Salt and Sapphire

Saiph

The sun was falling on Warg’s Pass as Saiph and Lilac Cross hunkered down in the Ravenwood. Perichot and Vivid Root were currently entertaining the alpha of the Pack of the Phoenix, Mirth, in the dogs’ temporary bolt-hole, a decrepit, overgrown ruin near Grainstone appeared to have once been a great fortress.

The sun was falling on Warg’s Pass as Saiph and Lilac Cross hunkered down in the Ravenwood. Perichot and Vivid Root were currently entertaining the alpha of the Pack of the Phoenix, Mirth, in the dogs’ temporary bolt-hole, a decrepit, overgrown ruin near Grainstone appeared to have once been a great fortress.

Saiph didn’t enjoy spending time there. The stench of boiling flesh and the screams of the rival packmates who remained loyal Roach and the Dreadmongers made her sick to her stomach. She wanted to find her friends and leave with the caravan, and never return to this twisted forest. Pulling out her knife, Saiph reached into her saddlebag, only to remember with a huff that her figurine been snagged from her by one of the dogs when they were apprehended.

Her ears perked at the sound of a snapping twig, Lilac Cross jumping up and lighting up his horn, though with visible strain.

“Alright, alright, don’t overexcite yourselves, night stalkers,” said an unfamiliar, coltish voice. The brush ruffled and out of it stepped a diamond dog. He was slim and small, with a stout muzzle that punctuated his youthful face. Over his immaculately-groomed coat, which glowed like the moonlight upon the pale snow of the northern mountains, he wore a black vest, with a yellow bandanna tied around his neck. The only imperfection she’d immediately noticed on the dog was a small scar that discolored the side of his muzzle.

The diamond dog appeared friendly enough, certainly more appealing to the eye than the alpha, who appeared to be a walking mass of scar tissue. But, unlike most dogs, and just like Mirth, his eyes, a spellbinding shade of pink, held a certain feral cunning that hinted he knew something everypony else didn’t.

“We’re all friends here, aren’t we?” said the dog, smiling softly.

Lilac Cross begrudgingly quelled the spell he’d been charging, falling on his plot as he rubbed his horn.

Saiph eyed the newcomer warily. “I guess…”

The dog’s smile remained as he approached, hand outstretched. “Name’s Yen, by the way. Nice to meetcha!”

Saiph hesitantly placed her hoof into his paw, giving him her name before they broke contact.

“You alright there, buddy?” Yen asked Lilac Cross, concern etched across his features. “You don’t seem too hot.”

“I’m not your buddy, pal,” retorted Lilac Cross.

Crossing his arms, Yen said, “Just making sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine,” Lilac Cross, muttered.

“Sure you don’t need anything? I can bring you some water or a bowl of rat-tail stew from camp. Danger’s a mean cook, if I do say so myself!”

“I’m fine.”

Raising a brow, Yen shrugged. “If you say so.”

“I’m not trying to be rude, Mr. Yen, but why are you here?” Saiph asked.

Yen turned to her, sitting on his haunches as he scratched the back of his head, chuckling abashedly. “Just, uh, curious, I guess.”

Saiph’s ears perked. “Curious?”

“Never thought I’d get to see a pony-bat up close before,” he elaborated, tail wagging slightly. “I always thought you guys went extinct centuries ago!”

Blinking, Saiph allowed herself a small grin. “Well, here we are! Living and breathing and not dusty fossils.”

“So I see!” Yen said, nodding excitedly. Suddenly he went rigid, scanning Saiph and Lilac before leaning in close, a paw near his muzzle as though to prevent the forest from listening in as he whispered, “So, is it true that you guys give blood sacrifices to the Black Crown?”

Saiph’s jaw dropped. “WHAT!?”

Yen flinched away, struggling to hide his smirk. “I’ll take that as a strong ‘No’, then.”

Standing up, Yen said, “Anyway, I gotta go and speak with Ace and Jinx about a few things,” as he dusted himself off. His head snapped up and he snapped his fingers as though a sudden epiphany had popped into his head. “Oh! And before I forget, the alpha wants to talk with you.”

Saiph’s wings flared in surprise. “M-Me? Why?”

“I’unno. I’m just here to do what I’m told. Your friend can come along too, if he likes. I can see he’s absolutely chomping at the bit!”

Saiph looked at Lilac Cross, who was watching their exchange with narrowed eyes. He nodded as his eyes connected with Yen’s. Yen grinned.

Clapping his hands together, Yen said, “It’s decided, then! Come along, friends, come along!” before turning and walking back through the brush toward the run-down fort.

Saiph and Lilac looked at one another, resolutely nodding before following.

They approached the gates of the fort without incident. Saiph raised her gaze to the faded gryphonic banners hanging from the outer wall, admiring the craftsmanship that went into building the crumbling place for it to still be standing centuries after its construction. She imagined what a marvel the fort must have been in its glory days, when it was not cloaked in overgrowth and inhabited by dogs who pissed from its towers.

It went without saying that the gruesome display of the victims of Mirth’s campaign, immolated at the pyre, lining the walls were not something she was particularly fond of either.

The fort was built like any other, no special additions to keep flyers out, something which had confused Saiph since every battle with gryphons had an aerial component, but when she asked Yen about it, he pondered for a moment, appraising the design, before answering, “If your opponent can fly, you’re just giving them something to drop on your head if you cocoon yourself.” Saiph mulled over those words as they walked through a hole that was blasted in the wall near the entrance.

Seeing as Mirth’s pack was quite modest, with only about forty or so dogs in comparison to what could go upwards of two hundred from what Saiph had heard, they didn’t guard the entrance so much as sentinel it. Those dogs had horns in their hands which they would blow to alert the rest of the pack to trouble.

They cut through a couple of rooms stacked with broken tables and with shattered windows which depicted old tales that were now lost to tim; a few of them were piled high with the findings from a weapons cache. The group eventually came out upon an open grass plain in the center of the fort that once served as a courtyard. The dogs had dug a small crater there, and the wood from the tables and the surrounding forest had been tossed inside and ignited, creating a massive bonfire.

The bodies of several Dreadmongers who refused to swear their allegiance to the Pack of the Phoenix were tossed into the roaring flame by a few grunts, who dusted their hands of the detritus before continuing about their business: several were trading stories over rat-tail stew or maintaining their weapons; a few snoozed on the ground using their vests as pillows; some were content to simply sit next to the fire as it chased away the nipping winds of the approaching winter.

Saiph spotted Perichot speaking with Mirth off on their own, with Vivid Root eyeing the dogs around them with his unswollen eye, wings twitching in agitation. When Vivid Root caught sight of Saiph and Lilac Cross, he sighed in relief, beelining for Lilac Cross and giving the unicorn a hug. “Oh, thank the stars above! I was getting worried!”

“Careful, Viv,” said Lilac Cross, a small grin on his muzzle as he patted his partner on the back. “You may give somepony the idea that you’re not the badass you say you are.”

Vivid Root squeaked, pushing away from him and keeping his gaze on the ground, cheeks reddening. “I am a badass…” he huffed.

Lilac Cross nuzzled him, making the pony blush even more fiercely. “You are.”

Yen watched the scene play out with a small smile, hands on his hips as he looked at Saiph. With a nod of his head in the alpha’s direction, Yen said, “I’ll get your friends sorted out while you speak with the boss.” He walked up to the two, Vivid Root giving him a wary look as Lilac Cross nudged him in the side.

Saiph made her way to Perichot and Mirth, whose conversation had winded down as they noticed her approaching. Perichot gave her a smile, one which she returned, while Mirth stared at her with an unreadable expression.

Turning to Perichot, Mirth said, “I just need to see if we can get the Rough Riders on board before setting anything in stone. Till then we’ve only got a ghost of a plan.”

“Understandable, Mirth,” Perichot said. “If that will be all…?”

“One more thing: You don’t mind if I borrow this one for a moment, do you?” Mirth said, gesturing to Saiph, who stiffened.

Perichot looked at her, and though Saiph wasn’t exactly comfortable with the idea of being alone near Mirth, she didn’t want to give him or his pack any reason to become displeased with her friends.

Stepping forward, Saiph said, “H-How can I help you, Mr. Mirth?”

Mirth scanned her for a time before saying, “Just Mirth.”

Perichot’s gaze flicked between the two and then he stood, brushing by Saiph with a meaningful glance.

“Sorry,” she said. “So, um, Mirth, your friend Yen told me you wanted to see me?”

“Saiph, was it?” Mirth asked.

Saiph shakily nodded.

“I think you took a wrong turn somewhere.” His powerful voice dropped accusingly, making Saiph’s coat stand on end.

“W-What?”

“It takes one glance, pony, for everyone here to know you’re not cut out for this. You’re too soft, too emotional. Too fresh.”

Whimpering, Saiph took a step back. “W-What do you mean?”

Chuckling mirthlessly, Mirth took a step towards her. “You’ll get eaten alive out here. Why don’t you just trot on back to your little caravan and leave the real work to those can get it done, hm?”

She took another step back, and Mirth advanced upon her. “I-I don’t―!”

Looming over Saiph, the alpha, jaw slavering, snarled, “Only thing I can see you being good for is wolf-bait!”

A tear spilled down the mare’s cheek as her face contorted with vicious fury. “Buck you, you jerk!”

Saiph’s ears rang with white noise, the mare standing squarely on her hooves and refusing to back down from this big, scar-faced bully. When the mare came back to her senses, drawing calming breaths to cool the fire in her heaving chest, she noticed just how quiet the courtyard had become. Dread overcame the mare when she turned to discover that every Phoenix was now staring at her, including Yen. Vivid Root and Lilac Cross were tense, ready to spring into action at any moment despite knowing the odds weren’t in their favor, and Perichot’s narrowed eyes were trained on Mirth, who sneered at her.

Just before the mare could shrink down and apologize, hoping against hope that she hadn’t just killed her squadmates, Mirth reared back and laughed a deep, hearty laugh. “So it wasn’t a one-off thing!” Mirth calmed himself down, looking at Saiph with a newfound warmth. “You’ve got fire in you, kid. I respect that.”

Saiph looked down, trying to hide herself, even as everyone else returned to their original tasks. Her squadmates were still on guard, but were considerably less jumpy when it became clear they had avoided a huge catastrophe.

“I’m sorry…” she muttered.

“Don’t be,” Mirth said. “You passed.”

“What?” she said, raising her head to meet his gaze.

Mirth snorted at her confusion. He was silent for a small time, appearing contemplative. “You’re the one who carved the figurine, aren’t you?”

Saiph’s eyes widened at that.

Mirth reached into his vest pocket, fishing out the unfinished wooden carving she’d been working on. “This thing here?”

Saiph dumbly nodded.

Mirth carefully scrutinized the pony-shaped figure, twisting it around in his paws with a certain reverence. “It’s amazing.”

Saiph tilted her head. “It’s got a nasty cut in it, though...”

Smirking, Mirth said, “If it were perfect it’d just be another nameless museum piece for creatures to gawk over. The scar gives it character.”

Saiph mulled his words over.

Mirth cleared his throat. “You, uh, don’t mind if I keep it, do you? It’s nice...” he said almost meekly. “But if you want it back, I understand.” True to his word, the alpha offered her the figurine in his outstretched paw.

Saiph stared at the figurine for a long while, thinking of all the time she’d put into carving it. It may not have been perfect, but at the end of the day it was hers. It worried her sick when she thought it’d been lost or destroyed. Then she looked into Mirth’s eyes, the powerful alpha looking like a hopeful pup as he sheepishly regarded her.

“Sure,” she said, smiling. She gently closed his fingers around the figurine, pushing away his hand. “Keep it. I can always just make another.”

Mirth blinked, surprised, before his tail wagged and his smile grew. “I…” he paused, lost for words, as he looked between Saiph and the figurine. “Thank you.”

Iron Prospect

“Why did you do it?”

The question caused Iron Prospect to stumble.

“What?”

“You heard me, Iron. What made you conspire with the dogs?”

The two were traversing the Ravenwood, their destination still a ways away. The tranquil waters of the Guto off in the distance guided them, but after a close encounter with a thirsty, territorial stag, Short Order made it a point to avoid going too near the waters unless it was to refill their canteens. Mount Reins was in the distance, meaning they had a few more days of travel before Griffinstone revealed herself.

With the brisk, still morning and the blue sky came more exhausting walking. Fortunately, however, Short Order allowed Iron to continue at a more ponderous pace these past few days. The unicorn’s face, which had grown pale and sickly, was still mangled where he’d been attacked, and the tissue was scarring uglily, but he’d managed to prevent it from becoming infected by washing it and wrapping a fresh eye wrap over the damaged eye.

Iron remained silent, the question ringing through his head like a pickaxe chewing through an ore deposit. Something swelled in his chest, causing his hooves to become lead.

“Well?” Short Order’s voice snapped Iron back to the present.

“The last time I tried to explain myself, I lost two teeth,” Iron replied.

“Then do a better job this time.”

Iron glanced over his shoulder, finding Short Order watching him with his good eye.

Sighing, Iron Prospect said, “I wanted to keep everypony alive.”

“You walked us into a massacre and were too much of a coward to even stay and fight.”

Iron feebly shook his head, as if to banish the black fugue which threatened to suffocate him. "There wasn't anything I could do, Short Order. It was out of my control, I need you to understand that! Why can't you just..." Iron snorted.

"Who are you trying to convince here, Iron? Me or you?"

Iron grit his teeth. "How could you understand? How could anypony understand?" A pain, the cracks of his physical and emotional torment, peeled away his fortitude, the mantra he'd been telling himself: "I'm not the bad guy!" Turning to Short Order, he said, "Fine! I scorched it! Is that what you want to hear? That I made a mess of this and I can't reverse it no matter how much I want to? I tried to make the best of this doomed mission in this wasteland of a forest. I don't need you here beating me down day and night to try to make some stupid point!" Iron Prospect glared at Short Order, who looked back at him neutrally, before tearing his gaze away, mouth trembling. "I'm not the bad guy. I'm not."

“Princess Celestia will know of this, Captain. Seeing justice through is the only reason I haven’t tied cinderblocks to your fetlocks and marched you into the river.”

Ears splaying, Iron said, “I didn't mean to hurt anypony…”

Short Order shook his head. “Nopony ever does, Iron. But their blood is on your hooves.”

Iron took a careless step, tripping over a root and hitting the ground. The stallion placed his hooves over his head in a desperate bid to contain his sanity. A sob escaped him. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It wasn’t supposed to be like this…” He tearfully repeated the mantra several more times before gritting his teeth and trembling.

Short Order stared at him for a long moment, a torrent of emotions―anger, disgust, pity―playing across his face before it was again unreadable. The unicorn then came to a decision. A knife was pulled from his bandolier, the unicorn’s magical grip on it feeble.

Iron was still quivering on the ground when the blade tore through the air. His mewling was put to an end in an instant.

Looking up, the stallion curiously brought his hooves before his muzzle, finding the bindings had been severed. Iron absently rubbed his forelegs.

“You won’t be needing those. Not for the rest of the journey, at least,” Short Order said, staring off into the distance as he sheathed the blade. “You’re my brother, Iron. I hate you, but you always will be my brother.” He glanced at Iron, and there was a great weariness in his eye that eclipsed the usual cold fury burning within whenever he regarded his captain. “Here’s a good resting point for now. We’ll get back to it when the sun’s at its highest.”

Short Order lied on his belly, resting his chin on his hooves.

Iron Prospect watched the stallion for a short time, his gaze drifting back to his freed hooves before returning to Short Order. He dragged the rope from around his burned fetlocks before rolling onto his side. Try as he might, sleep would not take him. And so, he thought. He thought long and hard.

Cinder Quilt

Cinder Quilt stared at the morning sun through the window of the church. On his chest he wore the brand of the Followers of the Chosen Path, the mark red and still tender. The old stallion was in a small gallery, the only company being the bench he sat on as he awaited judgment. That was, until the door at the end of the passageway opened.

In stepped a member of the Choir, the stallion garbed in white with a rope sash tied above his waist. The stallion’s features were somewhat obscured by the voluminous hood he covered himself with, but it was clear by the wrinkles lining his face that he was only a bit less experienced than Cinder in the stress of time.

“The preparations are nearly complete. Sister Dawn will have you soon,” said the Choir member.

“I understand, sir.”

“Do you require any further considerations to make your new start as smooth as possible, Cinder?”

“I cherish your hospitality and concern, Beacon, but this old stallion wishes to put most everything behind him.”

“I do hope you are not implying what I believe you to be implying.”

Cinder Quilt gazed at Sterling Beacon impassionately.

The Choir member chuckled, taking a seat next to Cinder Quilt. He groaned, rolling his shoulders. “This ancient vessel isn’t what it used to be. And in comparison, you’re antiquity given flesh!”

Despite himself, Cinder Quilt found himself grinning, if only slightly. “I have seen but three springs more than you, Beacon.”

Beacon smirked. “As I said: old!”

Cinder Quilt snorted. His face became pensive. “Do you remember the first time we set hoof in this hall, brother?”

“Aye, ‘twas the day you were afraid Father Bloom would tell your mother you took two cookies from the offerings table despite knowing you were only to take one. You were trembling in that corner over there, praying to Divinity he would not notice.” The two shared a laugh. “I remember you attended every day for two months’ time after that incident.”

“And that was around the time you began your training for the Choir,” Cinder Quilt said.

Beacon’s smile became more forced. “Indeed it was.”

Cinder Quilt looked down. “She asked about you, you know. Mother was ever so proud that you were joining the Choir, but even before she was accepted into the Light, she asked about you.”

Beacon’s gaze fell to the floor. “I know.”

It was silent for quite some time, the two old friends simply enjoying one another’s presence.

Suddenly, the silence was broken, however, when Beacon said, “She only has our best interests in mind, Cinder. You understand this, do you not?”

Cinder Quilt stared ahead.

“What happened to your son was a tragedy, but… you must consider Sister Dawn’s duty to Brighthaven.”

“Where in our teachings was it said to toss colts into the wilderness for asking questions? You were the most skeptical of us all in the past, but look at you now: a member of the Choir!”

Beacon nodded solemnly, “But I eventually found the Light, Cinder.” Cinder Quilt turned his head. Placing his hoof on his friend’s shoulder, Beacon said, “Sister Dawn is where she is because she is able to make such decisions. You recall her sister, yes?”

“The one she banished beyond the wall as well?”

“For practicing heretical magicks, Cinder. Her black chants were meant to summon the vile tendrils of the Other. And Sister Dawn spared her not when she discovered what her sister had become, in spite of how much suffering it caused her. For she knew the health of Brighthaven was greater than her sister.

“You must confess, brother. Confess so that you may be accepted back into the flock.”

Cinder’s hair fell over his eyes, disguising the pony’s thoughts. “How can we be united under Celestia if we are willing to drown kin the moment they make a mistake?”

Beacon thought for a moment, but when he opened his mouth to answer, the door at the end of the gallery opened, in stepping another Choir member. Pulling his hoof away from Cinder, Beacon said, “The time has come, Cinder. Art thou prepared for thy baptisation?”

Nodding, Cinder raised his gaze determinedly. “I am, sir. I am prepared to confess.”

Mirth

Razor fretted over Mirth, replacing the bandages covering his scarred forearms.

Mirth took the pain in stride, nary a hiss escaping him. He was used to it by now.

“You sure you’re okay, Alpha?” said Razor, stepping back, refusing to meet Mirth’s gaze.

“Ask one more time and I’ll yank your tongue out, Razor. Scram.”

Razor quickly left, nearly bumping into Yen, who smirked at him, arms folded across his chest. Razor growled when he met the dog’s gaze, the scout slowly walking around him, watching him all the while.

Sneering at the runt, Yen walked into the room, which once served as the fort’s great hall, looking around at all the overturned, dust-laden tables and smashed vases. He made a disgusted face, pawpads reverberating from the walls as he strolled toward Mirth, who had his back to him, with his fingers interlocked behind his head.

“What a dump!” he said. “This place really could use some sprucing up, Alpha. Give it a few years and we might actually make one of these gryphonic landfills something cockroaches might consider worth their time.”

“Yen,” Mirth greeted, turning his head. “Have you sent for Cost?”

Nodding, Yen said, “Three of our fastest runners are relaying the message. The Rough Riders should be here by nightfall.”

“Good.”

“Just glad to be of help, Alpha. Now, if that’s that, then I should―”

“You’re not going anywhere just yet, Yen.”

Yen furrowed his brows. “Oh? Well, what else do you need me for, Alpha?”

Standing up, Mirth approached Yen, the dog looming over him. “Just a few questions for my most loyal dog.”

Yen blinked, feeling slightly apprehensive. “Sure thing, Alpha. Fire away.”

“Who were you before you showed up at my steps?”

Scratching his head, Yen replied, “No one, Alpha. I was just a rover before joining this pack.”

“And what made you decide to join this pack of all the packs in Warg’s Pass.”

Yen straightened, realizing exactly what this meeting was. Smiling, he said, “I’ve heard rumors. How you survived a blistering inferno, how you rose from the ashes and became the Phoenix… Dogs here believe you will unite every pack of Warg’s Pass under one Name once more.”

Mirth stared down at him. “Never took you for a fairy-tale peddler.”

Yen shrugged. “I don’t believe a whiff of it, Alpha.” He tapped his nose, grinning. “I’ve got a nose for winners. And you’re the strongest out there.”

“And what happens when I’m no longer the strongest, Yen?”

“That won’t happen, Alpha.” Yen crossed his arms. “Not soon, anyway.”

Mirth cracked a smile. “You were there, weren’t you?”

Tilting his head, Yen asked, “Where?”

“The Sapphire mines.”

Yen tensed. “What makes you say that.”

Tapping his nose, Mirth said, “I’ve got a nose for coat-tailers, ‘rover’.” Brushing past Yen, Mirth added: “But I’m not concerned with who the dogs in this pack once belonged to, not so long as they are tough and can get the job done. Schemers on the other hand…” he aimed a withering stare at his subordinate, Yen standing his ground. Mirth snorted, continuing to walk out of the great hall.

“What made you attack the Sapphires, anyway?” Yen called from behind him.

Mirth stopped a moment, his back to Yen. “Blindness.” He then exited the hall.

Yen was left alone in the decrepit hall, the dog clenching and unclenching his fist as he stared off into one of its few intact stained glass windows, the image depicting a wolf swallowing a tower and all the creatures within.

Saiph

Saiph and her squadmates were resting outside the walls of the fort, cradled in the bosom of the Ravenwood. She’d started carving another figure, hoping to create a sleeping filly this time, though it was still in its conceptual phase.

Vivid Root was fidgeting restlessly at his spot next to Lilac Cross, gritting his teeth as his ears twitched at every peep and whisper from within the woods.

“Everything’s too loud. Bucking forest, bucking mutts, bucking…” Vivid Root growled, standing up, taking a few steps, before retaking his seat next to Lilac Cross.

Lilac Cross gave him a sympathetic look, saying, “Viv, calm down. Why don’t we just―”

“Don’t tell me to bucking calm down, Lilac!”

Lilac Cross went silent.

Vivid Root’s ears splayed back, his wings twitching at his side as he wordlessly reached for Lilac’s hoof, only for Lilac to tense and not return the gesture. Vivid pulled his hoof away.

Chewing his tongue, the copper-haired thestral observed Saiph. “Why do you do that?”

Ears perking, the mare’s blue eyes were pulled to his. “Huh?”

Rolling his hoof, Vivid Root said, “The whole carving thing. Where’d you pick it up?” by way of elaboration.

Saiph looked down at the block of ravenwood in her hoof, peeling a layer away with her knife distractedly. “It’s just a hobby, I guess. I don’t remember when exactly I started doing it, but since we’re in the woods all the time…” she tilted her head left and right, hoping the message was conveyed well enough.

“Why do you do it?”

“It gives me something to do.” She smiled at Vivid Root. “I could teach you if you want.” Vivid Root shook his head in response. Saiph nodded in understanding, saying, “If you ever change your mind…”

Silence returned shortly after. Perichot was tearing patches of grass from the ground, lifting them and watching them shower to the earth. Saiph continued chipping away at the figure in her hooves. The wind caused Vivid Root to shiver, the pegasus huddling up closer to Lilac Cross, who huffed before hesitantly leaning into the contact.

Vivid Root’s tail lashed a few times, refusing to settle, his hoof tapping and his ears twitching. “Can I… You mind if I see the last one you were working on?”

Saiph looked up at Vivid Root questioningly before her eyes lit up in understanding. She gave him an apologetic look. “I… gave it to Mirth as a gift.”

It was silent for a moment. Perichot eyed her with a raised brow while Lilac Cross swept his gaze over the forest surrounding them, uncaring. Vivid Root’s unbruised eye twitched. “You… did what?”

Curling in on herself, Saiph quietly said, “He said he liked it…”

“You’re already warming up to that half-faced mutt!?” Vivid Root exclaimed, standing up. “Wonderful! Just great! Yet another one of you getting buddy-buddy with these no-good scum!”

“That’s enough, Vivid Root,” said Perichot.

“Well, pardon me, sir, but I feel like I’m the only one here with his head on his withers! The rest of you are licking this dog’s pawpads!”

“Watch yourself, Corporal,” Perichot icily said.

Vivid Root snorted. “You think that dog’ll keep his word? Just let us walk away after this? He shoves spikes into his own kind for a warm meal and a pat on the back from some shrivelled wetnose in a mountain! There’s no telling what he isn’t telling us!”

“I don’t trust him either, Vivid. He’s dangerous. But this is the best chance we have of putting this whole thing to rest.”

Saiph nodded. “He told us Teal Gulch and Jadalaque are in that mountain. We’re this close, so we can’t back out now. And we need to keep our promise to that old stallion about finding his son, too.”

“Buck that shambling prune! He’s the one who got us into this mess in the first place! Mirth even said so.”

“So Mirth wasn’t lying about that?” Lilac Cross said.

Vivid Root opened his mouth before it snapped shut. He let out a frustrated growl, pacing the clearing. “We need to leave. Now. We oughta just pack up our things, gather the caravan and wash our hooves of this moonforsaken mudhole!”

“But Teal and Jad―”

“They’re both dead, Saiph! And on the slim, molecular chance they aren’t, then we still have everypony else to worry about! We have to cut them loose and get out of here before we get wrapped up in something we can’t handle.”

“That’s not going to happen, Vivid Root,” declared Perichot, rising and walking until he was nose to nose with Vivid Root. “The dogs already know where the caravan is, and it’s our duty to cut off the head of anything that threatens us. We aren’t going to tuck our tails and run, not when two of our own, dead or alive, have been taken. You will cease questioning my orders, soldier, and this is an order!”

Vivid Root and Perichot glared at one another before Vivid Root huffed, looking away. He turned his attention to Lilac Cross for support, but the unicorn said nothing. He lied down a small distance away from Lilac, tail lashing restlessly.

Saiph glanced at him sympathetically, and when their eyes connected, he sagged for a moment before steeling himself and frowning at her. The Ravenwood grew darker as the sun dipped toward the horizon.

Vivid Root

Vivid Root snuck through the forest, wings tucked tightly against his body as his eyes shifted to and fro. The moon hovered brightly overhead, but the shadows were inky, the brush full; even a thestral’s eyes found difficulty in piercing the forest’s darkness on this night.

The hair on his neck stood on end when the ambience of the nocturnal steadily died down. Spinning on his hooves, he spotted Lilac Cross, the unicorn staring expressionlessly at him as he lit his horn, a soft light humming from the tip.

“You’re leaving,” he observed.

Vivid Root felt no less uneasy. “Yeah. I am.”

“You would betray us?”

“You kidding me, Lilac? I’m doing this for us!”

“We have our orders.”

“Buck that! You’re really gonna stand by some mutt and let our family get hurt because of your ‘orders’?” Lilac Cross’ gaze fell away from Vivid’s for a moment, the unicorn appearing to chew on the thought. “You know there’s something off about this, Lilac,” Vivid pressed. “Help me protect those of us who can still be saved. There’s still time!”

Lilac Cross’ eyes snapped back to Vivid’s, hardening. Walking around so that he was standing in front of Vivid, he said, “He has a plan. If you leave now, you’ll damn us all, Vivid. We could end all of this before the next moonrise if you just trust Perichot’s judgment.”

Vivid Root shook his head disbelievingly. “Get outta my way, Lilac. Every minute we waste arguing is a minute less the caravan has.”

As Vivid tried to step around him, Lilac Cross put a hoof in his path, his horn glowing threateningly as a small trail of blood dripped from his nose. “You’re not going anywhere, Vivid.”

Vivid Root narrowed his eyes at Lilac, the two staring one another down as the Mare in the Moon impassionately watched them from on high.