Several Months Earlier

Yira screamed into closed hands as she watched Damien drive his blade straight into his heart, the life draining from his body. As he slowly began to collapse onto the ground a white mist seemed to form around him. Both her and Chrysalis watched in shock as he seemed to fade in the shimmering particles, until a wind swept all of it away into the sky. Yira was breathing fast and looked to Chrysalis for help, who was still watching the spot Damien just was. She looked back to Yira and placed an arm on her shoulder. “Let us get inside. He told us to head for the bonfire. Hopefully answers await us there.” Yira nodded and leaned close to her mother as she struggled not to panic, the both of them quickly making their way into the hive.

The rest of workers paid them little mind besides bowing to their queen as the two of them quickly navigate their way deep into the bowels of the hive back to the tunnel Damien arrived from. Yira still couldn’t shake the image from her mind of Damien’s arm flying, and then him burning that demon to ash. The rage she felt pouring out of him, it was so infectious. What kind of world could he possibly come from, and how did he survive? As she and Chrysalis were walking they stopped as a sort of haze passed over them, before they both continued unbothered. As they reached the end of the tunnel and looked towards the bonfire, they both wore faces of surprise and relief at seeing Damien kneeling by the fire, his hand outstretched to the flames. They watched as embers encompassed his form and seem to lift a black fog off of him, a small sigh breathing out as he slowly sat back down. Chrysalis moved out of the way as Yira burst past her, rushing over and wrapping her arms around Damien. His body straightened up in shock as he heard her crying into his shoulder. He looked towards Chrysalis in surprise (and although she couldn't see his face, she could still sense his emotions.) as she sauntered her way over, watching him curiously. “She does get a bit more emotional than some of the other changelings.”

Damien nodded and looked at Yira, who stood up and looked at him with her large emerald eyes, tears still running down her obsidian cheeks. She sniffed and smacked his helmet gently as she huffed. “Why in the world would you do that!?” She yelled as she went to hit him again, but he caught her wrist in both hands. She blinked and watched as he slowly stood up, gently letting her arms go.

“Well, I now have my arm back, so that is a plus.” Damien said, showing her his arm, armor and gloves still on. She watched a little perturbed at it before taking it and examining it gently.

“Huh...how…” Yira said curiously, and Chrysalis examined his hand as well. Damien let them as he looked towards his Maiden, sleeping in the corner.

“I cannot die. Permanently at least.” They both looked at him, Chrysalis in slight horror and Yira in confusion.

“You can’t die permanently? What do you mean?” Yira asked in slow realization as she looked to Chrysalis, who slowly placed her hand on Yira’s shoulder.

“We changelings live for a long time Yira. Especially those of us with queenly blood. Alicorns as well, and even the dragons, can live for centuries. What we have witnessed here however...Damien will never have peace.”Yira’s eyes widened in horror as they both turned to look at Damien, who had made his way to his Maiden and began to give her more humanity to ease her pain. “Damien has most likely died more times then we can count. He might have lived for just as long as the ponies Princesses, or longer. But he will never truly be able to rest. He will always be brought back.” Yira swallowed and watched as Damien slowly brushed his hands over his Maiden’s, speaking soothing words to her.

“That sounds...terrifying…” said Yira.

“It is.” Said Damien as he made his way back. He was slowly sliding his Bottomless Box away, and double checking all his equipment. "Whenever I do die, I come back at the last bonfire I rested. Everything back in its proper place."He took a look at his blades and the rips in his armor and huffed before sitting down. The two of them watched as he pulled out a white orb from inside his coat. It was about the size of a small rock, with white wisps gently rising off it. Damien crushed it in his hand and they heard a quick intake of breath as the white rushed into his body, his breathing quickening for a split second. He reached back into his coat and pulled out a different smaller and open box, where inside was a grindstone, a small leather pouch, and some wooden sticks.

The two watched as he laid down his Fury Sword, running the blade across the wheel. The white mist from the orb began to flow out from his hand across his weapon. At the same time, some of the flames from the bonfire began to gently wave in his direction. He secured the blade in place with its edge along the grindstone as the white mist began to form around the nicks and dull edges of the blade. Damien reached a hand inside the leather pouch and pulled out some fine golden powder. He began to turn the grindstone at the same time as he began to sprinkle the powder over the edge. “I lost track of the time I have lived before I even left the Asylum they kept me in. I no longer know how old I am, what family has died, or who might’ve cared about me. Or the other way around.” The two were them were silent as they watched him grind the powder into the blade, the white mist fading as he pulled his sword away, good as new. He then began the same process with his scythe. “The gods tried to give me a purpose. To restore the Light to prolong the time before the age of Dark. They tried to use me as there pawn.” They both listened intently as he finished up with his scythe, slowly bringing the grindstone to a stop but not putting it away. He sat watching the embers of the fire as his hand gripped the hilt tightly. “I had had enough. I cared not for my supposed ‘fate’, or the gods. All I cared about...was her.” He looked towards his Maiden as she breathed slowly, her pale hands still in a constant prayer as her spider body remained limp and gray. “She is my responsibility now. I may live on for many more thousands of years, but I will not stop till she has peace.” He quickly snapped his scythe to his back and pocketed the box, rising to his feet. “Even if I die till my mind breaks from the pain, I shall always push onward.” He turned to the two of them and saw the tears in Yira’s eyes, the hollow understanding in Chrysalis’. “For now however, we need to focus on fixing your world. Finding out whatever is causing this.” They both nodded and began to leave the cave in silence, Damien casting a glance over his shoulder towards Her, before following after them.

Current Day

Yira slowly rose up in the cot and stretched her arms, yawning as a soft crackling sound emanated from her wings unfolding . She looked over at Damien slumped over in the corner, breathing slowly with his head bent inwards and his arm on his knee. After they had joined him in the Tunnel, they went back up to Chrysalis’ quarters to discuss future events. Damien was curious about the rest of the world, so of course Chrysalis informed him about whatever she thought relevant. The Ponies, The Dragons, The Griffons, and The Minotaurs as the other most prominent species on their continent. Upon learning more about the changeling’s position in The Badlands, he decided what to do next. He was given directions and began making his way towards the closest pony civilization, and she was sent along with him as an envoy. Also as a way for Chrysalis to see the outside world through her eyes. Yira sighed and slowly pulled herself out of the cot, gingerly and stealthily making her way over to Damien. She crouched down towards his level as she watched him sleep, eyeing the slits in his helm. It had taken them a few weeks to leave The Badlands on foot, mainly because Yira wasn’t used to flying in her new body, nor was she that strong. Damien didn’t need to eat anymore apparently, and Yira fed off the emotions he gave off when they talked, although a little malnourished from the lack of love. When they finally reached the edge of the Badlands, the few villages and camps they discovered were completely deserted, only a few mindless Hollows left. While raising questions, Damien thought it best to avoid them and search for more likely locations for survivors to be at.

Yira crossed her arms and closed her eyes as she thought back on it, rocking on her hooves. They had decided to follow the Railroad once they found it, and Yira explained the form of transportation. They followed it for a while and finally came to the city of Manehattan, where they heard the bell ringing. Then they went into the city and everything else happened. Yira nodded her head a few times before she began to channel her magic, her horn becoming enveloped in a green glow. She sent out a telepathic wave that surged outwards, before it connected with a ‘hook’ from one of the Changelings in the hive. Specifically one of the Receivers, changelings who’s job is to be ready for transmissions from any outside soldiers at every and any time of the day. She quickly sent all the reviewed and new information down the connection, ending with a message to transmit it directly to the Queen. Once she finished transmitting the connection broke and she breathed out in relief, before she felt a small prodding at her forehead. She opened her eyes and looked up to see Damien awake and watching her, gently tapping her forehead with a gloved finger. She sat up a little straighter and smiled wide. “Good morning Damien!” She let herself sample his emotions this morning to see how he was. ‘A little agitation, a little forbearance towards the pony group outside, and…’

Damien watched as Yira finally snapped out of her trance and looked up at him. He continued to watch as she wished him a good morning and got a sample of his emotions like she did every day, knowing exactly what was going to happen next. Pretty soon the blush grew on her face and she quickly turned away and dove under the closest cover she could find, this time being the covers on the cot. He sighed and stood up, popping his back as he did. It wasn’t really his fault she always forgot to put her damn robes back on. He made his way over and reached down to scoop said robes up before throwing them on top of Yira, who yelped slightly before peeking out. “Put those on. I won’t look. Like usual.” He turned away after seeing her nod and listened for the next minute as she struggled a little with slipping the white cloths over her limbs. Eventually the noise stopped and he turned around to see her fully dressed and hood off, looking awkwardly at her feet in embarrassment. He made his way forward again and poked her in the forehead gently.

“Hey…” She looked up at him in mock pain, smiling just a little at the friendly gesture.

“What? You were taking too long. We are still continuing your pyromancy training, aren’t we?” Damien asked as he crosses his arms, to which she swiftly took a more proper and polite pose and nodded. “Good. Then try to harness the flame again.” He said as he slowly backed up to make a little space. Yira nodded and closed her eyes as she began to concentrate and channel magic to her horn. He watched as the green magic, which was originally more bubble and fluid like in nature, began to waver and flicker, taking a more flame like shape. As she concentrated the tip of her horn began to spark, before a small flame began to build. As she finally opened up her eyes to watch the flame the surprise of her success caused the magic to surge and explode in her face, sending her reeling back onto the cot. Damien couldn’t help but chuckle a little, which sounded a bit hoarse considering he hadn’t let out so much as a laugh in many years. Yira burst up out of the cot and lightly hit his shoulder as he glared.

“Hey! Don’t laugh!” He smirked under his helm and gently patted her shoulder.

“You are making decent progress. Just never forget.” He bent down a little to her height and held up his own hand, where he made a small flame waver gently. “Pyromancy is the art of casting fire. To produce it, channel it, a pyromancer must be in tune with nature themself.” Damien leaned back up and began to make his flame bend and weave slowly. “Pyromancy is the ultimate fantasy. We are born into Dark, and warmed by Fire, but this Fire we cannot touch. Those whose fascination with fire persists, learn to hold it in their hand.” He smiled bittersweetly under his helm as he recalled his first teacher, before snuffing out his flame. He looked back to Yira who was watching him intently. He poked her forehead again. “You’ll get the hang of it someday. Don’t rush it. Or else you’ll explode again.” She huffed at that and rubbed her face with her sleeve.

As Damien began double checking everything he had and Yira swung her legs on the bed, a small three-beat knock sounded on the door to the room. They both looked to each other before Damien quickly walked forward, gesturing Yira to get behind him. As she did he slowly placed left hand on the hilt of his blade while the other slowly unlatched the door. He gently tugged it open just a crack, looking out at a nervous mare in more ragged clothes. He looked her up and down, noting the tray carrying stale bread and two cups of water in her hands. “I-I have your b-breakfast sir…” She mumbled in trepidation as she looked up at the ominous sight of his steel helmet glinting in the sunrise. He slowly pulled open the door more and beckoned her inside, other ponies watching as she hesitantly stepped in, before the door shut behind her.

After around 30 minutes, and several of the ponies began to grow worried, they watched as the door opened again. The same mare came stumbling out, but it was different. Instead of the rags she had on before, she was wearing a proper tunic and leggings, and was smiling a little softly. Equinox, who had been watching over the door and everyone else, looked past the door to see Damien kneeling on the ground next to a wooden box. The mare made her way back to her friends and began to whisper as Yira poked her head out of the room. “Anyone in need of new garments, please form a neat and orderly line! First come first served!” All the ponies around the room began to talk and whisper to each other, before a young colt stood up, supporting what one would assume is his grandmother. They both made their way up to Yira and entered the room, before the door shut again.

After another 30-ish minutes, the door opened again. Everyone turned their heads to look at the door, as the young colt and his grandmother made their way out of the room. Both were smiling and chatting quietly in fresh and repaired clothes, although the young colt now had a broadsword attached at his hip. Yira poked her head out again, hood down and smiling as she watched the two walk away before looking to the crowd. “Next! Also, for anyone wishing to arm themselves with a proper weapon, something can be arranged!” She slipped back into the room as several more got up, noticeably some of them being able bodied stallions. They all made their way to the door and formed a line to see the Changeling and the Stranger. Equinox stood up and began watching the proceedings.

The rest of that day was spent in this fashion, the line growing larger and larger until everyone in the Chapel decided they wanted to see how this was all happening. The only pause in the proceedings was when two ponies were fighting for who should go first. A great bout of fire erupted from the door, before the looked to see Damien looking straight at them, a fireball in his hand. They swallowed and peacefully got back in line, and things proceeded as normal. At the very least, the ponies would leave with their current rags repaired and formed into tunics and leggings, enough to keep them warm. Some walked out with simple swords, daggers, or spears, usually with a loved one in tow. Then those serious about fighting were outfitted with bits of armor, like simple metal helmets or gauntlets. They were given finer weapons to use, usually dependent on their race. One Earth Pony had a large axe on his shoulders. Another had a large crossbow in his hand and some bolts to fire. A few Pegasi were given leather instead of metal armor, since it was lighter. Two had some sharper and deadlier looking daggers, while one had a longbow. Finally the Unicorns who had asked for gear were given some more fine robes, as well as wooden staffs of specific make. Once they left they found one of the open windows and began concentrating, focusing their magic from their hands to the wooden poles. Finally everyone had been serviced except for Equinox, who had been watching the proceedings cautiously. As the last pony left with a respectful bow, Yira poked her head out the door, looking at everyone. Finally her gaze landed on Equinox and she smiled sweetly. “You look like the last one. Ready?” He began to make his way over, not returning the smile. Hers faltered a little and she chuckled awkwardly as she made way for him, letting him inside. As the door shut behind him Equinox looked at Damien, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor with two boxes on either side of him. One had the grindstone, the other a bottomless black void. He gestured for him to sit as Yira made her way onto the bed. Equinox made his way across from Damien to a spot where he could see both of them, then sat in the same position as Damien. The Stranger spoke words he couldn’t understand, and Equinox’s eyes flicked his eyes to Yira as she translated. “What would you like? Repairs or replacements?” Equinox was silent before he looked back to Damien.

“...Why are you doing this?” Damien didn’t show any response to the question, except to look at Yira. She herself looked a little confused, before translating to him. [She will be doing this for this whole conversation, so don’t forget that!] Equinox watched them, before Yira turned back to Equinox.

“He says: What is wrong with what we are doing?” Damien had turned back to Equinox, who could feel his eyes analyzing him from underneath the steel helm.

“Nothing. It is actually quite helpful. This help from a complete stranger, however, is not something that just happens. We don’t know who you are, what you want to accomplish, or even what you look like. So, once again; Why are you doing this?” Said Equinox as he gazed right back towards Damien. Yira swallowed nervously and looked between them. Damien was silent for a while, until he spoke.

“How many of your friends have died?” The question caught both Yira and Equinox off guard, and his suspicion of Damien quickly began to grow.

“What do you mean by that?” He asked with a little rise in his voice. Yira began to scoot just a little towards Damien, who hadn’t budged from his spot. He began speaking, and for a few seconds Yira forgot to translate from shock, before she remembered and quickly stuttered it out as he continued to speak.

“A-all of mine. Every single one. Some from beasts, and demons. Some by the hands of their loved ones. Some by accident. Some by my own two hands, as an act of self defense. Others so I could give them peace. The fact remains, however, that each and every one of them has passed, either by time or by sword. I once tried to avoid them all completely. To shut myself off from all others and focus on my duty. That itself quickly began to hurt more from the loneliness in this hell of a world then their passing ever could, for I would find their dead bodies lying in pools of blood eventually. All I would be able to think, is that I never even learned their name, their goals, or their personalities. So I made a vow. To not shut myself off. To learn of others, and be learned of in turn, so my examples could help even those beyond my reach. To help where help was needed, because they wouldn’t stand a chance otherwise. Now, I ask of you again...Repair or Replace?” Yira slowly finished off her translation as they all sat in silence, Damien still not having moved from his spot. Equinox watched him for a little while longer, before sighing heavily.

“By Celestia, a simple ‘I want to help people’ would have sufficed. You didn’t need to drop that heavy weight on my back.” Yira smiled softly and translated to Damien, who simply nodded. Equinox looked down at his shambled remains of his royal guard armor, before sighing and beginning to pull it off. “While this armor does mean a lot to me, it is useless as it is. So I suppose Replace.” He finished tugging off his armor and sat in only his own rugged scraps, handing the pieces to Damien. Yira translated to Damien who nodded and gathered the scraps, before tossing them into his box. Equinox watched in puzzlement as the scraps simply disappeared into the black void, before Damien beckoned for the ragged clothes Equinox has draped himself in. He simply raised an eyebrow before pulling them off as well and handing them over. Yira blushed a little and looked away shyly, keeping her eyes focused on her hands as Damien went to work. He first repaired the cloths into a proper light tunic and leggings, before handing them back to Equinox. He nodded and slipped into them, sighing in comfort as Damien then began to reach into the box. His surprise was a little less but still prominent this time as Damien reached deeper into the box, to the point his arm should be through the floor. Eventually Damien pulled out a set of metal armor and laid it out for Equinox to view. Silencing his baffled words, they spent the next several minutes teaching Equinox how to put on and off the armor, until he eventually stood up fully geared.

(Equinox is going helmet-less.)

“What about your blade?” Yira translated as Damien indicated his Claymore, which was showing signs of wear on its edge. Equinox hefted it in his hand before passing it to Damien with the request of Repair. It didn’t take long before he was finished, and Equinox reclaimed his now good as new claymore and slid it into the sheath on his back. All set, Equinox offered them both a polite bow and went to leave, but stop as he noticed the uneaten bread from that morning.

“Are you two not hungry?” He asked Yira, who looked at the bread and flushed a little in embarrassment.

“O-oh it's not that! We are very grateful! It’s more that…” She paused and gestured to herself then Damien. “I’m a Changeling. While I could try to eat, it doesn’t really do anything for me like emotions do, and Damien is kind enough to let me feed off his. He doesn’t actually need to eat so...yeah…” Equinox looked between them interestingly, then grabbed the tray from where they set it, as well as the cups.

“I will let them know. I do believe everyone will be turning in tonight a lot happier Thank you for everything.” He offered a polite smile and took his leave. After a few seconds Yira finally sighed in exhaustion as she collapsed onto the cot. Damien began putting away his boxes as she stretched out and looked at him.

“That was exhausting. Having to read all of their emotions the whole time to know their intentions? I’m going to need to sleep in tomorrow.” Damien watched her nuzzle into the cot, chuckling just a little as he took up his spot in the corner. As he lowered his head he heard her taking off her robes and folding them neatly. “Psst… Damien?”

“Hmm?”

“You know...the floor is really uncomfortable...you could...join me up here, even if it is small…” Damien didn’t need to be able to read emotions to know what she was really thinking.

“I am fine Yira. I am quite comfortable here, and it lets me be ready for anything that might require immediate action. Goodnight, and sleep well.” He didn’t ever look up from the corner, but he could imagine Yira’s face pouting as she turned over in her cot before falling asleep. Truthfully Damien barely slept during the nights, instead just keeping senses open for anything that might happen. Except for this night, he actually was lulled into a state of slumber. Something he would regret letting himself do the coming morning.

Author's Note

Another chapter cranked out! Unfortunately no fight scene this time, as character interactions unfortunately took priority. Hopefully you all still enjoy! (Those of you who are still reading.) Again, any and all comments are appreciated!