Morrigan laughed as he ran the dummy through with his lance, his eyes burning with delight at the thought of another slain foe. Another battle won. Around him, knights stared or fought their own particular practice dummies. Though, why Morrigan was there, they had no idea. The young colt had grown into a man at an alarming rate, with the strength to boot. He had risen in their ranks quite quickly over these past 4 years, and was already right hoof to their captain, Cedar Shield. With his natural power and strength, he of all ponies did not need to practice.

Morrigan slipped off his helmet, wiping the sweat from his brow. His heart was pounding from the adrenaline surging through him. The thrill of the battle, of winning – It burned in his soul. In this instant, he could do anything. He could kill anypony, protect anyone he loved. Nothing could defeat him when he felt like this.

He turned as he felt a hoof on his back. “Practicing again, I see?” Morrigan smiled at the Cedar Shield. In the 4 years since Morrigan has first sparred with him, he had visibly aged. His mane now shone with silver, and his eyes with a wisdom that comes only from experience. The captain of the guard nodded. “'Tis always good to keep thy skills honed for the battles to come.”

Morrigan nodded, the grin on his face stuck there. “Methinks mine skills are honed to a sharper edge than my blade, Sir.”

Cedar looked at him seriously. “Morrigan, would’st thou join me in my tent?” Morrigan sensed the gravity of the moment and nodded. Together they walked across the training fields to the captain’s tent.

Inside, there was nothing unnecessary. No needless decorations adorned the wooden table in the middle of the tent. The canvas surrounding them was barren as well, thin enough to let dim light in. There were two chairs, and Cedar motioned for Morrigan to sit in one. Both ponies sat down, and Morrigan couldn’t help but feel the uneasiness of this moment. His captain looked… Tired. More tired than Morrigan had ever seen him. “Is thy health in good fortune, Sir? Methinks thou look as over-exhausted as a widow with child.”

Cedar massaged his temples, sighing. “Thou art right, Morrigan. I am exhausted. More exhausted than thou hast ever seen me.”

“Whatever is the problem, Cedar,” Morrigan said, genuinely concerned for his leading officer.

“I thank thee for thy concern, Morrigan… but, I am afraid that this tiredness is not brought on by any sickness. Instead, it is brought on by a monster that plagues these lands…” Cedar sighed, resting his head against his hooves on the desk. “Mayhaps, hast thou heard tales of Changelings?”

Morrigan’s eyes widened. Nostalgia passed over his eyes as he remembered the fantasies his mother had spun in his mind at a younger age. Tales of changeling beings, switching place with small children whom had gone where they weren’t supposed to. Changelings, who took their exact shape and form, and stole the love of those around them. “Dost thou mean to tell me such beasts are truly real?”

“They have been real for eons, Morrigan. They have hidden themselves, kept themselves secret. Now, they have begun to rise once more. It is our sacred duty to our kingdom to rid the lands of this horror…” Cedar sighed. “I am afraid, Morrigan. These beings hath shattered mine heart, soul and will with their idleness, lulled me into a foalish peace… I find myself ill-prepared for the tasks ahead.”

Morrigan stood, his eyes glimmering as the thoughts of battle swarmed in his mind. “Is there to be battle, Sir? I assure thee, with all mine heart, I shall be thy best knight.”

“Sit down, Morrigan!” Startled by the anger in his commander’s voice, Morrigan hastily sat. “Methinks thine strength betrays thine mind, Morrigan. These… things take the shape, form, everything of anypony. Thine eyes betray thee in this war…” Shield sighed, standing. Morrigan watched as he began to pace. “Thou art too willing for this fight, Morrigan.”

“What do you mean, Sir? Dost thou think mine strength lacking? Mine heart to falter on the field?”

“Neigh, Morrigan.” Cedar sighed once again. “Morrigan, allow me to be blunt – Methinks thou should join me in battle, my right side.”

Morrigan’s first reaction was one of glory – Until he thought a moment. “Sir, if I am to be next to thee in the battle, then my blade shall taste little blood. We are near the back of the lines in formation, and thus be unable to fight properly.”

“Morrigan, allow me to rephrase… I order thee to my right side. Thou shall witness this battle from afar.”

Morrigan knew he could have stood up against the captain. He could’ve protested for hours, even drawn his sword. But he also knew his place. He knew his commanding officer was just that – His commanding. He had to follow his orders – That was his place. He hung his head. “As thou command, Sir. May I return to my home now, Sir?”

“Please, Morrigan, do so.” Morrigan stood and saluted stiffly. As he turned to walk out, he heard Cedar turn. “Oh, and Morrigan? About the blood thy sword wishes to taste… Methinks these beasts do not shed it. Terribly sorry.”

Morrigan nodded and turned, unnerved by his captain’s words. He walked out, thinking over his orders. To follow behind the charge had never been in his fantasies of war and battle. He had always led the charge, slaying foes left and right. The smell of blood was in the air, always the enemy’s. The thought of it sent chills down his spine.

He walked past the training fields, his mind wandering with him. Perhaps the captain wanted him near him for safety? No, that didn’t make sense. The captain’s strength was almost equal to his own. He would not fear for his own protection…

Right?

“What manner of beasts are these that he may question his own strength,” Morrigan asked himself. He thought hard to the tales he had heard as a child of the changelings. They were hideous monsters, disguised as those you loved. They historically took the form of the love of your life, feeding from the love you had to that pony. They would go so far as to enchant you into loving the pony in question.

Morrigan was so deep in thought; he did not see the mare before it was too late. In a clatter of armor, he stumbled back from the mare he had run into. To his surprise, the pale mare with red spots stood in front of him, just as surprised as he. “K-Katrina,” he said, his eyes wide.

Her beauty had merely grown in the 4 years he had watched her from afar. Her mane only darkened in the glare of the sun, highlighted by the rays. Each movement she made shifted the emerald strands, like leaves dancing. In her braids rested flowers, almost reminding him of the vines of a tree, blossoms resting in its grasp. Her eyes were the most lovely, however. He had never gotten the chance to see the softness, the gentleness of those eyes. They sparkled with curiosity and kindness, as blue as the sky above. “G-Good morrow, Sir,” she said, sending electric shocks through his heart. Her voice was like a bell, chiming its beautiful song.

“I-I am sorry to have bumped into thee,” he said, cursing the blush rising to his cheeks silently.

“Thine apology is unneeded. I’m fine.” she said with a small smile. He smiled back, a bit shyly. “Hast thou been training all morn?”

Morrigan nodded. “’Tis always good to be prepared for a battle.”

Katrina sighed softly. “All this talk of battle… I truly wish no wars need be fought at any point in time.”

“’Tis sadly something which has happened through all our history. Methinks, however, thine sentiment a pure one. Whilst battle can bring glory, it is still dangerous.” Morrigan felt his heart flutter as she blushed. All of the courage and strength on the training fields were nothing compared to the strength needed not to ask her hoof in marriage at this exact moment.

Katrina turned her head away softly, trying to conceal her blush. “I am glad thou thinkest so, Sir Knight.”

“Please,” he said, smiling. “Mine name is no curse. I am called Morrigan by many, and I wish for thee to be no exception.”

Katrina looked him right in the eyes, taking in his features. “As thou wish… Morrigan.”

Morrigan felt his heart skip a beat as she said his name. Katrina felt hers do the same. Both knew the name held meaning to both of them – Especially when spoken by her. Morrigan opened his mouth. “Katrina, would’st thou do me the honor of joining me for supper tomorrow?” The words tumbled out of his mouth faster than his mind could process them.

Her pale face turned rosy with her increasing blush as she nodded, never once loosing contact with his eyes. “I-I… It would be my delight, Sir Morrigan.”

Morrigan beamed. “R-right after the evening bell toll.” Katrina nodded. Her simple nod made him feel stronger than a full army of changelings. He could do anything from her simple nod. Glancing around, he saw nopony near. He saw his chance.

Morrigan took it.

With a small movement, he kissed the lady’s cheek.

Katrina gasped at the sentiment, smiling despite herself. She knew if anypony had seen, the rumors of horror would begin around the village. A Pegasus and an earth pony were not meant to be – But, after all, perhaps old prejudices were to be forgotten. Morrigan’s father certainly did not care for them. Why should she? “M-Morrigan…”

“I shall see thee then,” he said softly, blushing and smiling at the mare whom he knew was the love of his life. Glancing at the sun, he quickly galloped away, eager to get home.

He had to tell somepony. He knew. His father might not understand – After all, Katrina was 17. She was in the prime marrying age, and Morrigan would have to fight for her to remain by her side. His mother, on the other hoof…

He didn’t knock before entering his home. “Mother! I have great news this eve.” He smiled to himself and quickly discarded his armor and weapon. This would be a day to remember.

Author's Note

I know, I know, bit fast this chapter. Been raring to go, and this ship is one of my favorites~

) For reasons you all will see later.