The Holy Covenant of the Triumvirate

Chapters

Book 2 Moonrise
Interlude 1: The Summoning
Book 3: The Song of Twilight
Book 4: Trials Within
Book 5: Trial of the Wryms
Interlude 2: The Story Untold
Book 6: The Nine Pillars
Book 7: Temptation I
Book 8: Temptation II
Book 9: Temptation III
Book 10: Temptation IV
Book 11: Temptation V
Interlude 3: The Question
Book 13: Chaos
Ends and Beginnings
Prophecies
Author Notes
Book 1 Dawn
Book 12: Temptation VI

Book 2 Moonrise

Book 2: Moonrise

The forest slept under the harsh glare of the Sun. However, when night fell and the eye closed, the Sun to closed its eyes and rested. So at night the forest reclaimed what it lost during the day. This tug of war persisted for many cycles, but the Sun was happy to keep it contained and such did not push further than need be. The Sun was wrong.

While the Sun rested, the forest and its tender did not. To keep the Sun unaware it pushed its boundaries each night, while building its own army. The wolves which dared call the forest home were infused by it, their lustrous pelts replaced with corrupted bark, becoming both tree and creature. Others lost their identify, being merged together into an abomination unto the all seeing. The beast worked its crafts, waiting for the time to lash out.

On the new moon, when both eyes of the all seeing were closed, the forest released its agents unto the world to sow its will. The chaos the agents wrought in the night strengthened the forest, but it did not show its hand yet. Content to let the Sun get complacent. With its new strength the tender of chaos found it could enter the dream realm of the tribes and the tribes suffered horrible nightmares.

The Sun , who had so removed itself from the other tribes was unaware of their suffering, focusing itself on the forests advances instead. The tribes fought, old tensions ran high again, mistrust sowed by the forest in the dreams of the tribes festered and grew. Harmony was lost. The forest laughed. The Sun decried itself for having been so blinded by its duty that it had failed at it.

The Sun raged against the forest, pushing it further back then it had ever done. The sun seared the agents of chaos, removing the taint from their bodies. Those to far gone to save, were blessed instead with immolation. The Sun burnt bright and hot, so hot that it burnt itself out. Its powers spent. The tender laughed, showing its hand. Nightmares became reality, the forest grew, engulfing the bastion of the Sun while it recovered. The right eye of the All Seeing would not open, could not open until the Sun recovered. The land was bathed in nighttime eternal.

When the Sun did not rise, the agents of chaos moved freely about the world, doing their master's will.
Insidious spirits assaulted the tribes, born from the dreams of the tribes. Mischievous imps composed of pure magic, twisting the spells of the magic tribe, redirecting their target to those of the other tribes. Savage beasts manifested from the polar north winds, bringing with them the intense cold of their bodies. The more havoc they caused, the stronger and colder they became. Lumbering amalgams of rotting flora and fauna, spreading corruption as it went. Nothing grew, nothing lived within its wake. These new creatures, along side the other minions, marched upon the tribes, intent on causing more chaos and discord to fuel their dark master. The tribes, unable to stand together, fell and were once more scattered.

The magic tribe, full of hubris refused to believe their spells could miss their marks rained bolts of radiant energy onto the forest’s minions. The imps cackled and proved the fallacy of the magic tribe’s thoughts. The bolts all struck true, felling what they hit. Felling the forces of the unblessed and weather blessed, thinning their ranks. Fearing attacks from the back, the other tribes turned on the magic tribe, striking them down with impunity, as they believed the magic tribe had done to them. The tender laughed, strengthened by the infighting, his forces likewise strengthened, pushing the attack.

Skilled in battle, afraid of no foe, the weather tribe used their blessing and attacked from the sky, focused on taking back the weather from the frozen fiends who plagued their cloud homes. They dove in tight phalanxes, driving the nightmares together, surrounding them for a killing feast. The winds howled, the discord from the magic tribe’s ill-fated assault fed the hungry winds. Pooling their frozen might, the polar beasts struck out, freezing the attacking weather tribe soldiers where they flew. Their greatest warriors fell. Their greatest warriors shattered on the ground. Their greatest hope died upon the now frozen ground. The tribe’s lament was like a dinner bell to the dark monsters and the feast of carnage continued.

Stubborn as the land they tended, the “unblessed” or Earth tribe as they now called themselves refused to yield to the beasts. Their strength and durability earned from working the land for time immemorial proved to much for the lesser wolves and chimera fielded by the forest, but their headstrong nature caused them to push when they should have held. Having such success against the lesser creatures they assaulted the horror made of their fauna and their fields. Their slings struck true, but the beast continued unabated, adding to its mass the bodies of the slain, gaining their resilience. Frustration grew, amplified by the unprovoked attack by the magic tribe, the earth forces rushed the beast, war cries on their lips. They touched the walking corruption and feel where they stood. They touched the corruption and the corruption touched them. They touched the corruption and became the corruption. The harbinger of the forest’s wrath marched on. The earth tribe scattered, running for their lives.

There was a fourth tribe, the thrice-touched, made up of all the other tribes, from which the Sun itself had ascended. They had learned from the last time the land revolted and stood united against the horrors. The magic users embraced their original talents, channeling their magic through songs to warm the hearts and bolster the strength of their forces. The imps could not redirect the spells, for the magic tribe nightmares that spawned them had only feared offensive spells, not songs of power. The polar fiends tried freezing the thrice-touched, but the warmth of the spell and of their united harmony diminished their power. Spears and slings from the soldiers slew the imps and scattered the winds. Those that survived broke from the will of their master and fled the field. All that remained was the monstrous beast that had gorged itself on the fallen. Unable to touch it the forces threw all the magic bolts, slings, and spears they could, none slowed its inevitable progress. The forest fed on the despair of the thrice-touched, for theirs was the sweetest, proving to it that not even harmony could stop him.

Desperate for relief they sent an emissary to the Bastion of the Sun, hoping something could be done to bring the Sun back to them. The one they sent was the younger sister of the sun, barely old enough to remember when the ascension happened. She sought her sister, more fearful of what had happened to her than of the discord running rampant through the land. The forest had engulfed the fortress, surrounding it with its most fierce guardians and treacherous obstacles. She pushed on despite these challenges. Her loyalty to family, to friends and the honest pledge that she would return with aid bolstered her. What memories of her sister she had were of kindness and laughter, they warmed her from the cold darkness of the forest. Battered and bruised she arrived at the castle, ready to free her sister.

The emissary was shocked at what she found upon arriving. The sun had truly fallen, no longer was its hair the luster of dawn, but a flat gray. The warm glow that warmed one from within had faded to nothingness. Features gaunt and tired, barely recognizable to her sister. She prayed to the All Seeing, ready to give generously of herself, all of herself if need be to revive the Sun, to revive her sister. Like her sister she was not marked by any of the tribes, but still she tried to use magic as her tribesman used. The All Seeing wept for a second time at this love filled feat. The tears from her left eye struck the sister, igniting a spark of magic deep down inside of her. Another became marked of all the tribes. Another one ascended. The Moon rose. The All Seeing was further diminished.

Renewed the sister, now the moon, looked upon her sister, now more so than she was before. The cool refreshing moonlight, the same that renewed those that slept emanated from her body, renewing the Sun. Her features returned. Her radiance was renewed; the sun also rose that day. The mystic bound between them now allowed the Sun to see what the Moon had seen, know what the moon knew. The sun was shocked at what had transpired while she slept and despaired at her foolishness. The Moons calmed her sister’s worries and together they departed for the battlefield, hoping that they’d not be to late.

The defenders fell before the abomination, now larger than the magic tribes fabled castle. Flagging from exhaustion, losing hope, yet still they fought on. When the last of their reserves were utterly spent, they found their hope renewed. The coolness of the night, the restfulness of slumber imbued them, their strength returned. Their emissary returned, the moon shown brightly upon them, their wounds healed. They fought on, protected from the corruption’s touch by the soothing balm of the moon’s light. Bolts of lunar energy struck the beast, slowing its advances, but it would still not stop and the trice-touched would not yield. The stalemate continued.

The dawn came at last. The Sun rose, fully restored. The radiance burnt away the corruption, searing the blight from the land. The Moon soothed the land, restoring life to it. The beast’s strength and size diminished, the dark master seeing the inevitable withdrew its influence from the abomination. The abomination, no longer with a guiding will, no longer with a binding force fell apart, seeping into the land. The Forest’s roots still ran deep drank the energy back into itself. The dark one once again bidding its time waiting for the next sign of weakness, waiting for the next game to start.

The thrice-touched pledged their services to the sisters and to the restoration of the land, so harmed by the conflict. The other tribes fled the land, done dealing with the cursed forest and blighted lands. They made their new homes far a field in a land not as fertile, not as rich as the one they left, but it contained none of the malignant malice that had so plagued them for generations in the old land. Once again, the precarious peace descended upon the three tribes. The northern winds howled in the mountain passes; some nightmares are harder to destroy than others.

Interlude 1: The Summoning

Interlude 1: The summoning

A mysterious summons from her teacher, a private escort from the royal guards, a request to bring only herself and not her friends. All of this made the lavender pony now rushing through the halls of Canterlot castle very, very nervous. “Did I do something wrong?” she thought to herself. “Is equestrian in danger again?” the latter thought leaving her mind almost as soon as it entered. “No, if there was trouble we’d need all of my friends. We’re far stronger together than alone.” Slowing her pace to a trot, Twilight Sparkle, personal protégé and student of Princess Celestia let out a drawn out sigh, going over the message again in her head.

My faithful student,

I have something to discuss with you. It is a matter of great importance, but also a very private one. Please come alone, Spike will watch the library in your absence. My two swiftest guards will be arriving shortly to transport you to the castle. I await you within my private study.

- Princess Celestia

She rolled the content over and over inside her head trying to discern a hidden meaning, some clue to why she was here. Navigating on autopilot while being so engrossed in dissecting the missive that the young mare barely noticed she had arrived at her destination. Taking a deep breath to steady her thoughts she prepared to meet her teacher. A slight purple glow covered her horn as the unicorn moved the knocker and announced herself. “Princess Celestia, I Twilight Sparkle have come according to your summon and would seek permission to enter your private study.” She gritted her teeth, waiting for the response. “Was she angry? Was she sad? Was she…” A melodies chuckle came from the other side of the door as a brief golden glow encased the door, opening it. “Happy?” Confused further, Twilight entered the study.

“Oh Twilight, you don’t have to be so formal with me. I asked you to meet me here, besides, you should know by now that you are always welcome in my private study.” “But…But.. Princess” the much smaller mare stammered, “You are my teacher and the ruler of Equestria, I need to show you the respect you deserve.” Releasing a slightly exasperated sigh, the Alicorn shook her head, her mane, all the colors of the dawn flowing about in the motion. “You never change, do you Twilight?” Looking like foal caught raiding the cookie jar, Twilight was lost for words. “Calm yourself, I believe its time I got to the purpose of this meeting.” The princess beckoned Twilight over to a cushion with the gentle pointing of her wing.

Sitting down, Twilight spoke again, “Did I do something wrong Princess?” she asked in a timid voice that would have seemed more likely to have come from Fluttershy than Twilight. Taken slightly aback, the princess once again shook her head, “Nothing of the sort my little pony. I have something very important to show you, and one that I believe you will find most intriguing.” As she finished, her horn glowed a faint golden color, levitating a large ornate book over, setting it in front of where they sat. “This is why I called you here, as a scholar and lover of books I thought you would be most interested in this one. Its from my private collection.”

Reading the title, the unicorn’s eyes grew larger than should be physically possible. Awash with amazement, and poorly hidden eagerness she turned to her head, “Thi…This is the Holy Covenant of the Triumvirate. I thought all of the copies were lost….Can….Can I read it?” Giving the largest puppy dog eyes possible she looked pleadingly at her mentor. “Yes you may, that is why I called you here, I thought you would like to read it. However, as it is so rare, I request that you read it here, with me”. All of the words after the yes; fell on deaf ears. Twilight had already begun to read before the Princess had even finished talking. Smiling sweetly the Princess levitated over a cup of tea from her table, took a sip, and watched her student eagerly devour the rare tome. Thinking to herself if this was really the right thing for her to do.

Book 3: The Song of Twilight

Canto 1: Harmony

Those that remained after the Exodus of the three tribes joined with the Thrice-touched and named the sister’s their leaders, giving each the title of Princess, neither would be queen. The Bastion of the Sun was cleansed of the forest and renamed the Castle of the two Princesses. Here they would watch over not only the forest but also the land. Not turning a blind eye to their people again, lest the forest repeat its same insidious game. The sisters, realizing what had gotten the tribe through the conflict renamed them the Harmony Tribe, signifying the unification of the three blessings in a single group. Harmony settled around the castle, living within nature to allow it to recover. The warriors of the Harmony tribe pledged martial loyalty of themselves and their bloodlines to the Royal sisters, becoming their guards and escorts when they left the castle. While not needed, the sisters accepted this act of kindness and loyalty.

The princesses, finding themselves now eternal watched as the tribe grew, the land recovered, and the forest slept. They watched as those of their bloodline also took ceremonial royal titles, the oldest, unbonded taking the title of “Prince”. They watched and waited, content in the peace, using their powers as need be to aid not just the Harmony tribe, but also the other three tribes. The Sun, unbeknownst to them aided the magic tribe in raising the sun each day, taking upon itself the role the All Seeing once did. The Sun warmed the land during the fertile growing season for all tribes, and their farms prospered. The Moon also took on the role of the All Seeing in raising the Moon each night, subtly aiding the magic tribe. At night, when all the tribes dreamt, the Moon would go forth into the dreams and inspire the tribes. Bringing creativity to the artisans, insight to the scholars, and renewal to the laborers. The ages passed and by the work of the Harmony tribe, the Sun, and the Moon, the land was restored.

Canto 2: Radiance

This was the first conflict of Sun and Moon. The Sun, burns hot, fueled by powerful emotions, was prone to even stronger convictions. With the land restored the Sun wanted to go forth and return the three tribes back to the land, joining them with the Harmony tribe into a single nation. Still thinking of the forest, which had remained far to quite for her taste, still thinking of past conflicts. The Sun could not forget, would not forget, would not forgive the forest for all the pain it caused and would do anything to keep it from happening again. Thus the Sun was willing to use her awesome powers if need be to unite their people. Too forge an army and cleanse the forest from the land for good. She would lead the effort, searing the fiends without remorse; razing the corrupted trees and plants to the ground; and immolating whatever foul beast tends the abomination. The Moon saw only folly in this.

The Moon spoke out against her sister’s plan. Such a forced unity would only invite chaos. She had been in the dreams of the tribes and knew what discord and mistrust still lurked in their minds. The magic tribe was still feared, the weather tribe still loathed, and the earth tribe still stubborn. None would willingly unite with the others. The Sun would not relent; the forest had caused too much damage. Its destruction was their purpose. The Moon tried to soothe her sister’s rage, saying that in time the tribes would willingly unite. The Sun refused to wait, the time was now. The angrier the Sun got, the longer and hotter the days became. The harmony tribe suffered, all the tribes suffered. The forest grew stronger.

Finally the Moon had enough and, using their joined link through the All Seeing, showed the Sun what awaited it. Visions of parched land, burnt crops, the tribes at war with each other flooded the Sun’s mind. Appalled, the Sun spoke out that that was what she was trying to prevent. This was the forest’s goal! This is why the tribes needed to unite. The moon spoke not, just opened both their eyes to the eyes of the All Seeing, seeing what it saw. It was not the future that they had shared, but the present. The desolation was real and now linked directly to the All Seeing, the Sun saw how it had happened. The Sun collapsed, weeping at what it had caused. Her anger had once again clouded her judgment and now; she was no better than the forest she had strove to defeat. The Sun cooled; the rains returned; the land revived.

The land had healed, but the hearts of the tribe had not. They blamed each other for the blistering heat wave, only the Harmony tribe kept united. Seeing how easily the tribes had come to blow, the Sun acquiesced to the Moon’s judgment that forced unification would not last. The Sun, still shaken, insisted something had to be done. There would be a time where the tribes would need to be united; they had to find a way to bridge the gap. The Moon agreed and to learn of the tribes’ histories over the millenniums since the exodus, they dispatched emissaries to each of the three tribes. To the Magic tribe they sent one of their foremost scholar; to the weather tribe, the captain of their aerial guard; and to the earth tribe, their strongest farmer. So dispatched, the sisters awaited their return. Far to the north, the polar winds howled.

Canto 3: Magic

The Magic Tribe had built themselves another magnificent castle with their abilities, secluded from the Earth tribe by a forest and nestled next to the mountains where they harvested the gems and ore used to make their elaborate decorations and jewelry. As before, the tribe had enthroned a royal family, who had absolute control of the tribe. The emissary was welcomed by the tribe, but was not trusted. Called before the king he was ordered to show his spells or face execution. He performed immense feats of magical prowess for them, proving he was not a spy from the other tribes, marked to look like the Magic tribe. In exchange for showing them his spells and teaching their younglings, he was granted access to their history and regaled with their legends.

The tribe’s oldest legend was of their founding. The “First Blessed”, said to be the son of the All Seeing descended to guide the tribe. Sharing with them the blessing and marking them with its power. He was their first king, one from which all of their other kings are said to be descended. They treat their kings with reverence like all do the All Seeing herself, as if the king themselves are the All Seeing. The legend talks of the Dark Time, where the Sun abandoned them and their King saved them with a spell lost to the ages. The spell transported them to the Promised Land, where the castle was built. Inside the deepest vault, only accessible by the royal family, it is said, lies the Mark of the “First Blessed”, the most holy relic of the tribe. When each prince comes of age, they are brought before the relic to be judged. If they are not judged worthy, they are stripped of their title and banished from the castle. Only those blessed by the “First Blessed” have the right to rule.

The Emissary listened to their stories, to their history and learned about the tribe. He shared the stories of the Harmony Tribe; stories of the blessed sisters, of the polar spirits, of a united tribe. Many took these as fairy tales or the ramblings of an old man. Some, like the handmaiden to the princess, took interest in the idea of a united tribe, but most ignored him. One day the emissary approached the king, to see how he took to the idea of a united tribe. The king scoffed at the idea. His people had been blessed by the All Seeing directly, they did not need to consort with the lesser tribes. They had been given the holy task of opening and closing the Eyes of the All Seeing. This was proof of their destiny to rule over the other tribes. They would unite, but only with the Earth tribe as their serfs and the Weather tribe their servants. None would rule but them. Disappointed and disheartened, the emissary departed for the Castle of the Sisters to make his report. The Polar winds howled.

Canto 4: Weather

The captain found the sprawling cloud city of the weather tribe high above the ground, where only the weather blessed could tread. Placed at the conflux of the wind currents, the city gave them view and access to the entire area. The warrior tradition and nature of the tribe had not changed over the millenniums, if anything it had gotten stronger. The emissary was met by drawn weapons; not open arms. Dragged before the high commander, ruler of the tribe, he was forced to fight the commander’s honor guard in a gladiatorial game. Each fight went until the opponent could not stand; no killing was allowed, they did not want to lose good warriors to these games. He had been raised to be a guard of the princesses since birth, as his father before him and father before him; he fought well, felling the warriors sent against him. Having worked the fields along side the Earth-blessed, the captain had superior stamina and resilience than these warriors who only trained against each other. Still, each fight tired him more, sapping his reserves. Finally he collapsed, expecting to be imprisoned and kept for further “games”, to further entertain the weather tribe. What created the Emissary when he opened his eyes was a soft cloud-bed and rather luxurious quarters. He had so impressed the High Commander, that he was “granted the privilege” of training the honor guard.

While the captain had no choice, he took the opportunity presented to learn of the Weather tribe’s history since the exodus. From the honor guard he found out the story of how the city had been founded. It was said, they say, that long before the city, their greatest warriors, thirsting for more battles, a better trial, assaulted the All Seeing and wrest control of the weather from her. She fought back with polar winds to freeze them; lightning to sear them; and driving rain to blind them. All but two warriors, twin brothers fell under the assault. The two brothers fully gained control of the weather and returned to their tribe, blessing them as they had been blessed by usurping the power. The warriors lost were mourned, but the brothers, using the winds, led the tribe to the conflux of the winds and built at it the city. While they lived, none could best them. While they lived, they ruled. Since then, it has been only the strongest that leads the tribe. Anyone can challenge the current ruler, but the Right of Rule battles are to the death. Only one will remain alive.

As the captain settled into the life in the clouds, he eventually took a wife, the older sister of one of the honor guard he trained. When his wife became pregnant, he learned that all children are judged when they come of age; those found unable to use the weather blessing are disgraced, forbidden from becoming warriors, and forced to work as servants to their betters. She was hopeful that their child would be as strong as its father, but worried that it might take after her youngest brother, who she had not heard from since the test. This realization affirmed his plan to take his wife and child, once born back to the Harmony tribe, away from such a barbaric trial. The time passed and the weeks before the birth, he finally approached the High Commander about the thought of unification. The ruler seemed pleased, heartening the captain. He grinned, perhaps was now the time to make war and conquer the other tribes, uniting them under the banner of the weather tribe. None could stand against them; they had fought the All Seeing and won. Stunned the captain was dismissed with a thank you; the High Commander had to gather his advisors and plan the assault. Contemplating what had transpired, the captain heard the North Winds howl, felt their primal rage. Remembering the stories told to him at young age, he had to warn the Princesses of both the looming threat and the possible war. His wife, in no state to travel would have to remain. He would return once his duty to the Royal Sisters was complete. He left a single flower next to her bed, one he had brought with him from the Harmony Tribe. The polar winds howled louder.

Canto 5: Earth

The Earth-blessed was the last to arrive among the other tribes, for he did not have the magic or weather blessing to speed his travel. The land he found the Earth Tribe on was a good land. While not as fertile as his tribe’s land, it had rich dark soil and he could see why they settled there. His arrival at the height of the growing season was a blessing. The Earth tribe welcomed him with open arms. Food was plentiful and they could not turn away a traveler. For his part, the farmer offered to help in the fields; the Earth Tribe, while stubborn, required each to do their part and allowed their guest to help. The knowledge of weather patterns he had gained from working side by side with the Weather Tribe and the potions for protecting the crops garnered from the research of the Magic Tribe, the farmer shared with the Earth Tribe. If they had a bumper crop, he thought, then food would not be an issue and unity a step closer. For his part and the hard work of the Earth Tribe, the harvest was good that year, better than any could remember. The tribe rewarded the farmer with a great gift for his efforts. They gave him a small parcel of land and with it, a voice on the council. With in the Earth Tribe, all males of a certain age, that have land of their own, have a voice on the council. Have a voice in how the tribe is governed. Even still, one among them is elected every other harvest to be the final voice.

With his position on the council, the farmer was no longer considered an outsider and the others in the tribe freely talked with him. From these conversations he found how they came to this land. Long ago there was a cataclysm, where their Goddess, the Sun fought the forces of chaos. The dead rose from the ground; the skies rained ice and fire; and the land wept blood. A prophet rose among them, organizing the scattered tribe, and lead them from certain doom, to a land of plenty. It is said he was blessed by the Sun, and from her guidance found this land. They settled the wild forests and plains, taming the fauna, becoming their shepherds as the prophet commanded. He laid down laws to preserve their tribe. “All will work, none shall stand idle”. “All who hold land shall have a voice”. “All brought from the land is the tribes, none shall lay claim to it, even if it came from their land”. “Those with no land shall work communal land”. It is from these four laws that the tribe’s current government is founded. The elected chancellor was added for when the issues so divided the council that no majority could be reached. From the first law, the farmer inquired “What of the Sick or Infirm, where do they work?”, he had never seen anyone, but the wizened council elders or those in the peak of health. The farmer was told to put it out of his mind.

This did not sit well with the farmer, but he could follow it no further; the time of the “trade” had come. It was this time that the other tribes would send their agents to collect their food for the coming cold season. The Earth tribe hid the surplus harvest in cellars, keeping only half of it out. The first to come was the Weather tribe. They demanded their “Tribute” for the rains they brought to raise the crops. The council presented them with one third of the portion left out. The weather tribe was aghast at the portion. “We bring you rain! We command thunder! Yet you give us only this?” The weather-blessed emphasizing their words with cracks of thunder from the clouds they raveled on. “The harvest was not as good as hoped, our fields still recover from the drought you caused last season. Take your portion and go”. “We did not cause the draught, blame the magic Tribe. They control the sun”. Saying their piece, the weather tribe took the food and left, making a parting shot of lightning damage one of the empty silos. The scene repeated itself with the Magic Tribe. The council presented the food; the Magic Tribe protested; the council blamed them for a poor harvest; the Magic Tribe blamed the weather tribe and destroyed another building as they left. The farmer approached the council after the “Trade” and asked why they had lied. Why they could not have shared the bounty. Perhaps then , the tribes could unite and work together, instead of apart. The council laughed heartily. “The weather tribe and the Magic tribe do not work the land. They refuse too, therefore they do not get the full boon of the land. They would have us as their servants or slaves if we did not keep them underfed. We are the true power in this land, with out us; they and their lauded ‘Blessings’ are nothing! We will not unite until they toil along side us and earn their keep as we all do”.

The farmer left the council in anger. How could they be so blind, so uncaring, so stubborn. He wandered the land, past where he had gone before; he found the answer to his question on the laws. Before him was a building, isolated from the rest of the village by over two dozen full fields. Inside he found a lone, aging woman tending to scores of sick people, men woman, and children. “What is this place?” “This is where all the sick in the village are sent” came the reply. The caretaker explained; all who fell ill or were deemed to weak to work the land were sent here. If they recovered, they could return. If they did not, she explained, then, with a spread of her arms, they remain here. Before the two of them was a vast graveyard, that the building had hidden from view. “Most do not leave, we are given only the minimum by the council”. Sorrowful, the farmer left, only to return the next day with his entire share of the harvest. The council had been generous with his part for the help he had provided. All of it he gave to the “Ward” as it was called. He returned day after day, regaling the children with stories of his travels and of the Harmony Tribe. One young girl took to the stories of the Harmony Tribe with great interest and vigor, questioning the farmer whenever he visited. As he left one day, to return to his home, the captain of the guard found him, informing him of what he had heard on the winds. Fearing for those in the “Ward” and his own tribe, the farmer joined the captain in his flight back to the Princesses. To the North, the polar winds howled louder.

Canto 6: Gathering Storm

The three emissaries returned to the Harmony Tribe, the farmer and captain arriving together. All three informed the Royal Sisters of the deep-seated mistrust, of pending wars, of greed, and of the resurgence of the polar spirits. The last point worried the Sun the most. Had the minions of chaos been allowed to grow strong again? Would they renew their assault? The sisters dismissed the three with their thanks and mulled over the revelations. The Sun, true to her nature wanted to rush to the north and slay the fiends before they could do any harm. The Moon wanted to continue, to observe. Thus began the second conflict of the sisters. The Moon continued its apparent apathy, preferring to let the tribes work out their problems; treating the polar spirits as a test for them to overcome. The Sun, ever emotional, wanted to protect, to guard the tribes, and slay the agents of chaos. Tensions in the castle ran high. Apathy and emotion conflicted. The forest grew strong from the turmoil, the body of the beast growing larger. The Polar spirits grew stronger, feeding on the princesses disagreement.

All came to a head one day, when the Sun could bear to wait no longer. She prepared herself to leave for the North, where she would put an end to these fiends before they could do anything. Preparing herself to give what is needed to stop them. The Moon, remembering what she had seen before the ascension, the drained, corpse-like body, could not let that happen again. Confronting her sister, the Moon reminded the Sun of its past folly, of its past failure. The Sun seethed at that memory “I know better. It will not happen again”. Dismissing the concern, brushing her sister aside with a wave of magic the Sun prepared to leave. With no other choice, the Moon once again invaded the mind of her sister. This time not with the eyes of the All Seeing, but the eyes of a sister. The Moon opened her mind, her heart to the Sun, letting flood all of the feelings, the sites she saw, when she found her sister, so drained, so ragged those long ages ago. Shocked by the raw feelings, the Sun halted, the rage in her heart cooled. “What would you have us do then? Stand idly by as these beasts destroy what we have worked for?” “No, as before, we will send the three. They will investigate, monitor, and advise us”. The Sun, still shaken agreed and the three were once again dispatched. This time to the far North, with instructions to observe, contain, and report what they found.

The Sun watched and waited for their reports. The first arrived and relieved their immediate concerns. The polar spirits were scattered still and they had become solitary, unorganized entities. The three were asked to maintain their vigil. Unbeknownst to her sister, the Moon hatched a plan. Using the reports of the three, she touched the dreams of each of the younglings the three had mentioned; the Scholar’s student, the Captain’s daughter, and ill girl saved by the farmer. To each she bolstered their own convictions; bathed their wounds in the balm of the moon; and shared with them the prospect of unity. As they grew, the Moon joined their dreams; letting the three experience life as a united tribe. Also, as a gift to the Three who still stood vigil, she joined their dreams with each of the younglings. The Scholar taught his student more powerful magics, sharing his experiences in the North. The Captain was given a chance to learn of his daughter, to share in her life. Neither her or her mother blamed him for leaving, they knew he had greater duties to the world. Lastly, the farmer shared more techniques with the recovered girl, who happily took to them.

Two decades into the vigil, the communications stopped. The last communication talked of heavier snow and colder winds. The Polar Spirits had united. Nothing was heard from the Three, and the Sisters grew restless. Their fears were realized one day; when the farmer returned, badly frostbitten, near death, dragging litters with the bodies of his companions, each frozen solid; entered the castle’s grounds. His last act complete he fell, joining his companions in death. The sorrow at their passing was immense; the Moon felt it the most. Had she sent them to their deaths? Should she have let her sister act on her original idea and destroy them sooner? Doubt clouded her mind; she prayed her gamble and the seeds she had planted would grow. Eternal winter descended on the three Tribes. The polar beasts howled, the forest’s laughs joining the chorus.

Canto 7: Seeds of Unity

The Sun’s radiance could not pierce the storm clouds. The Sun could not warm the hearts of the suffering tribes. The Sun was powerless; the Polar Spirits had gotten to strong, feeding on the disunity of the three tribes. The Moon could touch only the dreams of the three seeds she planted; the others would not respond. At wits end, the Moon confessed her gambit to the Sun. Telling her of what she had done. Together they hatched a plan; the Sun would, through the Moon’s link, nurture these seeds and through them, guide the tribes back here. The Royal Sisters used their link and planted the idea of a summit into the minds of the three, now consultants to their respective rulers. The summit was held; the tribes gathered; the arguments returned. Each tribe railed, airing their issues; each blaming the other tribes for the storms. The summit ended with things worse then before. Neither tribe would work with the other. The storms grew worse; the tribes allegations grew more fierce; the Polar Spirits grew stronger. The tribes chose to abandon their homes; leaving the storm behind; the storm followed them.

Each tribe’s ruler took their advisor and a small contingent to locate a new land for them to claim. The Sun and Moon used this chance to guide the parties back to them, to harmony. Each group was not alone however; a Polar Spirit stalked each, the original ones who had fled the battle so many millenniums ago. The sisters had the tribes take separate paths, lest they come into conflict before they arrived. Each arrived at the same time. Each claimed a portion of the land for themselves. All three tribes found each other, the conflict renewed. The leaders refused to share this new land. The beasts that stalked them sprung upon the conflict and brought the snow and cold forth, spreading the storm to this new land. The tribes ran for cover, all taking refuge in a nearby cave. The small space did nothing but inflame the tensions between the three rulers. Not even the words of their advisors or the touch of the Princesses could calm them. The storm grew stronger, freezing the rulers and the other ones in conflict solid. The Royal Sisters cast their strength into the three remaining advisors. The Sun warmed their hearts, bolstering their strength. The Moon renewed them, joining their thoughts again. The advisors bathed in the power, united against the storm. The seeds of unity blossomed; the spark was lit. Now seeing the storm for what it was; seeing it as the Polar Spirits; the three united their strengths and with the unknown help of the Sun and Moon, banished the spirits to the void. The surge of radiance, of warmth, of unity, thawed those frozen. From these seeds grew a united tribe.

Canto 8: Advent

The unification began with the founding of a single tribe. The advisors suggested a flag for the tribe, indicating their unity. On it, would be two beings, marked for each tribe, circling the two eyes of the All Seeing. The rulers agreed and so the tribe was founded. The three advisors journeyed to each tribe’s home and brought them to the new land. As each tribe joined, the unity grew stronger and the Polar Spirits grew weaker. The storms stopped, the beasts fled or were banished to the void. The Sun and Moon watched over the unification with a renewed happiness, not felt for many long years. They bade the Harmony Tribe to integrate themselves into the new tribe. Some did, others refused and stayed with their Princesses, with their family. The sisters too, disagreed on integrating themselves into the new tribe. The Sun wanted to descend upon the tribes, basking them in her glow. Leading them, guiding them, guarding them. The Moon wanted to remain on the sidelines, silently guiding the tribe during the night. Thus began the third conflict of Sun and Moon.

The Sun refused to stand idly by now that the long held goal was realized. They had united the tribes under the banner of the Two Sisters, their banner. They knew, she knew how best to guide the new tribe as she had been doing it for ages. No more did they need to lurk in the shadows, manipulating the dreams of others for their own end. They should present themselves, present their tribe and take the lead, as was their right, by the effort they had expended to see this through. The Moon lashed back at her sister. Should they descend like goddesses? Make themselves feared? They were Eternal, yes; but they could be injured, they could be killed. They were not Goddesses, only the All Seeing was a true Goddess. The unity was new; none would take well to self-styled goddesses coming down to rule them. The tribes were proud and would not take well to the thought they had been manipulated to join the Harmony Tribe. They would blame the sisters for the Polar Spirits, for all of their trouble. They would become hated. In time, the unification would firmly take root, then they would reveal themselves and if accepted, take the lead. Guiding, not guarding the tribes.

The Sun’s anger burst at her sister. They had manipulated the tribes, the Moon more so than herself. The Moon had no right to take the high ground. What she proposed was more manipulation, more passiveness. Primal magics bubbled around the Sun’s countenance. If the return of the Polar Spirits had shown anything, it showed that the forest and its minions still acted. No amount of passive action would stop them. They had gotten lucky this time. The Moon, noticing the barely contained energies reached out to her sister’s mind as she had done in the past. The touch was rebuked and the fiery backlash shook the castle, rendering the other occupants unconscious. One of the royal handmaidens, a distant niece to the Sisters, was in the garden when the wave hit and was spared. Fearing for the Princesses she rushed to their side. The Sun was appalled that her sister would invade her mind a third time and prepared a spell to teach her a lesson about getting to close to the Sun. The Moon, in turn prepared her strongest lunar soothing spell, one to calm the rage within her sister’s heart. The forest fed off the conflict and grew stronger.

The handmaiden burst into the audience chamber where the sisters were to find them fighting. Her voice did not reach them; they were so focused on their task. Seeing the energy building around each, the handmaiden rushed to intervene somehow. The Sun bathed the room in the fires of Midday. The Moon bathed the room in the serene calmness of the Full Moon. The young girl jumped between them. The spells collided with the handmaiden at the same time. Seared by the Sun, healed by the Moon; the handmaiden screamed, echoing throughout the castle. The sounds broke the Royal Sisters from their mental battle to witness what they had wrought. The flesh burnt from to the bone was then restored. The Sun and Moon could not stop their spells. The girl suffered until the magics burnt themselves out. The sisters bore witness to the cruel fate they had given to someone so innocent. The energies dissipated; the handmaiden fell; the handmaiden died with a scream etched on her face. The two sisters rushed to her side and gave of their very essence to the girl. The two sisters prayed to the All Seeing to undo what they had done. The two sisters offered to take on all of the lunar and celestial duties the All Seeing did if it would mean the girl could be restored. The All Seeing consented and gave more from herself; tears from both eyes struck the girl, mingling with the remnants of the spells and of the Sister’s essences. The body of the handmaiden glowed, bathing the room in a passionate, yet soothing purple. The residents of the castle awoke to the light. The Twilight had come to balance the Sun and Moon. A third rose, marked of all three tribes.

Canto 9: Balance

The newly ascended handmaiden was given the title of Princess and became a sister to the Sun and Moon. She was burning passion, tempered by serenity. She was limitless potential, focused by fiery devotion. Where the Sun and Moon clashed, each of opposite aspects to the other, she was both and neither. Having been blessed by both eyes she had become the balance between them. To the sun she gave a calming voice, which was both warm and familiar. To the Moon she provided a focus for her pursuits. In harmony they took on the new roles taken on from the All Seeing, the cost of bringing about the Twilight. The Sun to guide its namesake through the sky, setting its path each day, assuring the cycle remains uninterrupted. The Moon to shepherd the moon and stars; gaining and losing power as the moon itself waxed and waned. The Twilight easing the transition between Night and Day, Day and Night. Casting the world in the same soothing purple that had announced her assentation.

This cycle continued for many decades as the unified tribe flourished and grew. The sisters three, kept out of their affairs, focusing instead on the heavenly duties they had. Glimpses of them became rare and treated as momentous occasions. The tribe elevated the sisters to become the three aspects of the All Seeing, her Triumvirate. The three aspects of the All Seeing represent the six virtues of the All Seeing. The Sun is honest in its radiance and gives generously of its light and warmth. The Moon grants all the kindness of dreams, filling them with laughter. The Twilight is loyal to the others, always following them, always there to when both meet. All three are empowered by Magic, using it wisely to grant their boons. Their harmony blesses the tribe and protects them from harm.

Book 4: Trials Within

Turning back the clock to the dawn of unity, the focus shifts to the tribes. At the behest of the advisors, the united tribes took upon them the name of the Harmony tribe. Three parts had become one, what was broken had been made whole again. Such a reunification does not come without issue. Millennia of distrust; of suffering; of fear; of greed; of manifest destiny does not resolve itself over night. A blade that was broken and made whole can not be used again until it is tempered in fire.

Tribulation 1: Settlement

As more of the tribesman migrated to the new land an immediate problem presented itself. All but the Earth-born, as they now referred to themselves now, were not accustomed to living outside. Even then, the Earth-born had the sick and elderly who required shelter. At first the Weather-born and Magic-born agreed the sick and elderly should be sheltered over the others. However, as the numbers swelled, so did the shelters dwindle and arguments increase. Each tribe wanted the other to construct additional housing, as it was their tribesman who took up the most room. Tensions ran high and the new bonds were tested. Deep beneath the land the beast fed.

The three sisters watched, aware of the fragile peace; poised to intervene if need be; but hoping it would not be needed. The Weather-born were the first to act. Thinking only of themselves they hatched a plan to move their entire metropolis from the old land to the new one. Then, at least they, would have shelter. Leaving those unfit for the task behind, they left for the task, leaving the Earth-born and Magic-born to their own devices. The Moon, after consulting with the others once again touched the dreams of the tribes. The Moon granted them the inspiration to create; The Sun granted them the devotion and fervor to follow through; The Twilight merged them together with a purpose. For without a purpose creativity stands idle and devotion is meaningless. From this seed a city grew.

Plans were laid as the aesthetically minded Magic-born worked with the practical minded Earth-born to design a city for both. All that remained was to find a place to construct it. On the dawn of the equinox, when the Sun and Moon were in perfect harmony, they reached their answer. As the night faded a lone woman danced across the sky, beams of moonlight shrouding her form in an ethereal dress, as she alighted upon a cliff side. Shortly thereafter she was joined by a second, younger woman, from whom's back streamed wings of energy, mixing the color of night with the light of day. Finally, as the sun fully rose they were joined by an older woman who radiated primal power. The two older ones took to the sky, spiraling around the third, creating a brilliant rainbow as they vanished from sight. It was there the tribes decided to construct their city, believing the All-Seeing herself had sent her divine guidance to them.

Stone by stone, brick by brick, the city rose. The hardy Earth-born helped carry the blocks needed for the foundations and walls; the Magic-born, using their powers carved the blocks into every shape imaginable; and the Weather-born that remained, used their mastery of the wind to raise the blocks high. Together the spires of the central castle rose into the sky, piercing the clouds. It was to this sight that the absent Weather-born, with their city in tow returned to. Astonished at what had been accomplished in their absence, they laid their city at the convergence of winds in the area and joined the others to finish constructing the city. Upon its completion, all of the tribes were invited to stay. The Weather-born, still proud, chose to stay in the city they had so painstakingly moved. Some of the Earth-born stayed as well, many did not and took to the fields of the land as they had before; working it. A celebration was still held to commemorate the realization of the dream. On the following Equinox a grand party was thrown at the central castle, where all were invited. The Moon blessed the night with a glorious meteor shower and it was agreed that every year this celebration would repeat, to honor all they worked for.

Tribulation 2: Commerce

The Earth-born who tilled the fertile new land that first year shared of their bounty to everyone. For everyone had helped to construct the new capitol. The Weather-born and Magic-born thanked them for their generosity as otherwise they would have starved. It was a lean first winter and food was tight, but the harmony tribe survived. On the day before the spring equinox the three groups once again joined forces to speed the arrival of the growing season, ushering in the end of winter. The Earth-born cleared the ground of lingering snow, planting the seeds and seedlings needed for the crops. The Magic-born used their gifts to remove the snow and ice from the trees, rivers, and castle spires. Lastly the Weather-born cleared the lingering clouds to let the rays of the sun warm the air and ground. Watching this, the three sisters smiled; the Sun raising the temperature of her namesake to aid the tribe's endeavor.

The harmony displayed on this day and in the previous harvest would not last however. The three groups still had not melded enough to overcome all of their differences. The Weather-born still respected martial skills above all else; each member being given ore and precious metals, which they either traded for other goods or used to construct spectacular weapons and armor. The Magic-born likewise rewarded gems for services among their people. Not only were they used to adorn their cloths and homes as signs of prestige, but also some of them made exceptional foci for magical spells. The Earth-born were the opposite to the others. They had always shared the spoils of the work with all those who worked. If you worked you received a share, if you did not, you received nothing. If one needed anything they either made it themselves or worked for another who could, trading their own labor for the labor of the craftsman. As such the Earth-born had no use for the trinkets of the other groups. If the others wanted anything from them, be it food or a strong back, they would have to work for it.

The less physically inclined Magic-born, whom specialized in entertainment and artistic pursuits were left hungry, unable to meet the demands on the stubborn and plain Earth-born. The Weather Born fared differently. One member of the upper military crafted a plan for two organized groups among them; one would bring weather on demand, trading clear skies or rain for a portion of the harvest; another group would, using their enhanced speed, deliver goods and news across the land. The Earth-born readily accepted the aid of the first group, allowing for an accelerated harvest. The Magic-Born, while capable of transporting items with magic, could not do so over long distances with out exhausting themselves, utilized the second group to spread the news of their performances and to deliver the finery they crafted throughout the land. Thusly the Weather-born gained food to feed their people and precious metals and gems to adorn and craft into armor. The Magic-born were still left to barter more of their gems and ore for the extra food the Weather-born procured.

Unrest grew among the magic-born as they had been freed from controlling the celestial cycle and thus no longer had that to hold over the heads of the Earth-born for food. One of the elder mages saw what the Weather-born had done and himself, crafted a plan. Working tirelessly he crafted a series of enhancement spells. With them he could make blades and tools that did not dull for years; Rope and bindings that could take twice the strain; and balms, splints, and bandages which could heal injuries magnitudes faster than they would naturally. He organized his students into three groups; one for the enhancement of objects; another for healing draughts and tools; and the last to further the research. From this seed sprouted the answer the Magic-born had sought. The Earth-born, while normally hardy, still suffered injuries and the medicinal aid allowed the swift recovery of many. The Weather-born, always looking for an edge, readily traded for the enhancements for their armor and weapons, further strengthening their soldiers.

The three currencies; food, gems, and ore worked to maintain the united tribe. Seasons passed, years passed, the tribe survived. Still issues arose. When traveling a tribe member, regardless of their origin, could not anticipate what would be needed to barter for goods and thus either brought everything they would need, or relied on the kindness of others. The Twilight looked upon this system questioned her sisters.

“We three are marked of all the tribes, three things in one body. We three are all aspects of the All Seeing, united by her, three things in one spirit. The three tribes use three different goods to trade, could not a bit be used of each to make one? Three pieces to make one whole. Is this not what we strive for the Tribes as well?”

The elder pair saw the wisdom in the Twilight’s words and the three united to guide the tribes to this, as they had with the city. Each took on the form of one of the groups; The Sun took upon herself the guise of a Weather-born; The Moon shrouded herself as Earth-born; and The Twilight returned to pre-ascension as a Magic-born. Each approached the leaders of the respective groups, appearing as elder woman to be as least threatening as possible. The Moon spoke before the Earth-born council.

“We trade food for labor, but what of the times between harvests when there is no work to be done? How do we then barter for what we need? Would not a system like the Weather-born or Magic-born, which use gems and ore solve this? We could trade our food and labor for a trinket like those, saving them for when we need extra labor or better weather during planting or harvest. To store food for an occasion when we might need the aid would leave the food to rot.”

Using her magics the Moon opened the minds of the council to this idea, calming their fears before they could be voiced. The council saw the crone’s wisdom and agreed to meet with the other two groups to decide on a common currency. The Sun did not need such a speech as her sister as the Weather-born already used such a system. Instead she proposed to the High Commander that a universal currency, lighter than ore and gems would allow his brethren to move faster, accomplishing the missions faster and more efficiently. The commander agreed, that at the next Harmony council meeting, he would approach the subject. The Twilight spoke plainly to the king of the Magic-born of the necessity of the united currency. She spoke of using gems and precious metals as a reserve currency; there would never be more of the currency than valued in the central gem treasury. The king agreed.

As planned and promised, at the next council meeting, held each quarter at the equinox and solstice, the three leaders discussed the thoughts of a united currency. Each leader having forgotten the crone who told them of it, each believing they had come to it of their own thoughts. Together they agreed that each of their people would be given one third of the gems and ore to be used for the treasury, so that no one group would control it all. Taking a bit from each group a coin was made. A golden disk, enchanted with magic to never tarnish, emblazoned on one side the symbol of the Weather-born, the other the symbol of the Earth-born. The meeting ran late into the night as the plans were finalized. Another council was created, with ranking members of each group to control the currency, so that no group could gouge the others. The new group would meet monthly to air any issues or resolve any problems. The three’s work done, they left the gallery and departed for the castle. Those that looked outside that morning saw the same three women from the equinox those many years ago dancing through the sky, chasing the moon as the sun chased them.

Book 5: Trial of the Wryms

Book 5: Trial of the Wrym

Not all trials to strengthen a bond come from within. The most trying of them will come from outside. Testing all parts of the group. If one part fails, the entire group can fall. Real strength comes from the parts supporting each other, strengthening them, making the whole more than the sum of its parts.

The Harmony tribe having; organized itself under a ruling council; built a magnificent city; and finally came to a unified currency was settling into a normal rhythm. The Weather-born brought the rain and clouds when and where they were needed. The Magic-born crafted spells and elixers to aid the others. The Earth-born tilled the land and built settlements around their fields. Thus further cities were founded. Expansion, as always will bring people into conflict. It was such an expansion where the tribe encountered their first external conflict. They had stumbled upon the great Wryms. Giant sapient reptiles that could fly like the Weather-born; Use spells like the Magic-born; and even expel breaths of acid, fire, ice, and every substance imaginable.

Long thought of as legends among the tribe, these beasts were rare to see in person, almost as rare as spotting the three heavenly sisters. But all that changed a decade after the unification. Thousands of wryms erupted from the lands west of the Forest, which acted as the western most border of the land. They descended upon one of the communities in the gem rich mountains, decimating it with their breaths. Their fires razed the structures and liquefied rocks. What the fires did not melt, acid did. They tore into the mountains, ripping out the gems, gorging themselves on them. Sated, they rested, turning the cratered land into a magma filled proving ground. A lone weather-born was the only survivor, having just left after having delivered a message. With the swiftest speed she could muster the courier headed for the council chambers, now located in the cliff side castle, intent on delivering her new message.

Bursting into the room, she breathlessly told them of the horrors she had witnessed. She told of the massive ebon wrym who had been the first to spew his molten breath onto the settlement. Members of all of the groups had died in the onslaught, none had been sparred save for her and purely on luck. The High Commander immediately began to organize an expedition to expel these invaders and avenge their fallen. As news of the slaughter spread, and grew with each telling, recruits for the military expedition streamed in. Be in Earth-born, Weather-born, or Magic-born, all headed the call. Trained by the best the Weather-born had; outfitted with enchanted armor and weapons, crafted by the best the Magic-born had to offer; and provisioned with the best the Earth-born had grown, the newly formed army marched for the border.

The sisters were aghast at what had occurred. While the elder sisters had not seen such a large congregation of them, they had met the Wyrms in the past and they had not been as openly hostile. Normally they were solitary creatures, building hordes of gems and previous metals, the former which they ate. Very long lived, the few they had encountered were wise beings, who only defended what was theirs. Knowing the strength of the Wyrms, the Sun and Moon feared for the harmony tribe's new army. No amount of magic and weapons could stand against that many wryms. With great haste, the Sun herself made for the mountains, hoping a misunderstanding had occurred. The sky lit up with a fiery trail heralding her passage.

Arriving at the now volcanic area, the Sun searched for any Wrym she might know. Coming upon an immense matriarch, the princess recognized the brilliant purple scales and emerald back spines, it was one she had dealt with in the distant past, prior to the ascension of the Moon. Alighting on the edge she called out to the great creature, asking why they were here and not in their mountain lairs far to the west. He response was curt and to the point, the elder wrym remembering the Sun as well.

"This is one of our ancestral grounds, used on our centennial migration to the mountains far to the east of here. What reason do you have for being here?"

The Sun told the matriarch of what had transpired, how the people she guided and watched over had been living in this very area and had been destroyed by the Wryms landing here. The Elder was mystified, there had been no buildings, no settlements here, from the sky, the land was just as it had always been. The Sun, with new information to digest needed to meet with her sisters and figure out what had happened. On her parting, she informed the wrym of the marching army, intent on avenging their brethren. The matriarch gave the celestial sister her word that she would do her best to keep the others in line, but if they were attacked, they would respond in kind.

Blazing back to the castle, the Sun informed her sisters of what she had found. Distressed, the three agreed to a plan of action. The Sun, being the most powerful, would stay at the castle, to maintain the celestial cycle. The Moon would shadow the tribe's army, cooling their anger, trying to slow their inexorable march. Lastly, the Twilight would go to the only member of the tribe who saw the incident and try to discern what went wrong. The three in accord, left for their respective duties. The Sun remained behind, pacing the halls. Inaction was not in her nature, but the choice for her to remain was valid.

The Moon approached the army, deepening their slumber, enriching their dreams. The soldiers and their commanders slept later than normal, rising near dawn, losing many hours or marching time. Many who woke felt the fire in their hearts cooler than when they had gone to bed. The rage they had felt upon hearing of the unprovoked attack was still there, but was now tempered, clearing their heads. The commanders, seasoned warriors all, did not let this get in their way. They had been trained to follow the mission, to not doubt their orders. The high commander knew what he was doing. The army marched on, the Moon followed, preparing for the next option. At the castle, the Sun continued to pace.

The Twilight tracked down the courier, resting in one of the castle spires. She had been well taken care of since her report. Avoiding the normal guises the sisters wore when dealing with the tribes in person, she instead wore her normal form. As the moon set and sun rose she descended upon the balcony, landing with a flourish of purple light blending with the coming day. The arrival, as planned did not wake the sleeping woman. Using her magic to silence her footfalls, the Twilight approached the edge of the bed. Shrouding herself in her celestial raiment, twin bands of energy radiating from her back like wings, she woke the lone weather-born. Wrapping the room in a spell, preventing her light and words from leaving it she spoke, her voice like thunder.

"To prevent a war. To save the lives of both the tribe and the Wryms I must know what you know. I must see what you have seen. Will you let me into your mind? Will you allow me to delve into your memories?"

The shocked woman could only nod her head, still in awe of what she saw before her. This was one of the three sisters, one of the All-Seeing's Trinity, and here one was, asking for her help. The Twilight, seeing the nod, placed her hand onto the head of the weather-born, entering her mind. She turned back the clock, passing the telling and retelling of the incident until she reached the incident itself. The settlement was carved from the very rock itself, blending with the natural curves and environment. From the sky, it would have appeared as nothing but the mountain. She saw the Ebon wrym circle. She felt the awe of such a massive creature. She felt the panic when it let loose a burst of magma from its mouth, melting the buildings the courier had left moments ago. She heard the screams, cut short by the pyroclaysm. She felt fear, not the weather-born, she felt the primal fear. Not as atuned to mental diving as her elder sister the Moon, the Twilight had to pull herself back from the abyss, less she lose herself in the memory.

The shock of having been so close in minds, then being ripped apart disoriented the princess and caused the weather-born to collapse backwards into bed, drained. Regaining her composure, the Twilight thanked the woman, giving her a blessing of renewal. Recalling the incantation she had placed on the room, the Twilight left for their castle. She had to tell her elder sister of what she had learned and to consult her over the next course of action. Cloaking her presence, she sped home. Their she recounted the courier’s memories. The Sun was relieved that it truly had been a misunderstanding, but was none-the-less still concerned of the impending conflict. Speaking to her sister, the Twilight lamented that if only there was a way to show the sides what she had seen, to take them back to the event an clear up the misunderstanding. This ignited a memory of a spell in the Sun. One her Magic-born emissary had recorded prior to his fateful trip to the northern land; one that might work. Hastily the Sun delved into her archives and found the incantation and shared it with the younger princess. Memorizing it, the Twilight took off to the west, hoping to get there before any blood could be spilled.

Meanwhile, the Moon attempted her last gamble to dissuade the army from advancing on the Wryms. If they would not halt from doubt then perhaps they would halt out of fear. That night, the Moon invaded the dreams of all of the tribesman in the army. Polluting them with nightmares. Showing them the full might of the Wryms. They tossed and turned, wept and screamed as the demonic dreams tormented them. They were consumed, crushed, brunt, frozen, melted, maimed, and eaten. Over and over again the Moon forced this suffering onto them. Refusing to let them rise from the dreams and robbing them of any of the rejuvenating effects of slumber, the Moon found herself enjoying this morbid spectacle. Enjoying this level of control over the thoughts of others. Deep below the earth, the best of the forest drank of the despair and feasted on the malevolence the Moon was showing. Meanwhile, the Moon cackled, the sound of her own voice breaking her out of the trance she had found herself in. Sickened by what she had done, tears flowed from her eyes. She revoked all of the nightmares, removing their contents from the minds she had touched, bottling up that voice inside that had taken so much glee from it. Swearing to never embrace it again. The soldiers still tossed restlessly that night.

That morning the haggard tribesman awoke, most worse off then they had been before bed. Seeing this the veteran commander, himself exhausted, ordered each soldier to take two of the magically enhanced and crafted pills they saved for emergencies. These pills were packed with invigoration magic that melted exhaustion away and enhanced with medical powders that quickened the mind, sharpening the senses. The pills however, were not a miracle. If taken too often they would break down the body, draining years of usable life from the tribesman. This was why they were used only as a last resort. Swallowing the pills, each trooper felt instantly better and ready to march. Today they would reach the reptilian menace and put the fear of the All Seeing into them. The last gambit of the Moon had failed. The Twilight hurried to the pending confrontation as fast as she could with out draining herself, for she would need everything in order to cast the spell.

The army marched and the Wryms slept, unaware of the looming conflict. The forest’s tender drooled, preparing for the feast of flesh to come. Finally, the weather-born advanced scouts reported that they had spotted the Ebon behemoth that was their primary and initial target. They would launch their opening shot against this beast, striking fear in the other wryms. If they slew the greatest of them, the rest would scatter. With magic silencing their footfalls, the army advanced toward their foe. After attaining the range needed, the commander ordered the lance to be used. The lance was the most finely crafted weapon to come from any of the groups. Longer than three of the tribesman were tall, the lance ended in twin points, the entire length made of gleaming black metal. The weapon had been forged by both a Magic-born and Weather-born. The former enchanting the ore, metal, and weapon with all of the offensive enchantments and enhancements they knew. The latter folding the metal over and over, tempering it into the most precious and viscous of points. Together they had made a masterpiece, a weapon the boastful craftsman had said could slay a god. While not a god, the leviathan would put this boast to the test this afternoon.

Levitating the great spear, the entire armies Magic-born population prepared to launch the weapon upon their commander’s order. When the great Ebon wrym rose, turning towards them the command was given. In the blink of an eye the Magic-born let loose the divine arrow, leaving behind it a multi-hued wake from the combined magical forces. The beast had no chance to react before the lance pierced its thick hide, impaling it straight through the heart. The momentum of the spear pushed the beast through the air, pinning it to the side of the mountain. Its last roar echoing across the land, the only noise it was able to make. Rising to the sudden roar, the rest of the wryms spied their dying brother, their roars joining his own. Instead of scattering as the commander had hoped, the wryms, some even more massive than the one just slain prepared to attack. The battle was joined as the lesser wryms spewed gouts of magma, fire, ice, and poison at the army, most reflecting off of the protective barriers erected by the Magic-born, the rest being absorbed by the enchanted armor they all wore. Bolstered by their success, the tribes launched another attack, the scales of the wryms absorbing their attacks as their own armor has absorbed the wrym’s breaths. The Twilight felt the disturbance in the balance and hoped she would make it in time.

Enraged by the death of one of their own, the five remaining elder Wryms rose to the air, preparing to unleash their terrible wrath onto the lesser race who dared assault them. The Moon sensing the impending cataclysm of power erected her strongest barrier around the tribe. Barely in time, the barrier shunted the massive attacks to the side, shattering the barrier in its entirety. The lands around the army was laid to waste by the assault. Trees were frozen, melted, or both at the same time. Thousands of animals who called the lands their home perished. The tender drank of the draining life, preparing for the main course. The Behemoths, undeterred prepared another wave of their terrible powers. The tribes too, prepared their strongest spells and magically enhanced projectiles, hoping to fell another of the elder beasts. The respective barrages were launched, but did not collide. Between the two factions a brilliant woman appeared, forcing both assaults upwards, toward the heavens, both mingling together into an intense dance of devastation. The sky was carved in half by the torrent of powers, the night sky appearing after the passage of the terrible blast, the atmosphere displaced by the spells unleashed. The Twilight had arrived in time.

Drawing all of her strength together, channeling power shared to her by the Sun and the Moon, the Twilight cast her spell. Enveloping the entire area in mist, she obscured them from view and with a brilliant flash of light and crackling thunder, transported both sides to the day of the incident. She placed the tribesman in the air, to see what the wrym’s had seen, to see that the settlement had been obscured by its own instance on blending in. They saw the wrym’s circle twice, then engulf the land, creating their volcanic lair. For the wrym’s they saw the events through the eyes of the tribesman who had died in the assault. They saw the bustling mining village, living with the land. They felt the agony of being destroyed by the torrent they themselves had unleashed. Her spell complete, both sides were returned to the present. Exhausted from the exertion, the Twilight spoke.

“You have all seen what happened here. You have all looked through the eyes of the other side. Mistakes were made on both sides. Please do not make more. Look around you, the land weeps from the conflict. What was once full of life has had it all but extinguished. No more life need be lost this day”

The Moon, to punctuate the speech, spread a wave of calming moonlight, further cooling the rage and anger of both sides. The Purple titan was the first to speak, pledging that they would not push the assault if the tribesman did not push theirs. They had been at fault in the begging and would accept responsibility for their actions. The commander in turn pledged to withdraw, apologizing for letting their anger get the best of them and for the death of the Ebon behemoth. A small portion of the army requested to become vassals of the wryms, to learn about them so that other misunderstandings did not occur. The elders agreed, understanding the wisdom in understanding each other. The slightly diminished army left, making the long march home, weary of heart and weary of body. The wryms, removed the lance from the body, entombing their fallen brother inside the mountain itself. The great spear was given to the Twilight, for the elder matriarch felt the touch of the Sun in her and knew she could trust such a weapon in their hands. Mourning, the wryms departed for their destination far to the east. Preparing herself to leave, the Twilight was joined by the Moon, the latter who volunteered to carry the lance back to the castle as the former was more than exhausted. Out of the corner of her eye, the spent princess say an egg emblazoned with a flame pattern. Sensing that it yet lived, she took it with her. Life found among the ashes of destruction.

Upon their return and after a days rest, the three sisters combined their All Seeing given might to seal the weapon away, underneath their castle. Never would such a terrible item be needed again. Their task done, the Twilight presented the egg to her eldest sister, a gift for showing her the spell that saved the tribes. Under the warm embrace of the Sun, the egg would hatch into a near legendary bird, who, like the Sun, was a creature of primal fires. Deep beneath the land the Tender feasted. The blood of the slain wrym flowed into the land and was suffused with its hate and rage towards the lesser race who had struck it down. The forest lamented that for all the effort it had taken to turn the wrym to his cause, the millennia of subtle touches while it slept, it did not get as much use from it as he had hoped. Still, it was a useful pawn, no bishop. It had shown him the weakness found in the sisters, weaknesses he would exploit. In death it was also useful. Sending the roots of his forest to the tomb, he absorbed the corpse, dragging it to him. From this he began to craft a body. Something he had not had in many, many eons.

Interlude 2: The Story Untold

Interlude 2: The story untold.

The princess watched her eager student devour the rare book. Page by page she read, finding out the ancient history of the land. The Alicorn's horn glowed a slight gold as she used her magic to find out just where in the book Twilight was. Receiving her answer, Celestia's face darkened, the younger mare was fast approaching some of the darkest conflicts. Conflicts that lay rooted in a tale only the three sisters knew, gifted to them by the All Seeing. A story they had refused to tell the chroniclers. A story that she could not help but to remember. Walking over to a couch, she sat down and became lost in thought.

Book 0: Origins.

At the beginning of time there was created two forces to balance each other. The force of creation, to build the universe, shaping it as it so desired. The force of entropy, to destroy what was built so that creation could begin anew. With massive hands, Creation built myriad worlds. Each as unique as the last. Each in turn returned to base elements by Entropy. This cycle went on for eons. Planets were raised by Creation and planets were razed by Entropy. For every world created, another was destroyed, thus the balance was maintained. Until Entropy grew bored.

Tired of the endless exchange, Entropy created a series of games to keep itself amused. One where it would see how soon after Creation finished a planet, it could render it back to nothingness. Others where for every planet Created two would be destroyed. Another where it would not destroy entire worlds, just portions of them. These kept Entropy entertained for a time and Creation did not begrudge it to much as the destruction allowed it to create something new each time. All this would change however when Creation stumbled upon older worlds that had been left to grow. On these planets, life had taken been created and life had taken root.

Wondrous feelings filled Creation. Never had it felt this kind of joy. Never had it felt such an urge to nurture a planet. Enthralled, Creation began to watch these worlds intently, giving subtle touches to each when needed. It watched as the creations in turn created other things in a glorious cycle. In the background, Entropy grew bored again. Entropy grew tired of its duty. Entropy began to wonder, what would come of it if there was nothing to destroy. Would it's boredom end? Would it be free? Would the cycle begin anew, forever cursed to repeat for time immemorial? Entropy decided to find out.

Channeling all of the massive powers granted to it, Entropy released a cataclysmic wave that streaked across the universe. Everything in its path was rendered to base atoms. Worlds fell. Stars fell. Galaxies fell. Entropy found itself weakened, but more amused and entertained than it had ever been. Destruction on such a massive scale was thrilling. Creation was disgusted at such wanton destruction. Such overstepping of ones role. Try as it might, Creation could not stem the wave and the worlds it became steward of fell. Trillions of lives were snuffed out in an instant. Rage filled Creation. Raw, primal, terrifying to behold. Such was the rage Entropy found itself victim to.

Primal energies crackled around the continence of Creation, making stars pale in comparison. Sometimes sculpting worlds required things to be destroyed and this time what was required to be destroyed was Entropy. Channeling immense powers, Creation shattered the material body of its opposite. They were primal beings, eternals who could not die, so the spirit lingered. Not content to let the spirit roam free, it gathered the atoms and crafted an eternal prison for its foe. With walls as dense as star centers, it locked the diminished sprit inside and cast it into the deep void of space. Entropy could not die. Cursed to linger in boredom for all time.

Hundreds of eons passed. Creation rebuilt the universe and found new worlds where life took root. One such world drew the primal being's interest, one where sapient beings had taken root. These people had begun to worship a creation deity, treating the star that gave it light and the celestial body that controlled the tides as their god's eyes. Having created both, it felt a link to these people and began to aid them when they needed. Eventually Creation took the name of their deity and referred to itself as the All Seeing.

Broken out of her reflection by the gentle tapping of a black wing onto her shoulder, the princess of the sun realized her sister had joined her. Had she been so engrossed in the recollection that Luna had arrived with out her notice or had the fellow Alicorn used magic to silence her steps so as to not disturb her and Twilight? Luna looked at her elder sister, then at the purple mare on the floor, and then back to her sister with a look of worry etched on her face. Speaking softly, almost mentally the lunar princess reached out to her sister.

"Tia, I see you felt it was time for Twilight Sparkle to learn the truth of everything. The cause of everything. Do you think her ready?"

"I believe so Luna, she has been through so much in the past few years as you well know. She is stronger than sometimes I think I am. She is ready. I hope she is ready." Celestia sighed, looking back at her faithful student. "I hope so. I hope so"

Book 6: The Nine Pillars

The five virtues of the All-Seeing; Honesty, Generosity, Laughter, Kindness, and Loyalty. The three aspects of the All-seeing; The Sun, The Moon, and The Twilight. The one force of the All-Seeing; Magic. These are the three tenements of the All-Seeing. The nine pillars, which support all. These nine are not, however infallible. Submitting to honeyed words whispered in the dark can break these pillars. Under the sweetened glare of temptation: The honest will lie; The generous will covet; The Laughing will cry; The kind will hate; and the loyal will betray. Faced with sugared views: The Sun will set; The Moon will be eclipsed; and the balance will tip. When all eight fall, magic will break.

All contain the nine pillars, whether they know or not and all must endeavor to uphold them as the All Seeing upholds them. For as the All-seeing touched the three sisters, so has she touched each of us. Be as honest, generous, and fierce as the Sun. At the same time, be as jovial, kind, and tranquil as the Moon. Be as loyal as the Twilight and likewise balance all sides into harmony. Lastly embrace the innate magic all were born with; be they of Earth, Magic, or weather. When one has been made whole of all nine pillars they will be unshakeable and become a pillar for the future to be built upon. But beware of a future built upon false pillars, such a future leads to collapse as surely as a house built on a cracked foundation will crumble.

The five virtues compose the outer pillars of everyone; supporting the mind and framing it to the world. The three aspects are the inner pillars; supporting the spirit and framing it to the mind. The one power is the central pillar; giving birth to spirit and the powers that make everyone unique. The central pillar is the greatest gift and greatest burden placed upon everyone by the All-Seeing. All three layers of pillars combine to bring forth harmony, not just among the people, but also harmony within us all.

Honesty is the first pillar upon which harmony is built, for without an honest heart trust among the people will not form. Without trust harmony can not fully blossom as lies will poison the seed, weakening it from within. An honest heart is not only critical without, but also within. To embrace honesty is to be able to look within at ones own failings, to embrace them, and learn from them. This is the first key to becoming unshakeable, to be honest with oneself. The little lies we all tell ourselves may seem harmless, but they are weaknesses which undermine internal harmony and color our perception of the world. A truly honest heart does not lie to others or themselves.

The second pillar, generosity allows oneself to support others, which in turn strengthens themself. A generous heart will give to others not just material things, but also physical, emotional, and spiritual support. Giving your time to others is often more generous than sharing objects with them. More can be done to facilitate trust and harmony by lending an ear, shoulder, or back when needed. Be careful of being to generous though. To give of oneself is a virtue, but to give so much that you suffer is a vice, One must use the pillar of honesty to support their generosity. Use this to be honest with oneself, to know when giving would be to much. To seek a harmony between helping others and helping yourself. A truly generous heart will give to others as well as to themself.

Generosity both begets and requires the third pillar, kindness. For without kindness a gift, whether material or time is meaningless. Time given without kindness results in only misunderstandings and hatred. Giving, though it requires a seed of kindness, will nurture that seed and cause it to bloom. Kindness is the keystone of the outer pillars: Honesty without kindess begets rudeness; Generosity without kindness begets arrogance; Laughter without kindness begets torment; and Loyalty without kindness begets dependency. A kind heart understands not only others but also themself. As with honesty, kindness requires to look within to temper our own internal voices, for if we are not kind with our self, we plant the seed of self loathing and can not be truly kind to others. For a heart to be truly kind, they must be kind to all, including themself.

Laughter is a directional gateway, leading either to harmony or to discord. Thus this pillar, while strong is also very fragile and needs to be supported by the other pillars in order to lead to harmony. Sharing laughter and by relation, happiness is the greatest gift one can give, but also walks a tightrope. If the happiness is not shared with kindness and generosity it spreads discord among the people. A laugh with can easily become a laugh at, if not tempered by kindness. This line can be easily warped and broken unless balance is maintained. Not only with others is this a razor's edge. Internally, laughter can be a far worse enemy. To honestly laugh at oneself and one's own failings is integral to maintaining self-harmony, but to do so without kindness to oneself, turns bitter and poisons the soul. A truly jovial heart whether all with a smile, sharing it with everyone they meet and with themselves.

The final outer pillar is the most physical. Loyalty to others builds and maintains strong bonds of trust, the bonds formed by the other four pillars. False loyalty likewise will erode the bonds and shatter any semblance of harmony. Blind loyalty however, is also as destructive as false loyalty. Blindly following others without being honest with oneself and one's needs, will lead to fractures. One must also be loyal with themself, just as one must be honest and kind with themself. Begin loyal to others and to oneself may seem counter intuitive, but they are integral to balance. Being loyal to friends will maintaining loyalty to one's own dreams and happiness is a fine balance, one that many fight with. A truly loyal heart balances the needs of the many with the needs of the one.

With the foundation poured we delve deeper into everyone, to the core of their spirit. The Sun is power incarnate; fierce, devoted, fiery, and untamable. We too must be the same at our core. We must be devoted to our ideals and goals. We must be untamable, unstoppable in our pursuits. However, such raw, untamed emotion and power can and will burnt he wielder. If we are not careful our spirit will burn white hot and then burn itself out. We must learn from the lessons of the past. The lesson's taught to us by the Sun itself and by the conflict with the Wryms. Blind fervor and untempered rage will only lead down a dark path. We must temper ourselves to maintain internal harmony and avert a cataclysmic self-immolation.

Tranquility tempers fervor. Coolness quenches the flames of devotion. We must learn from the Moon and embrace its serenity. To be serene within and without allows clarity of mind and the ability to see more than what can be seen. We must also bath ourselves in the light of the moon and allow ourselves to dream. In dreams we see out truest self. In dreams we face our fears. In dreams we discover truths of the world. However, we must not let the serene calmness of the moon lead us to inaction. Dreams without the will to pursue them are wasted gifts and will make one sick in spirit. We must utilize both aspects of the Sun and Moon to make us whole.

This wholeness is granted through balance, which is the third inner pillar and the keystone of the spirit. The Twilight is what both the Sun and Moon are, but also what each is not. It seeks to balance both and in doing so, balances itself. This synthesis of two extremes generates a harmonic wave which resonates throughout the nine pillars and into the world. Perfect balance can never be attained though. Every action and reaction causes the scales to shift, be it internal or external actions. The key lies in correcting for these variations and maintaining the harmony within and without. The Twilight is the fulcrum of change and adaptation. Ones who don't embrace this are likely to over correct and fall to extremes. With out balance, all systems will fall into entropy and chaos.

The central support of all is the base gift from the All-Seeing. Magic permeates each and everyone. It has marked us for time immemorial with special gifts and talents. It flows through us and the land as surely as blood through our veins and water flows to rivers. We must all embrace our talents; be it physical like farming or abstract like music. All gifts are equal in the eyes of the All-Seeing. Those born of the earth have the deep magic of the land flowing through them; allowing astounding feats of strength and a natural attunement to nature. Those born of the sky have the magic of the weather flowing within; allowing them to shepherd the clouds and fly among them. Those born of magic itself have magic itself flowing within; granting them an innate knowledge of elixers and the ability to directly manipulate the ambient magic found within themselves. We are all gifted and must not let these gifts define us. We must use the other eight pillars to harmonize our gifts with each other and with ourselves lest we repeat the events that lead to the sundering of the tribes those many ages ago.

A storm is coming, one that will try us all in ways yet unseen or thought of. We must all strive to become as unmovable as the mountains to not be blown asunder by the winds of this storm. We must all become as supple as the grass; to adapt to whatever is thrown at us. We must all unite as many reeds together will not sunder, as a single reed would in the same situation. All must embrace their nine pillars and find their own harmony. This harmony will link us all in an unbreakable bond. One that will be needed in the coming cataclysm. One that is feared to be of our own doing. One we have only seen preludes to in the past. The seeds of the future lie buried in the past.

Book 7: Temptation I

The little lies we tell ourselves can be twisted and will bare dark fruit.

Temptation of the Earth.

The conflict with the wryms had shown the tribe that they could put aside their differences and unite for a common goal. It also showed them that they still had a penchant for great violence. They had let rage fill their hearts and in doing so had prepared to destroy an entire race. Had the divine intervention of the three sisters not adverted the war, many would have perished. Whole villages, whole cities would have fallen. Most of the tribes people understood and accepted the ceasefire. Many more welcomed the return of peace and the return of normality. Even those who lost family to the accident welcomed it. Or so they told themselves. They embraced the lie they told themselves to make the hurt and loss go away.

The most hurt of these were the earth-born. They had comprised most of the settlers who had died to the wyrms. Also, like the plants they tended, they planted deep roots and to them, family was everything. Bonds of blood tied everyone of them together and such bonds do not end at death. The mark each of them makes on their family and friends stays with each forever. Death is a natural part of life, they all know it, but premature, unnatural death is not. With such strong bonds, the gapping wounds left by such losses grows larger than with the other groups. The sudden and unfulfilling end to the conflict caused these wounds to fester, rotting them from the inside out. They lied to themselves, to staunch the pain, to lesson the grief. The forest saw of these lies and smiled.

It could not act directly, as that would attract the attention of the sisters, attention it was not ready for. The tender was not ready to play his hand. He needed time to finish preparing his chariot and to prepare soldiers of his own. This opening however, was to good to pass up. Here he could weaken those that would oppose him. Here he could bolster his own forces. Here he would get to play a game, one to alleviate the boredom he so hated. Here he could use the earth-born's connection to the plants; the gift granted to them by the All-Seeing; to touch their minds. To find a herald, to lead a flock to him. Reaching out the roots of the forest, he touched the roots of the plants being tended by the mourning. These in turn spread his influence to the workers tending the fields. He dug deep into the minds, looking for purchase. Looking for a crack to break into their mind and plant his seed. He found fertile fields in the mind of one of them. One who had lost all his family in the event. One who had been away when it happened. One who blamed himself for not being there and dyeing with them. This earth-born would work.

The tender planted the seed of a memory. A memory of a story told to him when he was young by his mother. A story of a spring, deep in the forest, whose waters when drank would grant ones heart's desire. The story he remembered well now. It was his favorite growing up and one he wondered how he'd forgotten. One the earth-born now wished to share with the others who still hurt. Perhaps together they could find this spring and ease their pain. Maybe the waters could fill the void left in them by the Wrym's attack. So he gathered the people and spoke to them. The forest fed powers of persuasion into its new herald, to move the hearts of the others.

"Brothers and sisters of the Earth, hear me now. We all lost ones to the unprovoked attack of the wryms, we all have voids which need filling. I have come before you today to recount a story my late mother told me when I was a youngling. One that might lead us to salvation from the pain."

The assembled crowd murmured.

"Deep in the great forest, ever free from the touch and control of our people lies a spring of purest water. In its water blooms flowers, pink of head and green of stem. Under the glare of the moon they absorb the dreams of those around, growing more vibrant. On the new moon, when no light is to be had the plants die, imparting their seeds and essence into the waters. Those that seek the desires of the heart need but drink this imbued water and all their dreams will open up before them."

The tender touched some in the crowd through these words and they in turn believed that the story had been recounted to them in the past. They added their own words to the speech and like a plague it spread from one to the other, the lies became truth to the group.

"It is this spring that I propose we seek on the new moon. Alone the dreams of one might not suffice, but together, all of our dreams could combine and bring forth a miracle. One that could return our loved ones to us!"

The infected crowd cheered and plans were laid to seek out the spring. They spread out across the land, moving in small groups, surrounding the forest. Each small group would go forth into the forest, from every angle, this way they would find the spring. The smaller groups they had agreed would also reduce the chance they would be noticed and someone would interfere. Using trained birds to send messages when the spring was found, they would converge and wait for the new moon. A week before the new moon they set out from all sides. Intent on their goal. The forest welcomed this new flock with open arms, restraining his minions and other beasts that dwelled within his realm, to keep them safe. He led his herald straight to the spring. A spring cast to look like pure water, but instead was tainted with the tender's very essence.

The herald arrived three days prior to the new moon and dispatched the messenger birds to assemble the group. With in two days the masses arrived, welcomed to the paradise the tender manifested for them. They feasted for the day, in celebration to the coming new moon. Shrouded from the gaze of the sun by the foliage, the sisters were blind to the meeting. Night came and the other eye of the All-Seeing closed, once again blinding the sisters to what would transpire this night. As the story told, the flowers in the spring died and the water became stained pinkish red by their power. The water now resembled blood. Taking the chalices they brought with them, the assembled earth-born filled them and passed them around. When all was served, they drank deep of the water. The bile they actually drank had been sweetened by the tender with their own lies. The essence of the forest flowed through them, they all saw their loved ones faces before them, welcoming them back. They all died there on the spot.

They all rose shortly there after, reborn by the forest. Now twice as large, four times as strong, and no longer alive their very breath froze the air. They were no longer earth-born. They were now chaos-born, soldiers of the forest and its tender. The herald was larger by far then any of them and was named by their dark master the leader. Combined they roared into the night, unrestrained rage against the sisters and their matron. The tender laughed deep at what he had accomplished. More pawns to replace the slain wrym. He selected the strong from among the flock to join him eternally. They welcomed the full ascension. Roots ripped from the ground, surrounding the willing sacrifices and merged their bodies with that of the ebon wrym. Building their strength into the body. Complimenting it, further completing it. One down, five to go. Soon. Soon he would be free. Soon he would show the sisters how powerless they truly are.

When the twilight retreated and the sun dawned the next day, the paradise grove they had seen was now a fetid pit of the damned. The spring was no more, in its place was a darkened cave, spiraling down into the bowels of the earth. Beckoned by the uniting voice in their heads, the herald led the chaos-born into the lair of chaos, the den of Entropy. Here they would train, away from the prying eyes of the three. Here they would master their new gifts. Here they would plan how to spread this ascension to the others in the tribe. Weather and magic would join them, compliment them, and make the master whole. Some would not remain. Taking into them a portion of the tender’s powers, they raised an illusion that only the sisters could purge. An illusion of how they looked prior to the gifting. These scouts would go forth and return to the Harmony tribe. There, the chaos-born would recruit others to join the cause.

In the bastion of the sisters, the Twilight felt an unease come over her. More attuned to the natural balance than her older sisters, she could feel the subtle shift, but paid it no mind. To her, further strengthening the bonds forged by the wrym incident came first. If the Earth-born, Magic-born, and Weather-born could come together like that in a time peace, they would be unbreakable. On that point the three aspects had agreed. However, as in the past, they could not come to an accord at how to present themselves to the harmony tribe. The direct interaction of the Twilight to resolve the looming war had been the right action, but now, more than ever, the people saw them as guardians; as sacred beings; as goddesses made flesh. Some had taken to worshipping them like the tribes from before the sundering had worshipped the All-Seeing. They stood at a crossroads, unsure of what they should do. But having revealed themselves, do something they must. The remaining members of the original Harmony tribe, the ones who had not integrated themselves into the new tribe. Those that had stayed on as their distant family and as their hereditary guards would do what the sisters could not. They sent some of their members outwards, to begin to talk of the sisters and of the All-seeing.

Book 8: Temptation II

To much of a virtue can become a vice. Give to much and you lose yourself.

Temptation of the Mind

The agents of the forest went forth and scoured the land. Their master bidding them to find more converts. Bound to the earth, the chaos-born focused first on the magic tribe. Their power being the next one the tender coveted. Their power would allow them to ascend to the sky. The scouts infiltrated the camps and villages on the outskirts of the land. These were the ones most likely to be overlooked by the sisters. Their gaze rested squarely on the population centers. Their minds focused on the harmony tribe and the budding religion.

Many scouts had no luck. Finding only the hardy Earth-born villages where they were working the land. These villages were close family compounds and were wary of the travelers. Letting them stay for a night, then seeing them on their way. These farms would not provide them with the forces they needed. Angry, the scouts touched the land, spreading a disease to the crops, one that would not present itself until the food was consumed. If the chaos-born could not add to their own, they would weaken the other. The frontier communities traded between themselves, unknowingly spreading the infection. Soon plague broke out.

Bad crops causing an outbreak was nothing new, but was still taken seriously. A single mold contaminated shipment from one of these villages could spell a pandemic, corrupting all of the crops, sickening many more ponies. Each life was sacred and measures must be taken to preserve enough of them as possible. As such the Royal Medical Society, a long standing magic-born group centered on healing magics and elixers dispatched a group on twenty of their best, lead by the vice chancellor, a mare known for going above and beyond to aid the injured and sick. Her group quickly moved to one of the most afflicted villages. They arrived to be welcomed only by death. The disease having killed every mare, stallion, and foal; eating them from the inside out. To prevent further spread, they burnt the village and the tilled fields. A funeral pyre for the lost souls, sending them to the All-Seeing.

Incised by the loss of life the noble mare collected samples and rushed to the next village. Hoping that there, at least she could save at least one of them. They found the next village in better shape, but not by much. The disease was in full effect, all were sick, but none had died yet. The Magic-born doctors jumped into action right away, taking samples, temperatures, and using scanning magics to track down the source and root cause of the epidemic. What they found was disheartening. None of the tomes had any trace of the disease. Its characteristics were alien, chaotic. It was as if it was not one but four or more diseases that had co-mingled, changing each other. The symptoms of no one pony were the same, aside from the bulging pustules found on their skin. Pustules that even when lanced of their fluid would quickly return.

Undaunted the mare and her colleagues began work in earnest. They concocted powerful medicines to lower the fevers and soothe the aches. They used ointments imbued with healing magics to mend the lesions and weeping sores. None seemed to make any headway against the mysterious infections. The elderly and young began to die, the hardier of the ill lasting longer. The vice chancellor would not yield. She began to use powerful healing magics, ones only known to the higher ranking members of the society, ones that tapped into the very life force of the user. These too failed, unable to impede the accelerating advances of the insidious agent. Like the last village, all afflicted died, the doctors and nurses doing their best to ease the pain of their passing Also like the last, they to made a pyre for the dead. The searing heat would do what they could not.

The members of the party insisted that they return for help. Perhaps others in the society would be able to provide insight into this outbreak. The lead mare refused to return. To much time would be lost returning. More would die. She refused to fail again, even if it meant giving more of herself, more of them all to cure it. Bolstered by the determination of their leader, they continued on to the next village, fortifying their own magical defenses against catching and carrying the disease. Taking with them the knowledge they had gained at such an expensive cost. The third village had just began to show the signs of the disease. The first victims were the elderly, their immune systems taxed from the rigors of a long life on the frontier. Quarantining the ill to stem the infection they tried their best to save the elders, but to no avail. Even the powerful, life siphoning magics could not prevent the inevitable. The mare grew more desperate.

Immolating the corpses, much to the chagrin of the other villagers, they once again sent their spirits to the All-Seeing. Hope returned when no more cases arose after the unfortunate elderly died. Perhaps their precautions, timing, and luck had beaten the disease. This false hope did not last long as one by one, others fell ill. The foals were the hardest hit and the hardest to bear. Young lives cut short by such a cruel fate wounded the magic-born in ways no knife or spell could. One filly in particular hit the vice chancellor harder than the others. She was the same age and had the same general features as the mare's own daughter, who was safely back in the capitol, far away from this dreadful disease. Still the uncanny resemblance was too much for her to take and thus she poured all of her strength into curing this one foal. If she failed here it would be like failing her own daughter. She needed to give more than she had ever before and she did.

Against the advise of her subordinates she prepared her spell. Channeling her very spirit into the spell, she became a nimbus of soothing green energy. The light and energy released soothing those within range like a cool spring rain. Focusing this energy she channeled it into the young one, permeating her entire body. Infusing it with the very essence of life, her very essence of life. Just as the light reached its apex, it suddenly stopped, the spell and connection broken by the other worried magic-born. By doing it they had spared their leader from sacrificing her own life. With the energies dissipated, the mare collapsed, as near to death as one could be. She would not wake for over two weeks. The filly, as she would find out had fled into the nearby forest and was assumed dead, just like all the others who had contracted the illness. In the two week coma, the rest of the village had succumbed, died, and been burned. Only one village remained, this one thankfully clear of any signs. It was here that the mare had been recovering.

The reprieve was short lived. The constant exposure to the disease and the weakening of their magical reserves had taken its toll and soon the doctors and nurses who had sought to cure the disease fell victim to it. Soon too did the villagers who had kindly sheltered them fall victim to it as well. The magic-born did their best to stem the progress of the aliment, but helping the others weakened them to the disease. In short time, they gave up helping the others and thought only of themselves. The earth-born, unable to magically slow the disease perished. The magic-born lying to themselves that their survival would lead to the survival of many more. They had more good to give to the world. The vice chancellor, with an immune system hardened by many years in service lasted longer, but soon she was rendered unable to help others. Despair reigned over the compound.

Feverous and guilty, the mare began to hear a voice, calling for her from the forest's edge. Delirious she stumbled to the edge to find its source. Who she found amazed her, it was the little filly from the previous village. Somehow she had survived. Somehow she had beaten what the mare could not. The young one spoke of a spring she had stumbled upon, dying of thirst she had drank of it. The water and its strange flowers and plants had quenched her thirst and in turn cured the illness that afflicted her. The filly lead the Vice Chancellor to the spring, where both drank of the water. Almost immediately the pustules vanished, her mind cleared, the fever broke, her magic was restored. Using the renewed strength she crafted a magical bag, collecting the water to give to the rest of the team and to research for future uses. So consumed by the urge to share the blessed water she was oblivious to the fact that the little filly who had shown her the spring was no longer there and that only one set of hoof prints marked the path back to the village.

Returning to her group she found them all near the edge of death. Channeling her healing magics, now a slightly sickly green, into the water, hoping to boost the effects; she passed the elixer out and the twenty magic-born drank. All twenty recovered instantaneously. All twenty had the mark of their gift begin to glow the same sickly green as the mare's own mark now did. In unison, the magic resonated and rippled from the mark, encasing each in a crystalline cocoon of emerald energy. Here they would stay for many weeks, until the next new moon. When the All-Seeing closed both eyes that night, the cocoon's hatched. From them came beings twisted by dark magics, barely resembling their previous forms. More insectoid. More feral and savage. The vice chancellor who had consumed more of the water than the others had become larger, more powerful than the others. A voice resonated through their minds. Welcoming them to the chaos-born. His chaos-born.

The new chaos-magic-born looked at themselves and were horrified. The magic-born had always been the most vain of the tribes and even now they were just as vain. Their new forms were disgusting, gut wrenching, wrong. They all began to glow a sickly, firey green and in flashes, gained new forms. Some resembled their own, previous forms; others of loved ones; others of different tribes; and still more as prominent figures in the harmony tribe. Further flashes erupted and more forms changed Each change drained their energy, made them hungry, but not for food. They had given their all for others. Their love for others and for life had cost them everything. Now they would feed on the emotions of others.

It was at that time when a search party from the capitol arrived, worried about the doctors and nurses dispatched months ago. The chaos-magic-born masked themselves as loved ones or friends of the search party. The vice chancellor, now their queen gave one command. Feed. The confused party was overtaken and all that remained were desiccated husks. All life, all emotion had been drained from them. The forest enjoyed their agony and bid his new minions join the others in the den. Soon they joined the chaos-earth-born and began to cultivate their powers. The lesser of the chaos-magic-born, like the chaos-earth-born gave themselves freely to the tender of the forest and were joined with his growing body, imparting their gift from the All-Seeing and their transformational ability to the tender's chariot.

The Twilight felt the increased disturbance in the balance and this time did not ignore it. She brought the imbalance to the elder two and together they looked for a source. The forest cloaked the presence of its growing army so the sisters would not sense them. All they found were the burnt villages cleaned of the plague their advisors had mentioned. The loss of life from the random epidemic was heart wrenching for the Twilight, who was far younger than the others and was not used to such things yet. The Sun and Moon consoled their sister and believed that the imbalance she felt was the loss of life. Turning to other tasks, they focused their efforts again on the burgeoning religion with them at their center. Meanwhile, in the capitol a young filly hears her mother's voice. Telling her that she loves her. Calling the young one to join her.

Book 9: Temptation III

Blind loyalty can betray just as easy as a knife to the back.

Temptation of the Sky

Days pass and nothing is heard from the fast response weather-born. The council becomes agitated and fearful. Could a new enemy have presented itself? Could the rumor of plague be worse than they thought? Tensions mount, nerves fray, arguments erupt. The situation is swiftly defused when one of the fast response teams members arrives at the chambers, apologizing for his tardiness. Assuaging the fears of those there he explains that everything is in hoof. The doctors are fine and are tending to a village. The rest of his team are aiding where they can. The outbreak while bad in some villages, was attributed to a batch of grain, which has been dealt with. The fields it was reaped from have been purged with magic and fire. Removing all traces of the contagion.

He requests that supplies be sent to aid the rebuilding. Much food was lost to contain the plague and ensure its complete eradication. Having sworn to never forsake their own villages, the council agreed to this and began assembling a caravan of magic-born and earth-born to venture to the settlements with help. The magic-born would aid in healing and the earth-born in reclaiming the land. The leaders also used this as an opportunity for them to send further settlers to the area, and thus they did. Excusing himself so he can leave and return to report this to the group. After one additional mission that is.
When away from prying eyes, the messenger drops his disguise, reverting to the insectoid form blessed to him by the master. Moving to the next objective, he assumes the form of a kindly magic-born mare, one whom the queen's foal would trust. Arriving at the abode of the queen, he enters and reports a message received from the mother, for the daughter. Her mother has summoned her to the village, she will be living there for a time, helping to rebuild and would like her daughter there by her side. Excited the filly agreed and was thus handed a paper allowing her to be among the members of the caravan. His duty complete, he exits the building and once again resumes the guise of the weather-born. Taking off, he returns to the den to inform the queen and the master of the events.

A week later, the caravan is ready to embark for the villages. In the group was a score of magic-born, a few doctors, but many were artisans looking for a new start. The bulk of the group was almost two score earth-born, eager to settle new land and raise their crops. All were adults except for the single youngling magic-born eager to join her mother at their destination. Completing the group was a small contingent of weather-born soldiers, specifically requested to go by the weather-born member of the council. She refused to commit resources and send tribesman without protection. Assembled, they departed for the frontier area and the villages there. On the first night after departure a single member of the magic-born contingent separated herself from the sleeping masses and walked to the edge of the camp. Shrouding herself in magic so as not to be noticed by the vigilant weather-born guards she contacted her queen through the link they shared. Together they planed a welcoming party for the group.

The days passed by with out event. The weather-born guards became lax and fell into the rhythm of the rest of the caravan. Eventually they closed in on the village and the trap was sprung. The ground erupted and canid beings burst forth snatching up all of the earth-born and magic-born. They were dragged back underground along with all of the gems and other precious metals to be found in the caravan. The weather-born could do little to aid the rest as the strike was both sudden and well coordinated. In mere seconds the attack was over and the caravan left in ruins. To the well trained weather-born is was almost if the attackers had known where everypony and everything would be. Fearful of the village, they went forth to find it deserted as well, with the telltale mounds showing the subterranean caninids had struck there as well. Wasting no more time they rushed to the capitol to rally the forces and stop these raiders. In the den, the chaos-born drop their disguises and laugh.

Deep underground the frightened ponies were thrown into cages, made of magic resistant metals, keeping the magic-born from making their escape. Days passed and they were left alone, without food or water. Their wills flagged and unrest grew. The magic-born were able to use their gift to slow the dehydration, but the earth-born had no such ability. They had to rely on their own hardened constitution to survive. On the fourth day a great commotion came from outside the cells and the doors thrown open. They had been saved at last. Delirious from the ordeal they gladly accepted the water offered to them by their saviors. The effects were immediate and more chaos-born joined their ranks. On the other side of the tunnels, a lone filly, treated well by the captors, is reunited with her mother. The queen's horn glows the same green color as before and slowly the emerald cocoon encases her daughter. The corruption fed to her during the imprisonment taking hold. Here she would sleep. Here she would remain until the time was right. Here she would under go her chrysalis and when she emerges, she will be queen.

Back at the capitol a war council is called to deal with the problem. There had been minor skirmishes in the past with these mostly nomadic canines, mostly dealing with mineral rights when they were expanding into the gem rich areas. All had been settled without bloodshed. But this obvious act of aggression could not stand. They agreed to dispatch their main army, what was still enlisted from the Wyrm conflict, to the regular territory of the canids to deal with the problem and secure their border.

Mean while, two of the weather-born wings would be dispatched the village to deal with the raiders. The first would be the fast attack wing, a skilled group of swift fliers that struck like lightning, leaving awe in their wake. Their banners and armors marked with cyan and gold, showing the head of a raptor emblazoned over a thunderbolt. The second wing was the heavy aerial attack group, skilled at air to ground combat. They were known to pounce on their quarry and render it to shreds like one of the large cats of the southern plains. As if to force home the point, their emblem was the paw of a great cat, flanked on either side by a wing. Neither group got along well with each other. There had been a rivalry between the two groups for centuries, each degrading the attack patterns of the other. To the fast attack wing, the techniques of the other were sloppy and unrefined. To the heavy aerial wing, the other was dancing, not fighting. Regardless, they were the best of the best and would do their duty, Besides, this gave each an opportunity to show up the other.

The forces assembled themselves before the gates of the capitol, arrayed in tight uniform rows. Each group distributed into their platoons. With a speech from the assembled council and a salute, the forces embarked for their respective destinations. The slower moving main army, composed mostly of earth-born and magic-born marched out by hoof, with their weather-born cavalry flying closely overhead. The fast attack wing took off in a blur, leaving streaks of cyan and gold trailing in their wake. The heavy attack wing smirked, laughing among themselves that those hot shots would just end up tiring themselves out rushing there and be worthless. It would be their time to shine. Taking off, they set steady pace that would get them there in good time, but also well rested. Mean while in the air, the fast attack joked as well, that the slowpokes would miss all the fun. Back at the dens, the chaos-born prepared to welcome their new company.
The chaos-born began to redirect the flow of the waters around the village to dry the land and cause drought conditions. They simulated further canide aggression by placing the decayed corpses of their first feast in the village and more of the telltale mounds throughout the area. They used their magic to enhance the sun of the area to further increase the drought. With the area setup, the chaos-born waited for their guests. They did not have to wait long.

The fast attack wing, true to their name arrived no more than two days after they departed the capitol. They were horrified to find their brethren slain and began burial details. They assembled dry tinder, which there was plenty of, and committed the bodies back to the all-seeing and back to the sky. Few words were spoken, but the anger was evident in all of their faces. The commander, an experienced leader dispatched one of the newest members of her team to connect with the heavy attack wing and inform them of what they had found. Eager to please and extremely loyal to the commander the soldier readily accepted and was off in a flash. The rest of the wing spread out to look for recent signs of activity and to try and track the fiends to their lair.

The heavy attack wing was more than halfway to the rendezvous point when the private from the fast attack wing arrived and breathlessly imparted what they had found. Incensed by the news, they increased their speed as much as possible. They were endurance fliers, not speedsters and their heavier armor and weapons had to also be taken into account. In due time they arrived to find the fast attack wing had setup base camp inside the deserted town with regular scouting flights every hour. Satisfied, the commander of the heavy attack wing ordered his forces to reinforce the perimeter, rest, and setup their own camp while he and the private reconvened with the commander of the fast attack group.

The commander praised her subordinate for his loyalty and swiftness in getting the message delivered. This was like honey to his ears and he lapped it up. He had striven for many years to enter the prestigious ranks he was now a member of and words of praise from his commanding officer was well worth the entire ordeal. With a skip in his step he was dismissed, ordered to take a deserved rest and then join the scouting flights. With that out of the way the commanders got down to business. Due to the historic rivalry they acted slightly antagonistic to each other in public, but in fact they did not dislike each other. Regardless, they had a mission to do and would accomplish it. In agreement the two leaders evenly distributed the heavier forces around the perimeter, readied to strike at a moment’s notice, while the faster wing would continue to scout. In the den the chaos-born prepared their next move, forcing some of their captured canides into a frenzy. They needed to keep the attention of the two wings for as long as possible.

At the citadel of the three, their gazes turned from the villages to the sound of the war drums. They watched intently the armies progression, praying to the all-seeing that it takes no aggressive action. They prepared themselves to intervene again should it warrant it. They did not want to as their last intervention had lead to their deification and did not want to further it at all. Still, they would do their all-seeing given duty and protect their tribesman.

That night, as the left eye looked down upon them, the canides attacked the encampment, driven into a madness by the chaos-born and their master. They were nothing more than beasts now, driven by bloodlust, savage and reckless. The weather-born forces mobilized quickly to counter and repel the incursion. The attackers forewent their standard hit and run tactics and instead charged the more agile defenders. They would be cut down to the last mongrel. The fear imparted to them by the chaos-born kept them from retreating, kept them attacking. The weather-born had no choice, even still they lost a few good soldiers, snatched from the air and torn asunder. Just as suddenly as the attacked happened it was over and the weather-born began the grisly detail of clearing the battlefield and tending to their injured and dead. Two of the fast attack wing and three of the heavy attack wing fell that night. As with tradition their bodies were cremated and returned to the sky, their armor burned along with the bodies.

The normal bantering between the two wings changed in the days following the attack. The pain of losing comrades was something they all knew could happen, but very few had ever felt. The threat of another attack created a palatable air of tension. Everypony became high strung. Accusations began to fly that one group or the other had stood by and let their friends die. Not lifting a hoof to aid them, wanting the glory for themselves. The officers tried to stem these, but failed, fights broke out occasionally between the two groups. The commanders had no other recourse but to segregate their wings to separate sides of the village. This did little to stop the building unrest. Word of mouth among friends who had fought together, bled together, trusted each other were stronger than anything else. Their training had instilled great loyalty to their commanders and to their wing mates, any thoughts of losing them to the actions of so called allies was enraging.

More days passed and the canides returned to their hit and run tactics, but more injuries were sustained in fights between the weather-born than in any of these skirmishes. Slowly the supplies they had brought and scavenged began to stretch thin, the artificial drought taking its toll. The commanders sent for resupply, but the caravans never came. Water and food became tightly rationed and the nerves of everypony frayed further. The commanders refused to leave as long as the skirmishes and attacks occurred, so they stayed. In the Den, the chaos-born with the assistance of their master repelled the clouds, keeping rain away. The skirmishes continued, it was like the canides were unaffected by the drought.

Another week passed with no resupply and the building tension finally erupted into a full on conflict. The same private who had been sent to meet the heavy wing was heading to make a report to his commander when he overheard a conversation in a thought to be deserted building. Peering in he saw the commander of the heavy wing talking with one of the canides. Hoping for a negotiation the private listened on. What he heard was treacherous words. The heavy wing commander was going to sell them out to the brutes. In exchange for unopposed withdrawal, he just had to leave behind the entire light wing as a sacrifice. Stunned the private rushed to his commander to tell her of the dark deal being made. Knowing they had been watched and overheard, the commander and the former-canide chaos-born grinned at each other and laughed.

Breathlessly the private reported what he had overheard to the commander. She scowled and ordered him to keep it to himself. She handed him her personal weapon and gave him the task to do his duty and slay the traitor. Stunned he almost refused, but the commander spoke before he could reply. He must do this or he would show his own disloyalty and be considered a traitor just like the heavy commander. To this he would not refuse and agreed to silence the traitor. She smiled and praised him for the loyalty. That night he snuck into the commander’s room and slit the throat of the traitor. Dropping the weapon he retreated, sick to his stomach. Had he stuck around, he would have noticed that the wound did not bleed. The commander had already been dead.

Hurriedly he reported back to his commander that the deed was done and the betrayer dealt with. His breath caught in his throat when he arrived to find his own commander dead, her stomach ripped open by a heavy attack wing’s hoof claw. His scream split the night, awakening all those that were not on guard duty, all donning their armor for battle. The light wing was arrived quickly and were horrified by what they saw. With no trace of the mongrel’s mounds and the obvious wound, they turned on the heavy attack wing soldiers. Hurling insults and hooves. The heavy attack soldiers in turn alerted their commander, only to find him dead, his throat cut by one of the light attack wing’s feather darts. The building frustration could not be held back and all out war burst forth.

Disoriented, ashamed, and distraught the private took to the sky to get clear of the torrent of battle. The war cries screams broke the calm night as the watch fires illuminated the carnage below. No moon shown that night to pacify their rage. Weather-born turned on weather-born, all semblance of loyalty to anyone else but their commanders lost. Quickly the combat knocked over the fires, igniting the dry structures and grasses like tinder, soon the entire village was a tumultuous conflagration, with demonic images playing across the shadows. Shocked back to reality, the private took to the near forest looking for any source of water he could use to form a cloud and squelch the inferno. Knowing that if the mongrels had water, there must be a source somewhere. Determined to find it he hunted and as if by divine intervention he found it, a small spring, hidden from aerial view by a rock out cropping.

Using his weather-born abilities a cloud of darkest black was constructed, drawing in as much of the lifeblood of the land it could hold. Hopeful to make up for his transgression he took the new cloud, which unknown to him carried a faint green aura, to over the village and with great blows brought forth the rain to the parched soil. Brought forth rain to quench the flames, both physical and mental. The water did just that. It extinguished the physical flames, keeping the fire from spreading to the other parched growth. It also extinguished the flames inside the hearts and minds of the embattled weather-born, their flames of loyalty. Not just to each other, but also to themselves, breaking down their very bodies. Flesh, blood, even the armor they wore, all gave up their loyalties.

The bodies flowed together, each light attack wing member flowing into a heavy attack soldier. Each body returned into being as a merger of the two. The raptor helm the light attack wore, to streamline their face became flesh and blood, it was this new being’s head. The attack claws of the heavy attack wing merged with the legs and adorned them in razor sharp claws. As two bodies became one, so did two minds. Each rejecting the other, blaming the other, only a darker will binding them together. Overhead, relief turned to abject terror as the young private beheld the sickening transformation. His baser instincts taking over and causing him to flee into the night, lest these new abominations spot him. On the ground, the commanders of the two groups, revealed themselves, healthy, alive and returned to the chaos-born forms they had not worn since the first attack that had allowed them to take over. Together they welcomed the new warriors to the Chaos-born.

The chaos-born queen welcomed them all, but they held no loyalty to her or the other chaos-born. Only the dark will of the tender bound them together. To the tender, this did not matter; he had gained a strong, well-trained army of savage fighters. His forces were now complete and just needed training. Soon the assault would be ready, but not before he tapped into further powers, which he currently was. The rains had also liquefied the bodies of the slain commanders, which he channeled into the body he was raising, into his chariot. Soon their tactical minds and strengths suffused the vessel. Three gifts had become one in this new body, bolstered by his own chaos magic. On queue, the chaos-born’s voices echoed in the night. The raptor-like cry of the new members enhanced with the roar of a large cat spread throughout the area.

Still flying, the young private was both exhausted and dehydrated from the rationed supplies began to falter. Losing altitude he began a spiral descent, the mark of the weather-born transformed itself from the exposure and his pure disgust in himself, to mark him not of the daytime sky, but of the nighttime sky. The last of his reserves spent and the adrenalin that had flooded his veins ebbing, he lost consciousness close enough to the ground to survive. With one last flicker if the eyes, he beheld a magnificent castle, one that was normally shrouded from view by magic. Praying to the all-seeing for help, the blackness encased him.

Book 10: Temptation IV

A shepherd shows ones flock kindness and calls it herding. A tyrant herds one’s flock and calls it kindness.

Temptation of the Sun.

The All-Seeing answered the prayers of the night-touched weather-born private. A vision had been granted to the Moon, a vision of one in need; of one who would become her champion; of one who would be the first of her night guard. Following the vision, the Moon descended and found the survivor of the fast attack wing, crumpled on the ground where his decent had thrown him. Lunar magic emanated from the mare, cascading over the poor soul. The magics took to him far better than normal, the touch of the night resonating with the energies. Wounds old and new closed, scars vanished, life returned. The private stood and thanked his savior, only to realize it was one of the three sisters, the rumored goddesses whom his grandmother told stories of. The same who had stopped a war and anointed the land where the capitol now stood.

The shock and awe of the ethereally beautiful mare froze the private where he stood. But not for long, once back to his senses, he prostrated himself and wept, for his sins were far to large to have been saved by the likes of her. She bid him rise and announce the sins he spoke of for her to judge. He recounted the twin betrayals, his own and the former commanders. He recounted the battle, but did not recount the sickening rain, for he could not remember it. The memory had been erased from his mind, though the impact still lingered. With a lunar blessing, the Moon absolved him of the sins. The touch of the night resonated more and cemented the vision the Moon had had. She anointed the private as her first night guard, he pledged himself to her eternally. With the oath spoken, the sister ushered the night guard into the castle and towards the barracks, bidding him good night.

The Moon grew concerned over the organized aggression shown by the normally pack oriented canides. The betrayal of the weather-born commander also weighed on her mind. She would discuss this in the morning with her sisters for it would give her time to investigate using her dream diving magics. Resting herself on the cushioned seat laid out for her in the audience hall, the Moon began her delving into the realm of dreams. The initial dive was to settle the dreams of her night-touched, removing the nightmares that now plagued his sleep. Expanding her mind westward, the Moon scanned the other side of the forest, where the conflict had erupted. No signs of dreams could be found, not even the echo of dreams that resonated inside all of the tribesmen. The fear was confirmed; the conflict the night guard he told of had left no survivors. A tear was shed. Turning towards the far east, the Moon’s mind raced across the dreamscape for the slumbering soldiers that had marched to the borders. Finding the minds of the commanders, she dove with baited breath. What awaited her assuaged her worries, they were not dreaming of impending battles.

Using a carrot, the Moon coaxed the memories out of their slumbering hosts. The fruits born further relieved her. No orders had been given to start an invasion of the canide territory, only of setting up a defensive line on the border. If this continued their intervention would not be needed. He sisters would be happy to hear this. Gathering her reserves, the Moon branched her mind further out, looking for the dreams of non tribesmen, looking for any canide dream she could touch in order to discern any motive. All she was rewarded with was an inky blackness, an emptiness that felt almost wrong, but she brushed it aside, attributing it to the waning moon. Some of the blackness however latched onto the seed planted during the wyrm conflict.

The morning dawned and the Moon recounted the events of the night to her co-regents and sisters. The Twilight was aghast at what had happened. She was ashamed that their kin could be so brutal to each other. Her innocence and sheltered upbringing as one of the older sister’s handmaids began to show, she had not known the same horrors as the elders. The Sun blamed the ineffectual leadership of the tribes. They were still too divided; the council of theirs did not do enough to unite the disparate groups, even those among the same source tribe. Once again she pushed the fact that the three of them would rule better and should take their position as active shepherds to their people, not continue to guide them from the shadows. As with the past when such discussions came up, both the Moon and the Twilight turned down the proposal. The tribes did not need “goddesses” to lead them for perpetuity. They needed to control their own fate as they flowed down the stream of time. It was their job, the triumvirate’s job to adjust the currents in the river to direct the boat, but it would be up to the tribesmen to keep from sinking.

Thinking the matter over: the Twilight retreated to speak with her old friends, whom had become confidents after ascension; The Moon left to check in with her night guard and then to rest from her active night. For the Sun, the matter was not closed; it was never closed. She had lived for millennia, far longer than the others and had watched the tribe fracture in the past. Her experiences could be used to cement the still new (in her mind) unity. Deep in her soul, a small black flame ignited after hundreds of years of dormancy. The flame was stoked by the primal rage the Sun kept under control. Rage directed at the failure of mortals. The tender sensed the flame igniting and knew that a small push was all that was needed to trigger his ancient cantrip. The chaos-magic born were summoned by the master. With swiftness only direct control mind link could yield, they were set off on their tasks. In his mind, a game piece was moved into position. A wicked smile dressed his non-corporal face.

The chaos-magic born queen recalled forbidden knowledge from her previous life, knowledge she had acquired in order to combat many illnesses. Now this knowledge would be used to do her dark master’s will. The queen transferred her knowledge of an ancient elixir, one that was discovered shortly after the great exodus and all traces of the recipe destroyed to keep it out of the wrong hooves. She had found a single surviving copy, scribbled in the margins of a journal maintained by a wandering magic born who had arrived at the magic born kingdom a century ago, just prior to the great freeze. This potion was destined for the ruling council, to cut off the head and then attack the body. The spell she transferred to her drones would be deployed on the eastern border. As with the potion, it was a forbidden and lost spell, resurrected by that same wandering mage. While in life his work benefitted the sisters, in death his legacy would serve the tender he fought against.

The drones were dispatched once the knowledge had been transferred and thus two small infiltration groups took aim at their targets. They would need to coordinate the assaults for maximum disruption and it was agreed upon that on sunrise, after the next new moon, they would use the elixir and spell. Thus ensuring that the Sun would be present to sense the chaos and her balance tip in their favor. The capitol team abducted and replaced the servants of the earth-born and magic-born council members, providing them access to the prime targets. The eastern group did not need such subtly; the spell they were gifted just needed a focus for it to be cast upon.

The Sun continued to watch the tribe and their army. The Sun continued to scrutinize the decisions of the leaders, seeing flaws, real or imagined, in all of the choices. The Sun waited for the council to fail. The Sun waited for her divine guidance to be needed. The black flame at the core of the Sun fed on this and in turn subtly influenced the princess. The Moon did not notice the change in her sister, she was to busy overseeing the training of her night guard, now over two score strong. Each accepted the touch of the night, their gift adjusting to reflect their oath. Even the Twilight was unaware; she was occupied reviewing the vast archives of documents that the elder two had accumulated in their long lives. Learning the history of times long gone.

Days passed and the new moon came. The chaos-magic born enacted their plans. For the capitol force, an early morning council meeting was arranged to discuss the continued military presence at the border. The earth-born and magic-born were the first to arrive, ushered there by the disguised chaos-magic born. The stallion and mare were each handed a cup, filled with the black, tar like draught that had become common place in the morning. Each mug had been spiked with the elixir the chaos-magic born had crafted. The moment the concoction hit the council members stomachs, the trap was sprung and the effect of the potion was immediate. The two council members looked deep into each other’s eyes and were enamored with each other. A sleeping seed of love, of lust, of primal matching had been bloomed by the liquid. The two could think of nothing else but each other. With any decision by the council of three requiring a majority consensus, the potion had hamstrung the leadership of the tribe.

At the same time, to the east, the other agents activated their spell. They had enchanted a Totally Ordinary Mineral that was in the shape of a giant diamond with the covetous spell. To all but the casters, the rock would resemble a large, perfect diamond; one that they wanted and needed over anything else. Nothing would stand in their way in order to get it. Not friends; not family; not enemies. It would strip the freewill of those exposed until canceled. As the dawn broke upon the land, the perimeter guards were the first to fall to the siren call of the spell. A fight broke out among them for it. Others, woken by the noise soon joined in. The noise was enough to pull the nearby canides out of their dens, who swiftly fell under the sway of the spell. Those unaffected saw the attack of the canides and joined the fight. Both sides soon emptied their camps as the fight broke out. A messenger was soon dispatched to the capitol; a war had started.

In the bastion of the sisters, the Sun saw this occur and swiftly adjusted her gaze to await the response of the council. If need be she herself would intervene. The Moon and the Twilight felt the disturbance as well and soon joined the Sun in the observation tower. As with the elder sister, the younger two knew that intervention might be warranted to stop the war. With baited breaths they watched both the war and the messenger who arrived as swiftly as she could, ignoring the capitol guards and going straight to the council chambers. The scene that opened before both the sisters and the messenger was unexpected. The earth-born and magic-born council members were all over each other; ignoring the comments of everyone around them. With two of the three leaders incapacitated, the weather-born was the sole voice of the council. She was also the leader of the military and had advocated for a strong military response to the canide invaders, not just a defensive. Now that war had come, she felt her stance was justified. The first edict from her mouth was to muster all of the reserves. They would empty their cities to defeat and conquer the canides, to keep them from ever rising again.

The Elders of the Earth-born refused, as this was not the will of the council. With their chosen representative indisposed, they would need to meet and discuss the merits of such an action. Until that time, no earth-born would take action. Likewise, the magic-born nobility refused. With their princess, much to their chagrin, busy, the duty of deciding the fate and stakes of the magic-born fell to the house of nobles. The two groups left, leaving the commander alone with the other two love struck council members. She dispatched the messenger to inform the force of the pending decision and with one phrase. “Hold The Line”.

The sisters were dismayed at the inaction. The Moon and Twilight were patient though and would wait for the choice, but preparing for intervention if need be. They left to continue the scrying of the war in a more attuned place, leaving the Sun alone to continue her vigil. The Sun however, had never been patient and would wait no longer. She had watched the petty bickering happen in the past. She had watched the tribe sunder. She had fallen because of their inaction all those millennia ago, only the ascension saved her. No more! She had the power to unite the tribes and weld them into a single force. As the first of the ascended, she alone knew the entire history. She alone could and would rule them. She alone would usher in a brand new world, ruled by the might of the sun! A Solar Empire would be forged, united by her will and power. Here she would show all of the tribe, willing or not, her kind benevolence. Deep in her soul, the black flame grew larger; grew hotter; and further inflamed her sense of righteousness.

The Sun summoned her guard to her, two hundred strong, all geared in brilliant golden armor. All forged into perfect weapons of her will. For generations their families had served her, the oaths passed from parent to child. Each one trained and schooled as their ancestors, trained to fight the forest and its horrors. Trained to defend harmony. The Sun announced that today they would unite the tribes who had descended into chaos once again and stop a war that threatened their brethren. To punctuate this, the Sun channeled immense magic and clothes herself in radiant golden armor that looked to shimmer with all the colors of the sun. She dispatched her guard to the east, to route the canides and bring salvation to the beleaguered army. She alone would descend upon the capitol and bring to an end the squabbles of the mortals. A cheer went up through the guards and they began the march to their destiny. The Sun launched herself into the air and with haste, made for the capitol, her passing leaving a golden band in her wake. The night guard had overheard the solar princesses orders and rushed to inform his mistress of them, she had to be made aware.

The guard found the Moon and Twilight already heading to where the Sun had been. Even in the crystal caves that had allowed them to scry from every conceivable view, they had felt the surge in solar energy. The guard informed them of the happenings, both the Moon and Twilight shocked at the outburst. They dismissed the guard to get the rest of the Night Guard and secure the positions abandoned by their solar counterparts. The Twilight was worried about the solar guard; the situation in the east had turned more chaotic, the army fought among itself, as did the canides. They appeared to be ensorcelled. The Moon assured her that they would be fine, the solar guard contained trained spell breakers. Magic-born gifted with dispelling enchantments and projecting nullification barriers. If the combat was truly caused by a spell, the solar guard were the best suited to save all involved. The bigger issue was their elder sister. They needed to stop her before she did irreparable harm. With no word spoken, the two channeled their magics and transported themselves towards the capitol, hoping to intercept their sister. They would not succeed, the Sun had been moving to fast.

Back at the council chambers, a decision had finally been reached. They would not march their entire reserve forces to the east, there were to many unknowns. The weather-born general railed against their cowardly choice. She said that the other two would have seen her reason and agreed. The counter argument was cut short as the very air in the chamber sundered by the entry of a goddess. With a brilliant solar flare the Sun appeared before the startled council and elders. Her entry blinded any who had the misfortune of having been looking directly at where she appeared. This included the two enamored council members, still latching onto each other, but neither seeing the other. With a voice of finality, the Sun spoke.

“Long I have sat idly by as you bickered among yourselves. Long have I held myself back. But now is enough! I am assuming direct control!”

Just as suddenly as she had appeared she was gone in another flash. The stunned tribesman could only stare at each other and fear the goddess they had angered. Soon their wits returned and they tended to those injured by the sudden appearance and disappearance of the solar being. The Sun herself appeared in the center of the capitol and rose into the air to deliver her proclamation. With a voice infused with the raw fury of the sun itself her voice burst forth.

“Behold my solar prominence! I am the supremacy Sun! I am she thrice-blessed! I am the one who has guided your fates and saved your ancestors from the shadow. High in their tower, your rulers bicker or succumb to the pleasures of the flesh. They have forced my hoof. I am now your ruler. Bow before your empress!”

Each sentence was accented by a rolling wave of solar fire originating from the Sun and vanishing before it would hit buildings. All around the tribesman prostrated themselves before her glory. All was going as expected, until she felt the signature of her sister. The Moon beheld the cowed populace and the almost manic gleam in her elder’s eyes and spoke.

“Sister what have you done!”

“I have finally done what should have been done before your ascension. I have united the tribes under my banner. Look at how they concede to my rule!”

‘You are mistaken sister. Look around you! Their ear’s bleed from your voice. Their eyes seared by your fiery entrance. Their faces etched with fear of your power. You would rule them with your power! That is not the way of the All-Seeing!”

“I will rule them with kindness YOUNGER sister. If they do not see it now, they will in time.”

“Then you shall be a tyrant, ruling your empire of fear.”

“If that is what it takes to end the eon long conflict among the tribe then I shall be a tyrant!”

“So be it. Then I will gather those of the tribe that will not succumb to your rule and forge our own republic. One where harmony and the tenants of the All-Seeing take precedence.”

“You will not splinter the tribe!”

And with that, the Sun began to channel am immense spell, one not used since the ascension of the Moon. The seething torrent of raw plasma floating before the mark of the magic-born grew larger, but unlike normal fire, the center glowed black, drinking up the rage and fear in the air. The Moon prepared her strongest shield, not around herself, but around the populace. She would not allow them to be caught up in their fight. The spell lanced from the Sun, the Moon braced herself for oblivion. But just as the last time the Sun and Moon fought, the Twilight leapt between them. Unlike the last time, now the Twilight was ascended like them and was able to do something. With her connection to the sun, the Twilight absorbed what she could of the spell, the sick black core being the only thing she could not. Using the connection with the moon, she reflected the mass of rage towards a distant mountain to explode. Exhausted from the strong spell and the expelling of the corruption, the Sun collapsed onto the ground. The Moon looked at the Twilight and both released a wave of soothing moonlight to heal those in the vicinity injured by the Sun’s outburst. Then, using the absorbed solar magic, the Twilight transported all three of them back to the castle.

The ball of black flame, does not impact the mountain as the Twilight assumed it would. Instead the cantrip returns it to its source, the tender of the forest. A massive, draconic claw erupts from the ground and absorbs the solar infused ball, merging the magic with its own. The tender cackled, his plan was almost complete. He had almost joined the powers of his adversary into his own. The chaos-touched laughed along with him. His triumph was their triumph.

Unaware to what had transpired at the capitol, the solar guard arrived at the warzone and found utter chaos. Preparing to enter the fray, the magic-born among them shielded them all from being ensorcelled and in doing so sensed the familiar enchantment upon many of the warring beings. The spell breakers among the guard began to scan the area and soon found the spell’s focus. With a dedicated and combined effort, the magic-born shattered the spell around the Totally Ordinary Mineral and in doing so, broke its hold upon their brethren and the canides. With a signal, the well-trained guard descended onto the battlefield. Breaking up any remaining pockets of fighting and scattering the canides. Those that refused to yield fell where they stood. Soon the battle was over, the canides routed, and the injured on the mend. Their job done, the solar guard fell back to await further orders.

At the bastion of the sisters, the Sun regained consciousness and with tears streaming from her eyes apologized for her actions. She did not know what had come over her. She had thought she had put that unchecked aggression behind her. The younger sisters told her of the corruption that was emitted with the spell, the corruption the Twilight had sent to be scattered to the winds. The Sun was horrified that something so sinister had taken root in her. She had almost become the very thing she fought against. The Moon spoke to soothe her sister.

“You have fought the darkness far longer then I have. You have been exposed to its full fury and yet still persevere. We are not all-powerful and as such have our own faults. When you look darkness in the face, it will look back. The All-seeing laid down tenants to us, ones we must follow. These will guide us from following a darkened path. Even if the darkness has already taken root, they will let us rip it from our souls like the weed it is.”

The Sun was still mortified at what she had done and without a thought for what they might be doing, recalled her solar guards. She needed to protect who she could. With the speed of the solar wind, the message was sent and the Solar guard, in a shower of golden energy vanished in front of the awed tribesman army. The spell had only been a short-range teleportation, but was enough to keep them from being followed back to the castle. The army sent fliers to the capitol to inform them of the mysterious turn of events and the powerful force that suddenly appeared and vanished as if a mirage. The messengers found the capitol in disarray from the sun goddess’s descent. The blinded council members had since come to their sense and their eyesight restored. The blinding entry of the deity had an unintentional side effect of breaking the elixers hold on the two. The council took the sudden appearance of the forces in stride and, with the thoughts of the Sun’s appearance began working to truly stop their bickering lest they bring the wrath upon them again. At the observation tower, the Moon reconciled the events of the day to herself. Caught by a wave of exhaustion from overuse of her magic, the Moon’s eyes momentarily took upon a green serpentine appearance, but was quickly banished.

Book 11: Temptation V

A canvas painted to bring forth smiles left unviewed causes the bitterest thoughts to turn inward on oneself.

Temptation of the Moon

The aftermath of the Sun’s descent, declaration, and show of power was felt far and wide. Carried by the winds and gifts of the weather-born to the far corners of the land all who resided within the borders soon knew. Many sought out the missionaries of the triumvirate who, for a generation, had spoken of the three sisters. Some went to learn of the nine pillars and the virtues the espoused, truly wanting to learn and embrace them. Others went to them out of fear. They feared the power of the missionaries’ mistresses and in that fear thought that embracing their teachings would spare them when the reckoning came. Each ones reason was their own. The order of the Triumvirate accepted them all with open hooves.

Carried along as well were words of the mysterious golden army and its connections to the Sun. The weather-born, always the more militaristic of the three tribes spoke of them with reverence. The martial prowess shown by all three tribes and their coordinated effort laid seeds for a more tightly integrated military force. The strengths of each amplifying the effectiveness of the whole by an order of magnitude instead of the cumulative effect the untied tribes had seen with their own forces. Others began to wonder if such an improvement in effectiveness could spread beyond the battlefield and into normal life. The march of the sun had sparked a wind of change to blow through the tribes.

These messages did not pass over the castle of the sisters. The Twilight and the Moon reviewed each rumor that floated their way upon the winds and backs of their guards. The night guards proved effective in locating falsehoods and subtly quelling those that tried to spread false teachings of the three. Their blessing of the night allowed them to blend in with the shadows and sail the winds soundlessly like the bat. The solar guard helped where they could, but most remained either guarding the castle’s perimeter to prevent zealots from breaching the wards or in honor guard formation around the cave where the Sun hid herself after the events in the capitol. So ashamed of her actions the Sun passed the All-seeing given duty of controlling her namesake to the Twilight and entered a self-imposed exile. Meditating on her mind, doing her best to purge any remaining taint. Reflecting on the will of the All-seeing. Reigning in her fiery emotions. Her companion of the eons felt abandoned. The Moon felt she had failed her sister and in time also despaired. Only the Twilight remained steadfast, bolstered by the few remaining friends she had before the ascension. Their lives unnaturally extended by their proximity to her.

The Twilight to her merit handled the sun as best she could, her connection to it easing the effects that the Moon or the non-ascended would feel. Thankfully, unlike the Sun, the Moon still did her duty, saving the Twilight additional strain. The night however sky suffered from the malady of its mistress. The stars were dull and the moon lost its luster. So very little light reflected from the lunar surface that the land was blanketed almost completely in gloom, only the most stalwart venturing forth into the shadows. Even then, all were fearful of the dangers that lurked outside of their view. Every cracking branch, animal call, or even the rustling of a leaf on the wind brought forth terror in the tribes. The ancient fear of the unknown, of the shadows had once again taken root. A primal emotion that the forest had used before the Moon illuminated his lies. An emotion he was wielding again in her absence. His minions went forth, using their dark gifts to scare, bewilder, and bewitch the populace, always at night. Thus the terror became manifest and the night left abandoned by all.

The Moon in her stupor did not notice the corruption or abandonment of the glorious night. Only the Twilight noticed it, but was to taxed by her solar duty to investigate why. This continued for almost a year, in which time the reclusiveness of the sisters removed them from the minds of the populace and the events of the proclamation. The night was abandoned fully to the baser elements of society. Only the dregs or the desperate ventured into the all-consuming shadows. The Moon sank deeper into herself. The Sun languished for her unintentional sins. The Twilight remained, but her friends and councilors did not. Old age had claimed one and a scant few days ago illness claimed another. The three remaining held fast, but the years were showing. In private, the Twilight mourned her immortality and the infinite pain she would receive. Only a letter, given to her by the physician who had tended to her friend woke her up. The message was simple. Through her immortality, they would be immortal. As long as the Twilight remembered her friends, they would never be truly dead. Their actions living through the eons inside the friends they touched. The letter also asked of the Twilight to mend the hearts of her sisters. To restore the precariously perched balance. To bring back harmony. She would do just that.

So the Twilight gathered her three remaining advisors and the captains of both the Solar guard and the Lunar guard. Together they formulated a plan to both return the Moon to herself and bring the Sun back to them. The plan hinged on the Twilight touching upon the Moon’s love of creation, wonderment, and fun that dreams bring. To have her return levity to darkened nights and twisted dreams. Too convince the Moon to help bring so much awe and mirth that the Sun will hear it. Such a reverberating sound that the Solar sister will know that the tribes still find joy in the world and her transgressions are all but forgotten. Thusly the Twilight did just that and after repeated nights of conversation did convince her sister of the plan. The two younger sisters conspired for a magnificent meteor shower on the next night where the left eye is closed. The shower would be heralded by the auroras and nestled within a river of stars, their light all the brighter due to the new moon. The display would then be concluded with a brilliant sunrise, with a breathtaking transition through the twilight hours. All three aspects would be present in the celebration.

With one lunar cycle till the night they had one month to prepare the tribes for the show. The three advisors, one from each tribe and a solar guard, also from the same tribe, went forth to spread the word. Each contacted the members of the order of the triumvirate with the information. Each group then spread it among their flock. From those in the flocks the word spread to their friends and families. Soon the entire united tribes knew of the show. Each settlement organizing a mass gathering to view the events, taking safety in numbers for they were all still afraid of night’s deep shadows. Pleased that the message was spread, the six from the harmony tribe returned to the castle, to finish their own preparations. Unknown to all, the chosen night preceded the summer solstice, the longest day of the year. The forest alone took notice and began its own plans.

Days turned to weeks and as the final pieces were laid into position by all parties involved, the appointed date was reached. Throughout the land, in each settlement, big or small, the excited citizens gathered. For to long had the stars been dulled. For to long the auroras had not graced the sky. The pending return of these mainstays, coupled with the promise of a dawn not seen for over a year had driven the tribes into a celebratory frenzy. Hope had returned that these events would herald the end of the darkened nights and shadowy beings that terrorized them. The harmony tribe assembled their entire group in front of the cave where the Sun meditated. Even the solar guards normally on patrol were there, ready to turn their eyes towards the celestial display prepared for them that night. All was going according to the Twilight’s plan. All was also going according to the forest’s counter strategy. And so, the night fell upon the land and the aurora bloomed into existence.

Before the eager eyes of the gathered harmony tribe the aurora’s light bathed them in calming waves of lunar energy and the stars shown like millions of fireflies, dancing through the sky. Their precise locations forming a glorious twinkling river with the symbol of the triumvirate at its source. The Moon adjusted the stars so that the symbol slowing flowed down the river. The arrayed masses around the cave of the Sun cheered in awe as it progressed. As the night wore on the symbol got closer and closer to the head of the river and the aurora got dimmer and dimmer. As if a crescendo, the aurora’s suddenly burst into full life, bathing the land in prenatural light, heralding the meteor shower. Millions of flaming rocks lite across the sky following the path of the stellar river, spreading out to replace the symbol of the triumvirate with their fiery trails. The voices of the Harmony tribe erupted fourth in celebration. A noise so potent that even the Sun in her cave heard and took notice.

Throughout the lands the same heavenly sight was repeated, but went unseen. For the Moon and the Twilight had so tied up their powers in the display that they failed to notice the forest’s magic about. The dark tender had blanked out the sky in all places but where the harmony tribe gathered. All of the celebratory events now turned to panicked whispers. The anticipation had grown steadily as the night wore on. Many hoping the display to start with suddenness, but the sky remained dark. All of them gathered close around the great bonfires built for light. The minions of the forest did not rest idly by during the night. Their chaos-lord had ordered them to go forth and spread fear; to further cement the night as his realm. So it was that the chaos-earth born chilled the warm summer air into a frigid wind. The chaos-weather born propelled the winds into the camps of the united tribes, chilling them to the bone and smothering their fires. The chaos-magic born transformed into a vast array of beasts and stalked the periphery. Their shadows and roars piercing the night, forcing the tribes to gather closer to the sputtering fires.

The shower ebbed across the sky, whether seen or unseen and the rays of the dawning sun pierced the void of the night. The Twilight poured all of her solar magics into the dawn, splashing all the colors possible across the sky. The forest withdrew his minions and influence to allow the dawning lights to spread. The results were immediate. While the harmony tribe celebrated the end of a magnificent night, the united tribes rejoiced at the sun banishing the darkness and beasts that plagued their horrid night. The sum of the cacophonous sound echoed through the realm and caused ripples through the plane that joined all touched by the All-Seeing. The noise and echoes brought great joy to the Sun, which emerged from the cave to see what could cause such elation and joy after her transgression. When she saw that it was the rising of her namesake she wept. Not tears of anger or sadness, but of joy. She felt she had been forgiven. For the first time in over a year the three sisters were joined together again.

With the reunion, the Sun resumed her duty and the Moon returned to painting the canvas of the night sky with a practiced hand. However the effects of the forest’s meddling had further entrenched itself and the sky painted in all its glory remained unseen. Abandoned by the tribes, cowering in their homes. Only the Twilight and others of the harmony tribe embraced its glory. The Moon tried harder every night to make it more glorious than the next, but to no avail. The ancestral fears of the dark and unknown had been awoken and had taken back control. The Moon became desperate and opened herself to the night and all it entailed; looking for some sign of why it had been forsaken. As she stared into the night, the night stared back into her. The forest pushed a small shard of itself into the deep recesses of her mind to feed on her anxieties, insecurities, and jealousy; to tip the fulcrum of balance; to break the harmony.

The seed found fertile soil in the deep reassesses of the Moon’s mind. For as the lunar body has a dark side, so does its steward. All of the negative emotions the moon had buried over the centuries had coagulated into shadowy mass, lurking in the deeps of her mind. Waiting for a chance to strike out again as it had during the conflict with the Wryms. Instead of the seed being nurtured by the darkness as the forest had intended, the seed nurtured the darkness and gave it form. Thusly a shadowy mimic of the Moon was born and together with the forest, plotted for escape. The two bided their time, the shadow-moon nudging the Moon’s actions ever so slightly to further their goals.

A full lunar cycle passed and still the efforts of the Moon were in vane. None outside the harmony tribe braved the night to view her masterpieces. A voice inside suggested that if they would not come to the night, then can’t the Moon bring the night to them? She was mistress of dreams and as such held purvey over the dreamlands. She would descend into the realm and spread dreams of the glorious night to all. With the next full moon, when at full power the Moon shut her eyes and set forth on her task. Thus the moon came into all who slept, infusing their dreams with lunar magic. The time the Shadow-moon and Forest had awaited was nigh.

The sleeping masses all smiled from the dreams, but to the Moons horror their dreams slowly turned from dreams of her magnificent night to dreams of her sister’s golden sun. Bitter jealousy arose from within but is was shunted away as she had done many a time before. This time though, the emotions we absorbed and combined with the power of the full moon. Thus, with a push from the forest, the Shadow-moon usurped control of the dream fields from the true Moon. While only holding sway in the dreamscape, the Shadow-moon still was able to act. If the tribes would not enjoy her works, love her, then they would fear her. Nightmares descended upon the tribes.

The Earth-born dreamt of a brisk autumn night, the harvest moon bathing their fields in its silver rays. Illuminating the fruits of their labors, allowing them to work later to finish the harvest. A chill wind blew through the dreamscape and the earth-born shivered. Thus the moon was replaced with the golden sun, warming their bodies and letting them continue their harvest. The golden day went on for eternity, as time has no bounds within dreams. Dark clouds filling the sky shattered the tranquility of the harvest. The ground they tended erupted and tendrils like roots reached for them, dragging them beneath the earth. There the roots pierced the hides of the earth-born, feeding off of their life force and innate magic. Time holds no sway here. The pain of the roots spreading never faded. The agony of their life being drained never ebbed. Their screams pierced the night.

The Weather-born dreamt of the clear, open night sky. The stars giving them directions towards their unknown destination. The feeling of the wind blowing across their face as they approached speeds no mortal could reach in the waking world. The exhilaration of it made them laugh. As with the earth-born, a cold wind blew across the sky and chilled them to the core. To compensate the dreamscape switched to the warming sun. Their bid for breaking barriers continued until dark clouds spilled forth from nowhere. They were weather-born though. They controlled the weather. With practiced ease they went to clear the skies, to continue their flight to nowhere. The clouds would not budge. Being fighters their emotions erupted and with a great kick they struck an offending clouds. IN the waking world such a strike would have broken the cloud. IN the dreamscape, the clouds broke them. The feedback from the kick shattered their legs and pelvis. Peels of thunder leapt from the storm clouds and bolts of lightning licked towards them. Bolts struck true and seared away the gift from their back. In agony they fell from the grace of the sky, lightning striking them throughout the fall. Time has no hold here, they never hit, the lightning never stopped striking. Another chorus of screams joined the night.

Crystalline arrays that could only exist in dreams lined the walls of the open roofed tower. The magic-born inside was busy harnessing the light and ambient magic from the full moon, channeling it into gemstones. The dreams of the magic-born were full of advancement. This array, these gems would allow for lunar energy to be used to purify water, cure diseases, and heal the injured. A tweak of the array and suddenly stellar energy to was harnessed and stored. Once more a chill wind blew through the dream and the magic-born wished for warmth. The dream shifted to the height of the day, the arrays now channeling and storing solar magic. One gem could warm a house for months. A matrix of them could light the capitol for weeks. The uses of the solar magic overwhelmed the magic-born and they were lost in the timelessness of dreams until the dark clouds blotted out the sun. Levitating the charged crystals the magic-born went to take shelter from the coming storm, but the levitation went wrong. The gems embedded themselves into the chest and limbs of the magic-born. The sunstones emitted their trapped heat, immolating the flesh of the magic-born, while the moonstones released their healing magic and returned flesh to bone as soon as it was melted from it. The cycle repeated itself as it had for the Twilight before her ascension, but the stones never lost their charge, time would not drain them. The magic-born suffered over and over again. The final screams echoed in the night.

The pain echoed throughout the land and awoke both the Sun and Twilight from dreamless slumber. Rushing to the sides of their people they found themselves unable to break the hold of the dreams upon them. Not even the Twilight’s link to the dreamscape worked. Thus the two sisters went to the Moon for aid. They found her in deep slumber, the Twilight touching Moon and finding her influence in the dreamscape. Here she found purchase and wreathing herself in the power of the sun and full moon delved into the dreamscape. What she found was a darkened plane, the light from her solar armor the only source of light. Reaching out to her sister over their All-Seeing given connection, the Twilight located the imprisoned Moon. Channeling more solar energy, shunted to her from the Sun, the Twilight scoured a path to her middle sister and burnt the chains that bound her. Now freed the Moon joined her power with her sisters and the two retook the dreamscape. The solar might scouring the infection and the soothing lunar waves calming the sleepers and ending the nightmares. The forest saw that his fun was over and withdrew his influence, tearing all the power from the Shadow-moon, leaving her but a ghost in the mind of the Moon. The Moon and Twilight awoke from the dive. The moon wept for what an aspect of her had done.

Across the land the dreamers awoke in sweat stained sheets; the shear terror of the dreams preventing them from returning to sleep that night. All went forth to see how their families faired; to see if they too were taken by the nightmares. Those that awoke were the lucky ones. The young, the old, the sick, and the infirm suffered the worst. Many did not have the body or experience to survive such crippling fear and they died of fright, their faces etched with agony. The harmony tribe, while better off than the others, still suffered major blows. The Twilight rushed to her advisors and found each had perished from the night terrors. Their last scream splayed across their faces. The only thing the Twilight could do was ease their expressions. As the day dawned from the Nightmare Night, the twilight lost its luster and was subdued. The Twilight as well, normally radiating the red and blue hues of the transition, was almost gray. The last of her ties to her life were gone. She was now alone. That day the Twilight cried until tears refused to flow.

The forest supped that morning on the stolen power and prepared for the final stage of his ancient game. One piece remained to capture and then the queen would be his.

Interlude 3: The Question

The only sounds in the royal chambers was the turning of ancient pages by a lone unicorn mare in the center of the floor. The two diarchs lay side by side upon cushions befitting their size, exchanging glances as they wait for Twilight Sparkle to read the text to completion. Another brief glow of her horn and Celestia's face darkens; this does not go unnoticed by the lunar princess. A glow of her own horn and the mental link only the two of them can share is created.

"Sister, you look troubled. Is something amiss with your student?"

Looking up at her sister, the Solar diarch shakes her head no. "No Luna, it is just that she has just read of the shattering and is about to move onto the darkest times recorded in the tome."

"I see why this would trouble you. Even now, the memories of that time still bother me. Should we still carry on with the plan this evening or wait for another time?"

"No, we have dragged this on for longer than I had ever planned to. We must let Twilight know the history and then we must ask her to make a great sacrifice." Pain is etched across her face at the prospect of what she must ask. A comforting wing is placed around her.

"It will be alright. We will give her time to decide as we gave the other one involved her time to decide."

The sound of curtains parting and the muffled noise of hooves on marble break the sisters from their mental conversation. Turning their heads towards the great window they see the third Alicorn has joined them. She has a smile on her face and greets her aunts.

"Aunt Luna, Aunt Celestia, how nice to see you this afternoon. I received your missive while in the North and came as fast as I could, it sounded urgent. What would you like to..." Her gaze turning to the lavender mare so caught up in reading that she had not noticed Cadence's arrival. She recognizes the book being read and her smile vanishes. "discuss, oh... I see, so its time then?"

The pink princess's thoughts turn inward, back to a few months after her wedding when she had read the same book.

Her stomach churned. She knew that the time before her aunt's rule was bad, but never this bad. She was horrified by so much of the text. The death, slaughter, terror, and fear present in the past made her ill. The twisted origin of the one who's face still haunted her dreams was almost more than she could bare. But even that paled in comparison to the first reign of chaos she had just read. The tome's story had left her distraught and disoriented.

"Aunts, how can this be, was it truly this bad? Why did you need me to read this? Was it to plant sympathy for my captor?"

"Neigh my dear niece, we did not do this for any sympathy," The dark alicorn replies, "and no, it was much, much worse..." She visibly shudders as if recalling the events. "We had you read the tome so that you might have a background on what we must ask of you now.

She looked between the two diarchs, a puzzled expression on her face. Seeing this, the solar princess speaks.

"There was a prophecy made over 1000 years ago. A prophecy foretelling of your birth and of Twilight Sparkle's birth."

"My birth” knowing of her wings and horn, "I can understand, but Twilight's?"

Celestia sighs, "Yes, she is the second piece of the prophecy. According to it, when the Twilight was shattered, she did not die, but was split between two pieces. Body and Spirit. You my niece are the first alicorn born since the Twilight's ascension, the 'thrice blessed born of mortal kind shall be marked by love'." Her eyes heavy with the weight if centuries, Celestia continues, "and Twilight is 'the spirit returned heralded by a rainbow's explosion'. Two pieces of the same whole."

Cadence was shocked. Her and Twilight were linked in such a way? "How...How can you be sure about Twilight? I don't doubt my part," her voice quivering, "but are you sure?"

Tears began to flow down the face of the white alicorn, "Yes. I had my suspicions, but they were confirmed when she was able to fully wield the elements to cleanse my sister." regaining her composure she continues, "We do not know what will happen if and when we rejoin the spirit to the body. The choice to do so lies with the two of you."

Having compassion and love as her special talent, Cadence embraces her aunt to soothe some of her pain. Her resolve hardens and speaks, not as their niece but as an equal.

"Princess Luna, Princess Celestia I ask you, as another princess to share your memories with me. I must know what you have seen over the millennia. I cannot in good conscious make such a weighted choice based upon just the words of a book. I must know. I want to know.

Luna was the first to respond, "I will not. Far to long did I stew upon these memories during my imprisonment on the moon. I do not wish them upon you."

"Like my sister, I do not wish my memories upon you, but if this is what you wish, I will oblige."

"But sister!"

"She is far stronger than you give her credit Luna. She will endure."

The glow of Celestia's horn illuminated the room as Cadence sank into a trance. The raw emotions that assaulted her made the torment in the caves seem like a nice spring walk. The love, the loss, the hate, the anger, the relief, the laughter, the kindness. All the emotions of the spectrum from thousands of years of life washed over her. The flow of the vast ocean dragged her along its currents. The currents became a river and the younger alicorn was taken upon a journey parallel to the stories in the tome.

She stood against the forest. She raged against it. She was granted a sister. She fought with her sister. She gained a second sister. She helped unti the tribes. She fell from grace. She lost her sister to the devil. Cadence's scream broke the connection as she collapsed onto the floor, quivering from the deluge. She is gently levitated to the bed to recover. A few hours later she wakes to see the worried faces of the diarchs.

"How...How do you deal with these memories? How can you continue on with such burdens? I don't if I could take such upon my back. I...I need to think."

The solar alicorn nodded, "It is the immortal's curse. You must endure through so much sorrow and heartbreak that you feel as if you will never smile again. But there is also the Immortal's blessing, you also get to experience untold amounts of happiness. It is those events one must focus on or," She turns her head towards Luna, "you will lose yourself to your grief."

Luna's face showed that she knew the latter from experience. Cadence did not press further. The moon princess spoke, "We understand. We will let you think on this. Please go rest in your room. The memory viewing has taken more out of you than you would expect."

Back in the present, the three Alicorns have gone to the balcony to talk away from the younger pony and so the diarchs can do their celestial duties. The sun in the midst of setting and the moon in the midst of rising, the land is bathed in the orange and purples of the twilight hours. Luna turns towards the smaller alicorn to address her.

"Niece, have you made a decision?"

"I...Um..."

"Princess Cadence," Celestia interrupts, "If Twilight agrees, will you accept the spark of magic? Will you reclaim the power of the twilight? Will you ascend to join us in immortality? Will you walk side by side with us as our sister?"

Cadence thinks first of her favorite filly, eagerly devouring the words that had caused her so much strife. Was she willing to deprive the world of the things Twilight could accomplish? Would Shining Armor forgive her for the choice? No, her husband was a stallion of duty and honor. If both chose to go through with this, he would understand. He would not be happy, but he would understand. But could she forgive herself? Could she bear to become immortal while her beloved faced the sands of time alone? The Immortal's curse and the Immortal's blessing...She looked towards the setting sun, tears escaping her eyes. Burying her feelings under the regal demeanor cultivated in her since she was a foal, she turns towards the diarchs.

"I have made my decision."

Book 13: Chaos

The clouds rolled across the darkening sky as the force of the beast’s strike sent the remains of what used to be the Twilight skyward. Higher and higher they went until the crystalline seeds mixed with the clouds themselves. Thusly impregnated the clouds grew into a severe northern storm. The walls of black rolled across the former home of the tribes and it began to snow. The magically powered and stoked storm blanketing the entire region in the crystalline infused powder.

The unexpected snowfall and blistering winds drove the earth-born whom still lived in the area out of their small communities to take in the unseasonable storm. The children played, the adults watched in wonder. The snow was not cold, but unusually warm. Those that exposed themselves to it would not only find a renewed sense of balance, but also be changed forever, marked by the snow. Over the ensuing generations they would gain a crystalline shine to their bodies. They would become crystal-born. For now though they played, not knowing of the other storm brewing south of them near the mountains that sheltered their lands.

The Sun and Moon looked on at the physical manifestation of the beast they had fought from before their ascension to the current day. The great ebon wrym composed most of its twisted body, making it a titanic creature that dwarfed them. Its fist had been larger than the fallen sister, which gave it enough force to launch her remains into the atmosphere. The rest of the body was composed of various beasts from the land, those birthed from his twisted power and those twisted by it. The chimeric amalgam had never been seen before and would never be seen again. More menacing than its appearance was its eyes. Eyes that showed the eons of wisdom, rage, and patience it had accrued. Eyes that bored into your soul and laid all your faults bare before him. Its voice echoed with the power of ages, the kind of voice that haunts dreams.

“Long have I waited for this revival. Long have I languished in Creation’s prison. Long have I planned to met my revenge on her and her children. I have laid low one of her precious daughters. I have stolen the power of her other daughters, her power! I have twisted those she granted her boon to. Her power is my power. Entropy will destroy, must destroy. I am more than I was when she locked me in the core. I am both creation and destruction. I AM CHAOS!”

The booming voice drives the sisters to their knees, knocking them backwards at the same time. The declaration sent ripples through their link to the All-Seeing and the embodiment of creation cried. Her oldest friend and oldest enemy had returned, more powerful than he had ever been. She felt the power granted to the Sun and the Moon in him and could not pull it from him. She had vanquished him those long eons ago only because he had so spent his power destroying all she had created. Now he had regained what was lost and more so, while she had given of herself to the three and was diminished. The All-Seeing feel into despair. The Chaos sensing this could only chuckle.

The Sun and Moon righted themselves and began to channel their given powers. The solar sister glowed as bright as the sun, melting the rock upon which she stood. The Lunar sister reflected the power of the Sun, amplifying it and adding her own power to it. The two prepared to launch the combined attack at the beast when, with a wave of its paw, the energy was dissipated, the attack. The two were stunned. They drew in the power again, but nothing came.

The beast smiled. It raised its paw to silence the sisters. It beckoned them to send their armies against it’s own. The game had begun and it was time for the pawns to be moved. With a wave of his talon the sun set, the moon rose. Minutes later the process repeated itself, the moon set and the sun rose. The Sun and Moon could only stare; the beast had such power to effortlessly change the celestial bodies. He continued. They would have 20 such cycles to ready their game pieces and then it was game on.

Still sensing their connections to the celestial bodies, the two shivered, they felt his alien presence encroaching on the deep-seated connection. The cycle repeated. The sisters planned a counter attack so they would not involve those under their protection. The cycle repeated. The Chaos, annoyed with the two, encased his paw and talon in an orange energy and the two vanished from the mountainside just to reappear back at the Bastion of the Sisters. He had force teleported them. Once again, the voice echoes in their mindscape. They have 18 cycles left, but chaos by its nature does not always follow the rules.

The beast sends a surge of consciousness through his chaos-born and they move. The magic-chaos-born enact their plan first. Having infiltrated the united tribe’s ruling council and their generals, the chaos-born struck. Dropping their disguises they strike out at the terrified tribe members. Flashes of sickly green strike out and incinerate, melt, dehydrate, or freeze those that had not already been replaced. The leadership of the united tribes is decimated in a single instance, but by Chaos’s command one is left alive to spread word of their arrival. The city panics looking to their army to restore order, but there will be no help there. All of the leadership hierarchy has been likewise decimated. Only the squad commanders in the barracks remain.

As the city falls into Chaos’s grip, the earth-chaos-born erupt from their caverns. Their very steps blight the land, spreading the fungus and diseases that lay festering inside their undying, dead bodies. The plague released spreads across the fields of the earth-born, killing the crops and poisoning the waters. In the opposite direction comes the swarm of chaos. Each is small, but ravenous. Anything edible is consumed, leaving only sand and stone. Each birthing two more once it has consumed enough. The three continue to feed. The swarm flows out in a cloud, a desert is all that remains. The tribes people in the beleaguered areas retreat towards the capitol where hope remains. There they will only find despair.

A roaring eagle cry echoes across the land, it is answered in kind. Leonine raptors streak across a formally clear sky, bringing dark, blood red clouds to block the sun. An eerie quite descends just to be punctuated by the eruption of a volcanic fissure. The fiery pyroclastic flow rises high into the clouds and resonates in them. Winds whip up, blowing the sand and desiccated plants around, tornados form destroying the buildings around it. Lightning cracks across the sky and the clouds release their packages. It is not rain that falls, but fire. The streams of flaming liquid plummet to the ground and burn what ever they touch. The flames merge with the whirlwind and a firestorm is born. The magic-born sorcerers and weather-born try to stem the storm, but only delay it. They make for the capitol city, its wards and larger magic-born populace hopefully able to shield it from the chaotic weather.

The Sun and Moon used their powers to shield the citadel from the affects of the weather, the swarms, and the plague. The spectral barrier preserving the harmony tribe and allowing them to marshal their forces. All of the solar guard and lunar guard were rallied into battle formations and prepared to march against the minions of chaos. The enchanted armor adorned their bodies, uniting them as a glinting golden and onyx force. Their weapons glowed with the twin eyes of the All-Seeing, honed to points and anointed to purge illusions and break magic. Arrayed before the two sisters were 20 score soldiers awaiting the commands of their leaders.

Another 2 score medics and spell breakers were marshaled as well. The medics had been trained to treat the blight and illnesses that had arisen from previous conflicts with the forest and Chaos. They were prepared to go and aid the stricken populace as best they could. The spell breakers who had helped dispel the covetous illusion on the rock had further refined their skills. They had prepared themselves to break higher-level spells. Be it barriers, transformations, or magical storms; they were prepared for them. They too would be sent to aid the populace and tame the rogue weather if they could. Clad in protective armor and vestments they too waited their leaders commands.

The Sun and Moon knew the Chaos was not following its own timeline, but could not sense its direct involvement in the turmoil around them. What they could sense was the chaos sown by the forces arrayed against them. The head had been cut off of the united tribes and none rose to lead. They conversed with each other and agreed to a course of action. The Sun would take a small contingent of all three groups to the capitol. There the harmony tribe would restore order and make good on the declaration the Sun made those many months ago. Reluctantly she and her sister would assume direct control of all the tribes and lead them in this time of strife.

They agreed as well that the Moon, the more level of the two would act as the high general for their forces. Her clear head and the healing aspects of the moon would guide and protect those under their command. While the Sun prepared her detachment to move out, then Moon called forth the generals, one from each contingent. The four of them reviewed the plans and the scrying results. All combined they knew what to take care of first. The chaos swarm was the largest threat and needed to be neutralized first. The spell breakers would focus on the firestorms, aided by the weather-born with custom made armors for handling hazardous materials. The medics would be spread out with two solar guards each to bring aid to those affected by the blight and, all-seeing willing, stop its spread and spare the farmlands.

The plans laid, the Sun took her detachment and with a serious of successive teleports they appeared at the gates to the beleaguered city. The rivers of lava cascading from the sky flowed down the sides of the magical dome that had been hastily erected to protect the buildings and populace. Still, damage could be seen on many of the taller buildings. Deep scars etched by the hellfire. With a pulse of her magic, the Sun blew away the clouds, dispersing them into oblivion. The sun shown over the capitol once more. Then, with her guards in tow she marched to the same square where she had made her fateful declaration. With far less fanfare this time she made a similar declaration. With the ruling council dead she and her sister would now lead them and protect them. Her serene grace and arrival by dispersing the clouds gave a different reaction this time. The panicked crowds cheered for her and the guards she brought with her.

The guards were dispatched across the city to the barracks of the united tribe’s army. Many of the leaderless squads and companies tried their best to maintain order, but they had not been trained to lead so many souls. Others stayed in their barracks, safe from the turmoil about. The army was broken as had been the Chaos’s plan. The solar guard moved to rectify this. Glad in their armor, many of the soldiers from the canide incursion recognized their saviors and fell into step. Those that didn’t or whom challenged the solar guards soon found themselves out numbered as their fellow troops fell into their ranks. The ranks however left the Solar commanders less than pleased. They were still strictly segregated by tribe, not relying on the combined strength of the tribes. Each tribe forming entire phalanxes, instead of layering their strengths. In short order the harmony tribesman reorganized the united armies formations to amplify the effectiveness. Earth-born would hold the line with their indomitable strength. The magic-born, safe from the melee would rain down spells onto their enemies and bolster their comrades. The weather-born would harass and flank whom ever they would encounter. The army had been restored and they marched to the square to join with the rest, awaiting their commands.

Calling forth the stronger of the magic-born that inhabited the city, the Sun beckoned them forward to learn from her spell breakers. Together they formed a matrix of spell casters with the Sun at its center. Recalling the barrier into themselves, the magic-born began the new spell. Weaving their collective powers together in a harmonic wave, the spell is channeled through the only one there capable of handling such raw energy. With a glowing flash, the Sun amplifies the spell and a cascading wall of golden energy erupts from the center of the matrix, pushing outwards in a great dome from them. The effects of the spell were apparent immediately. It broke all illusions and enchantments on any it passed through. Those that were not of the tribe were blown forth, carried by the energy and thrown out into the land. Hundreds of chaos-magic-born were expelled, their disguises shattered. Some of the assembled united tribes army were revealed as well to be the devilish beasts and were likewise expelled. The surge terminated at the boundaries of the city, erecting a golden dome that would cleanse those that entered. The refugee’s would find solace there when they arrived. The army stationed guards at all entrances to manage the expected tide of bodies and to handle any chaos minions that may try to enter. The rest moved out towards the planes before the forest to join with the rest of the solar and lunar guards.

The chaos swarm continued to feed, continued to spread. More and more land was rent unto dust. The lush forests and fields of the west that once stretched to the coast were reduced to a small line. Soon however the swarm would devour it and all the lands from the forest of chaos to the great sea would be barren. It was at this point that the lunar guard arrived to tame the swarm. Through their mistresses blessing they had moved through the very shadows, covering the distance in the blink of an eye that would have otherwise taken days of marching. 80 souls stood against the millions in the swarm, their resolve bolstered by the armor on their bodies and the faith in the sisters. The Lunar casters together with the weather-born wove a net of morning dew and shadow silk; a strong, unbreakable mesh that would not be consumed. The Earth-born among them using their strength and endurance corralled the swarm into a choke point formed by the southern mountains. Forced into a cave the swarm grew angry and began to turn on the lunar guard. The net however was ready and sealed their prison. A final spell applied to the mesh and built to radiate throughout the cave would seal their fate. One by one the swarm turned to stone, petrified by the enchantments. Exhausted and with the Moon’s blessing spent, the lunar guards began their long journey towards home.

The United army would take 5 days of marching to reach the fields at full strength, where they would merge with the remainder of the solar and lunar guards. While they waited, the Harmony Tribe’s soldiers tended to the errant weather. The senior spell breakers worked with their younger subordinates began to strip the enchantments that had taken over the sky. The caustic flow subsided in the immediate area, but far more land was still affected. Utilizing their fastest fliers the army migrated the clouds still under the spell within range of the spell breakers and destroyed the cleansed clouds, returning them into a vapor most foul.

A vapor that sapped those that inhaled it of their strength and their will to resist. The brash weather-born that had fool hardily charged through the clouds, destroying as many as they could in one go were the first to feel their effects. Their muscles relaxed. Their minds became clouded. They could stay airborne no longer. They fell. They broke themselves upon the ground. Blood soaked craters marked their passing. The magic-born and other weather-born tried to save their fallen comrades, but the distance was to far. They had fallen to fast. They would have to mourn the loss later, the clouds still needed to be dispersed and they now had the added hazard of the gas. Using helms crafted by the magic-born for when they worked with volatile chemicals in their research, the remaining weather-born returned to breaking down the clouds. Taking care to disperse the gas harmlessly into the vast sweeping winds found in higher altitudes. It takes two days of nonstop work, but finally the skies over the land are clear. The weary spell breakers and weather-born have three days to rest until the Sun returns with the united army. Hope be it that the Chaos give them that time.

On the fourth night they lay camped the Moon joined them, ready to rejoin with her sister and drive chaos back. They were joined shortly thereafter by the lunar expedition that had seen to the chaos-swarm. With the full moon’s glow, she cast a spell of refreshment upon the assembled masses, cleansing them of the weariness that still remained. Renewed, the army waited for a sign of the Sun and the soldiers she brought with her. Before the dawn came on the fifth day and they spied a messenger, but she did not come from the direction of the capitol, but from the citadel. Worried the entire army was roused from slumber and formed ranks, the Moon at their head. The messenger halted, stumbling, but did not fall, the Moon’s magic catching her. She spoke quickly. The forces of chaos in a surprise attack had overrun the castle of the sisters from the gorge around the perimeter. The guards had fallen quickly, overwhelmed by the sheer numbers. The buildings were in ruins. Before she could recount the where about of the families and civilians, the poor mare collapsed, dead from the run and from a formally unseen wound.

The armies immediately wanted to march back to their city, back to their families. The Moon however feared a trap and would not move the army until her sister arrived. Descent began to spread until one of the hawkeyed weather-born positioned as lookout spotted incoming marchers. Fearing of an attack they reformed ranks and waited. As the marchers grew closer, the scouts identified them as the members of the Harmony Tribe they had left at the castle. The soldiers began to celebrate, assuming the poor messenger had perished before she could tell them to expect the others. Closer and closer they came, never stopping, not breaking to see their loved ones, the horde marched on. Soon the sickly green aura around them could be seen. Worried, the spell breakers began charging a spell to break any control spells that may have been on them. It has no effect. Closer they come and soon they see the horrible truth. Their families were dead.

Their throats were slit. Some of their heads were barely attached. Others had their stomachs opened, entrails dragging behind them leaving a gory mess. None had been spared. From the youngest foal to the oldest stallion, all had been slain and returned to unlife. The macabre horde marched on. The Moon tried herself to dispel whatever had enchanted the corpses to move, but the magic around them was chaotic and power washed off them as if water against a rock. The army retreated from the horror show before them. The horde marched on, but stopped shy of the frightened soldiers. With a primal scream, the bodies of the dead began to bloat with necrotic gasses becoming distorted and twisted. The strain was to much for the bodies and they burst, raining fetid gore upon those unfortunate to be close to the grisly site. The horror did not end there, the remains oozed together, forming a score of distorted giants that could be seen rotting the ground they touched. The lumbering behemoths marched slowly, but steadily towards the startled troops. The Moon gasped, she recognized these beasts. It had taken many lives and the two of them to slay such a beast those many years ago. For the first time in many centuries, the Moon felt fear.

The army broke, the beasts, far smaller than the one faced before marched steadily on. Finally The golden light of the true dawn washed across the land, originating from the Sun herself. The armies merged and informed the newly arrived allies of the travesty they had witnessed. The Sun cast a blessing over the assembled troops, bolstering their resolve and turning the anger into righteous fury, their weapons now glowing with the fury of the sun. Thus strengthened the one tribe prepared to put to rest the tortured souls that composed the wretched abominations. With a cry for their country echoing across the fields, they soldiers of harmony charge the beasts. Commanded by the experience of the Moon and Sun, the soldiers down four of the beasts without losing a soul. The victory is short lived as the approaching behemoths absorb the decaying matter, adding it to their own, strengthening themselves and growing in size. The tribe presses on, if they force the abominations to merge into one, the sisters can vanquish it like they did the last.

A feral cry pierces the heavens and streaks of tawny brown and gold tear into the weather-born circling the abominations. The marks of the sky are ripped from their backs and they plummet to the ground, raining their life fluid across the field. More blurs strike the earth-born, denting their armor or striking at the exposed limbs and joints. Turning to face the new threat, the soldiers only find empty air, the beasts striking and fleeing in a single stroke. The weather-born break off to chase the elusive enemy, leaving the air above the army unprotected. The magic-born redirect their shields from in front to above to compensate. The loss of protection so suddenly causes some of the earth-born on the front lines to fall. They are joined shortly by the plummeting corpses of chaos-weather-born and the untainted weather-born. The aerial battle in full swing, but the weather-born, trained to harry ground troops are fairing poorly in air-to-air combat. More of them fall than the minions of chaos.

Their attention diverted, the abominations continue their advance across the fields. The grass and shrubs wilt at their passing, the dead plants merging with their executioners. As with the plants, the bodies of the fallen are also added to their own mass. The magic still present in the corpses permeates the beasts, strengthening them. No corpses are spared; minions of chaos are absorbed readily as those of the harmony tribe. Wounded earth-born, unable to escape the inexorable march are taken screaming and added to the mass. The more they consume, the stronger they get. The more they consume, the less effective the weapons endowed with the sun’s fury are. The united army falters and begins to fall back. The march of the behemoths continues unabated. The sky still rains blood as the aerial combat intensifies. More corpses to feed the tide of chaos.

There would be no respite for the beleaguered soldiers that morning. The ground around them erupted as fissures blossomed into being. From these new gaping maws came the towering forms of the chaos-earth-born. Their frozen breathe stealing the warmth from the very air. Their steps freezing the ground they walked on. If they could not feel warmth none would. They lashed out at the flanks of the formation; grabbing those they could and with strength unrestricted by mortal limits, crushed the life from them. If the touch of the chaos-born landed upon an unarmored portion, the heat from their blood was drawn out, the soldier frozen where they stood. A kick from the chaos-born and the soldiers were shattered like the Twilight before them. The united army fell back further, their once well formed phalanxes broken into a mass of bodies, into chaos.

The Sun and Moon gathered their strength. They would need all of it to vanquish the abominations and the other chaos minions. They looked upon the battlefield and wept silent tears for the lives lost, but they must remain stoic. They must wait until their power reaches its peak. For the good of all the tribes they must suffer to watch their people die.

The solar and lunar guards fought back and rallied the other soldiers. They had lost their families to these monsters and would not let any others lose theirs. With renewed vigor they pushed the chaos-born back, felling some in the process. The enchanted weapons drawing the chained spirit from the body as it severed flesh and the connection to the flesh. But as a storm can suddenly turn so did the battle. Discord came from within the ranks as soldier turned on soldier, killing their own allies. An errant blast of magic scours the illusion from one of the combatants to reveal the insectoid chaos-magic-born. The chaos intensifies as allies soon face dozens of their commanding officers, striking out with abandon. Some strike true and fell the chaos-born, others strike false and slay their own. The bodies began to pile up, more food for the abominations.

The lord of chaos sat upon a throne of ethereal nature, watching the turmoil below. The pawns, and rooks were having a splendid battle. The battle however had become a back and forth. One that would not end soon. The enchantments the Sun and Moon had granted their subjects proved to be on par with his pieces. But what fun is there in balance? In harmony? Reaching out to his minions, the embodiment of chaos fed them his power and they supped from it like eager foals at their mother’s teat. The abominations grew larger and became resistant to the burning fires of the weapons. The chaos-weather-born became faster and their talons sharper. The chaos-earth-born grew strong, their souls bound now by both chain and the will of chaos. The chaos-magic-born had their illusions fortified. They could now cast their spell over any other being. Friends became foes and were slain because of it. The Sun and Moon looked on at the growing carnage and redoubled their efforts to gather sufficient strength to end it in one blast. Chaos decided to send in his knights, hoping to force the sisters to use theirs.

Bounding across the gore soaked land came the shadows of countless beasts of the forest. Twisted wolves made of the very trees in it; mismatched amalgams of creatures; and enormous multi-headed lizards. From the north came the remnants of the polar ice spirits, freezing the land as they were fueled by the chaos below. Their assault hammered the united army hard. Many fell and were absorbed by the encroaching abominations. The beasts as well were not immune to the flesh giants. If they did not move fast enough their mass was added to its own. For a further twist of the knife, Chaos bound the polar spirits to the bodies of the slain, creating new, more powerful chaos-earth-born. Now wearing the skin and armor of their comrades the undead entities struck harder. The lines began to buckle.

The Sisters, finally at the limit of their ageless patience feel they have gathered enough power to immolate all of the undead affronts to the great cycle. Signaling their forces to fall back the two thrice-touched began to weave their titanic spells together into a mighty yin-yang of solar and lunar energies. The moon eclipsed the sun, the ring of exposed flames radiated both energies, painting the land in the colors of twilight. The immense circle of roiling energies centered itself on the ring of flames. The powers coalescing into a beam of searing and cleansing light. It lanced out towards the minions of chaos, intent on obliterating them from existence. It never reached. The lord of chaos caught it in his hand like a child catches a ball. With another gesture, the energy is released back into the aether. A mental command to the sisters indicates that it is not yet time for them to enter the game and he will not tolerate a violation of that one rule.

Seeing their goddesses unable to aid them, the army broke. What little semblance of order remained had quickly dissipated like summer fog. Giant gaps opened in the lines allowing the minions of chaos to move freely between the gaggles of retreating soldiers. Claws of wood and bone ripped into the fleeing masses, opening them up the world. Flashes of icy breath and pale green magic lanced through the terrified troops, paralyzing them, just to be trampled by their own allies. Allies that were in such a rush to get away card not for their fellow tribesman. Those that chose to hold their ground and fight soon found themselves surrounded and harried from all sides. Not even the sky was safe, the chaos-weather-born diving on them relentlessly. Each small grouping picked off like rabbits in an open field. Only one large group proved a challenge. The solar and lunar guards, seeing the breaking of the army had collapsed into the phalanx they had trained in for many years. For the time it held, but as the smaller groups fell or retreated, more of the enemy focused their efforts on those few brave soldiers.

The phalanx moved steadily backwards, towards ground that was not slick with blood and gore. Moving to a place where they would have a better footing and would be clear of the bodies of the fallen. The giant abominations of flesh and bone moved over the battlefield absorbing all those that had fallen. By a dark command the 16 became 8, the 8 became 4, the 4 became 2, and the 2 became 1. The behemoth now towered over the landscape, almost as big as the lord of chaos himself. The chaos-born migrated to the flanks and back of the harmony troop’s formation, leaving the front for the great beast. They collapsed their formation into a circle, not allowing anything to have their backs. Each successive line supporting the other, trying to hold back the tide of chaos that threatened to overwhelm them.

The front most line falls beneath the seemingly endless assault. Their bodies crushed, devoured, or absorbed by the roiling mass. The soldiers lost still inflict grieves harm on those that felled them. For every solar guard that falls, two of the minions of chaos perish. The abomination still presses down upon them and with its new strength, their weapons are but like paper before it. The second line goes down, another 80 souls lost. They pray for aid from the All-seeing, but it goes unheard. With the spirit of chaos around the words fall on blocked ears. They hold the line, but are continually pressed. They would not hold longer. Hey would all soon join their loved ones in death.

The piercing roars of a wyrms radiated across the field, distracting the minions of chaos from their long awaited kill. While the cacophonous sound seemed to come from everywhere, all eyes turned to the sky, looking for the approaching horde of the reptilian beasts. The fleeing soldiers froze as well, having fought the beasts before and likewise fearing them. Seeing that their pursuers had halted as well, the united army took the opportunity to reform lines with what little they had left. Barely a third of their original force. All eyes continued to search the sky, but no great shadows came. A final, momentous roar came from behind the united army as another army of tribesman marched forth. Clad end to end in armor forged from the scales of the wyrms, the troops were likewise armed with gauntlets, spears, and other implements of war carved from the teeth and claws of wryms. Deadly sharp and incredibly hard, these weapons would pierce even the thickest armor. They declared themselves as the Wyrm-born, the members of the united army that had gone to train with the wryms those many years ago. They had returned and as long as they stood, chaos would not win.

The rallying cry of the wrym-born reverberated throughout the tribe, reinvigorating them. Lighting a fire in their hearts and minds. The wrym-born charged the minions of chaos with out fear, their courage forged in the flames of the great wryms. The stampeding forces on the ground bowled over the chaos-born and their pets. The armor they wore stopping all of the attacks. The wrym-born that took to the air swiftly corralled the chaos-weather-born and other aerial threats, forcing them from the clouds, which were swiftly broken. The tide had turned once again, the Moon and Sun thankful for their timely arrival. At the capitol a titanic purple wrym lay at rest in one of the massive caverns underneath the city, a smile plastered across her face. She had made it in time to aid the world’s time of need, but for now she needed to rest. More of her kin would come once they concluding their incessant bickering. They were timeless however, so such arguments could take far longer than most mortal ones.

The bulky earth-wrym-born smashed through the enemy lines, forcing the chaos-earth-born backwards. The enhanced titans quickly pushed back, their strength unrestricted by the limiters found in mortal minds. The tug of war continued with neither giving any ground. The blows of the chaos-born could not puncture the wrymscale armor and the undead nature of the chaos-born prevented the weapons from scoring a fatal wound. The stalemate ceased when the wrym-born used a skill taught to them by the flightless wryms. Gathering their innate magic into their hooves, the raised them high and smashed them onto the ground, releasing the energy. The impact created a shockwave before them, stunning, disorienting, and knocking over their enemies. The ground itself ruptured from the impact, some of the beasts of chaos plummeted into the fissures. Using this opportunity, the wrym-born descended upon their foes, decimating those they could. For the first time since their conversion, the chaos-earth-born felt fear and fled the field. The earth-wrym-born turned their attention to the approaching abomination, ready to fend it off.

The skies to revealed the dueling forces of chaos and harmony. The aerial wrym-born proved faster and more agile than the bulkier chaos-weather-born. Time spent in the high mountains dodging and training with the whelpings of the older wryms. The reinforced muscles and body of the chaos-born allowed them to endure the fast, small hits of the wrym-born. With an almost reptilian smile across their faces, the wrym-born release the secret skill taught to them. Gathering the very magic in their bodies into the wings that marked them, they swept them before them, hardening the very air into razor sharp blades that moved with the speed of sound. The blades impacted the chaos-born, severing limbs and wings before dissipating back into the sky. The chaos-weather-born had shed their loyalty once and did so again. Breaking all bonds with the lord of chaos they rejected his blessings and fled for their lives. They would flee across the great sea, far from the conflict. As with the earth-wrym-born, the aerial wrym-born turned towards the behemoth of flesh before them.

The casters among the wrym-born began to tend to the wounded, sealing the wounds and mending the broken bones. A sense of unease grew on them as some of the soldiers they did not have to tend to looked strikingly like those they had healed. With a glow woven into their ministrations, they shielded themselves from harm. The toxin laced knives of assassins bounced harmlessly off the shields of cobalt energy. Turning rapidly the wrym-born could only witness them blending back into the crowd, disguised as their own. A glance shared between them, they begin to channel the spell taught to them by the wryms into their throats, a spell that would amplify their voices and give weight to ancient words of power passed down to them. Drawing in deep breaths they spoke the words as one. The tongue of the wryms rocketed from their mouths, creating a wave of force, which rippled across the gathered forces, ripping away any and all illusions. The chaos-magic-born were outed and slain in short order by the massed troops. Free from the spies in their midst, the wrym-born complete their ministrations and turn towards the final enemy.

The relentless advance of the abomination had not ceased with the coming of the wrym-born. Indeed it had the opposite affect, the bodies of the slain chaos-born were absorbed and added to its own mass. The wrym-born regrouped and enacted a plan to decimate the affront to harmony. The earth-wrym-born channeled the magic to create the same shockwaves, cracking the ground beneath the behemoth. The waves of force generated vibrate throughout the gelatinous mass forcing it to pause. Swift blades of wind slice into the creature, severing chunks, which fall and form smaller abominations. The striking of the ground by the earth-wrym-born does not abate and these smaller ones are likewise stunned. Finally, the magic-wrym-born release the second word of power taught to them. Their breath does not create the force wave, but instead ignites into wrym-fire. The flames from their mouths burn bright green and far hotter than any regular flame spell. The intense flames immolate the smaller abominations and take root on the larger one. The winds are fed into the blaze, engulfing the beast in a raging inferno. Nothing is left by the time the fire burns out.

A slow clap can be heard as the last of the minions of chaos are driven back into the forest. Descending from upon his throne, the lord of chaos walks on invisible steps till his titanic form settles on the ground. His voice echoes across the blood soaked and charred field.

“Well done. Your knights proved to be far better than mine. Now it is time for the leaders to enter the fray. Daughters of creation come and pit yourselves against your better! Come and complete the failure of your ‘All-Seeing’! But first we must do away with the rest of the pieces on the field.”

With a wave of its great talon the wrym-born are swept into the air by their throats, dangling like puppets on a string. With the other paw he draws runes into the air that ignite in a chaotic multi-hued circle that draws all attention to it. Thrusting his paw through the center, towards the helpless wrym-born, the runes follow along with it. An eerie wind blows and the wrym-born scream in reply. Spectral trails begin to leak out of them as their screams intensify. The leak becomes a torrent and the wrym-born are silent, their drained husks falling to the ground lifelessly. The pure magic had been drawn out of them and gathered into a ball of pure power. Instead of consuming it, the spirit launches it at the two sisters. They prepare to take the attack, but it never lands. They feel the energy enter them. It was not an assault, he had forced the magic of their people into them. His cackle followed with a smugness gained from eons of life he stated they would need all the help they could.

The two sisters had no words for the arrogance and power just displayed by the beast that had plagued them for millennia. Feeling their connection to the Sun and Moon unblocked, the two focus all of their immense power into the spell, adding the magic of the fallen wrym-born to their own. The dark master of entropy stood there, inviting their attack. The thrice-touched planned to make him regret his arrogance. The moon eclipsed the sun again and the fiery ring and intense power returned. The beam of perfectly balanced fury and calm lanced out from the rune circle the sisters had drawn while waiting. Acting as an amplifier it would strike with ten times the power of their previous assault. As powerful as he was, he would not be able to survive such an assault. The Chaos stood there and took it. The intense flash of light blinding anything that looked at it. The light faded and the beast was unscathed. The energy had lanced around him harmlessly. He now held each portion in one of his hands.

“The attack was powerful. Powerful enough even to end me. It had one flaw. One flaw I made sure your attacks would have. They had no harmony. Yes you balanced your powers, but they did not blend, not without the power of the third sister. A touch of chaos is enough to break your spell. You can not defeat me!”

Taking the orbs of pure magic he crushes them into his own eyes, which being glowing bi-chromatically. Raising his now free hands, the grin on his face widens as he crafts a new spell. The sisters can feel something wrong, something alien. Their connections to the celestial bodies are being weakened instead of blocked. They can feel the tendrils of power migrating to a new lord, towards the Chaos. The ethereal nature of the hair that flowed from their heads faded and it no longer blew in an imaginary breeze. Their connection to the sun and moon had been completely severed. Wielding his new powers, the beast of chaos called both orbs forth and, with a motion of his hands, began to juggle the two as a foal juggles balls. The armies of harmony would not bear direct witness to this, they had retreated towards the safety of the capitol to allow the sisters room to cast their spells. The sisters could only watch in horror, both mourning their failure.

Entropy would let them stew in their failure. He could not remove their immortality, but it was for the better. It would act as an eternal reminder of the hubris of the All-Seeing. They would not, however mourn here. Crafting another spell he cackled madly, dragging apart the two sisters as he did so. Encasing each inside an orb of chaotic power he casts them out of the land. In opposite directions they fly, across the land, across the sea. Far from their ancestral home they are stranded. Far from each other they land. The Chaos raises his arms high and the forces thought vanquished return. He had committed only 3/4ths of his armies to the fray. When combined with the surviving ones, but not the traitorous weather-born, left him with half his original force. Together they marched on the capitol. Together they marched to his new throne.

The retreating army could not help but witness the spectacle of the sun and moon rapidly moving, swapping the day and night in sequence. All that knew of the battle that looked upon it knew the truth. The sisters had fallen. Chaos had won. Knowing that none now held the power to defeat this foe, the demoralized guards slowed their double-time march to a trot. Getting to the city did not matter anymore, all was lost. A few deserted, running for their homes and families. The surviving solar and lunar guards discussed a plan as they moved. During the next break, the weary soldiers were informed of the decision reached. The solar and lunar guard, for the most part, would fall back into the wilds, where they would try to locate the sisters if they lived. They would also reach out to the other races and find allies to help retake their land. They extended the offer to any other soldier without a family. Few took the offer. The rest would continue to the capitol and if need be restore order. They would remain there and at the other settlements to maintain civil order. They would need to work within the new order where possible. Those that did not agree were released from service. Half the army fled when given the option. Those that remained all swore an oath to the sisters and the All-Seeing to protect those that had laid their trust in them. The two groups separated, going their respective directions.

The legion of chaos continued its march towards the capitol, the titanic Chaos at the forefront. The chaos-born close at his heals, ever willing to do his bidding. The beasts of the forest prowling the group’s perimeter, hunting and acting as scouts. Together they left madness in their wake. The ground beneath them rotting, splitting, freezing, and melting. The weather turned violent and unpredictable with every flap of the beast’s great wings. Basic laws broke down as the Chaos walked through mountains and hills, sending peaks high into the air, where they stayed levitating. The clouds no longer released water, but liquids of all imagining. From the sweetest nectar to the most vile bile with no pattern to be found. Hail fell, but was not made of ice. Instead large chunks of iron and steel rained from the clouds, leaving craters wherever they landed.

The creatures that failed to flee from the wave of chaos felt its affects as readily as the weather did. Minds broke from the maddening magic that pulsed like waves from the horde. Limbs grew long. Libs grew short. Arms turned to wings. Wings turned to legs. Where once was a single head there were now multiple heads. Some creatures merged with the prey they were consuming, becoming a new, more terrifying beast. Babies grew to adulthood in an instance. The old became young again. The dead rose, returned to life. Creatures that lacked the spark of intelligence gained it in an instance. Others lost their reason and returned to their distant roots. The laws of nature itself broke down. The master of chaos basked in his new pristine land.

The Lord of chaos also began to exercise his new control over the celestial bodies. Day and night blended into one as the orbs traded places with every one of his footfalls. Footfalls, which soon became a dance of victory, an unheard beat playing across the beast’s mind. None in the land could question the wrongness that now pervaded it. Each time the sun appeared it either grew hotter than high noon in the dead of summer or colder than the distant deeps of winter. Sometimes if flared so bright anything that gazed upon it would forever be blind. Other times it was no brighter than the full moon. The moon too was not immune to the changes. Its proximity to the land changes with each rotation. Tides raised and receded with it. Tsunamis were generated and silenced. Not even the great seas were immune from his chaos. Freezing both orbs in the air at once, they arrived at the capitol, still surrounded by its golden barrier.

The spirit of chaos halted his minions at the foot of the mountain that held the capitol and he alone advanced. Growing multiple times is already enormous size; the beast grabs hold of the golden shell and rips it and the city from the side of the mountain. Rubble levitates in the air, nothing falls. The shield was not only on the surface, but created a perfect sphere of protection around the capitol. Holding each end between his hands, the dark lord cracks it upon the peak of the mountain as a chef cracks an egg. Tipping the contents out, the buildings and citizens flow out in a river of destruction, running down the mountain’s peak. None in the egg dies, the unnatural laws preventing the ground from breaking them. The buildings, once made of marble and granite become a torrent of cold liquid, flowing into an immense throne. Houses are created as if from a youngling’s mind. None are killed so all may behold the lord of chaos as he ascends his throne. Reverting to his normal, yet still overwhelming size, the beast sits upon his throne, content to watch the turmoil and drink in the failure and humiliation of his old nemesis.

The All-seeing looked upon the chaos and could only despair. Entropy had stolen enough of her power to reclaim his former glory, a power level that would have left them as equals. But she had given of herself to many and her power had been subverted and stolen by her diametric counterpart. The two who Entropy had referred to as her daughters held much if it, the third sister had taken much with her as well, the power scattered to the winds by her demise. Condensing her power she began to plan for a final gamble. Whether it worked or not, Entropy will have won their eternal game. Locating the two she summoned them to a mountain found in the middle of the land they had been flung to. None know how long it took for the drained thrice-blessed to get there for day and night held no meaning anymore. Finally rejoined the sisters awaited for the All-Seeing to grant them an audience. The All-Seeing prepared to give them her final gift.

For the first time since her inception as the abstract of creation, the All-Seeing took mortal form. Descending from the great void her essence began to take shape. She had chosen to take a form like her daughters and thus a thrice-blessed appeared wreathed in light, a few heads taller than the sisters. Her body was an alabaster white that glowed with a calming light. From her head shot hairs as red as fire that cascaded down her beck and back. One her side she wore the mark of creation. The two sisters rushed forward and embraced their second mother. The being who had given much to them. Breaking the contact, the All-Seeing spoke with the voice of ultimate kindness.

“What I do now I do for you and to defeat Entropy.”

Stepping further back the embodiment of creation doubles in size and begins to glow. Words echo through the minds of the sisters. Loyalty is earned not given. Once earned it is a powerful force. The loyal will soar across the sky to reach you when you’re in need. Like the weather they can be violent one moment in your defense, but clear in another. Be loyal to each other and none can break your bond. The words finish, the wings from the All-Seeing’s back glow a bright red, which detaches from her body, removing the mark of weather. The energy coalesces into a large gem of the same color and begins to orbit around the sisters.

The voice returns again. Generosity is a blessing not a requirement. To expect something from another is to invite discord. Give of yourself to others as I have given to you and others will give back to you a hundred fold. It contains magic most powerful. Generosity begets generosity. Give to each other and your powers will no longer act as oil and water. The words again cease and the mark of magic upon the All-Seeing’s forehead begins to glow a deep purple. As with the mark of weather it to leaves her and jets towards the sisters. A purple gem joins Loyalty in orbit around the sisters.

Diminished, but still strong the All-Seeing’s voice returns to the sister’s minds. Honesty with yourself and with others breaks the illusions that may cloud your minds. Be as honest as a tree. It takes what it needs without falsehoods. It gives back of itself without lies. The honesty of the land will guide you and strengthen you. Be honest with each other and do not let falsehoods cast a pale upon you relationship. The voice of creation halts once again as the limbs of her body begin to glow orange like the sunrise. Still standing as the energy leaves her, a soothing orange gem joins its allies in orbit around the sisters.

A mirthful voice returns, belying her weakened state. Enjoy life my daughters. Laugh with each other. Laugh with those that would give you dominion over them. Do not let the timeless nature of your being tarnish the unbridled joy of being alive. Do not laugh at others for such laughter invites hate and malice into the heart. Use your time to spread joy and destroy malice. A chuckle concludes the dialog and the very head of the All-Seeing begins to glow a luminous blue. The energy streams towards the sisters leaving the chest of the All-Seeing and two glowing eyes as the remnants of her body. As with the other three a fourth gem comes into being.

The voice comes ins a weak rasp now, most of her power spent. The last lesson I have for you is Kindness. Be kind to each other. Comfort each other when they are pained. Do not take kindness as a weakness. The kind can tame the beast where the strong will slay it. Do not hide from each other what pains you. Know that they will be kind to you if you are likewise to them. Be kind to those that follow you and they will be kind to those that follow them. An unbroken chain of kindness will form and harmony will reign. With that the body of the All-Seeing glowed pink as the setting sun and formed a fifth gem that joined its brethren around the sisters.

The two eyes remained, each reflecting the power of the sun and moon, but they were farm dimmer than they had been earlier. She speaks again, but barely a whisper. The voice is like the wind on a summer morning.

“These…are the 5 Elements of Harmony…They are the five outer pillars. When united….by…you…and…reveal…sixth element…”

The words are cut off as the eyes wink out of existence. The All-Seeing is no more. She has spent her all to grant the thrice-touched with a weapon to fight chaos and restore harmony. With the five elements circling them and the cryptic final words in their minds the two can only do one thing. They hold each other and cry for the All-Seeing’s sacrifice. For the second time in their lives they have lost their mother.

Sensing the enchantments placed upon the great vault beneath the citadel by the sisters fade, a group of unknown entities begin uncovering the entrance so that they may gain access to the great treasure stored within. The entrance opened, a small group heads into the ruins and into the vault. Traps prepared are sprung early by tricks and sorcery. Wards are shattered by their very voice. The door is wrenched from its hinges and the prize is revealed. The great lance used to slay the Ebon Wrym, sealed by the three sisters is now open to them. Hefting the spear upon their shoulders, the cloaked raiders leave the vault and return to their comrades. Passing the weapon to the largest there, the group makes for the caves where they would rejoin the rest of their tribe. They had to prepare to unleash the weapon at the correct time.

The sisters recovered from the loss of the All-Seeing in time, aided by the soothing touch of the Elements. Feeling renewed and reenergized the two, teleported themselves back to the land they called home. What they found broke their hearts. Everywhere the signs of the devastation wrought after their defeats were evident. Steeling themselves they tapped into the power of the Elements, preparing to test the powers they contained. Focusing on each virtue within them, the sisters forged a bubble of pure harmonic energy. Wherever the bubble touched, the land returned to the state it had been in before the madness descended. Adding a fraction of their own power to the sphere, it expanded exponentially, purifying more of the land. Pleased by the effect, the sisters released their focus and the gems returned to their orbit. Sensing with in the Elements a connection to their own celestial charges, the two prepared to regain their birthright from the Chaos.

Flying as fast as they could, without draining to much of their reserves the sisters made their way to the former capitol and new throne of Chaos. Their hearts and minds prepared for the sights before them, they readied themselves to face Entropy for the second time. Upon his throne he sat, sensing their approach he did not prepare. He had no need to. Summoning a draught from thin air, he imbibes while he awaits their arrival. They land at the foot of the mountain and demand to speak to the lord of chaos. With a snap of his immense talon he appears, throne and all, before the two. His evil smile flirts across his lips as he asks if the sisters had come to swear fealty to him. Their response was no, they had come to reclaim what was their own. Scoffing, he raises both the sun and moon into the air. They are his to control. The sisters did not hesitate to prove him wrong. The Elements flared to life, forming a pyramid around the two. Channeling their own magics into the apex of the pyramid, where all of the 5 elements were focusing their own power, they unleashed the beam. It split into two streams, each one impacting one of the celestial bodies. Chaos felt his connection wrenched away. Chaos felt the touch of Creation. The sisters felt the connection with their namesakes restored, their hair heralding the return as they once again blew in the invisible wind.

Rising from his throne, the titanic avatar of Chaos snarled in rage. He focused his immense power into a spell of pain and sent it at the sisters. Thousands of chaos-laden arrows cut through the air towards them. None reached. Each arrow had been incinerated by wyrm fire. From beneath the mountain came the great purple leviathan, the ancient matriarch of all of the wryms. Arrayed with her were representatives of all of the other wrym tribes. Their fire proving that nothing burned hotter than it. The sisters noticed that in the purple matriarch’s talon rested the great black lance that had been sealed those years ago. Its surface now covered with the rune words of the wryms, strengthening its power even more. They had prepared it for use against the beast of Chaos. It had slain the body once and they would use it to do it again.

Chaos summoned his minions to battle and they streamed from the city. There were far more than when the battle had concluded. He had converted many of the tribes people, whether willing or unwilling into his chaos-earth-born and chaos-magic-born. The armies of chaos would be no match for the unrestrained fury of the wryms. Their fire burned hotter and faster than the coldness of the chaos-born could strip the heat from the air. The ground they stood on became their pyre. The insectoid minions faired no better. Unable to copy the immense size of the wryms, they could not confuse the enemy and had to rely on their own magic. Magic, which many had not used in a decade. Their queen herself, who was immensely powerful, fell to the claw of the great purple wrym. At her loss the chaos-magic-born fled the field, obeying her last words to get her daughter, their new queen to safety. The creatures from the forest, trusting their own survival instincts fled the field as well, retreating to their dens and caves in the forest. Chaos stood alone to face the rage of the dragons and the daughters of creation.

His arrogance continued unabated. He looked forward to the challenge. A challenge he had not had earlier. He would enjoy proving to be the more powerful being. Reaching out with his hands, the youngest of the wryms scooped up into the air and like the wrym-born before them, had their magic drained from their bodies. His body recognized the taste of wrym magic and drank it up. The wryms kept his attention while the Sun and Moon focused their power along with the elements to slay the beast. Forming a spell matrix with the Elements of Harmony, the two craft their eclipse spell once again, this time with harmony. The mention of the sixth element still sat in their mind, but they assumed it was the two of them combined. The spell was complete and the Chaos felt its simmering power. He hastily erected a shield to protect him from the onslaught. The chromatic beam fired and Chaos braced itself.

The Great purple wrym saw the attack and prepared her own. Drawing back her arm she threw the black lance with all her titanic might. The runes along the shaft and blade began to glow with emerald light as it spun. The missile cut through the air and pierced the center of the Elements of Harmony’s matrix. It joined with the assault, absorbing the energy. The runes working to weave together the powers and to pierce shields. The spinning rainbow of harmony impacted the barrier of chaos and shattered it as if it was paper. The spell struck true and impaled the behemoth of chaos. But it was not a fatal wound, he had moved at the last moment to have it strike his shoulder. The impact of the harmonic spell burnt his body, severing the arm. The energy circulated around him, stripping him of the power he had absorbed from the All-Seeing. Like the abominations he crafted, as he lost power his size diminished.

By merit of his subtle dodge, some of the immense energy aimed at him had glanced off his shoulder and burnt an enormous gouge in the land. A ghastly scar had been painted to mark the wound he had been inflicted. The land around the gorge was renewed by the blast, the wound would not be healed though as it was created by the powers of the Sun and Moon, not the Elements. The lord of chaos cried in pain from his wound. Fury overtook his vision and with a single pull of his good arm, released the lance from the ground it had impaled and threw it at the Sun and Moon, imparting a portion of his rage and power into it.

Exhausted from the spell, the thrice-touched could only wait for the inevitable impact, hoping to dodge it. They would not have the chance. The great matriarch of the wryms intercepted the weapon, throwing her own titanic bulk in front of it. He scales and hide proved little protection from the enchanted spear and chaos magic. It blasted her backwards, piercing through her gut. She crashed to the ground grievously wounded, but had a smile of satisfaction upon her face. The Sun, her oldest ally rushed to her side and thanked her for interceding. The wounded lord of Chaos took the distraction and withdrew from the field of battle. He needed to collect is power and find a way to counter their new weapon. He retreated to the caves underneath his forest.

In their weakened state, the Sun and the Moon could not hope to heal such a grievous wound. The wyrms as well could not; none there were trained in the medical words of power, only combat. With great care they removed the cursed lance from her belly and set it aside. Many voiced concern as to why they had brought such a weapon in the first place and further strengthened it. The voice of the matriarch silenced the opposition. She had known of this possibility and had accepted it. The lance had let them score a pivotal victory and land a great wound upon the spirit. It was her pleasure to have done such for the world. She had lived for more years than grains of sand in an hourglass already and was ready to let another ascend to the throne of matriarch. Her lifeblood leaking out she called the sisters and the wryms to bring the lance before her.

Levitating the gore stained instrument to the claw of the matriarch as she requested, the wryms used their fire to burn the lance clean. With a knowing look in her eyes, she generated an intense emerald flame upon one of her claws and painstakingly adjusted many of the runes that adorned the shaft and blade. Each changed rune created fissures in the surface of the spear. The fissures joined together and chunks fell off. With the last run complete, the lance ceased to be. With a flash of emerald flame, the lance dissipated into a cloud of dust, the runes having done their work. She had but one task to finish before she would let death take her.

She beckoned the Sun to come closer; she did not have the energy to talk louder than a whisper. She spoke that with her age she had been the mother of countless broods, but none had survived to reach maturity. Too many of the other wrym clans feared that her offspring would be raised to gain her mantle of grand matriarch and lord over the tribes and clans. While unfounded, the fear was enough for her young to be singled out and exterminated. Eventually she stopped hatching anymore whelps, tired of suffering the mother’s anguish. Sensing her death was coming, she had one last brood, but only received a single egg. That egg she had left in the caves underneath the capitol, safe from the rival wryms. This egg she gave to the Sun and Moon for protection. The Sun asked when would it hatch, the only response she received was, when its ready and the spark returns. The purple titan’s breathing ceased and passed from the world.

Over a few days, a litter was created to ferry the body to the ancestral grounds where she would be granted the proper burial and rites befitting their matriarch. The wryms took their leave and apologized for not being able to help further, but the succession would require their full involvement. The Sun and Moon understood and gave their condolences. True to her word, the Sun did not speak of the purple spotted egg that was now secured in her possession. With the departure of the wryms, the Sun and Moon turn towards the ruined capitol and are greeted by familiar faces. The Solar and Lunar guards, seeing the sun and moon return to their previous cycles, had known the sisters had returned. Behind them stood the United army. They had rallied the army that had remained in the capitol as soon as they heard about the sisters driving the spirit back. Together they had driven the remaining minions of chaos from the capitol and began to minister to any injured. The sisters were overjoyed that some of their subjects had survived and now rested, would restore the capitol to what it once was. Channeling the Elements of Harmony, the sisters undid the chaotic changes made to the gleaming city. The spires and buildings were restored, but some damages remained. The citizens got to work repairing their lives.

With repairs underway the sisters knew they had to chase down Chaos and end him before he could regain his power and attack again. Gathering the soldiers, the two stated they would go after him alone. They would not put anymore of their subjects in danger. The generals protested, but were silenced. The populace affected by the reign of chaos needed their support more. Some protested that the sisters would not know where to find the beast and would need scouts. The sisters knew where he had retreated. The same place he had retreated to after every loss. He would return to the forest that had sundered his prison and released him upon the land. It would be fitting that they ended him where he began. So the thrice-touched made for the heart of the forest, the five Elements of Harmony circling around them. The generals and commanders who had known the sisters the longest shared nods and, after dispersing orders, followed them.

The beast of chaos retreated to the seat of is power and began to regenerate his missing arm. He merged the beasts he could find with his own body to use for material and in short order his arm was returned. His size as with his original power however, would not return. Those blasted gems and that spear had proven more formidable than he anticipated. Knowing they would not leave him to recover, he began to reclaim the power he had given. Connecting to the roots he had laid all those eons ago, he drew his influence back from the land. Deep he dug to the very heart of the forest; to the very prison that had contained him. Across the land, all who were connected to him felt the pull of their power. The chaos-born that had fled, the polar ice spirits, the dream imps, the savage wolves made of timber, all felt his pull. He drank of his power and his confidence returned. This would be enough.

The forest died. The trees withered and receded back as their power was taken. The great forest, ever free from interference was a shadow of its former size. The trees and their evil were now concentrated upon the Chaos, its ancient tender. The chaos-born felt their blessings pulled from them. Many fought it and survived, some did not. The distance that separated them from the Chaos helped and many would survive to continue on their species, a new offshoot of their common heritage. The ethereal polar ice spirits and dream imps were not so lucky. They lacked bodies with which to resist. Their very essence was reclaimed. With a howl of rage they ceased to exist. The sisters found the forest and its state and knew their foe lay within. With booming voices they called out the tender to settle the fight once and for all. His arrogance restored he willing came forward. This time he would not be caught off guard.

The Chaos attacked immediately, but the sisters were prepared and the attack glanced off a shield generated by the Elements of Harmony. They countered with successive bolts of force from the array that stripped away the power of the Chaos like layers of an onion. His shield could not protect him; he was to weak to fully block the shots. The bolts were also not powerful enough to vanquish the embodiment of entropy either. His constant attacks and counterattacks kept the sisters from channeling the massive spell. He had learned from the earlier encounters to not let that happen. The battle raged for days, neither side giving up. Smaller and smaller Chaos grew, but also weaker and weaker were the bolts shot by the sisters. Often the attacks would miss, striking the maddened land instead and healing it. The Sun moved so her back was to the sun and created a massive solar flare, which blinded the Chaos momentarily. This was all the time they needed. Combining her powers with the energy the Moon had gathered and that of the Elements of Harmony they made one more assault against the beast. His vision clears to be met by another, much more powerful bolt. He feels large portions of his power stripped from him. His body falls.

Landing the exhausted sisters see that the beast, no only twice their size has fallen. They do not see him moving and the currents of air remain undisturbed by the beast’s breathing. He is dead. Turning to each other to tend to the myriad wounds they have, neither sees the beast stir. Neither feels the air distortions as its breath returns. It is to late when they feel the power of Entropy’s oblivion spell. A spell that uses the caster’s own life force as power. Cackling like mad the beast fires the beam. If he falls, he will take the daughters of his enemy with him. The sisters are too exhausted to move; the days of relentless magic use has pushed them to their limits. To their horror, the beam does not strike them, but their three generals. One of each tribe; Earth, Magic, and Weather; had jumped in the way to intercept the attack. Their faces twisted in pain turn to smiles when they see that the sisters are safe. They do not scream, but speak. They thank the two for giving them purpose. They thank the two for showing them what is right in this world. They thank the sisters for being their friends. Their bodies begin to glow a bright blue from the assault and all must turn away from the blinding light.

The light dissipated and the generals’ bodies lay upon the ground, unconscious but alive. Their savior floated above them. Composed only of energy, the Twilight had returned. Her body composed of roiling energies reflecting the rising and setting sun. The older sisters can only stare at the miracle. The weakened lord of chaos shows for the first time true fear. A voice in their heads call to them, the sisters turn towards the Twilight.

“Mother could not complete her final message. Those gems are five of the Elements of Harmony; the 5 outer pillars that support us all. The 3 inner pillars are the Sun, the Moon, and the Twilight. When all 8 are present the ninth pillar, magic, is revealed. I am both sun and Moon. I am the sixth Element of Harmony. The spark of magic that leads to true harmony. The willing sacrifice of those your hold close and that hold you close created the path for my return.”

The Sun and Moon understanding the All-Seeing’s final words prepare to use the full power of the Elements of Harmony. The lord of Chaos tries to flee, but find his legs bound by the magic-born general’s spell. The sisters three take formation in the sky. The 5 crystalline Elements of Harmony form an outer circle, connecting themselves in a pentagram. The three sisters form a triangle inside the center of the immense spell matrix. Channeling their magic together and resonating it through the 5 Elements, the sixth appears in its center, a glowing lavender six-pointed star. As one, nine beams of pure energy, each with a distinct color lance from the array, spiraling together to create a rainbow beam.

The energy impacts the lord of chaos head one. His body contorts and twists in the assault. His face is frozen in terror. The spell from the general breaks and he tries to run, but his legs won’t move. Grey stone slowly creeps up his body. It does not encase him, but turns him to stone. He can feel his limbs grow stiff. His movements grow slow. He can feel his very blood turning to stone, each beat of his heart trying to force the stone blockades away. His heart gives out and in mid cardiac arrest, it too becomes stone. It creeps up his neck and his vision goes dark and his world goes silent. At his brain, the petrification stops. His body is immortal. He cannot truly die. His brain will remain organic. He will be trapped inside his own mind till the end of days.

The task done, the elements and the three sisters land upon the ground. The Sun and Moon find themselves fully restored and reenergized by the power of the Elements and, with a glance between the three, begin to channel them again. A glorious wave of rainbow energy erupts from the nine pillars and spread out in a circle. Everything that the wave passes over and through is restored. Creatures mutated by the wild magic are returned to how they should be. Lands floating in the air are restored to their rightful place in the ground. Old wounds like the chaos-born cannot be healed, they have been steeped in the power of chaos for to long, the wave can only clear their minds of any remaining taint. Buildings destroyed by the minions of chaos also remain in ruins. Only those devastated by the random chaos magic can be fixed. The wave recedes and harmony is restored. Her job done, the energy form of the Twilight, much to the horror of her sisters, begins to fade. They ask her to stay, but she can not. They ask her when she will return, all she says is.

“I will return when I am most needed.”

Ends and Beginnings

Ends and Beginnings.

“I have made my decision.”

The elder Alicorns look on, waiting for the pink coated mare to tell them her answer.

“I will”

“Princess Celestia, I’ve finished this book.” A female voice interrupts Cadence before she can finish. The source of the voice trots out onto the balcony scants seconds later. “I have so many questions to ask you about…” Noticing the other two Alicorns she immediately addresses them. “Good evening Princess Luna.” Giving her a curt bow. “And it’s wonderful to see you Cadence!” Embracing her sister-in-law in a hug, “Is Shining with you? It’s been forever since I last saw him.”

Chuckling the youngest princess shakes her head no. “It’s nice to see you as well Twilight, but to answer your question, no, Shining Armor is still at home, taking care of business while I am away.”

Breaking the hug, the lavender mare turns towards her mentor, with a quizzical look on her face, but before she can speak the solar princess raises her hoof to silence her student and begins to speak.

“I’m glad you have finished the book and it is time to answer your questions.”

“Well, Princess, this copy only had 13 ‘books’, all documentation says that 16 books were recorded. Did your copy get damaged as well during the Nightmare Cult Rebellion?”

A smile graces her pristine white face, “No my faithful student, this copy is fully intact and undamaged. The other 3 books were written after this copy.” The four of them walking back into the large bedroom as they talk. “This copy is the original copy. All others were transcriptions of it or, as was more common, interpretations of the text” Seating themselves onto four cushions, the three Alicorns on one side, facing the smaller unicorn. “The original copy I have is comprised of both the words of scribes as well as the personal recordings of the three sisters.”

Twilight’s jaw drops looking between Luna and Celestia. “This…was the original copy? Those are your…your…journals?”

The other two Alicorns stay motionless, but Celestia nods her head. “To an extent yes. The three of us recorded what occurred so that all of our little ponies could learn from it. Now, the lessons recorded in there are the reason I summoned you and Cadence here.” The Alicorn of love shows no reaction to the comment, just placing a knowing look upon her face. “That reason is, the third sister.”

“The Twilight, princess? I never knew you had another sister. To lose her in such a horrid way. I don’t know if I could have taken it.”

“Yes, it was hard, but Luna and I endured. We had to with Discord beginning his sick, twisted games. Now, do you recall the last thing she said to us? Her last words as recorded in the book?”

Nodding her head, the studios mare responds, “She said she would return when she was most needed.” A sudden thought occurs to Twilight Sparkle, “Does this mean she is ready to return?”

“Very good. Yes, the Twilight can return.”

“How? Discord…he…shattered her.”

“It is true he shattered her, but the spirit persisted. It is the two pieces, body and spirit that must be rejoined.”

Twilight shoots to a standing position, “I understand. I’ll go get the girls and we’ll start looking for the two pieces. I promise you Princess, your sister shall be returned!”

“There is no need Twilight, Luna and I have already found the two pieces.” Confused, Twilight starts to speak, but Princess Celestia continues, “The body is to my left,” gesturing with her head at Princess Cadence. “She is the first Alicorn born since the Twilight ascended.”

“If she’s the body, then where’s…the…spirit” A thought crosses her mind. “The sixth Element of Harmony was the Twilight. I’m the Element of Magic. I’m the spirit of the Twilight…I need to join with Cadence to return her…I”M GOING TO BE MY BROTHER’S WIFE!?” She begins to hyperventilate, “I don’t want all of those fillys that taunted me as having a brother complex in the academy to have been right!...”

A white hoof held to her mouth silences the distraught mare; a large white wing wraps itself over her, comforting her from the sudden realization. “Calm yourself my little pony. You will not need to merge with Cadence.”

Still hyperventilating Twilight takes a few deep breaths before asking her question. “If I don’t, then how will your other sister return?”

“The spirit of my sister is the spark of magic itself. She is the sixth element and exists as a separate power within you. When you tap into the Element of Magic, you are tapping into her power.”

Looking more composed, the unicorn turns towards her mentor, “So I will just lose my connection to the Elements of Harmony and Cadence will gain it? That doesn’t sound so bad.”

The solar diarch’s voice turns grave, “That is correct, but there is more.”

Luna meet’s Celestia’s gaze and nods. “Sister, you must continue. I was not present for the signs as you were.”

“I know Luna.” Turning her head towards her student the princess of the sun continues, “Twilight, your family has always contained powerful unicorns, among them being Clover the Clever. You must know that even without the Spark of Magic you would have been as powerful, if not more so than your brother. That however has changed. Under the influence of the Spark, your magical power has eclipsed every other unicorn in history. This has complicated things. The Spark grants you control over the vast ocean of magical potential inside of you. If we remove it, your power could go out of control.”

Getting up, Celestia returns to her former position, sitting between the other two Alicorns.

“I had prepared for the first possibility. I have taught you very fine control over your magic and you have proven to have great restraint for somepony with such power.”

“Thank you princess, but I’m nothing special.”

Shaking her regal head the sun continues, “That is where you are wrong my student. But it gladdens my heart that you are so humble. The next problem that has only recently appeared, I had not anticipated. Your power has started to mingle with that of the Spark. Slowly they are merging. If we remove the Spark we will also remove a significant portion of your own magical power.”

Shocked, Twilight manages to squeak out a question. “How…how weak would I become?”

Celestia’s expression turns grave, “If we are lucky you will be as powerful as your friend Rarity. If we aren’t, you may be limited to very basic levitation. I’m so sorry Twilight.”

A quite voice speaks, “I’ll do it.”

“What was that Twilight?

“I said I’ll do it. If it’s a choice between returning your sister to you and staying a super-powered unicorn, I will choose family every time. I don’t care if it results in me never being able to use magic again. I’ll still have my friends and family.” Turning towards her sister-in-law, she continues, “That is Cadence, if you want to ascend and become the new Twilight.”

Many things cross through the mind of the young Alicorn. Thoughts of her husband growing old while she remains young. Thoughts of her foals dying from old age while she remained eternal. Thoughts of the hundreds of descendants she could spend time with and guide into fine mares and stallions. The eons of boundless love she could spread. Her thoughts are at war with each other. She thinks of the sacrifice that Twilight is so willing to make. A sacrifice that not many unicorns would be willing to make. She thought of the lessons learned by the Twilight. Of loss and love. Standing up, she beckons the others to stand.

“Princess Luna, Princess Celestia, and Twilight, will the three of you please join me on the balcony?”

The four mares walk onto the balcony, the light of the full moon bathing them in its radiance. Cadence walks in front of the other three, turns to face them and resumes speaking.

“I have made my choice. I have listened to my heart and to the lessons of the past. The Twilight did not have the choice I am granted now and if she had, I believe she would make the same choice. I choose to stay mortal and live out my days as the All-Seeing sees fit. I know the both of you had looked forward to being joined by a third eternal, but I can not suffer the pain of watching all those I love die while I remain. My aspect is love and I feel it stronger than any other. It would break my heart over and over. I’m sorry.”

Both elder princesses nod, having expected as much.

“But Cadence think of all the love you could…”

Twilight Sparkle’s words die on her lips as an intense white glow erupts from her eyes. Power continues to expand from her, levitating her off the balcony’s floor. Wings of pure magical energy erupt from her back, bathing all present in purple light. Her mouth agape, a voice echoes forth. It is not her voice, but the voice of the long silent Twilight.

“Cadence, you have made a wise choice. Long did I bemoan my fate to outlive all those I held dear. So much did I despair that I almost fell to Discord’s trickery. Had it not been for you two, my dear sisters, I’m afraid I may have fallen that day, willingly breaking myself such that the demon could consume my power. Sisters, do not mourn me for I will always be a part of you. Dawn and Dusk are eternal companions of the Sun and Moon. Like them I am two pieces of a whole. Each combined is known as twilight. Both are eternal. Know that when this mare lives her final minute, which will not be for some time, I like the other Elements of Harmony, will pass to a new host. I will always be with you.”

The light fades and the purple unicorn lands softly onto the marble floor. Her mane and tail disheveled, she looks up at the three stunned Alicorns. “Wha…what happened?” As she promptly passes out from the massive magical surge.

Prophecies

Recovering from the sudden declaration, the three Alicorns quickly moved to check on Twilight’s status. Luna’s horn glowed a deep blue as a wide beam of the same color scanned across the unconscious mare.

“Sister, niece, worry not, Twilight Sparkle is only magically depleted from the manifestation. She shall be fine once rested.”

A pink aura encases Twilight, levitating her onto the back of the smallest Alicorn. Making sure she’s both comfortable and secure, Cadence trots to the edge of the balcony.

“Aunts, I will take Twilight to her room and put her to bed.” A small smile of reminiscence crosses her face as similar times when the lavender mare was but a filly comes to the forefront of her mind. “I’ll monitor her for a few hours before I return to my chambers as well.”

“That is a good idea Cadence,” The solar diarch speaks, “I think we all should rest. It has been a tiring evening.”

Unfurling her wings, the Alicorn of Love turns one last time to the sisters, “Good night aunts” and with that she takes to the air, heading for the tower where a bed calls for the young mare.

“Sister, would you like to talk about what has just occurred? I can tell it weighs on your mind.”

“I’m fine Luna, it has just been a very long time since I heard her voice and it has left me thinking of the past.” A clock tower rings 8 times to signal the hour, “I won’t keep you here to wallow with me in the unchangeable past. We need to look towards the future. As for you, night court starts shortly, you should go prepare.”

The eyes of the lunar sister shine with understanding and a little bit of regret. “I understand. Rest well tonight. We can talk tomorrow after you raise the sun.”

Taking her leave, the dark Alicorn leaves from the balcony. Celestia trots back into her chambers, closing the door to the balcony with a gentle pulse of her magic. Another glow of her horn and a large lock box levitates from underneath her colossal bed and is deposited next to her desk. Tracing her horn across the surface of the box in rapid succession, the runes upon the lock glow and it opens. Inside sits a large, ancient, but well-preserved scroll. The golden light encases the text and gingerly places it onto a scroll reader on the desk. A journal lying beside the scroll is also placed onto the desk. Unrolling the scroll, Celestia sighs.

“You were right again Star Swirl. How much of the future did you glimpse while perfecting those spells?”

Igniting a few candles near by, the princess resumes studying the scroll, as she has done for the past millennia. A quill moves occasionally, recording her thoughts and observations in the journal.

Excerpts from The scroll of Prophecy

The Icy hold shall be broken by the burning heart and three shall become one.

Rainbow’s light lays low the enemy. Nine pillars forge the prison.

Thrice blessed born of mortal kind shall be marked by love.

Unmarked, but from each tribe, three shall quarrel and the stone shall crack.

Six shall be marked by rainbow’s light. The spirit returns, heralded by the rainbow’s explosion.

Ravenous swarms destroy the seat of harmony. His return draws closer.

The prince shall become king and the king shall become a tyrant.

On the longest day of the thousandth year, the stars shall aid in her escape.

The sun sets, the moon rises. The moon does not yield to the sun. The Moon falls.

Song shall ignite the blaze. Two shall war for hearth and home.

Encased in stone the meek shall become like the lion. Freedom won through power of will.

A shield of stars shall guard both mind and body.

The spirit is willing. The body is not.

Of dragon born, of magic raised. A bridge forged of loves red heart.

The five fingers of death shall rise as one. Three sets of three thrice-blessed will rise to break its hold. Nine pillars to seal its fate.

Sound shall rock the foundation to cleanse the remnants of the past.

The strength of the earth runs deep, red, and strong within the one who shall sire the spirits offspring.

Lessons learned will fail. The mind will break. A false idol shalt be coveted as friends turn on friends.

The spawn of chaos shall return. The body and its shield will right their wrongs.

A heart of crystal shall herald a new dawn.

Three elements of the weather-born shall combine to sow strife. Poison flows with the best of intentions.

The bloodlines of the tribes shall blur. From earth can come magic. From magic can come weather. From weather can come earth. Single drop spans the divide.

Six pillars shall cleanse the Moon. Nine pillars shalt be restored.

The Sun falls to rage.

Chaos of the heart breaks the pillars. Lessons of the past mend what is broken.

A gift of two will temper the forged blade.

Winged light and rainbow light will join.

Born of earth, but of magic touched. The future tells its secrets to one.

Of weather marked but gift denied. The ground shalt be the home of one.

Horrors of chaos, sealed in prison solid and strong shall break it asunder. The guard of three shalt fail in its task. The beast shall rise. The nine pillars shall fall. In winning it loses. New shall rise from the ashes of the old.

Author Notes

Well, here it is. After about 9 months of work its finished. I have to thank you, my readers for giving me the motivation to continue. Had I not started getting comments on the work, I don't think I'd have gotten this far. So round of applause for all of you.

At 52,250 words, this is the longest story I have ever written. This is also the first MLP fan fiction I have ever written as well as the first fan fiction I have posted online. I have to say, it got a far better response than I anticipated. I never thought in my wildest dreams it would have over 40 people wanting to read it whenever it updated. It's a humbling experience. I also feel it has made me a better writer, which I hope shows in my other works.

Is this how I expected the story to turn out?

Nowhere near. The original story was going to be maybe six books. One covering every ascension, one for Discord, one for Nightmare Moon, and the final one for Celestia's musings after losing her sister. Never did I expect those 6 books to balloon into 13, with two of my original ideas never being touched upon. The interludes were never planned in the first place as well and just kind of happened.

Is this the end of the story?

I don't know. There are certainly places for the version of Equestria I have crafted here to go, but I can't say right now where that will go.

You need(ed) an editor and proofreader!

Couldn't agree more. Its been years since I had to write anything but technical documentation, so I had to relearn a bunch of things. I also looked for one, but by the time I started, I was so far in, it would have been a task for them to go back and fix the earlier chapters. I plan, in time, on revisiting the chapters to fix mistakes and clean them up. Once thats done I may send out a notice to let all of you know. However, I can't really give any kind of ETA on that.

I could ramble on for a while, but I won't. Thanks for reading and have a nice night.

Book 1 Dawn

Book 1: Dawn

At the beginning all were born to walk the earth. Tending to its myriad plants and creatures, they were the caretakers of nature. Each gifted by the All Seeing with a unique trait, which aided them in their task and marked them for all to know. They flourished and tamed the ground. Over time those of like traits formed tribes, shunning those of other tribes. Each took to their own land, trading among the tribes to get what they could not themselves make. Harmony existed for them, until the changes came.

One of the weaker tribes prayed to the All Seeing for power to aid them where their traits failed. For entertaining others, which they were disposed to do, helped them not with food and shelter. The All Seeing saw their plight and was so moved by their prayers gifted them with the power of Magic. This magic marked them further then the traits ever had. All of the tribe and their descendants would be like marked with the symbol of magic on their head. The tribe became addicted to the newfound power, using it to take revenge on the tribes who had shunned their traits. Soon chaos erupted and the harmony was broken.

The all seeing, having anticipated this chained the power to her eyes. Her right eye, the sun, shown its radiance upon the land to let the flora grow. Her left eye, the moon, brought forth slumber, rejuvenating all and restoring reserves lost during the day. The power was so bound that the tribe was now burdened with opening and closing the eyes of the All Seeing. If they did not, it was night or day eternal. If they did not, their power would exhaust itself and the gift leave them. The task given to them so exhausted them that they could no longer make war on the other tribes, and harmony was restored.

But the malice from those wronged by magic had suffused the ground and festered. The land, which itself lived, drank of this discord, and from it grew a forest which the tribes could not control, could not tame, and would not dare enter. Mistrust of the wielders of magic further strengthened the burgeoning power under the land. It liked these feelings and wanted to drink of it more. Over time, as it’s forest grew it disrupted the weather, sending the tribes into panic, into chaos. The wind destroyed their homes; the snow froze their crops; the rains drowned the fauna they protected; the thunder shook them, disrupting their routines. Each tribe blamed the other. Had the sun been kept in the sky longer the snows would not have come; Had the lands been tended better the rivers would not have crested; Had the homes been sturdier, the winds would not have touched them. The forest grew stronger and so did its tender, sleeping with in the land.

One tribe, enraged at the All Seeing for letting this happen demanded the power to conquer the weather as they had conquered their land. The All Seeing, having no other solution gifted the tribe with what they had asked for, marking their backs as she had marked the heads of the magic tribe. With their strength and unending courage the newly empowered tribe tamed the weather. As with the magic tribe, the weather tribe could not make war as they now were bound to the weather. If they did not continue to tame and control it the weather would once again wreck havoc and they would lose the All Seeing’s gift. Harmony returned for a time, but the three races would no longer see eye to eye with each other. The land drank deep of the simmering conflict. The land grew stronger.

The weather tribe, using their gifts built a sprawling settlement among the clouds, where only they could tread. From on high they controlled the weather, guiding it to when and where it was needed, but they demanded tribute from the other tribes for their services. They cloud city they maintained, could not allow them to grow their own food so from the unblessed tribe who tended the earth like the days of old, they demanded food. For with out the rains they brought, the plants would not grow. From the magic tribe they demanded the metal and gems crafted by their artisans, for just as with the plants, the cloud city had no ore to make weapons, armor, and jewelry with. The magic tribe acquiesced, afraid the rains would not come and their wells run dry. The resentment of the others towards the weather tribe grew, the forest’s tender grew stronger.

The magic tribe, feeling they were superior to the others used their gifts to build a magnificent city adorned with gemstones and paved with rare stone and metals. From the spires of the city they focused their magic to raise and lower the sun and moon, as was their charge. Still, like the other blessed tribe, they too demanded tributes for their work. From the unblessed, they demanded food, which was nurtured by the sun the raised each day. . While they could grow their own, unlike the weather tribe, they refused such a menial task, one that was beneath them. The weather tribe gifted weapons and armor to the magic tribe as tributes, afraid of the stories from when the magic tribe made war on them. Fear of the magic tribe ran deep, the forest’s roots were nurtured by it, strengthened by it.

The “unblessed” as the other tribes referred to them, who stood by their sacred duty of tending to the land also kept their ancestral lands. Tending the fields and herds their parents and grandparents had likewise tended. While they did not have the gift for magic or weather like the other tribes, they had a unique bond with the earth, strengthened through adversity and grown like the trees they tended. Still they were reliant on the gifts of the other tribes if they wanted to continue their duties. They provided food to the other two tribes for their aid, not of their own will. Their hands were forced, but they were secure knowing that without them, the other tribes would fall. Pride comes before the fall and the forest would make them know it.

It was time. The forest stretched its roots far under the land, draining the life from the fields so nurtured by the tribe. The plants withered and died. The roots drank the water. The herds died, the tribes went thirsty. The roots tapped deeper, into the very heart of the world, sapping it of its power. The roots forced the molten rock from the core to the surface. It was time.

The land erupted, darkness reigned, the tribes scattered, the weather untamed, magic revolted against its wielders, the land drank deeper of the chaos it caused. The tribes, seeing the origin of the problem assaulted the forest with what they could muster. Each tribe fighting on its own, each tribe failing. One stood against the forest where many had fallen. One born of all three races, but marked with none of their traits held fast against the assault. Battered by the winds; burnt by the flames; scarred by the thorns; it refused to yield. The All Seeing wept from its right eye, for the ones act so touched her. These tears fell upon the lone defender, binding it directly to the right eye of the All Seeing, marking it off all three races. The Sun rose, the dawn came, the darkness receded. Its radiance scoured the land, cleansing it of the taint. The forest stood firm. The brighter the light, the darker the shadow. The Sun had a fortress constructed at the edge of the forest to push back its advances. The Sun stood vigil there, fighting the shadow, protecting the tribes.

Book 12: Temptation VI

Book 12: Temptation 6

"The creation of bonds and the destruction of bonds are two of the most powerful forces known. Their creation fuels the universe, their destruction poisons it."

The Last Temptation

The population mourned their losses from that terrible night. Children buried parents. Parents buried children. Soldiers buried whole families. No city was left untouched. No life left unblemished. To emphasize the mood the weather-born manipulated the clouds to shroud the land in a sea of somber clouds. For the most part funerals were skipped, the number of dead that needed burying superseding the normal rituals. Whole cemeteries sprung up over the course of the following weeks. The constant tears and wails of the populace echoed across the land, drenching it. The forest drank deep and grew stronger.

The castle of the sisters mourned as well. They had lost friends, family, lovers as well. The banners were flown at half staff and shrouded with blank. As with the others, funerals were avoided and the deceased buried with honors. The lone exception was for three mares, the top advisors to the Twilight and her dear friends. All the harmony tribe were in attendance for the event. Each coffin escorted by a half dozen solar guards as their pallbearers. The Sun officiated the occasion, thanking each for their service and for helping her recover herself. The Moon did not speak, silently languishing in the back, blaming herself and trying to track down the remnants of her dark side. The Twilight tried to speak, but could not. The pain was to much and all that came was the pouring of tears.

The ceremony lasted an hour more, with the descendants of the three each talking and sharing memories of them. The words were lost on the Twilight, so caught up in her own that she did not hear the thanks aimed at her for allowing the advisors to live far longer than they should have. To have blessed them such that their wisdom could be passed down. The speeches over, the three ornate coffins were interred into the ground, next to the other two advisors who had preceded them to the afterlife. The three sisters them commenced to consecrate the land. From the Moon the three coffins were enchanted to never let their bodies rot, an eternal testament to them. From the Sun a protective enchantment that would keep them sealed forever in the ground so that none may disturb them. From the Twilight came grave markers, each formed from a single large gemstone.

For her magic-born friend a giant diamond was magically shaped into a headstone, her name etched into the surface for all eternity. A small magical light would forever burn inside, illuminating the stone as she had brought the same light to the world. The weather-born was granted a headstone of sky sapphire. A brilliant blue stone enchanted to split the light of the rising and setting suns into a vast rainbow path, always leading home. Lastly the earth-born's grave was marked with a monumental fire ruby. The natural energies within warming the ground such that winter snows would never form and anyone there would feel welcomed.

The markers laid, the assembled masses dispersed to return to their own duties and grieving. The Sun returned to the audience chamber to tend to the grievances of their people. The Moon retreated to her room to mediate further and rest for her night duty. Emotionally drained and physically exhausted, the Twilight returned to her chambers to rest. She entered sleep's embrace as soon as her head hit the pillow, but she did not dream. Scared of the dreams that may await her, she had cut herself off from the dream fields and from her sister's dominion.

Slowly the balance was restored. The Sun fully returned from her stupor tended the day and the Moon sure she had squelched the dark side guarded the night. The Twilight helped as needed, but splitting her time between aiding her sisters and visiting her friends. The populace of the tribes as well returned to a semblance of normality, the pain would fade with time and life needed to be lived. The forest let them enjoy their complacency and was rewarded. A month after the night of nightmares, the Twilight finally let herself dream again. The forest, using his stolen lunar magic intercepted her and brought her to his dream fields.

The Twilight was greeted by all five of her deceased friends, each looking as youthful as she still did. They bade her walk with them through a vast expanse of green, pressing her for the details of what had transpired since their passing. Information she gladly shared with them and by relation, the forest. After the conversation dried up, they frolicked like they had when young, before the Twilight's ascension. It was like they had never been separated. Sensing the coming dawn, the Twilight regrettably parted from them. She told them she would see them again. They said that they will always be with her. With that she exchanged a hug with each, the forest injecting a subtle part of him with each hug. So small was each piece that alone none could detect it.

The Twilight awoke the most rested she had been since the war with the canides. The dawn that morning was vibrant and full of magic. Every being that beheld it was filled with newfound life. The forest to felt the new dawn and relished it in his own way. His chaos-born strengthening themselves from the raw emotion in the sunrise. The elder sisters were heartened to feel the glorious dawn, knowing that the youngest would be alright.

Night after night the process repeated. The Twilight would visit her friends in the forest's dream fields, relate her day, and be further tainted by the warden. Each dawn would be glorious, further strengthening the chaos-born. It all came to a head when the forest finally had a full beach head inside her mindscape. With the seeds in place, he dispatched five of his best chaos-magic-born to the castle of the sisters. Each was enchanted with a mixture of the stolen lunar and solar magic, masking them from anything but a direct scan by the Sun or Moon. Together they would move to the next phase of the game.

That day she could not help but hear her friends calling her throughout the day. At times she would catch glimpses of them, just as young as they were in her dreams, but never for more than a second. She blamed it on the descendants of her friends looking so similar and went about her day. That night the Twilight was thrown into confusion when her friends asked her if she had seen them that day, if she heard their call. She awoke with a start and wasted no time in consulting the lunar sister.

The Moon informed her sister that is was a sign of her deep love and bonds with her friends. The trauma of losing them so suddenly and the family resemblance of their kin has lead to her mind playing tricks on her. She admitted to the Twilight that she as well had similar experiences after her ascension as she had to suffer the pain of losing those close to her as she would not age. The Sun as well had to deal with it. Such was the curse of immortality. In time the pain would fade and she would learn to deal with it. The Twilight did not want to get used to losing her loved ones, but understood that it was inevitable. With a resolve she retired back to bed.

The dreams at night and the encounters during the day continued unabated. Each day the sightings grew loner, the voices grew louder. Slowly the Twilight began to be unable to tell herself that it was in her mind. Slowly the forest pushed further into her mind. The voices began to change. They no longer asked of her day, but began to tell her how they could be together again. They told her to travel north to the other side of the mountains. There they would meet her. She consulted again with the Moon, who, while troubled, thought it best for the Twilight to go on her journey. To finally put her mind at rest. The next morning she did just that.

The journey was long and she would undertake it alone. She flew for as much as possible, but being a weaker flier, most of the time was spent walking. Her days were haunted by the specters of her friends. They always seemed to be made of fog, always at the corner of her vision. The nights were plagued by dreams pushing her on, towards her destination. Each day they came closer, each night more insistent. She prayed to the All-Seeing for strength to endure until she reached her destination.

Beyond the mountains the Twilight found her destination, the decaying ruins of the outpost the three advisors had resided in those many years ago. There she faced her friends. The forest fully manifested the impersonations of her friends. They came to her and beckoned her to walk with them through the ruins. As one they spoke.

"See these lands abandoned to time and neglect? Like them we age, wither and die while you will last to see the end days. You covet our memories and will not let us rest. You lie to yourself that we are gone. You abandon us to time. You blame us for your unhappiness. You hate us for going where you cannot."

The Twilight suffered their barbs for she knew them to be true. She hated herself for it. She wished she could join them. She wished they would rest and let her rest. She called out for help. She called out for relief.

"We know your suffering. We know what you wish. Cast off your gifts. Cast off the ascension and join us. You know how. Do it an we will never be apart again."

The specters repeated over and over, the Twilight's resolve faltered. She called upon her gifts and began to build up power. She began to strip the Solar and Lunar energy from herself. The All-Seeing felt this and took notice. The Sun felt this and took notice. The Moon awoke and took notice. The two sisters rushed towards where their sister was, to aid her. To stop her from making a mistake.

The All-Seeing tapped into her link, filtering through the memories and dreams and found out what had caused this. She saw the forest and its influence. She saw the signature of her old enemy and was afraid. Using a portion of her power she summoned forth the spirits of her friends and sent them to her. Their descent shattered the illusion the forest had erected. The Twilight stopped what she was doing and reclaimed the energy she was about to release. Her friends soothed her mind. Her friends forgave her. Her friends beckoned her to live on as a testament to who they were.

The bonds were restored and the Twilight was renewed. The forest was not happy and sensed the direct involvement of Creation, this would have to do. The last act was about to begin. It was time for his vessel to awaken. It was time for him to bond to it. It was time for his armies to march. Moving his chariot to the mountains he enters it, merges with it, becomes it. The ground shudders. The land shatters. The Lord of chaos and embodiment of entropy emerged upon the land.

The twisted body made its way to the Twilight who was still reeling from the mental chaos. He descends upon the thrice-blessed, his laugh echoing across the vale. Before the Twilight can react the tender snaps his claw and the ground claims the Twilight. She feels the crystal take hold of her. It starts with her legs and creeps up her body. She is not covered with crystal, but is turned into crystal. Shear terror is etched upon her face and is frozen that way. She has become a crystal.

The two sisters feel her being cut off from them. They feel her terror. They arrive to late. They behold the discordant beast before him and their crystalized sister. His draconic mouth smirks.

"The players have all arrived."

With a fanged smile he draws back his arm and shatters the Twilight into millions of crystalline shards. The force sending the cloud that was their sister cascading into the air, spreading across the northern lands. The sisters and All-Seeing can only watch in horror. No magic can save their sister now.

"And now it is all complete"