Legion

It was the nights that were the worst. Cold and bitter beyond comprehension. I could feel the chilling air trying to break through her magically enhanced cloak. I trudged along sluggishly and a little helplessly though I was keeping the same pace as the Scholar's Caravan. The night blocking all sight and any hopes of communication. It had been six days twelve hours fourteen minutes and forty seconds since that night that Juniper had asked me to be her teacher and I had said yes. She had learned a lot from what I have taught her and our sparring had taken up most of the day, the times when we walked I would teach her the proper ways of casting a spell. Keeping the neck straight and firm was key, do not clench the muscles otherwise the spell will have adverse effects on the body, do not force it out just let it flow out. She had learned much and was not afraid of sharing the information with Novella and Oxymoron. I smiled as I saw many parallels between me and her. I was lucky that I had brought my own stolen version of Interworking's of Magic: A Reference Guide. A copy that I stolen from the Canterlot Royal Library.

I had brought it in hopes of finding insight into the mysterious entity that lied deep inside of me. Sleeping and resting for so long, waiting to be awakened by some sort of magical event or biding its time to take over when I least expected it. It's true intentions were somewhat unclear to me but moreover it was a relief to know that it was there and I was able to keep it at bay. At least for now.

Juniper had showed great promise over the days of travelling, and I learned quite a bit on Oxymoron. I even learned his special talent, he is apparently very good at manipulating light however he so chose. Molding it and forming it to something physical. Juniper was able to read the thoughts and minds of ponies, know their true intentions and even slightly manipulate them depending on the strength of their will. Absorbing them and using them to strengthen her capabilities. I taught her as much as I could without making a formal lesson plan. I had decided to teach her the old ways. Self defense, casting spells that pertained to combat and the likes. I had wished that Celestia had taught me such spells when they could have come in handy. Numerous occasions where they would have come in handy and only until recently did I realize that not all situations could have been handled with talking nicely. Tirek taught me that, despite being a power hungry maniac.

Juniper flicked her horn as we continued on our way and stayed close to me, 'er leaving my side only to relieve herself and for food. Other than that she was constantly near me. Normal ponies would have shoved her away, but I kind of liked it. Reminded me of the good old days when I was still under Celestia's wing. Juniper and I had our hoods pulled up over our faces and our sights dead set on the paths ahead of us.

The blizzard had died down, letting us somewhat of a clear view ahead of us. The snow that went up to their knees was almost too much to trudge. Luckily, there were some nearby weather ponies and with some diplomatic skills and empathy from Juniper we were able to convince them to clear away some of the snow to offer us a clear path to the Blue Spire Ridge. I gazed over the long single file line of our expedition and breathed out a sighing breath as I distantly saw the Blue Ridge Mountains. I said to my apprentice, "Heh...we are close now."

After no response from Juniper I looked out of curiosity and raising an eyebrow I inquired, "What's wrong?"

She looked up at the fuzzy image of the mountains a few miles ahead and she spoke back, "What exactly are we doing? I was not very well informed...the only thing that I cared or paid attention to was the fact that you were apart of it."

I smiled as I continued my gaze on the mountains, "Well, do you remember me returning to Ponyville from that strange village in the northern slopes?"
"Just assume that I know next to everything about you...and yes I remember."
"Well," Twilight returned, "In there Starlight Glimmer mentioned the Nine Relics of Meadowbrooks and I knew that he had only made eight. So, ever since I tried to find any book that I could on the relics. They were created as a plan B in case the Elements of Harmony did not work. It took him years to finally make them and when he did, they did not meet expected results."

Juniper looked at me and asked, "Were they faulty? Were they not powerful enough to be back up plans?"

I smiled and glanced over at Juniper, "Quite the opposite actually, they were too strong. Every relic was cut from the Tree of Harmony before it fell victim to the Chaos Vines. The Spear of Martyrdom. The Sword of Truth. The Staff of Benevolence. The Shield of Honesty. The Crown of Purity. The Axe of Honor. The Armor of Protection. And the Vambraces of Nobility. Each one was supposed to equal in power to the Elements but allow anypony to pick them up rather than having specific ponies wield them. It took him years to perfect the enchantments for each of them. Using only the most exquisite of materials. Over the years he had grown mad and fearful, fearful that they would not be proper substitutes so he shut them away and locked them into a place where only he could protect them. His own tomb. Burying himself alive in a large cavernous deep beneath the Blue Spire mountains. Starswirl tried everything he could to rescue his colleague and closest friend, but realized that the only thing he could do was to keep him locked up and left to rot in his madness."

Juniper shivered, and not from the cold, she seemed horrified by the information that I offered her. She shook her head slowly and said, "How could somepony do this? Go insane like that?"

I looked back ahead of me, peering over the caravans and the marching ponies. Oh how the obscure winds blocked my view to only a few paces ahead of me, but I could hear. I could hear over the rough winds the sounds of the trudging ponies. Long and deep strides in the seemingly endless blizzard, hard snow crunching under the various weights of the ponies and caravans. I answered my young apprentice, "We cannot stop the path we were chosen for. Destiny and Fate intertwine together, though they are not directly related. You must understand, someponies are just born to become dreamers."
"Yes my master." She answered in a nonchalant tone. And shot her head around as she gasped at the sudden sight of something. I saw it as well, leaping across her field of vision in a jet black flash. I stopped and ordered everypony to do so. The caravans and ponies stopped to a screeching halt, rust clearly audible by the hinges of the caravans. My heart began to race, something was near us and it was not pleasant to say the least. I listen closely to the roaring northern winds, the only thing that dared make a sound lest trying to disturb the bitter cold.

I squinted hard and looked around, trying to find the source of the quick streak across my vision. The silence alone was loud enough that it was almost deafening. Loud enough that even mere thoughts were a chore. My movements suddenly sluggish and slow. And my heart stopped as I heard the sound of a bloodcurdling scream. My attention snapped to somewhere ahead of me. I broke into a full blown gallop and at breakneck speed I found myself staring at nothing but stone faces of surprise and horror. I looked about, a few paces away from my colleagues and saw nothing. Each pony around me mortified and too traumatized to answer my presence. Their pupils like pinpricks. I looked down at what they were staring at and felt something snap inside of me. A pluck against something most precious to me, my innocence.

Lying in a steaming rotting heap was what used to resemble a pony, torn apart meat and the mutilated form of a pony. It's head caved in and pieces of the skull now camouflage in the pure driven snow. It's brain was missing, it's jaw unhinged and broken in the appropriate places that were not healthy for a well sustainable jaw. It's chest ripped and bleeding profusely, meat ripped apart and slowly freezing in the blizzard winds. His intestines on display for all the world to see, half his lower digestive track was missing and seemed to be forcefully ripped by sharp teeth. It was not the smell nor the horrified look on the victim's face that frightened me.

It was the utter brutality of the victim. No clean cuts or gashes all of them seemed to be ripped open either through claws or teeth. I knelt down to offer a few final words as I offered a blessing upon the dead soul so that he might find a place in the Holy Pastures. I looked up and a crooked lantern billowed restlessly in the wind, making the message splattered on the side of the caravan glow and then dim with the swaying of the lantern. I swallowed hard in fear as I read, "They come."