The Wardens of Edgewood

Chapters

Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four

Chapter One

The workshop was dark, lit only by the brilliant blue aura of magic spilling from the sharp horn of the unicorn sitting at his workbench. He preferred it that way; the unfinished projects strewn about on the racks and other benches could not distract him if he could not see them. Instead, he was solely focused on the intricate components levitating in front of him. Gears moved into place with a motor, a casing sliding over to conceal the magnetic coiling of the electrically driven machine. The gears connected to a socket, and into the socket he tested the fit of several different bits before resuming his work.

To the motor, he attached a larger socket of a different variety, with two leads for positive and negative electrical connectivity. As the pieces connected, he moved a screws into place with screwdriver at the ready, and secured them all before adding the custom case he had ordered from a machine shop in Manehattan. His last step was to slide a gently glowing gem into the lower socket, each pointed end securely contacting the leads before he closed the compartment.

With a hoof, he applied pressure to a switch on the back and the newly crafted drill whirred into life. Smiling, his cerulean eyes glinting with satisfaction, he carefully set it down and let out a long, satisfied sigh. He tied on a little tag sporting the words ‘From: Sparkhorn.’

Now to just enjoy the quiet moment that follows a job well…

“Hey Sparky, how’s it goin’?!”

The unicorn let slip a cry of surprise completely appropriate for a stallion his age, horn crackling to life with mage lightning, and whirled to face his aural assailant. In the strobing light from his horn, a pegasus, crimson coat turned purple in the light, smiled from ear to ear, emerald eyes glimmering with mischief.

‘Sparky’ set his face to scowl immediately, steadied his magic, and missed striking the stallion with a weak jolt of static as he weaved past a bench and through the door to the storefront. He trotted irritably out after the pegasus prankster, squinting slightly as his eyes readjusted to the late morning sunlight streaming through the storefront windows. He brushed some of the dust from his workshop out of his cobalt mane and off of his winter grey coat.

“Skyrocket, how many times have I told you not to do that while I’m working! That tool is for dad’s birthday,” he snapped, directing his glare at the pegasus. The pegasus responded by simply blowing a few strands of his silver-streaked white mane out of his eyes.

“Relax! I waited until you put it down and did your ‘I’m finally done and happy with it’ sigh,” he wiggled his eyebrows in emphasis, the mirth in his eyes undimmed. The unicorn sagged a bit, rolled his eyes, and sighed once more, now in defeat.

“So, we still on for lunch?” Skyrocket asked, looking at some of the wares on the display racks in the storefront. Sockets of all different shapes and sizes, much like the one for the drill, sat next to tools and appliances which sported more of the fixtures. In the counter sat gems of an astounding variety of colors, each one labeled with a price in bits. He admired a particularly shiny ruby as Sparkhorn levitated his saddle bags from behind the counter and across his back.

“Can’t practice on an empty stomach, now can we?” Sparkhorn returned with a knowing smile. He presented a hoof to his friend, and Skyrocket completed the hoofbump as they turned to head outside. “You have it all set up for us?” As they got to the door, Sparkhorn flipped the ‘Open’ sign to ‘Closed,’ then followed Skyrocket out and locked up the store, tucking his keys away in his bags.

Skyrocket stretched his wings, but remained on the ground, enjoying the slow trot with his friend. It was an ideal day to be out and about in Edgewood. Making their way from town center, lined with stores, restaurants, and offices, they reached the fields. Wheat, barley, and oats grew in swaying amber waves over the rolling hills of the countryside, stopping well short of the Forest of Leota. Nearly every home out in the farmlands had a few apple trees, and every now and then a farmer would give a tree a light buck and enjoy a juicy afternoon snack. Many waved at the pair, and both would smile and return the neighborly gesture. Neither said much, enjoying the comfortable silence of a walk with a lifelong friend.

Shortly after they had passed the furthest field and were closing on the forest, they arrived at a gently flowing creek. A single, wizened willow tree leaned sagely over the river, and under the shade was a comfortable patch of mossy ground right next to the water. Leaning against the trunk was a picnic basket, just as Skyrocket had left it when he went to get Sparkhorn.

“I hope you’re as hungry as I am, because I packed it to last the afternoon,” Skyrocket said, glancing up to the sky and noting it was a bit past noon. “Plenty of fuel for training!”

Sparkhorn grinned before reaching out to the picnic basket with his magic. He gave a low whistle.

“Boy, you aren’t kidding! This is perfect, Sky.” The pegasus gave a theatrical bow, and Sparkhorn responded with a smirk and a weak punch against his friend’s shoulder. The pegasus responded with a quirked eyebrow and unfolded his wings. He assumed a more ready stance.

“What, you want to start now and eat later?” The pegasus flexed his wings and snorted. “I’m game for that if you are.”

“Whoah, down buddy. Lunch first, sparring next,” he replied amicably. The pegasus nodded and the two plopped down next to the basket, the unicorn setting his bags down against the tree. Sparkhorn levitated a lettuce and tomato sandwich out to his waiting mouth, while Skyrocket cracked open a sarsaparilla soda bottle with his wing. Sparkhorn magicked another sandwich over to his friend, who planted the open soda in front of the unicorn and cracked open another.

The first few minutes were quiet, only the gentle breeze rustling the leaves of the willow and the gurgling of the creek to be heard. Once the first sandwiches were hungrily devoured, conversation could begin.

“So what are we gonna practice today? We did hoof-to-hoof the last couple of days, so I think we’ve got that down pretty well.” The pegasus took another bite from his second sandwich, swallowed, then continued, saying, “I know you were all excited about some new technique or something.” The unicorn’s earns perked up at that, and he finished the last of his soda before replying.

“Okay, so you know how I’m all good with electricity, right?” The pegasus nodded. “Well, I only figured that out during a thunderstorm when I discovered my talent,” he said, gesturing towards his backside. An azure gem crossed by a brilliant yellow lightning bolt adorned his toned flanks. “I’m quite happy with how I can charge up gems, and it’s quite useful to be able to work on tools and machines and all, but if we want to prove ourselves we’re going to need an edge.”

“What kind of edge?” Skyrocket asked, his curiosity piqued.

“Well, here’s what I need you to do…”

“This is going to be so cool!” Skyrocket exclaimed, hovering above an ominously dark cloud he had ‘acquired.’

“Well, if it goes according to plan, yes,” Sparkhorn began, “but if you hit the cloud just a little bit off or I can’t channel my magic properly this could get pretty messy…”

“You’ve been practicing with your lightning bolts the whole time I was gone right?” Sparkhorn nodded, glancing at the scorched rocks nearby. He had been firing off basic lightning spells for the better part of an half hour waiting for Skyrocket to return with a storm cloud. “Then you’ll do fine! I’ve got faith in you, bro.”

Sparkhorn simply shook his head slowly before moving under the cloud. He took up a stable stance and began channeling his magic. Skyrocket hovered next to the storm cloud, his feathers tingling as he felt the local static levels build up. The unicorn’s horn fizzed, spat, then crackled with the buildup of energy, electricity coursing from base to tip. The unicorn spoke, his voice strained from effort.

“Ready when… you are… Sky,” he gritted out, locking eyes with his friend and giving a nod. Skyrocket’s face remained stoic as he returned the nod. He turned and took his most precise aim at the exact point on the cloud he needed to strike. It was a small cloud, not even worth a shower in its own right, but that didn’t make what they were doing much safer. He reared back and let loose a precise buck.

“Now!” the pegasus shouted, barely getting the word out before the cloud gave an almighty crack and a bolt of lightning leapt towards the nearest conductor.

Namely, an electrically charged unicorn horn.

Sparkhorn jerked as the bolt connected, his nerves on fire and his legs nearly buckling. His muscles burned and he felt an excruciating headache building, but he focused all his willpower on fusing the cloud’s bolt with his magic. The pool of energy began to grow out of control. Realizing what would happen if he let it build any further, he channeled it all away, whipping his head and discharging it all at an available target. With a pained cry a mighty azure bolt of lightning let fly, the backwash knocking down its caster.

Sparkhorn tried to look up at the sky, but darkness was constricting his vision as he grasped consciousness with what was left of his abused willpower. Skyrocket landed right next to him, carefully helping him up and looking him over. Sparkhorn felt his vision going back to normal, but his muscles were sore and his ears rang slightly.

“You don’t look so good, bro,” he said. “You feel ok? How many feathers am I holding up?”

Sparkhorn responded with a scowl and sarcasm, with a foul remark about where he could shove those feathers.

“Yeah, you’re fine,” Skyrocket replied with a grin, then gestured to the creek. “You should probably get a drink though. And maybe a look at yourself.”

Sparkhorn walked gingerly over to the creek, the ache persisting, and looked down at the water before going for a drink. The end of his horn was blackened, and his mane and tail were singed and faintly smoking, both on end and frizzy from latent static. He dragged a hoof down his face as he took in his new state.

“I’m going to need a serious bath before I go home or dad is going to kill me. You know, if I don’t,” he muttered to himself. He levitated his bags over, pulling out a towel. He turned back towards his friend when the pegasus let out a frustrated groan.

Where their picnic basket had been was now a slightly smoking crater and burning bits of straw.

The walk back was uneventful, the sun beginning its descent towards the horizon. They once again passed the fields, seemingly ablaze in the late rays of the sun. Both admired the familiar view, another beautiful evening away from the bustle of Manehattan or Canterlot. Neither had really experienced much beyond the quiet farming town, but they had heard enough. Skyrocket’s family had moved from Cloudsdale when he was still a colt, and Sparkhorn only knew stories of faraway cities, as his parents had moved out to the idyllic community when he was conceived. Sparkhorn frowned at the thought and the less than pleasant memories it evoked, gently shaking his head to clear his mind.

Back in town proper, they went their separate ways. Skyrocket initiated a hoofbump to end the day, and took off after Sparkhorn finished it. His cloud home was on the other side of town center, and knowing his parents, he’d have the house to himself. He’d probably stay up all night reading his favorite action comics. Again.

Sparkhorn, however, levitated out his keys and unlocked the door to a single story town house. He stepped into the foyer, which was essentially just a tiled portion of the living room. A charcoal-coated unicorn stallion sitting in an armchair looked up from his paper. His pale grey eyes did a once over of Sparkhorn before he ran a hoof through his matching cobalt mane.

“Son, please tell me you didn’t do something foolish again today.”

“Love you too, dad, great to be home,” he replied sarcastically, dropping his bags by the door next to a workman’s set with the name ‘Drill Bit’ stitched on.

“Look, Sparks, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you, but I don’t want you getting hurt and why is you mane singed?!” Sparkhorn winced, looking a bit apologetic.

“I can explain…”

Drill Bit facehoofed.

“I’ve heard that before. What did you go and do now, stand under a cloud and try to… oh sweet sisters you did,” he finished, letting his jaw drop.

“I’m sorry dad…I just…” Drill Bit stood up and made to move towards his son.

“Just what, want to end yourself sooner?” he began, sounding fearful. “I miss your mother too, but if you keeping putting yourself in danger…” The emotional stomp of a hoof cut him off.

“I’m doing it all so it doesn’t have to happen to anypony ever again!”

The room went completely silent. Drill Bit was frozen in place, jaw set.

“You’re still trying to join those wardens aren’t you?” He closed the gap to his son, reaching out with a hoof. “I know you want to do good, but you’re fantastic in your shop! You create what nopony else in town can, and you can only do that if you’re in good health to do it…”

Sparkhorn sagged.

“I know you don’t understand dad, but this is something I have to do.” He turned and started towards his room before pausing. “I love you dad. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Drill Bit stood there for some time before making his own way to bed.

Sparkhorn sat on his haunches, his father hugging him from behind. He looked at the slight, graceful body lying cold and still before him on the bed. He reached out his hoof, a colt’s hoof, to touch her. Before he could the world spun and he bolted upright, only to stumble through inky darkness. Trees, there were some kind of gangly trees, like ones he imagined would be in the depths of the woods where nopony should go. His pulse was alive as he heard a hissing.

He turned, and a horror presented itself. His mind could not process what he was seeing, all gangly limbs and buzzing wings. Hissing and fangs, hostile eyes, glossy with hunger. A buzzing and wicked laugh. Tears flowed freely from his eyes. He could not remember when he started to cry. He began to shout, fear pushing him to scream his terror as he tried to run, but there was nowhere, he could not feel himself move, and the horror crept in, the horrors crept in, he was going to be devoured, the depths were going to consume him… he was… he was….

He was looking upon a dark form, unlike the others. The night mare in his nightmare. She was here again. Her eyes glowed white as she towered over him. Her muzzle opened to speak, and just as he heard the first hints of sound his mind jolted…

And he awoke.

The badlands are a place of broken ground, jagged peaks, and the closest thing to desolation as can be found in Equestria. Out in these unappealing lands, events have begun taking shape and plans are being put into motion.
Dark and musty does not frequently describe the peak of a tower, but the air churned by two pairs of glossy, buzzing wings had a distinctly clammy quality. Dark iron torches lit the room with a subdued burn. Beyond the arcing, peaking windows that encircled the room, dark clouds hung persistently over the badlands. On a marble table, jagged in aspect, a velvet cushion sat an ivory stand of three legs, barbs curving upwards to restrain a faintly emerald crystal orb the size of a drone's head. Changelings, taller than the drones that composed the vast majority of their gangly race, rose from the spiral stairs bordering the room and flew to opposite sides of the orb. As the two settled in, one lazing on a large, billowing winedark pillow and the other leaning against the table, the sitting one spoke in a buzzing voice.

"The queen should be executing her plan soon. Are all of our assets in place, dear sister?" A pair of beryl eyes fluttered demurely. A set of aquamarine eyes rolled in response. The next voice was more melodious, a hum in place of the buzz.

"But of course. This fool plan of hers is bound to backfire, so I've ensured our house has agents in place for our own agenda."
The orb on the table swirled, images of wheat fields, farm houses, and rolling hills bordered by woods flickered, only just perceptible. Vague impressions of armored equines flashed over its surface before quickly fading.

"Whether she succeeds or not, we'll have removed one thorn from our side," she mused, slowly walking around the table to stand over her sister. Both turned to look out over the changeling domain. The broken ground of the badlands was dotted with massive tents of tattered tarpaulin, and before each stood scores of changelings. Armored warrior caste moved amongst the drones, accosting any that did not meet the standard their queen had put forth. After all, invasions did not win themselves.

Author's Note

After a bit of waiting for a friend of mine to look it over for me, I'm happy to finally post up the first chapter as it's meant to be! I've been wanting to get these characters out there, and I have a ton of adventure in store for them. The season 4 finale even gave me new ideas past what I already had, which lead up well past season 3. Chapter 2 should be up in a week or two depending on how available my editor is to look over it once I get it together. I'll do my best to read and reply to any comments!

Chapter Two

Bedsheets, twisted into an unkempt mess, shifted as the buzzing of an alarm clock woke the individual wrapped within. A crimson foreleg shot out and prodded around the night stand in a vain quest for the snooze button. A frustrated huff preceded the untangling of sheets and the emergence of one very drowsy Skyrocket. He promptly gave the alarm a solid thwack, silencing the clock.

He flopped out of bed, neglecting the sheets and proceeded immediately to the bathroom just down the hall. The airy cloud flooring made no noise, but the sound of running water replaced the silence as he stepped into the shower. After drying off he took wing and enjoyed a lazy glide downstairs and into the kitchen. He pulled out a bottle of milk from the refrigerator, a bowl from the cabinet, and his favorite oat cereal from the pantry, filled the bowl, and wolfed down his breakfast in silence. He finished and looked around the kitchen.

On the fridge, a picture of his family was held up at a skewed angle by magnets. His mother had him in a hug while his father tousled his mane. He stared at it for a couple of minutes, his expression blank, before he rinsed off his empty bowl and set it to dry. He trotted to the door and made his way outside.

For the first time today, he smiled. He always loved the view from his porch. He could see all of the fields from this angle, and the forest stretched out for miles, the peaks of the Appaloosan Mountains just visible above the treeline. Not taking his eyes from the view, he proceeded to step off his porch into freefall.

He flipped lazily over so he faced the sky above. As he fell, his wings twitched, and he resisted the urge to scratch the itch that had begun at the base of his primaries. His smile turned from calm and free to eager and adventurous in a flash, and he immediately rolled over and snapped his wings open, taking in the morning sky.

Just as he expected, he spotted stormclouds heading in from the direction of the badlands. Weather out there was not maintained by pegasi, so free roaming weather had a tendency to roll in from that direction.

One thing he had learned when he was just a colt was that he could always tell when natural weather was about. He just… felt it. It was an itch at the base of the wing, or a tingling of his feathers, or sometimes his ear would start twitching every few minutes. It had taken years, but eventually he began to distinguish weather patterns based on the tick he got. Nopony in town questioned him anymore when he claimed, “Storm’s comin’; I can feel it in my feathers!”

He banked towards the low, rumbling clouds. They had settled over Gemstone Gorge, which was only frequented by Sparkhorn. Where else would he get the gems for his magic and crafting? The harvest season was about to start and any rain now would bog down the fields and make collecting the crops much more tedious, so he had been tasked with keeping the skies clear. The gorge would be a great place to channel the runoff, and it might turn up some more gems for Sparky. Win-win in his book.

He accelerated towards the nearest cloud, face splitting in an idiot grin as he delivered a literally flying kick to the first small thunderhead, breaking it apart and enjoying a second morning shower. He took aim at another, smaller cloud and bucked it just so, which sent it spinning into its neighbor, bursting both and drizzling water over the gorge below. He continued his antics, toying around with various maneuvers and tricks he had invented to make the work more entertaining, and before long, a single, rumbling cloud remained.

He hovered next to it, rubbing his chin with one hoof as he thought of a better plan than breaking it here. He flew around and proceeded to push. After about twenty minutes of moving the cloud, it was tucked behind his home in the “yard” where he kept clouds for emergencies or special occasions.

Sparky would just love this one.

Skyrocket had sprawled himself on the couch inside as soon as he finished his work for the day, happy it was done before noon. On the living room table was a tray of carrot and celery sticks, one of his favorite snacks. He was contentedly munching on some celery, sticking out like a cigar with leaves for smoke, and reading the latest Power Ponies comic, when the door opened and two pegasi flew in with large satchels, a mare and a stallion.

Skyrocket turned and his face lit up as he lept from the couch, snack and comic forgotten, to barrel into both and pull them into a hug. Both registered a brief moment of shock before giving each other knowing looks and smiles.

“Glad to see you too, bud,” the stallion said as he tousled his son’s mane.

“Welcome back from your run! Did you get anything cool?” Skyrocket eagerly asked.

“I did get this for you…” the mare dug through the satchel and pulled out a tube, which she handed to Skyrocket. “Picked it up while we were in Canterlot.”

Skyrocket’s eyes widened.

“You went all the way to Canterlot this time?” he questioned as he opened the tube and pulled out the contents. His voice rose several decibels as he asked his next question. “And you got me a Wonderbolts poster?!” Not just a Wonderbolts poster, there was a signature in the bottom right. Fleetfoot.

The stallion frowned.

“Trade Winds, you’re going to spoil the boy. That can not have been cheap…”

Trade Winds rolled her eyes.

“Jet Stream, you hardly see Skyrocket, so we should at least make sure when we do get to spend time with him he’s happy!” She turned up her nose indignantly, peeking at him out of the corner of her eye. Wait for it… Jet Stream let out a long sigh, then smiled at her knowingly. Works every time!

“So what are you up to today, bud?” Jet Stream asked as he walked with his family over to the couch. They all sat down, Skyrocket wedged in the middle. He was almost a grown stallion, but he could never get enough time with his parents. They loved him so much, but were gone so often…

“Well, harvest is coming up, and my wings itched something fierce at the base,” he explained as he gestured to his wings, “so I knew there had to be some thunderheads rolling in. Nothing too major if you break them up.” Jet Stream wrapped a foreleg around his song and gave him an encouraging shake.

“That’s my boy! No weatherpony around like my Skyrocket,” Skyrocket beamed at the praise while his father continued, “and a good housekeeper. The living room is looking great. But I’m guessing I don’t want to take a look at your room, eh?” This received a sheepish chuckle and nod.

“It’s okay, honey,” Trade Winds giggled. “Your room, your rules, since you run the house.”

Skyrocket straightened up as he remember something. He had wanted to ask his parents as soon as they got home.

“Hey, how long are you guys staying? The harvest festival is tonight and Sparky and I have this awesome display we’re getting ready and…” his voice trailed off as he watched the smiles fade from his parents faces. “You have another run to do, don’t you?”

Both parents frowned. They had been tasked with more and more routes to deliver mail and ship packages, since they were the only pegasi family in town. Being a farming community, the majority of the population was earth ponies. Sparkhorn’s family was one of only two unicorn families. No trains crossed the Appaloosans to Edgewood, so mail had to be delivered by air.

Trade Winds gave her son a soft hug and stroked his mane. He returned the hug briefly before pulling away and getting up from the couch. His parents shot each other looks of concern.

“Thanks for stopping by, and I love the poster mom!” he said as sincerely as he could. It was hard to keep up the smile, and it was not his usual beaming grin, but it was genuine. “Stay safe. I’m going to go meet up with Sparky so we can get things ready for tonight. Maybe somepony will take some pictures of the display so I can show you guys…”

His head drooped a bit. Jet Stream got up and placed a reassuring hoof on Skyrocket’s shoulder. Trade Winds stood up as well.

“As soon as we free up, we’ll use the all the bits we’ve been saving up and go on a proper vacation, an adventure, just like you’ve always wanted.” He smiled warmly, trying to cheer his son back up.

Skyrocket managed another smile and pulled them into one more hug. He broke it and made his way to the door, turning around as he opened it.

“Stay safe, guys. Love ya.”

“We love you too, son.”

The sky was just as clear and vibrantly blue as it was after he had cleared those clouds this morning, the sun at its peak and bathing the land in warming light. The fields shone a brilliant gold and the grassy hills beyond the farms were a green almost as vivid as his emerald eyes. But it all seemed just a bit dimmer to him right this moment.

He flew aimlessly for a while before turning to head to the willow by the creek. He was still flying his with the sun at his back when he spotted the fittingly electric blue mane of his best friend within the canopy of the tree. He was sitting on one of the branches that extended over the creek.

And next to him he spotted a patch of burgundy and amber.

His previous mood forgotten, his lips curled into one of his signature mischievous grins. He carefully controlled his descent, keeping his wing beats as quiet as he possibly could. Now just a dozen feet above the tree, the gurgling of the creek drowned out the sound of flapping feathers but not their voices.

“...getting really good at this Summer. I could never write something this clever and meaningful,” Sparkhorn finished, holding a sheet of paper in his magic. His companion giggled softly. It was Summer Sonnet. Skyrocket swore he could hear her amber cheeks blush to match her mane.

“Thanks… it took me a while to finish it, but I found some really good motivation,” she said softly. She was not a terribly shy girl, but she was quite soft spoken, and had a hard time sharing her feelings. Sparkhorn seemed as clueless about the earth pony as always.

“It’s certainly romantic, and in a much more meaningful way than…” he switched to a fake haughty accent, “roses are red, blah blah,” he finished with a chuckle. “What was your inspiration?” She began shifting nervously, trying to find an answer that would not give her away just yet.

“Well… I just know someone very special who always knows how to make me smile.” Sparkhorn quirked an eyebrow, and she giggled at the familiar sight. “And laugh.”

Sparkhorn smiled warmly and responded, “Well, he is sure one lucky stallion then. I’m almost jealous.”

Skyrocket facehoofed hard enough that it made an audible smack.

Two pairs of eyes shot upwards and he realized the jig was up. Whoops! Plan B!

“Sparky and Summer…”

“Sky, what are you…?”

“Sittin’ in a tree…” Sparkhorn’s eyes widened a bit and he glanced at Summer, who was blushing furiously, eyes glued to the creek below.

“Don’t even think about it, featherbrain.” Magic hummed.

“K-I-S…” ZAP. “Yeow! Alright, alright! Yeesh.” Summer giggled, the blush beginning to recede. It disappeared completely as a crimson blur took the unicorn next to her right off the branch and barreled into the creek with a loud splash. She blinked a couple of times as the tussle began before rolling her eyes, planting her head in her hooves, and watching with a knowing smile.

“Why you dirty…” Zap, zap. “Hold still!”

Skyrocket, ever the mature stallion, stuck his tongue out and bucked into the creek, splashing water all over the unicorn. Sparkhorn yelped as he felt the residual energy in his horn channel through the water and give him a shock. He crouched down before leaping at his friend.

Skyrocket was too preoccupied with pulling his hooves from the muck of the creek to dodge the tackle. They went tumbling through the water, trading dominant positions repeatedly before clashing skulls with a resounding clonk.

Both sat on their haunches in the water, panting, as they got their dazed senses under control. Each stared the other down for a few seconds before they burst out laughing. They looked towards the bank under the tree to see Summer Sonnet sitting with a hoof on her hip, patiently waiting for the boys to finish.

They made their way out of the water, and Skyrocket shook himself off, Summer Sonnet laughing at Sparkhorn’s cry of protest.

“Did you boys have fun?” She covered her mouth with a hoof as she giggled some more. Both responded at the same time.

“Always!” They gave each other a look before chuckling. Skyrocket motioned for Sparkhorn to continue while he moved over to the willow and sat against the trunk.

“Thanks for hanging out with me this morning and reading over my poetry,” she told Sparkhorn. “Are you going to the harvest festival?” His response was a slightly cocky grin.

“Not to start, no.” She deflated a little. “But I’ll be good to go once I get our little show set up.” She smiled up at him.

“I’ll save you a seat on my picnic blanket then.” She positively beamed as she turned back towards town and began cantering away. “See you then!” she called as she waved to him.

He waved back until the fields obscured eye contact. He jumped a little when Skyrcoket leaned in conspiratorially. He did not hear the pegasus get up and move to him.

“She liiiikes you.”

“What? What are you talking about?” Sparkhorn asked, genuinely confused. The response was another facehoof.

“So you’re telling me you can see when mares hit on your dad, or when my parents are in the mood when even I can’t, but you can’t tell when someone likes you?”

Sparkhorn looked at him quizzically as he responded, “Well of course she likes me. Friends are supposed to like each other, right?” This received an aggravated huff in response.

“She likes spending time with you, right?”

“Of course, and I like spending time with…”

“And she shares her poetry, which is super important to her, with you before anypony else, right?”

“Well yeah, but that’s what happens when I’m a trusted confidant, and…”

“And she said she wrote that one for someone special, shared it with just you, and was fidgeting and blushing the whole time.”

Sparkhorn opened his muzzle to retort but it died in his throat. His jaw went slack and his eyes lost focus. Skyrocket grinned smugly as he watched the gears turn in his friend’s head. For a brilliant young stallion, capable of crafting wonderful magical tools and the electrical gems to power them, he could be pretty slow. He could read other ponies’ intentions quite well, except when it came to himself. That’s what Skyrocket was for.

“Mull that bit over while we get to work. You get the launchers in place this morning?” he asked. Sparkhorn shut his muzzle and nodded mutely. He had moved them there first thing this morning, before he met with Summer. “Awesome. I’ll grab the rest of the gear and meet you there. This is gonna be so cool!”

That afternoon the village saw very little of the pair of young stallions. When they were seen, they moved crates with the labels covered over and unnervingly wide smiles on their faces. Anyone paying much attention would determine that they were heading out over one of the hills on the edge of town, one with a sheer side facing outwards. What they could not know was that the launchers mentioned at the creek were set up at the base of said sheer hill.

After a few hours of work, the sun was hovering not far from the western horizon. Both checked and double checked their work before Sparkhorn bid Skyrocket farewell and headed home for a brief shower before making his way to meet with Summer Sonnet. He rinsed off and loaded his saddlebags with the potato salad he had prepared to share at the festival.

The last rays of the sun were visible as he trotted to town center and made his way to the small park the town used for public events. Music was playing and ponies were dancing, songs ranging from country to old rock and roll. He couldn’t resist a bit of hip-swaying to a guitar solo, and he walked with eyes closed for a bit as he wandered over to where he assumed Summer would have set up.

His assumption was validated when he heard a familiar giggle. He opened his eyes and stopped his little dance-walk as he saw her looking up at him from her picnic blanket. He blushed and chuckled a bit in embarrassment.

“Brought potato salad… eh heh heh…” he sank to the blanket next to her, rubbing a hoof down his face as he levitated out the food.

“I didn’t know you could dance,” she quipped. He snorted and shurgged.

“I hardly call that dancing,” he said as he lit his magic to test his reach. He could still just reach the trigger, and he smiled at his assessment. “And don’t ask if I can sing. I save that for the shower.”

This time her laugh was cut short with a snort, and she blushed heavily as Sparkhorn raised his eyebrow and smirked at her.

“Well that was cute…” he teased.

“Oh shush, you.” She brushed stray bits of her mane from her face. He thought back to what Skyrocket had brought up by the creek.

Their moment was interrupted as the music quieted and a voice cut in.

“Fillies and gentlecolts, welcome again to the annual harvest festival! I hope you’ve enjoyed your evening so far, but it’s about darn time we got us a proper show. Our local pyros have gotten together and prepared the newest and most breathtaking display yet for us, so give it up for Sparkhorn ‘n’ Skyrocket, the crazy stallions!”

Townsfolk whooped and applauded, and Sparkhorn waved an acknowledgement. The absence of Skyrocket only meant one thing to the townsfolk.

One buckin’ crazy stunt.

Everypony got comfortable as Sparkhorn stood and reach out with his magic. He felt his connection with the electric igniter solidify in his mind, and while one part of his will held that connection, another focused on charging a spell bolt. His horn fizzled, then jolted as a ball of static jumped from his horn and leapt to the sky, ascending a hundred feet before bursting with an actinic pop.

Skyrocket was standing eagerly atop the hill when he saw the discharge above town. He grinned from ear to ear and crouched into a ready stance, sliding a set of reactive goggles over his eyes.

There’s the signal. Three… Two… One…

Behind him, tubes spat out conical rounds that arced up to the sky above the town.

Show time.

Skyrocket was a split second behind.

He could see them accelerating ahead of him, and he raced to keep up. Too far, and it would not have the right effect. Too close, and he would be one crispy critter. So he chased them, letting them get their distance.

And then the fireworks went off.

He saw the flash before he felt the shockwave, the ear plugs he had inserted before leaving the hill saving his eardrums from bursting. His goggles immediately tinted to their maximum, preventing him from being blinded. His outstretched hooves broke the shockwave around him, allowing him to punch through the pressure wave.

So when he angled his wings and rolled through the embers, he left his own cone of turbulence behind him. white sparks faded to brilliant viridian and cerulean as they danced and corkscrewed into dazzling patterns, the gusts of his passing changing a static light show into a kaleidoscope of dazzling colors. Fireworks burst in his path, and he looped, barreled, and braked, demonstrating acrobatic skill that painted the sky in flashes of chemical crimson and gold, violet and amber.

He could not hear the cheers from below, or see the awed expressions on the faces of the townsfolk, but he could have cared less. He felt the shockwaves buffet him and saw the myriad colors trailing from his wings. He felt alive, and during one of the lulls in the show he took that precious moment to spot his best friend in the crowd.

Sparkhorn was wearing a matching idiot grin as their annual stunt went off without a hitch, the new maneuvers Skyrocket had invented and the experimental chemical blends working in harmony to create art painted on the canvas of an early night sky.

Now for the finale. Skyrocket was at the highest point of the show, and he watched the last volley arc below him, synched to form a descending, vertical columns of airbursts. Without hesitation, Skyrocket dived.

He barreled through explosion after explosion, rolling and weaving to make the most dramatic impact he could on the fireworks. The last was special though. A risky mix they had tested a dozen times to ensure it was perfect.

As the last rocket exploded, the flares lingered, and they clung to his wings as he flew through. He held his wings stiff and angled them to arrest his descent, approaching the ground at a dangerous speed. At the last moment, he snapped his wings up and flapped down hard, radiating a halo of iridescence above the park as he crunched to the dirt. His feathers were singed, his coat covered with bits of ash, and a few strands of his mane were burning, but his wide eyed, cocky grin eloquently displayed the number of bucks he gave.

He was glad he was wearing ear plugs when the crowd cheered this time.

The moon had risen well into the sky, and the festivities were beginning to wrap up. Skyrocket had joined Sparkhorn and Summer, giving his best friend a conspiratorial wink. Sparkhorn had simply rolled his eyes before they shared a hoofbump and included him in their conversation. As ponies packed up their belongings and began going their separate ways, the last days of the harvest ahead, the three enjoyed the final moments of the cool night.

Before they got to their good-byes, however, Drill Bit had made his way over to them, still wearing his work bags. The unicorn never seemed to go anywhere without them.

“Hey boys, hello there Miss Sonnet, you all about done for the night?” He was greeted with nods. “Well,” he began, reaching into his bags and pulling out an envelope in his teeth before letting it float in his magic, “I picked up a letter addressed to “Drill Bit & Family” today, so I figured I’d wait to open it until I had my family here. He received enthusiastic nods.

“I guess that’s my cue to head home. I'll see you later Spark!” she leaned towards him and hesitated for a moment before planting a brief kiss on his cheek. She immediately turned and cantered away. He sat there for several seconds, letting it register, before a lopsided smile plastered his face and he rubbed his cheek where her lips had been. Skyrocket just rolled his eyes and smirked as he spread his wings.

“I’ll catch you later Sparky, Mr. Bit,” he said. Before he could lift off however, a steely hoof stopped him.

“Whoah there, Sky, you’re fine right here.” Drill Bit smiled warmly. “You’ve been a part of this family since you bumped into Sparks when you moved here.” Drill Bit reflected on Skyrocket’s parents. They were amazing ponies, but so often away. Skyrocket was the closest thing Sparkhorn had to a brother, so he felt obligated to watch over the crimson pegasus. He was family, blood or not.

“Oh, well, alrighty then.” He planted his flanks on the ground. Sparkhorn gave him a friendly jab on the shoulder.

“Now before I begin, I’m going to ask you very carefully. You followed absolutely all the safety checks I gave you two before pulling off that stunt of yours, correct?” He received two irritated nods. He nodded back in satisfaction. It had taken them weeks to convince him to let them try something so crazy, again, but having seen them do it time and again and perform it safely had left him somewhat soft to the maneuver. It did not hurt that it was absolutely gorgeous to look upon. It filled him with pride to see what his two charges could do, risky or not.

The sound of crinkling paper accompanied the opening of the envelope. Drill Bit concentrated and he managed to pull the letter out in his magic. Magic had never been his strong suit. His father had always taught him to rely on the strength and skill of his hooves. Darn earth pony.

The two younger stallions watched his expression go from curious, to confused, to apprehensive as he read out loud to them:

To my dear brother in law,

Times are troubled. It saddens me to think that my sister would leave you to take care of a foal on your own, working stallion that you are. And here I am with a request for you. Canterlot has seen a recent increase in guard readiness. I hear the captain himself is preparing defenses. Word is, a threat has been made against the capital. As such, I feel it best to send my daughter, Gossamer Dawn, to family far away from the city. I hate to burden you with another charge, but she is a well behaved young mare and will certainly do her best to assist you wherever able. Please take care of her.

-Gleaming Winter

Author's Note

Finally got the second chapter done! Things are never dull with these two around. But what does the future hold with such an unexpected newcomer?

It was a bit of a challenge to write the fireworks scene. Capturing the right feel of flying through a pyrotechnics display took a bit of pondering and I don't know how many times I backspaced and rewrote a line! Many thanks again go to my editor for being so prompt and thorough. She spots every little detail I miss and it makes writing this story that much easier.

Chapter Three

The sun had barely peeked over the horizon when Gossamer awoke. The rattling of the covered wagon she rode in meant a less than peaceful awakening, but such was the price to pay for anypony traveling where railways did not go. Her supply of bits had been quite hefty, so the amount she had paid for a ride had been more than enough to encourage the merchants to provide her transport.

As she sat in the makeshift bed of bedroll and blankets she had prepared for herself, she again contemplated her journey and destination. Unease still ate away at the back of her mind, and the kindness of the caravan team left her mouth with a faintly bitter taste. She knew the reason she had been sent here, and wondered if it was truly necessary.

She was broken out of her reverie, however, when the call filtered back through the caravan that Edgewood was finally in sight. She moved carefully to the front of the wagon, mindful of the cargo she shared the space with, and peeked out and got her first glimpse of the rolling fields and town proper.

Farmers paused in their harvest work and waved amicably to the caravan. She forced a smile and waved back. Ponies always seemed so genuine, even with strangers.

She felt all the more uncertain because of it.

Sparkhorn slowly paced outside the trade hall, the largest, and possibly the tallest, structure in town. It was also one of the oldest, constructed painstakingly in log cabin style. It gave the structure a rustic, traditional feel that suited many of the intrepid ponies who conducted business within its spacious interior.

He stopped his pacing as a familiar blur of crimson materialized from the air into his best friend, who gave his wings a quick stretch before folding them closed. Skyrocket gave him a toothy grin and a hoofbump in greeting before they turned back to the main thoroughfare and spotted the approaching caravan.

“You excited to meet your cousin?” Skyrocket accompanied the question with a raised eyebrow. Sparkhorn merely shrugged.

“Hard to feel excited when I didn’t even know I had a cousin…” he mumbled back. “Dad seemed just as surprised as I was. We haven’t heard from my aunt in years, and suddenly she just sends a cousin we never knew existed our way.” He rubbed his chin with a hoof. “It’s more confusing than exciting.”

“Sparky, lighten up! I’m sure you two will hit it off just fine,” Skyrocket returned with his signature grin. Sparkhorn returned a smile of his own.

“Yeah, yeah. Ever the optimist…”

“I am the optimist!”

“Maybe I’ll just call you optimist prime.”

“You’re such a dork.”

“I am the dork.”

They both enjoyed a moment of shared laughter, the tension leaving Sparkhorn. They both finished as the caravan finally rolled in front of the hall. The earth ponies that had pulled the wagons unhitched themselves and stretched after a long and tedious haul before moving to see to their goods. A few other travelers disembarked, and the two stallions scanned the crowd for a familiar face. What they did not expect was for how familiar it turned out to be.

Gossamer looked around the town she now found herself in before searching for any of the faces she had been shown. It did not take long to spot to two stallions looking her way, and she locked eyes with each briefly as she moved to them.

‘Looking her way’ may have been a serious understatement, she realized. As she approached she felt their response to her presence, the feelings of each as varied as night and day.

Skyrocket felt his heart skip a beat and his mind blank as he looked over the young mare he had joined Sparkhorn to meet. A coat just the faintest shade paler than Sparky’s, with eyes of deep viridian and mane and tail of icy blue and green. Her horn was just as cleanly sharp as her cousin’s, and she had an almost coquettish beauty that was belied by her timid body language. He was not sure what he was feeling, but it was very new and totally exciting.

Sparkhorn however, was suffering from much more vivid recognition. His mind overlayed pictures of his mother when she was his age over this unknown mare and found too many similarities. It was like looking at his mother.

His mother.

Memories of fleeting happiness were immediately followed by ones he carefully locked away, ones he only ever contemplated in moments where he had complete control of his mental state. He was not prepared for them to well up so suddenly and aggressively. His breathing became quick, his pulse raced, and he felt twin pangs of sorrow and anger flash under the haze of confusion that consumed him. His eyes shrunk to pinpricks. He dug deep into his own reserves of will, the strong will that lent itself so wonderfully to his magic, and beat back the emotions. He called on all of the mental tools and exercises he had to overcome his past.

The ordeal lasted but a moment, but its impact left him feeling ill.

Gossamer nearly tripped as she caught the briefest glimmer of the emotional turmoil that had nearly consumed the unicorn before her. Sparkhorn, that was his name. Her appearance was too close to his mother’s. Guilt chipped away at her resolve, but she would carry on.

“Hi,” she greeted softly. “I’m Gossamer Dawn. Are you Sparkhorn?” Although he had very quickly recovered, there was still a glimmer of unease in his eyes as he replied.

“Ah... yep, that’s me! Welcome to Edgewood!” he replied with a smile. “This is my best bud Skyrocket!” Skyrocket had shaken himself from his daze and was doing his best to remain unflustered.

“Heya! You can just call me Sky. That’s what my friends do!” He extended a hoof and flashed his signature grin. She smiled warmly and complete the hoof bump.

“It’s nice to meet you. I hope I’m not interrupting your day too much…” she said, tracing a nervous pattern with her hoof. Skyrocket replied in a flash, preempting Sparkhorn.

“‘Course not! We’ll grab your stuff and help you get settled, right Sparky?” he inquired with a look to his friend. Sparkhorn nodded.

“We’ll take your bags to the guest room in my house, then we’ll show you around town.” Skyrocket smiled eagerly at that second part. “Does that sound good?”

She too smiled and nodded.

“Lead the way.”

The house was not far from the trade hall, and rightly so. Drill Bit regularly frequented it to purchase supplies and tools that were not available in Edgewood, and he regularly advertised his services and sold the carpentry and wood carving products he made between contracts. Most of the furniture in the house had been crafted by the owner, and it gave the interior of the residence a rustic, old-time charm.

Skyrocket waited in the living room while Sparkhorn showed Gossamer to the room she would be staying in and placed her bags where she wanted them. They returned, and Skyrocket finally noticed the unease that his friend was carefully concealing. He would have to ask about that later.

They gathered in the living room, and a thin veil of tension was present in the room. Skyrocket was more than willing to break it.

“So where do you want to head first? You saw the trade hall when you got here, but we could show you town hall, or the fields, or…” he trailed off as he noticed her looking at him with a slightly amused expression.

“I’ll probably be here awhile and I can go exploring later. I don’t want to impose or cut into your day.” Skryocket waved her concerns away.

“I already took care of my work this morning, so I can show you around! We’ll swing by Sparky’s shop last and bring him back with us for dinner!” He looked to his friend for agreement, and received a nod.

“That sounds like a plan. I’ll see if I can’t scrounge up something for you while I’m at it. I might have just the thing in my workshop!” He smiled, burying his anxiety to deal with later. He would have plenty of time to mull things over in the quiet of his workshop.

With that, Skyrocket took wing and pumped a hoof in the air, brushing the ceiling, before swooping the short distance down to grab Gossamer by the hoof and whisk her out the door. She managed to wave briefly to Sparkhorn before disappearing with the pegasus.

Sparkhorn sighed, retrieved his saddlebags, and headed out himself. A genuine smile finally found its way to his face as he thought about his lingering projects. He knew just what he’d work on to clear his head.

Gossamer was nearly overwhelmed by the eagerness that radiated from the pegasus guiding her around town. She was unused to receiving such positive attention so quickly, but that did not mean should could not adapt. It was just so uncommonly genuine. Most ponies took forever to properly warm up to, but this featherbrained flyer had found her interesting immediately. Maybe interesting was not quite the right word…

She was pulled from her thoughts as she was lead into the local ice cream & sweets shop and introduced to a triple layer apple fritter a la mode. It would have been overwhelmingly sweet if not for the contrasting flavor of cinnamon and the butter pecan ice cream generously piled on. She did her best to pay attention to everything her guide was telling her about the town and the exploits he had shared with Sparkhorn, if not to be polite than at least to be well informed.

It was when he mentioned their practicing and the upcoming warden trials that her focus truly manifested.

Sparkhorn once again found himself in the familiar dark of his workshop. On the bench in front of him was a rectangular box with square ends, a mechanical socket and armature extending from the midpoint of one side. The side panel was opened and a flap connected to a cone at one end was extended vertically and out of the way. Inside, a set of precision tools encased in his magic carefully calibrated the precise workings of the device. He glanced to a schematic scroll to the left of the machine, his hornwriting scrawled in the margins with dates indicating when notes were taken. Observations of performance and what adjustments likely needed to be made guided his work. The latest notes indicated that the twenty-third set of adjustments might just do the trick and allow him to consider the prototype ready.

After finishing adjustments, he closed the small hatch and moved the flap back to its stowed position before levitating the box over to one of his other workstations where a contraption that mirrored it in all aspects lay. He levitated them to his sides, the cone-tips facing forward. Then his magic reached out and grasped a harness derived from the ones the farmers used during the harvest. It essentially had two stable armatures that extended to the left and right of the user, and for the farmers it had large rings for holding bushels of produce. The one Sparkhorn had crafted had connectors designed to fit the sockets built into the boxy contraptions hovering at his side, and the armatures were articulated. He had also added a backpack compartment that would sit on his back between the boxes since he could not wear both the harness and his saddle bags.

After settling the harness on himself, he socketed the contraptions into place. With a bit of focus, he tested the modifications he had made that allowed him to manipulate the positioning of the armatures. The boxes extended out from him, rotated cone-side up, then back, before folding back to his sides. It took less and less focus to do that with twenty-three test runs behind him.
Lifting the completed harness off, he moved by the door to the storefront and summoned up a matching pair of gems, floating them into the workshop. Placing the harness aside for a moment, he focused on the crystals floating before him. A pair of emeralds, to be precise. Standing clear of the tables around the room, he charged up his magic and put his talent to use.

His horn crackled with pent up electrical energy before it arced and connected with the two emeralds. He ramped up the spell until the precious stones glowed with inner light, throttling back the flow of power until two gently shining emeralds floated lazily in his magical grip. Taking the charged power crystals over to the harness, he placed each gem at the back end of each box, a sharp clicking sounding as socket clamps secured them in place.

He let out a sigh of satisfaction as usual, and enjoyed the feeling of completion that always accompanied a finished project. Speaking of which, he thought as he turned back to his main workstation, I noticed she had a few useful grooming tools, but not one of these.

‘One of these’ manifested as various components around the workshop coalesced, in the span of half an hour, into a simple gem-powered hair dryer. He brought it out to the store front where he boxed it along with several low-end crystals. Using what remained of the gift wrap from the holiday season, he bundled it up and placed a note in flowing script quite simply stating “Welcome, Gossamer!” on it. He smiled as he tucked it away in his saddlebags behind the counter.

Next, he opened the mail sitting on a stool and read through several orders for some hardware and power crystals, humming to himself as he returned to his workshop and settled into his daily routine. Doing so allowed his mind to wander and he found himself reflecting on the gift he had just wrapped and the mare it was for. A slight frown found its way on his muzzle.

He felt like he should not have been surprised that she had looked so similar to his mother. After all, the blood relation was fairly close. But it was not that close. But none of that was what really bothered him.

No, what bothered him were the memories her appearance had evoked. He briefly flashed back to the nightmare he had awoken from nights prior. He was not looking forward to sleeping tonight, as he was fairly certain that it would make a swift and unsubtle return. He did not talk with anypony about the horrible dream. It was his burden to bear and he would not burden anypony, especially not his father, with it. He had opted to tell Skyrocket about it only once, and the pegasus had offered to lend an ear whenever it was needed, but not to pry unless he was concerned for Sparkhorn’s safety. Sky had always seemed to understand; a stallion was not weak when calling for aid, but there are also some battles he has to face himself.

Nopony could overcome his past for him.

For the first time in what felt like an age, he revisited the history he buried under the good times with Sky, Summer, his father, and neighbors. He could not stop his eyes from tearing up a bit as the image of his mother, frail and fading, lay upon his parents' bed years ago. Her eyes were shimmering slightly with unshed tears. Not of pain, but of the sadness knowing you are leaving loved ones behind. She had patted his hoof ever so gently with hers and told him she would miss them both dearly. She told him he would become a great stallion one day. So that had become his goal.

His sad state was quickly undercut by the swell of determination he had found the day after she had passed. He remembered the captain of the wardens, the town legend Flint N. Steel, coming to him to talk to him about it. He could still remember the advice he had been given in that rough voice.

“We can’t change the past, boy. We gave it our all, and we made the cretins pay. But don’t mourn her passing, she… she wouldn’t want us crying on her account.” He sniffed once before continuing. “She would want you to be proof of her life, to show that she gave something truly special to the world. I can see it in you too, Sparks. Use your talents and show them what an amazing pony she gave us.” He ruffled the teary-eyed colt’s mane.

He had never blamed the wardens for not getting to her in time. They only did their job to the best of their abilities, and had saved the others. They had dealt a stinging blow to the perpetrators. If anything, he admired them for their commitment to getting as many home safely as they could. No, he knew who he blamed.

The changelings.

He had been told stories as a child. How they could mimic anypony, and would twist the mind of the innocent to replace friends and family so they could feed on the love they provided, and once they were far enough under the creatures’ sway, they’d be taken.

They’d be nothing but cattle. Slaves to feed the hive.

It sickened him. But that was a small feeling. It made him sad to think how many had been taken, but that too was not the strongest thing he felt about them. No, he knew what he truly felt about them.

Hatred.

He buried it deep. He did not want to hate anypony, he honestly wished all the creatures of the world could get along. He knew hatred only led to pain, hurting oneself and those close. But neither could he deny the truth of his heart.

He hated the changelings. he hated how they subverted society and used other thinking, feeling beings as naught but a resource to expend. He hated how they abused the trust between friends and family, and they stole the most precious thing shared between ponies. Their love. But most importantly, he hated the creatures that had taken his mother from him.

And even his kind heart could not forgive that.

He sighed heavily, knowing where these dark thoughts would lead. He had explored those paths enough. Instead, he called upon that determination he had found that day.

He would be a warden, the best warden, and he would never let the creatures hurt anypony ever again.

Following that train of thought, he glanced back to his completed harness contraption. His orders for the day had been completed, so he placed them in their respective boxes for shipping and stored them behind the counter in the storefront before retrieving the harness and settling it on his back. He covered it with a sheet before making his way outside and heading towards the woods and his hidden proving grounds within.

It would not do for others to see his secret project before its debut.

Sparkhorn had only recently returned to his shop and stowed the harness after his first truly successful test when Skyrocket and Gossamer entered the store, the pegasus calling out for him. He promptly exited the workshop to greet them and a bemused smirk found its way onto his muzzle as he got a look at the pair.

Skyrocket was as energetic as ever, smiling broadly after an enjoyable day around town. Gossamer, however, was panting slightly and looked quite worn out from keeping up with the untiring flyer.

“Looks like you had a busy day, huh?” he greeted.

“You betcha! I showed her all the good spots around town. Oh! And she wants to watch us practice tomorrow,” he stated happily. Sparkhorn raised an eyebrow.

“Really now… I didn’t take you for the type to like anything rough,” he directed to Gossamer. She gave a little shrug.

“He told me all about the wardens and said you’d been practicing for the upcoming trials. It piqued my interest. And a lady should know how to defend herself,” she added curtly. Sparkhorn gave a brief chuckle.

“I guess that settles that,” he replied, then addressed both of them while retrieving his saddle bags. He discreetly slipped the gift for Gossamer into one pouch before saying, “It’s about time for dinner, so let’s get back home.” He received two eager nods for response.

The journey home was pleasant and uneventful. Entering into the foyer, Sparkhorn carefully set his bags down. As Gossamer and Skyrocket settled into the living room, Sparkhorn levitated out the gift and brought it with him over to Gossamer. Drill Bit entered from the kitchen as he presented the gift, a knowing smile gracing his tired features. His son had a knack for making gifts for newcomers to town.

“What’s this?” she asked, genuine surprise and confusion entering her voice. Skyrocket gave her a friendly jab, far softer than his usual, as he answered.

“A welcome present, duh! Sparky always makes something for the new pony, or ponies, in town.” This was met with a sheepish shrug from the named unicorn.

Gossamer was genuinely stunned. She had never received a gift just for the sake of it. She once more wrestled with her own feelings. She did not have to think long, fortunately, before Drill Bit interrupted her thoughts.

“I hope everypony’s hungry, I made a double batch of spinach lasagna!” This received a pair of cheers from the young stallions, which baffled the sole mare in the room. The reaction to her next question was one of utter disbelief.

“Uh, pardon me, but what is lasagna?”

Even the double batch could not survive the voracious appetite of the stallions sitting at the table, and after her first hesitant bite, Gossamer had surprised them with the gusto with which she consumed her portion. Portions, actually, would be more accurate. She accounted for nearly a third of the lasagna consumed that night, much to the amusement of her hosts.

“I had no idea that such simple dish could be so tasty. I am used to such different nourishment.” She recognized the strange phrasing and immediately correct herself, stating, “I mean, I ate quite differently in Canterlot.” She had been careful not to rush her addendum, and based on the satisfied expressions on the faces around her they were still too focused on their recently consumed meal to take much notice.

“I know right? Mr. Bit always makes the best! Should’a been a cook instead of a carpenter, I say!” Sparkhorn laughed while Drill Bit shook his head with a grin.

“While flattering, I find cooking much like construction. The right pieces put together the right way to construct wonderful flavor! And how many times do I have to tell you to drop the whole ‘Mr.’ business. You’re as much family here as Sparkhorn!” The other unicorn nodded in agreement. Gossamer hid the bit of surprise she felt at that comment. Skryocket just snorted and waved a hoof in the air.

“What do you want me to call you then, ‘dad’? That just seems kind of weird since my dad is still around. Occasionally…” Gossamer sensed the mood in the room take a dip before Drill Bit quickly interjected.

“Drill, Bit, anything you’d like, Sky. And your mom and dad should be home soon. Jet said they’re planning on taking off some days soon to spend time with you, and in the mean time…” he laughed, “you know what I’m saying.” Sky perked up a bit.

“I’m always welcome here, right?” The chuckling that followed was subdued, but genuine.

“Well, thanks for dinner mist…. er… Drill.” The older stallion smirked. Sky just rolled his eyes. “I think I’m going to head back home though. I should have gotten a new issue of Power Ponies today!” He stood and unfurled his wings as he headed towards the door. Sparkhorn moved to follow.

“Just don’t forget our plans for tomorrow.” Sparkhorn reminded as they stepped outside.

“Absolutely! Oh, and Gossamer said she wanted to tag along.” Sparkhorn blinked a couple of times as he processed that.

“Yeah, you mentioned that earlier,” he replied, scratching his chin with an idle hoof. “See you tomorrow, then.”

“You got it. Later, Sparky!” And with that, the pegasus took off. Sparkhorn turned and reentered the house. Gossamer was sitting on the couch in the living room with the present next to her while Drill Bit sat in his usual spot with the newspaper. He moved and sat next to Gossamer, gesturing at the unwrapped parcel.

“Oh, right, almost forgot.” She levitated the gift up in front of her, the aura of magic a deep emerald. The wrapping paper neatly disassembled from the gift as she neatly pulled it apart. He was surprised by how dextrous and precise her magic was. Must run in the family.

She pulled the box open and her perplexed expression indicated that she had no idea what she was looking at. He snickered a little as he flicked the activation switch. The sudden sound of the hair dryer made her jump, and she tossed it to the floor when a gust from its nozzle tousled her mane. Drill Bit joined in when Sparkhorn laughed at her flustered reaction.

“Do they not have hair dryers in Canterlot? Heh. Sorry if I surprised you,” he apologized as he retrieved it for her. She shook her head slightly and picked up the unfamiliar object again.

“I must confess I have never used one before.” She turned it in the air and observed it. “What brand is it?” she asked, noticing no manufacturing labels.

“I made it.” She looked over to him, somewhat amazed. “I have a knack for electronics.” He levitated one of the crystal batteries up for her to observe. “Making tools is my job at my workshop, and charging up crystals is a talent of mine, although..” he allowed his horn to crackle with electricity, “any kind of electrical spell comes to me pretty easily.”

She watched his horn spark with some trepidation until it fizzled out. He certainly was an impressive young stallion. With his aspirations, it was no wonder she had been sent here. She was glad she had the chance to observe his talents in action tomorrow.

“So do you like it?” he asked, pulling her back to reality. She nodded vigorously.

“It’s amazing! I’ll never have to worry about a wet mane again,” she finished with a giggle. He smiled happily.

“Good. And as wonderful as the company is, I’m going to turn in for the night. Busy day ahead tomorrow.” He stood and bid them both good night, hugging his father and then Gossamer, which she responded to with a nervous hug of her own. As soon as he made his way out of the room, Drill Bit bid her good night as well, citing a recent rush job that required his attention in the morning. He shut off all but a single lamp and made his way to bed as well.

She sat again on the couch, levitating one of the few gifts she had ever received in front of her, examining a tool crafted specifically for her by a genuine stallion who treated her as family. She did not go to her room until the moon was at its zenith.

Sleep that night was fitful at best.

Chapter Four

Dew glistened on each blade of grass in the still morning air, the sun just beginning to make its ascent from the horizon. The farmers rose with the sun, moving to tend to their fields. The only other soul in town awake so early was one crimson pegasus, currently executing his warmup routine for a training day. He lay on the soft roof of his home and stretched. After flexing in ways an onlooker might question as anatomically possible, he then went into a routine of crunches and wing-ups. Letting free a satisfied sigh, Skyrocket leapt from his perch and swooped through the door to his home. In the foyer, he retrieved the brand new picnic basket he had purchased. Basket in teeth, he was back out the door once again.

He made his way to the deli, offering a greeting to ponies passing by, and when he was close to his destination he landed and trotted the rest of the way. He had already asked the day before that Footlong have his order ready this morning. This time he had purchased a hearty pile of spinach and swiss sandwiches. With today being a whole day dedicated to practice, he had forgone the sodas. The creek provided plenty of crystal clear water to suit their needs, so he had packed several empty sports bottles. With its weighty new contents, he balanced the basket on his back and made his way outside.

He did not make it far along the path to their usual spot before a sapphire foreleg shot out from the bushes on his right and tripped him. He reacted without missing a beat, wing extending and sliding his cargo safely to the ground to his left, while his right unfurled to flap and keep him upright. He used that momentum to roll and come up on on four hooves, low to the ground and in a stable stance. Rather than becoming irate, he let a smirk creep onto his features as his assailant revealed herself.

“Splash Rapids. We meet again.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

“Hiya there, flyboy,” she winked. “Getting better, but still not good enough.” The smirk flickered.

“We’ll see about that. You going to come at me or what?” he taunted.

“Aren’t you such a gentlecolt, letting the lady go first,” she returned as she lunged, ramming into him and bowling him over, then striking out with a rearward buck as he recovered. He executed a leap over her with a thrust of his wings, now in front of her, and delivered a headbutt that dropped her low.

“Getting better, but he’s still not going to let you guys be wardens.” She barely dodged the hooves coming down where her neck had been. They had come down harder than mere sparring blows that time. Now it was her turn to smirk.

“All worked up over a little taunt?” she teased as they traded jabs with hooves. Then he took to the air for back to back flying kicks. She dodged the first and ducked under the second, before leaping from the ground and wrapping her forelegs around him and taking him to the ground, pinning him under her. He tried to land a significant blow but she denied him the leverage he needed.

“If you were really warden material you could break out.” She raised her head in triumph over him. Her confidence faltered as he appeared perfectly at ease.

“True, but I figured I’d rest my wings. Plus every good warden has a partner they can rely on, right, Sparky?” She cocked her head to the side before letting out an undignified huff as a grey mass rammed her off of her rival. Rolling to her feet, she stood, only to let out a yelp and collapse as arcs of static stunned her to to ground. Sparkhorn stood over her, his horn still buzzing with magic. Gossamer was some distance behind, catching up after Sparkhorn executed his sprint.

“I think we’ve won this round, Splash,” he stated simply. He looked to his best friend. “You alright, Sky?” The pegasus wore his signature grin, but it did not quite reach his eyes.

“Peachy! Perfect timing, by the way,” he added as he turned to the now standing warden. “The only reason you beat us into the wardens is because you’ve got two years on us. We’ve got it this time.” The mare only shook her head ruefully.

“You guys may have flashy skills, but I don’t think you get it.” She brushed herself off. “He’s not going to let you in because he was told not to.”

“By who?!” the pegasus exclaimed, exasperated. But one glance at the scowl on Sparkhorn’s face said it all. Drill Bit had the captain’s ear.

“That doesn’t matter.” This caught Splash’s attention. “We’ll show him that we’re ready. That we’re perfectly capable of defending ourselves and the town.” Sparkhorn’s eyes burned with determination. “Whether my dad thinks so or not.”

Splash Rapids was not thick. She had seen their talent and teamwork from day one. She also recognized the force of will behind his statement. She could not help but respect that kind of mental and emotional strength. But she also knew, unless something happened to upset the current order, they stood no chance of overturning a judgement passed before they even began.

“It’s not like I can stop you…” she said at length, “but it also strikes me that you have better things to be doing when you have the odds so stacked against you.” They stood unmoved by her statement, so she shrugged and offered a smile. “Best of luck, featherbrains.”

“Only one featherbrain here,” Sparkhorn quipped as he moved past her and down the path.

Gossamer had watched the whole exchange with unabashed fascination.

Gossamer observed from the shade of the tree as Sparkhorn and Skyrocket began training along the creek. No repetitive drills or practiced routine for these two.

Almost immediately they began freeform sparring. Although she could discern no distinct martial art, they employed more fundamental technique in their hoof to hoof combat. Punches used minimal energy and telegraphed only what wanted to be seen. Kicks were fast and focus was placed on maintaining balance, never overreaching. Sparkhorn used no magic, and Skyrocket had tied his wings to his sides. They had explained that they needed to be ready to fight even when their strongest assets were denied.

To the untrained eye, the sparring looked little different than childhood tussles. In a way, this was true. The tussles the two had enjoyed growing up had evolved into this freeform combat, testing reflexes and improvisation skills. Fixed techniques were only useful in a controlled setting. Real fights demanded a mind as sharp as the jabs employed.

As such, on several occasions the fight rolled to the ground, the two trading dominant positions in a grappling battle for victory. After breaking apart, they would re-engage the sparring to close in and attempt another grapple. This continued up until their first break, roughly an hour after they had commenced.

After downing a healthy portion of water to hydrate and cool off, Skyrocket untied his wings and they resumed their places, Sparkhorn charging up his magic. This served two purposes.

They needed practice fighting with all their skills at their disposal. They also needed to be ready to fight an opponent with special skills, in this case flight and magic.

They were also fatigued and rattled by their previous sparring, so the conditions mimicked extended combat conditions. Stamina and focus needed to last even after enduring the rigors of a fight without losing capability.

Skyrocket immediately took to the air, circling around and attempting to attack from behind. Sparkhorn tracked his movement with his head but did not turn to face him, instead shifting his weight to his forelegs. As Skyrocket dove at him, he bucked out behind him. Skyrocket had anticipated this, and rolled to the right, landing in a low stance and sweeping a leg under the unicorn to catch his forelegs.

Skyrocket pushed off onto his hind legs, letting the low kick pass under him without connecting. His magic, still charged, burst forth in a discharge of electricity. Skyrocket had relaxed his muscles the moment he finished his kick, attempting to mitigate muscle convulsions from debilitating him, and thus merely stumbled back. His friend, in hot pursuit, had now wreathed his forelegs in crackling energy and attempted to stomp down at him. He rolled aside in time to avoid the blow, but felt the small shockwave the attack created roll over him.

As they continued their fighting dance, Gossamer had begun taking notes. Her emerald magic held a quill she had borrowed from Sparkhorn’s supplies, and scratched elegant script across the page she had set beside her on the basket. Their skills were more advanced than anticipated, their practice obviously yielding a better understanding of their skills and talents.

Skyrocket did not fly at speed as many pegasi did in combat, replacing the high-speed hit-and-run tactics of most fighters for an incredibly nimble close-range style. His wings acted to balance him, and powerful flaps allowed him to maneuver on the ground in ways an earth pony or unicorn could not.

Sparkhorn, on the other hand, was not employing complex battle spells such as those employed by the Royal Guard, instead manipulating the electrical magic that came to him naturally in creative ways. Gossamer had once believe lightning spells to be a purely offensive measure, but as she watched him carefully surround himself in a warding field of static she realized he was creating defensive barriers of an offensive nature. It mimicked the traits of spiked armor, preventing strikes by threatening harm to an attacker. However, as far as she could tell, the power he put into his spells was less designed to wound and burn as it was to stun or disable an opponent.

After a couple of dozen or so minutes of sparring, the two came to a stop and fell heavily onto their haunches, panting and smiling like idiots at each other. She could see the beginnings of bruises and a wet red glimmer at the corner of Sparkhorn’s muzzle and Skyrocket’s noze. Both moved over to the creek to clean up a bit and refresh themselves before making their way over to Gossamer.

“So whatcha think?” Skryocket asked with a beaming smile. It was almost comical with the swelling that had started to set in from the couple of punches that had landed. Sparkhorn chuckled a bit as he rubbed his jaw where a kick had clipped him.

“I’ve never seen anything like it! How have you two not passed the test, or, whatever it is you’ve been practicing for?” she asked, noting the matching frowns that were dispelled when the pegasus rolled his eyes at his friend.

“It’s complicated,” was all Sparkhorn said on the subject before switching topics. “But we’re not done today yet, and this next part could be a tad dangerous.” She raised an eyebrow at this. “You may want to watch from behind the tree this time.” As he had been talking, Skyrocket had flown up above the tree before coming back down with a rumbling storm cloud in tow. That grabbed her attention.

“We tried this once before, and Sparky here says he finally worked out the kinks.” This received a nod from the unicorn. “So we’re going to try it again today.”

“How many bolts do you think this one has, Sky?” The pegasus raised an eyebrow at that. “I had a couple ideas about what else we could do with it, one of which might make what we tried last time easier.” The pegasus simply nodded his response, eager to begin.

“I can probably squeeze three or four out of it. Where do you want to set up?” he asked as he began pushing it towards the creek.

“Same place as last time.” Gossamer noted the patch of ground he gestured at, faint scorch marks marring the grass. Sparkhorn moved to stand under the cloud as Skyrocket finished positioning it.

“Alright, test one,” Sparkhorn noted aloud. “Control.” Magic surged along his horn and the familiar sparks of electricity surged along its length. He looked up at his partner and gave a nod, then braced himself.

Skyrocket gave it a solid kick, eliciting a bolt less powerful than their first attempt, but still quite dangerous. Gossamer feared the unicorn would be struck down, but felt her jaw drop as the lightning merged with his magic to form a roiling nimbus of high-voltage power. His eyes gleamed, whether from energy he wielded or some great determination, she could not tell. Her instincts and arcane senses were warning her of dangerous levels of buildup as he overcharged his horn.

This time, his shout was brief and sharp as he cast furious arcs of lightning, three bolts in intensely rapid succession, at a boulder lying further down the stream. With a deafening staccato roar of thunder and an almighty crack, the boulder split into broken chunks, several flung through the air and sailing past her.

She gazed in awe back to the unicorn caster to see him wobble in place, shake his head, then stumble over to the creek and peer down at the water. She could scarcely believe what his only comment on the feat was, and only her stunned state prevented a facehoof.

“Hey, my mane didn’t singe this time!”

After resting for half an hour, discussing improving their combination further, they moved back to their testing site and set up. This time, Sparkhorn wore saddlebags with strange, cloth-wrapped boxes on the side as he stood under the cloud. Both of his companions had expressed curiosity about what they were, but he remained stubbornly cryptic about their purpose.

“I just need to make sure this thing doesn’t get fried when I’m using my magic on full blast. It would really suck horseapples for it to fry while in use.” Skyrocket had merely shrugged, knowing he would not get more out of the unicorn, while Gossamer continued to guess at what the strange harness could be.

“Alright, same deal. Commence on my signal.” The lightning mage once again assumed a stable stance and powered his horn. Seven sizable gems floated out from his pack and began to revolve around him. His horn then charged up into arcing energy as before, and the gems picked up speed. Once more a nod was given, and once more the pegasus triggered a bolt of lightning.

As the bolt struck, Sparkhorn dispersed the magic around him, focusing the power into the crystals, which began to glow spectacularly as they spun faster with the magic he poured out. Having experienced the lightning bolt several times now, he had become better at absorbing the electricity and shaping it, and as he had suspected, having a place to hold that energy while preparing his spells allowed him a higher degree of control. Now to have some fun.

Sparkhorn then proceeded to fire of bolt after bolt of lighting, using the gems as a focus and channel for the magic. As one rotated in front of him, an arc would leap from horn to gem and trigger it, dumping a portion of the electricity trapped within into a whipping bolt. His aim needed work, but after a half dozen more shots at the pieces of the boulder, it had been reduced to rocks the size of his hoof.

“Again!” he called out over the loud sputtering of static. Skyrocket blinked only once before delivering, and watched in awe as his friend pooled an impressive amount of power around him.

Now for the finale. In his mind’s eye, he grasped the energy in each crystal and aligned the gems in a whirling array in front of him, perpendicular to the ground. Arcs of arcane electricity jumped through the space between the precious stones, and through the maelstrom he channeled all the magic he had grasped.

The midday sky seemed dark for a moment as a thunderbolt of stunning brilliance and noise deafened the three ponies bearing witness to its unleashing. It tore in less than the blink of an eye across the stream and against a tree on the edge of the woods, shattering the trunk into splinters and felling the tree with the pop of superheated sap.

This time, Sparkhorn did not even attempt to maintain his footing as he collapsed to the ground, the effort of containing and manipulating such arcane feats having exhausted him, and the results of his work stunning him into contemplation.

“Sweet Celestia, Sparky, that was so feathering awesome!

“Your mane did get singed again, though.”

After cleaning up and collecting their belongings, the trio departed the creek and made their way back into town. The majority of the trip was spent in companionable silence for the two young stallions. Gossamer, however, was processing the rampant contemplation that observing their sparring session, and before, their encounter with Splash Rapids, had evoked. She also could do nothing to dismiss the glances that her pegasus companion was sending her way.

All signs pointed to him being unashamedly interested in her. When he noticed that she had caught him glancing, he just offered that cocky smile instead of acting nervous, and despite herself she blushed. It was not the first time somepony had been interested, she had just never felt that they were so genuine. She could detect no ill will from the pegasus, just honest interest. It made her heart skip a beat, though what exactly that indicated about her own feelings she was unsure.

She reflected for the hundredth time on why she had been sent to Edgewood, as well as the two she had been following. They were friendly and more genuine than any number of ponies she had met, but they were also aggressive and driven. It was a strange combination, for ponies she could readily say would immediately step in to aid another with one hoof, and strike out at anything that they considered a threat with the other. She could only guess how they would respond if she explained herself fully to them. If ponies were so receptive to the truth, why did so many hide their true selves and hold friendship as a thin veneer?

Shaking off her contemplation, she realized they had arrived at Sparkhorn’s shop. Skyrocket offered his farewell and, basket hooked by a foreleg, took off for his home. Sparkhorn had gone inside to pack away his strange harness, and after a moment or two returned and locked the door once more.

“So, you ready to head back? I wanted to talk to dad about a couple things before I turn in for the night,” he told her. She saw the sun beginning to dip towards the horizon and realized she needed to get moving if she did not want to be late.

“I’m actually a tad famished after spending all day outside. All that rough action worked up an appetite for me just watching,” she replied with a giggle she hoped did not sound too forced. If he considered it such, he gave no sign.

“Alright, enjoy! You have bits for it?” he asked. Before she could even reply, he levitated half a dozen bits over to her, which she took in her magic and slid into her bags with a sheepish smile. He just winked and turned to head home.

With that, she set off further into town looking for a cafe that matched what she was looking for.

Sparkhorn arrived home, setting his bags down and heading straight for the shower. With a twist of his magic, cool water poured down over him as he stepped in and he flinched a bit at the chill before relaxing into it and letting it rinse away the sweat and dirt. His cerulean mane was plastered down as he stared down at the drain and emptied his mind, letting all the tension that had built up in the back of his mind unwind as he turned the temperature up and the stream turned to a steamy, muscle-soothing heat. He sat on his haunches and carefully sorted out all the doubts and frustrations in his head, carefully measuring his thoughts and feelings before deciding which should stay and which needed to go.

After he had become quite thoroughly soaked and achieved his desired mental state, he levitated over a bottle of soap and a bath scrub and began to give himself a rough cleaning that nearly doubled as a massage with its vigor. Then, after rinsing the suds away with the last of the grime he had acquired, he shut the spray off and grasped a towel in his magic and dried himself off. His mane more stubbornly held the water, but that changed as static coiled from his horn and along the wild hairs, making them stand on end and evaporating the water. Years spent perfecting his technique meant no singed hairs and the perfectly wild shock of a mane he was known for. It reminded him of a DJ he liked who had seen a surprising rise in popularity for the past several years.

After cleaning up he made his way back to the living room and, as expected, found Drill Bit’s bags sitting in the foyer next to the door as per usual. He turned and made his way to the kitchen where his father was at work preparing a simple meal.

“Gossamer went to hit up a cafe, so she may not be as hungry for dinner tonight,” he said as he approached and levitated a knife over to help chop the vegetables. Drill Bit gave him a quick glance before nodding and turning back to his work. He was quiet tonight. That was never a good sign. He probably knew where the conversation was about to go with their guest absent.

“I guess you would rather I get straight to the point then, huh?” Sparkhorn asked. Silence answered. “You know the next warden exam is coming up, and you know I’m going to try again with Sky. We’re not defenseless colts, dad.” His voice became a bit harder. “We’re grown stallions, with jobs and responsibilities, and this is something we’re both committed to. I know you respect commitment, and you believe that the wardens are respectable, too. You’re practically best friends with the captain, and I have a feeling that’s been stacking the odds against us. I love you dad, but if you’re going to try and stop us…” he trailed off.

Neither had looked up from the work they were doing as Sparkhorn talked. As the younger unicorn looked up he found his father had turned to look at him as well. There was something hard and cold in his father’s eyes for a few moments before the tears began welling up. Sparkhorn tried to hold that gaze, but looked away. There was no shame on either face, merely resignation. His father expertly choked back a sob before answering his son in a wavering voice.

“You do what you have to, son. Please finish preparing dinner. I’m going to go lie down for a bit,” he finished as he turned and slowly trotted around the corner and back to the master bedroom.

The house was silent for the next dozen minutes except for the sound of a knife cutting vegetables.

Author's Note

So I'm very, very sorry it took so long for me to get this chapter up! I hit a wall that was one part writer's block, one part demotivation, and three parts distraction and real life stepping in. Chapter five should not take nearly as long to write, as things start picking up and the true adventure awaiting begins to make itself known.

Also, I've taken the time to go back and reformat the text for a couple of reasons, the biggest being that transferring the chapters from my Google drive the way I had been formatting them always dropped chunks of the story for no apparent reason; something to do with paragraph indentation... It also now matches the formatting for the other stories I've posted, so it helps me feel better about consistency. Anyway, keep an eye out for the next exciting chapter of "Wardens"!