunged at her back... just as Sol Seraph had expected him to. She immediately and easily intercepted the attack, swinging both rear legs up and not kicking out, but instead catching his neck between her limbs and twisting savagely to slam the stallion back down into the ground as he cursed in shock even as he brought one of his own front limbs quickly up in front of his neck to stop her from throttling him.
All the same, Sol Seraph's legs locked tightly into place around him as she sat up and slammed her front hooves viciously back and forth across his face, then she glanced sharply up as the stallion half-rolled and kicked both rear legs hard towards her. She was prepared for the attack, however, easily twisting out of the path of one hoof and blocking the other with a forelimb as her other front hoof curled around and slammed into the back of his knee, making him wince and bend his leg automatically... before her other front hoof swung in a vicious punch directly into his kneecap, Mourning Wind's eyes bulging with horror as he felt it dislodge, giving a short cry of pain and shock.
Sol Seraph dove forwards as she felt the stallion lose his focus to the pain, past the male's own legs as her own rear limbs stayed locked tightly around his neck and upper leg, and the stallion had a moment of stupefaction before the Pegasus flapped her wings to give herself an extra boost into the ground, forcing herself to roll and lashing both legs out to hurl Mourning Wind into the wall. The stallion was flung like a toy, crashing off the solid stone only a few feet away with a gargle and falling weakly to his haunches, bleeding heavily as he shivered once before looking up weakly as Sol Seraph calmly approached, then punched him hard enough to drive his face into the wall, leaving a smear of red as he flinched and shivered weakly.
“I told you not to talk about my husband.” Sol Seraph said quietly, looking down at him with disappointment before she slammed her hoof into his face again, jarring his head painfully off the wall once more. “Do not threaten me. Do not antagonize me. Do not mock me. And most of all, do not think yourself superior to me.”
Each point was emphasized with another punch, except for the last, which instead she struck him twice for... and then the mare rose her hoof and brought a brutal hammer-strike crashing down on the end of Mourning Wind's muzzle, cracking the bone and driving him to the ground as he let out a cry of agony, clutching at his profusely-bleeding nose as the Pegasus looked down and said disgustedly: “Weak. Pathetic. I thought better of you. I suppose it's clear now that I thought wrong, brother.”
Mourning Wind only closed his eyes, bowing his head forwards with a tremble before Sol Seraph shook her own slowly and turned around, adding contemptibly: “Do not contact me again. I have no urge to talk to anything as useless as you.”
With that, the Pegasus let herself out, ignoring the fellow pony as he weakly tried to say something, but it didn't matter to her: whether it had been for business or polite conversation, she no longer had any interest in dealing with the stallion when he had failed to even provide a suitable fight. She looked moodily back and forth as she strode away from the door, before her eyes slipped towards a large crowd that had gathered in a circle around the center of the Congregation Hall, from all the different sects of the Order, and she allowed herself to be drawn moodily towards this as a voice announced clearly: “-their rite of initiation: they must prove themselves worthy, that they are ready to be counted among the strongest of Equestria, by surviving a sparring session with a warrior already in our ranks!”
Sol Seraph shoved her way through the crowd, not caring who she pushed or how hard she pushed them: a few glared at her, but when they realized who was passing them by, they more often than not quickly turned their eyes away. She frowned out at the ring of mats that had been set up and the six new candidates: two unicorns and four Pegasi. They did not permit earth ponies in their ranks: in fact, most of the Order still considered earth ponies to be nothing more than slave hoofs... and that Celestia, for whatever divinity she possessed, was not only weak, but insane for preaching her message of equality between all ponies.
One Pegasus stepped forwards proudly, grinning widely as he looked back and forth: handsome, enormous, his wings broad and body ivory-white, his mane the same vibrant red as his confident eyes, his cutie mark a simple red star. In other words, he bore many similarities to Sol Seraph... but as most of the sects were made up of family members, it wasn't much of a surprise. But it was the name that brought it all back to her... “The first to be initiated is Crimson Flare. His challenger is-”
“I will challenge him. He is my cousin, and the son of my uncle, Praetor Ghostwing.” Sol Seraph said calmly, stepping forwards into the circle, and the unicorn that had been making the announcement looked nervously up, his hoof raised and other ponies whispering worriedly even as Crimson only grinned wider. “It is only fair, is it not, Paladin? I am a Fourth Rank. It is within my right to request.”
“Cousins, are we? I accept, but don't think it means anything to me... Sol Seraph. I have never heard your name mentioned in my home, so I don't think my father will mind when I crush you beneath my hooves!” Crimson said eagerly, stepping forwards as the other initiates were waved backwards, and Sol Seraph only smiled thinly at the male. As he moved, frantic with energy and hungry for the fight, the golden Pegasus could already tell the stallion would be easy prey.
“I am not surprised.” Sol Seraph said softly, and the male only laughed even as the unicorn Paladin stepped nervously forwards, giving her an imploring look that she met for a moment before disdainfully flicking her eyes back towards Crimson.
He approached, and the two bowed their heads calmly before the unicorn Paladin said clearly despite his obvious misgivings: “Then, if all is settled... let the fight begin!”
Crimson lunged forwards almost before the unicorn was done speaking, eagerly shoving himself up to his rear hooves and slamming a volley of hard blows directly into Sol Seraph's face, and the mare grimaced as she staggered backwards, pain coursing through her... but pain had never been unwelcome. Pain had never been an enemy: when she was a foal, when she had been weak, she hadn't understood then, but as she'd grown older it had all become so clear to her, and after her mind understood, her body had begun to understand as well: pain was more familiar to her and more welcome than even pleasure.
Crimson ran forwards, making a wide, obvious hook, and Sol Seraph let it slam into her cheek, tilting her head and drawing away slightly to reduce the force of the blow and avoid it from possibly damaging her cheekbone. Simple, easy movements that went completely unnoticed by Crimson but other members of the Order clearly saw as they whispered nervously between themselves before the Pegasus stallion lunged upwards and flapped his wings hard, swinging both rear legs towards her in a vicious but slow kick.
Sol Seraph blocked this with her bracer-covered forearms, hooves banging loudly and uselessly against steel as the stallion flung himself backwards to land easily near the edge of the ring with a wide grin, eyes blazing. “How pathetic! How did a weakling like you ever become a member of the Order?”
The golden Pegasus narrowed her eyes slightly, and then Crimson grinned as he leapt forwards before strafing back and forth, but his quick-stepping was wide and obvious... amateur at best. But her uncle had always been soft... not like her father, who had always been hard on her. Who had been almost cruel, in fact... and she was glad every day for that now, that he had trained any attachment to him she might have had out of her, that he had made her cold, strong, and ruthless, that he had taught her through punishment and pain instead of reward and kindness...
Crimson lunged at her legs, and Sol Seraph leapt easily into the air, gracefully twisting her body to land on all four hooves before the Pegasus scrambled around in a circle and lurched at her, reminding her all too clearly of a stupid, greedy mongrel dog as he brought his hooves up and then swung them savagely downwards, and Sol Seraph leaned backwards slightly so the blow only clipped her shoulders: it still carried enough forced to knock her stumbling, and Crimson grinned as he swung a hoof in an uppercut, doing a shabby job of reversing his own momentum and the blow little effective before his other hoof shot up and seized her by the throat, dragging her in before her eyes widened when he spat in her face, holding her in place as he said contemptibly: “What a pathetic piece of trash. What a worthless mare!”
He brought a hoof back... and Sol Seraph took the first blow, then the second without twitching, still staring at him with disbelief. Had he actually dared to spit on her? His words served no tactical purpose, he was merely mocking her for the sake of mocking her... and slowly, she snarled even as his hoof crashed a third time into her eye, but she barely winced despite the bruising over her face before he shoved her backwards and said disgustedly: “Go ahead and forfeit, I'll even take on another warrior if this is all you have to offer!”
The Paladin began to step forwards angrily, but then he winced as Sol Seraph calmly cracked her neck before looking coldly up, her eyes burning out of her bruised features as she said darkly: “Let us begin.”
“But... she's lost, she's losing, isn't she?” whispered one of the uninitiated nervously towards a Pegasus with blue bracers: while his comrades were cheering for Crimson, the unicorn had picked up on the distinct unease growing in the air and the way stoic faces around the circle had become marred with apprehension. “She's losing, right?”
“No. She's playing with him, toying with him... your friend has lost. Pray that defeat is all he suffers.” murmured the Pegasus in return, his eyes locking on Sol Seraph as Crimson rushed towards her.
Then Sol Seraph gave a short, cold smile, and Crimson had a moment to frown before a hoof flicked him under the chin just hard enough to make him look up slightly before a volley of blows smashed back and forth across his face, the stallion losing his focus and staggering back and forth as he shook his head wildly, yelling in dumb surprise before he threw himself backwards, agony ripping through his system as Sol Seraph landed calmly back on all fours. He stared at her with disbelief, drool and blood slowly dripping from his mouth before the mare leaned forwards and said coldly: “You are slow. Your movements are direct and childish. You do not possess even your father's level of skill.”
Crimson snarled at this, lunging forwards and swinging a leg up and outwards... and Sol Seraph easily caught it in both of her own front limbs, Crimson's eyes widening before she twisted hard and slammed him onto his back. The stallion cursed... then screamed when Sol Seraph continued to twist savagely, dislocating his shoulder before she jerked firmly forwards even as the unicorn Paladin shouted at her to stop, before all eyes stared in horror as she twisted again and dislocated the bones at the elbow as well, the limb looking horribly, unnaturally stretched and distorted as Crimson shrieked in agony and Sol Seraph murmured: “My. Now who's the worthless mare?”
Then the Pegasus suddenly leaned forwards, pushing the dislocated, stretched leg of the stallion back over his own shoulder, as she twisted viciously yet again, and his screaming reached new levels before the unicorn Paladin leapt forwards and shouted furiously at Sol Seraph: “That's enough! Release him, now!”
Sol Seraph's eyes slowly flicked towards the Paladin as he glared at her, stomping one black-bracer-covered leg, and for a moment longer the mare held the stallion's leg in place as he screamed and shook his head wildly, kicking uselessly at the floor before she simply dropped it, and his limb flopped to the ground with a sickening thud as he gave another cry of agony that turned into a whimpering moan. Sol Seraph calmly turned her back, striding away in disgust as several ponies hurried in around the wounded male, and then one of them looked up and whispered in the horrified silence: “The... the damage is too severe. We'll have to... amputate.”
Crimson sobbed, dropping low, tears flowing down his cheeks as his limb shuddered: twisted violently, bones dislodged and at least one fractured, bleeding heavily from the way the limb had been twisted and jerked and contorted so violently near the shoulder that flesh had torn like paper, a pool of crimson spreading slowly beneath him as he shuddered weakly. The unicorn Paladin stared for a moment at this, then he snarled, looking towards Sol Seraph and asking furiously: “What made you think this was necessary? He was your own cousin!”
“So what? I did him a favor.” Sol Seraph said coldly, looking disgustedly over her shoulder at the crying, trembling Pegasus. “He was weak. He was unskilled. He would not have lasted long in our ranks and he would have soiled what the Order is supposed to stand for. He would have been shortly killed or dishonored. Now he will live.”
“You completely destroyed one of his limbs!” the unicorn retorted, gesturing violently towards Crimson and looking horrified. “That is no mercy, that is-”
“That is mercy. I could have easily killed him.” Sol Seraph smiled thinly, reaching up and sweeping her mane calmly back. “I could have also done far worse.”
“Sol Seraph, you are not beyond the rules and laws of this Order, whatever you think... you have crippled the child of a Praetor of your own sect, and during an initiation rite no less... do you not think there will be punishment for this transgression? Do you not think your father-”
The Pegasus mare only snorted coldly, however, saying distastefully: “The Praetor will not complain that I have crippled the heir of his brother. And my uncle should thank me. I saved his son's life.” She paused, then turned around, the crowd parting for her as she made her way towards the exit and said clearly: “Let the Order punish me as it will. It does not matter to me. If sniveling, weakling cowards are what the Order looks to kowtow and enshrine within its ranks... then I have no more urge to serve this once-noble band of warriors and hunters turned into crying foals and frail ponies.”
There were snarls, and the unicorn Paladin's eyes glowed with fury as he stepped forwards before muttering as the Pegasus calmly shoved her way through the doors leading out: “Oh, mark my words, there will be punishment, Sol Seraph. By the Horses of Heaven I guarantee it.”

Sol Seraph had discarded her bracers at some point, simply leaving them on the ground as she walked calmly down the streets of Hoofston in her uniform. Her eyes roved upwards, looking through the clouds slowly, and for a moment she felt like flying, but disregarded it after a moment. Walking helped keep her limbs strong, and her wings were already powerful enough as it was, and flying was a frivolous pursuit anyway. It was useful, certainly, but so few Pegasi ever flew with purpose: instead they sailed around through the air for any and every reason and excuse they could make up, and the lack of necessity disgusted her.
As she crossed an intersection, she calmly kept her gaze focused ahead, looking into the window of a storefront... and finding herself unsurprised to note two Pegasi were trailing her. Her uncle had likely wasted no time once he'd heard his son was hurt... and while it was unlikely they would risk following her all the way to her home or risk an attack if she continued to stay to populated main routes, she was far from afraid of these thugs... and more importantly, saw it as an opportunity to send a message back to her uncle.
She calmly continued on her path for a few blocks before turning down a side alley, and the Pegasi followed her into the narrow brick corridor between buildings. Both seemed unsurprised when they saw the mare calmly facing them, only halfway down the alley as she said softly: “Sloppy.”
“Not at all. We wanted you to see us. We knew you wouldn't try to avoid us once you did.” one of the stallions replied calmly, and Sol Seraph drew her eyes over him: tan jacket, large build, drab colors except for the silver bracelet around one foreleg. His partner, meanwhile, was still dressed in uniform, but his bracers were larger, bulkier... obviously concealing some kind of hidden weapon of his own.
Sol Seraph smiled grimly, her cold eyes narrowing. So they mean to kill me... “Sol Seraph, you have proved yourself a burden to the Order of the Seraphim. You have injured and even killed other members of the Order, and Praetor Valiance can no longer overlook this. Therefore, the Praetor has called for your execution... and the High Table has approved.” one of the stallions said clearly, and then he lowered his head forwards and added quietly: “Even if you kill us, all it means is a chance to flee into exile-”
“No.” Sol Seraph said quietly, and she smiled coldly, her eyes flashing as she leaned forwards and narrowed her eyes darkly. “I am not afraid of any of you. It is you who all fear me, and for good reason. I will kill you both.. I will kill any other assassins they send after me. I will kill the entire Order if I have to. I am a predator, and I do not need a pack of weakling ponies all muddling their strength together behind me to prove it.”
“Very well then.” one of the stallions replied icily, and they both bowed their heads forwards before Sol Seraph did the same. Then, the moment her head was raised, the two stallions lunged towards before the stallion with the bracelet swung his hoof out towards her... and the poisoned needle hidden on the underside of the assassination weapon gleamed in Sol Seraph's eyes.
She was expected to dodge: the entire point of the punch was that it would miss, giving the stallion an opportunity to scratch her face or shoulder with the needle: even a single prick of it would likely carry enough poison to at least weaken her, if not outright kill. Instead, Sol Seraph slammed her own hoof into the stallion's, making him wince before she reached her other front hoof quickly up and seized his foreleg, and the male's eyes widened before she forcibly bent his front limb and slammed the needle back into his own throat.
He gagged violently as he stared at her with horror, even as the second stallion lunged towards her side, flicking one front leg upwards to launch a knife upwards on a hidden spring from beneath the bracer. He caught it in his jaws... and then gargled when Sol Seraph scissored her rear legs neatly around his throat, his eyes bulging in shock as she continued to hold tightly onto the first assassin's forelimb even as foam began to bubble out of his jaws before she violently twisted her entire body to the side with a hard flap of her wings.
Both stallions were sent crashing down on their sides, and the poisoned assassin began to convulse violently, gargling weakly as the knife bounced out of his jaws the second before Sol Seraph continued to roll: the remaining assassin rolled with her, however, gritting his teeth as he staggered up to his hooves to try and jerk his head backwards, but Sol Seraph shoved herself firmly off the ground, eyes cold and vicious as she launched herself up into the air before her wings flapped hard as she gyrated her entire body, and the stallion gargled for a moment as he grabbed wildly at the knife before Sol Seraph's legs flexed with the rotation of her body and his neck loudly snapped.
He collapsed as Sol Seraph flew smoothly backwards, then landed on all four hooves before reaching up and brushing her mane back, sniffing once disdainfully as she said contemptibly: “How... brittle.”
With that, she paused long enough to flick back the jacket of the dying stallion, glancing down at the pack of cigarettes half-fallen out of the inner pocket of his jacket before she easily pulled this free. She pulled one white cylinder loose, and lit up with the lighter handily squished into the mostly-empty pack before tossing it away. Then, relishing the taste of the single enjoyment she permitted herself aside from the occasional meal of meat, she turned and continued calmly down the alley, not bothering to look back.

Sol Seraph's hooves smashed back and forth against the punching bag: a day had passed since the assassination attempt, and Ardor had been in a state of panic for most of the night after hearing what had happened. He was upset and worried, which made those strange feelings roll through her stomach... especially whenever he asked her if she was alright, despite how annoying it was to assure him that she was fine.
He was also all the more eager to go on their trip now, and Sol Seraph grimaced to herself as her hooves smashed into the bag. He wanted to 'wait for things to cool down,' as if the Order of the Seraphim would forget. In fact, she didn't want them to forget her, and didn't want things to simply 'cool down...' she wanted to kill off their members, restricted as they were by their code of honor, their laws and conduct codes and rules, until she had killed so many of them that they understood she was the superior predator... and that she was to be left alone.
“Honey, sweetie, hey now.” Ardor's voice was unwelcome as she closed her eyes, continuing her workout as her hooves slammed against the bag, the unicorn hurrying worriedly to her side. “Listen, we should talk about this... you're stressed and-”
“I am fine, Ardor.” Sol Seraph muttered irritably, her hooves continuing to slam against the bag as the unicorn looked at her worriedly. It made that strange feeling twist inside of her gut... and not knowing what it was, not understanding why it was there, not understanding all these feelings she was having only drove her frustrations higher, hooves smashing harder against the bag, making it sway violently.
“No you're not. Look, darling, come on. Stop. Let's go see Fluttershy. Let's spend some time together as a family. I love you.” Ardor said gently, and Sol Seraph flinched at his words, her last strike halting the bag instead of making it sway as the unicorn smiled at her, looked at her, and that twist, that unwanted, horrible twist went through her guts again...
The Pegasus looked at him for a few moments... and then, not thinking, she leaned forwards and slammed a hoof into his chest, making him gasp in shock as he dropped his head downwards, eyes widening... before Sol Seraph simply, briskly wrapped her limbs around his neck and snapped it, dropping his dying body to the ground a moment later. He twitched once, his eyes struggling to blink once as his mouth worked, and she only stared down at him silently, almost uncomprehendingly as that twist violently corkscrewed through her stomach, as something inside her burned... and then gave away, plunging downwards, leaving her numb and feeling nothing.
Calmly, slowly, she turned back to finish her workout, hooves smashing back and forth against the bag before she finally came to a halt, leaning forwards and breathing hard, sweat spreading down her features and body. Sweat, and no tears, as she looked over her shoulder and called coldly: “Carhop!”
A few moments passed, and then an aging earth pony silently strode into the room. He glanced down at Ardor's corpse without surprise, his features unchanging as Sol Seraph said distastefully: “Clean that up. But... save the horn.” The Pegasus paused, looking meditatively down at this, touching it and feeling it spark gently beneath her hoof, as if he was still trying to communicate with her, as if some vestige of his spirit was still there... ridiculous. I must be tired. “I will find a use for it.”
Carhop bowed his head silently to her, the earth pony knowing better than to speak as he strode forwards, then carefully lifted the heavy corpse of the unicorn to toss over his back. Sol Seraph watched him leave in silence, her expression strange, as if her heart was trying to convince body and mind to feel things that had long ago been locked away... and after a moment, the Pegasus shook her head out before she said quietly: “Passing weakness. That was all that feeling was. Passing weakness... I will stomp it out of my daughter. I will...”
She stopped, closing her eyes for a few moments before she silently made her way into the corridor, letting her hooves guide her until she reached her daughter's room. She pushed the door open, striding through to walk quietly over to the filly's crib, gazing down into it as she felt that strange twist inside her again... but it was muted and dim, and she suppressed it easily as she looked over the baby as she said softly: “I will make you strong. I will make you like me. I will not allow you to become... pathetic like your father was. You are my daughter, and an investment in the future...  your evolution will reflect upon me. I will not have you become... frail.”
Sol Seraph gazed down over the child almost coldly and nodded once to herself, leaning over the crib for a moment before she finally turned and headed to the door... hesitating only once before she lowered her head forwards as that alien twist made its way through her stomach. She knew what that feeling was though, it was unnecessary weakness... and just as the Praetor had with her, she vowed to mold her daughter into a perfect warrior, a perfect weapon.
Neither mother nor daughter knew what waited for them in the future, that one day Sol Seraph would come to Ponyville seeking to rectify a 'mistake' she had made many years ago: all that Sol Seraph knew was that she had a baby to try and shape into a hunter and predator who would be free from the restrictions of the Order and their outdated laws. Now there was no father to get in the way... and if her own father didn't like it or the fact she was no longer associated with the Order of the Seraphim... well, Praetor or not, she would simply kill him too.
Somehow, she didn't think anypony would care... or dare to complain about it if they did.