1 - A Light in the Darkness!? Bloody Hooves of the Furious Stars!

Not so very long ago, in the magical land of Equestria…
War.

The seething resentment of generations of segregation and oppression finally exploded into a world-consuming firestorm. The Princesses have gone, their castle in ruins. Nopony knows anymore who or what caused the conflagration, only that nothing matters now but the primal law of strength and might. Those with power prey on the weak, in a wicked and brutal rule of nature ponies had thought was far behind them.
But through this darkness walks a light. One pony with the strength and conviction to protect the innocent, and punish the wicked…
-Hoof of the North Star-
Episode 1: A Light in the Darkness!? Bloody Hooves of the Furious Stars!

From overhead, the pony struggling through the raging sandstorm looked like little more than a dust mote on the endless white canvas of sand. The merciless Equestrian sun beat down on her, her tattered and threadbare brown cloak offering little protection from its abuses. The howling wind blew fine, hard granules of sand into her mouth and eyes, straining the already-worn fabric of her cloak and worming their way into her gray shirt and trousers. Her breathing was labored, ragged. She tried to remember the last time her hooves had been still, the last time she had tasted food or drank water. She found she couldn’t.

All of her thoughts were blocked out by the whirling sand and the howling winds. Merciless sun in the day, cold, distant moon at night. She wondered when the sun would set today. Nopony could tell, anymore. Not since the princesses had vanished and become Goddesses in the minds of ponies. It had been so long ago that only a few living ponies could still remember hearing tales of a time when they had lived and walked among their subjects. She saw herself, putting one hoof in front of the other for as long as she could remember, ever since… that day. She heard her tired, reedy voice heavy with tears, offering futile but earnest prayers to the now-distant Goddesses for their uncertain mercy.

Her forelegs slipped out from under her for what felt like the thousandth time, and without preamble she fell face-first into the sand. She hated when this happened. Looking up, she wondered what it would look like this time.

Sharp and clear in the air before her, she saw her daughter, screaming and spread-eagled, chains fixed to each of her legs. The bolts locking the manacles together also penetrated the flesh and bone of her legs themselves. The tired unicorn was looking over the shoulder of her daughter’s tormentor, an earth pony in a lab coat, his snout and shoulders painted with Moon Light’s blood, as he worked around in her exposed insides with a sharp needle, testing some arcane theories of perverted science, she supposed. Or maybe just having what passed for fun these days.

She looked away from the horrific image, unable to weep any more. Relatively speaking, it wasn’t that bad. She would much rather see such images, pure fictions invented by her fevered imagination, than she would the past. Particularly that day. She had seen more than enough of it.

Shaking her head to clear the nightmarish visions, she struggled to all four hooves, her muscles screaming in agony. She knew at that moment that the next time she fell, she would never rise again.

She focused. One hoof in front of the other. Trembling with each step, she could see at last that it was almost over. She was shamed by the relief she felt, sneaking in past the sorrow of knowing she would never again see Moon. Luna protect you, Littlemoon, she thought to herself, her dry lips no longer capable of speaking the words, even in a whisper, before she collapsed into a motionless heap.

Across the surface of the sand, she saw ponies running, heard shouts and responses. I haven’t seen this vision before…

Then darkness took her.

-

The dark blue unicorn woke up, which shocked her.

She could immediately tell that she was lying on a bed, for which she inwardly rejoiced, although it was a thin and uncomfortable bed. Her head was reeling, and her eyes seemed unenthusiastic about focusing on anything in particular.

A noise seared her aching skull, stabbing through it like a dagger. She winced and placed her hooves over the throbbing agony in a futile effort to massage away the pain. It took a few seconds before her damaged senses began to resolve the noise into anything but an auditory weapon. She recognized it as a voice, and started to work on trying to resolve what it was saying. She knew now that she was in a room, dingy but well-ordered, softly lit by fluorescent lighting just above her.

The cot on which she lay was arranged against a wall alongside several others much like it. Immediately in front of her was a door that she assumed must lead outside, and an arch behind her and to her left led deeper into the building. But for the moment she tried to focus on the painful voice.

“…Hello?” She heard the voice clearly now. Turning her eyes toward it and blinking. She watched curiously as the vague shape resolved into a brown unicorn in a lab coat who, for one terrified instant, she mistook for the earth pony scientist from her latest vision. This impression was quickly dispelled by his horn, by the friendly look of concern on his face, by the lack of her lost filly’s blood covering him, and by his stethoscope cutie mark. She returned his smile weakly, feeling better than she had in weeks, which ultimately wasn’t saying a lot.

“Oh,” he said when she smiled. “I guess you are feeling better.” The sound of his voice no longer burned her mind like a red-hot brand.

“A little. Where am I?” Her voice rasped, and she cleared her throat immediately.

“Oh, I’m sorry. You’re in my clinic, in the village of Hope. We found you collapsed outside of town three days ago.”

Star’s eyes were drawn to the needle inside her left foreleg, attached to a bag of clear liquid beside the table. “You helped me, I suppose?”

The doctor smiled earnestly, and she decided she liked him. “To the best of my abilities, yes.”

“Am I a prisoner?” She asked. “I don’t feel like I’m a prisoner.”

The doctor looked alarmed. “No, of course not. U-unless you wish us harm,” he stammered. He then grinned awkwardly. “You don’t look very dangerous, frankly.”

Star smiled. “No.” She sat up from the not-very-comfortable cot with a vague grimace.

The doctor looked alarmed. “You shouldn’t really move yet…”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine, doctor.” Extending a hoof, she saw with displeasure the sorry, peeling state of her midnight-blue coat. She wondered what kind of disarray her mane was in. Lucky she kept it short. “My name is Star Light.”

The doctor shook her hoof gently. “I’m Doctor Tourniquet. Welcome.”

Star stayed on the table for the moment, not wanting to scare the doctor too badly.

He gestured vaguely to her flank. “I figured your name would be something like that, what with the cutie mark. What do they call that constellation?”

Her face was neutral as she answered. “It’s known variously as the Great Ladle or the Bear’s Paw. The zebras have -or had- some other name for it. Can’t remember what.” She had read up on it extensively when she was a filly, when she had thought that having such an important and auspicious constellation on her flank was just about the coolest thing to ever happen to anypony. It felt like so much longer ago than it actually was.

“Yes, that’s right,” he said in sudden remembrance. “Very unusual. Maybe you can tell me how you got it sometime.”

She was pretty sure the doctor was hitting on her, which she found very cute. And a bit desperate, given how she must look. Gently but swiftly, Star slipped off of the cot on the right side, so as to avoid the earnest but misguided interferences of Doctor Tourniquet. Her hooves were shaky for a moment after hitting the floor, but once they were underneath her she recovered fairly quickly and smiled happily as she took a few tentative steps. Bending down to her left foreleg, she gently took the IV tube in her teeth and pulled it out.

She looked up into the doctors’ eyes, which were wide behind his large glasses. “You seem… very resilient. Are you some kind of warrior?” He averted his gaze. “I… couldn’t help but notice that you do have your fair share of scars.”

Star delicately spit out the IV tube. She kept her feelings locked behind her silver eyes, but smiled when she said: “Something like that.”

She heard a small gasp from the passage leading further into the building, and looked up to see a filly, scarcely eight she would guess, standing stock-still and staring at her. She did not yet have her cutie mark. Her coat was the color of honey, but her hair was a bright red. Her look of surprise gave way to a big smile. “She’s up already, papa?”

“Who is this?” Star gave her most friendly smile to the little filly.

“I’m Splints,” piped the filly, bouncing a bit. She seemed to remember herself, and arched her eyebrow at Star. “And you should still be in bed. Right papa?”

Tourniquet sighed. “Well yes, but… she seems fine to me, little one. We might make an exception just this once.”

Splints nodded. “Okay!” She trotted over to Star and looked up at her with big blue eyes. “After you meet with the Elder, can we play?” She looked crestfallen. “I haven’t had anypony to play with for such a long time.” She looked to her father, suddenly apprehensive. “I’m sorry papa, I forgot to ask. Is she safe?”

“Um… I think she’s probably safe, yes, little one.” Tourniquet’s eyes flickered awkwardly towards Star. “We’re going to have to talk about the proper way to have these sorts of discussions.”

Star came down to Splint’s eye level, smiling. “I’d love to play later. I’ve got a filly about your age.” There was a small but bitter pang at the mention of Moon.

Her eyes wide, Splints gasped excitedly and began launching a barrage of questions about Moon, not even bothering to give her time to answer. This one has been sheltered, Star thought. That should do her heart good. Until she can’t be sheltered anymore.

Star smiled awkwardly, not really knowing how to respond. Or even how to process such foalish exuberance. It had never been like this for her and her sisters. And certainly not for Moon.

She should probably just stay here, she thought as Tourniquet tried to calm his daughter down. Stay here and forget about the doom on her shoulders, the legacy she had foolishly chosen to accept. About Moon; alone, suffering, and afraid. When it came to that last, she knew that she couldn’t.

Tourniquet had just managed to calm Splints, by physically muffling her barrage of stream-of-consciousness chatter, questions, and meaningless anecdotes with a hoof over her mouth. He looked at Star, an awkward smile on his face. “Well, we should probably go and tell the Elder you’re awake. You can come with us if you like.”

At that moment there was a knock on the door. “Come in!” The doctor responded. He unmuffled Splints, who had finally gotten the idea and lapsed into a sullen silence. She looked up at him with a frustrated glare.

Through the door came three ponies. The first two Star knew immediately to be guards. She had met enough of the breed to be sure of how they behaved. Unyielding looks in their eyes, they entered first and scanned the room. The first was a large yellow pegasus stallion, the second a graceful blue unicorn mare.

Moments after, an earth pony stallion entered that Star took, from his age and bearing, to be the Elder. She was immediately certain that he was the second-oldest living pony she had ever laid eyes on. He was coffee-colored and his cutie mark was some kind of flower with which she was unfamiliar. Despite his age, he still bore traces of what looked to have been a truly impressive strength in his youth. He was still attractive in a way, his snow-white mane relatively thick if a bit downier than it might once have been, and his green eyes full of laughter. He wore a light brown robe and carried a gnarled cane which he leaned on lightly with his right hoof. His guards kept a close eye on her but made no unfriendly movements.

She nodded at the older pony. “You must be the Elder.”

The older stallion inclined his head slightly, and Star returned the gesture. “Yes. Elder Cornflower.” He regarded her with warmth. “We were beginning to think you would never wake up, my dear.”

Star stretched her neck, enjoying the feel of her aching muscles stirring to life. “Thanks to you and Doctor Tourniquet, I feel much better.” Her eyes were drawn to his guards. She smiled disarmingly. “Do you fear me, Elder?”

The old earth pony chuckled. “Of course not, my dear. But as I am sure you know, these are dangerous times. My guards are merely a precaution. We’ve done everything we can to get you back on your hooves. And look at you now!”

Star nodded. “I’ve come not to expect such decency from other ponies. My name is Star Light. I’ve been here three days, you say?”

Cornflower thought for a moment. “By my count, yes.”

“It seems I’m in your debt then, sir.”

The old pony chuckled. “No no, my dear. It is our duty to assist anypony in need. Such is the will of the Goddesses.”

At that, a dark and vaguely sad shadow crossed Star’s face, but it passed quickly. She nodded. Her smile now was awkward, a foreleg raised in supplication. “If I may continue to impose upon your courtesy… to say that I’m hungry would be an enormous understatement.”

The grandfatherly chuckle from the Elder put her at ease. “Of course, young one. Follow me. I can show you Hope, such as it is, on our brief walk. After all, you should get some fresh-“ he hesitated. “Well, at least some sort of air in your lungs.” He gave an apologetic smile. There was nothing anypony could do anymore about the quality of the Equestrian air. The Atomites had seen to that. Star nodded.

Splints burst out anew as they were about to go. “Elder, Elder! Star says she’ll be my friend! Can you believe it? A new-” she was cut off as Tourniquet muffled her once again, grinning apologetically. Her stubby legs waved wildly as she tried to express her glee through gesticulation. Star smiled without meaning to, a rare and pleasurable experience these days.

“You’d better leave before she really gets going,” Tourniquet told them.

Star gave Splints her friendliest smile. “I’ll come back to see you, Splints. I like having new friends, too.”

Tourniquet suddenly spoke up, as though he hadn’t been meaning to. “You could... take your meal with me if you like, Miss Star.”

Star thought about it. She looked to the exuberant Splints, still trying to communicate her happiness without the use of words. She doubted she’d be able to eat a bite.

The Elder directed an even look at the young doctor. “I am sure our guest would like to eat in peace, young stallion. Here she would be interrupted by a lovesick doctor and a charming but somewhat over-excited filly.” He looked to Star with a slight smile. “Do I guess correctly?”

She drooped a bit in embarrassment. “Well… I do think I’d prefer to eat alone.” Splints was momentarily crestfallen, a sight so sad and adorable that it caused Star physical pain. “But I will be back. Just… give me some time.” At that, Splints seemed to shift gears back to super-excited in a heartbeat.

As she turned to leave, Star noticed a pained look pass over the Filly’s face. Although she recovered from it quickly, back to foalish exuberance in a heartbeat. Star bent to the filly’s eye level once more. “Are you in pain, Splints?”

Tourniquet spoke up quickly. “No no, she’s fine. She was playing on the outskirts with Cloves last week and she took a little fall.” he waved a hoof. “Just some pain. I’m sure it’ll pass.”

Star’s brow furrowed. After a week it most likely already should have. I suppose I could fix it. But it’s been years since I used the Starhoof for that.

Elder Cornflower cleared his throat. “Miss Star? Is... everything alright?”

Looking to the Elder’s kind expression she smiled apologetically. “I... have something to discuss with the doctor and his daughter. In private.” The Elder raised his eyebrows. “A matter between a patient and a physician,” Star clarified, blushing lightly.

Cornflower’s expression was even as his eyes shifted from Star to the doctor. He nodded. “Very well.” He nodded to his guards, who stepped out the front door. He looked to Star. “Take what time you need. We will wait. “ He followed his guards.

Star smiled to herself and turned to Splints, who beamed up at her.

“Miss Star?” Asked Tourniquet. “What is this about?”

Star trotted over to Splints, who stood beside her father, exuberance barely contained. She sat down close to the two of them. “You helped me,” she said to Tourniquet. She averted her eyes. “I can’t remember how long it’s been since somepony helped me. Not unless they expected something out of me.” Maybe not ever. She smiled at him. And noticed that he was blushing harder and harder. She frowned. “Doctor! Where is your mind at?”

He stuttered awkwardly. “I... apologize, Miss Star. But it’s been a long time since there’s been an unattached mare of my age in the village. But...” he swallowed hard. “If you aren’t referring to... that.... then what?”

Splints looked between the two of them in bewilderment. “Can somepony tell me what’s going on?”

Star sighed, shaking her head at the embarrassed doctor. She smiled down at the filly. “I can cure your headaches. But it would be much simpler if you didn’t tell anypony about it. Alright?”

“Okay, Miss Star!” Splints said immediately.

“I... don’t understand,” said the doctor. “How can you cure them?”

“Yeah,” said Splints. “My papa’s the best doctor in the world, and he can’t do anything.” Her eyes widened in awe. “Are you a better doctor than him?”

“No, little one. I’m not a doctor. Never mind how I can do it. I just need you to relax for a minute, okay?”

Splints nodded happily. “You got it, Miss Star!” She sat down and waited with surprising patience, her big brown eyes looking up at Star with the complete trust of the young.

Star focused slowly, her breathing even and measured. It had been a long time since she had touched anypony’s chakras for any reason but to cause them harm. She had never been good at using the art of the Starhoof for anything but death. Healing had always been Silvercloud’s specialty. Comet had once said that she had almost discovered an entirely new way of using the Starhoof style. Although ponies in ages past had known that the Starhoof could be used for healing as well as destroying, nopony, as far as any of the records had shown, had ever devoted themselves to it like Silvercloud had.

Still, Star was basically aware of how it was done. At least, of how something so simple as this was done. And this doctor and his filly were the kindest ponies she had met in years. He deserved something from her. If only because most ponies would already have tried to take whatever they could.

Star had studied the diagrams, memorized the points for so long, that when she looked at the filly’s surprisingly-still body, she could almost see the myriad points of focus along her chakras, like stars shining in the night sky, by which she could paralyze, kill, or do any number of other things.

Every pony was like a miniature galaxy of stars, the points in their bodies’ natural rivers of energy where that energy ran over and could be touched by somepony who knew how to do so. By putting out or rearranging those stars with hoof or horn or magic, she could destroy, maim, or heal as she saw fit. Star had only recently realized how terrible and evil a power this was. Only when it was too late for her.

Raising her forelegs to both sides of the filly’s head, her silver eyes focused and empty, she took a split-second to search out the points she knew she must rearrange. Quickly but very gently, she simultaneously touched both sides of the filly’s head. She felt a small electrochemical pulse from the misaligned chakra, and then she knew that all was right. She set her hooves on the floor once more and smiled at her. “Do you feel better now, Splints?”

The little filly shook her head, sneezed inexplicably, then nodded happily. “No more ouchie!” Star smiled at her.

The doctor had a look on his face that Star had seen on soldiers whose eyes had seen too much combat. “How did you do that, Miss Light?”

Star raised a hoof, a big grin on her face. “Ah ah ah, doctor. I told you not to ask.”

The doctor smiled kindly at her. “But I didn’t promise not to...”

They both shared a gentle laugh. Splints was excited by the outburst, and bounced around them in a circle singing ‘no ouchie’. That only made them laugh more. Star realized then that the sound of laughter had become almost foreign to her ears.

“Thank you, Miss Light,” the doctor told her when everypony had calmed down and he held Splints fondly at his side. “I won’t tell anypony.” He shrugged. “I can’t imagine why you wouldn’t want me to, but... can I ask you one thing?”

Star nodded without considering it much.

The doctor paused for a moment, but then met her eyes. “Why do you seem so sad every time I look at you?”

Star felt a pang. He had no right to ask that. Her expression was more guarded than before as she spoke. “I should go,” she said, trotting quickly out the door, scarcely even registering the exuberant farewell from Splints.

She winced as her eyes were once again subjected to the hard, blinding light of the Equestrian Daylight. Star smiled weakly as she joined the Elder and his guards, still uncomfortable in the aftermath of the doctor’s final question.

The Elder began to speak evenly. “All is well, I suppose?”

Star nodded.

“Did you enjoy the company of our doctor’s charming daughter?”

She smiled again. “Very much so, Elder.”

“It is wonderful to see such exuberance in the young, isn’t it? We have only a few children here, but they are our dearest treasures.” He gestured widely to the town around him with his right foreleg. “Welcome to our village, Miss Light. We are few, but we make a meager living taking advantage of the cultivation technologies left behind by the Atomites.”

Star was shocked. “You’ve managed to make the Gardens function?”

The old stallion gave a friendly smile. “In a limited capacity, yes. I have heard of it being done before. In the Mountain Fortress Octavia to the north, I had heard there had been some successful exploitations of the Atomites’ lost farming techniques.”

Star’s face went blank and expressionless. “Yes, I… heard that as well,” she stuttered, leaving too long a silence. The Elder seemed not to catch it, but she still winced inwardly before assessing her surroundings with the quick efficiency to which she was accustomed. From what she could see, Hope consisted of what had once been four roads but were now little more than dirt paths, arranged roughly in the shape of a pound sign. In the middle of the town squatted the leaning ruins of an Atomite town hall, its careworn façade visible from anywhere in the town. Seeing it, she was shocked it still stood. But many Atomite structures did so, despite what they had done to the rest of the world. They had been strange ponies. The other buildings in the town were pretty uniformly run-down, but many served new purposes nonetheless, whether as private dwellings or as storefronts offering various services. There was a makeshift open-air marketplace around the remains of the Atomite Hall as well.

Ponies went about their business, most of them regarding Star and her new companions with open looks and friendly smiles. Star was unaccustomed to such behavior, so much so that she chastised herself for finding it suspicious. Friendliness and decency should be rewarded, she reminded the paranoid little pony inside.

The Clinic was on the inner side of the western street. Looking at it from the outside, she could tell that it had once been a garage of some sort but had been re-purposed, like many of Hope’s structures. It now bore the large red plus sign that Star had often seen associated with medicinal pursuits.

Elder Cornflower continued. “We face infrequent raids, but we have capable defenders and strong fortifications built on the outskirts. We generally manage to turn them away without too much trouble.”

Star arched an eyebrow at the old pony. “You don’t pay tribute to the Daughters?”

A hard look on Cornflower’s face gave Star a glimpse of the brave and fierce young warrior he must once have been. His expression was hard. A pony had to be hard to survive in these times. “Certainly not. Those monsters scarcely deserve to be called ponies. We will give them precisely nothing, my dear.” Looking her in the eyes as they kept a leisurely pace, his stony expression resolved into an easy smile which Star could scarce help but return.

“That’s… very impressive,” she offered, averting her eyes.

Cornflower nodded. He stopped for a moment, a vague grimace on his face. “And, on a personal note... I do hope you’ll forgive our young doctor his discourtesy. He’s a young stallion with all the commensurate needs but little outlet for them. I’ve tried to care for him as much as possible, but there are things I can’t provide.” He smiled fondly. “I’m sure caring for a lovely mare such as yourself for three days was... a difficult task.”

Star blushed in spite of herself. “I think you give me too much credit, Elder.” She didn’t want to imagine how dirty and dishevelled she was. “But thank you.”

The Elder chuckled. “You’re a stout-hearted pony, Miss Star. Mares like you make me wish I were young again.”

Star gave an unintentional laugh. The second such outburst in the same day, she realized. The moment they had been sharing was interrupted by a loudly-booming voice.

“Elder!” The voice was thickly accented, deep, and so loud it shook Star’s bones. Star’s bubbling laugh was cut off by a squeak of sudden surprise. The Elder, after starting along with her, gave an uncharacteristically frustrated expression. He looked unpleasant for the first time since Star had met him.

Turning to see the source of the booming tones, her silver eyes widened as she looked on a sight that neither she, nor anypony she had ever heard of, had seen before.

Towards the two of them lumbered a massive creature; at least two-and-a-half full-grown ponies in height and twice that in length. It moved with surprising grace and certainty despite its size. Although it walked on four legs like a pony, that was where the similarities ended. It seemed to Star to be much more like a massive dog or wolf than anything even remotely equine, but even that didn’t really come close to describing it. The great creature was covered in a thick, lustrous coat of pitch-black fur, on which strange, sharp-edged designs had been painted or dyed, snaking over its entire body. Some of the designs Star could plainly identify as letters, but not from any language she had ever seen. It had a long snout, full of sharp white teeth, with which it was grinning broadly and almost jovially at Star and the three Hope ponies as it approached. The amusement was in its incredible eyes as well. Luminescent pools of amber with large black pupils, they sparkled with a startling and incongruous intelligence. Without the eyes, markings, and other adornments, Star would have assumed it to be nothing more than an animal. A large and frightening animal, but nothing more.

Around its thick neck it wore a splendid necklace of large beads, all of them colored in earth-tones apart from the central pendant. That was triangular and had a color similar to Star’s coat. Its thick, muscled legs as well ended not in hooves, but in claws with four digits apiece. Its claws were also painted white, and even from here Star could see that they were razor-sharp. She wondered for a moment what would happen if she were to do battle with this creature.

Were its chakras arranged the same as anypony’s? Would its body would react the same way when she struck it? Most equines, she knew, had virtually the same alignment of overflow points. But this creature? It was impossible to know without trying, which she had no reason to do. But a blood-drenched pony inside her craved that knowledge, wanted it with burning intensity, like she had wanted nothing else in her life, except perhaps a lover’s touch.

As she always did, she struggled against that instinct, pushing it down into the basements of her psyche with the rest of the things she wasn’t dealing with right now. The Elder frowned and looked at her. “Miss Light, this is...”

“Privyat Voltaic Ursini!” The great creature boomed, exuberant. “Pleased to meet you!” With that, the creature embraced her vigorously. His fur was surprisingly soft and downy, and he carried a whole variety of scents at this close proximity. Most of them, she had to admit, were relatively pleasant. The others were… interesting. Mostly, he smelled like woodsmoke.

Star could feel the massive reserves of raw power in its -or, she supposed, his- paws. She couldn’t help but fear that the sharp claws might accidentally open her flesh, but he could either decide by some obscure magic when to make them rend flesh or else was accustomed to handling ponies gently. His arrestingly beautiful eyes turned to the Elder with a mocking pantomime of annoyance which might have frightened a less brave pony. The Elder’s guards certainly seemed put off by the massive creature, to put it mildly. “You told me you would inform me when new visitor arrived, Cornflower!”

Star spoke up, seeing the indignant look on the Elder’s face. “Good to meet you...” she struggled to remember the odd name.

After a seconds awkward pause, the great creature chuckled at her. “Call me Volta! Everyone -everypony, rather- else does.”

“If it isn’t too rude, Volta… what are you?”

Volta laughed loudly. “Is not rude. How can pony know? None of us left in ponyland, even lesser breeds. I am bear, from land of Canium. Black bear, to be precise. Biggest and best bear of all. If you ask black bears, that is.” He once again laughed raucously at his own jest. Many passing ponies had now stopped to watch the exchange, expressions ranging from interest to fear to distaste.

Though Star had never heard of the land of Canium, she still nodded. “Well, my name is Star Light. It’s good to meet you.” She considered extending a hoof, but then decided that the former embrace probably constituted enough of a physical greeting.

Cornflower sighed. “Volta is a new arrival in Hope. He came here not two days before you, in fact.” There was annoyance in the Elder’s voice, though Star couldn’t see why. The huge… bear… seemed perfectly friendly. Although she guessed he could potentially be hard to feed… what would such a creature eat, anyway? Star considered his sharp teeth and shuddered inwardly.

He turned towards her with a mildly frightening grin. “Have come to tell ponies about Unai. Unai is Great Bear God. Pony Goddesses nice and pretty. Powerful. Respect Pony Goddesses. But Great Bear is simpler.”

Star looked up at him. “Oh?”

“Yes. What do pony Goddesses do? Raise sun, raise moon… do I forget anything else?” It seemed to be a legitimate question.

“Sounds about right,” Star responded. Although they hadn’t raised the sun or the moon consistently for as long as anypony could remember. She thought for a half-second. “I guess... they also watch over us.” If you believed in that sort of thing.

Volta frowned vaguely. “Watch over, yes. But is abstract. They come down sometimes, help ponies. Often cause as much harm as good.” He held up a paw by way of clarification. “From my most-likely limited perspective.”

Star cocked her head. “So… how is the Bear God Unai different?”

Volta bared his teeth in a smile again, and inhaled for a long outburst.

“Perhaps this conversation would best be left until later,” Cornflower interjected. “Our guest is very tired and hungry, and I’m sure she would like to eat in peace.” There was a growing impatience in the last word that Star was uncertain how to react to.

Volta’s ears (those were enough like an equines, at least) drooped and a look of shame appeared on his face. “I apologize most sincerely. Did not know I was keeping you from food. That is terribly rude thing to do where I come from. Would offer to join you but… ponies and bears eat different things. You would not be comfortable.” He considered for a moment. “Plus, I would probably annoy you terribly.” He laughed wildly once again, drawing looks ranging from fear to frustration to amusement from passing ponies, who were now going about their business once more.

Star gave a friendly smile. “You don’t have to apologize, Volta. We’ll talk after I’m a little more fortified, alright? I’ve certainly never met anyp- anyone like you before.”

Volta bowed deep, a grand and courtly sight. “I will look forward to it fondly, dear lady.”

Star nodded politely and watched in wonder as the enormous bear walked off with surprising grace. “I do apologize for that, Miss Star,” The Elder spoke up after there was some distance between the bear and the four ponies. “He came to town several days ago preaching the gospel of the ‘Great Bear’, whatever that is. And I think you can understand that asking somepony like him to leave would carry with it certain dangers.”

Star furrowed her brow at the old pony. “I don’t know, Elder. He seems-” her speech cut short as an audible growl came from her empty stomach. She smiled sheepishly. “Eat first, talk later, I suppose.”

The Elder’s grandfatherly smile returned.

Star was shocked to be led through the communal hall, where ponies ate and talked in relative contentment, to what appeared to be her own private dining room. For ponies in a small village in the middle of Whitesand, the Hope ponies certainly had laid out an impressive spread. Salad, small hoof-sandwiches made with varying kinds of flowers, soups, and a modest assortment of pastries. She was troubled by how much these ponies had been willing to do for her. She would need to find a way to return the favor, she thought as she sat down and set to.

Eating for a pony like her was a benediction. It brought with it memories of other meals, of the ponies she had eaten them with, and of those who were no longer with her. As always when things were quiet, her thoughts went back to Moon. There was the familiar pang of guilt that she was not searching for her lost filly at this very moment. But she had been doing that for days without rest, more than she could count, and all it had earned her was her closest brush with the Deathmare in many years. As she thought about death, she felt the familiar pain rise up from the burnt welts covering the stars in her left flank’s cutie mark. The memory of the day her cutie mark had been mutilated, the worst pain of any kind she had ever felt, had always formed a bulwark for her against most other kinds of suffering. But she didn’t want to think about that right now. She had found a safe place.

So she thought about her sisters.

She didn’t know where any of them were any more, not really. She had heard vague rumors that Silvercloud was in Bastion, the great prison, but she had trouble really believing that. As for the others, it remained difficult to say.

She paused in her reverie.

Star blinked. She suddenly felt very strange. She blinked again, and found the normally subconscious act to be difficult, sluggish. Each of her eyes blinked, she noticed, at different speeds, which didn’t seem normal to her. Her surroundings, also, seemed off. She looked around the room, its features blurring and overlapping before resolving into themselves again.

It wasn’t until she slipped off the modest wooden bench and fell to the floor motionless that she began to understand what had happened. A raging flame of fury lit inside her. She couldn’t move, speak, or even grunt.

She lay on the floor for a few long minutes, frightened and angry. She saw a cockroach crawling by not far from her face, but could do nothing about it. It skittered away as the door edged open cautiously. One of the Elder’s guards, the unicorn, poked her head in and smiled at her position. She spoke, keeping her eyes on Star. “It’s done, Elder.”

Pushing the door completely open, she entered, follow by Cornflower, a sad but resolute expression on his face. “I do apologize for this, Miss Star, but it has been some time since a healthy pony such as yourself has passed through our town. Your organs will trade for food and supplies our village sorely needs. Being the clearly quite moral and decent mare that you are, I’m sure this will provide you some comfort.” His eyes closed, he shook his head sadly. “Once again, I do apologize. This is in no way personal, and I assure you it will be done with absolutely no pain or discomfort to yourself.”

Star fixed her eyes on him, a silver fury burning in them, and he looked a bit taken aback. She was unable to speak, and didn’t attempt to at any rate. There was no longer anything to say, so far as she was concerned.

He looked away from her and nodded to his guards. Straining as her horn flared blue, the unicorn levitated her to drape across the back of the pegasus. “Take her to the doctor,” Flower told them, his face now seeming nothing more than a cruel mockery of the grandfatherly kindness she had seen in it earlier. He looked at her once more. “Ironic that the same stallion who saved your life will now be the one to take it. It’s a bad world we live in, Miss Star.” The old stallion paused for a moment, his expression wavering. Soon, Star knew, a younger stallion would rise up to take his place. He probably couldn’t see it. But they would see the weakness, the irresoluteness, in his eyes. And would destroy him for it.

At length, he spoke. “I understand I am in no position to beg your forgiveness, and I will not. However, consider this: before we did what we regrettably must now do, we nursed you back to health and fed you the most lavish final meal we could muster. What we do, we do with as much grace and equinity as possible. I am sorry.” With that, he nodded, and the pegasus walked out the door.

Walking through the streets of Hope was different now. For one thing, she could no longer do so under her own power, the horror of that fact slowly sinking into her addled brain. The open expressions and friendly smiles had vanished. Now everypony tried to avoid Star’s seething eyes, kept firmly out of the path of the guards and their unpleasant burden. Star was familiar with the behavior of ponies trying to pretend something unpleasant wasn’t actually happening They took her once again towards the clinic. The guards were having an inappropriate conversation about her flanks (she thought that they probably didn’t share the Elder’s views on the importance of equinity) when she noticed that something was wrong.

The guards didn’t seem to feel it. Star had weathered many battles, passed many nights around campfires before storming an enemy stronghold, and fought her way out of more ambushes than she could count. There was a tension in the air that she knew well. It came in the pristine and almost beautiful moments before a fight, when the world seemed to narrow to nothing more than one group of ponies facing another, and nothing else, not ethics or causes or politics, had any importance at all to what was happening. It was the moment where the boring and tedious part of combat suddenly changed into the frantic and bloody part.

Something bad was about to happen, and she could do nothing to warn them.

She felt no surprise when what she assumed to be an alarm began to sound from the east, like the noise of a hammer on a tin plate. The guards were started from their casual conversation, and looked in the direction of the noise. There was shouting and running, but Star could tell that the fighting hadn’t really begun. If she knew one thing, it was the sound of battle.

A middle-aged pegasus mare with razor-sharp wingblades and form-fitting body armor landed on the street not far away from Star and her captors. She stopped when she saw the two guards. “Thrush, Ballpeen, come with me now!”

The pegasus stallion with two golden wings for a cutie mark, called Thrush she supposed, looked stupidly towards the clinic. “But… we’re supposed to take this to the doctor…”

The older pegasus looked at the burden on Thrush’s back, and her face contorted briefly with disgust. She shook her head. “Leave her! It’s the Legion!”

Along with everpony present, Star’s heart sank.

No matter what they may have been planning to do to her in that clinic, these ponies didn’t deserve the Legion. Nopony did. She had seen villages that had tried to fight Legion troops once they had finished. The Daughters may have been meaninglessly cruel monsters, but the Legion were methodical. Star could say with absolute conviction that the method was worse than the madness.

Thrush dropped her to the ground almost immediately and took to the air with the older, well-armed Pegasus mare, the unicorn Ballpeen following along on the ground after them, moving as one towards the sound of the alarm. Star lay in the street, unable to move, as various ponies from Hope rushed past her, everypony going to the east. She could hear sounds of fighting now, frenzied and high.

Had she retained her power of speech, she would have told them they were going the wrong way. She could see the Legion pegasi, many of the larger ones carrying armored unicorn warriors, swooping down on the village from all directions. All of the pegasi carried bundles of ceramic pots, which Star knew from experience to be full of a magically-fabricated mixture that would burn quickly and evenly. They began to drop them all over town, and now Star heard the pitiful screaming of suffering ponies begin. Several unicorns were dropped near her, both mares and stallions, as the Legion pegasi, their burdens shed, took to engaging members of their own species from Hope, in what was more than likely a hopelessly uneven battle for the village pegasi.

They were outclassed and unfocused, their attentions split between fighting their own private life-and-death struggles, and seeing, far below them, their village burning, their friends dying. She knew the Legion well. There wasn’t a single weapon, physical or otherwise, that they would fail to use to their advantage.

The unicorns newly-landed in the village gave her a quick look, but resolved without much attention that she was no threat. Star knew it was almost over. The unicorns levitated wicked blade and cudgel weapons, sometimes two or three at a time, and began working their way through Hope, mercilessly killing any defenders who failed to surrender. Star didn’t want to see this. But she refused to look away.

Earth ponies slowly began to show up, most of them large and impressively armored, all of them spattered with blood, most of it not their own. They were the phalanxes of seasoned veterans that were used to break through the most heavily-hardened defenses. Star surmised that they had just made short work of the ‘fortifications on the outskirts’ of which the Elder had been so proud. She wondered briefly where Volta had gotten to. Surely he would have been useful against the Legion. She wasn’t even certain what he could do, but there had clearly been magic about him. Plus, there was him, and that was saying a lot on it’s own.

She looked up, and high above, she saw a pegasus mare circling. Apart from her the skies were empty, most of Hope’s pegasi having been killed or captured. Bring help, she urged the lone pegasi vehemently. Please, leave and bring help or your friends will die. Not to mention herself, if this poison was permanent. The Legion troops now moved freely through the streets of the doomed village.

She saw another pegasus, bright with red legion colors, streak in and collide with the one from earlier, and for a moment she couldn’t tell what was happening. The two pegasi, little more than indistinct dots at this range, flew out of Star’s line of sight. In Hope, things were winding down. Star could hear and see only a few remaining tokens of resistance. She knew how the Legion worked, and was certain it would be over soon. An earth pony mare and a unicorn stallion, both clad in the semi-formal red armored uniforms of the Legion, stood near enough that Star could hear their conversation.

“That it?” The mare asked, a leering smile spread emphatically across her face.

“I guess so,” responded the stallion with little noticeable feeling. “Not the most exciting raid I’ve ever been in.”

“Good enough while it lasted,” the mare mused. She leaned slightly closer to the stallion, who Star got the impression didn’t like her much. “Now it’s time for fun.”

He nodded. “Business first, though.”

An authoritative stallion’s voice boomed from somewhere to Star’s left. “Gather survivors!” There were no dead on this street, at least not that Star could see. The soldiers’ eyes were naturally drawn to Star. The mare grinned uncomfortably. “What’s this?” The stallion rolled his eyes in boredom as the earth pony walked over at a leisurely pace. “This here is a survivor, I would say. And still alive, by the looks of it. Hey Armor,” she shouted over her shoulder to the unicorn. “Found a pretty one for you.”

The stallion Armor walked a bit closer, squinting at Star. She could hear weeping and pleading from adjacent streets, and the soft, gurgling gasps of a pony with its throat slit. Virtually all the stallions would be killed outright, she knew. “Why isn’t she moving?” Armor cocked his head as he asked the question, his tone disinterested.

The mare shrugged. “Who cares? Look at those eyes. So pretty, and sooo angry. But I’d say this one won’t resist. Drugged. Or paralyzed, maybe.”

Armor frowned. “Takes the fun out of it, doesn’t it?”

The mare looked at Armor, her eyes a mimicry of mercy. “I have to pity somepony who thinks everything needs to be some kind of struggle.”

Armor smiled for the first time, looking Star up and down. “Maybe not everything.” The two shared a laugh. Star felt a shiver of revulsion that didn’t quite make it to her unresponsive nerve endings.

“Armor! Powder!” A pegasus stallion landed near them, his eyes narrowed. “Get over here and help with the prisoners! We’ll deal with this pristine little gift after we’ve finished.”

“Yes sir!” The soldiers spoke as one, the fierce discipline that tempered Legion ponies making it almost subconscious. Star could see smoke rising in merry little plumes from various sections of the village now. She knew the Legion would contain any fires it didn’t wish to burn. She saw a larger plume from the center, and her impotent fury only grew when she smelled the telltale stink of burning flesh.

Star heard movement behind her. She recognized the squeak of the clinic door opening slowly. She heard scared, labored breathing and saw Doctor Tourniquet peering down at her. Immediately she locked eyes with him, much of the fury there for him alone. His eyes darted up and down the street. A syringe full of vaguely luminescent blue liquid floated beside him. He whispered quietly. “I know what you think of me, but you must believe that I was looking out for the welfare of this village, as well as for Splints. Now I want to help you. I don’t care what happens to me, I have to make this...”

Dust and grit were kicked up as the older pegasus from before cut the doctor off when he dropped to the ground in front of them. “Hello, doctor,” he said evenly. “What are you doing here? You should have come out. The Legion respects medical personnel.” He grinned unpleasantly. “When we aren’t assassinating them.” He looked down at Star as four more pegasus stallions landed around him. “What are you doing with our prize here?” Three unicorn stallions, one of whom was Armor, joined the pegasi. Powder followed. Star suspected the mare had some kind of attraction to Armor. Star knew it would end badly for her, particularly if Star had anything to say about it. The older pegasus continued. “She belongs to my unit.”

The doctor stammered. “I-I only meant to help you. I know winners when I see them. The drug we used to sedate her will soon wear off. You’d rather have her remain compliant, yes? She can be quite fierce.”

The pegasus stallion looked into Star’s eyes and smiled broadly. “I can certainly believe that.” He looked to the unicorn stallions and gestured towards the clinic. “Take the girl inside so that the good doctor can work his magic.” His eyes returned to Tourniquet. “Rest assured we will remember this service, doctor.”

For the second time that day, Star was levitated against her will. The pegasus bucked open the door to the clinic. Star caught a glimpse of Splints peering at her from behind an overturned gurney. She prayed to both Goddesses and the Great Bear, for good measure, that the filly would remain undiscovered. Young ponies captured by the Legion did not fare well. The unicorns levitated her unceremoniously to a cot and dropped her. The eight stallions began to remove their armor. The older pegasus spoke briskly to Tourniquet. “Do your work, doctor. We’re tired and in need of entertainment.”

Tourniquet trotted over nervously, the glowing syringe levitated by his head. “It’ll just be a moment...” he was interrupted by a commotion from the corner of the room, followed by a pathetic, sobbing cry.

Star could see Powder come up from behind the overturned cot, holding Splints tightly around the neck with a hoof. “Look what I’ve found!” The filly wailed again, her hooves reaching pathetically for Tourniquet. The doctor, for his part, looked like hope had left his personal world. The scream cut into Star’s heart, her whole being crying out for vengeance. Powder laughed with glee, looking at the heartbroken doctor. “You try anything funny, doctor,” Powder explained, “and the little one loses her right to breathe.”

The others sighed and rolled their eyes. “Get on with it, doctor,” spat the captain, clearly frustrated with the insane earth pony. Tourniquet looked into Star’s eyes.

She could see the pleading there. She merely looked back at him blankly, trying to reassure him as much as she could. If I regain my power of movement, no Legion soldier in this clinic will leavealive, she thought as she returned his stare. She didn’t know if he understood explicitly, but he couldn’t miss the deadly resolve in the otherwise serene silver pools, nor the fury. He swallowed hard and, closing his eyes as he muttered prayers to the Goddesses, levitated the needle into her thigh and depressing the plunger.

Star immediately felt different. She realized only now that she had been quietly despairing, near to hysterical weeping, at the loss of her mobility. She supposed her mind had been sparing her from the trauma to focus on more important things. Now she rejoiced as she felt muscles and sinews coursing with blood and anger again. She was more angry than she could remember being in years. She would spill blood today. But her eyes were immediately drawn to the earth pony mare who held the sobbing filly in a death-grip, a horrendous light in her eyes in anticipation of the brutal and depraved spectacle she thought she was about to witness. Star knew she would have to stun them into temporary inaction if she wanted to be sure that Powder never had a chance to hurt Splints. She thought that the mad earth pony was just within range of her telekinesis.

Striking somepony’s chakra by telekinesis was different than doing it by hoof, but not practically speaking. Star had been the only one of her sisters who was really good at it, but she had to be certain about the range and timing before she tried.

So she waited.

“Armor, you go first,” the captain spoke once the doctor had stepped away. “You distinguished yourself today, soldier, and I’m proud of you.”

Star was disgusted at the genuine emotion in the pegasus’ eyes, as though his father had just congratulated him on a job well done. “Thank you, sir,” he said, trotting to the table. Star remained motionless as he climbed atop her. Straddling her, he grinned into her still and emotionless face. She knew she couldn’t hold back much longer. “I want you to look at me while I take you, cunt.”

Her eyes flared into a disturbing white luminescence as she considered his chakras. It was an infinitesimal moment, but her mind worked quickly under pressure. Armor’s chakras were the same as anypony’s. Briefly, she studied the options open to her There were numerous less obvious ways she could end his life. But this one deserved something big. Something that would make an impression on everypony in the room.

Moving with lightning speed, Star’s right hoof snapped up and struck the unicorn firmly beneath his chin, putting out a chakra that Star knew would have the desired effect. He was dazed but unhurt. For what Star knew were the last moments of his life, he stared down at her in confusion. “But I thought she...”

Armor never had a chance to finish his thought, before his eyes swelled grotesquely and burst. His head followed quickly, rupturing in a crimson geyser. Her horn and eyes alike flaring into a burning white light, she used her telepathy to fling the still-jerking corpse into the captain at impressive speed, smashing him against the wall.

She turned next to Powder, her eyes wide, as she continued to hold the wildly-screaming filly in a shocked and now-slackened death grip. Star’s horn flared once again as she directed swift hammers of force to overflow points on the mare’s legs and neck. The mare seized up in agony almost immediately, bits of her simply no longer working. Star had put out several vital overflow points, and knew that her death would be a slow agony. As it should be. She dropped the filly and collapsed to the floor in shock. Three more strikes from Star’s magic and the remaining unicorns went down, faces contorting in terrible but brief agony as shut-off chakras flooded their hearts, which exploded inside their chests. Magical enemies took first priority, Star had been taught from a young age.

It had been only a few seconds since Armor’s death, but the small room was bedlam between the high, horrified screams of the filly, the blood from Armor’s impressive death, and the shocked cursing of the remaining four ponies, whose impressive scope was was covering just about every part of the Celestial Sisters’ anatomies. The captain had been badly hurt by the crushing impact with Armor’s corpse, but he was trying to get up. Star was more concerned with the three pegasi, who had recovered enough of their wits to begin to mount a desperate defense. Star faced them as they charged her, her terrible eyes devoid of any feeling or color, reduced to nothing but pools of seething, burning white.

These three would suffer. The first aimed a quick and deadly wingblade at her throat. Her reflexes a bit better, she ducked just enough to allow it to pass over her head, and struck the base of his wing with her right hoof as he passed, putting out a vital chakra forever. The wing, his left, almost immediately went rigid and snapped in four places. He first gasped in shock and then screamed in agony. His legs came out from under him as the pain rocketed through his nervous system and he went down in a sobbing heap.

The second was too frightened in the moment Star had given him to make an attack, before a decisive strike to his right foreleg caused his throat to close up. He collapsed, his mouth working meaninglessly as he tried to force air through his now-shut windpipe. The third, the largest and clearly bravest, attempted to tackle her, a tactically-sound attempt to employ his superior weight. Light on her hooves, she flipped over his dangerously quick approach, striking his back along the spine with three unimaginably swift blows as she did so. Before he smashed into the wall, knocking himself out, his spine twisted into impossible shapes. Had she intended to let him live, he never would have moved again.

Landing lightly, Star looked past the suffocating pegasus, past his fellow who was cradling his useless wing as he sobbed, to the captain. He stood across the room, huffing and regarding her with a strange admixture of abject fear, deep respect, and terrific anger. “My… men. You… whore. I had to… fight to get them. And now…” Star walked slowly towards the captain, quickly and efficiently striking the neck of the sobbing pegasus with the mangled wing as she passed, efficiently putting out one of his chakra’s overflows.

He barely had time to scream “No!” before his head warped grotesquely and exploded. Star lifted a forehoof to her eyes to shield herself from the resultant deluge. She was covered in the blood of her enemies, and the blood-drenched pony normally buried deep in her psyche reveled in it. She had no time now to fight those instincts.

The captain grimaced at her. His right legs were badly hurt, the skin on his head split open. She was impressed by his resolve as he planted his hooves on the ground and faced her solidly. “You think… that you can just kill my boys... and get away with it!?”

Her eyes narrowed only slightly. Her voice echoed with magic and an impersonal but still fierce anger. “Your stallions had already died when they entered this room with the intention of violating and debasing another pony. No living creature deserves such treatment.”

“BITCH!” He screamed, and came at her.

Not looking away from the fast-approaching pegasus, Star seized a scalpel from a tray nearby in her telekinetic grip and drew a red line across his throat in a lightning-fast movement. She brought it whipping around and held it by her head, watching dispassionately as he stumbled and fell, his blood pouring out to commingle with that of his fellow soldiers. She looked on with inequine poise, her unfeeling white eyes burning brightly as he died a pathetic, gurgling death on the blood-soaked floor. After he had quit breathing, she sent the scalpel rocketing into his eye, burying it completely, just to make sure. She pulled it straight out, and it flew over to the pegasus with the broken spine, cutting his throat as well. He was lucky. Unconscious, he died peacefully.

She became aware of a sobbing to her right. The searing nightmare-light vanishing from her eyes, leaving the kind silver orbs once more, she looked to Tourniquet and Splints. The scalpel, still levitating near the dead pegasus, clattered to the floor. They huddled together in the corner near the horrifically twisted corpse of Powder. Star couldn’t be sure when she had died. But she could be sure of one thing; it had been an agony. A fitting punishment for her sins. This knowledge left Star deeply satisfied. Splints hid in the doctor’s hooves, shaking like a leaf and sobbing rhythmically. Both were spattered with blood that, thankfully, was not their own, and the doctor’s green eyes were wide and staring. Star smiled awkwardly at them. How else, she wondered, should she follow up on what she had just done? “Goddesses…” the doctor whispered. “It really is you.”

Her face revealed nothing. “Do you know me, doctor?”

The doctor took a moment to respond, stroking the back of Splints’ head. “I… saw your cutie mark. When I was tending to you. Some time ago, I heard tales of Star Death-Hooves, the heir to the Death-Hoof style. I… heard she had died, but…” his frightened eyes took in the gore-soaked clinic. “…But here you are.”

“More or less,” she responded evenly, gazing distantly at her cutie mark, no longer hidden by her cloak. The Bear’s Paw. The word ‘bear’, she mused, had meant nothing to her before today. She then wondered again where Volta had gone off to. She drew tentatively closer, and Splints’ trembling increased. “…Splints? The bad ponies are dead now. It’s just Star. You don’t need to be afraid.”

The doctor leveled a neutral gaze at her. If he was angry at her for frightening his daughter he concealed it well. He would have been well within his rights. Even if saving her the Legions’ attentions had been more than worth the price. “I think you can understand how she feels.”

“Yes… of course. But I would never hurt you, little one.” She returned her attention to the doctor. “There are still others outside. Stay here and don’t leave. We need to talk after.” She regarded him pointedly. “Can I have your word?”

After a slight pause, the doctor nodded. Star looked at him for a moment, painfully aware of what she must look like to the sheltered filly. Then she turned and walked out the door, the wails of Splints still ringing hurtfully in her ears. Of course she was terrified. What pony wouldn’t be? Star shook her head, admonishing herself quietly.

Her horn glowing merrily, she shut the door behind her as quietly as possible, scoping out the deserted streets. She headed for the sickly-sweet plume of smoke that rose from the village center. Walking along the path that led to the badly-damaged and almost entirely unrecognizable Atomite statue at the heart of Hope, she beheld a horrific scene.

A sobbing gray unicorn stallion lay cradling the corpse of a once-beautiful white unicorn mare, the sight of her pregnant belly only serving to fuel Star’s already-overflowing rage. The unicorn’s glazed, empty eyes stared at nothing, the tears she had wept beginning to dry in the indifferent sun. Elder Cornflower was nowhere to be seen, but these ponies had clearly been higher up in the local pecking order. Those were the ponies the Legion enjoyed targeting the most. Although neither was having a low income any protection from their depredations.

Screams and animalistic grunts came through the open door of the Atomite hall. The soldiers around the stallion laughed and smiled as he wept. Anger didn’t touch Star’s face as her eyes flared pure white once again. “That’s enough!” Her voice echoed resoundingly.

The soldiers, regarding her in shock and awe, paused from their afternoon’s entertainment only briefly. Soldiers of the Legion were many things, but stupid wasn’t one of them. They surrounded her quickly, while keeping their distance. Seeing a pony covered in blood that was obviously not her own clearly invited caution from these ponies. Star stood still and tall. A blue unicorn mare rapped a hoof on the open door frame of the once-proud town hall. “Slab! There’s a situation!”

There were dim sounds of movement from within the building, the grunts ceasing and the screams dying down to sobs. Then the most ridiculously huge earth pony Star had ever seen emerged. He was nearly the same size as Volta. His teeth were stained with blood, and several ponies’ heads hung from the armored harness he wore. His cutie mark, appropriately, was a large slab of stone. It was not difficult to notice that he was… excited.

“What?” He spoke simply, suppressed wrath in his voice. “I’m busy with this weaklings’ daughters.” He gestured to the sobbing, broken-looking unicorn stallion. Star supposed Slab must be good. This didn’t seem like the sort of pony the Legion commonly promoted to command positions.

“I’m not in a merciful mood,” Star spoke in her own ringing tones, augmented by her burning magic. “This town deserves better than you, if not by much. They take advantage of the weak and defenseless for their own gain.” There was a slight narrowing of her flaring eyes, although there was little emotion there. “I doubt even monsters such as you need to be told what fault I find in your own actions.”

“I think I miss your meaning, Littlehorn,” said the huge earth pony, drawing out sarcastically the patronymic often employed by the mothers of unicorns.

“I give you one chance to leave in peace. Choose to stay and none of you will live to see another day. By the stars, I swear it.” Her eyes flared brightly as she spoke the battle oath of her ancient art.

The stars would punish her now, if she broke it.

When he heard the deep magic in her tones, even Slab, clearly enjoying himself until then, faltered, a brief look of apprehension flashing across his blood-stained face. He recovered quickly, laughing loudly. He was not joined by his soldiers, all of them wearing grim, reserved expressions. “You will die, bitch.” With that, he turned to the town hall and gripped a jutting wooden support in his teeth. His muscles straining momentarily, he wrenched it from the wall, the front façade of the building finally giving up after centuries of stubbornly holding, and tumbling down with a great gout of dust and debris, cutting off the pathetic sobs and sniffles coming from inside. Star lost sight of Slab, but was unsurprised when he galloped at her out of the dust, murder in his eyes.

He moved at the impressive speed that a pony of his size was able to reach. Intimidating in a controlled charge on the battlefield, she knew. But he was all momentum and no control. Leaping nimbly over his surprisingly fast sweep of the formerly load-bearing timber, she sent a small lightning-strike of force into his hindleg as it touched the ground, sending the earth pony tumbling awkwardly, only really stopping when he collided with one of his soldiers, a pink pegasus pony. Star landed lightly and turned to face him, her eyes still impenetrable white pools of fire, his twin mirrors of bloodshot shock and rage.

She couldn’t see him with any mercy. Still, she wondered what his life had been like. He had undoubtedly had a mother and father. Had once been an awkward colt like her own daughter. What must he have seen to bring him to this? He deserved none of this consideration, and yet… she looked at herself, at the blood that didn’t belong to her. She couldn’t smell anything right now, apart from the stench of death that followed her.

Star was tired of this. She spoke again as Slab struggled up, breathing heavily in his fury. “One last chance, Slab. Please go. I don’t want to kill you, no matter how badly you deserve it.”

His muscles straining in anger, he screamed loudly at her past the timber he held in his mouth, rushing forward once again. This one was not used to losing. But he had exhausted his chances. Her face grew blank once more as her horn flared. The magical strike to his neck stopped him in his tracks, causing him to stumble, as Star, with finality, put out a formerly-bright chakra. He slid for a moment before he got his legs under him again, breathing in steaming gouts. “Do you think such a pinprick can stop Slab!? You’ll have to do-” his words drew to an abrupt stop as his body seized up with pain.

“I am sorry, Slab. But I gave you a chance.” She turned to the soldiers behind her, not wishing to see Slab’s death. “From the moment you elected to forfeit it, you were already dead. I suggest you use your last moments to contemplate your sins.”

She heard Slab’s tortured gurgle, the brief, soft noise as his skull ruptured, and then nothing but a wet thud as his eviscerated corpse hit the ground. She saw the fear in the remaining soldiers’ faces. “And what do all of you choose to do with the chance I’ve given?”

There was only a moment’s hesitation. Moving cautiously and slowly around her, the remaining Legion ponies prepared to withdraw. They would be back, of course, but Star intended to be far gone by then. For a moment, she was glad for her own sake that the Legion, and not the Daughters of the Apocalypse, had come to Hope. The Daughters, no matter the odds, fought to the last mare.

Star’s burning white eyes twitched imperceptibly. She felt something off. Several yards in front of her, the air shimmered. The Legion soldiers stopped to watch. A lovely purple unicorn mare appeared. Not only lovely, but, unlike Star, in the full bloom of her beauty. She was clad from head to hoof in a black bodysuit, only her pretty face and sparkling blue eyes visible. She wore a cocksure smile.

“Star Light, is it? I am Cog. Pleased to meet you. Are you familiar with the name Moon Light?” The bottom suddenly dropped out of Star’s heart. “Don’t worry. Your sweet daughter is in the loving care of the Legion Council. I think that, considering this, you can see how it might benefit all of us to become good friends. Otherwise, she might end up… less than fully safe and whole.” The mare bared her sparkling teeth as Star’s ears drooped.

A chorus of unsettling laughter went up from the surrounding Legion soldiers.
Next Time: Oppose the Will of the Goddess!? Luna’s Terrible Army!

Thanks to Damsus Rhee for giving me this idea and to you for reading.