We Are Born From The Mist

Chapters

I
II
III
IV
V
VI
VII
VIII
IX
X
XI
XII
XIII
XIV
XV
XVI
XVII
XVIII
XIX
XX
i

I

The storm howled like a wild beast, buffeting the small winged shape as the unforgiving wind tossed it back and forth, threatening to slam it down to the jagged, rocky peaks that loomed below.

It’s mouth opened in a yell, but the ravenous gusts snatched away the words before she herself could hear them. Gritting her teeth, she kept flapping furiously, forcing herself against nature’s wrath, until finally, she was beaten. She furled her wings and dropped like a stone between the mountain peaks, only catching herself a few feet from the ground in a sheer, jagged pass.

There was little room for the wind between the cliffs, and the mare felt herself shivering. Though she was long used to the cold, that said nothing of enjoyment; she still found herself despising it as much as any other pony might.

Following the narrow pass, she eventually emerged onto a broad plateau, nearly thrown off of her feet by the wind tearing at her exposed sides.

As she had for so many days before, she squinted towards the northern horizon, but nothing could be seen past the immense wall of threatening storm clouds that blotted out the sun and moon alike. The storm had emerged suddenly.

She had gone from clear flying above the Northern Mountains to the raw, rampaging forces of nature in only a few minutes. As much as she tried, the storm was far too heavy to fly in, and only the weight of her worn armor and the rusted spear mounted to her back kept her rooted to the stones beneath her hooves.

The lightning crackling through the sky above her cast the dim mountains into flaring white light and the rolling of the thunder boomed around her, bouncing around the mountains and setting her teeth on edge.

In the distance, a curtain of fierce, heavy rain swept across the sky, drawing closer with every second.

Sighing fatalistically and accepting that she would be getting very wet and very cold, she stood and let the downpour hammer against her body. Shivering, she stood for a moment, then continued trudging onwards. With fortune, she would find some sort of a cave or shelter from the furious weather. Her luck held that day.

As she reached the opposite edge of the plateau, the mountain reared ahead of her, the peak puncturing the clouds thousands of feet above. Nestled in the massive chunk of jagged stones was a small cave that slanted gently downwards.

She plunged in without a second thought. It was far too cold to be exposed in the open. Some sort of warm draft seemed to float upwards from the depths, but she was content to stay in the main chamber of the cave.

Out of her saddlebags she drew a thick blanket and, removing her saddlebags and cold, wet armor, unslung her spear and draped the cover around herself as she watched the rains pound the plateau.

What little of her midnight-blue fur was left showing was plastered to her skin by the rain, its insulating effects long gone. Her mane, though usually a light ash-grey, was far darker than usual; it hung around her withers, loose, without any form of tie.

Reaching back from her saddlebags, she withdrew a piece of yellowed paper, which she unfolded carefully upon a patch of dry stone. Uncovering the magical candle that she carried, the flame burst to life with a cool blue light, illuminating the sheet.

Upon it was a simple map, dominated by an oblong space labeled Equestria in messy, sprawling script. Her hoof traced a line up, past the boundaries of the fledgling kingdom, into the many leagues that stretched beyond. Some were labeled—Gryphica, Hippocampa, The Draconequus Triumvirate—but much of it was completely unmapped and unexplored. A tight-lipped smile came to her face as she softly tapped a point a few inches to the north of Equestria, in a chain of mountains labeled as the Sleipnir Range.

“I suppose that’s where I am.” She muttered to herself. “The last time I saw the Nimbus Ring, it was headed directly north. If it keeps moving, and there’s no real reason for it to stop, then it’ll come in direct contact with the Barren Sea.”

Her face scrunched up thoughtfully. “Why the Barren Sea? You can fly the Ring anywhere; it’s the perfect cloud fortress.” Staring intently at the map, she once again tapped it, this time a few more inches to the north. “She could’ve stopped it in Gryphica. They’re a lot like the old pegasi, after all. In fact, that place is the most likely.”

Confident in her conclusion, she shoved the map aside, settling down for a rest. Storm flying was tiring business, and she needed to be rested tomorrow to fly as fast as possible. Breathing deeply, she gradually melted down into the velvet embrace of sleep, enchanted candle still burning in endless flame.

Sometime during the night, the rain stopped and the wind no longer blew quite as hard. As Hurricane slept, the night took on an eerie stillness.

Silence pervaded everything, and though it was still frigid, movement stirred on the plateau.

A mournful howl rang off of the distant mountains, followed by another, then another. Soon, they began to draw together, converging upon the sleeping pegasus.

Hurricane wasn’t sure what woke her. Was it the sudden stillness? Was it the long, loud howls? Or was it something else, an indefinable sixth sense earned and paid for in blood and battle?

Regardless of what it was, something woke her, and her eyes snapped open in the darkness.

Standing in the entrance to the cave was a massive wolf, and if the howls that still rang out around in the darkness were any indication, it certainly wasn’t alone. The mare’s ears drooped.

It was far too close; before she could reach her spear, it would be on her, and if it caught her in its jaws, she was as good as dead.

So instead of doing the expected thing and going for the weapon, she decided to forgo weaponry for surprise. Blasting forward with impressive speed, she bucked the wolf in the nose as hard as she could. As it staggered backwards, she bounced off, landing on all four hooves just beside her spear. Gripping it in her right forehoof, she smiled grimly.

“Come on then, doggy. Let’s play.”

With a ringing war cry, she launched herself at the bewildered canine, the keen point centered upon its throat.

II

The two tumbled out of the small cave, a snarling ball of fur and feathers landing hard on the plateau and breaking apart upon impact. Though Hurricane certainly hadn’t expected the wolf to just lie down and die, nor did she expect this kind of fighting.

She was no stranger to wolves. The earth pony druids had fought using them in the older wars, after all. This wolf, though, was far larger and more resilient. It had taken blows from her spear that would’ve crippled a normal wolf, or killed it outright, and just shaken them off, seemingly without much pain.

For its part, the wolf had given as well as it had gotten, and Hurricane now sported several long slashes on her right flank. Though they were shallow, they hurt more than expected and bled heavily, distracting her from the real problem, namely the rather large beast in front of her. Her right eye was also swelling, nearly shut now, where she had bashed it on a rock while she was wrestling with the beast. That was a far more serious injury, for though it didn’t hurt nearly as much and in and of itself posed no threat, it would impair her far more in the rest of the fight than the slices.

As it was, she was at a disadvantage during a night battle, considering the wolves' night vision. Adding the complete lack of depth perception that an eye swollen shut would bring, and death was almost assured. Despite herself, she cast a quick glance at the cave where she had sheltered, the magical candle still bringing a bluish glow to the small, enclosed space. Once again, she berated herself in her head. If she hadn't tackled the wolf out of the cave, her disadvantage would be lessened and she would gain the advantage of moving with greater freedom in the smaller space.

No sense worrying over things in the past, though. She desperately needed to escape, and if she just had her spear, she could with ease. However, her armour was incredibly important, and without the map, she could be lost in the Sleipnir range for months, if not longer. The candle, though lesser in importance, was something she loathed to leave behind; it was impressively expensive and had been given to her by a dear friend during the final migration to Equestria.

Her mind raced. Okay, Hurricane, you've been in worse situations than this before. Not that many, but it's happened. What are you going to do? If she could get at least one or two piece of her armour on, she could probably hold the wolf off until she could deal a killing blow. The problem, though, is that the wolf was very large and very powerful. If the wolf bit at her and she couldn't block, she would, in all likelihood, die a bloody, painful death, which, needless to say, was not on her to-do list.

All of this thought took only a few seconds. Before she could make any more advances in thinking, however, she was cut off by the wolf growling, then lunging at her with surprising speed for such a large creature. She barely managed to dodge, the cruel teeth snapping shut only inches from her exposed throat. Retaliating with a lunge from her spear, she managed to land a solid hit on one of the wolf's legs, biting deeply into the bone. It whined in sudden pain and shied backwards, looking at her with new caution in it's eyes. She smiled grimly. That's right, back off. If I can keep this up, I might not even need armour.

Prowess increased by her newfound confidence, she darted forwards, catching the wolf off guard with her aggression and slicing the razor-sharp edge of the spearhead down the length of the wolf's ribs. It recovered quickly and lashed out with its heavy paw, meeting nothing but air as she nimbly ducked and extended the spear in a powerful lunge. The wolf, expecting another attack, slid to the side, and unable to draw back in time, Hurricane gasped in pain as the powerful jaws clamped down on her foreleg.

Thinking quickly, she dropped the spear and hammered three powerful hooks into it's eye with her rock-hard hoof. The mouth loosened slightly and, bracing herself, she wrenched her hoof out, hissing at the rush of pain that assaulted her nerves.

From not so far off, another wolf howled and she stiffened up. She needed to finish this quickly. As the wolf recovered from the salvo of punches, Hurricane retrieved the discarded spear and brought the oak shaft down on it's head with both hooves, stunning it for a crucial second. Slipping underneath it's legs, she grunted with effort as she thrust upward with all of her strength, the blade slipping through the ribs and embedding itself in the massive heart.

The wolf went slack on top of her and sagged down, pressing on her with massive weight. Exerting a significant amount of her strength, she rolled it to the side, then struggled to her hooves and limped into the cave as fast as she could, ignoring the pain from her flank, foreleg and eye.

She buckled on her armour as fast as she could, haphazardly ramming the map and blanket into the saddlebag, followed by the hastily-capped candle. Slinging the bags over her barrel and cinching them tightly, she made her way to the entrance of the cave as fast as she could, then stopped short, more out of surprise than anything else. Waiting for her by the slain wolf's corpse was a group of four more that were, if anything, larger. With bestial growls, they charged forward. The sounds galvanized her into action and she leapt into the air, flashing over their heads with a few powerful flaps of her wings.

Their angry eyes followed her as she frantically bolted into the air above the stones, her breath ragged and panicked, winging her way north as fast as she could fly.

She didn't sleep again that night.

III

The dawn broke over the horizon, the early morning light spraying across the mountains. Mountain sunrises, Hurricane reflected, always look the best. Though speed was a necessity, that didn’t mean she couldn’t appreciate the rising sun. There was something magical about the sunrise. The fact that mere unicorns, working together, could give life to such a powerful thing each and every day was something to be amazed of, and said volumes about how much easier it was to accomplish things together than alone.

More practical, though, it was warmer. Though like most pegasi, she was resistant to cold, she didn’t relish in it like so many of the new ponies did. Long years spent fighting in the bitter winter of the Old Kingdom assured that. The blast of warmth from the sun transcended mere heat. it was a symbol; a powerful, brilliant beacon of hope that showed that companionship, no, friendship could come from anywhere, at any time.

That thought, however, didn’t stay for long in her mind. She was more occupied on squinting northwards, searching for the next landmark. It was not long in coming. Two peaks loomed on the horizon, taller than any other. The Twin Mountains, Argotiel and Argotiem. The tallest peaks in the known world. By some divine happenstance, they sat just next to each other directly atop the east-west line of the Sleipnir range, one to the east and one to the west, Argoteil and Argoteim respectively. The Gateway To The North, they were called, and The Fangs Of The Earth, and other names besides. In Equestria, they were known as Sunrise and Sunset, translations of the old Equus.

A convenient ledge presented itself on the eastern side of Argotiel and Hurricane touched softly down, her hooves making a pronounced tap on the hard stone. Riffling through her left saddlebag, she grimaced in irritation. She was down to her last meal of rations. Though she'd heard the stories, she hadn't expected the trip across the Sleipnirs to take so long, or the land to be so barren. She'd found nothing on the jagged peaks, not a blade of grass poking from the stony crevasses. It was a wonder how anything lived here; she supposed they ate what little could be found, by extension making it impossible for her to find anything.

She chewed disconsolately at the dry, brittle grass, swallowing it down quickly before taking her eyes off of the sunrise gleaming in the distance and shifting her attention to the mountain that loomed above her. Her eyes narrowed. It was a perfectly clear day, not a cloud in sight. If she made it to the top, she might be able to see what lay ahead with a bit more clarity. Shedding her bag and spreading her wings, she leapt into the air, hovering for a moment before darting up at high speed, her hooves nearly skimming the stone of the mountain.

By the time she reached the peak, she was short of breath, gasping for oxygen in the thin air. If she was a unicorn or an earth pony, she would undoubtedly be dead by now. As it was, she only had a few minutes before she passed out. Landing again, she simply stood for a moment. No pony in memory had ever reached the summit of the Twin Mountains. A wild laugh escaped her gasping lips. Now that she was atop the enormous spar of earth, she couldn't deny that at least part of her desire to come up here had simply been to do something nopony had ever done before. A few more chuckles came from her mouth before she trotted to the edge of a sheer cliff, gazing down at the land before her.

The mountains stretched out to the east, west and south as far as the eye, bands of gray and black capped with the tall white snowcaps. The monochromatic landscape rippled away from her in patterns that mesmerized and confused the eye, a few small clouds, invisible from lower down hovering in the distance, far away from her, casting a shadow over the brilliant white and casting it in shade. She turned, facing north, her eyes following the intricate patterns of the mountain passes that stretched out beneath her. She smiled suddenly. In the distance, on the horizon, a tiny line of green could be seen. A day more, maybe two, of hard flying would likely see her out of the mountains.

Hurricane began to grow lightheaded and realized that it was time to leave. Leaping from the cliff, she bulleted downwards, her eyes squinted against the wind, as the land beneath her began to draw into sharp focus. Seconds flew by, and she reached the bottom, pulling out of her steep dive into a more moderate, but still extremely fast, glide down the mountain. The rocky crags flashed by as blurs of stone, and as she gradually pulled into a slowing ascent, she angled to the left, curving and spiraling around the mountain until she located the ledge where she'd left her bags.

Slinging them onto her back and settling them into the grooves made for that exact purpose in her armor, she faced north once more.

IV

For the first time in many days, Hurricane’s hooves touched soft earth. She smiled in a way difficult to replicate; pure, condensed happiness would come to mind. Though most pegasi cared not about what they were to land on, Hurricane, again, took the ground beneath her as a symbol of the warmth of the sun, the daylight, the summer.

Also, on a completely unrelated, unsymbolic note, she was hungry and there was grass.

Several minutes later, Hurricane was full. Deciding to leave the air be for the moment, she trotted forward, taking in the scenery around her. Behind her, the Sleipnirs, rearing high, abruptly stopped against the earth. At the base of the slope, where she happened to be, a meadow of mountain grasses ran down a much more pleasant incline for several miles before crashing into a large, dimly-lit pine forest.

She wasn’t going to go into that forest. She had too much to do, too much distance to cover to avoid playing around like a filly. That mindset lasted all of two or three seconds before she grinned and bolted forward in a sprinting gallop. Though her flying was legendary, her other physical talents were often unknown. Running, as it happened, was one of them, and in only twenty or so minutes, she had covered the entirety of the distance and slowed as she drew close to the trees.

As she approached the first tree in her path, she was struck by just how enormous it was. Though from the field, the distance had tricked her eyes into seeing them as closer instead of larger, they were truly giants, easily spanning eight to ten meters at the base. As she backtrotted a few paces and looked up, the tree stretched into the sky for more than enough distance to make estimating it impractical.

Looking through the cracks into the trees at the deep, shadowy forest, Hurricane found herself smiling slightly. The mountains were boring; stone and snow that went on for miles upon miles. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, the blood pulsing through her veins. She could feel just how alive she was.

There was a proper word for that, but the more she reached for it, the less likely it seemed it was to appear. So shrugging it off for the moment, she began to trot slowly into the shadowy trees.

Beneath the massive canopies, it was predictably dark and wet, the ground spongy and mossy beneath her. This part of the world was so incredibly remote that there was no trail to be found in the entire forest, and certainly not next to the Sleipnirs, one of the most remote, unpopulated areas on Equis. Hurricane found herself leaping and, on occasion, even flying, over stones and massive fallen trees.

As she kept moving through the forest, the trees began to become a bit knotted and twisted, the moss slightly less spongy and vital. Curiosity piqued, she followed the unhealthiness until she could almost feel something in the air. It wasn’t what she expected, though. Instead of some foreign magic, or some strange illness, it felt almost familiar.

The reason became apparent as she entered a clearing. An enormous jewel stood in front of her, rectangular in shape, lines of magic visibly running through it. It took a moment to register in her mind, but as it did, she jolted in visible surprise. “A magical power Array…from the Ring? How did it get here?”

These incredibly powerful gems were what kept the Nimbus Ring in the sky. Though most ponies thought that the pegasus cloud cities were kept afloat by nothing by virtue of being clouds. Not so; it took considerable amounts of magical energy to even suspend them in the sky. Nimbus Ring, however, did not float. It flew. The power to move such a massive sky city was impressive indeed.

Of Nimbus Ring’s Arrays, three were devoted to lifting the city from the ground and keeping it in the air. The other two were required to move the city though the sky. The fact that one of the Arrays had fallen from the city was concerning. Beyond the direct repercussions, which would severely limit the Ring’s mobility, the Arrays were kept in the most secure chamber possibly, deep within the bowels of the flying fortress, and reinforced with several barriers.

What could’ve broken through the protective magic? The thought was disturbing, that not only could something penetrate the powerful shields, but it could also tear the Array bodily from the magical systems of the city and send it flying to the ground. Finally, the pilot of the Nimbus Ring didn’t have time to stop and retrieve the all-important gem.

All of this fit together into a rather unfortunate picture: A being, likely quite large, in possession of intense power, had assaulted the Nimbus Ring, for one reason or another. Given that there was a distinct lack of any other debris, it seemed that the Ring had at least escaped, but Hurricane no longer felt that joyous feeling of life. She certainly didn’t feel safe. The twisted trees became less interesting and a bit more threatening, and she decided that she’d had enough.

Backtrotting several paces, she flared her wings and prepared to fly. As she spiraled through the branches and emerged into the bright sunlight, a colossal roar shook the very air around her. It was all she could do to keep in flight. A massive, hazy silhouette emerged behind her, the air reverberating to the sound of behemoth footsteps, and any shred of courage left in Hurricane’s heart fled in a blink. Her wings revved and she blasted ahead faster than she’d ever gone before, the world blurring around her.

Another roar, farther away this time, thundered through the air all around her. The mysterious creature’s power was lessened with distance, though, and Hurricane’s wings refused to falter, cutting quickly and cleanly through the air. Her breathing was heavy, both from effort and from terror, and as she looked behind her, the beast had vanished. As conscious thought began to return and she began to slow, she angled herself upwards, rising to several hundred feet into the air.

Once she felt safe, she stopped flying altogether, hovering nervously as she scanned the forest beneath her. The only thing that remained of her heart-stopping terror from only moments earlier was the slight path of brown, twisted trees deep in the forest. There were no enormous monstrosities to be seen. Swallowing nervously, she turned and flew on, occasionally glancing behind her, expecting to see a dark shape looming at any moment, just waiting for her to drop her guard.

V

Green flashed by beneath Hurricane as she winged her way ever north. Several days had passed since she had found the Array, and since then, there had been no signs of either the great shadow or the Nimbus Ring. Well, at least I know that I’m on the right path. That was a small comfort. Whatever that massive beast was, it was stronger than anything Hurricane had ever seen. Even the greatest wars had been insufficient in destroying or sabotaging the Arrays in the belly of the Nimbus Ring.

So absorbed was she with her thoughts was that she didn’t notice the terrain beneath her growing steadily greyer until the last trees had gone. Glancing around in confusion, she looked backwards at where she’d been. That’s odd. From what I remember of the map, that forest goes on for far longer than this. She was correct.

In fact, it was just some sort of clearing. On the other side, the forest resumed. Looking down from above, she could see that the empty space was a flat and perfectly circular sheet of stone, a few shades darker than her mane, stretching perhaps thirty meters in every direction.

Etched upon its surface was a carving, its lines sharp and crisp, of an enormous circle. Dipping down and landing inside of the ring, Hurricane observed with some surprise that the enormous circle was composed entirely of tiny runes. It took her a moment to recognize them; they were written in a language called Proto-Equid, which was used long before even Old Equus had surfaced. Something about that seemed somewhat…off. It took her a moment to place exactly what it was.

If this had been written when Proto-Equid was commonplace, it would’ve worn away long ago. Not so, though. The writing looked fresh. Brand new, in fact; Hurricane could still see the marks from the tiny chisel that carved it. Taking a few steps back, she watched warily. Too many curious things had happened in this forest for this to be just a curiosity.

When no effect was forthcoming, she sighed and dropped her head, turning and walking out of the ring. As she passed the runes, they sparked nearly unnoticeably. She twitched slightly as she felt an itch, but looking down and seeing nothing, she continued trotting away.

Then, hearing a noise behind her, she instantly flipped around, her teeth already clenched on each other and spear already sliding from the harnesses in her armour. Whatever she expected, though, it certainly wasn’t what she saw.

In the dead center of the ring of runes that now burned with effluent ice-blue light stood a pony as black as pitch. It was neither a stallion or a mare; its shape gave away nothing. It didn’t even seem to have a coat; it was smooth, hairless, like a midnight shadow come to life. As it opened its mouth to give vent to a raspy, creaking laugh, it began to move towards her.

There was no movement in its legs. It didn’t walk, trot or gallop. It simply moved flowing across the ground like oil over ice. A trail of blackness enfolded the stone behind it, as though it had torn a hole through the world into the nothingness of the Primordial Void. Its mane, dark as its coat, twisted and bubbled like a sickly fluid, seeming unhealthy and unnatural.

As it drew closer, the gaze of its empty white eyes paralyzed Hurricane with fear. They bored deep into her soul, drawing out all of her fillyhood fears and crushing her under their weight. She may have died there and then, her heart stopped from the sheer terror of the thing’s unnatural gaze, had it not moved into the ring of light.

Instantly, it made a sound like a dying thing, shying back as though in physical pain. The spell of the eyes broken, Hurricane dropped to the ground, breathing heavily. In time, as the shadow-thing went silent, she raised her head to it, staring boldly into the cold orbs of white.

Now that she could see its prison, its gaze held no power of her. She stood proudly, daring it to come for her. Again it lunged, and again it was forced back by the ring. Now she understood why the carvings were so pristine. It wasn’t that they characters themselves were new; they were ancient. They were simply recarved and deepened, century after century, to keep this thing bound to the runic circle.

But what was this thing?

Hurricane had heard the stories. Demons from the Outer Darkness, shredding holes through universes and dimensions to reach wherever they were going. None of those stories had ever mentioned something like this, though. There were no runic rings, no pony-shaped shadow creatures. Whatever it was, it was something entirely different.

A voice like stone grating on stone spoke and she jumped in surprise and fright. The thing’s mouth was moving. She stared, intrigued. So it could speak?

You are a piece…of the prison…

A confused frown came over Hurricane’s face. A piece of the prison? What prison? The runic ring? Experimentally, she tapped it. Nothing happened. The creature refused to drop its hate-filled glare. Swallowing, she replied, “What do you mean?”

It began to laugh in a raspy, croaking gurgle, maintaining eye contact the entire time. When it finished, it once again spoke. I can feel it in your hoofsteps. I can hear every single thing in this world quieting as you pass. Even the little whispers of the air around you go silent. You are a piece of the prison. It lapsed into silence for a moment, before it continued. The world hates you just as much as I do. You are rage, you are fury. You are the Hurricane.

Now that, Hurricane was not expecting. She took a few steps backward, purely out of shock, before stomping forwards angrily, standing just behind the runic border. “Who are you? What are you? How do you know my name!?”

The black pony-thing laughed again, the sound beginning to grate on Hurricane’s ears. Hurricane is what they call you? Oh, that is perfection. Its voice dropped, now low, soft and threatening. You would not understand me, nor could you understand. Just know that you will not run. Nothing can fly faster than fate.

With that, it sank into the ground, pooling into a puddle of absolute blackness before seeming to seep into the stone, vanishing from view. The ring slowly dimmed from a blue blaze to a soft glow, then finally dissipated entirely, leaving the pegasus standing there, confused and filled with a feeling of foreboding. Somehow, the final words of the black thing had seemed…familiar.

VI

Hurricane refused to leave the circle of runes. A part of her knew that she was wasting valuable time; even without a propulsion Array, the Nimbus Ring could still outpace most pegasi in flight. Be that as it may, she couldn’t bring herself to leave the circle of stone. Pacing around the perimeter, she kept her eyes trained on the intricate lines of the binding spell.

In fact, upon further investigation, it wasn’t a ring at all. It was actually an icosagon, twenty sides and the same number of points. Each one was spaced evenly across the inscription and marked with a different glyph, about the size of a hoof. Every fourth marking (five in all), was slightly larger, and a bit more complex. In between them, lines of spidering runes stretched, each one no larger than one of the rivets on her armour.

Despite their varied size, they were all quite deep, carved nearly ten centimeters into the stone. They all shared the same commonality: illegibility. Nothing had changed with the blue glow. The Proto-Equid was still just as confusing as before, and there was far, far too much of it to write down the runes, even if she’d had a paper. Anyway, she was no scribe, not for that kind of delicate work.

As she trotted around, eyes trained on the stone, her hoof clopped down on top of one of the five complex runes. Instantly, a jolt of pain blazed up her leg like fire through her veins and the piercing blue light rose again, brighter than before. She gasped in shock as her leg, so recently painful, went numb, buckling underneath her and sending her toppling to the ground.

The lines on the rune began to flow over the surface, rearranging themselves from the Proto-Equid into something resembling modern Equestrian. As her leg began to regain feeling, a dull, heavy ache running up and down the entire length of it, the light dimmed to nothingness, leaving the lines reformed and reconnected into a single word:

Fury

She stumbled backwards, her leg still not quite functioning properly. She quickly shucked one of her greaves off to see if there had been any damage, and she gasped out a small sound of shock. The hoof attached to said leg, and perhaps fifteen centimeters above it, was dyed inky black. A rasping croak sounded from behind her, and once again, the runic design flared brightly to life.

Not quite as brightly, though.

The rune that now described the word Fury, alone in the prison, was unlit. The field was slightly dimmer, and near that piece especially, the light seemed almost to go out. The shadowy form was once again present, but this time, it could draw closer, press itself against the barrier seemingly without pain.

The twisted laughter from before spewed from its throat as it raised up a hoof. The last fifteen centimeters were dark blue, the same colour as…her coat.

All at once, she realized what had happened and backpedaled furiously. The thing’s voice rang out again, poleaxing her, somehow…stronger. I told you, didn't I? You are a part of the prison, and now you have taken it back. Another laugh. I am part of you now. You will never be alone. You’ll always have a little piece of me watching over your shoulder, skulking in the darkness.

As Hurricane bolted, careening into the sky, the laughter continued to follow her Fly, birdy, fly as fast as you can. You can never outrun yourself.

A few hours later, she’d given up on scrubbing the black out of her coat. It was there to stay, twitching occasionally. Hurricane ignored them, hoping that they were just muscle spasms instead of some dark sign. It was still painful; though the ache had lessened somewhat, it definitely hurt, less like the ache and more like the original pain, a fiery, burning sensation running through the veins.

Little rivulets of blood seeped from where her natural coat joined the black, and that’s where it was most painful. It didn’t take Clover the Clever to tell her that it was magical in nature; even as a pegasus, she could feel the pure magic radiating from it. She sighed. I shouldn’t have stayed. My curiosity certainly put me in a rough spot today.

She wondered to herself if she could dye the fur with some kind of berry, but quickly discarded the idea. Even if she could miraculously find a berry around, unless it was the exact shade of blue she needed, it would be conspicuous, and it would certainly draw unnecessary attention if seen.

She returned to the stone circle when the pain finally died to a less noticeable state, an hour or so later, determined to get some answers from the shadow creature. She was prepared to do anything to achieve them. There was only one small problem; said beast was gone and refused to emerge.

She slammed her hoof on the runes until the aching reawakened, but there was no sign of the black pony. Again, she heard the laughter. It was distorted this time, though, and fainter, as though it came from a great distance. It quickly faded back into nothingness. Snorting in anger, Hurricane took to wing again, blasting out of the clearing with gale-force winds.

Tearing through the sky, she ground her teeth. Her leg was still aching, and it didn’t seem to have any intentions of stopping anytime soon. As soon as she’d resolved to get some answers, the monster was nowhere to be found. Of course, when she didn’t need it, it appeared gladly, happy to delay her from her hunt for the Ring.

No more of that, she thought as she shook her head. I’ve lost time and I need to make it up. I can’t stop again, no matter what I see.

Many miles back, the symbols carved into the surface of the stone flared to life for a third time. A smooth black form with a single blue cannon and hoof rose, staring north. She cannot escape. Sooner or later, she’ll have to come back, and I’ll be waiting. It opened its mouth in a vicious smile, revealing jagged teeth where formerly, there was only empty white space.

Oh yes, I’ll be waiting.

VII

Still painful.

Hurricane was…displeased…at the level of pain currently jolting through her hoof. It hadn’t ceased since she’d recreated it by stomping on the ring, and didn’t show any signs of doing anything of the sort in the near future. She groaned, muttering to herself as she flew through the overcast sky:

“Ughhh. How? How even? What happened?” Completely disregarding the pain, her mind was reeling. Somehow, whatever dark creature that was, it had stolen a piece of her and replaced it with part of itself, magically fusing the two. The amount of magic necessary to perform such a feat was impressive; she wasn’t sure that even Clover could do that kind of thing.

Perhaps Star could do it, she briefly reflected, but the idea was discarded out of hand. Star Swirl, though intensely powerful, was very specialized. He was a transformation mage: he didn’t create things, or combine them. He changed them. He changed their shape, he changed their fundamental nature. He could morph nearly anything, hence his crowning glory, the Omniomorphic Spell.

It was a nearly mythical piece of spellcasting; when the spell was active, the caster gained an intimate knowledge of the structure and composition of everything around them, allowing them to freely shape the world to their whim. To her knowledge, only Star Swirl had ever mastered such intensely complex magic.

Still, the point remained: even one of the greatest mages in pre-Equestrian history couldn’t recreate this kind of magic. So what kind of monster was the pony? More accurately, how did it do that without even having a horn? For it didn’t. For as magical in nature as it seemed to be, it still appeared to be an earth pony. So how could it cast spells of this power?

These were the thoughts ricocheting through her mind as she blasted forwards, hammering her way through a heavy headwind. Low clouds roared in the sky above her, and she grimaced. The massive storm from the Sleipnir Range had caught up with her, moving far faster than she thought it would. Once again, lightning crackled around her and thunder boomed overhead.

Looking down, she saw nowhere to land. Everything was the unforgiving green, needle-sharp branches and jagged rocks just waiting to stop her progress for good. As dangerous and difficult as storm flying was, this was a time when Hurricane had to do it. There was nowhere to hide.

Once again, the raging winds buffeted her from side to side, knocking her around like some sort of cat playing with an exceptionally feathery ball of string. It didn’t help when the torrential rain started falling, hammering down on Hurricane like an angry god of some sort.

She tried to rise above the clouds, but to no avail; the storm was strong, and she couldn’t punch through to reach them. The force of the rain was stunning; it drove her down, nearly beating her breath out as she strove to fight the weather and fly straight. Needless to say, she lost, and began to slowly lost altitude.

Only a meter or two from the canopy of the forest below her, she spotted a clearing and desperately beat forward, breaking all attempts to maintain altitude. She made it, falling hard into the clearing. Her fall was broken by a large stone, and as she began to fade, the last thing she saw before losing consciousness completely was a small pair of hooves.

Hurricane awoke. This, in and of itself, was a surprise to her. As she’d hit the rock, she was sure that she’d die. More surprising was the fact that she was warm and dry. Opening her eyes a crack, she immediately winced at the intense brightness. A fire burned nearby, and she lay sprawled out on a rug, her dark coat sucking up the heat eagerly.

She let out a soft groan as a brilliant flower of pain blossomed in her head. Gingerly reaching her hoof up to touch it, she felt a massive lump. Her eyes still squinted sharply, she looked around, relieved to see her saddlebags, spear and armour resting on a crudely-cut wooden table nearby.

A voice.

It had been quite a while since Hurricane had heard any voices beside her own, and this certainly wasn’t anypony she recognized. She’d never had any foals of her own; no time to settle down between Equestria uniting and Mist stealing the Nimbus Ring. This was a filly’s voice, high, cheerful…

And piercing. Her headache multiplied exponentially.

“Hey! Mum, Da! She’s awake!” There was a patter of tiny hooves, then a louder clip-clop as two pairs of heavier hoofsteps quickly stepped into the room. Somebody shushed the filly; sounded like a mare’s voice. Then a stallion began speaking to her.

“Lass, are ya feelin’ better? We found you laid out in the clearing. It’s only a kilometer or so from where we live. Ya bumped yer heid hard on a rock. Our Fire here found you. If she hadn’t, I dinnae wha’ would’ve happened to ya.”

He spoke with a thick accent typical of ponies from the more northern regions of the world. It actually took Hurricane a moment to decipher it before she responded. Her voice was dry and croaking, as though she hadn’t had anything to drink in days. “Thank you, um…”

“M’name’s Thunderbird, lass, and m’wife is Arc Crackle, but you can jes’ call us Thunder and Arc. I already said her name, but m’filly’s name is Fire. Welcome to the house. ‘Bout time you woke up, you’ve been here for near a week already.”

Hurricane bolted upright, her dry voice panicking. “A week?! I’ve been here a week?! Oh, no no no. I’ve lost too much time!” Her head sharply swiveled, catching Thunder’s stormy gray eyes. “Did a ring of clouds pass by here?”

A little startled by the sudden movements and the rather odd question, Thunderbird put a hoof to his broad chin, thinking. “Hmm, now that ya mention it, there was one passed by two weeks ago, a week and a half, maybe. Why?”

Hurricane shook her head. “No time to explain. I need to get out of here. Do you have anything I can drink?”

Arc came forward, quietly placing a glass of water in front of her. She drained it instantly, then leapt to her hooves, ignoring the pain in her black one. “Thanks for everything, but I need to go now.”

Then little Fire spoke up. “You cannae go, miss. The monsters’ll get ye.”

That certainly piqued Hurricane’s curiosity. “Monsters? What monsters?” Thunder’s face set in a grim line and he beckoned to her. “Well, miss…”

“Hurricane. My name is Hurricane.”

“Well, miss Hurricane, I’ll show you what monsters.” He led her to the door, him walking, her hobbling, and threw it open. "Those monsters."

A bloodcurdling shriek tore through the previously quiet night, and a dark shape quite literally flew towards the open door. The yellow stallion next to Hurricane slammed it with all his strength, barely managing to keep it closed as whatever was on the other side smashed and tore at it, screaming in rage all the while. Hurricane shrank back, her jaw dropping open at the sheer fury that was apparent in the bestial sounds. Finally, after nearly five minutes of this, it went quiet

Thunder released the door, exhaling a sigh of relief, and turned to her, his face stony. "Well, lass? Monstrous enough for ya?" Hurricane nodded frantically as he continued. "They dropped out of the sky on us jes' a short time ago, about when tha cloud ring ya wer' talking about passed by. They only com' out when the sun goes down, and then they shred ta bits anything that goes out."

Arc trotted softly in and spoke for the first time, her voice calm and quiet, in contrast with her husband's loud, rough voice. Her bright blue coat shimmered in the firelight. "Thunder, please. Yer goin' ta scare the poor dear off." He laughed, though not unkindly.

"Scare her off? Ha, I was rather hopin' that she would scare them off! Ha' ya seen what she carries, Arc? That spear's a real weapon, make no mistake! And that armour? This pony's a warrior! Ain't that right, lass?"

Hurricane found herself nodding. "Yeah, that's right. Commander Hurricane, the youngest of the Valkyries of Equestria." The two looked at each other in alarm, backing away slowly. Hurricane cocked her head. "Hey, what's up?"

It was Thunder who spoke next, a thin sheen of sweat apparent on his coat. "Jes' to be clear, lass...Ya said 'Equestria', right...? Commander Hurricane, from Equestria?" She nodded, and his face grew grim. "Those creatures...they're lookin' fer ya, lass. First time they came, they said they were lookin' fer the Equestrian Windstorm. I couldn't make heid nor tails of it at the time, but now..."

Hurricane put it together in her head. "That's me, I guess."

Thunder and Arc nodded sadly. "Sorry, lass." Surprisingly, it was Arc. "Truly sorry, but we need ta ask ya ta leave."

VIII

The door closed, and Hurricane turned, clad in armour. There was an angry screech, and before she could even react, she was bowled over to the ground, knocking the spear from her grip. The screeches escalated as something just barely brushed her throat. Her teeth gritted. Okay, way too close for comfort.

Flipping over, she pinned whatever it was to the ground beneath her. It seemed to be rather equine, with a pony’s shape and proportioning. In fact, it seemed to be just like any other pony, but with thick, leathery wings. She frowned. Leathery wings? That sounded…familiar…

She had no time to dwell on the familiarity, however, because with another screech, the mysterious equine returned the flip, ending up on top again. Hurricane jolted in surprise at the apparent ease with which the creature had flipped her around again. She could barely see anything past the flailing limbs and the darkness, and for a moment, a brilliant yellow eye flared down at her, nearly freezing her in place. More shrieks sounded in the distance, rapidly growing closer.

Breaking from the strange eye and managing to wrangle one of her hooves free from the pin, she grasped her spear from the ground, thrusting it brutally into the creature’s haunch, barely missing the organs. It stumbled backwards, blood pouring from the wound, and she flicked her spear around, slamming the butt hard into the figure’s temple a few times, almost certainly concussing it. It fell to the dirt, unconscious in an instant. She paced agitatedly for a moment.

Okay, Hurricane, think think think. Thunder and Arc clearly said they could speak, meaning that they’re civilized, at least on some level. Even so, they’ve been attacking innocent ponies, stopping them from leaving at night, and they’re looking for me, apparently. That’s somewhat disconcerting. That was the last thing on her mind, however, as three more of the pony-like creatures dropped to the ground in front of her, screeching loudly as they dashed forward.

Hurricane braced herself, but unnecessarily, for other than hate-filled glares, nothing was directed towards her. Instead, they swooped up their fallen comrade in their hooves and darted off. Hurricane caught a quick glimpse of bat-like wings as they passed in front of the moon, and then they were gone. Her breathing was ragged as she gradually came down from her adrenaline high, sitting heavily upon the hard-packed earth.

The door creaked open and Thunder cautiously stepped out, motioning to Arc and Fire to stay in the house. “Wha’ happened out here, lass? All we could see t’rough the windows was a blur a’ fur ‘n feathers.”

Hurricane turned to him, her eyes burning fiercely. “Whatever those things are, they aren’t monsters. I’ve seen monsters in the old Homeland. Trust me, these aren’t them. If they were, I doubt you’d still be here.” Her gaze flicked back to the path the creatures had taken, tracing a straight line through the sky. “No, these are ponies, or something like it, and I mean to find out what they are and what they’re doing here.”

Thunder winced. “Are ya shur ya want ta do that, lass? If ya had that much trouble with jus’ one of ‘em, then think how hard-pressed ye’ll be against five or ten. I could go with ya, teach ‘em a few things about northern ponies with me old family sword.” Smiling, Hurricane shook her head.

“Sorry, Thunder. Hate to say it, but you’ll only slow me down. If you can’t fly, and since you don’t have wings, I have no reason to believe that you can, then it’ll take far longer to even reach wherever they’re living nearby, to say nothing of accessing it. They can fly, after all; who’s to say that you’ll even be able to get to it?”

He winced, and she knew that she had struck a nerve. “Aye, I guess yer right…With yer wings, ye’d leave me in the dust before I could move a hoof.” Hurricane shook her head.

“It’s not only that. If these things are what I think they are, then I just might be able to speak with them.” She blasted up into the air, streaking after the mysterious ponies at incredible speed.

Hurricane squinted her eyes against the wind as it beat against her, chasing in the direction of the creatures. With her speed, she should’ve been able to catch up before too long, but they were simply…gone. The dawn blazed on the horizon, nearly blinding her as she flew due east. Scanning the horizon for the umpteenth time, she sighed. The unbroken green was beginning to bore her.

In the corner of her eyes, there was a flicker of motion, and instantly her head jerked to the side as an indigo-purple tail slipped down into a small outcrop of rocks. Turning sharply, she rocketing down to the outcropping. In the center of a sheer, smooth face was bored a small, smooth hole. She gulped and slid through the small hole, emerging into a cave that was certainly small, but at least large enough to stand in.

It was lit by a torch that burned with the same flickering, preternatural flame as her enchanted candle, casting the interior in a pale, cold light. Pressed against wall opposite her was the same creature she’d fought. In the torch’s light, she could see it clearly, and her eyebrow shot up. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

It, or, judging by the shape and voice, she, hissed angrily at Hurricane. “Of course we aren’t. If you’d had your way, we’d have been left back in the old Homeland while you made the journey here. I have news for you, pegasus. Just because I’m an ialtag doesn’t mean I’m a beast.”

Hurricane leaned on her spear shaft, recognizing that the pony in front of her was in no shape to fight. She sized her up. There were the typical slitted yellow pupils of the ialtag, often known as bat ponies to those less familiar with them, and the leathery, batlike wings that led to the name. Her coat was charcoal grey, and her tail was…blue. Dark blue. Something about that seemed…off…

There was a sound of steel scraping on stone, and before Hurricane could even begin to turn, a metallic clang filled her ears and the world around her blinked out into darkness.

IX

Throb

Hurricane groaned, her gummed-up eyes slowly forcing themselves open. The world in front of her, though, was so fuzzy that she couldn’t make out a thing. A few blobs of grey in front of her, on a field of bluish-grey. They seemed to phase in and out of existence, blending in with the wall. A groan escaped her lips as she blinked a few times. The world staunchly refused for quite a while, but several slow blinks later, the scene in front of her snapped into some semblance of focus. Snatches of a low conversation filtered into her confused ears.

…We…just…that would…

If she gets the chance, she’ll…us…

Would both of you be quiet? She’s coming to!”

In front of her stood a group of three ialtaeg, wings flared and slitted eyes glinting angrily. The one in the center, a mare with the usual charcoal-grey coat and a periwinkle mane and tail, stepped forwards. She spoke in a rough, authoritative voice. “Alright, you. What’s the Nimbus Ring doing this far from Equestria?”

Hurricane struggled to speak, her mouth dry as chalk. Her words came out as a low, harsh rasp: “Going north.” The ialtag’s eye narrowed.

“Don’t play games with me, featherhead. You know that’s not what I meant. Now tell me,” she stomped over, a drawing a vicious-looking, exotic sword from a sheath on her back, the sickle-like blade gleaming dully in the dim light, “where the Ring is going!”

Stumbling to her feet, Hurricane looked her in the eyes. “The only thing I know about it is that it’s headed north.” She tested her wings, quickly finding that they were bound to her sides with strong rope.

The pony in front of her snorted. “Yeah, right. We know who you are, and we knew you were coming. A scout saw you a little more than a week ago, flying just above the trees. The Ring passed about a week before that. We’re not stupid, Hurricane, and we know that pegasi post rear guards a long way behind. Now tell me where it’s going!”

Hurricane kept her icy eyes locked on the ialtag’s yellow pair, boring into them. The voice she spoke in belied her weak, unsteady stance; it was strong, unafraid, and above all, ready. “Again, I don’t know. One of the Valkyries killed the King and stole it. I’m not following it, I’m chasing it. She’s heading north for a reason, and I want to know what it is.”

With a growl, the blade was raised, the glowing eyes cold and merciless. “Fine, have it your way. You brought this upon yourself.” With a flash, the steel began to descend, describing a deadly arc through the air. Hurricane made to throw herself sideways but fell, an unseen, malevolent rock tripping her in midstride. She gritted her teeth as the razor-keen edge neared her hind legs, and her eyes screwed themselves shut. Please, let it be over quickly.

No pain was forthcoming, and she dared to crack her eyes open. Another of the ialtaeg in front of her, this time a huge, muscular stallion, had stepped in the path of the murderous blade, catching it seemingly effortlessly on the head of a jagged flanged mace. He had a rough, deep voice with some kind of unidentifiable accent. “Calm yourself, Moondark. We’ll never get any information from her if she’s bleeding out on the stone.”

The mare, now properly named Moondark, growled in irritation. “Back off, Gloom. It’s obvious that she’s not going to tell us what she knows, not to mention that she nearly killed Dusk with her spear! You cannot tell me that you aren’t angry!”

Gloom’s face contorted as he growled at her. “Of course I’m angry. I’m furious. But killing her would be moronic. I know you’re headstrong, but by Saros, at least show some kind of common sense.”

After a brief moment, Moondark slammed her sword back into the sheath in a swift, aggressive motion, stalking out into a different room.

Wait, room?

Coughing, Hurricane raised her head to Gloom. “Um…Gloom, was it? Where am I?”

He turned to her, glaring. His voice dropped to barely more than a whisper, one that contained unspeakable malice. “I may have saved your life, but that does not make us friends or allies. I still despise you, but you’re more useful alive than dead. You do not ask the questions. We do.”

She wilted under his unnatural eyes, looking anywhere but there. Her gaze fell upon the third ialtag, another mare. Like all bat ponies, she had dark charcoal grey fur, but her mane and tail were a dead black, darker than the deepest night. The strangest thing, though, was her eyes. Unlike almost any other ialtag Hurricane had ever seen, her eyes were a brilliant leaf green instead of bright, glowing yellow.

Those green eyes caught Hurricane’s own, locking their gazes together. They held eye contact for more than a minute before the ialtag broke off, turning to Gloom. “Gloom, you should go make sure we weren’t followed. Also, if you could stop Moon from doing something excessively moronic, it would be appreciated.”

Gloom glared suspiciously at her for a moment before slowly turning and making his way ponderously out of the cave. Glancing furtively about, the unnamed ialtag trotted quickly over to her and, strangely enough, grinned, flicking out a small knife and slashing the ropes from Hurricane’s wings. “Hurricane? Commander Hurricane? By Saros, it’s been a long time.”

Hurricane’s brows furrowed in confusion, her fuzzy mind struggling to make some sort of connection. “Do I…know you?”

The pony before her grinned even wider. “Wow, it really has been a while, hasn’t it? C’mon, you fought alongside me in the third Tribal war!”

The furrowed brow deepened, and she lifted a hoof to press it to her temple, closing her eyes. It was almost there…on the tip of her tongue…

Her eyes snapped open, her mouth following suit moments afterward. “…Star?”

The ialtag saluted, the cheeky grin still shining on her face. “Starlight Armour, reporting for active duty, ma’am!”

There was a clatter of stone and Star paled, her smile freezing on her face and her gaze sliding past Hurricane and to the entrance. Turning slowly, the pegasus gulped at the laser-guided stares of Moondark and Gloom, the stallion stepping forward, his face grim. “And what, pray tell, are you doing, Star?”

X

Well, so much for that escape.

Gloom unslung his massive mace from his back, advancing towards Hurricane. “I told you that you were more useful to us alive than dead. If you’re going to be more trouble than you’re worth, though…” he left the sentence unfinished as he slammed his weapon into the enchanted torch on the wall, smashing it to splinters and dispelling the magic. Instantly, the entire cave was choked in blackness. The only light were the shimmering eyes of the ialtaeg.

A shriek reverberated through the small space, nearly deafening Hurricane, and a pair of blazing yellow eyes darted towards her. She only barely managed to dodge, hearing a razorlike edge keening through the air just above her head. That’s Moondark, then. Backpedaling furiously, she fought desperately to avoid having her head separated from her shoulders.

A few meters away, Gloom battled Star, the enormous steel bludgeon proving more than effective against the mare’s twin curved knives. Sparks sprayed off of the wall above her as the mace skated along the stone. Hurricane hissed out a curse. These ialtaeg have some skill. I could probably do some damage with my spear, but I have no idea where it is. Come on, Hurricane…Think!

That would prove easier said than done, as the screeches bounced around her, disorienting her and causing her to stumble. If only she could get some light, then things would be much more clear-cut. Duck the blade, get in close, start bashing. Unfortunately, some time had passed; if there was a passage to the outside, then it was night and therefore didn’t help.

She heard a yelp from off to the side, “Watch out!” and she pivoted just in time to slide to the right, away from Moon, as Gloom’s mace smashed the rock where she was standing into pieces. Bestial roars tore from his throat as he wrenched it from the earth.

“Hurricane! Behind you!”

Oh, great. More? As the mare chanced a glance, she caught a glimpse of vindictive yellow eyes, and then a fierce pain assaulted her wing. Gloom and Moon faltered for a moment, which was enough of a window for Hurricane to tear her wing loose from whatever had impaled it and dash to the next room, where Moon had formerly disappeared to.

Rounding a corner, Hurricane had never been happier to see light in her life. Even if it was just another magical torch, at least she could see her assailants clearly before Gloom smashed this one too and Moon inevitably tore her limb from limb.

The first to come around the corner was Star, who darted into the chamber on leathery wings, tossing a knife to the pegasus. She caught it gratefully, holding it in her mouth so as to have two free hooves to pummel with.

Star was followed in short order by Moon, her exotic sword gleaming in the dim light, and Gloom, mace already held high to annihilate the torch. Star moved to intercept him, needling him from above with her solitary knife and throwing him into quite the dilemma. If he dropped his guard for long enough to swing, she could effectively slice his throat.

Not altogether trusting her to keep him occupied, Hurricane kept a wary eye to the side as she squared off against Moon. A twitch from the depths of the shadowy corridor caught her attention, though, as around the bend came limping a fourth ialtag, with a navy blue mane and tail and a very, very familiar spear, stained with blood, held shakily in her hooves.

Hurricane had never actually been stabbed by her own weapon before. She’d always expected it to be some sort of feeling of betrayal, emptiness, sadness, that sort of thing. That certainly wasn’t what she felt. Instead, what presented itself was a burning, molten core of pure anger, battering against her logic and reason. A haze of red descended over the room and an animalistic growl thundered from her throat.

“How dare you? HOW DARE YOU?”

With a display of speed that would’ve surprised any of history’s greatest pegasi, she blasted forwards, bashing Moon to the side as though she weighed no more than a few feathers, and launched a two-hoofed drop kick straight into the ialtag’s face. She cried out and dropped to the ground, losing her grip on the spear in the process. Hurricane snatched it up, whirling to face the three other ialtaeg. She stalked forward, voice as sharp and cold as a needle of ice.

“Allow me to make myself very clear. You two,” she motioned towards Gloom and Moondark, “are going to tell me exactly where we are, and what in Tartarus you’re doing here, when by all rights you should be guarding the Frozen Sepulcher. If you should choose to not do exactly as I say, then I will be…displeased.”

The ponies in question shared a quick glance and nodded at each other, sheathing their weapons. Moon stepped slowly forward. “You’re in our home, if it can be called that. It’s mostly just a cave that we dug over time. As for what we’re doing here, we decided that our lives weren’t to be decided by some decrepit old ialtaeg from the Council, and we followed the pegasi. It took us some time, but we found a place to live here. Everything was, for the most part, stable.

Then ponies came to live nearby, whether they had lived here for generations or had come here from the Homeland. They planted orchards, gardens, and we started taking some fruit to eat here and there. Nothing that they would notice missing. So it went for quite a while. After some time, most ponies moved down into the more populated areas, including the new kingdom of Equestria. Only one family stayed, and we’ve been taking less and less to compensate. We’re starving.

Then just a little while ago, lo and behold, what should fly above by the Nimbus Ring itself, and following it, Commander Hurricane. We took to keeping the ponies inside by night so they wouldn’t see us for what we really were, but then you came along. We wanted to use you as a ransom to become citizens of Equestria. For too long, the ialtag have been—“

Hurricane waved a hoof, her rage fleeing into boredom. “Yeah, I get it. You guys are jerks. But I’m curious about you, Star. Why did you tag along with these chuckleheads?”

Star’s eyes gleamed earnestly in the light and a small smile spread across her face. “I was following you, Hurricane.”

The pegasus raised an eyebrow. "Well, I'm flattered. But I'm stupid enough on my own. I don't think I could handle you too."

XI

“So let me get this straight. You guys, four ialtaeg, followed the Nimbus Ring when the pegasi made the final trip to Equestria?” Gloom and Moondark nodded, followed after a moment by the battered and bruised third, the one with the navy blue mane. Dusk, Moon had called her. Hurricane’s eyes flicked over to Star. “Except for you, who followed me directly when I made my last flight before meeting up with them, completely by chance, about two months ago?” A forth nod, and Hurricane groaned.

“So it never struck you, not once, to ask the pegasi, or any other pony, for that matter, if you could come along? Never?” The reactions ranged in between disbelieving, shocked and chastised. “We thought that the ialtaeg agreed with their ruling council on guarding the Frozen Sepulcher. You certainly didn’t give us any reason to doubt it.” Another groan, and Hurricane dropped her head into her hooves.

“Y’know what? I’m done with you ponies. Seriously, just…ugh. Go south, you’ll find a home in Equestria. Except for you, Star.”

Taken by surprise, the ialtag stepped back some. “Hmm? Where am I going, then?”

Hurricane’s lips, unable to control themselves any longer, turned up sharply at the ends. “You’re coming with me, Star, and we’re going to chase the Ring to the ends of the earth and beyond.”

Star grinned broadly. “Well, why didn’t you say so sooner? Let’s get going. It was going north, right?”

Hurricane nodded. “Yeah, due north, straight as a compass needle. Something I need to do first, though, and you three,” she gestured to the other three ialtaeg, “are coming with me.”

Moon frowned, confused. “Well, what do you need us for?”

Hurricane lifted one hoof first. “First, you, Moondark, are going to tell me what that sword is. I’ve never seen one, and I’ve seen a lot of swords.”

Taken somewhat aback by the odd question, she complied immediately. “It’s called a khopesh. Ialtaeg found it in the far south of the Homeland a few years before the exodus to Equestria began. We kept it secret, since it has so much cutting force.”

Hurricane thought for a moment. “Hmm. Interesting. Now then,” she placed the hoof down, then raised it again. “Second, you’re all going to come with me, and we’re going to visit someone. Sound good?”

The ialtaeg murmured unhappily, but acquiesced. Hurricane smiled smugly. “Well then, shall we?”

With a bang, Hurricane slammed to the ground outside of a small house, raising her voice to be heard. “Hey! Thunder! Arc! I have something to show you!”

The duo of unicorns emerged cautiously, jumping backwards as the four ialtaeg landed softly in a rough half-circle around Hurricane. Thunder’s voice was shaky and unsteady. “H-Hurricane, lass, what are they?”

She grinned cheekily. “These are your monsters. Thunderbird, Arc Crackle, meet the ialtaeg Moondark, Gloom, Dusk and Starlight Armour!” The four ponies slowly walked forwards, weapons sheathed. Arc held her hoof to her mouth and gasped, and Thunder backed up steadily, his brow furrowed angrily.

“How dare ya show yer faces around here! Ye’ve scared me wife, me daughter and me half to death! What were ya doin’ creepin’ round in the dark like that, anyway?”

Moon stepped hesitantly forward. “W…well, to put it bluntly, Thunder—may I call you Thunder?—We were stealing.” An expression of outrage came upon the stallion’s face as he stomped forwards, but before he could respond further, she hastily began speaking again. “My race—the ialtaeg, that is—can only eat fruit. We’re starving this far north, but we thought that if we went south, we would be killed. Everybody that lived around here moved except for you. You and your orchard.”

Thunder began to see where she was going with this, and his abject fury began to die down a little bit as she continued. “So we started to steal from you. We took a little bit of fruit every night, just enough to live. You didn’t even notice. It stayed that way until the ring of clouds passed overhead, and Hurricane came with it. We thought we could use her as a ransom to get into the southlands, so we started terrorizing you at night. We needed to make you afraid so you wouldn’t go out as much, because we started taking so much more food. We needed it. Hurricane is legendary for her fighting skill.”

“So that’s why we were playacting as monsters. We didn’t actually want to hurt any of you.”

Thunder, having heard the story, planted all four hooves on the ground. He caught Hurricane’s eye and she grinned at him, motioning for him to go ahead. He heaved a long sigh. “Ya four do realize that yer gonna hafta work for yer food, right?”

It took a moment for them to really understand what he was saying, and for the first time, Hurricane saw them smile. Gloom stepped forward, his hoof out. “Thank you, Thunderbird. We’re used to earning our keep.”

It was then that Arc noticed that Star was staying back and motioned for her to join. “Com’ on then, dear. We’ll get ya some food!”

Star smiled. “Nah, I’m fine. Thanks, though. I’m going with Hurricane, into the North.”

Arc smiled warmly at her. “I won’ pester ya, then. I’ll have me hooves full just dealing wi’ three. I wish ya the best!” With that, she turned to the remaining three, the smile still on her face. “Com’ then, all. We’ll get ya inside and get ya some food. I’ll introduce ya to Fire.”

Smiling, Hurricane turned away, motioning to Star. They quietly took off, leaving the household more full then when they’d arrived. As they flew off, Star chuckled. “I’m surprised at you, Hurricane. You never seemed like the type to dye your coat.” She motioned at the black forehoof. Hurricane sighed.

“Do I have one story to tell you, Star.”

Hours later, long after they had gone, and after the farmhouse was winding down for the night (excepting the nocturnal ialtaeg), the door creaked open and Thunder stepped out, directing a stare of startling intensity in the same direction they’d gone. “I’ll com’ find ya, Hurricane. I’ll show ya that even without wings, I won’ be left behind.”

XII

Star’s eyebrows were in a perpetual state of up. “So hang on here. You, a pegasus, somehow activated an ancient magical ring and summoned an eldritch demon into our world? Why am I not surprised?”

Hurricane sighed. “To be fair, it was already bound here. I just woke it up, I guess.”

“Yes, Hurricane, because that’s so much better.” Star snickered. “So, you have everything in those saddlebags?” Hurricane nodded and began to pull objects out, arranging it around the flickering magical candle. The first thing in her hoof was the map. She unfolded it, pointing to a general point on the map.

“We’re around here. It should be a good day or two before we cross the Gryphican border and make our way back into civilization. Oh boy, getting the gryphons to cooperate isn’t going to be easy…regardless, that’s what we’re dealing with.”

Star nodded. “So what else do you have on you?”

Hurricane nodded at the candle. “Well, there’s that, of course, and then more. Let’s see…” She once again delved into the bags, scuffling around for a moment before withdrawing a book. “Ah, here we are. This is my guide to the Far Lands, the places that lay beyond Gryphica and the Barren Sea. So few have ever been there, so this book is incredibly rare. It took a lot of convincing to get Clover to part with it in the first place.” She placed the book aside carefully.

The next item to emerge was a folded bundle of cloth which, upon further inspection, turned out to be a nondescript brown cloak. At a questioning glance, Hurricane shrugged. “You never know when you might need a cloak, Star. It’s warm and excellent for disguises.”

Finally, she rapped the armour that clung to her. “And then I have my armour and spear. That’s pretty much all, other than a few standard Equestrian bits that I have stashed on me.”

The two lapsed into a comfortable silence, staring into the heart of the flames for quite a time, before Hurricane, by contrast, started the conversation. “So, Star. What made you come after me? It’s certainly not an easy journey, after all.”

Star shuffled a moment to dispel any cold, then sighed. “I still remember when we first met, Hurricane. Do you? I was hardly old enough to join the Nimbus Army, and yet despite me being an ialtag, I was the fist you drafted to help you search for the Wind’s Heart. That search, Hurricane, that adventure—well, what am I supposed to do afterwards? I can’t just go back to normal life, guarding the Sepulcher. I couldn’t then, either. So when you left, leaving all of us behind, I decided that I wouldn’t have it.

I thought maybe you’d gone on another adventure, but I lose the Ring midway through the flight, in a heavy, heavy storm. I was blown far north, and ended up around here. So, you ask why I came across after you? Well, simply because…I couldn’t do anything else.”

Hurricane was silent, staring into the fire, for a long time before speaking. “You realize that if the Ring isn’t in Gryphica, we’re both probably going to die before we reach the other side of the Barren Sea, right?”

Star nodded and watched in delight as Hurricane’s face broke into a smile. “Well, since you’ve been here so long, I guess you can come along. But like I said in the cave…” She paused for a moment, “I’m stupid enough for both of us, so you’d better be smart.” With that parting thought, she fell to the side, onto a bed of mosses and branches that was none-to-comfortable, and quickly faded into sleep.

Star, however, remained awake.

Ialtaeg were nocturnal; simply the way of things, and though she’d trained herself to function better during the day, she would be up for a good while yet. Her catlike eyes bored into the flames as she thought deeply, with no distractions. So, Hurricane. This isn’t about the Nimbus Ring alone, oh no. You’re interesting in that circle, I can tell.

She looked at Hurricane. The pegasus was on her side, snoring like a donkey, and the map was right there next to her. Star flitted over, looking it over. If that’s Thunder and Arc’s house, and if Hurricane’s measurements were accurate, then it should be right…there. Her hoof tapped softly on the map, and she rolled up the yellowing paper, sticking it back where it was.

“Sorry, Hurricane, but I need to see this for myself,” she murmured, before softly unfolding her wings and taking off. Unbeknownst to her, as soon as she was gone, Hurricane’s eyes snapped open, and a smile formed on her face.

It took slightly longer than she thought, but eventually, Star found the ring. She was impressed; she’d thought Hurricane had been exaggerating, but the sheet of stone really was massive, and the runes were just as intricate as she’d said. She let out a low whistle as she paced around the twenty-sided shape.

Shame we lost Dusk, she thought sadly, since she was the only one well-versed in history enough to actually read Proto-Equid.

I don’t get it, though. Why isn’t it glowing like Hurricane said? Maybe if I… She lightly tapped one of the larger glyphs with a hoof, sighing when nothing happened.

“I thought I’d find you here, Star.”

The ialtag jumped as Hurricane softly touched to the ground behind her, a smile on her face. “So you want to see the dark creature? Let’s see if it wants to see me.”

She made her way over to the rune labeled Fury and poked at it with a hoof. Instantly, the carvings lit up, streaming blue light igniting the world around them. The smile on Hurricane’s face became a grimace as a small pool of complete darkness formed in the very center of the carving, slowly extruding and building itself into a shape resembling that of a pony. “Starlight Armour, meet the Dark Pony.”

XIII

The creature smiled mirthlessly at the two, then spoke in a voice a far cry from the raspy, creaking gurgle that it had previously used. It was a smooth, toneless sound, nearly hypnotic. The Dark Pony? Hmmm, I like it. So then, who is your little friend, Hurricane?

As Star looked up, Hurricane shot a quick look at her and whispered, “Don’t look into its eyes.” Nodding subtly, the ialtag tried her best to listen to Hurricane’s advice, ignoring the eyes as Hurricane stepped forwards.

“Good, you finally came out. Now you can answer my questions. First of all, who—or what—are you?” The Dark Pony chuckled, the sound sending chills up and down the pony’s spines. Who am I? It has been such a long time since I’ve had a name that I cannot remember. You may call me the Forgotten, or alternately, the Dark Pony. Hurricane growled at it. “You know full well that’s not what I meant.

Then I suppose you shall be living in confusion for quite some time, since there is no reason for me to reveal my identity to you. Its head turned to Star and she gasped for air as she made eye contact, the breath leaving her body as she was possessed by soul-wrenching terror. Flashes of unnamable colors burst like fireworks in front of her eyes. Hurricane hastily stepped in between them, cutting off the contact, and Star fell to the ground, gasping for air. The Dark Pony laughed once again, a cruel chuckle that filled the air.

It seems that she was too weak to withdraw from the fear. What a pity. I expected more from a Key-Keeper. Hurricane’s eyes narrowed.

“A what?” Yet again, the creature laughed. It seemed to find the world, and her especially, extraordinarily amusing.

Ah-ah-ah, Hurricane. What kind of enigma would I be if I went about, throwing secrets around willy-nilly? I have to keep some information to myself, you know, or else the game becomes boring.

Hurricane’s teeth ground together. Now that it spoke more like an actual pony, she found it irritating beyond words, it and its infuriating secrets. “Game? Game? What do you mean, game? This isn’t some sort of funhouse! Now tell me what I want to know!” Her hoof cracked down on the stone as she stomped forward a pace.

The thing sighed. How uncreative. With a twitch of its stolen forehoof, a blast of unholy agony seared through Hurricane, stemming from the dead-black limb. Her vision went dark as the sheer torment overloaded her senses, and the next thing she knew, she was on the ground as Star shook her.

The Dark Pony slid to the edge of the barrier, placing its hooves against the border of light, and Hurricane couldn’t help but notice that the blue one began to slip through as it spoke. I think you shall find, Hurricane, that I am the one who gives the orders here. Not you.

She groaned incoherently as it moved back to the center of the circle, turning to face her with a sardonic grin on its face. Remember, Fury, I am always watching. Do not stray from your path again.

With that, it gave vent to one more spout of laughter and began to fade, the sound becoming garbled and warped as it melted down, until it finally ceased altogether. The pain, unfortunately, did not, though it did abate some. Hurricane struggled to her hooves, turning to Star.

“Well, there you go. You’ve seen it now, Star. Did you like what you saw?”

Star’s mouth moved for a moment, but no words came out. After a beat, Hurricane dropped her gaze and sighed. “It called itself the Forgotten. Does that mean anything to you?”

The ialtag responded quietly, more so than Hurricane had ever heard. The dead, soulless eyes of the thing had certainly done a number on her. “I can’t say I’ve ever heard of something called by that name. Perhaps some of the Council Elders would know, but I’ve got no way of reaching them.” With that, she turned abruptly away, shivering slightly.

Hurricane tapped her on the shoulder. “Hey, Star. Are you alright?”

Star slowly turned back, revealing tears in her eyes. “Oh, Saros, Hurricane. Those eyes…” The tears began to flow, slowly at first, then more freely, as she began to let out choked sobs. Hurricane awkwardly hugged her, murmuring into her fluffy ear.

“It’s all over, Star. It’s over. It’s alright.”

This went on for a good few minutes before the sobs came to a shuddering halt and Star pulled away, looking gratefully at Hurricane. “Thanks,” she murmured. Hurricane nodded and star silently took off. The pegasus watched her from below, concerned, before following.

North again, as the sun rose. They’d not slept, and as the dawn broke, they yawned, one after the other. Star’s mood had improved considerably over the night, leading to a few conversations, and they’d decided to head north until they reached the nearest gryphon settlement, a small village called Mjors, and rest there before continuing. It would be quite the long flight to make in one day, but they were confident they could make it.

After a period of silence, Star turned to Hurricane. “Hey, Hurricane. What did the Forgotten mean when it said to ‘not stray from your path’?”

Hurricane remained silent for a moment, thinking, before speaking. “I think that for some reason, it wants me to keep going north. Maybe there’s something up there that it wants, I can’t really say. Even so, whatever it wants, I won’t let it have its way. I promise you that.”

Star nodded, then faced forward again, accelerating and leaving Hurricane a short ways behind. She turned to the sunrise, smiling faintly, then sped up, joining the ialtag in the perpetual flight north.

XIV

“So, that’s Mjors? Little bit taller than I expected.”

Such was Hurricane’s comment. It wasn’t that the village itself was tall, no. It was, however, built into the side of a mountain. Rather unconventional, yes, but both flying ponies could certainly see how that would be useful in case of an invasion. It seemed that the gryphons’ reputation for being experienced in war wasn’t unfounded. They touched down on a stone plaza in the middle, which appeared to be a market. The first to notice them responded in a way that…rather confused them. He—it seemed to be a male, both by physique and voice—placed his head in a talon and groaned. “Oh for the love of the Ravenlord…they have wings now?”

Hurricane cocked her head in confusion. Then she felt a sharp pain in her flank and turned, stumbling backwards a few paces upon seeing the heavily-armoured soldier with a razor-keen sword pointed at her, a little bit of blood coating the tip. In one quick, fluid motion, her spear was in her hoof. Still, she couldn’t keep up with Star. She’d had her knives in her hooves the instant she’d seen what happened to Hurricane.

The gryphon’s eyes narrowed and it began to very deliberately move towards her, his talons and claws making a pronounced click on each impact with the stone. His beak was set in a hard, straight line. More of the heavily armoured gryphons began to emerge, all of them converging on her with the same intensity. Her nervous eyes flicked around, and she eventually realized that there was no way she could fight them all. She would be hard-pressed against one, if their fighting prowess wasn’t exaggerated. Twenty? She would be dead in seconds.

For the first time, the first guard spoke. His voice was low, gravelly and cold, like stones grinding on ice. “Why are you here, little horses?”

Hurricane stepped forwards, hoping that Star would keep a level head. “We’ve come to stop for a brief moment. Our journey takes us far to the north, and we need a place to rest, and hopefully obtain some rations.”

The gryphon glared pointedly at her for a moment, then broke the eye contact, motioning to his fellow soldiers. “Put up your spears, boys. They seem fragile enough to be harmless.” Hurricane grumbled, but made no protest. The gryphon turned back to her, his beak still firm. “If you want lodging, then you’ll get it. You’ll have a pair of guards outside of your door, and outside of each window, at all times. You may find something in the marketplace to eat on the way to your quarters, but I doubt we’ll have anything for you. We eat meat, not grass. Follow me.”

He led them through the small village, which was really more of a town, until they reached a long, low building, hewn directly into the wall of the mountain. Opening the door, he ushered them inside. The boisterous atmosphere of the inn instantly silenced itself, and despite herself, Hurricane began to feel rather out of place. The hostile stares that were directed at them were more than enough to ensure that.

As they made their way into a hallway off to the side, the noise resumed, albeit a bit more muted, and they ended up standing in front of a solid door, carved of a dark, solid oak wood. Once more, the gryphon held the door open, and once more, they entered. The room was comfortable enough, with two beds, a large, empty shelf and a washbasin. As the door began to close, Hurricane hurriedly turned. “Hey, um…what’s your name?”

He eyed her for a moment before responding. “I’m Asger. And you?” Grateful for the brief bit of conversation, she replied much more quickly. “I’m Hurricane, and the ialtag over there is Star.” He tilted his head, curious.

“Ial…tag? What’s that, then?”

Hurricane opened her mouth, but Star moved over to the door, cutting her off. “We’re a kind of pony, sort of like a pegasus. Only difference is, we’ve got bat wings. We can also see a lot better.” She chuckled. “I imagine you know how that feels?”

Despite himself, the gryphon laughed, his own slightly slitted eyes glinting in the ambient light. “Yes, I believe I would. I’ll be taking my leave now.” He turned, closing the door gently. There was a click, and when Star moved to try it, it refused to open. The two faced each other for several seconds, gulping simultaneously. Hurricane broke the silence. “I’m not sure if we’re guests here, or prisoners.”

Star shrugged, looking around the room again. “Eh, it seems fine to me. As long as we can get refueled tonight and get going tomorrow, I’ll be a happy pony. Rations would be nice, but that would be too good to be true. As for now, let’s just take it easy.”

A few hours later, she was ready to climb the walls. She moaned, banging her head gently on the stone. “Ughhhh. Forget what I said about taking it easy. I’m about to explode.” Hurricane nodded distractedly and tried the door for perhaps the twentieth time. Unsurprisingly, it was still locked.

She sighed, flopping down on one of the beds. “It’s really not that bad, Star. By the King, you sound like you’re about to die.”

Star chuckled unhappily. “I’m sure that any of those gryphons out there would be happy to oblige me. Tell me again why I let you talk me into this?”

Hurricane yawned. “We needed somewhere to rest up before we have to start really flying hard. There isn’t much hospitable land between here and the Barren Sea, and there’s nothing but a few icy islands once we start the crossing. I’d say it was an easy trade.”

BANG

The door slammed open at high speeds and both mares jumped. Asger stood there, his face grim. His voice was rough, rage evident in every carefully-restrained movement. “I’m going to need you two to come with me.”

Star trotted over to him. “Why? What happened?”

He turned sharply, glaring fiercely at her. “One of the most important gryphons in our village was murdered. You’re the only new creatures to come to Mjors in nearly ten years, and the healers have put the time of death at only a few minutes before you arrived. Now come with me peacefully and don’t make a scene, or I might have to beat a confession out of you!”

Star stared hard at Hurricane, who dropped her head into her hooves. “Okay, fine. You win. We really shouldn’t have come here.”

XV

Star and Hurricane were briefly stunned into silence, the enormity of the statement hitting them like a javelin from on high. Star recovered first, diving for the window. It shattered with an almighty crash and she darted off into the darkness of the mountain tunnels, pursued by a pair of gryphons.

As Hurricane dashed forward to break past Asger, spear in hoof, two more gryphons stepped out from behind the doorframe and she screeched to a stop. Asger took it as an opportunity, and he gripped the spear’s haft tightly, tearing it from her grip. Unarmed, she stood before them, unsure of what to do. She had little choice; in just a moment, Asger had surged forward with speed to rival hers and seized her by the neck with a single talon, effectively cutting off her air. His eyes bored coldly into hers. “As I said, Hurricane, you’ll be coming with me.”

Not being able to do much else, in less than a minute the pegasus choked out a strangled acquiescence and nodded. She was released instantly and fell to the ground, gasping for breath. The large gryphon nodded to his companions. “Take her. Bring the spear to Hroki and take her to a cell while the Testing Chamber is prepared.” Wasting no time, they bound Hurricane’s wings to her sides with strong rope and proceeded to lead her through the main room of the inn. They ignored the thrown hunks of meat and the loud yells of rage, half-dragging her from the building and out into the bright sunlight.

Wasting no time, they turned instantly, headed towards the tunnels, diving into the dim torchlight. An idea began to sprout in Hurricane’s mind, but it was dashed as Star bolted out in front of her, quickly followed by the gryphons. Evidently, their stamina managed to defeat her speed, and she was bound instantly in similar fashion to Hurricane and moved in beside her.

A few sharp turns brought them to a long hallway, filled with iron doors. Asger shoved a heavy iron key into a lock and turned it, stepping back as the door creaked open. He turned and shoved the ponies in, Hurricane first, then Star. He closed and locked the door, growling through the small, barred window. “Some guards will be back for you shortly. You’d best prepare yourself.” Finished, he turned sharply and stalked out of the ponies line of sight, leaving them to worry about what he meant. What were they supposed to be preparing for?

Hurricane wasn’t particularly intelligent. There was nothing about her that gave off the air of a scholar, and that’s how she preferred it. That being said, she certainly wasn’t stupid. She had a finely honed level of common sense that was seldom matched.

It didn’t take that to realize how absolutely screwed she and Star were.

After a small collection of warriors had taken them from their prison cell, they'd confiscated Star's knives and brought them to a torchlit cavern carved deeply into the mountain: the Testing Chamber. It was almost like the Cloudosseum from the Nimbus Ring in construction, but smaller, and obviously made from stone instead of clouds. They were surrounded by a crowd of perhaps fifty gryphons that really wanted their blood, completely outnumbered and, though Hurricane was loath to admit it, possibly outclassed. The Gryphonic society was entirely centered on war, after all. Swearing viciously in her head, she attempted to defend her case, but her words were drowned by the jeering crowd that rested in the stands. She looked helplessly at Star, then narrowed her eyes. The ialtag was shaking like a leaf, looking around wide-eyed like she’d seen a ghost. Hurricane leaned over, speaking into her ear. “What is it, Star? Do you know what this place is?”

Star nodded, replying hesitantly. “It’s called a…Colosseum, if memory serves. I saw one once, when I snuck into Gryphica to try to find some food. They…” she swallowed, her throat dry. “They make creatures, usually ponies, fight to the death against their greatest warriors. It’s sometimes for sport, but usually, it’s for justice. This is how they solve crime.”

It was then that it sank into Hurricane how absolutely, truly, amazingly screwed she and Star really were. She didn’t have any time to dwell on it, though, because the crowd fell silent as a door opened on the other side of the arena. Asger walked out, flanked by a pair of smaller gryphons, who each carried a piece of battle gear. The one on his right carried a sword. On his left, a small buckler shield. He was in full armour.

A loud voice rang out from the stands. “Would the little horse called Hurricane stand forth?” Grumbling at being called a horse, the pegasus did so, tracing the voice to a rather elderly gryphon who sat directly above Asger’s door. He thrust a talon forward and a gleaming point of light hurtled towards Hurricane. She sidestepped as her spear slammed point-first into the hard-packed soil floor. She briefly wondered how long it took to carry enough dirt up here to cover the floor in that much, but quickly discarded the idea. There were more important things to focus on, like escaping from this alive.

The same old gryphon stood and spoke again, his voice grave and exaggerated. “Thusly, the trial of combat begins, with Asger serving as champion of the gryphons and Hurricane, of the ponies. If Asger wins, then Hurricane and her companion are guilty, and they pay the ultimate price. If Hurricane is the victor,” a brief smattering of derisive laughter burst from the crowd at that, “then she and Starlight Armour are innocent and will be free to go. All doors to the Testing Chamber are sealed so that none may leave until this ends. Do you both agree to the terms?”

Asger nodded, taking the sword and shield as his attendants scurried back through the door, which closed with an ominous thud. "I do, Hroki." He was followed shortly by Hurricane as she tore the spear from the ground and slashed off her wing-bindings with the razorlike blade. The aged creature sat heavily back upon his seat, his voice like the tolling of a funeral bell:

“Then in the sight of the Ravenlord, let the challenge begin.”

The stallion grunted as he forced his way through the densely-packed tree trunks. His hilt of the sword slung on his back caught on low-hanging branches, slowing him down dramatically as he narrowed his eyes in irritation. Days had gone by, and still the forest encircled him. For the tenth time that morning, he looked at the sky, ascertaining that he was still headed north.

In that brief period of time, he walked into a branch.

There was a nearly audible snap, and his eyes glinted in anger. His horn ignited in cerulean light and the blade slid free of its sheath, revealing its tremendous size. It was nearly as long as he and weighed over four kilos, shearing through the offending limb with ease. He smiled grimly as he began moving forward again, much faster this time. Instead of brushing the limbs and twigs out of the way, he simply cleared a path, the massive sword cleaving small trees with ease. Hours went by, and fit as he was, the stallion’s yellow coat was streaked with sweat, his dark blue mane matted to his forehead. Just as he was tiring, a clearing opened itself up in front of him. Chest heaving, he grinned. A rock outcrop was evident in front of him and he lay down heavily, propping his head against it and leaning his sword next to him.

Minutes passed and the forest grew louder as he lay there listening, staring at the canopy above him. The sun splashed through in tranquil droplets, casting the ground in dappled light, shaking with the wind and occasionally interrupted by a bird flitting through the high trees.

From the rough canvas saddlebags that lay beside him, he withdrew a canteen. Magically unscrewing the lid, he extracted a ball of water, letting it hover in the air a moment. Looking through the lens, he could see the forest in a new light, trees twisting and light shimmering unnaturally. Beneath the small sphere, the sunlight condensed and then scattering, casting a rainbow of light onto the ground. The prismatic shine was hypnotizing, and his eyes settled on it for close to an hour. Then he funneled the water into his mouth—no point wasting it—and recapped the container, standing up and reclaiming his sword. Turning once again, he could see mountains in the north, looming in the far distance. His trained eye estimated the distance at perhaps a week of quick walking. If he could keep up a trot for any length of time, he might make four or five days. He swallowed and raised his head, traveling onwards with his sword whirling in the air like a gleaming circle of steel.

As he left the clearing, nothing had truly changed. The light from the canopy dappled on the forest floor, the green shade beneath the leaves starkly outlined by the brilliant sun. The stone remained solid, unshakeable, a gray-black bastion of the forest. The birds quieted their songs, and the little world of the clearing was enveloped in silence once more.

Facing north, Thunder moved on.

XVI

The otherwise silent arena rang with the clash of steel on steel. Even with all of her skill, Hurricane simply couldn’t penetrate Asger’s unbreakable defense. For her part, though, she was far too agile to take any serious injuries. She’d been hit backhand in the jaw with the shield once, but that was all.

They were currently locked in close quarters. Asger knew that the spear gave Hurricane an advantage in range, so he constantly aimed to close the gap, lunging for her with savage chopping strikes powerful enough to decapitate her if they found their mark. She couldn’t strike back, simply because of his fighting style; he used his sword like a berserker, hacking and cutting with reckless abandon and no precaution. However, his shield was constantly held in close. At the first sign of an attack, the small wood-and-metal disk would catch it, rendering it harmless. The attacker would be left open for a few seconds, and with Asger’s level of skill, that meant goodbye pegasus. At the moment, Hurricane was concentrating on dodging. She was confident that, with full armor and a longsword, she could keep fighting for far longer, wearing the poor guy down until she could close in for a strike. And in any other battle, that strategy would’ve worked. She could even defeat the supernaturally resilient earth ponies with that strategy.

Unfortunately for her, she was fighting a gryphon, not an earth pony.

As the fight drew on and her breath began to come faster and harder, she was astonished by her opponent’s state. Maybe it was the feathers, but he hadn’t even broken a sweat, as far as she could tell. The tempo of his blows was perfect, precisely in line with the beginning of the battle, and his stance was firm and unbreakable, rooted solidly in the ground.

As that thought passed through her head, she smiled wickedly. Flaring her wings and crouching low, she exploded upwards, careening into the air in the great cavern. A scoffing laughter came from the gryphon below. “What’s the matter, little horse? Too tired to fight me on level ground? Wish you were stargazing instead of fighting?”

Hurricane growled. “You’re the one who’ll be seeing stars by the time I’m done with you!” She hovered for a moment, then tilted downwards, flapping her wings a few times to gain speed, and dropped like a stone, diving at Asger with incredible speed, spear held out to impale. Laughing in derision, the gryphon held up his buckler to block the strike.

She struck with tremendous force, the spearhead driving through the shield and smashing it in half. The iron bands could only do so much, after all, since they only ran up and down. The sheer speed behind Hurricane forced Asger back several paces, his beak set in an angry grimace. She tore the spear through the shield, twisting in the air to avoid a sword swipe, darted away, ascending into the air once more.

Asger cast one look at his shield and knew it was a lost cause. Discarding it, he narrowed his eyes in anger and unfurled his enormous wings. Easily twice the span of Hurricane’s, they were a deep brown speckled with white. Flapping them heavily a few times, he rose almost effortlessly to Hurricane’s altitude. The pegasus grinned sardonically at him. “What’s the matter, little birdie? Too tired to hold your shield? Wish you were eating birdseed instead of fighting?”

With a roar of anger, Asger flung himself forwards. Hurricane was startled for a moment. It was such a drastic contrast to his previously cool-headed attitude that she lost that precious second. Only a last-second twist to catch the blow on her armour saved her from having her head lopped off. She chuckled awkwardly. “Yeah, I’m not staying within leg’s reach. Later.” With that, she dove sharply and flew beneath him, needling him in the back paw with her spear before flicking her wings and flashing to the other side of the arena. Interesting. When I mentioned birds, he completely flipped out. If I hadn’t been so surprised, I would’ve been able to capitalize on those glaring gaps in his defense. Hmmmmm… He’d slowed down again, regaining his methodical approach. Little droplets of redness slowly ran down his paw, marking the first blood. She spared a moment to grin. And they thought ponies couldn’t fight.

“I thought you were supposed to be the champion! Why are you so slow, you buzzard?”

It didn’t go quite as before.

His eyes, instead of burning with rage, had chilled to absolutely frigid, and his voice had followed suit. “This is a fight, not a flyte. If you wanted to bandy words, you should’ve stayed with the rest of your kind’s useless females.” The pegasus growled at him, darting forward to stab at him from a safe distance. She didn't bargain on him being so quick. With a single beat of his wings, he tore through the air at her, delivering a stunning strike to her face with his left talon before she could react. His blade hissed through the air in a powerful downward stroke, more of a bludgeon than a slash.

Her reaction time dulled by the punch, she could barely raised her spear to block it. Bracing it in two hooves, she strained against the downwards force of the longsword. Her wings beat so fast they nearly hummed and she slowly began to rise, the sheer force behind her flight ramming her forcefully upwards. She drew level with Asger and their eyes met, the first real hint of fear touching his. He backed furiously with his wings, retreating to a far corner as Hurricane shot up to the ceiling, staring down on him with...a smile on her face?

She was laughing, loudly and powerfully, her pegasus blood roused. They were, after all, raised as warriors for a very long time. She dove once more, down, no longer letting gravity take hold, but actively moving straight for him. Abandoning all strategy, she blasted forwards, letting her instinct take over and placing her trust in her overwhelming speed. She wasn't let down.

Gryphon combat, though barbaric to outsiders, was actually quite complex, almost entirely centric on exploiting weaknesses. By careful observation of the opponent, the apex of their skills could be measured, and then carefully-planned, calculated strikes could slice through any kind of defense. So, when Hurricane came at him faster than he’d ever seen anything move in his life, Asger had no counter to speak of. The point of the spear smashed into him just above his left wing joint and he gasped in pain, falling on his back hard to the ground beneath him as his wing gave out. There was a booming sound as Hurricane landed, the point of her spear centered on his throat, flames dancing in her eyes. Asger shivered, breaking eye contact by closing his eyes and preparing for the end.

The end refused to come.

His eyes flicked open and he turned his head, watching incredulously as Hurricane walked over to Star.

All of sudden, the voice of the elderly gryphon Hroki rang out from his high seat. “The Ravenlord has spoken. Hurricane and her companion are innocent. Now, Champion, the loser forfeits his life. Kill him.”

Only one word came from the pony’s mouth as she turned to face him, face suddenly set in an angry snarl. “No.”

The crowd, which had been silent since she’d grounded Asger, began to murmur among themselves. Hroki, sensing himself losing their attention, simply kept talking. “You must. If you wish to spare his life, then that is noble, but it cannot—“

“I’m not doing it for him!” Hurricane exploded. “I’m not doing it for any of you! I’m doing it for myself! Do you have any idea how many I’ve killed? Too many, and I’m not about to add one more to the list because I lost control!”

She turned sharply, marching stiffly over a guard who wisely gave up Star’s knives without protest. She hoofed them to Star, who shrank back slightly, then made to leave. The door creaked open.

“Hurricane?”

The pegasus, still walking, cast a glance over her shoulder. It was Star who had spoken. “I’ve been thinking…that gryphon that was murdered, the one that started this whole mess. If we didn't kill him, then who did?

Hurricane stopped, a thoughtful expression flowing over her face as her anger vanished like it had never been there. “That’s...a really good question, actually."

Star's tone was that of curiosity and mischief. "So, what would you say to staying another night here?" Hurricane shrugged and turned back ahead, continuing on her path.

“I’ll meet you back at the inn. And call me crazy, but after this fight, I don’t think we’ll be getting disrespected quite as much anymore.”

XVII

Whoever had come up with the gryphon drink uisge, Hurricane hated them with a burning passion.

She also hated Star.

The ialtag had, in all of her infinite wisdom, decided to go up against a fully-grown male gryphon in a drinking contest. Unbelievably, she’d matched him drink for drink until he finally collapsed, half unconscious, in a pool of his own vomit. Star enjoyed her victory for all of a few seconds before she’d followed suit with twice as much unconsciousness and none of the vomit. In other words, Hurricane was obligated to half-carry, half-drag the pony back into their room, tossing her unceremoniously in her bed.

Hurricane had to admit that she occasionally liked her drinking. When she was a lieutenant, she’d drank herself into oblivion her share of times, waking up on her bunk (and once on military suspension). Still, those instances were generally when she’d returned from a campaign or a particularly stressful skirmish. If anypony should’ve lusted after the drink after she fought Asger, it was her, and if she was honest, she did have a mug or two. Still, ale was far weaker than the paint-stripper that they called a drink.

Gazing out the window, she began to entertain some deeper thoughts. What mostly came to mind, unsurprisingly, were the events from the past few days, and one in particular. Though she tried her best to not show it, she was still heavily concerned about the Forgotten’s little hoof-switch trick. As she cast her eyes down over her black hoof, her breath hitched and her eyes widened in horrified surprise.

It wasn’t just the hoof anymore.

Nearly her entire foreleg was entirely consumed with blackness. Any sense of normalcy and security she’d developed was instantaneously shattered. Suddenly, the room seemed just a little bit too small. Her eyes bounced frantically from wall to wall until she bolted to the window, taking to the sky through the shattered glass.

The night air was far colder than what she was used to, snowflakes flurrying around her as she spiraled up through the blackness. Mjors was just a speck of light beneath her when she stopped, nearly invisible through the driving snow. As her lungs heaved, the frigid air stung her throat, making its way through her in a path of ice. Gradually, her breathing calmed, and she forced the buzzing in her head to stop and just thought.

So my leg is turning black, meaning that the Forgotten’s leg is going to turn blue. What exactly does that mean? Nothing. It’s an interesting fashion statement, but who cares? It’s nothing important.

Still, she had a bit of trouble convincing herself. She continued her flight for more than an hour more, until she started to go numb in earnest from the cold. She dipped down, diving at a gentle incline in broad, sweeping circles, spiraling down towards the village below.

Star woke up alone, shivering. The shattered, unboarded window did nothing to keep out the freezing air, and the thick blanket was useless when she was lying on top of it. That was the last thing on her mind, however; the first thing on her mind was the sheer pain in her head. She vaguely remembered a gryphon approaching her with a glass of amber-colored liquid and, slurring his words, challenged her to a drinking contest. She remembered the harsh bite of the powerful liquor as it burned its way down her throat, and past that, nothing. She groaned, rolling out of the bed and onto the floor, which only served to worsen the ache. It had been a while since she’d had anything to drink at all, to say nothing of that much of something that strong.

“Ughh…I think I would’ve rather fought Asger…”

“So I’m not as strong as a little bit of uisge? I’m insulted,” a voice chuckled from the entrance of the room. Star flopped over to see the gryphon in question standing there. His wing was wrapped in clean white linen, bound tightly to his side. His sword was strapped up on his back in easy reach of a talon. Past the amused smile on his face, she could definitely see some pain.

It was quite a challenge for her, but Star finally managed to obtain a standing position. It was a wonder she could even do that; in the past, less than that much alcohol had rendered her comatose for close to a day.

Asger sighed, the smile dropping from his face. “I wish you hadn't had to go through all that. It made sense at the time, but still…we threatened you with death. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

Star managed to speak with reasonable acuity around the lump of leather in her mouth that was her tongue, considering the state of her head. “Dun’ ‘pologize t’ me. ‘Pologize t’ Hurcane.”

“What about me?” Hurricane swooped in through the window, landing on the stones with a loud clop. Asger jumped, startled for a moment, then coughed, smoothing out his feathers nervously.

“I wanted to apologize. Not only for myself, but for my village as a whole.” The pegasus airily waved a hoof that was curiously black. Asger noted this with some interest, but refrained from asking her about it; perhaps is was some kind of pony custom among these feathered sorts to dye parts of their bodies?

“Don’t worry about it, Asger. You’ve learned your lesson, I’d imagine. I’d hate to be you right now. Do you know how long you’ll be grounded for?” Asger winced as she brought it up, but then sighed and dipped his head. It was his own fault, after all.

“It should be a few weeks, maybe a month at most, until I’m back to full. I should be flying, albeit gently, in a week or so.” Hurricane nodded, smiling at him, then turned to Star.

“Star, you’re drunk. Get back in bed.”

The hungover pony needed no further urging and collapsed once more. Hurricane stood over her, chuckling, as Asger walked up to her, standing beside her and looking down at Star in the same way. “You two are quite close, aren’t you?”

A smile came to Hurricane’s face. “I’ve known her since I was very little. We were separated for a long time, but somehow we found each other. It’s amazing.” She took one last, long look, and pulled the cover over the already-asleep ialtag before moving over to her own bed, jumping in and crawling under her own covers. “I don’t tell her enough how important she is to me. Well, good night, Asger.”

The gryphon stood for a moment before replying in a small voice, “Good night.” With a faint click, the door opened and closed, and the room was silent. The two companions slept once more.

XVIII

Panting, Thunder continued to hack his way through the thick forest. The unyielding trunks had grown thicker and denser, towering above him and nearly blotting out the sun with fluid green shades that blurred in the breeze. He’d made it a good few kilometers, enough to call it a day on this kind of terrain. Still he refused to cease, doggedly pushing his way through the undergrowth towards the north.

Ding

The sound was so utterly unexpected that he nearly fell over. His ears twitched as he searched for the origin of the mysterious noise, an almost chime-like ringing. It had faded as quickly as it had appeared, though, and nothing could be seen or heard that was out of the ordinary of the forest. Somewhat cautiously, Thunder once more slashed his way through the woods, a bit slower this time. A trail of severed branches and snapped twigs stretched behind him for miles. His ears panned around as he went, constantly searching for the elusive sound. Unfortunately, there was nothing. No sounds, no sights; the forest had seemingly returned to normal.

Ding

Temper flaring, Thunder whipped around, teeth bared in a snarl. Casting one last angry glance at the mountains ahead of him, he stomped off towards the east, which, as best as he could tell, was the source of the noise. As he went, the forest grew denser, if possible. It reached a moment when the trees were so tightly packed it was a wonder that they were even still alive; he could barely slide between them. Whirling his claymore about him in broad, sweeping arcs, he shredded anything that blocked his path. The only things that could stop or redirect him were full-sized trees. Finally, in front of him loomed what looked like a solid wall of trees that extended away from him in a gentle curve. From almost directly beyond it, there came a sound:

Ding

Wearing a nearly predatory grin, Thunder paced along the wall. It curved around in a full circle, sporting a heavy wooden door, many times the stallion’s height, on the opposite side. Calming himself down, he breathed deeply several times, then readied his sword, preparing for whatever may lie beyond as he knocked on the gate.

“Please, do come in!”

Whatever he expected, that wasn’t it.

Cautiously, he nudged the huge wooden construct out of the way, revealing a sunlit clearing with a perfect view of the sky. Any branches that may have obstructed the light had been sliced away, presumably to make the small shack that stood just to his right. In the center of the clearing sat…a pony.

She was a young earth pony mare, but old enough to be fully grown, looking up with a small smile on her muzzle. There wasn’t really anything around her; she seemed to simply be staring at the sky. Thunder slowly trotted up to her, curious. “…Hello there.”

The faint smile remained on her face and she refused to turn her head, still simply staring at the sky. “Hello I bid to you. What your name be, pony of yellow?” Thunder jolted somewhat. He would’ve been willing to bet that he was too far outside of her line of sight to be seen. Before he could respond, she chuckled, a low, melodic sound. “Ah, your thoughts I see like the yellow. Things I see that I shouldn’t. Put off you should not be.”

The stallion walked closer somewhat warily, but responded to her original question. “M' name is Thunderbird. Most ponies call me Thunder, though.”

The mare nodded slightly. “Yesss. The skies told me you would come, they did. They tell that I am to speak with you. Sky Watcher, the only title that I have known is.” It took Thunder a moment to parse her odd speech, and quite honestly, it left him with more questions than answers.

“Th' skies? Ya said that th' skies told ya?”

She nodded slowly. “The skies, yes. The skies I watch, for they have no other watchers. You travel to the Cold Lands, they say. Into the curtains of the snow-shine. They say you search for the Hurricane.”

Thunder jolted. How could she possibly know that? Sky Watcher smiled wider, finally dropping her white head from the sky. Her eyes met his and their brilliance struck him, the same color as her mane. It was a sharp, icy blue, the color of the sky at dawn. They flashed in the light, the sun shimmering in them, and she continued. “Told you did I, the skies speak at me. All about you is told to me. Your wife I see, and your daughter too, little Fire.”

He began to feel slightly irritated, almost threatened, and his voice dropped to a growl. “An' wha’s that supposed ta mean? Ya stay away from me family!” The white pony laughed lightly.

“Sorry I am. Nothing like that I intended. Please, forgiveness grant me. Simply meant I to convince you that speak to me the skies do.”

Ding

The sound returned, this time resounding all around Thunder. It was truly loud in the confined space. The smile dropped from Sky’s face as her face snapped back up to the sky. Thunder frowned.

“I’ve been hearin' that sound since th' morning, when I reached the denser parts of the forest. What is it?”

Ding

Sky stiffened and stopped moving. She didn’t merely stand in one place; she completely froze. Her chest stilled, breath gone. Her eyes pulsed with intense white light that diffused around the clearing.

Minutes later, with a third Ding, the brilliance dimmed away, leaving her eyes normal once more. She exhaled shakily. “Forgive me. The sky requested me to attend it. That sound heard by you is the sky for me asking to listen.”

Thunder stared, slack-jawed. I truly did she was crazy, but it looks like something really does speak to her. Just who is Sky Watcher?

XIX

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XX

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i

Many ages ago, before the three Tribes were united and such things became less necessary, the greatest military force in the world was the pegasi. While the unicorns had their magic, enough to raise the sun and moon, and the earth ponies had strength enough to kill with their bare hooves, the ponies of the air preferred the weapons of steel; spears, swords and bows to cut and pierce those who dared lift a hoof against the mighty Nimbus Army. They were revered when the Tribes allied against a common foe. They were respected when the Tribes lived in balance. When the tribes went to war, they were feared. No matter what state the Tribes were in, though, the sovereign state of Nimbus Ring held firm.

At the head of the Nimbus Army stood the five Valkyries. Proud in battle, fierce and strong, they answered to nothing and nopony but the King himself. Once Equestria was formed, of course, the army was dissolved into nothingness and the Valkyries dispersed into the ponies, lifting their spears to the sky and hoping for peace.

All, that is, save one.

The eldest Valkyrie was not so quick to give up everything she had achieved, all the honor she had won. She refused to accept the friendship of the earth ponies and unicorns Instead of settling to life, she slew the old King and usurped control of the flying fortress of the Nimbus Ring, taking it far out of Equestria’s airspace and into lands that only myths know of. The rest of the Valkyries mourned her betrayal and the loss of her company, then moved on.

Again, all save one.

The youngest of the Valkyries, a mare named Hurricane, would not so easily let her comrade-in-arms vanish after all they had been through together. So, gathering her now-rusted spear and donning her faded combat armor, she left in the night, following the path of the Nimbus Ring, far into the north.

This is her story.