Chapter One

Lightning flashed across the sky as rain poured down over the quiet city of Canterlot. To an outsider, it appeared subdued; its numerous citizens huddled together in their homes as the sky high above seemed to come to life with sound and light. Thunderstorms were nothing new to the citizens of Equestria, but this was no ordinary gale. It carried sounds that were not meant for the ears of mere mortals, sounds so ghastly and profane that they filled the soul with an unearthly dread. None dared to venture forth from their homes, for it was not only the elements that stood to bring harm to them, should they do so, but other things, things far fouler and more terrifying than a mere storm.

The Gates of Tartarus had been opened once more, by no less than an apocalyptic clash of rival demonic forces. These two armies, factions serving masters unknown to the outside world, met in that terrible realm to wrestle control of the gate from those who stood guard over it. As soon as the hold of the old guardians had been wrested away by force, and with the gates thrown open in the resulting chaos, these two forces turned on one another, seeking to decide who should control them. The battle was long and fierce, and by the time the forces of the guardians had rallied to retake the gates, the two demonic forces had all but vanquished one another. So it was with great haste that the guardians closed the gates, but the damage was already done.

All manner of creature, be they fair or foul, demon or beast, villain or monster, were released from all the differing realms of that place, be they from the peaceful fields of Elysium, the plains of Hades, or the hellish pit of Tartarus, itself. All manner of spirits burst forth, seeking out the dark corners of the world in which they could fester, grow, and spread; countless dark creatures made homes in the forgotten and unseen realms of the world. Many creatures long driven from the world of man returned, often in full force, easily carving out sections of forests, mountains and seas as their own once more. It had been an age since the Gates of Tartarus had indeed been open, but they had never been open for so long, and it showed.

Almost overnight, things began to creep in from these dark corners. Some were harmless, simply seeking to live out their lives as best they could. Others were strange, unholy beasts, many of which held little, if any, love in their hearts for the likes of man. It started simply enough, with the occasional villager gone missing, only for their remains to be found much later, often in places most would not suspect. Sometimes children, sometimes the elderly, sometimes young men and women in their prime; it did not seem to matter much, as many could have been written off as accidents.

Then things began to get worse. Merchants would go missing, their entire caravans disappearing along trade routes that’ve been long safe from weather and bandit alike. Villagers being snatched from their homes or their farm fields by often unseen terrors, with witnesses few and far between. Scores of men coming in from outposts both small and large, ranting about terrible creatures having taken over watchtowers, lighthouses, distilleries, mines and countless other places. Soon enough, armed guards were posted at every city, and militia were trained to protect their towns as best they could, but things did not improve.

Then word began to creep in from the brave few who ventured into the country. Their neighboring kingdoms, longtime trade partners and political allies, were suffering these maladies as well. Borders were closed in an attempt to halt the spread of this darkness, but it was futile, and thus trade and prosperity declined rapidly. Smaller hamlets and towns were often completely abandoned for the apparent safety of larger cities, thus depriving the countryside of much of its farms and their produce. Prices began to rise while supply dropped, and everybody began to suffer from shortages of once plentiful materials, be they food, clothes or household supplies. Few dared to brave the forests, once a place of tranquility and source of bountiful resources, now a festering frontier, unknown and so very dangerous. Fewer still ventured out into the night, often heavily armed and in great numbers when the need arose.

High in the two towers of Canterlot Castle, the princesses of Equestria could not just stand by and watch their kingdom fall apart. It was becoming harder and harder to hold the lands together, to prevent fear and hunger from giving rise to chaos and starvation. The lines of communication between their neighbors had been all but cut by the increasingly-dangerous roads, and they too were suffering from the same maladies, too much so to send aid. For now, it seemed, they were on their own, and for how long that would be, none knew.

In the throne room, above a large map table that showed the entirety of their nation, Princess Celestia blinked in the dim candlelight at her sister. “This cannot go on,” she said, one of her hands tracing the written border between Equestria and Griffonia. Yesterday, she had been informed that the king had declared martial law, and that all of his citizens retreat to the larger cities, practically abandoning the frontier settlements so recently put into place. His forces were large enough to hold back this darkness, but only around the larger settlements, so for now, whatever farmland that his people began to carve out of the forests, they did so only nearest the largest cities, and at the expense of the good soil they were forced to leave behind. To Celestia, it was madness that any of this had happened, and right now, she feared things would get only worse for all involved. “Our kingdom is suffering, sister, and I fear it will only continue to grow.”

“Agreed,” Princess Luna replied. “Our nation has endured strife and toil before, but this is unlike anything. This is not a simple war that can be won by a few decisive battles, by the spilling of the blood of several thousand men. This is a war for survival against nature itself, and I am afraid it is not one a war we are ready for, that we were never ready for.”

“Indeed,” her sister replied, the elder woman standing firm as the wind whipped around their castle. Even with it built centuries before, and with the best materials possible, their castle held little latent heat in the colder times of the year, and so, even now, during the midst of a late spring, there were fires blazing in the lower halls, to keep the guards and servants warm whilst they slept. “Have you given thought to my proposal before the council? I cannot and will not press the matter without your support.”

“The Law of Bounties?” Luna asked. “Yes, Celestia, I have given it much thought since the meeting, but not without also considering the risks. Our coffers are still full, yes, but for how long after such a law is put into effect? Our economy is suffering, as are the people, and if this becomes the law of the land, I fear the worst.” There was no need to talk about the true state of the royal treasury. Whilst still as full as ever, it would not be long before they had to start shelling it out to simply help the populace pay for their daily bread, lest starvation and worse begin to set in.

“What could be worse than this?” Celestia asked. “Sister, like you said, our people are suffering, and I fear for the safety of everyone in this kingdom. This law would put into place a price for the parts of these creatures, be it their skins, their bones, or whatever else could be of worth. By eliminating many of these creatures, we could rid our lands of them and bring peace and prosperity back once more. Also, by doing so, naturally some of our hunters would cross over into the lands of our allies, and perhaps help to alleviate their own problems. To not act now would only extend their suffering, our suffering, and that is something I cannot abide by.”

“I fear it will simply trade our suffering for another kind,” the younger princess said. “The price of greed is a high one, sister, and if we put bounties on these monsters, these demons, these... beasts, there is no telling how the populace will react in the long run. It will be on my conscience that countless young folk will go off to hunt these beasts, likely at the cost of some of their lives, in order to feed their families. Then there is the possibility of there being fights over “hunting grounds” for these creatures, and whatever else such bounty hunting might make apparent, such as black markets and a sense of lawlessness in the more isolated areas of the kingdom.”

“My conscience would feel the same burden as your own on such matters,” the older princess sighed. “It is a risk we must take, for I feel the sickness that plagues our kingdom’s prosperity will only become more entrenched if we do not take action immediately. Even if bad comes of this well-intentioned law, I feel that in the long run we will emerge the better for it as a nation.”

Luna sighed, knowing deep down that her sister was right. The good of the many outweighed the need of the few, including the need for the two of them to have clear consciences on the matter... “Then you have our support for the law. None of the council would oppose us directly, as they like their positions in life too much, but if things do become far worse than they already are, then on all our heads it will be, and you know as well as I do that we are the easiest to blame.”

“I know, sister, I know,” Celestia said, adjusting her crown as the walked around the table. This was not the first time their nation has been faced with such adversity: indeed, it had been founded amidst a great and terribly chaotic period in their history, and the fact that they still stood as they did, even after centuries of often-bloody conflict, was a testament to the strength of Equestria’s people, and those that ruled over them. “However, I do believe I have found a potential ally in this matter, Luna. A hunter without equal, with skills that the commoners would see as otherworldly. Someone who could not only help turn the tide against the foul infestations that pervade the land as we speak, but someone to train others to do it, to teach and guide them in the ways of eliminating creatures most foul.”

“The Slayer?” Luna asked, her eyes widening in surprise. “You were able to contact him, of all allies?” The Slayer was a figure of almost legendary proportions; born in a land across the sea, amidst monsters that were considered mere wildlife to the island inhabitants. It seemed that he had, from a very young age to his kind, set out to slay beasts for gold, though after all these years, it would seem that the gold was merely an afterthought. He did not seek glory, for he already had much, and the lure of riches seemed not to bother him at all. What it was he ultimately sought, nobody knew, not even the wisest seers in all the lands.

“Yes, though it has been a sporadic contact at best, and often one fraught with complications,” the elder princess replied. “He travels very efficiently wherever he goes, leaving little evidence he was even there. I have, however, recently received a letter from him that he will indeed be on his way to our nation, and soon. He is liable to be a shock to the populace should they find out prematurely that he is coming, but I trust the messengers I used, as they are far too loyal to let such a golden opportunity be wasted by fanfare and foolishness.”

“It is good to hear that, sister. Yet, there is something we must know; how were you able to convince him to come to Equestria?”

“I offered him a large sum of gold from my personal treasury, should he come and help to deal with the problems we are facing,” Celestia said, knowing full well that her personal treasury was not at all large. Still, it would have to be enough, at least for the down payment for his services. “He is, however, supportive to our troubles, and both he and his apprentice should be in Canterlot within weeks. I have also offered him a place to stay in our castle, near where the bonfires are in the lower quarters, though I suspect he will be more apt to stay out in the wilds from time to time.”

“I still cannot believe you managed to contact him,” Princess Luna said as the pair of them walked off to the planning room, where their scribes likely awaited their decisions on the upcoming law. “He is a most elusive hunter, even for his kind, never staying in one place for long and rarely ever telling someone where he is going.”

“That is why he is the best at what he does, sister,” Celestia said, her voice grave as they left the throne room. “I believe it is ironic that the most reclusive of all races, a dragon, would have become a hunter of monsters, destroyer of demons, and eliminator of all things arcane and unholy. The Slayer is not to be underestimated, and I can only hope he will be able to help us.”

“A rompo,” a young woman muttered as she coughed in the musky air. “Why did it have to be a rompo?” The smell of the creature was simply revolting at such a close proximity, likely due to the fact that they avoided water and ate carrion... usually.

“Beats me,” her mentor said, kneeling down at the wheezing creature before him. Several crossbow bolts were sticking out of its torso, and as the creature struggled for breath, he quickly carved his knife across its throat, ending its life for good, in a shower of deep red blood. “I just wish I hadn’t needed to do that.”

“But... but you said this rompo went rogue,” she replied, watching as her mentor pulled the bolts from the corpse. “That it was no longer content with eating battlefield corpses, but instead was preying on the living.”

“Yes, but it wasn’t the rompo’s fault,” he replied, wiping his bloody knife on the cool morning grass. “Some of the local chieftains were burning the bodies of their fallen enemies to prevent “evil spirits” from coming back to haunt them. Yet their witch doctors told me that such only happens when bodies are desecrated, and there is nothing sacrilegious about letting rompos simply fulfilling their duty of being nature’s clean-up crew.” He sighed as he lifted the creature onto a cart, the creature’s cooling blood still seeping from its neck. “Shortsighted fools. They destroyed its food supply, and in its hunger it attacks the living.”

“So... what do we do now?” Twilight Sparkle asked, thankful that the oppressive heat of day was still a few hours away. Most of the decidedly dangerous animals had left them alone, which, according to the local witch doctors, was because of the talismans they carried with them. Though Twilight merely thought it was because the smell of a dragon was something many larger predatory creatures were ingrained to fear.

“We take the rompo back to the witch doctors as proof of its slaying, and after we’re paid for our trouble, we leave,” Spike said, his scales shining softly in the early morning rays. “Simple as that.”

“Is this because we were summoned to Equestria?” The young woman asked as her mentor strapped down the beast. Usually her mentor would usually stay for some time wherever he collected a bounty, but even then, he never stayed for long.

“We were not summoned, young one,” the dragon replied, securing the reigns of their horses. “The princess merely sent me a letter, asking for me to help them, and with a little incentive on her part, I agreed to do so. Now, while patience is a virtue, so too is punctuality, and I’d like to arrive in Canterlot within a week or two, providing nothing happens along the way. I would think you’d be excited to see your home again.”

“I... I would,” she said. “I mean, I am, sir. It’s been years since I was in Equestria.” To think that she’d set out to join Spike the Slayer when she was only nineteen years old. Her parents had not approved, or at least, originally, seeing as they expected her to have married by then, but her stubbornness and fondness for learning was off putting to her relatively few suitors. Still, her parents had come around eventually, when she began sending back some of the gold she had earned alongside her mentor. It was a small cut of his overall portion, but what he didn’t give her to keep was often used to feed and supply them, as he had little need for stashing away gold, it seemed.

Now, as a twenty two year old woman in the prime of her life, she was finally coming home, though mostly for business. She could still not believe it had only been thirty six months since she last saw her parents. It felt like twice as many years had passed, at least for her.

“I think your parents will try and steal you away from me,” Spike said with a smile as the pair clambered onto their horses. “They might think I’m a bad influence when they meet me.”

“Well, they certainly won’t approve of how I dress,” Twilight muttered, her attire drastically different than that she had started out with years ago. Her father had given her a chainmail undershirt that was two sizes too big and three feet longer than she needed, and a pair of metal-sheathed boots that weighed near five pounds each. Thankfully, her master had many skills, and although she had to earn them herself, he crafted, for her, an outfit that stood the test of time.

The chainmail had long since been recast, made into a suit far lighter, stronger, and smaller, though how her mentor had done so, still remained a mystery to her. The steel boots, on the other hand, had been traded immediately, in favor of a lighter pair made from shark skin and crocodile hide. Her buckskin leggings, courtesy of several deer she hunted in her first few months of tutelage, had earned their keep in preventing the potentially deadly bites of countless snakes, spiders, and other nasty creatures. A wool undershirt for cooler climates, and to prevent the chainmail from chafing against her skin, was usually covered by a long-sleeved jacket, made from the hide of a formerly bothersome werehyena. Atop her head sat a simple spangen helm, one of the few things her master had to buy for her, instead of helping her make. With her long hair tucked back in a long braid, and curled beneath her helmet, she was, for all intents and purposes, unassuming, which, in turn, had saved her from many an unpleasant situation. Then again, so had her master.

All in all, she dressed the part of a slayer’s apprentice, and although she was by no means a novice, her mentor was nearly fifty times her age. Dragons were not rare creatures, but kept to themselves, mostly in mountains or on volcanic islands. Spike had been the odd one out, having traveled much of the world before he was even a century old. Such traveling gave him quite the reputation over the many centuries of his life, and according to him, he plied his skill where needed, when needed, and if the price was right. Secretly, she believed he did such because he wished for the Gates of Tartarus to close forever, and eventually be able to settle down, but he never told her anything of the sort, so she kept quiet about it.

Still, being a slayer’s apprentice was not an easy task. She usually had to carry around the supplies if they were not loaded on horseback, hold onto extra weapons if they were stalking quarry, and, more often than not, cook their meals. Warm or even dry beds were a rarity, and more often than not they would have to make their camp in caves or forests, regardless of the weather. She was often hungry, as they expended far more energy than they usually ate, so whenever a thankful community paid them with a feast, she soon learned to be able to eat almost anything.

However, despite all of this, Spike was a fair teacher, and did not make her do something unless there was likely a lesson to be learned from it. Also, he was very patient with her, likely because he was so much older than she was, and he would often explain why something happened the way it did, or why things were different in some places, rather than others. His knowledge of most terrains and beasts were quite indispensable in many hunts, and whenever she had any free time in which to do so, she would scribble down all the wisdom she could in her journals. If she ever did leave his side, and strike out on her own, such books would be worth a fortune to her, seeing as she could easily open up a school on slaying with such a treasure.

“Well, given the fact that people’s assumptions of dragons aren’t the most flattering, I wouldn’t be surprised if some of the townsfolk demand I leave,” Spike said, pulling Twilight from her silent musings. “Besides, I’ll likely be the first dragon they’ve ever seen, so I’ll try and make a good impression.”

So the pair, indeed, traveled back to the head chieftain’s village, where the gathering of the local shamans waited for them. Upon delivery of the rompo that was attacking and devouring their children, the men paid the dragon and his assistant with what few valuables they had: green shards of stone, gathered from a mountain face far to the east. Thanking them, and bidding them farewell, the duo set off once more, their new journey taking them north, past the sweltering savannas and thick jungles, to the shores of a great salty sea.

Boarding a small ship with some of the last of their gold as toll for passage, the two meandered their way up the mountainous coastline before sailing straight across the open sea. Amidst several storms and an attack by a rather shark-like mermaid, the Slayer and his apprentice arrived on the southernmost shores of the nation of Equestria.

The great port city of Caballus was not much of a great city to begin with; it was more like a motley collection of warehouses and docks bordering the waters, with a modestly-sized walled-in town surrounding that. Several ships were already docked when Spike and Twilight arrived, and as they unloaded what few provisions they had, they could tell the city was unlike it was before. All the life, the shimmering happiness and prosperity that seemed to flow from even the very ground they stood on, now seemed cold; barren; lifeless. What few passerbies the duo met often rushed past, as if they did not wish to be out in the open for very long. In fact, the warehouses looked new, and nothing like the resplendent buildings from before the opening of Tartarus. Had they been destroyed by some recent natural disaster? Or perhaps by some monstrous beast?

“I didn't think it was this bad,” Twilight muttered, glancing around as the two led their horses through the middle of town. “I remember when we left Equestria through this city. People were smiling, fresh foods were in countless market stalls lining the busier streets, with some of the merchants selling goods from distant lands. Now, it’s like everything’s been swallowed up by the city streets. Half the shops look like they’ve been closed for months.”

“They probably have, young one,” her mentor replied, his height being the only real giveaway to his true identity. The long hooded robe he wore covered him well, though it would not hold up under close scrutiny. “How long ago did the Gates open? Almost a year now? It doesn’t take long for whatever was released to settle into the world, apprentice, especially with the speed at which many of them can move. These are forces your kind is not always prepared or willing to deal with; creatures fantastical and beastial; servants of darkness, and still those that only wish to be left alone. They all fall under the same scrutiny, however, and it’s up to those like us to help people see that just because they don’t understand something, doesn’t mean it’s bad or evil.”

“Like the rompo?” She asked.

“Exactly,” Spike said. “Rompos are, by their nature, scavengers, and rather harmless ones at that. They often come upon corpses before any larger predators can devour them, but they eat only that which is already dead. In the case of the rompo we were forced to deal with, its natural food supply was greatly diminished, both by the extreme efficiency of the native hunters, and by burning of the corpses of enemy tribes. A rompo driven to such a maddening hunger, such as the one we were forced to slay, would easily go against its nature and kill for sustenance, as would countless other beasts.”

“Then why did we have to kill it?” She asked. “Could we not simply captured and relocated it elsewhere?”

“Twilight, once such a creature, like that rompo, is thrust out of its natural behavior, and develops new behaviors, it cannot simply “go back” to the old ones with ease. It would have either continued killing wherever it went, starved itself to death, or been killed by a larger predator, seeing that it would have no knowledge of the terrain we place it in. All in all, it was better for all involved, perhaps even the rompo itself, that we ended its life.”

“I guess,” the young woman said as they approached the city’s gates. Judging from the number of guards along the tops of the walls and around the guardhouses, things were definitely worse than they were originally led to believe.

“Who goes there?” A guard asked, stepping forward and stopping the pair in their tracks. “What business have you outside the city?”

Twilight looked up at her master. “That is an odd question, is it not?”

“Best to know what you’ll be doing and where, in case you don’t come back, and we have to send a search party out after you,” the guard said with a huff. “Standard protocol these days, miss.”

“In case we don’t come back?” Spike asked, his voice indistinguishable from that of an ordinary man. “What if we are journeying away from the city, towards another?”

“Then the best of luck to you,” the guard said, stepping aside. “The roads these days are dangerous, too dangerous for individuals to travel, anymore. If you’re, indeed, going out for good, I’d suggest you try and find some shelter before nightfall. Nobody travels at night, unless they are under the most dire of circumstances.”

“Well, our circumstances are not dire, but we do have somewhere to be,” the dragon replied as they passed the guard. “Thank you for the warning, though. We shall try and be careful.”

“Good luck, then,” was his reply as they walked out of the city. Twilight, to her credit, did not look back as they continued on, but she could feel the eyes of countless guards on her form, not out of interest, but out of some strange sense of sadness, as if they believed both she and her master were doomed to vanish. She paid it no mind, though; her master was the Slayer, and she had nothing to fear but the greatest and most savage of beasts.

Crossing a large bridge, under which, a rather discolored river flowed, the pair mounted their steeds and set off. All around them, the farm lands lay filled with crops, yet many more lay unplanted, evidently abandoned by the owners and their families. It was sad, really, to see such good farming soil being unused and, in essence, wasted, all due to the lands becoming more and more dangerous.

Keeping her wits about her as the sun continued it’s leisurely trek across the sky, Twilight surreptitiously scanned every tree, every rocky outcropping, every abandoned building for signs of trouble. Her mentor had mastered being able to notice almost anything at any time, but then again, a dragon’s senses were so much greater than a human’s, so, to him, it was likely as natural as breathing or blinking. Still, it paid to be vigilant, and vigilant she was, for after a few hours of travelling, she heard a distant howl, almost like that of a wolf...

“Warg,” Spike said, turning to his apprentice as their horses began to look for the source of the howl.

“A warg? Here?” She asked. Twilight had dealt with all manner of beasts from all walks of life, but she hadn’t encountered a warg before. She has heard of them, though; vicious beasts, solitary if old, but pack hunters when young. Spike once told her the sound of its howl was a dead giveaway to its age, but she couldn’t quite remember yet what part of it to listen to.

“Yes, I’d recognize the howl of one anywhere,” her master replied as another howl sounded in the distance, much closer this time around. “Tell me, young on, how does one deal with a warg?”

“But is it alone, or in a pack?” She asked.

“You should know, you took notes when I told you,” Spike said as the howl sounded again, once again, more closer than before. The horses were becoming antsy...

“Um... okay, okay, I know this, I know this,” the young woman muttered, looking ahead of them. All around the road were open fields, and while she couldn’t see the beast, up ahead was a small scattering of trees, and up there, it was likely going to rush at them. “A warg in a pack... howls shrill and strong, but the call of a warg alone.... is low and long!”

“Exactly,” the dragon said. “Now, wait for the next howl, and tell me if this warg is a loner.”

She needn’t wait more than five seconds before another howl was heard, sounding much closer than the one before. Deep, baritone, trailing for several seconds in differing volumes...

“This warg is alone,” she replied, looking to her master for confirmation.

“Indeed he is,” he replied, earning a smile from his apprentice. “Now, how does one deal with a warg?”

“Well, you can try and outrun one, but only if you have a head start and the warg is much older or has been running for some time,” she said as another howl sounded. “Swords are rather ineffective against their hide, unless they are used to stab, and while axes are excellent for dispatching, they often require you get very close to the beast. So... crossbow?”

“Crossbow,” Spike said with a nod as he reached over and took her reins from her. “Come now, dismount and take out your crossbow.”

“What? You expect me to kill it?” She asked.

“Yes, I believe the time is right for you to put what you’ve learned into practice,” her mentor said, his face as serious as his tone. “Come now, before it is upon us.”

Her pulse increasing significantly when she realized he was serious, the young woman shakily dismounted and retrieved the large crossbow from her saddlebag. Now, most crossbows required one to have great strength and endurance to use, seeing that they were mostly used to defend castles, not hunt. This one, however, was specially made by Spike for the two of them to use, and did not require the user to be very strong. Instead, upon the side, there was a small lever with a crank, with which one could pull back the string with ease. Granted, it did not take very long to do so, and it was of a very lightweight construction, but both of those factors meant the lethal range of the crossbow was limited to a short distance, at least compared to a longbow.

Retrieving a trio of bolts from her knapsack, Twilight looked up in time from her loading to see the warg burst through the trees and make a beeline for them. Its slobbering mouth was flapping in the wind, its large teeth were bared, a hungry look sat upon its hideous face, its feet mercilessly pounding against the ground as it rushed towards them as fast as it could.

“Are you loaded?” Spike asked as the young woman took up her firing stance.

“Yes, sir,” she replied, aiming towards the beast, her heart beating faster. Years of training made her a good shot, but every now and then, she could, and would, still miss. She could only hope today was not one of those days; she hated days like that.

As the beast drew nearer and nearer, she could see scars running along the top of its back. This beast had attacked others before them, and from the look of things, had survived every encounter, likely eating whomever tried to take it down.

“Not this time,” Twilight muttered, pulling the trigger on her crossbow.

With a sharp whistling sound, the bolt flew straight and true; in the merest of moments, it connected right between the eyes of the charging beast. Stumbling slightly, as it gave a roar of pain, the warg continued it’s mad dash towards them, blood rushing from the wound in its head.

“Bolts and arrows do not always kill immediately, depending on the target,” Spike said as Twilight cranked the string back and loaded in the second bolt.

“I can see that,” she replied, firing again. This bolt struck an inch to the left of the first one, driving further into the thick skull of the beast, and with an unearthly squeal, it fell over, twitching as blood and saliva poured from its mouth. It lay only a dozen yards away, yet for Twilight, who only just realized she could breath again, it felt as if it had stopped right at her feet.

“One more,” Spike said.

“What?” She asked, looking up at her master. “It’s dead.”

“Looks can be deceiving,” was his reply. “One more: put it in the heart.”

Harrumphing as she loaded the crossbow again, Twilight took aim and fired once more, her bolt thudding into the creature’s chest. All of a sudden, it let out a terrible roar, and as it rose to its feet, making several lunges in their direction, snapping its massive maw like a steel trap. Yet, just as quickly, it fell back down to the ground and rolled onto its side, tongue lolling out as more blood pooled around it. With several agonized gasps and pants, the creature’s sides stopped moving, and a bloody gurgle emanated from its toothy maw.

“See?” Spike said as he dismounted his horse and handed his apprentice the reins. “Wait until you know it is dead before you approaching it. Some of these larger creatures can survive many wounds, even in vital areas.”

“I’ll be sure to write that one down again,” Twilight said, suppressing the urge to slap her forehead. Duh! How could she have forgotten that? It was Hunting 101, and it applied to pretty much anything you hunted, not just monsters like wargs!

“I’m sure you will,” the dragon muttered as he retrieved a large knife from his belt. “Come here.”

“What is it?” She asked as he began to open the large beasts, shoving piles of organs away from the rest of the carcass.

“This is your first warg,” he said, cracking a smile as blood poured onto the dirt path beneath them. “You lost your warg virginity. Time to celebrate.”

“You say there’s a virginity for everything,” Twilight muttered as she approached her master. “Eating bear for the first time, your first serpent skinning, a bath in the former home of a kappa... now your first warg kill?”

“Yes,” he said. “It’s just a joke, apprentice, no need to be so serious all the time. That’s supposed to be my job, remember?”

“I guess,” she said, watching as he continued to cut the beast, stopping only to hand her a strip of meat. “What is that?”

“Eat it,” he said, thrusting it upon her.

“Raw?” She asked, having tasted raw meat before, but never warg.

“No, not raw, I don’t want you getting sick,” he said. “This’ll be your supper tonight. Well, technically our supper,” he added, pulling out another long strip for himself. “I’ll show you how to cook warg backstrap.”

“Well... okay then,” she said, grabbing a spare piece of clean cloth from her knapsack and wrapping the two slabs in it. “What about the rest of it?” Twilight asked, gesturing towards the deceased warg.

Just then, a trio of farmers rode up over the hill, each carrying with them a long spear. Stopping dead in their tracks, they called out to the pair.

“Holy smokes! Did y’all kill that warg?” One said, his short stature belying his young age.

“Sure did,” Spike replied, wiping his knife on some grass. “Want it?”

“What?” They called, coming a bit closer. “What was that?”

“Do you want it?” Spike asked. “We don’t have the room to carry this beast, skinned and all, and even if we did, it’d spoil before we could use it. Plus, I take it you fellows are the sons of a local farmer?”

“Yessir,” one said, likely the eldest. “You really mean we can have this?”

“Yes,” the dragon replied as he and Twilight mounted their horses. “You should be able to quarter it onto your horses fairly quickly, I already gutted most of it.”

“Well, gee, thanks mister!” The younger one said as the two continued on their way. Once they were a good ways off, he turned to his brothers and smiled, positively glowing with excitement. “We’re gonna be eatin’ good tonight, won’t we?”

“Yes we will, and so will everyone else, for a few days at least,” the older brother said. “Come on, let’s get this thing loaded up, we ain’t got all day.”

Author's Note

This has been something I've not only been planning for some time, but have been working on as well. The true reason for it's publication is because I'm a tad stuck on it: I have a general idea where I want to go, but it'd be a big change of pace, in terms of story format, at least compared to my other works.