Author's Note

WARNING!

The opening scene of this chapter is one of the reasons this fic has the ‘dark’ tag. If you don’t want to read about a necromancer plying his trade in a way reminiscent of Hannibal Lecter I advise you skip to the first ~~.

However if you do skip the scene you will miss a plot point which is expanded on later in the chapter.

10 Dulce bellum inexpertis

10 Dulce bellum inexpertis

The Grand Warlock Patchcoat was hard at work within his mouldering cathedral. The debris had all been cleared out from the main worship hall, plants had been cut back, stones melted into a single flat glassy surface, and most of a large pentagram centric magic circle was carefully etched into the floor. The blue glow of his magic lit the interior of his hood as Patchcoat carefully scraped and gouged at the floor with a chisel making certain each and every line was perfect. The etching had to be the perfect depth, the right size, every single part had to flow into the next and then at last return to the beginning.

His work was careful and precise, practiced care and also gleeful cruelty were behind his work. His captives wept and screamed as he worked, their laments echoing off the walls like sweet music. Screams had always delighted Patchcoat, from the first rabbit he had accidentally slain to the mare’s shrieks this afternoon as he had prepared her husband’s body to spawn a shade. Each individual act of cruelty brought forth a spark of joy. He had other reasons naturally. Power, fame, and an understanding of death motivated Patchcoat as well, but no where near as much as his own amusement.

“My big brother is going to beat you up!” the colt’s angry shout coincided with the last scratch of Patchcoat’s chisel.

He smiled, “Whose skeleton do you think is holding you. Whose flesh do you think is burning at the tips of my pentagram?” The colt’s eyes grew wide as he shrank with fear and hatred. What a fine little thing you are. So perfect for my needs.

“Please, he’s just a colt…” the lavender mare wept into her tangled mane.

“I am quite aware my dear. I must thank you for raising such a brash colt. It’s almost as if you knew I would been needing just the right sort of blood. If I didn’t need your heart I would honestly let you go for being so kind.” he laughed, slowly walking towards the four remaining captives all of whom were being held down by his skeletal minions.

Patchcoat levitated a knife from within the folds of his robe. It was a simple tool, a triangular blade with a nasty hooked tip, a simple goat horn handle, a combination between a gutting knife and a skinning knife. The hooked blade flashed in the pale light the few scattered torches as Patchcoat gestured to an obsidian slab at the center of the pentagram, “Fifteen, ready the farm hand.”

One of the skeletons holding down a large bright green stallion dragged the struggling earth pony to the slab while he wordlessly shrieked in distorted sounds. Pachcoat’s ears dropped in irritation, “Eleven what have I told you about eating pony tongues? Only after I have used them. I might have needed it you know.”

A half rotted away zombie in the room’s corner moaned in response, “Yes I do know they are quite tasty. Now then, to business. My green friend, You get to help me out with something especially important. Isn’t that grand? You get to make something of your silly little life.”

“Why?” a young female voice asked curiously.

Patch coat turned, frowning as the filly’s question, “It’s rude to interrupt your elders.”

“But why are you doing this?”

“To create a very special minion, or rather recreate. Lost him as a zombie don't you know. But that’s the nice thing about zombies you can reanimate them again as a skeleton, and then a wraith, possibly a shade after that if there is enough soul left. You are a curious little thing aren't you? Good.” Patchcoat flipped the knife hook down, “Ten, help hold this meat study.”

“But why do you have to kill us?” the filly asked.

Patchcoat rolled his eyes and weighted for his minion to shuffle over and hold the farmhand study, “I could explain the art of Necromancy to you, but you are going to be dead soon so it hardly matters now does it?” His knife flashed, one quick clean line opening the stallion's abdomen, and one pained scream shaking the very bricks of the ruined cathedral. That should shut her mouth for a-

“But it’s interesting.” she protested.

The filly’s mother gasped in horror, “Strawberry!”

“Well it is! He’s making things alive again.”

Patchcoat smirked, Well, she is a unicorn. Perhaps if her brother is enough- No you blasted fool remember the last time? He returned to his grisly work, vivisecting his victim with clear, precise cuts. With every few cuts the necromancer would fold away some tissue, forming a pattern of dying meat, organs and entrails atop the altar. Pulses of magic shifted parts into a precise arrangement which ended as Patchcoat removed the stallions major arteries, placing them so blood would flow into channels to fill the etched circle and cut out the heart.

“There we are. Twenty-one, Twenty-four, go and fetch me his sarcophagus.” Patchcoat asked.

“Please! Let my children go. I’ll stay here! You can do what you wan-”

“Oh hush, you know they were going to die one day anyways. Besides I need their blood. Unless you have two other foals you have been hiding somewhere you could bring me in oh,” He looked up through a hole in the roof at the moon, “ten minutes.”

The filly wrenched one hoof free from her skeletal captor to point towards the alter, “Why did you make all that stuff into a star shape?”

“My gods! You certainly raised an odd little filly,” Patchcoat laughed, the little thing was amusing at least. “I suppose I have until those blundering oafs fetch his remains… Why not.”

Patchcoat spent the next seven minutes explaining each and every detail he could about the entire process of raising an undead to whom you had bound the body’s original soul and bent to your will. He delighted in the horrified objections and pleas from the filly’s mother, and it amused him when the colt threw up. But the light red and green filly’s morbid curiosity was simply delightful, “So you see once the spells have returned the remains control to the bound soul you cast the final spell which requires the blood of the young to be sprinkled over the corpse so you can retain control. Otherwise you simply performed a resection and allowed the soul to exist in the corpse as if it were a normal body. Entertaining, but not at all useful to a stallion with a desire for say, revenge.”

“Could you make the body all better? So it didn't look dead?” she asked.

“Yes you can. I am a fine example of that.”

“So… I could bring my kitty back?” She asked looking hopeful.

“Yes. If I wasn't going to kill you that is. Ah! There you two are. Set it next to the corpse.” Patchcoat ordered as a pair of zombies carried a large stone sarcophagus into the room.

The minions obeyed their master as best as the slow shambling creatures were able to. The large marble sarcophagus was cracked and it’s color was dulled with age. The lid was carved into the shape of the pony who had been interred within it, a large alicorn stallion with a fierce look on his face, kind eyes, and a scarred body. His horn had been snapped off long ago, and the wings which curved over the lid to cover the body were missing large chunks of the carved feathers, but the beauty and care put into the original carving still shown through.

Patchcoat trotted over to the sarcophagus and gently brushed his hoof over the cravings wings, “Hello Bastion my old friend. No one else will be so perfectly suited to bringing her to me. I wonder if any part of you will recognize her.”

He looked up at the moon and grinned, “Six, bring me the mare.”

~~

Rare and Char lay flat atop the balcony of a crumbling inn a hundred or so yards away from the cathedral. They had decided it would be best if Aurora found out if the Necromancer was there first before starting the diversion. The two had lurked quietly for a full five minutes before Aurora’s voice whispered to them from the street below, “He’s in there… and he’s raising a corpse. I… He slaughtered somepony… You should start soon, he’s probably killing their mother right now.”

Char grit her teeth, a feeling of pure hatred welled up in her heart. She stood up, taking her hat and off and setting it aside. “Rare…”

Rare nodded, “I know.”

“Fire. We kill it, with fire. Also lasers.” Char growled prodding her soundboard with a wingtip to activate it.

Rare’s horn flashed gold as she summoned forth her spell notes. As she referenced her defensive spells Rare contemplated how best to create the planned flame wall. Ok… a flame conjuring over the streets surrounding the cathedral which also forms a wall… This is going to take a lot. I’d better use a potent flame incantation. The words flowed from her lips in a slow and careful cadence of whispers.

“No chant? Come on, we need to strike fear into this asshole.” Char grumbled.

Rare kept up her quiet chanting.

“Fine then, I’ll do something…” Char took a breath, her gold eyes narrowed as she reared up on her hind hooves, gun arm activating with a click and a hum, wings flaring out for balance. Switching her mic on and sliding the volume as high as she could Char bellowed, “I call on the powers that be, reveal the truth within. Awaken the power of w-er fire! Awaken, and slay god!”

Her voice boomed out across the ghost town, accompanied a second later by the angry fwoosh as Rare’s spell took effect, ten foot high walls of gold and green flames leaping from the ground, encircling the cathedral in a massive cul de sac with only the ground in front of their balcony left open.

Aiming her gun arm towards a hole in the Cathedral wall Char screamed, “Taste my lightning fucker!” and fired off a single blazing blue bolt.

~~

Patchcoat lifted the freshly removed heart from the mare’s corpse with his hooves. How delightfully warm. He mused as he set the heart at the center of the ritual circle. He was just about to begin casting the first spell in the set when an impossibly loud voice boomed seemingly from everywhere, “I call on the powers that be, reveal the truth within. Awaken the power of w-er fire! Awaken, and slay god!”

What? Suddenly the distinct sound of potent flames surging to life prompted him to look out a gap in the crumbling wall to see the blazing wall of flame, “What?”

The voice thundered again, “Taste my lightning fucker!” as a thick blue energy bolt slammed into the floor, blasting out a hoof sized hole, narrowing missing his etched circle.

“Minion Twenty-three goo see what that is.” Patch coat ordered, the zombie shuffled off as Patchcoat’s horn pulsed, a blue energy shield springing up to protect the entire circle. Just in time too as a second blue bolt slammed into the shield. Patchcoat closed his eyes and ran through his spell, “It appears I have to cast this in a hurry. Little filly, are you still interested in learning? I may need some help.”

To his amazement she replied, “Yep!”

“Well then, take my knife, slit your brother’s throat and collect the blood in that cup there. If you can fill it up all the way I won’t kill you.” Patchcoat reared up spreading his hooves wide as he began to chant a simple mantra over and over, horn blazing with magic, the aura pulsing to the rhythm of his words, “Aetheris ex oris in mediis tenebris. Quod omnis lux tenebrae, ut moriatur. Avemus animo vestro ridebo. Nigra per manum meam, et mortui resurgent.”

A sudden crash and splintering sound pierced the air. Patchcoat grit his teeth and continued his chant. “Aetheris ex oris in mediis tenebris. Quod omnis lux tenebrae, ut moriatur. Avemus animo vestro ridebo. Nigra per manum meam, et mortui resurgent!”

The colt screamed. Blue tendrils of magic leaked from Patchcoat’s horn and drifted towards the heart at the center of his circle. The filly shouted, “No! Let me go!”

Somepony hissed in pain, “Ah! You horse apple! I’m trying to- AH! Put the bucking knife down!”

“Aetheris ex oris in mediis tenebris. Quod omnis lux tenebrae, ut moriatur. Avemus animo vestro ridebo. Nigra per manum meam, et mortui resurgent!” Patchcoat intoned, screaming the chant as loudly as he could.

“No! I’m not going!” The filly shouted.

This time Patchcoat heard the sound of flesh being sliced, “Garrrh! You- fine! Die then you little psycho!”

Patchcoat could feel his spell nearly complete. The screamed the chant once more, the energy from his spell reached the heart, a brilliant white hot pulse of magic blasted outwards from the heart which began to beat upon the alter, blood flowing from it into the carefully arranged channels of the magic circle. Patchcoat opened his eyes and looked towards the filly.

The colt was gone, the skeleton which had been holding him was broken into several pieces which were attempting to crawl away. The filly held his knife in her magic, fresh blood dripping from the blade. “The bat thing took him!” she informed pleading with her eyes.

As Patchcoat grit his teeth to reply a roaring sound shattered the air. It was music, but played faster than anything Patchcoat had ever heard and from an instrument which shrieked in a metallic tone. Whatever instruments were being used, the pulsing, blood rousing drum beat was most definitely that of a war song. The thundering voice from before could be heard singing the lyrics of what was unmistakably a battle hymn. “By moonlight we ride ten thousands side by side. // With swords drawn held high our whips and armor shine. // Hail to thee our infantry still brave beyond the grave! // All sworn the eternal vow the time to strike is now.”

“Minions! Hold off the attackers!” Patchcoat ordered advancing on the filly eyes narrowing, lips curling, “An army is charging my town, my sorcery is occupied raising a minion and I need the blood of a foal or he just might kill me before the enemy dose.”

The filly gulped, eyes wide with terror. Suddenly she dove for the cup, held one hoof over it and sliced deeply into her own leg, screaming loudly. Trembling, she tottered back and forth for a few moments before toppling over, the cup half full.

Patchcoat looked her over once. She was still breathing, and interestingly enough her green magic was knitting her injury shut. Now that is interesting. “Fine. But only because you remind me of myself. But if this is not enough I will make you pay.”

The sound of fireballs exploding and those blue beams racing through the air filled his ears. My minions have met the enemy. Patchcoat scooped up the cup and moved to the sarcophagus, holding the wooden grail aloft as he began his second spell’s chant.

~~

Aurora limped away from the cathedral as fast as she could. The orange furred cult was tucked into Char’s backpack which Aurora had strapped tightly to her back. The pack was heavy, but she scarcely noticed it as she sprinted away from the town, blood dripping from two light cuts to her right foreleg and one deeper one to her right flank. What in the holy name of Lah’ren was that filly thinking? Are we really that terrifying to them?

Aurora sighed, she knew differently. She had seen it in her face. That filly was afraid of me taking her away from the Necromancer. She had to be insane… I should have gotten her out of there.

The desperation in the filly’s eyes as she slashed frantically at her filled Aurora’s mind. No… She would have killed you Aurora. She probably would have ran back as soon as she could anyways.

The sound of fireballs and the odd ‘bwap’ sound of Char’s energy beam punctuated the music filled air as Aurora ducked into an alleyway off the street she had been running down. She was certain her allies had the undead occupied and she wasn't being followed, but better safe then sorry. Aurora took the opportunity to tap the backpack and hiss “Hey pup, can you hear me?”

A terrified squeak from the bag was her only answer.

“I know it seems like tartarus on Argos right now but don’t worry I’ll get us out of here. I have friends holding them back while we escape.” Aurora soothed, taking a moment to rest her front leg before resuming her sprint.

Char’s music filled the air, something about it made Aurora feel… something. She wasn't sure exactly what it was. No music she had ever heard before made her feel anything. It’s that metallic sounding thing. She realized, It sounds awesome! It’s so… She couldn't put a thought on it, her leg stung too much. Before we part ways I want to hear some more of this. Whatever she used to be their music is awesome.

Aurora wove around the streets, taking a hap hazard rout about the town which took her vaguely in the direction of the road they had come in to town by. The sound of battle and Char’s music slowly faded away. By the time she left the shelter of the buildings and began to move across the parched ground she could barely hear anything at all. Looking over her shoulder Aurora saw nothing following her. She let out a screech, nothing was there besides the buildings as far as she could hear.

“Well little guy we are clear. Now we just got to go meet up with my friends. You will be back home soon.” Aurora promised, creeping towards their meeting place.

~~

Rare stood atop the balcony with Char, her horn blazing with golden light and defensive shields crackled around them both as the two fired into the seemingly endless mass of undead which converged on their balcony. Char’s blaster beams sliced through the zombies and blasted apart the skeletons with ease, but her beams took a bit too long to fire between shots. Her pegasus friend could only take out one at a time effectively. Rare had to make up for this problem with the occasional exploding firebolt.

Between the dozen or so fireballs she had lobbed, the shields, and the firewall, Rare felt herself running dry. I have maybe another dozen left in me, then I will have just enough power to cast the hastening spell. She wanted to let Char know but her harsh, blood hungry music drowned out her words, and Char was in something of a rage, firing into the crowd of zombies as if it were personal.

Rare spotted a group of larger looking zombies come around the left side of the cathedral. A quick fireball sent the undead back to hell as the golden flames seared the flesh from their bones. How is she having fun with this? Rare asked herself, her own eyes wide with terror and adrenaline. Are humans so starved for entertainment that a fight to the death like this is fun for them? I take it back Char. Our lives were very different, but yours was just as hellish as mine.

They fought for a few more minutes. Rare grew more and more hesitant to lob any more fireballs and Char’s enraged glee slowly wore down until she stopped singing, concentrating on firing into the endless mass of undead. The bodies of slain zombies and piles of bones filled the street in front of them forming grotesque heaps and mounds. The smell of rotting meat had long since completely filled the air. Char took a half step back, cutting her music and firing a beam before lowering her gun arm slightly, “Why aren't you tossing fireballs?”

“I don't have much more energy and I will need to cast two speed spells to get us out of here.”

“How many can you do?”

“Four more.”

“Shit… I have no idea if Aurora is clear.”

Rare took a bit of smug satisfaction as Char’s face finally began to take on a twinge of fear. “I’ll let you know when we have to run.”

~~

Within the citadel Patchcoat finished his final chant. The marble sarcophagi was covered in tendrils of his blue magic, a sickly green fog seeped from the crack between the lid and the bottom. With a scraping of stone on stone the lid was pushed aside by a skeletal hoof, tendrils of the mist clung to the bone, dripping off slowly like a bleeding wound. A low hissing gasp echoed from the confines of the stone container before the lid was flung off, the skeleton of a large alicon stallion, dressed in tarnished though surprisingly well preserved battle armor surged towards Patchcoat hooves outstretched, armor clanking, green cloak billowing from the violent motion.

A blast of the warlock’s magic forced the creature back, with one swift gesture Patchcoat tossed the chalice of blood onto the freshly born ghast’s skull. Each drop of blood flashed into an emerald green flame, the creature screamed an unearthly cry of hatred. Patchcoat grinned, “Do as I command, slay the forces attacking my cathedral.”

The ghast hissed, tendrils of the green mist drifting from it’s maw, “Your hold on me is weak, I obey you for now but soon I will have your head warlock.” Before Patchcoat could reply the ghast leaped into the air, wings extending as it glided from the cathedral. It’s green cloak shimmering as it rippled behind it.

“Minions, fall back and defend the cathedral.” Patchcoat ordered smugly. “Ah Bastion, it’s so fun to break you each time I revive you.”

~~

Rare was down to her last two fireballs and the waves of undead were still thick as ever. “How in tartarus can he animate this many?”

“Years of study, and this is probably his home. It’s a big church, he could have just filled the crypts with skeletons and zombies.” Char noted.

Rare was about to reply when a terrifying creature flew from the cathedral and hovered perfectly still in the air above them. It was clearly the skeleton of an Alicorn, a sickly green mist clinging to it’s bones forming the vaguest of flesh shapes. It’s eyes burned with an emerald fire which trailed a black haze like smoke. It’s horn crackled with sparks of gold magic. The creature was hard to look at, as if a thin film covered the area in front of it, making you want to look away “Gods help us.” Rare gasped. It can cast magic!

“Ohhhh fuck that thing looks-” Char’s words were cut off as a brilliant golden energy ray blasted from the ghast’s horn, annihilating the balcony the two had been standing on in a flash of fire and an explosion of wood and stone. Their shields shattered instantly from the blast, unable to do more then take that single shot. The two mares fell atop the rubble of the building. The ghast let out a bone chilling scream and dived down, it’s horn sparking again as it prepared another shot.

“Run!” Char shrieked in a blind panic jumping up, instantly tripping on the loose rubble. Rare was already sprinting away from the cathedral.

Char scrabbled to her hooves, taking off at a rapid gallop as the ghast’s second energy beam slammed into the rubble, stone melting under the spell’s searing heat. She sprinted after Rare, catching up through sheer willpower. The two mares looked frantically around for any place to run where they might lose the creature only for it to swoop overhead, a golden beam blasting a crater out of the street ahead of them.

Shards of rock flew in all directions, some cutting jagged lines across Char’s side, others pinging off of Rare’s armor. Thank you helmet! I love you! Rare frantically thought as she heard and felt a large piece of rock ping off the bronze over her forehead.

Screaming the two turned left onto another street. The house to their left exploded in a ball of fire. They ran through a weed infested garden cutting across the gaps between two buildings. The ghast’s brilliant gold ray burned along just at their hooves for a few seconds. It's playing with us. Rare realized.

Char reached the same conclusion, “It’s playing with us.” she gasped.

The ghast soared overhead, turning and scorching the ground in front of them, forcing them to wheel about and run they way they had came over the still glowing ashes of the garden. The door to the building on their right was missing, Rare dashed inside Char right on her tail. The two mares fled through the decaying store, jumping through a broken window into the street just as the building collapsed as the ghast’s blazing magic crushed the building to dust.

Char and Rare sprinted down the street only to skid to a stop, recognizing their error too late. The road ended at a flat brick wall, still quite intact. There were no doors or windows on the street sides of the building on other side. This was an alleyway and it was a dead end.

Char gulped and turned to Rare, “It was nice to have known you.”

Rare nodded, panting heavily, “At least we are going to die freeponies.”

Char turned around, rearing up and activating her gun arm, “Let’s at least give it a black eye.”

Rare turned in time to see the ghast simply swat Char aside, sending her crashing into a wall. The Pegasus slowly pushed herself up groaning in pain.

The ghast advanced on Rare, horn crackling, jaws open wide, the green mist leaking out in tendrils, eyes blazing emerald flames. It lowered it’s horn, spell energy crackling along the length. Rare closed her eyes, wincing as she waited for it to cast the spell. But no blast of deadly light bore her into the underworld.

“Your eyes…” the ghast moaned, it’s voice sounding fragmented, almost confused.

Rare opened her left eye, the ghast had dismissed it’s magic. It stood frozen in place, ready to cast the spell, but the energy gone. Rare opened her other eye, confused, and fearing what this creature might have in store for her. Oh gods does this thing eat ponies alive?

Out of the corner of her eye Rare saw Char level her gun arm and fire. The blue beam struck the ghast in it’s side, harmlessly dispersing off of the thick mist. “Your eyes are…” The ghast moaned.

Rare took a step back, maybe she could run around while it was confused.

“Your eyes are hers.” The ghast’s voice completely changed as it said the word ‘hers’. The voice was clear, sad, tormented, but held no sense of malice in them.

“Um…” Rare kept slowly scooting back to dart around the creature.

Suddenly the ghast’s horn glowed with a full aura, Rare screamed as she was lifted off the ground by it’s magic. Her helmet, cloak, bags, and armor were quickly stripped from her and tossed aside. The ghast pulled her close, it’s blazing eyes seeming to focus on her shoulders. Rare felt a sensation as if ice water was being poured on her as the thing touched her with one hoof. Suddenly the ghast cried out a wordless mournful lament.

Char fired off another two beams, each harmlessly diffusing away. “Oh god Rare I’m sorry!” Char called, her gold eyes slowly filling with tears.

“He tore off your wings.” The ghast bemoaned pulling Rare in close and wrapping it’s forelegs around her in a hug, “My sister… I can not refuse the warlock for long…”

Rare’s mismatched eyes widened “W-what?”

“You would not remember me Rare. You were but two weeks old. I was Bastion, your brother. The warlock who commands me in death… I…” The ghast shuddered, dropping Rare as it’s magic faltered.

Rare sprinted as far back as she could stopping only when her curiosity got the best of her, “How… what?”

“No! Do not stop. Run! Run far from these lands! He killed our family, gave our empire to another, and commands us now even in death. Flee this place Rare. Do not seek to avenge us, he is too powerful. Death itself has no hold on the warlock.” the ghast reached for the clasp of it’s cloak, taking the astonishingly intact garment off and throwing to to Rare with a pulse of magic, “Take my cloak. Our mother made it. It will help pro…”

The gast fell to it’s knees, the mist within it’s bones starting to glow an otherworldly green as the creature who was once Bastion screamed in rage, and agony. The magical chains around it’s soul tightening once more.

Rare didn’t even realize she had begun to run. Without thinking she had scooped up her saddlebags, helmet, cloak, and the cloak thrown at her in her magic as a complete panic reaction and sprinted half way down the street past the ghast. Char was at her side rapidly babbling, “Go-go-go-go-go-go-go!”

The two mares moved at the speed of pure terror, taking the straightest route they could find out of the maze of streets and buildings. They blew out of the buildings, by some miracle of fate being on the road which would lead them to the boulders where hopefully Aurora was. The wrathful scream of the ghast echoed from right above them.

Char’s eyes widened in terror, then gleamed with hope, “The cloak!”

The quickly grabbed the cloak from Rare’s magical grip and stopped, Rare skidding to a halt, “What are you-”

“Get under it! It said it was magic!”

Screw it, it’s just going to chase us down anyways… Rare dove under the cloak as Char pulled it down over herself, silver threads making up a vine embroidery shimmering as the fabric moved.

The ghast’s enraged screeches rang in their ears, they heard, felt, and smelled many deadly spells slam into the ground around the over the span of a few minutes. After what seemed like an eternity the barrage of magic wore off and Char dared to whisper, “Called it. Magic safety cloak. Or hiding cloak. Or something.”

Rare whispered back, “Did you really know this would work?”

Char shook her head and gave a feeble laugh, “Heh heh… no… I just couldn't run anymore and well I think that thing said it was magic soo…”

“Well it worked… Let’s just stay under this and crawl up the road to the boulders.”

“Sounds great. Then let’s never ever do anything like this again.”

“Wasn’t at all fun was it?”

Char sighed, “Only for the first few minutes.”

The two mares carefully bundled everything up in Rare’s legion cloak, then began to slowly inch their way along the side of the road heading for the boulders and hopefully a safe place to sleep for a week.

~~

Normally Aurora had no problem being awake for days at a time. She had fully expected to simply stay awake all through the night and possibly for the next two days, but well she had already been up for a week and a half, and had been pretty active for most of it, and then there was the strain of carrying a colt on her back who apparently gained a pound or two with every hoof step she took. By the time Aurora reached the boulder formation where she was to meet the others she was bone tired.

Finding a safe, sheltered gap in the rock which was almost but not quite a cave, more of a pony sized hole, Aurora slipped inside, slid the pack off, opened it, noticed the colt was asleep, grunted happily then passed out face against her hooves. Her nearly silent snores were lost to the breeze as she fall into sleep, and entered the realm of dreams.

She was running as fast as her hooves could carry her. Her wings flapping to get her off the ground but something kept her planted firmly to the grassy ground. Behind her was an entire wall of legionnaires, shields raised, swords brandished. As she looked back skeletons tore their way from the earth and joined their ranks, advancing at her arms outstretched. She turned to run, heart pounding in her chest. The sky before her shimmered and morphed into the necromancer, wicked hooked knife raised and that loving smile on his lips.

Aurora curled up into a ball, screaming, hooves covering her eyes, wings wrapping around her head and shoulders in a feeble attempt to ward off the knife.

“It’s ok little one. I have banished these specters from your dreams.” A kindly female voice soothed.

Aurora cautiously opened one eye, peeking out from behind her wing. All she could see was a shimmering blue black star filled… mane?

“You must have touched some especially foul magic for me to feel your nightmares. You are so far away from home. Why did you leave Equestria?” the voice asked again.

Aurora blinked and moved her wings out of the way, gasping as she saw a blue coated mare a slender horn adoring her head, and two graceful wings at her sides. Her mane and tail appeared to be made from the night sky, and her eyes were as blue as the narrow band of sky right at the end of sunset. Aurora sputtered, quickly getting to her hooves and dipping her head in a bow, “Wah-I-holy-um-er, that is- Night Goddess, I am unworthy.”

She blinked, “Night Goddess? It’s been a very long time since anypony called me a goddess.” She gave Aurora a kind smile, “Call me Luna. Princess Luna if you must keep to tradition.”

Aurora didn’t quite know how to respond to that, “Goddess Luna, why do you speak to me? Who am I to you?”

“You bat-pony, are somepony who appreciates and loves my night. You are more of my subjects they any other type of pony under the moon. I care for you all, so when I hear the nightmares of somepony screaming from beyond Equestria itself I simply have to see what has befouled them.” Luna frowned slightly, “Are you not from my kingdom? Are there still Bat-ponies outside of Equestria? I called all of your kin to my lands.”

Aurora felt her jaw drop, “I...we… we thought you meant… The elders told us Equestria was our afterlife.”

Luna sat down, looking at Aurora sadly, “I have been gone for a millennia… I offered sanctuary to your people a few months before I was banished to the moon. When I returned a thriving village of bat-ponies lay within my kingdom. I never thought… I am sorry.”

Gods can make mistakes? Aurora felt her mind break a little bit at that realization.

“I’m no god. I am ageless, and I move the moon through the sky, and I can walk among ponies dreams, but I am just a pony like you. If your people will listen to you please get them to come home. I can only imagine the cruelty life has inflicted upon you.”

Luna slowly faded away leaving Aurora alone in a comforting starscape. She’s real… and so is the land she promised us! Aurora laughed, Who knew it could feel so good to be wrong! We can all leave here for a paradise!

The starscape cradled Aurora as she rested in a bed made from her namesake, the green ribbons of energy holding her like a hammock made from a quilt. Aurora’s pleasant dreams lasted until the morning. She awoke to a poking sensation in her shoulder. She swatted at it feebly a few times until her eyes slowly peeled open, and looked directly into a pair of mismatched green and brown eyes.

“Ah!” Aurora jumped up smacking her head into the stone above her, “Ow.”

Rare winced, “Sorry… all night… crawling… sleepy…”

Char’s voice from out of view added, “Realy big magic beam firing skeleton thing. It’s gone now… kid is still asleep… night.”

A few soft snores reached Aurora’s ears, her echolocation showing Char to have fallen asleep atop a rather pointy rock. Rare nodded at her. “Yes. That. Is it safe?”

Aurora nodded.

“Good. I bed now.” Rare informed before slumping over and falling almost instantly asleep.

Aurora sighed. Lucky. I wish I could just turn off like that. Aurora’s eyes widened as she remembered her dream from the previous night. “You two know how to get to Equestria!”

She squirmed out of the stone depressions he had slept in, stretched and trotted off towards the forest. I guess I need to make friends with them. A nice meal when they wake up should help. There has to be some lemongrass or fruit trees near here somewhere.