He sat by the fire. His stiff bones creaking as he tried to fight against the light breeze. He thought back to all he had done in his long life, it all seemed so meaningless as he sat by the fire alone. All his friends long gone from the world, and here he sat alone, with naught but himself for company. As he reached forward to stoke the flames, he felt the light push on himself as reality was shoved aside and someone stepped through the newly made tear.

Without looking up he spoke. "Hello, Discord." Hearing the Draconequus stretch himself out.

"Hello, Sean." Discord finally spoke, butchering his name after getting himself into a comfortable position.

"You know that's not how you pronounce my name Dissy," he snarked at the Draconequus.

"Oh, but I know how you ever so much love your nicknames Sean," he coolly replied picking at his talon. Sean leaned back onto his palms, letting out a sigh, he let his arms support himself as he looked up at the sky. He looked over at Discord for the first time since his arrival.

"Tonight’s the night, eh?"

Discord looked up at the stars for a moment, "Seems it is my old friend, you kno-"

"No," he shouted, swiftly cutting him off. "Discord, I loved this world, but I’m old as can be, I welcome death tonight." Letting out another sigh he laid down onto his back, looking up at the stars.

Discord watched his old friend as he watched the stars for the last time. Looking back up to the stars he saw a beautiful comet streak across the sky. A single shuttering breath beside him signaled the end. He could feel the life leave his old friend as he sat there watching the stars, and in the silence of the mountains, the Draconequus let himself cry. Discord wept, remembering how it all began when Sean graced this world with his presence. He let a smile grace his face, as the memories came to him.

~~~

"What do you mean the spell matrix is collapsing?" Minrus Ironheart screamed at the much smaller Taur.

"Just that, my lord, Maester Thunderspeak sent me as soon as he noticed the anomaly. He believes the shields will be down within the hour!" He said,
his voice growing more and more frantic as he spoke.

Ironheart reached down and pulled his great maul from the side of his throne. "Swiftrunner!" he shouted across the throne room. A very lithe Taur came running at his call, falling to one knee and bowing his head as he came close to his lord. "No time for pleasantries boy, muster the troops. Thunderspeak has sent word. The walls will fall within the hour, muster any able bodied Taur and see to it my city does not fall this day," he boomed down at the younger General. Swiftrunner quickly hopped to his hooves and after a quick salute shot off from the room at full charge; a war horn that was at his hip swiftly raising to his lips.

Ironheart hoisted his hammer over his shoulder as he began to plod his way from his throne.

"With me, squire!" He boomed, noticing the squire looking around in a mild panic. Ironheart plodded out of his tiny keep, if one could call it such; it was closer to a normal home just with a large sitting room centered on a throne. In times such as these, space was a luxury few Taurs could afford. As Ironheart marched down the hill his home was situated on, gazing down at the city from the vantage his home offered: cramped would be the word most would use to describe it. Pushed together through the conflict with their foe. Little free space was left in the fortified walls for the growing population. Houses sat nary wall to wall. Their fields nearly nonexistent as they attempted to expand.

However to Ironheart it was home, situated at the bottom of a massive sheer cliff meant they only needed to focus on defending from one side. He looked out further to the eight massive stone pillars that stood as their defense. Deep Speakers atop each weaving their spells, the mass of glowing runes plastering the pillars glowing a sickly green as the shields pulsed out connecting each pillar.

Ironheart marched through the city, droves of Taur falling into step behind him as he marched. As he drew closer to the wall he saw the dreaded beast. Something that had been the bane of the Taur for millennia. The Dragon known as Kuolema. A massive black scaled, crazed thing. The only reason their defenses held was because in time past a great hero had cleaved the beast’s wings from its body, rendering it unable to fly.

Ironheart watched in morbid fascination as the beast threw itself against the wall, again and again. Seeing the walls flicker Ironheart knew he must rally his people and drive the beast off once more. With a grim face, he stepped onto a small podium a squire had set out.

"My fellow Taur!" His voice boomed out, amplified by the glowing rune carved into the nape of his neck. "I rally you all here today to put an end to this disgusting creature that has plagued us for generations! It is time for Kuolema to face his proper judgment in Tartarus!" The gathered Taur let out a massive cheer as their leader spoke, bashing weapons to shield and stomping their hooves, causing the very ground to quiver at their combined bulk.

Ironheart stepped down from his box, and positioned himself at the front of his force. Raising his hammer above his head as silence fell upon his troops. They watched the beast throw itself against the shield and watched it quiver one final time, before shattering into ethereal pieces. Ironheart let his hammer drop and let out a war cry as he charged the dragon, his troops following suit on well trained hooves.

The massacre that followed was the stuff of legends, hundreds of Taur falling in the first wave, crushed under the dragon’s bulk as it hurled itself through the barrier. Skidding to a stop on its side, it slowly rolled over. It looked over at an approaching taur, letting out a huge burst of flames. Many of the taur rose their shields in anticipation, runes on their arms and shields glowing a sickly green that enhanced their natural strength and that of their shields as they braced for the impact.

A few of the slower taur who failed to raise their shields in time were bathed in flames, reduced to nothing more than a charred corpses. The taur that had been successful, met the flames head on, pouring energy into reinforcing runes on their shields. As the flames died down, more fell, as the wounds from the gaps in their shield wall and magical exhaustion set in.

Those who fell were left behind in the ensuing charge. Preferring to trample them, than leave them to be played with by the dragon should they fail in their endeavor. Steel met scale as the mass of taur charged the beast. Cracking the ill maintained armor. Kuolema seemingly amused by his newfound playthings simply swatted a dozen of them aside.

The runes on the armor of the minotaurs flared like lit magnesium, as they were sent flying, now fully drained of their magical reserves. Several taur rushed to fill the void, bashing away at the things natural armaments. All the While Kuolema continued to smash away at them with a sadistic glee. Knowing there was no retreat the Minotaur fought on, wailing away at the creature as it handedly slaughtered them.

As the battle raged on, the young squire Jarapak watched on in terrified fascination. Droves of Taur falling continuously at the talons of Kuolema. Fear sparked within him and he began to chant, pouring his life energy into a teleportation spell, hoping to flee the carnage. However, with so many casting, and so much chaos around himself, he delved into a force his maester had warned him to never tap into: the world’s chaotic essence.

With the planet fueling the spell, he felt the worlds power flood into himself. Overriding any semblance of control he’d once had. The spell spiraled out of control as he simple attempted to stem the massive influx of energy. The Taur all felt the shift, as reality ripped, opening like a maw that snatched their foe from the world. They lost nearly three thousand Taur that day, and almost half the city.

However, the dragon was ripped from where it stood and something was left in its place, a small babe tucked into a wicker basket with a small metal name plate affixed to it. In an elegant script it read, Sean.

~~~

Jarapak took in the young babe he had brought forth, raising him as his own while he continued his training among the other mages. The village had flourished in this time, no longer condemned to their small borders. They had renamed the village to Yraofield after one of the first flowers to bloom on the blighted land as they expanded. After fifteen long years Jarapak was appointed head mage of the city, for both his great deed and the successful training of his son.

Sean had grown strong in this time, no longer a babe, but a young man. He proudly displayed his rune markings and scars he had earned both from the training taken from his father, and the master at arms and other Taur. However, we must remember, humans are all chaotic and curious creatures. Many in the city were still weary of a creature brought forth with the chaotic magic of the world. So as the city grew all knew two names: Jarapak the Dragon Slayer, and Sean the Human.

~~~

Sean sat atop one of the tallest buildings in Yraofield, watching the airship approach. It was a monstrous thing, slow and lumbering through the sky. Its three large balloons pushing aside the cloud cover as it approached. Its approach was slow, but Sean knew when it would arrive. The same ship came every five years to bring a Taur delegation to the Equestrians to mull over peace treaties and trade agreements. A rather dull affair if you were to ask anyone other than Sean, who in all his years was never allowed to leave the walls of the city.

He felt caged, locked away from the world he oh-so wanted to explore. He had pleaded and begged his father to take him five years ago when the delegation last went, but was denied. Sean stood and all but leapt from the spire he sat atop, deftly swinging from handhold to handhold, as he descended. He soon threw himself into an open window, landing in a brightly lit if dusty and disorderly study. As his feet hit the floor with an audible thump, a sharp “no.” Exited the mouth of the Taur situated at the writing desk on the far side of the room.

“But why not father!?” Sean all but whined at the gruff looking Taur shrouded in a royal blue robe.

“Because you are still too young boy. You do not listen, how many times have we told you not to climb the blasted building!” His father deadpanned.

“A few times,” Sean replied meekly looking away.

“Sean we've had at least three Taur fall off just this week alone!” His father all but screamed at him.

“It’s not my fault their hooves can’t grip worth a damn!” Sean rebuked.

“You see, Sean, this is why we will not bring you, you let your temper cloud your judgment. Yes, I will admit, they may be at fault more so than yourself. But, it was still your actions that inevitably lead to their injuries. Sean, I will take you when you are ready, fret not youngling.”

“Father, I'm fifteen, near a man. I hate that you still call me youngling.” He said, glaring at his father.

Attempting to suppress his laugh so he could speak, Jarapak began. “And I am at least thirty years your senior Sean, and you are my son. You will always be my youngling.” he finished. A loving smile on his face.

Sean crossed his arms, and turned his body away from his father, before turning his head and sticking out his tongue. “I still wish to go! I hate being cooped up in the city, I want to see something different.” Sean whined as he plopped himself down into a sack chair near the open window.

“I know Sean,” he said sighing. “I'll see what I can do about maybe getting you into one of the hunting parties before I leave; I can't very well train you while I'm in Canterlot anyhow.”

A grin overtook Sean’s face, “Really father!?” he cried out enthusiastically. “You've always said I couldn't go out with them before!”

“Well,” his father began, pausing slightly grinning at his son’s antics before continuing. “I need to give you something to do, else you’ll sneak onto the blasted ship.” Jarapak looked curiously at his son, as a nasty grin overcame the boy’s face. “Don't you dare youngling, if I catch you on that ship I will strip your hide!” Jarapak ordered in a raised voice, rising to his hooves bumping the desk in his rush and spilling his ink well.

“See you tonight, father!” Sean hollered as he deftly fled from his well-positioned seating and out the window from whence he came.

Jarapak sat backwards into his chair, running a large hand down his face while letting out a sigh. “What am I to do with that boy?” He groaned, looking down towards his paperwork he finally spotted the spilled inkwell that had ruined much of the work he had spent his morning on. “Bother.”

Sean shimmied down the building with a practiced ease. Swinging from handhold to foothold, until he landed heavily on the road, startling a few Taur going about their business. He flashed them an apologetic smile before taking off down the road at a sprint; the runes on his legs flashing with each impact.

As he drew near his destination he slowed. Before him sat a small yurt on the outskirts of town, the hides with which it was made frayed with age and disrepair. Poking his head into the yurt he was assaulted with the scent of stale mead and unwashed bodies.

“Seestin!” He called into the tent. He was replied to with a groan. He watched as a large pile of skins began to move.

“Who ith it?” A giant baritone voice strained out, as a huge Taur climbed out.

“Wanna spar?” The boy asked as his friend turned to face him.

“Gimmie a minute.” Seestin boomed. Grabbing a knocked-over pitcher and downing what little remained as he stood, clad in nothing but an under cloth. Sean retreated from the yurt. Aiming to give his friend some time to rise and clothe himself. Seestin exited a few moments later, clad in heavily studded leather armor and a massive broadsword on his back.

Sean flashed him a grin, “Another long night?”

“You know how those lasses can be, don’t give me a damn moment to collect myself when I’ve the drink in me.”

With a wicked grin on himself Sean said, “well, if you picked one of them the rest would back off. Unless you want to make like an Equestrian and make a herd?” Seestin gave Sean a playful slap to the back of the head, before walking off towards the field behind his home they often used to train.

As they stood face-to-face, they shared a knowing grin, both lowering their stances as they reached towards their respective weapons. Sean felt his hand wrap around the worn leather grip of his sword. He had spent years perfecting it, and it was a simple-looking thing truth be told. Nearly five and a half feet in length and nearly half a foot wide. Forged with some of the best steel he could find. A large fuller running down the length, filled with runes.
His smile grew as he pulled it from its scabbard, relishing the feeling of the blade grinding into the sheath.

They faced off against each other, their faces going blank as they began to circle, each waiting for the other to lunge first. They slowed, Sean flexing his muscles causing the runes on his arms to flare. Seestin hopped backwards, Sean's feint working almost too well. He lept forward bringing his sword up from the downward angle he had held. Seestin lowering his arms and catching Sean’s blade with his cross-guard, before snapping his blade upwards and kicking sean in the chest.

Sean reeled at the blow, skidding backwards into the ground, the breath knocked from him. Seestin pounced then. Bringing his blade down in a long over hand arc. Sean ripped his right hand upwards, aiming to use the flat of his blade to shield himself. Temporarily dragging the tip of the blade along the ground, Sean felt the blade slam into his a second later. Knocking the blade from his hand and into his chest. Taking the wind from him once again. Looking up he saw Seestin looking down at him, a grin on his face as he held his sword point to his throat. He let out a groan as he was hauled to his feet by the outstretched hand.

They continued like that for hours, only stopping as the sun set. They both lay on the ground thoroughly exhausted. “I’m going to miss this Seestin,” Sean called over from his seated position.

“Your dad decided to let you go?” Seestin replied, shock evident in his voice.

“Oh gods forbid it no, but I’m getting on the ship one way or another.” Sean stated, an indisputable tone to his voice.

“You know he'll have your hide for that. That old man can take a lot, but I think this might be the time he snaps, Sean.”

“I know, but I’m sick of being caged here. I feel like a bird who can't spread their wings. It's,” with a slight pause he continued. “It's terrifying Seestin, the idea of all the things I’m missing on out there. I wanna roam like the Roving. And if it means I must be branded an exile to escape, don’t think I won’t do it.”

Letting out a large sigh, the Taur turned to his friend, “Sean, I've been your friend for the past nine years, I know damn well you will and that’s what’s so crazy about you. I've seen you take down Taur twice my size because they got in the way of something, or someone you wanted,” he paused and a grin overcame his face. “Like that griffin gal you were sweet on last year, remember her?”

The sound of flesh connecting could be heard as Sean snarked, “You leave her outta this. She was a fine one though.”

“That she was, took down ol' Dunner when he wouldn’t leave 'er alone.”

“Aye, the look on his face when she threw em clean across the bar after he got a little too frisky was something to remember.”

“That it was.” Seestin strained as he pushed himself to his hooves. “I best be heading in Sean, I’ll see you when I see you, I guess.”

“Later, Sees,” he called from his prone position, he stayed there for a few more moments watching the sunset before he shot up to his feet and began the trek back to his home.

~~~

The sun had long since set as Sean approached the mage tower. He glanced at the front door before grinning to himself. Leaping up he grabbed the post above the door on which a sign once hung from and pulled himself up. Continuing his climb to the top, grabbing jutting stones with a practiced ease. He soon crawled into the window of his small room, placing his sword on a small hook beside his cot.

“Get down here Sean, foods getting cold!” A voice boomed from the kitchen.

“Coming father!” He shouted back, as he threw on a thin dirty white tunic. “Damn bastard needs to stop tagging my window.” He muttered under his breath.

“I’m not dead yet boy, you can speak your mind then!” Was suddenly shouted across the home. Not bothering to hide the groan. He rolled his neck and eyes as he descended the small rise his room was situated on, walking into the kitchen where his father sat eating the stew he had prepared. Helping himself to a bowl, from the hanging pot he plopped down in the chair across from his father.

Jarapak pointed his spoon at his son as he swallowed. “I spoke with Krutus today. He says ‘long as you behave yourself, you've a spot on the party tomorrow morn.’” Sean looked up at him in surprise.

“Doesn’t the ship leave tomorrow too?” He asked hesitantly

“That it does, can’t have you sneaking on board now can I?” His father quipped, shooting him a mirthful grin.

Sean let a frown over come his face as he idly stirred his soup. Looking down at his son he let out a sigh, “it’s not that I don't trust ya sean. I just know how damn impulsive ya can be sometimes. I mean, remember when you tried to get us more honey because we were short while making mead? Ya were red fer weeks after!” His father letting out a hearty chuckle

“Ya, I remember. Didn't know wasps weren't the ones that made honey,” he chuckled shaking his head at the memory.

“That all I’m saying here sean.” His voice softening, “I don't want ya making any choices you’ll truly regret. Things get a bit heated during the debates. Things can be said in anger, and it wouldn't be just you taking the blows. It could affect everyone in Minos.” He finished smiling softly at his son.

“I know father. I just want to see something aside from the city walls. It's just frustrating.” He replied, his face downcast, and the somber atmosphere returning.

The meal was finished in relative silence after that. The dishes were washed and stowed away and the leftovers were covered. Sean retired to his room soon after. Grabbing a sturdy leather rucksack from beneath his cot.

He first packed a few sets of clothing, gently folding them to conserve space. He followed it with his apprentice robes incase he was found out. It was a teal green in color covered in hundreds of dark green symbols, with a massive hood. Traditionally worn over a young apprentices horns.

Lacking horns Sean had difficulty with the huge hood normally. However he refused to have it shortened. Citing it would come in handy eventually. He next packed a large water skin. Filled of course, followed by rations and a tooth brush. Lastly he packed a large leather bound tome, filled with maps, and other useful traveling resources should the worse come.

He finished by strapping his sword to the side of the pack. Eyeing the release tabs on the sheath, double checking that they could still be released for a quick draw. Sean let out a content sigh, before setting out his clothing for the following day. Stripping down to his under cloth, he crawled into bed, forgoing a blanket.

He let the cool night air wash over him as he lay there. Having planned out his route of boarding three years prior, he had little concern for the following day. However he still found himself unable to sleep.

He mulled over his plan once more. It was rather simple in essence. Harder however in execution. He would climb the clock tower near the air docks early tomorrow. He’d use the grounding cables until he was nearly beside the ship.

Then leaping across, he would land safely on the bags, and would wait out there. Simple no? Using a speed rune as well as a levitation rune, it should be easy enough, Right? Right!? Sean grumbled to himself as he rolled over. No point in backing down now. He had spent far too long enchanting those discs at this point.

He rolled over once again. Looking at the two lightly glowing hair thick disks of raw iron. Smiling at last, he closed his eyes and let sleep take him.

~~~

Sean rose before the sun the following day, sneaking from his room and into the kitchen. He softly opened a cabnet before pulling out a thin steel bowl, before sneaking over to the cooking pot dangling about the merrily popping ember of what remained of yesterday's fire. Pushing aside some of the congealed top layer with the rim of the bowl, he took a healthy amount into it before resealing the pot. Pressing down solidly on the wooden lid. Cursing the lids seal for the umpteenth time.

Sean lightly poured some energy into the markings on the bowl, smiling to himself as the contents began to writhe and boil. He happily sipped the broth of his stew, humming lightly. Smiling further as a warm feeling settled into his stomach.

Having finished his breakfast Sean returned to his room. Donning today's dress.
Changing his undercloth first he then donned a set of sturdy pants, slipping on his knife belt into the accompanying loops. While slipping a long curved dagger onto the belt. Following he donned a light white tunic. Before reaching under his bed and pulling out an inconspicuous, if a bit tall, pair of boots.

Tying them tight, he clicked the heels. Watching the two small curved claw like appendages shoot out from the front. He smiled down at the modified climbing spurs. Having finished with his foot wear Sean then began to buckle on a thick leather coat with gloves permanently affixed to the sleeves. Small steel spurs were sewn into the fingertips for added grip. Donning his rucksack, Sean finished by tucking the two very important disks into his pocket.

Sean paused, and just stood there for some time. Looking over his room, quite possibly for the last time. It was plain and simple, no posters adorning the walls, or any pleasantries.
There were however racks of various smithing and leather working tools adorning the walls. No space was wasted, making the most of the small amount of storage space.

Turning he walked towards the window, giving the room one last look. Before slipping away, into the early dawn.

Author's Note

This story wouldn't have been possible without the help of Soren Mercer, Kilobytes and Azriel. Thanks for all the help!