The last breathing Lord of the Sidhe took stock of what was arrayed before them, and despaired.

Of a force nearly two hundred and fifty strong, there remained less than a hundred. Of their own people, twenty still lived, and several would be long in healing, if they were not executed by the Master for failure in subduing a group of adolescent females who should have posed no threat with that blasted succubus bound and banished from the body she was puppeting. And now, more bad news…

“My Lords, none of those who went after the humans have returned…and any party we send to find them also never comes back.” Swallowing at the hard glare, the fae before them bowed low in apology. “…given what occurred here…we…suspect they have some way to counter possessions, severely limiting our efforts.”

The dark shadow at Itheadair’s right hissed mockingly. “It sssspeaks more to how usssselessss your lot have become if they are unable to round up unarmed mortal children, Itheadair-Anam. But it issss of no conssssequence. Let the rabble hide in their holes like rats—I am victorioussss, and ssssoon My return will be complete.” Dark talons lightly touched the throat of the girl the sidhe still held prisoner in their own grip—the deal Itheadair had made with the succubus was still binding, and thus, only they or the Master could touch her—leaving red marks on lavender skin as the Master tilted the girl’s face up to meet his gaze. “And with that damnable gutterborn whore dealt with, you belong to Me, girl.”

Itheadair kept silent, offering no thoughts or opinions…but secretly, the ancient fae had doubts. The Master had not seen…

A lesser being would have shuddered in fear. As it was, Itheadair’s nails twitched against Twilight Sparkle’s shoulder. The demon they had been so convinced was some form of concubi hiding in a human shell….Sunset Shimmer…was far more powerful than any of that kind ever known, and even now, bound by blessed silver and Name, its power flexed and struggled, fought against the binding and resisted banishment from its puppet body. It had broken the third eldest sidhe among their people, Proud Silverthorn, warrior of ten thousand battles, made the aged general of shining armies break ties and declare the cause lost and Itheadair in violation of the very liege oath made to protect their court from destruction.

Even now, they could feel the hooks it had on Twilight Sparkle’s soul. There had been true Fury in those eyes, and a force of presence when Sunset Shimmer had uttered their own Name in the deal, and acknowledged the fae leader as an equal in station.

No… a part of them whispered in Loyal Cànanach’s voice. Do not be fooled. The one Named Sunset Shimmer spoke to you as a Queen to one that had transgressed in Her lands, and you know that perfectly well.

Had Silverthorn been right?

“All hail the last Lord of the Sidhe, greatest of fools!”

And the magic brought forth by that challenger Queen’s own court had burned, more than a match for their people’s greater numbers and centuries of experience, and in all of them had burned a terrifying conviction.

“….no.”

Startled, Itheadair and the Master both looked to the girl in the sidhe’s grasp. Purple eyes glared with hate and grief at the towering, horned shadow, and she raised her own chin defiantly.

“What did you say, girl?” Darkness crackled around the form, the Master’s power feeding on the ambient magic in the air of the school around them.

“I said no. I don't belong to you, and I never will.” Despite the way her limbs shook, she stood under her own power, tears dripping down her face.

The Master chuckled nastily, before backhanding the girl so hard her glasses went sailing to one side and clattered to the ground. “You will learn how little your feelingssss matter ssssoon enough. You ssssigned away your ssssoul to Me, for Me to do with assss I ssssee fit. You sssserve My Will, and My Vissssion. Your upsssstart harlot’s dayssss of interference with her King’s affairssss is over, and I will enjoy sssshredding her essssence to piecessss sssslowly, ssssavoring her screamssss.”

Twilight Sparkle rocked from the blow, but she turned back. “She will stop you, and I will fight you at every opportunity until she does.”

The Master laughed again, and turned to Itheadair. “Prepare the ritual. I grow bored with the empty barking of a half grown bitch too sssstupid to acknowledge her place.” Those eyes burned into Itheadair. “Do not fail me.” He faded from sight, conserving his power for the ritual.

Sagging slightly, the girl shook as the adrenaline took its toll, something that others would mock, but the words struck a chord in the sidhe. Had they missed something? How could Sunset Shimmer have hooks in a soul signed over to the Master? It should not be possible. Had…had they missed a previous claim?

That was a terrible thought—that would mean that the Master had broken a tenant older than even Himself. It would mean that Sunset Shimmer’s actions were not rebellion, but tantamount to a declaration of war for the Master and those that served Him over a grievous error.

Itheadair, turned to the nearest of their remaining people. “Gather everyone who remains, and prepare to march as one directly out the exit doors to the ritual location. Have a dozen prepared to carry the power sources out and a dozen more to guard them. We cannot afford mistakes. Not now.”

They had no choice but to stay the course and try to save those who remained. Perhaps it would be enough.

You don't believe that, Proud-Silverthorn’s voice mocked them.

They really didn't.

“What…what of the succubus…my Lord?” a tremulous voice asked.

Nervous-Houndbane. Of course. “Take it to the storage room over there and leave it hidden for now. The Master desires to speak to it when He is returned.”

“Her name is Sunset,” one of the bound mortals snarled, tattered wings straining against the bonds. “Fucking use it, you ugly ass Legolas wannabe.”

“And she’s not a demon,” another said in a soft voice . “She’s our friend, and Twilight’s right—she will find a way to stop you.”

Itheadair stared them down, feeling the weight of millennia on their being. “She has no hope to challenge a god.”

The one who had been quick to call out Proud-Silverthorn earlier gave the sidhe a long, piercing look. “You would be surprised…Itheadair? I am saying that correctly, am I not?”

Features twitched in further shock. “You are,” the fae acknowledged tersely at the strange consideration from a captive.

“Right. Itheadair, darling, I am afraid my friends are quite right. Sunset has no fear of gods or demons. She has been one and fought the other before.” That smile was enigmatic, but…sad. “Nothing you can do will deter her when she is determined to see something through…”

“Ain’t too late,” the strong one pointed out, still standing despite the efforts of the shadow-chains binding her. “Ya kin still stop this. ‘Afore it ends too bad fer ya. Cuz Twilight ain’t the only one that ain’t gonna stop fighting.”

Motioning for the waiting underlings to pick up the prisoners, Itheadair gave nothing away. “You cannot bargain for your freedom. The Master will be returned and you will assure that the ritual succeeds.”

“Man, fuck you!” The mouthy one headbutted the first fae that got within reach. “Master this, Master that, it's like some creepy ass BDSM club in here every time you talk! You're all just a bunch of cowards who had to have your butts saved by cheating and sneak attacks!”

Ignoring the continued diatribe of profanity, Itheadair turned away, holding onto but otherwise ignoring Twilight--and the other mortals--as they oversaw the needed preparations.

And doubted.

Wondered.

If the one called Sunset Shimmer was no demon…what was she? What could challenge the Master’s power, affect deals with elder fae, manipulate and influence mortals on this scale, and fight the bindings sealed by Name?

Dark eyes tracked the body being dragged by several possessed students, reached out with senses that normally lay dormant to conserve energy…and recoiled after only a brief touch.

No succubus had a well of power that deep…

And few demons had a faint undercurrent of something so ancient and timeless.

What had the mortals said? She was no demon, and unbothered by gods? If she was not what they had thought…what was she? So much magic and power had gone out of the world in two millennia that almost nothing still survived to this day…not without being weak and half starved, or being fueled by some source that refused to fade.

A shiver crept up the sidhe’s spine. There had been legends once, from their early years, legends told by elders who had heard them from kin long since faded into myth…of ancient things, gods and monsters from the misty dawn of history…and so many of those tales spoke of those beings vanishing, but with an ominous tone of merely being dormant, not gone…and woe unto any that disturbed them.

Just what sort of Being had they awoken?

Author's Note

You know that saying about "Fuck around and find out?" Cinch maybe realized that they have all fucked around, and is now terrified of what they will find out.

Aided of course by Sunset's friends being cryptic and also defiant.

And yeah, Twilight's upset. She's captive, but she's not a total damsel. She's still trying to spit in Sombra's eye. They all are, really. Good for them.

Sounds like the losses for the villains have been...substantial. And the "leave none alive" policy from the students who grew up on video games has blinded their enemy to what is going on.

Oh dear. Sounds like a very bad day.