Gates to Renascence

by Material Defender

Rating: teen
Tags: Alternate Universe, Human, Original Character, Adventure, Princess Celestia, Main 6, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark
Length: 104477

To save his lands, a prince must seek the past and the secrets it holds.

A prince is called to action to save his people's home, a land forever scarred by the battles of ages past against the one they know as the Trickster; to the Equestrians, they know his descendant as Discord. His legacy stretches far back into time, where the first rulers of the humans first brought their own tools to bear against his nightmarish reign of old and banished him to the depths of the void, but only now are his seals truly beginning to weaken. With the second release and re-imprisonment of Discord, it sets off a series of events that threaten to swallow the humans' Renascent Empire whole and turn their legacy into another dark age. With limited options, the prince turns to their heralded saviors of the sun and moon to aid them in their quest in the hopes that they can end the threat, once and for all.

Published 2012-10-08 08:10:02 UTC
Last updated 2014-03-23 18:23:43 UTC

II: Different Lands

C h a p t e r 2 :

D i f f e r e n t L a n d s

The Paragon of the Sun is what we called her, and what we still know her as. In one of our ancestors’ darkest hours, in the midst of a losing battle against the legions of chaos, she came forth from her own lands to help combat the great evil of the Trickster, her golden armor and resplendent form an awe-inspiring spectacle to all who viewed her. Though she did not directly defeat the Trickster, we could not have been victorious without her. She will be remembered forever in the history of our Empire, and for that, we have constructed the Obsidian Spire as a tribute to her heroism, a single sun etched into each side as reverence for her deeds.

-Liberation: The History of the Empire and the Paragon, Historian Markus, 1332 RY

“So, tell me, my liege,” Artim asked as he dug around Kandro’s notes, as the others waited in the courtyard of Fort Kahir outside, preparing for their journey to Equestria on foot.. “What do you know about Equestria?”

Their group had departed from Renascence at their earliest convenience and under the cover of night, so that they could travel unhindered. Ghiraza and the Imperial Council would be given the authority to rule over the military and domestic affairs, respectively, but the transition was not needed; the Council had been ruling in the Emperor’s stead for the months past, but all were quite terrified to know that the Trickster was involved.

“Well, for one thing, they don’t seem to like sandrunners... they are a vegetarian people, correct?” Kandro said.

“Indeed, you are correct, sire,” Artim said. “Due to the abundance of fertile land and edible vegetation, they are able to sustain themselves quite readily through such foods alone, and the prolonged maintenance of sandrunners and their diet of meat would only cause problems in the long run. What else do you know?”

“Well, I’ve heard that—”

Artim clicked his tongue. “No, my liege, I’m not asking what about you’ve heard. I’m asking about what you know. What else do you know about Equestria?” Unhappy with the state of the light in the room, he ignited the unused candles on the tabletop with a wave of his hand.

“I... do know that the lands are green. Very green, almost strangely so,” Kandro said. “And that they can control the weather and move around clouds as if they were nothing but another boulder in desert.”

“Both true. The Equestrians have almost complete control of their magic to the point where they can control even the functions of nature. Here in the Empire, rainfall is a blessing, but most of our farmlands sit along the Roaring River that runs through the center of our lands.”

“Yes, and directly by Renascence, providing the majority of the irrigation for our farmlands. How long has it been since we’ve contacted the Equestrians?” Artim shook his head at Kandro’s notes and beckoned them to move outside, exiting just behind a pair of soldiers carrying down bags full of dried provisions for their journey.

“With lack of a better explanation, my liege, too long,” Artim said. A glow of magic surrounded his hands as he levitated his packs to himself, giving a nod to Tehin as they began to move towards the rarely-used eastern gates. “There’s no telling what to expect, but last I heard, they did have a recent rash of chaos energies being unleashed in their own world. Aside from that, it’s been completely quiet... hence why we are all coming along with you.”

“I wonder if they use bows in Equestria,” Reugas wondered out loud. “They don’t have hands, so...” He patted his back, a trio of quivers stuffed to the brim with arrows. “Can’t be too sure, right, sire? I might just end up having to use all of these!” He laughed heartily as he walked to the gate, the only one amused at his own joke.

“That man’s sense of humor worries me,” Sehyia said.

“It is all in jest, Sehyia,” Tehin said, lumbering over after the ranger. “Though he does have trouble knowing when to use his humor...”

Yhimit stood unmoving, merely observing the rest of the Pillars’ conversations as he moved along their group’s direction. His nondescript face mask aside, Yhimit’s appearance with his hood and swords almost made him seem inhuman... his reputation had certainly alluded as such, detailing hundreds of griffon casualties at his blade, and subsequent brutality as Yhimit was the only one in the entire Empire who was willing to do the most insulting of acts to their enemy: he clipped their wings.

“...sire?” Sehyia touched Kandro on the arm, bringing him back to reality. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine, I was just... thinking,” Kandro said, thankful now that Yhimit had not decided to stare back at him... though there was definitely the odd feeling that he most certainly was. “Let us depart immediately.”

“Good,” Artim said. “The length of Kahir Pass will span almost entirely through the Blackridge Mountains. If our visibility isn’t reduced to near-zero conditions in all the winds and blinding sand, we might be able to make it through within a half-day, at least.”

Soldiers hollered to each other in the towers as the sound of ancient metal quaking to life began to shudder the aged stone walls of the fortress. The massive gates slowly parted, revealing the stretching passage beyond. Reugas simply whistled in response. “That’s going to be one damn long walk,” he said, looking over his shoulder and rubbing the top of his leather cap. “It’s no wonder why no one’s tried to walk through here... a single accident could leave a man stranded in there for days.”

“We are six, and I doubt that we will have much in the way of problems,” Kandro said. His boots crunched on dirt untouched for decades, as he walked ahead of the group, staring down the length of the pass. “We certainly have our task cut out for us.”

“Of course, sire,” Reugas said. “We bring back the Elements, kill the Trickster—again, and permanently this time—then we bring back magic into our lands, we all celebrate and have good times, and everything’s all fantastic, right? Why, nothing can go—”

“Shut up,” Sehyia said. “Or we’ll be cursed to fail before we even begin due to your blabbering mouth.”

“Ah, you wound me, Sehyia,” Reugas sarcastically responded, imitating a pose as if he had been stabbed. “But, fine, if you don’t want me to offend your superstitious sensitivities, then I’ll refrain from tempting fate for the remainder of our mission.”

“Really, Reugas,” Tehin said. “Were it not for your great skill as a ranger, you would have lost your tongue long ago. You’re even worse when you’re drunk, and I’ve seen you drunk enough times to know to leave when you are.”

“Yes, sometimes I forget that I’m a ranger, too,” Reugas said, chuckling. “But don’t worry, my prince, I shall be the first to plant a line of arrows into anything that so much as growls in our direction, you have my word on that.” He tapped the bow stored on his back.

“I’m sure we can count on you,” Artim said, patting the ranger on the shoulder as he walked past him. “Bravely fighting the hordes of chaos as he stands behind his valiant and willing comrades raining down arrows in safety.”

“Aw, come on... I’m no coward. I can still fight with... swords... and things... and what about you? Shooting magic from your fingertips like some sort of wizard.”

“The proper term is arcanist, Reugas, and the few that are like me prefer utilizing our magic up close. Harder to miss that way, and you get to see the results of your handiwork up close. Now, stop talking, and let’s move. We’re burning daylight here.”

The journey was mostly uneventful, almost to the point of mind-boring insanity had they not been saved by Tehin’s never-ending treasure trove of hilarious stories that he had experienced during his time in the legions. Skies remained mostly unobscured the whole time, at least giving them the privilege of getting their bearings during both day and night.

For the most part, their entrance into Equestria was quiet, and without much fanfare. The lush forest they entered practically covered them in shade as they first stepped in uncertainty, Artim being the only one gutsy enough to walk through the trees without much wariness.

“Ugh... it stinks,” Reugas immediately commented. “The stench is practically everywhere. What in the name of my undergarments is that smell?”

“That, my friend, would be the smell of trees,” Artim said. “Lots of them.” He kneeled down, scooping up a handful of dirt as he brought it to his nose. “Dirt... not sand. Certainly not dry at all...”

“There are lots of inquisitive eyes watching us,” Reugas said, his eyes darting around the bushes near them as he caught curious forms moving from brush to brush, but keeping their distance. “Animals. They all seem to act all the same, when you get down to the basics...”

“Uh, Artim...?” Sehyia nervously asked. “The sun is going down, um... did we happen to bring any torches, by chance?”

“Why, no, I’m afraid not, Sehyia,” Artim said. “But fear not, we can simply make do with what we have.” He snapped off a stick from a nearby tree and wrapped a single end with a ball of vines swiped off from some hanging branches. “Oh, how wondrous it must be to live in a land where nature gives you everything you need to survive...”

“What are you doi—oh,” Reugas said as Artim ignited the vine-wrapped end, creating a makeshift torch. “I keep forgetting how you can throw around fire like we breathe air... should be careful if you learn how to ignite the air in our lungs,” he muttered to himself.

“Years of practice,” Artim said. “And lots of burn marks, as you can evidently tell from my bandages. Fire took the longest to master because it was the most unforgiving of mentors. Mistakes often leave permanent reminders on how to channel the magic. And now... well, that’s a problem.”

“What’s wrong?” Tehin asked, his hands already working on making his own torch.

“Well... take a look at the ground,” Artim said. “I don’t mean any offense to our equine friends here, but I don’t think they bothered to keep the road leading to the Empire in working condition. Or at all, really. Was there even a road here? I forget.”

“It raises questions as to whether or not they are aware that this is a completely unprotected road leading to a nation who has seen its fair share of wars and then some,” Tehin said. “Perhaps our liberators merely had faith placed in us to... well, not attack them.”

“True. We have no reason to attack the Equestrians, and more than owe them our lives for essentially stemming the tide of extinction from swallowing our people whole,” Artim said, handing over another freshly-made torch to Sehyia. “Still, an overgrown forest as our first sight isn’t exactly reassuring. I had assumed there to be another fort here, perhaps, a sister to Fort Kahir at the opposite end. Yet there is nothing.”

“They probably have their own affairs to attend to,” Reguas said, batting away several bugs that now began to flitter around his torch. “Damned insects.” He walked forward a few steps and heard his foot step into something squishy, before giving a groan and continuing forward. “I think I liked it back in Kradrin better. Drier than hot sands, but at least we didn’t have to deal with stepping into turds all the time.”

“Feel anything that wants to tear our guts out for dinner, Reugas?” Tehin called.

Reugas laughed loudly. “Ha! Surprisingly, no. I know golden lions and savannah leopards would gladly take any moment we stop to brutally flank us from all directions and tear us limb from limb, but here... there is nothing. Perhaps the Equestrians have greater hold on their animals than we do.”

“So, then...” Kandro said, drawing his sword. “Anyone have any suggestions to where we should go?”

“Simple,” Reugas said. “We go east. See, we have the pass’ entrance over there, we’re standing over here, so all we have to do is walk in the opposite direction, right?”

“Perhaps, but I brought a map,” Artim said, reaching into his pack and retrieving a scroll that looked like it was about to fall apart. “Uh, this is about a century old, an old map gained through trade with an extremely questionable merchant, but I believe the geography should have remained the same.”

“So, which way do we go then?” Kandro asked. A rogue vine flew by his face and he responded in shock by cutting it through it with a clean swing. “The sooner we can get out of this forest, the better...”

“We head... hmm... east. It says there’s a recently settled town by the name of Ponyville nearby,” Artim said, rotating the map left and right as he tried to make sense of it. “But it’s probably a proper town by now, though, given how much time has passed. Now, come on. Let’s hope we can find a town before we end up running into something that wants to take a bite out of us.”

“That makes about... how long now? Honestly, my boots are too thin to be dealing with such uneven terrain...”

“Sehyia, if you’re going to keep complaining, how about I just carry you on my back?” Tehin offered.

“Oh, um... that’s... not really needed. I think I’m fine. Thank you for the offer, though.”

“Artim, does the map say just how big this forest is?” Kandro asked, holding his torch above his head to see if the tree canopy was still as thick as it had been when they first arrived. A tiny speck of bright moonlight shone through above him, though the covering of thick leaves still prevented guidance through the skies.

“It’s... well, I’m not really sure. This map was certainly not drawn to scale,” Artim said angrily. “It even says that in the bottom right... fires ablaze, I am going to replace this map with a new one after this is all said and done. The entire cartography department will be combing through this entire forest!”

“I smell something... fruity,” Reugas said.

“You smell plenty of things,” Tehin said. “I’m surprised the first thing you smelled didn’t happen to be alcohol, given how you also seem to be having some whenever I see you.”

“Time and place for everything, Tehin, and now is not a good time for alcohol,” he said. “Now shut your trap and open your nostrils. Can you smell that? Fruit, and some musk of... vegetables, of some sort. We must be getting close to a settlement.”

“How are you able to smell that?” Kandro asked.

“Years of practice,” Reugas said, smiling. “You pick up lots of things when you train to become a ranger. Like, for instance, that there has been a pack of animals, predators most likely, following us since... oh, I don’t know... the last time I coughed.”

“That was probably... hours ago, at least,” Sehyia said. “Is that why you hold your bow now?”

“Indeed. They know that I know, that that’s all that matters. Only a foolish animal would dare attack a predator that readily expects its approach.” He notched an arrow into the string. “And they seem to be growing bolder as they observe our journey. Be ready for them.”

Yhimit tapped Artim on the shoulder, directing the arcanist’s attention towards an eastern direction with a point of his finger. Several whispered questions were answered with a nod before Artim stored his map, no longer requiring the services of outdated cartography. “Well, it would seem that Yhimit has found a way out.”

“How so?” Kandro asked. “I see nothing of the sort in that direction.”

“Well, not from where you’re standing. But from here, I can see something, and it looks like a wooden shack.”

“A wooden shack? This place is full of dangers,” Reugas said. “The ponies must be brave or stupid to have settled down so close to this forest. So, you say it’s that way...?” He stepped forward, squinting through the darkened treeline as he caught the faded red of a painted shack in the moonlight. “Hmm, I think you may be onto something there, Yhimit.”

A rustle in the bushes behind them turned their heads, the dim light revealing a pair of glowing eyes and wooden faces staring back at them. The newfound wolves began circling them, determined to confront them but still holding their distance as they continued to size them up.

“Those wolves...” Artim said slowly. “...are made of wood.”

“Yeah...” Kandro said, waving around his torch to deter the creatures. “And wood burns, doesn’t it...?”

“What’s the problem here?” Tehin asked. “It’s just a small pack, only five of them. We could easily—” He turned his head right as he heard louder growling, a larger pack of more than a dozen wolves entering their clearing. “Damn. Well, that’s going to be a problem.”

“Sword and torch,” Sehyia said to Kandro. “I doubt this will be much of a problem. We already have such ample experience fighting against quadruped creatures through our conflicts with the griffons alone.”

“Not wise to underestimate beasts, Sehyia...” Reugas said, pulling back his bowstring and holding a solid aim on one of the larger wolves. “They don’t give in to bluffs as easily as griffons do...”

The sound of metal grinding against metal ringed through the area as Yhimit stabbed his torch into the ground, unsheathing his own swords. Curved blades glinted in the moonlight as intimidating visage caused the wolves to step back, his emotionless white mask preventing them from gauging the disciple’s reaction.

“Yhimit certainly has the right idea,” Reugas said. “But this can go one of two ways: they will either see it as a challenge... or they will realize that we are more trouble than we’re worth, and they will back off.”

The lumbering alpha wolf behind the lines of the lessers snarled at them and howled.

“...and it looks like they’re taking the challenge,” Artim said. “Enough is enough.” His hands glowed orange as he began to channel the element of fire through his hands, crouching down to deliver a powerful stream of potent flames at the wolves. “Stand back, all of you... this is going to get ugly.”

“Ah, right,” Reugas mused casually. “I keep forgetting we have an arcanist with us. Yeah, sure, just go ahead with it, I guess. Nothing deters predators more than being spontaneously lit on fire.”

They quickly moved behind Artim as the arcanist’s hands pulsated with blinding orange light now, and with a stretch of his arms and the telltale sound of flames rushing forth, he ignited a line in the ground directly in front of them, catching several of the wolves in the process. The burning creatures howled in pain as their comrades quickly shrunk back, unwilling to meet the same fate as their friends.

Standing at the perimeters, they continued to circle them until Artim's hands began glowing again, inadvertently catching his torch in the process and causing the wolves to flee. Whimpers echoed throughout the forest as they quickly retreated back to their dens, leaving them alone in the darkness.

“Well, that went well,” Artim said, tossing the chunk of ash that used to be his torch to the ground. “I’d use my own hands as a torch, but as you can see, that’s probably not a good idea. Fire doesn’t like to stay put.” He chuckled as the last of the wolves disappeared into the deep woods, tails between their legs. “Worth the results, though, if one can manage it.”

“...um, excuse me...?” a meek voice called from behind them. They turned around to see a yellow pegasus standing there, watching them with nervous eyes from behind her pink mane. “I saw what happened and... um, I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t do that to the wolves...”

The group merely exchanged confused glances between each other until Reugas broke the awkward silence.

“Damnit, Artim, look what you’ve done. You’ve gone and woken up one of the locals.”

“Oh, my...” Fluttershy said, as Tehin graciously poured her another cup of tea. “Thank you, mister. So, all six of you are from... out northwest, beyond the Everfree Forest?”

“Is that what they call it now?” Artim said loudly. “Damn... now there’s going to be a lot of reorganization at the library after we’re done with this place...” he muttered, scribbling frantically in the piece of parchment he had before him.

“Indeed we are,” Kandro said. “We are here to ask something of your ruler, the Paragon of the Sun. We need her help, and it is extremely important that you bring us to her, Miss Fluttershy.”

“I think I can help... if it’s really that important, I can get my friend Twilight to help you. She’s the personal student of this, um... paragon. She is our princess here.”

“A princess? So she’s taken up a title...” Artim said, nodding as he again scribbled in his notes. “Ah, where is she situated at, I might ask? Er, to clarify: where is her seat of power and primary city of residence?”

“Where she lives?” Fluttershy asked, shooing away Angel as he gave the entire group of humans the stink eye; one which Tehin heartily laughed at and Reugas eagerly returned. “Oh, um, she lives up at Canterlot... that’s the city right on the side of the mountain, but it’s kind of hard to see at this time of night...”

“Right... mm-hmm...” Artim continued. “Well, I suppose that’s enough for now. It’s important that I get all of these down, you understand... accurate representation and all that for the books. If you wouldn’t mind, could you perhaps fetch your friend Twilight for us? If the night is not safe, one—or perhaps all of us—can escort you.”

Fluttershy smiled. “Thank you, but I—”

The door slammed open as a sky-blue pegasus stood with a smile on her face. “Hey, ‘Shy, I got all the girls and—guh!” Yhimit, who had been waiting next to the door had drawn his sword as soon as she had opened her mouth, holding it precariously under her throat. “Uh...” she said, her eyes looking around the room as she smiled awkwardly. “What’s going on in here, ‘Shy?”

“Fluttershy, what’s going on in there?” another unicorn mare called from outside. “Who are these... things? And why do they all seem to be wearing armor? Oh, I can’t complain with that shade of red, though...”

“Hmm, someone has refined taste,” Sehyia sang. “Yhimit, lower your blade. We’re not here to cause an incident.” Yhimit complied, nodding as he sheathed his sword and gave the pegasus some breathing room.

“I’m sorry, Dash,” Fluttershy said, “but I found them in the Everfree Forest and they were trying to fight off some timberwolves, and then I found them and they asked me for help, so... I brought them to my treehouse.”

“And what a treehouse it is,” Reugas said. “Imagine that. Making homes. Out of trees. Practically impossible where we come from, but mostly because we don’t really have trees.”

“Oh, my goodness,” said another unicorn, stepping in front of Dash and excitedly looking around the room. “Are you all from the... Renascent Empire?”

“Yes, we are,” Kandro answered. “I believe introductions are in order. I am Prince Kandro, heir to the throne of the Renascent Empire, and these are my companions: Artim, Tehin, Reugas, Sehyia, and Yhimit.”

“Wow, I can’t believe you’re actually here...” Twilight said. “Oh, goodness, I need parchment and a quill...”

“I have some,” Artim said, procuring a set of parchment and a quill from his own pack. “Immediate inclination to take notes... are you a scholar, by chance?”

“Well, I guess I sort of am...” the unicorn said, chuckling as she smiled to herself, jotting down a few notes on the paper. “I’m Twilight Sparkle, personal student of Princess Celestia. I see you’ve already met Fluttershy, and gave an, um... interesting welcome for Rainbow Dash over there.”

“Celestia... so that’s her name...” Artim said, adding the note. “So many things we don’t know! Imagine the exchange of information we could have! The history we could learn! The notes we could share!”

“I know, right?” Twilight said, frantically writing in her own notes as she kept giving repeated glances at the humans, adding in crude sketches on their attire. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever asked the Princess about your lands! I should really get around to that now, actually...”

“Seriously, what’s with the get-up, you guys?” Dash asked. “You look like you came to... oh, I don’t know, slay monsters or something. You wear more armor than Celestia’s royal guard!”

“And look at that feller,” an orange earth pony said. “He’s even bigger than my brother!”

“Applejack, it’s rude to stare, even if he does seem to be some sort of walking tower of steel,” the alabaster unicorn said. “Oh, where are my manners? I am Rarity, Ponyville’s local fashionista. It’s a pleasure to meet you all.”

“Wow!” A pink earth pony appeared over Tehin’s shoulders, giggling as the man nearly jumped at her sudden appearance. “He’s really tall! You know what would be great right about now? A party! I mean, we were already going to have a party because tonight was supposed to be game night at Fluttershy’s house, but this is totally better!”

“Pinkie Pie!” Applejack said. “Get down from his shoulders this instant! Don’t you know it’s rude to just walk around and hop up on strangers’ shoulders like that!”

“It’s fine,” Tehin said. “So, you say you like parties?”

“Yeppity-yep! I’m Ponyville’s premier party pony!” she exclaimed. “Everypony that’s new in town gets one! Even if they aren’t a pony!”

“Haha, I like your exuberance, pink one!” Tehin said, tossing her up into the air as Pinkie happily squealed. “How big are these parties you host?”

“Really big! Everypony in town is invited for parties, especially if it’s for someone new!”

“Is there alcohol?” Reugas asked, ever the blunt one.

“Sometimes,” Pinkie responded, laying on top of Tehin’s helmet. “That’s usually a contribution from Berry Punch, Ponyville’s alcohol provider. She likes it a lot herself, actually.”

“Then I shall challenge Tehin to a drinking match when we get the chance,” Reugas said, shaking his fist at him. “I will beat you this time! I wasn’t known for being able to drink everyone in Kradrin under the table for a reason, you know!”

“Then we shall do it with Equestrian liquor,” Tehin challenged. “May the First bless you in your feeble attempts to out-drink me!”

“Please, you two, can we get back to business?” Sehyia asked, frowning. “We do have a crisis on our hands here. Lest you wish the Emperor was here to whip you into doing your duties.”

“Fine,” Tehin said, setting Pinkie down on the couch next to him. “Let us conduct business!”

“Um, Twilight,” Fluttershy said. “Prince Kandro here needs to talk to the Princess as soon as possible. He says it’s really important.”

“Oh, yeah?” Dash asked. “How important? How do we know that you guys aren’t just some team of ninjas sent here to kill the Princess? I mean, you’re all carrying swords and stuff!”

“I swear on my honor,” Kandro said. “And those of my comrades. They came along to guard me in this mission. If you require further proof,” he said, detaching the sigil on his armor, “then simply present this to her. It is the seal of our Empire, and I hope it still holds meaning to her. If not, then do mention that the followers of the Paragon of the Sun wish to speak with her.”

“Paragon of the Sun...?” Twilight said. “Wow... I haven’t heard that name used for the Princess since old times, back during her conflict with Discord.”

“Discord,” Artim sharply said. “Who or what is that? Please, tell us, for it is very important that we know that information.”

“Uh... Discord?” Dash said. “You know... Elder God of Chaos and Disharmony? He got released a long while back, totally threw everything for a loop for a bit.”

Artim looked at Kandro worryingly, making Twilight curious. “So... why do you need to know?” she asked. “What’s going on over there?”

“So he... that bastard! Why is an incarnation of the Trickster still alive?” Kandro asked. “We thought we had banished him years ago, yet now we learn that he’s had an alternate form running amok for some time now.. If this is true, then the release of Discord from his prison has only made matters in our homeland even worse. This Discord is possibly the catalyst for the release of the Trickster!”

“The Trickster?” Twilight asked. “Discord isn’t really that bad,” Twilight said. “Sure, he just wants to plunge the land into chaos, but most of the time, from what the Princess had told me, he just wants to play pranks like turning clouds into cotton candy and rain chocolate milk.”

“That’s what my father was trying to warn me about,” Kandro continued. “This Discord’s presence with his energies of chaos have awakened the Trickster in his banishment. Please, Twilight, the Trickster is nothing like your kind have ever known. You may have heard tales of his reign of terror in the olden days, correct?”

“Yeah, but those were mostly just foals’ tales to scare the youngin’s into behavin’, right?” Applejack said. “It’s not like it was true or anythin’.”

“Oh, it is very true,” Artim said. “The Trickster ravaged our home with entire armies full of chaotic creatures in the ancient times. His reign of terror lasted for many days and nights, driving our own kind to the brink of extinction as he siphoned the magic from the lands of our home to fuel his conquests elsewhere.”

“Like Equestria,” Twilight said, holding a hoof to her mouth in realization.

“Indeed. He still had the means to fight us at home, though, and that is why we could not stand against him; his armies were too strong, too great for us to fight, and he relished in the purest form of chaos: war and other such brutal means were his preferred methods for doing so, and we suffered the worst of it at the hands of himself and his minions... namely, the griffons.”

“I’ve heard of wars going on in the west,” Rarity said. “Mostly whispers of things to come from the grapevine of higher society. Many of our upper-crust have investments in griffon ventures, so it must have been greatly important.”

Reugas laughed sourly. “Important, yes. Our Empire has been at war, or at the very least, maintains high tensions with the griffon state. They are the spawn of the Trickster, brought to wage war on us, taking thousands of lives. We have not forgotten what they have done.”

“This is just... overwhelming,” Twilight said, continuing to take notes with shaky hold on her quill. “I had no idea that the griffons did such things. I mean, I know that they were around even back then, but to think that Discord—er, the Trickster used them to harm others is just... wow.”

“Our relations with them have never been nice,” Artim reiterated. “But they are not the cause of our current problems. We need to speak to the Princess immediately, for we need her help. Can you help us, Twilight Sparkle?”

“I’ll do my best.” She turned to look at Dash, who was merely lazing about on the couch. “Dash, go fetch Spike. And tell him to bring parchment and ink. We’re going to need them.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Dash said, saluting. She exited the door and took off into the night for the town of Ponyville, leaving the group in a palpable silence.

“So... what do you know of the Elements of Harmony?” Artim asked quietly.

“The Elements of Harmony...?” Twilight asked slowly, unsure of what to give for an answer. “Well... I know that there are six of them: honesty, kindness, laughter, generosity, loyalty, and... magic.”

“Of course, like in the books,” he said, nodding. “All six are needed to live a life free from the terror of the Trickster, and as such, were paramount in his defeat. However, it seemed that the Elements themselves are not capable of destroying such powerful evils, and the requirement of a powerful relic from one of our past rulers was needed to seal him away.”

“Well, then why not use that instead?”

“It’s complicated," he stated; it was a simple answer for an extremely complicated incident. “The trouble is that we cannot find where the weapon is located. The tomb of that very ruler was built in the desert, but over the years, its reputation and location have changed many times, to the point where many believed that it is cursed.”

“Cursed?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “Cursed how?”

“Cursed as in all who seek the Tomb of the First Emperor are not only doomed to fail, but to also lose their lives. At first, it was a small number of scholars, eccentrics dedicated to finding a possible solution to our Empire’s absence of magic in its lands. Then, eventually, as magic became a controlled commodity, we needed a way to bring back our lands and make them habitable again. Many years were spent looking for solutions, and the belief that the relic held great magical power that could revitalize what was lost came to a fever pitch."

“...and so my father launched the infamous Lost Expedition,” Kandro took over. “It was a massive one, filled with a plethora of great minds and brave soldiers, and launched just a over half a century ago. When they ventured into the desert, all contact was lost with them, and all of their supposed tracks in the desert were completely wiped out.”

“That sounds terrible,” Twilight said. To lose oneself in the pursuit of something greater had sounded like something poetic to her... when put like this, she wasn’t sure she thought that anymore. “What happened afterwards?”

“The rumors of it being cursed spread. That the expedition itself did find the tomb, but all were lost within, to join the ranks of the deceased inside. The tomb supposedly has magical properties, allowing it to shift its location and deter any curious explorer with heavy sandstorms, which in themselves are already very capable of taking lives. That is why we dare not search for it, and would rather prefer to use the Elements of Harmony instead.”

“I see...” Twilight said, nodding. “Then I’ll do my best to help.” Kandro handed her the sigil as she began to write her letter, until the sound of shouting could be faintly heard coming from outside. Yhimit opened the door to investigate, only to dodge out of the way for the incoming form.

“...coming through!” a voice shouted from outside. A blur of sky-blue feathers and a screaming purple dragon came blowing in through the open door as Yhimit quietly closed it after them. “Twilight, I... I got him!” Dash huffed.

“Sheesh, what’s with the rush...?” Spike asked, opening his eyes to see more than just ponies staring back at him. “Oh.”

Twilight ended her letter with a quick flourish, rolling it up around the sigil and handing it to Spike. “Spike, send this letter to Celestia. It’s important.”

“Sure, Twilight.” With a belch of green fire, the scroll disintegrated, taking its accompanying metal object along with it. “So, what’s the hurry with—urgh.” With another belch, another scroll came flying from his maw, smacking straight into Twilight’s face. The unicorn quickly unrolled it, ignoring Spike’s moans and looked directly at Kandro, who eagerly awaited her answer.

“Princess Celestia wants to speak with you immediately.”

III: Ancient Ties

C h a p t e r 3 :

A n c i e n t T i e s

At the height of mankind’s darkest hour, the First Emperor, name forever unknown, amassed the last of his army at Fortress Tyehl. There, against massive legions of the Trickster, the First, along with a trusted council of mankind’s greatest arcanists at the peak of his empire’s power, channeled great and powerful energies to bring about the end of the Trickster while his men bravely fought off the tides of abominations outside. However, without the intervention of the Paragon of the Sun and her earlier use of the Elements of Harmony, it is assumed that the ritual to forever rid the land of the Trickster would not have succeeded. The First and all his men perished following the ritual, and the tomb has seemingly disappeared, eluding even the best trackers today.

-The First Emperor, Historian Markus, 1335 RY

Artim cackled madly as Twilight Sparkle disappeared in a flash of bright purple magic. “Teleportation!” he gleefully shouted. “Teleportation, my liege! I cannot even believe my own eyes!”

“Is that such a good thing?” Rarity asked, shocked by the break in Artim’s calm demeanor.

“Is it? She has performed in a single casual act what it has taken entire decades of our own arcanists to even prototype! Just a flash of magic, and then, she’s gone! Unbelievable!” he huffed.

“Well, they have been using magic far longer than we have,” Sehyia mentioned.

“No, not longer...” Artim corrected. “In fact, if our histories are correct, we only appeared a mere short time after the equine race sprouted. By all means, we should have been equally capable with magic as they are; our research into the pre-Trickster Era Empire has shown conclusive evidence of that.”

“Then that old bag had to swipe our magic, of course,” Reugas said. “Imagine that... if I could fire magic arrows out of this bow...” He hefted the bow in his hands and plucked the string, the lilting sound the string made music to his ears.

“If you could, then it would be a nightmare to behold,” Tehin said, laughing as Pinkie Pie hung around his shoulders. “Not that it would do you any good, though. Last I heard, the rangers didn’t allow magic tricks to alter their usage of the bow.”

“Bah, those purists,” Reugas spat back. “It’s all ancient tradition back from Kradrin. Every ranger is a master of his bow, and the training fits to match. But if I want to use a little bit of magic to ‘enhance’ my capabilities, they get angry about it.”

“Magic isn’t all that common from where y’all are from, huh?” Applejack asked.

“Not really,” Kandro said. “The lucky few are usually nobility, and those that aren’t get sent to the scholar city of Lherren for study as an arcanist.”

“Yeesh, that must suck,” Rainbow Dash said. “So how’s the weather over there? You don’t have enough magic for the land, so how do the clouds work?”

“Hot and dry,” Reugas said. “We barely have any clouds as it is. Just nothing but dust, wind, and sand. And if you’re lucky, maybe some weeds. Even the savannahs only survive due to their proximity to the Roaring River.”

“And you’re a really strange creature...” Tehin said, poking at the scales in Spike’s back. “You are a dragon, yes?”

“Uh, duh,” the young drake responded. “Never seen one before?”

“Heard of them, never really seen one,” Tehin said, shrugging.

“Hmm, that should warrant some research, too,” Artim said, having calmed himself. “I don’t recall any dragons in our own lands. Much to study here, it seems... it’ll be fantastic.”

Another bright flash obscured their vision, and Twilight Sparkle was once again before them. “Okay!” she said cheerily, saddlebags now on her sides. “So, are we all ready? I’m sorry for the short notice, but if the Princess wants to talk to you right now, we should probably take it literally. Ready for the jump?”

“Ready?” Artim said. “Do you mean that you can teleport us all at once? All the way from here to Canterlot? Just by yourself?”

“Yep!” Twilight said, beaming.

“Incredible!” Artim practically oozed his enthusiasm. “And to think, my liege!” he said, turning to the prince. “We’re all about to experience magical teleportation first-hand! The scholars will be talking about this one for years!”

“Ugh, come on,” Reugas whined. “Let’s just get this over with before we—”

From the windows of Fluttershy’s treehouse exploded a brilliant violet light, causing a slight tremor in the ground before all went quiet again. Angel arrived in the living room alone, giving an exaggerated sigh at the sudden absence of his dear caretaker before jumping on the couch and falling asleep.

Princess Celestia walked along the silent halls, floating the letter from Twilight before her. No staff stood in the halls at this time of night, especially given that it was the beginning of the weekend; they were most likely somewhere in Canterlot enjoying their free time. Only her guards were still on duty, and they maintained their vigil throughout the castle, silent as the night itself.

At this time of night, or for those who found their matters concerning it, Princess Luna sat within the throne room atop the royal throne attending to the matters of the Night Court. Her bat-winged Night Guard stood in formation along the sweep of the room, their glowing eyes the most striking feature in the dull fade of the night’s glow.

For Luna, it was business as usual: on an average night, there would be nopony waiting to enter when the Night Court began, and only during the most hectic of times would she receive a petitioner. This night was one of those average nights, though she found herself surprisingly unirritated at the lack of ponies who wished to see her.

“Luna, how are things?” Celestia asked, casually walking in through the open double doors as the pair of Night Guard on duty saluted her. “I take it you haven’t had many visitors?”

“I... everything is fine, sister. As usual, there are none that wish to come to my court...” Luna said, her ears slightly tilting as Celestia simply gave a reassuring smile.

“It isn’t that bad, is it? You had several ponies visit you last week, all the way from Ponyville.”

“Ponyville... yes... they do seem to have warmed up to me since the events of Nightmare Night...” Her ears perked up, and she returned Celestia’ smile. “Though it does amuse me that you turned the very concept of Nightmare Moon and her... deeds... into a day of festivities. I very much enjoyed myself during that night.”

“And you met my student, as well.” Celestia simply rolled up the letter that she had received from Spike, though the seal it bore did not escape Luna’s watchful eye.

“Speaking of which... that is a letter from her, is it not? Your faithful student?”

Celestia sighed. “Yes, it is...”

“Oh? Bad news?” Luna asked, stepping off the throne and descending the steps to comfort her sister. “Surely it cannot be as bad as you make it out to be...”

“No...” Celestia said, slowly pushing the letter through the air towards Luna. “It is worse than that.” Luna gave her a questioning look, but decided to let the letter answer for her sister instead.

“Twilight... she... cannot be serious? I thought we had... that the humans had stopped him long ago. The First Emperor of the humans was said to have forever eliminated the threat... so if he has truly returned, I must ask: how?”

“Discord, obviously,” Celestia said, almost feeling the impact of Luna’s expression kicking herself for not realizing such an obvious answer. “I know, you weren’t around when he returned. You were still in recovery, still trying to acclimate to pony society. Twilight and the others, after much effort on part of her and her friends, managed to seal him away using the Elements of Harmony.”

“But you feel that... no, that this has clearly stated, that he has returned,” Luna said slowly. “That the Trickster has returned. Damn... if only I had been present during Discord's resurgence, then we might have been able to avoid all of this.”

“You know how Discord works, Luna. He would not have let himself be caught so easily. Moreover, I believe it was not his acts following his release that may have caused this; it may have been the release itself that stands as the catalyst for all of this.”

“How long has this gone unchecked?” Luna huffed with impatience. “If this is true, and he has returned, then we must ready our soldiers! The Trickster must be stopped before he can raise another army!”

Celestia’s calm expression betrayed the mood of the room as the guards began trotting around in panic as her empyrean mane flailed wildly. “That is what we will be talking about very shortly, Luna...” Celestia said, feeling the wind around them roar as the faint glows of purple began to gather in the center of the throne room...

“Ugh, damn, I think I’m going to be sick...” Reugas ran out the throne room doors and located a flowerpot in which to vacate the contents of his stomach. A round of groans came from the guards outside as they watched him retch as Tehin merely laughed.

“Wow, uh...” Twilight said. “I didn’t realize that teleportation could have some... side effects, especially for those who haven’t teleported before.”

“Does it matter?” Artim said. “We teleported, and it was one of the most amazing experiences in my life! Such a large displacement conducted so easily by one so talented!”

Twilight blushed. “Wow... uh, thank you, Artim, but... well, I think the best way to put it is that I’m an exception, even among unicorns.” She swayed slightly, nearly falling to the ground until she leaned on Applejack to stabilize herself. “Oof, that took a lot more out of me than I thought it would...”

“Ah, it figures that such a huge teleportation spell would cause substantial problems, especially with twelve entities... how proficient are you in magic?”

“Very. Well, it’s my special talent, so I should say that I’m extremely proficient at it.”

“Obviously, since not even the best arcanist would be able to pull off a spell like this, not without substantially greater magical affinity,” Kandro said. “Would you be able to perform something like this, Artim?”

“Honestly put, sire, no. Teleportation is far out of the reach of our conventional range of magic, and what we have left is mostly focused on combat magic. Those still skilled in the original ways of magic like myself still have trouble merely trying to control our spells. It takes a lot of concentration... concentration that would not be enough to cast a spell like what our friend has just done.”

“Ahem...” All eyes turned upon the pair of alicorns standing at the far end of the room, just as Reugas rejoined them with a sour look on his face. “It is nice of you to join us, all of you,” Celestia said. “Twilight had sent a letter in advance, but I had thought that you would have taken more conventional means of transportation...”

Twilight chuckled awkwardly. “I... sort of wanted to try out mass teleportation...”

“So I see.” Celestia gave a respectful nod towards the humans. “Welcome, humans of the Renascent Empire. I am Princess Celestia, princess of the sun, and ruler of the Principality of Equestria alongside my sister here, Princess Luna.”

“Greetings, Paragon and Protector,” Kandro responded, with a bow. “I am Prince Kandro of the Renascent Empire. These here are my companions: Artim, Sehyia, Tehin, Reugas, and Yhimit.” Each of them lowered their head with respect at the call of their names, save Reugas, who merely watched them with a curious eye.

“She’s the Paragon of the Sun...?” Reugas said. “I sort of thought she’d be something... I don’t know, more? What about all those tales from the books? ‘A stalwart tower of golden steel’? ‘Steely gaze that could stop entire armies in their tracks’? ‘Ferocity and vigilance towards evil unmatched by any other’?”

“Quiet, you,” Tehin said, giving him a hard elbow to the side. “Just because she’s not wearing any armor and staring you down with killing intent does not mean she is any less dangerous. And this is the Paragon we’re talking about... you’re lucky she doesn’t turn you into dust just by being in her presence.”

“Those times have long since passed,” Celestia replied. “I guide my subjects now, and preside over them as best as I can. Surely you must understand, having your own Emperor who does the same.”

“Apologies, Your Majesty,” Kandro interrupted. “But the Emperor is why we have come here. I am Prince Kandro, heir to the throne and son of Emperor Nazhrus of the Renascent Empire. These five are my companions, the Pillars of the Obsidian Spire; the best protectors and warriors that our Empire has to offer. We come to you in dire times, for my father has fallen ill, and we believe the Trickster is behind it, and many other attacks recently.”

“So it is true,” Luna said. “He has returned?”

Kandro nodded. “Indeed, Protector of the Night, though not in full force yet. A strange illness has befallen my father, and we believe he is behind it. Our solutions quickly ran out, before we knew it, our only remaining solution was to come to you for aid.”

“I remember your people very well, Prince,” Celestia said, smiling. “It was very impressive how even in the worst of times, groups still managed to stay together and fight. The mere act of rebellion against the Trickster for so long is an amazing act in itself, to stand against a tyrant so powerful with nothing but unyielding will and a determination to survive, even before we arrived. So, then, prince, what would you ask of us?”

“We need the Elements of Harmony. They may be the only key to defeating the Trickster and perhaps solving our emerging problem.” Celestia and Luna gave each other looks of amusement, as the Elements of Harmony gave each other curious glances, unbeknownst to the humans. “The weapons that aided us in defeating the Trickster eons ago may be our only hope in doing so again.”

“Is that so...?” Celestia mused. “What do you think, Twilight and company? As the bearers of the Elements of Harmony, I believe you should have some input on this matter.” Kandro’s eyes widened and all attention was upon the six mares.

“I...” Twilight was taken aback by the sudden shift in the conversation. “I believe that we should help them. If this... Trickster, which both the Princesses seem to know of, is as bad as Prince Kandro has told me it is, then we have to stop him.”

“I agree,” Applejack said. “If this Trickster guy is worse than Discord, then what’re we just standin’ around here for?”

“Yeah, we should go over there and kick his butt!” Dash said, folding her arms as she floated in the air.

Tehin gave a boisterous laugh. “Hah, I wish it were that easy...”

“...which, evidently, it is clearly not,” Sehyia said. “Really now, ponies, do you realize the kind of trouble we’re talking about? Have any of you ever truly fought in a battle before?”

“Well, there was that one time during the royal wedding...” Pinkie Pie said. “I used Twilight’s magic as a weapon and went all pew-pew-pew and bang-bang-bang, and we totally kicked so much flank that time! If it’s like that, it can’t be all bad, right?”

“Hmm, well, let’s put it like this...” Reugas offered. “Have any of you ever killed something before? Preferably within the last six months, and definitely preferred that it was still breathing when you did.”

“Uh... not really...” Dash said.

“That’s a damn shame, then. The Trickster’s soldiers would not hesitate to tear you apart limb from limb,” Reugas said darkly. “Their mouths drip with black ichor, and their eyes are dead, soulless like the void from which they came. Their grotesque forms would leave even the most hardened whimpering like a child, and when they find you, they’ll open their gaping maws filled with dozens upon dozens of jagged teeth, and they’ll eat you alive—”

“Reugas, I think they get the point,” Artim said. “As said, this isn’t anything like this Discord of which you speak. The Trickster has no qualms about ending lives... though I do believe it should be noted that he normally prefers to do so in the most brutal way possible. On top of that, according to the bestiaries that the Grand Library of Lherren has kept, the sorts of monsters that we are dealing with now is nothing even close to what our ancestors had to deal with.”

“What?” Tehin asked. “You mean those beasts were nothing more than foot soldiers?”

“Less than foot soldiers, Tehin. There are whole sections dedicated to this field of research at Lherren; if you should so choose, it would do all of you well to brush up on the enemy we fight against. But, yes, they are not foot soldiers... more like residual beings that come into existence as a result of the leaking energies from the Trickster.”

“So you’re telling me that the whole of several years was spent fighting things that weren’t even part of the armies?” Reugas asked, disbelief evident in his voice. “Our soldiers already have enough trouble just dealing with those. May the First protect us should his actual armies ever walk on this earth.”

“I’m guessing that things are probably... pretty bad, right?” Dash asked, flapping her wings nervously. “I mean... you guys look pretty tough, and I’m sure you all are, but is it really such a good idea for us to go with you if things are totally out of whack over there?”

“It’s not as bad as it sounds, really,” Kandro said, shrugging. “The attacks are random, and highly erratic at best. What places that are attacked usually receive reinforcements quickly. The generals have made it quite clear that our garrisons and military are to be on high alert at all times.”

“What’s stoppin’ the feller from just gettin’ up and takin’ over the whole world again?” Applejack asked. “He ain’t so tough if he’s stuck somewhere and can’t get out.”

“The seal of banishment, cast by our First Emperor, name unknown and forever blessed be his soul,” Kandro replied. “As I explained earlier, that’s why he’s managed to manifest his powers now. With the release of Discord, an escaped aspect of himself, the seals have been weakened and he is now in danger of returning.”

“So we have to seal him away again?” Twilight asked.

“Exactly. In the best case, we could simply slay him, but we are nowhere near as powerful as he is. Sealing him away is our best bet, but with the loss of the First’s sealing focus and weapon, we cannot do it ourselves. The Elements are our last resort.”

“Sounds like a pretty tall order,” Applejack said. “But we can’t just let all your lands just fall apart! We ain’t just goin’ to stand by and do nothin’!”

“Do we even need to bring these ponies along?” Reugas wondered aloud. “Why not simply give us the artifacts so we can use them ourselves?”

“That would be the problem,” Celestia said. “The Elements belong to the bearers, and at times, are kept within the Vault of the Elements located here within the castle. They are not, however, permitted to be handed off to others. They will simply return to either the Vault or their respective owners.”

“So... why don’t you simply bear the Elements and come with us? Surely your sister can stand to run the country for a month or so until your return?”

“I... that was a long time ago,” Celestia said. “The Elements have decided to change ownership since then, and I am no longer in command of the power it controls. That is why this is their decision, not mine. The most I can do is urge them as their princess, otherwise you must debate this amongst yourselves.”

“What’s there to debate about?” Dash asked. “There’s clearly something weird going on over there, and we’re the only ones that can stop it! And as if I’m going to let a whole bunch of other people take the worst of it before it ends up here in Equestria!” A round of agreements were voiced by each of the mares, save for Fluttershy, who simply nodded.

“So it is agreed, then,” Celestia said. “Now, I’m sure you all must be tired. I will grant your rooms here in the castle, and you will leave as soon as possible. Twilight and the others must make good on their time with their loved ones, as there is the chance that they may not return from this dangerous journey.”

“And what about me?” Spike asked, sticking to his instinct and not getting involved in the grown-up conversation until now.

“You will stay with us, Spike,” Luna said. “It will be good to have you back in the castle again. It’s not everyday that we can have both humans and a dragon as company, after all.” Spike beamed, glad to hear that at least he would be warmly welcomed during Twilight’s absence.

Suddenly, the room was filled with the sound of Tehin loudly sniffing the air. “That smell. Very peculiar. Is someone cooking... meat?”

“Your hunger is probably getting the best of you, Tehin,” Sehyia said. “Ponies don’t eat meat.”

“No, that is indeed meat cooking,” Celestia said. “That would most likely be the staff of the griffon embassy attending to late night cravings.”

“Kick my sides and gouge me blind...” Reugas said, a displeased frown appearing on his face. “Did you say... griffons?”

“Damn, she works quick.” Reugas stood off against a line of a dozen royal guards, blocking the stairway leading up to the griffon embassy. Tehin had followed him, though whether or not to join in whatever he planned to do, or to stop him, the guards didn’t know. “These guards weren’t here a few minutes ago...”

“And what sort of ideas did you have in mind for the griffons?” Tehin asked.

“Oh, you know... the usual. Spout off some regular crap about their past, watch as they get all indignant about it... and perhaps stick a well-placed arrow in one of their eyes. Or all of them, really.” He folded his arms. “What’s it like for you ponies, knowing that you’re harboring traitors in your midst?” he shouted at the guards, only to chuckle when he received no response.

“Come on, Reugas, we don’t need to start another war here...”

“I say we do. We should have driven those griffons to the cliff’s edge and wiped them all out a long time ago,” Reugas hissed back. “My grandfather’s life was taken at the onset of the last war, and they burned his home to the ground. He lived north, relatively near Fort Sibhim, when they attacked. They didn’t even leave anything for us to bury. They can keep running all they want, but they’re going to have to answer eventually.”

“I share your... complaints about the griffons, but now is not the time, nor the place.” Tehin motioned to the halls behind them. “Let us retire... lest the griffons notice their increase in security and come to inquire about it themselves.”

“Let them. I will wait.”

“Reugas... how about this? Let’s go find something to drink, and we can talk about all this business about your grandfather.” Tehin patted him on the back. “Forget this business. This is the home of the Paragon and the Protector. Do not sully their goodwill with petty fights. We will meet the griffons again on the field of battle someday.”

The ranger barely stirred as the sound of crickets accentuated the silence. After several moments, Reugas sighed. “Fine. You win this time.” The guards let out a visible sigh when he finally turned around and ventured back down the halls without saying much else.

Tehin was going on about finally being able to taste Equestrian liquor when they passed by the throne room, where the remainder of their group had been observing the standoff from a distance. Sehyia echoed the guards’ reaction by letting out her own sigh as Tehin’s masterful abilities at keeping Reugas’ temper at bay always seemed to work out in the end.

“I take it that he doesn’t seem to like griffons...” Celestia said, recalling how Tehin could only stall Reugas’ tirades and advance towards the stairs outside. She herself had barely enough time to call her guards to action, though she assumed that they probably viewed Tehin as the threat given his size, rather than Reugas.

“Not many of our people do,” Kandro said. “Many of us have had some vendetta with them at some point in the past. Almost all of them have to do with losing loved ones in the wars against them, both then and now. Even the crown and court have some, too, and especially the scholars at Lherren.”

“Yes, I can agree on that. Many scholars, myself included,” Artim said, “are not particularly happy that they were the ones ordered by the Trickster to burn our archives during that era. That single act resulted in the loss of entire centuries of history and knowledge, never to be seen again.”

“Does that mean, by being crossed sometime in the past, that all of you have problems with the griffons?” Luna asked.

“Essentially, yes.” Artim looked around at the group still with them. “Tehin and Yhimit right here are probably the only ones who don’t seem to have much of a problem with them. But they echo our sentiments all the same.”

“Then, what happened with you, Sehyia?” Rarity asked.

“I’m an orphan. The griffons killed my parents,” she said solemnly. “I’d... rather not talk about it.”

“It’d be wise to tell the griffons to stay in their residences until our departure, Princesses,” Kandro continued, looking around at the parapets around the domed towers outside. “Reugas may have cooled off for now, but later on, he’ll most likely wait and watch from a rooftop until one of them is dumb enough to walk outside and into range of his bow.”

“Is he even willing to spend so much time just for a chance shot?” Luna tilted her head questioningly at him.

“You underestimate the hatred of our people towards the griffons, Princess. And waiting is a very common habit for rangers, bred into them very early during training,” Artim said. “It’s to be expected. They have to wait for the perfect shot, especially when they’re out to hunt. Reugas is no novice at this. I have no doubt that he’ll hit his mark, should he find one.”

Kandro observed the small forms of the griffons laughing with each other on their outdoor balcony. “Well, let us all be thankful that his vengeance has been stayed... for now. Until then, let us all retire to our rooms. Twilight, and company, I thank you for your help, and your continued help in aiding us to defeat the Trickster. I have no doubt that we have an arduous journey ahead of us, so see to all of your matters. We will leave tomorrow night.”

Twilight nodded as her horn began to glow. “Thank you, Prince Kandro. Come on, girls, let’s get back to Ponyville. There’s a lot of things we have to attend to.”

Dash gasped. “Huh? Oh, no! Twi, are you going to use that spell aga—”

And then the Elements were gone. Artim merely gave a light laugh, shaking his head at Twilight’s natural fluidity with magic. “She’ll be the envy of many an arcanist once we return to the Empire. Still, though, I look forward to our new exchange of information when this incident has come to pass. Until then, I think it’s best for us all to retire!”

“This way, sir.” A lone guard appeared at the doorway, giving a salute as he stood waiting to guide them to their quarters, as the moon stood clearly visible in the twinkling night sky behind him. Artim merely waved the group along, until Kandro felt a hoof tap on his shoulder. He turned around to see Celestia conversing with one of her guards... and Luna standing in front of him.

“Excuse me, Prince Kandro,” Luna asked. “I would like to speak to you in private.”

“So this is Discord...?” Kandro said. The stone statue of the chaos deity stood silent, basking in the faded glow of moonlight as Kandro stood on the cobblestone path with Princess Luna. “Nowhere near as intimidating as the Trickster, even if the pictures are quite old.”

“Discord was never really one for the sort of chaos that the Trickster is known for,” Luna agreed. “In fact, I’m sure Discord is aware of his origins. He simply chooses not to talk about it.”

“How did this Discord end up here, anyway?” Kandro’s cloak flowed in the nighttime breeze, the stark crimson red a harsh contrast to the soothing red. His golden armor appeared more duller than usual, as he held his crested helmet at his side. “I never even knew of him until now.”

“Discord appeared shortly after the defeat of the Trickster, and my sister and I were inconvenienced for a time shortly after our return from your empire. He had gained control here in Equestria and terrorized the population for more than a short while before we intervened and sealed him away for several thousand years.”

“Using the Elements of Harmony?”

“Indeed. In recent times, however, it seems that his antics have been mostly toned down. Most of the time, they are practical jokes or other silly things, nothing of the sort that brought such strife upon all our kind in the past. If his recent release is the catalyst to your problems, then it makes me wonder if he is indeed working with him.”

“Despite the claims of some of my companions, I doubt it,” Kandro said. “The Trickster is not one to leave loose ends. Has Discord ever revealed any intentions to leave Equestria?”

Luna shook her head, her flowing mane with its embedded stars catching Kandro’s eye for a moment. “No. In fact, his outbreak was contained within the town of Ponyville from whence you came. Twilight and her friends managed to stop him before he could spread his chaos any further.”

“I see... you know, I think Discord hasn’t decided to leave Equestria for a reason. All of his releases, he’s never seen fit to go anywhere else. He only stays here, in Equestria, from what all your accounts have indicated to me.”

“I... do not follow,” Luna said. “You mean that Discord chooses to stay here of his own accord?”

“Yes. The Trickster, should his minions ever manage to find Discord, would most likely imprison him and bring him before their master... in which case, if what you say of him being a splinter facet of the Trickster himself is true, he would be forcefully re-assimilated back into the chaotic whole.”

“And you believe he is scared of that—of being found by the Trickster?” Luna finished.

“Absolutely.” Kandro folded his arms behind his back. “We’re all scared of him somewhat, aren’t we?” he confidently said to the statue, frozen in a state of shock. “Our soldiers can barely stave off the dredges of creatures that arrive from the Trickster’s realm. How the First managed to hold off entire legions of bloodthirsty abominations with only a thousand soldiers is the stuff of legends; one that I fear that we will not be able to live up to, should this spiral out of control.”

Luna felt her wings flare, the apprehension in her stomach rising. “Then it may be soon before my sister and I will have to don our armor again... and go to war against the Trickster with our armies, alongside yours.”

“And the griffons, too?” Kandro laughed. “Would they march with us? Or will they side with the Trickster yet again?”

“For that... hmm...” Luna pondered. “Only time will tell. They have proven that they have changed since then, and have established good relations with Equestria.”

“They’ve yet to prove themselves to us. In any case, let us move along. I think I’ve seen enough of this statue for now...” Kandro said. They followed the stone path, walking through the royal gardens in silence as they passed by the hedge maze where Twilight and her friends had first confronted Discord.

“So, tell me, Kandro... how is the Empire? Have my teachings adhered?” Luna asked quietly.

“Have they, Your Majesty? More than you would ever dare to imagine. You should visit sometime. I am sure that our people would gladly welcome you with open arms and hearts. ‘Treat each other well, for in times of darkness, kindness prevails’,” he recited. “And another... ‘stand loyal to your friends, family, and kinsmen, for only together can a nation truly thrive’.”

“I recall writing those. The tenets of kindness and loyalty,” Luna said amusedly. “Although with nowhere near such modern vernacular.”

“Times change. So does the speech,” Kandro admitted. “Nonetheless, they are teachings that we hold dear. Every boy and girl raised in the Empire learns of this early on... and they all learn of you, and your sister. The historians have shaped it rather cleverly, though; we all learn to revere your deeds, but not you, personally. My father always told me that in the case where you do turn on us, we do not end up straying from the tenets out of disgust for what you may possibly become.”

“So you planned for such things, as well?” Luna asked. “You are not entirely wrong on that assumption... we are not entirely infallible.”

Kandro stopped walking and looked at Luna with concern. “What are you talking about? Did something happen?”

“It only happened a thousand years ago, and at the time, your Empire was still just a fledgling sovereignty...” Luna whispered, her voice barely louder than the breeze that flowed between them. “I... grew jealous of my sister’s popularity among our subjects. None wanted to speak to me, and all their love and devotion was held for her instead...”

“Ah... I see where this is going...” Kandro said. “The dispute grew out of control, didn’t it?”

“You are correct. I felt rage and hatred overtake me, and it blinded me from seeing reason. My sister tried to talk to me, but I rejected her. Day in and day out, I fumed and conspired on what I would do, and then came that fateful day... I started a civil war months afterwards, a war with my sister, not as Princess Luna, or your beloved Protector of the Night... I was Nightmare Moon. And I wanted the throne for myself.”

“So there was a civil war, then... I have to admit, this is a completely new revelation, even for us. Artim is going to want to know about all the details.” He smiled. “Perhaps too much for his own good.”

“You... don’t think any less of me for it, do you? I spent the last thousand years banished on the moon because of what I’d done. Ponies feared me when I first returned, the memories of my attempted reign of terror still fresh in their minds.”

“Why should I? Why should any of us?” Kandro confusedly responded. “My people would empathize with your plight. Our culture has... well, it is highly favorable if a ruler is seen to have more in common with his subjects than if he did not. It is a grounded bond between our social hierarchies that reminds us all that we are not perfect. Why hold others to impossible standards?”

“It seems that is where our cultures’ train of thought differs, then.” Luna could easily recall the morning she saw the tabloid sitting next to her morning meal: Princess Celestia: One of Us? There had been many speculations from Celestia’s detractors all frothing at the mouths at how she hadn’t been living up to her role, as usual. That there was still a place where she could not only act normal, but that it was expected from royalty such as herself seemed like a very appealing place indeed.

“So it is. I noticed that the throne room was designed more in the fashion of a formal court to hold audience in. My father’s throne room is built very much the same way, though I personally didn’t like spending much time there. Too boring.” Kandro grew quiet afterwards, looking far into the distance through a break in the foliage, in the direction of Ponyville’s lush valley and the mountains beyond.

“Thinking of home?” Luna asked.

“Yes. Though not wistfully.” They continued walking until they happened upon a small clearing, in which sat a fountain in the center, gloriously illuminated by the reflecting moonlight off the water. “Never really imagined myself being... well, here,” he said, sitting down at the fountain’s edge.

“What is your home like now?” Luna asked, taking up a seat next to him. “I remember lots of places... hmm... does that little town by the Obsidian Spire still exist? I liked their liquor, very sweet and fiery and had quite the kick.”

“Kradrin? Of course. Turned into one of the few towns that could survive away from the Roaring River, and stands as home of the rangers, due to its proximity to the savannahs, and defensible location hidden away in the canyons. Their liquor’s still there, too... I believe it may be the reason why Reugas likes drinking so much.”

“Away from the river? I definitely recall the signs of devastation everywhere... has the land not changed much since then?” Luna asked, taking care to avoid dipping her mane and tail into the water behind her.

“Not at all, or at least not by much. We explained it a bit to Twilight, but... our lands are without magic. It cannot sustain itself for long, so we are mostly water-dependent, or for those that aren’t, dependent on the other towns and cities for survival. I’ve been researching a multitude of ways to revive the lands, but it’s slowly bleeding out. Within the next few centuries, we may have to find somewhere else to live if the land’s magic becomes depleted and unsustainable.”

Luna held a hoof to her mouth. “That’s terrible! Your solutions have all failed?”

“The Trickster Conflict’s scars run deep and wide. Even the most possible solutions, like artificial infusion, are doomed to fail if we cannot stop the bleeding effect from the land. Though it seems at this point, given the Trickster’s return, that the cause of our problems has seemingly found us first...” He unsheathed his heirloom weapon, and held it into the air, blocking the moonlight from reaching his eyes. “My father said this was a weapon handed down from emperor to emperor. It was supposedly created from the remnants of the First’s own sword following the Battle of Fortress Tyehl.”

“I remember that battle,” Luna said, nodding. “By then, the chaotic armies had almost swallowed the entire land whole. My sister and I, along with our army, attempted to fight our way through them in order to reinforce him. Even then, it was hugely left to chance had we not found wounded soldiers left behind who could relay his location to us.”

“The end of the battle must have been spectacular. To have actually been there must be a different thing entirely. I’m sure the scholars would love to have a perspective from your eyes.”

“Oh, it certainly was.” Luna closed her eyes, the distant recollection of that dark day playing out in her mind. “The skies were blood-red that day, and any amount of space that wasn’t occupied by our army was occupied by the Trickster’s. From our positions advancing towards Fortress Tyehl, we could see that it was already lit ablaze, monsters smashing against the walls...”

“Certainly great and terrible creatures, if the damage on the abandoned walls today indicate anything,” Kandro said, sheathing his blade and quieting himself to listen to Luna’s tale.

“Just as things seemed to be lost, and the demonic fliers began to descend upon the fortress,” Luna continued, “the world seemingly... exploded. Such a huge concentration of magic came from Tyehl and engulfed everything in and around the fort, stretching as far as the eye could see. When it was over, nothing remained save for the scorched remains of the chaotic armies... and us.”

“And the First?”

Luna shook her head. “Dead. As were all of the men who were with him, soldiers and scholars all. Their sacrifice saved many, but came at the cost of their own lives. We knew that the Trickster was defeated when the skies began to part, and the first signs of sunlight broke through, the first many of us had seen in years.”

“Were you not there for his burial?” Kandro asked. “Surely, you and your sister, of all witnesses, know where he might have been put to rest.”

“I am sorry, Kandro. But we left his burial to your people, and involved ourselves no further than that, and attended the funeral at a distance. The most striking thing that could be noted, of all the minute details I can remember... there were many hooded men who led his procession, wearing blue and silver...”

“The Founders of Lherren,” Kandro confirmed. “No other arcanist in this day and age could come close to the sorts of power they wielded. As far as I know, thanks to the thinning of powerful magic users, the organization has died out, but the Grand Library stands as their legacy. They must have enchanted the tomb with powerful magic.”

“Yes. If anyone holds knowledge on where to find the location of the First’s tomb, they would know. Perhaps they have left clues or hints, signs to where it may be hidden. They surely must have known that the Trickster would return someday.”

Kandro rubbed the back of his head, now irritated at the grating feeling of wearing armor for so long as it lay heavy on his body. “Perhaps. But they’ve done well in hiding it. I’ll have to inquire about it later. For now, I believe we should—” He was cut off as a bloodcurdling scream came from the castle. “Damn!” he said, as they both stood to run. “I sincerely hope that isn’t Reugas that’s causing this ruckus!”

The sound of hooves clopping and boots thumping against pavement echoed through the gardens as they made haste back to the castle, windows glowing in the distance; the forms of guards running and soon the white plumage of Princess Celestia’s wings could be seen in the distance, all charging towards the sound.

IV: Daybreak

C h a p t e r 4 :

D a y b r e a k

Treat each other well, for in times of darkness, kindness prevails.

Stand loyal to your friends, family, and kinsmen, for only together can a nation truly thrive.

Be honest and forthright, for indecisiveness and deceit brings only tribulations.

Live and love, and spread laughter to all you meet, and share life’s joys.

Tarry not in aid to others, for generosity humbles even the greatest hero.

Respect all magic, for it is the pool from which all life grows and prospers.

-The Tenets of Harmony (Seventeenth Edition), Princess Luna, Pre-Reformation Era

“It’s him! Oh, back! Back, you... you creature! Stay away, I say! Greht, hurry, strike him down before he can reach us!” the griffon ambassador shouted.

“I can’t do anything, sir,” Greht replied tersely. “He hasn’t done anything to us.”

“You know it’s him! We have to stop him! What is the meaning of this, Princess?!” the ambassador continued, cowering in fear behind Greht, the commander of his protection detail. “This... man is an enemy of all griffons! The Masked Terror cannot be allowed to stand!”

“The ‘Masked Terror’...?” Reugas slurred with a hearty chuckle, exchanging amused glances with Tehin. “Gods, I wish I had a title like that.” He took another swig from the bottle of Equestrian wine in his hand.

“What is going on here?” Kandro asked, approaching the scene from behind them and with Luna equally confused. “Did you start something, Reugas?”

Reugas blinked for a moment, then waved his arms open in disbelief. “Does it look like I’m wearing a fucking mask? Erm...” he hiccuped. “No offense to Your Majesty,” he courteously ended as he looked at Luna, who gave her a snicker.

“None taken...” she said, equally as amused by Reugas’ vulgar speech.

“So what in the name of the Paragon is going on here?!” Kandro demanded to know.

“Please, my liege, it is nothing serious,” Sehyia attempted to remedy. “We were merely standing out in the halls discussing things amongst ourselves when the griffon entourage decided to descend from their quarters. As you can see, things quickly grew sour and Yhimit stepped in to prevent the situation from spiraling out of control.”

“Yeah,” Reugas spat. “If only he wasn’t the dreaded griffon killer that they all seem to know him as. I should kill more griffons if I want to have a reputation half as feared as his.” He attempted to take another swig of his bottle, only to find out that none of the liquid remained within. “Ah, damn. Oh, well, it’s nearing my bedtime, anyway.”

“Yhimit’s reputation is the only thing stopping them from outright attacking us right now...” Sehyia continued. “...since he has the reputation for clipping the wings of those he defeats,” she whispered to the prince, but mostly to Luna. “I’ve seen him fight in many battles, and Yhimit’s capabilities are certainly not lacking in any respect.”

“Princess?! Princess Celestia!” the ambassador continued to mewl. “Why aren’t you doing something about this?”

“Because they are staying here in Canterlot as guests of the crown,” Celestia replied calmly. “And because we intend to help them with a crisis that their land is currently suffering from. One that involves a very ancient foe that you know very well.”

“The... oh, dear.” The ambassador’s speech quickly sobered up. “The Trickster?”

“Indeed, Ambassador Aerem. So I hope that you do not hold it against us if we should choose to help them, especially considering that both my sister and I have fought against him in the past. He is dangerous, and cannot be allowed to return.” Celestia’s somber face clearly marked her stance on the issue, and she knew that there was little more that Aerem could do beyond simple complaining.

“I... understand, Your Majesty,” Aerem responded. “The Griffon Kingdom would also prefer it if the Trickster does not return...”

“Or would you, you damn lout?” Reugas shouted. “Aside from your kind stealing the moniker that we gave him, what’s to say that you won’t all just claim arms and side with him the moment he returns?”

“Reugas, cut it out,” Sehyia hissed. “We don’t need this.”

“Why not?” Reugas replied. “We’re in Equestria; they can’t do anything to us. Might as well get a straight answer when their preferred choice of trying to gut us doesn’t work.”

“We no longer hold ties to the Trickster like once was!” Aerem shouted. “We merely wish to live on our own in peace!”

“Oh, yeah, and all those times you tried to take our lands—lands that belong to our crown—have nothing to do with that, right? All peace and love and flowery crap. Going to have to try a little bit harder than that, you damn grif; blood has been spilled amidst your talks of ‘peace’.”

“We... I don’t...” Aerem went quiet. Reugas’ allegations that the griffons had been the first to start the series of conflicts that led into recent times was not untrue. Their justifications for this were shaky, but none of that mattered to the Equestrians: the griffons, from the imperial standpoint, were viewed as an ancient enemy that only continued to be dangerous even after the vanquishing of the Trickster.

“Is this true, Ambassador Aerem?” Celestia asked. “It is the first that I have heard of this...” she ended, a thin lace of irritation creeping into her voice.

“I... refuse to comment on the matter,” Aerem said. “Now if you don’t mind, I will be retreating back to our quarters for the night,” he added hastily, quickly turning and heading back towards the steps up toward his embassy, passing by the group of royal guards as he did so.

“Pfft. Figured as much,” Reugas said, waving an arm at the disappearing griffons. “Liars and deceivers, all of them.”

“So... Eminent Paragon...” Kandro asked Celestia slowly. “Just what exactly did the griffons tell you about us?”

Celestia broke her serious expression, a warm smile spreading across her face. “Perhaps it would be best if we retired to my study to discuss there... as there is a great many things I believe you and your companions should know.”

“That’s a nice map,” Artim commented, eyes taking in every meticulous detail of the old linen ink-branded map that traversed the entirety of the Griffon Kingdom. “I should have a copy of this made and sent back to Lherren. Look there... they even include the smaller settlements. Along with forts, rivers, watchtowers... the generals would love to have this on hand.”

“I am afraid that is not an option at the moment,” Luna said. “We would like to make sure our current relations with the griffons remained unstained, and to give them what would be perceived as vital intelligence would betray their trust.”

“Of course, Protector, no copies...” he said, bowing to her, and looking over his shoulder at the map. “But I can remember details. Lots of them.”

“'Tis would be fine, as we cannot restrict your freedom to view this study as you please. Though I do not recall much of humans,” Luna replied. “But I am fairly certain that clarity of memory was not one of the things common among your kind.”

“If I can recite the Rites of Initiation for the Arcanist’s Academy—a rite that took the better part of a day to complete, I might add—then I can remember a few simple details on a map.” Artim folded his arms, a smirk appearing on his face. “Oh, yes, this will do just nicely.”

Reugas merely wrapped an arm around Artim and pulled him along with the group towards the study area where Celestia beckoned them to sit down on floor cushions. “Artim, there’s a time and a place for everything,” he slurred. “Now...” He groggily jabbed a finger into the arcanist’s chest. “...is not one of them.”

“So says the drunkard,” Artim said flatly, throwing off Reugas’ arm and giving a smile before sitting down with the rest of them. “So, Your Majesty, what of the griffons’ lies to you wish to tell us about?”

“We’ve heard many... things, concerning the recent conflicts that the Renascent Empire has had with the griffons. Many of them were not pleasant.”

“Show no quarter to an enemy that will show us none,” Kandro recited. “So says the ancient tomes describing your advice to our ancestors.”

“Yes, but... things are different now. The Kingdom is civilized, and they seek to actively establish relations with our country, and of others, as well.”

“A smile on their face and a dagger behind their back,” Reugas said. “You’d never even see it coming.”

“The griffons have taking extreme measures in making sure that they stay within our goodwill,” Luna said. “We trade, and even cooperate in several cultural events. I do not see the harm in letting them stay here, so long as they aren’t a threat to us.”

“They’re a threat to us, and they’ve never shown any such signs in the past that they’d be willing to change that,” Kandro said. “My great-grandfather sat on the throne when the most recent of the conflicts was instigated. The griffons struck our farmlands all across the northern stretches, and they struck hard. There were little survivors.”

“Allow me, my liege,” Artim said. “Encyclopedic knowledge of history, you understand.” He sat idle for a moment, humming to himself as he dredged through his memories trying to recall all the details. “Ah, right. As the prince said, there were barely any survivors. Our military reaction was swift, but not enough as they had come in through the pass that sat directly on the northern border of our lands.”

“And you did not take countermeasures against them?” Luna asked.

“We did. The construction of Fort Sibhim, designed to act as a bulwark against griffon attack was still undergoing planning at the time; our resources were low, and active attempts at rationing the land’s magic did not come into effect until far later. We were not in a favorable position.”

“To think that the griffons continued their belligerence long after the Trickster was defeated...” Celestia said. “We had no idea.”

“I don’t blame you,” Kandro said. “From what I’ve learned from the Protector, it seemed that you had your own problems to deal with.”

Celestia gave a sad smile. “So you know of Nightmare Moon, too, Prince Kandro? In all honesty that was a... mistake,” she said solemnly. “It never should have happened.”

“Please, sister,” Luna comforted. “It was I who was the larger fool. Do not blame yourself for my ignorance. But, yes, among other things, we were quite preoccupied with our own affairs. We had assumed that all was right in your land, and when Discord appeared, we were left to tend to ours. When the griffons came in peace and gave us news of the Empire’s deeds, we did not believe them.”

“So now we are back where we began,” Sehyia said. “What did they tell you of us?”

“The very things that the griffons were quite well-known for during our battles in the Trickster Era, actually,” Celestia said. “They called you all brutes, mindless creatures that existed for battle. They claimed that you had instigated the conflict.”

“Instigated?!” Reugas shouted, immediately standing. “Those filthy liars!” He plucked a single arrow from his quiver. “I’m going to go stick this damn thing in his eye right now and see if he’s still—”

“Sit, Reugas,” Kandro commanded.

“...yes, sir.” Reugas sat down again, twirling the arrow around between his fingers. “Though I don’t understand why we can’t do anything about this,” he grumbled. “They’re clearly the liars here and they know it. That ambassador’s reaction tells me more than I need to know.”

“Maybe the decades of peace with Equestria has left them complacent in knowing that we might never branch out beyond our borders again,” Tehin said, his size easily dwarfing the miniscule space his cushion could provide.

“Then they certainly have quite the reckoning approaching, knowing that our focused isolation would work in their favor,” Artim noted. “May I ask what the next course of action that our Eminences will enact in light of this new information?”

“We will most certainly be keeping a closer eye on them,” Luna responded, the light of her charge basking the room in a soft glow behind her. “At the moment, they do seem to have good intentions in mind.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if their disposition changed when we decide to move in,” Kandro said. “It would be great if we could establish our own embassy here, and create our own relations with Equestria. What of your subjects, Paragon? Will they be ready for such an encounter?”

“As far as things go, I am fairly certain they will receive you warmly,” Celestia said. “My faithful student has already shown as such. Most ponies are not aware of the earlier ages beyond the founding of Equestria, Nightmare Moon, and Discord, and most have certainly not heard of the Trickster.”

“Perhaps that’s for the best,” Artim said. “Those were certainly dark times, and the best course of action for an impressionable new generation would simply be to omit him from the general records. We don’t need any curious eyes trying to unearth the relics of that past, and ancestors know that we already have enough of them as is.”

“And what of this ‘Masked Terror’ that the griffons spoke of?” Luna asked, giving a wary glance at the silent Yhimit, who merely listened in on the conversation with crossed legs. “He seems to be... quite unassuming. By far, I would think that the rest of your group is far more dangerous than he is.”

“He’s called that for a reason,” Tehin said. “His origins are... obscure, but when he joined the military, he fought unlike anything our generals had ever seen before. He walked with a sword in each hand and danced around every griffon he fought as if it were child’s play. Had I not witnessed it myself, I would be as curious about his reputation as you are, Protector.”

“I can speak for his origins, though," Artim said. "Yhimit was found on the side of a road, between Lherren and Kradrin, in a state of near death. The traders who found him brought him to Lherren, where our healers did their best to return him to stable condition. Immediately afterwards, he joined the military, and the rest is what you see now.”

“He harbors quite the animosity towards the griffons, though,” Tehin said, patting the silent man on his back. “A true prodigy if I’ve ever seen one. And so young, too. I do not understand why he has taken to an oath of silence and hiding his face behind a mask.”

“I’ll tell you why,” Reugas said. “It’s because he’s - *hic* - trying to scare the ever-living daylights out of those griffons. He’s made a name for himself, you see. The moment they see him walk onto the field, they all collectively shit their undergarments.”

Yhimit made no movement, no signs that he was actually aware of the ongoing exchange. His silence merely had the whole room look at him curiously, but it did not seem to rouse him.

“Certainly a silent one, indeed,” Luna noted. “I must ask, for what reason has he taken an oath of silence?”

“That is the true mystery,” Artim said. “I was, obviously, the first to ask him about it. He will not say, not even to us.”

“Very curious...” Luna muttered, nodding.

“It is certainly nice to get these things out into the open,” Kandro said. “Though the night does grow old now. We shall take this opportunity to retire to our quarters, if you do not mind. Pillars, if you will.” They all stood and gave a bow to the Princesses. “We wish you a good night.”

“As do we you,” Celestia said. “Good night.”

“I clearly remember everything on that map,” Artim said as they walked through the silent halls. “I have the materials; I will create a draft as soon as possible.”

“Good to see that your mind still serves you well,” Tehin said. “The pursuit of knowledge never ends, does it?”

“No, it does not, my friend. The rigors of memorizing spell patterns and magical flow control creates a mental discipline unlike any other field. Details in large volume suddenly become normal to remember, and the eldest of scholars can recall entire volumes on a moment’s notice.”

“Oh, I can’t wait to see what the city looks like,” Sehyia said. “Did you see it, my liege?” she asked Kandro. “Outside the windows, that is. It is a most magnificent sight at nighttime. Very much unlike the sandstone walls of our home.”

“Tomorrow, most certainly,” Kandro said. “I have to admit that I’m curious about the city, too. That we now stand in the lands of the Protector and Paragon... Artim should get to recording this as soon as possible.”

“Fear not, the elder scholars and arcanists of Lherren are always ready to receive knowledge. I shall compile every single meticulous detail and submit it to them in one great whole. And when they see my report, I have no doubt that they will want to visit for themselves.”

“Great, and I—” They all stopped when they saw the guard from earlier before them. “Oh, hello.”

“Greetings, sir,” the guard curtly said. “I realize that earlier that the Princesses had asked to speak with you, but I was asked by Princess Luna to escort you to your quarters now. She believes that you do not know where they are.”

“She is correct. The thought completely slipped my mind until you mentioned it...” Kandro said, rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment.

“Very well, sirs and lady. Please follow me, I shall guide you to them.”

“Hmm, do you get much combat time as a guard here? It seems pretty boring,” Reugas asked.

“No, sir, not many things happen here. But when they do, we try our best to react as quickly as possible and with the greatest efficiency.”

“Great. So how many of you are there?”

“We do not number too highly. The Princesses have seen no need for an actual military, and so has relegated peacekeeping up to the jurisdiction of the cities’ leaders. The royal guards are here for the protection of Our Highnesses.”

Tehin walked up alongside the guard, looking down at him with a confused look. “You do not have a standing army? But what will happen if you are attacked?”

“Then we will respond as best as we can, and hope that the Princesses and the Elements of Harmony can intervene.”

“Hah. I’d like to see a foe that can defeat them. Such would be an awesome tale to behold... of course, until we retaliate with anger, fire, and steel,” Reugas said, almost delving into a skip as he walked.

“There has been an incident where Princess Celestia has been defeated recently...” the guard said slowly, unsure of the reaction he would get from the humans.

“...what? When? How did it happen?” Tehin immediately asked.

“During the wedding of Captain Shining Armor and Princess Mi Amore Cadenza, or as she has said she’d like to be called, Princess Cadence. Changelings invaded due to their queen’s prior infiltration by taking the place of the Princess,” the guard said, shuddering. “That day was not good for any guard.”

“If such a thing happened at a wedding in the Empire, they would all be cut down where they stood,” Reugas said, shaking his head at the news. “What were the guards doing, then?”

“We were unprepared for the attack and were overwhelmed. The changelings would have most likely won and this conversation wouldn’t even be happening if it were not for Princess Celestia’s personal student, Twilight Sparkle, being inquisitive enough to find out where Cadence was being held and saving the day.”

“That sounds absolutely horrid. Thank goodness Twilight was there,” Sehyia said. “Assuming that the events that happened in the Empire were an inevitability, we would have eventually been forced to arrive here anyway. I wonder what the outcome would have been if the changelings stood here instead of the Princesses and their subjects.”

“Fire and steel,” Kandro said. “We would drive them out with fire and steel. The Princesses have sacrificed much for us, and it is a deed that we do not take lightly. I would have most likely returned to the Empire and brought along an entire legion with me to purge this country from end to end.”

“I... permission to speak freely, sir?” the guard asked.

“We are not your superiors,” Tehin said. “But we will not hold it against you. Speak your mind, friend.”

“You all seem like very... capable warriors, unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. I guess you being here means that your home has had relations with Equestria in the past?”

“The Empire is not common knowledge, yes,” Artim answered, walking behind him as he carefully sketched the design of the guard and his armor in his journal. “Rare to find one who did, like Twilight. We owe much to the Princesses and respect them greatly for saving our lands long ago. I think I answer for everyone when I say that we are quite pleased that she has decided to reign over her own.”

“...oh,” the guard let out. “Well, I appreciate you telling me, sir.”

“It wasn’t a problem. Say, what happened with the changeling invasion, anyway?”

“Although we could not fend them off ourselves, Twilight’s intervention during the wedding proper with the real Princess Cadence allowed them to turn the tide. The changelings were all driven out of Canterlot by the power of love, combined from both the captain and the princess. After that, it was probably one of the best wedding-slash-party I’ve ever had the pleasure of standing on duty for.”

Artim paused his note-taking for a moment, tapping the quill’s feather against his lip in thought. “Love...? How very interesting. Yes, I do believe love is a very important factor in harmony...” He scribbled down several notes off the top of his head. “I shall have to consider this further. The Protector herself permitting, this may be the first change to the Tenets of Harmony in the text’s entire history! Astounding.”

“Easier to do that since we can actually talk to her,” Sehyia said, peeking over Artim’s shoulders at the notes he had taken. “I... how do you even read that, Artim? It’s a mess!”

“A scholar’s notes are never organized, my dear. It has to be sharp! Quick! Concise! Every thought on the cusp of the moment is written down wherever there is free space. The introspection, debating, and organization comes far later down the road.” He waved the feather across her nose, tickling it and causing her to laugh. “And although there is always time for books, never underestimate the simplicity of life’s joys. One too many scholars have forgotten that and turned senile for neglecting their outward needs. Love, of course, being one of them.”

“Yes, yes, but it’s not like we can love our enemies to death or something,” Reugas muttered. “Would rather stick an arrow in their eye than shake hands.”

“Well, the changelings actually live off of the energy of love,” the guard said, leading them up a set of red-carpeted stairs as it spiraled up the inside of the tower to the next floor. “And, as you can assume from their name, they can disguise themselves as regular ponies.”

“Disguise? Well, obviously, that was how their queen took the princess’s spot,” Reugas said. “Gods, that Equestrian wine is giving me quite the buzz.” He let out an uncouth burp. “Well, hope nobody’s offended by that. If you are, too bad.”

“Reugas...” Sehyia said disapprovingly. “You’re a grown-up. Act like one.”

“I am! I am acting like one that doesn’t give a damn.”

“Oh, you...!” she said, jabbing him in the rib as he laughed back at her.

“Hah, you’re so easy to annoy, Sehyia. It’s all in jest.”

“I’d hate to see what you’d do if you were serious...”

“Don’t give me a reason to.” He flashed a grin at her. “Anyway, I’d imagine it’d be one festive event if we ever went to war against these changelings. I wonder if they can disguise themselves as humans.”

“The changelings have pony-like forms, except they’re more like bugs,” the guard mentioned, flapping his wings for his next emphasis. “They also have a horn and wings, unlike pony types, although they’re hidden when they enter a disguise.”

“So it’s highly unlikely that they’ll be able to disguise themselves as humans...” Artim said to himself. He quickly dipped his quill into the tiny bottle that sat on the side of his belt and jotted down more notes. “Most interesting indeed. And you say the Princesses were defeated by this queen of theirs?”

“Indeed. One of them managed to overpower Princess Celestia, much to our dismay, but it seemed that the changeling queen already had immense power to begin with.”

“Enough power to match the Paragon...?” Reugas said. “Sounds like one good fight, if you ask me. A couple of arrows, some good strikes with a sword, and some sleight of hand, and I would have that battle in the bag.”

“You overestimate yourself, Reugas,” Tehin warned. “What makes you think you’re so capable of fighting against something that defeated the Paragon?”

“No offense intended, but she’s grown soft. She’s forgotten what it was like to stand on the field of battle and stare your enemy in the eye as you deliver a killing blow. It’s a mind game, that’s what it is, and I don’t believe she intended to kill the queen. That’s why she lost. Why else would she count on this power of ‘love’ just simply throw them all out?”

“She didn’t want to risk the lives of her subjects,” Kandro said. “My father has mentioned this to me on several occasions. Every major decision is made after weighing the effects on the people. If you answer in force, then why shouldn’t the enemy do the same? We try to avoid the outcome if we can help it.”

“Grr, you have a point,” Reugas bemoaned. “Still, it’s simpler to prevent yourself from falling into such a position in the first place. A more sufficient, armed, and properly trained guard force could have easily repelled these invaders with no trouble.”

“A possible explanation, Reugas,” Artim said. “The journals of the old days from accounts taken during the war clearly detail that the Paragon had the ability to rain down fire from the skies, magic so powerful that she could easily level entire cities if she so chose. She may not be ready to fight against the Trickster if her power has waned, but then again, neither are we.”

“So, first matter to bring up to the court when we return: preparing for the Trickster’s return,” Kandro said. “I know many of them myself. They will see reason, I hope. And if not, General Tiraen was never really one to leave anything to chance.”

“Tiraen’s the only one keeping the entire army in shape,” Reugas said, giving a cursory glance to an ornate inscribed flower vase as he passed by the table it sat on. “It could be argued that he’s keeping the griffons on the other side of the mountains by sheer force of will alone.”

“Oh, here we are,” the guard said. “All the rooms on this floor have been reserved for each of you. Have a nice night.”

“Hold a moment, guard,” Kandro said, stepping in front of the guard and stopping his departure. “What is your name?”

“My name is Golden Crest, sir,” he said, confused.

“Thank you, Golden Crest. Your helpfulness will not go unnoted.”

“It was my pleasure, sir. Good night.” The guard bowed and walked away, leaving them along in the hall, the stained glass windows behind them giving a chromatic glow from the penetrating moonlight.

“I like it here,” Sehyia said. “The guards are nice, and it’s not as windy or dry, and there’s no sand!”

They all turned their attention to the sound of a door opening down the hall, only to see the remnants of Yhimit’s cloak disappearing into the room. Artim merely shrugged at them all, a sign of casual dismissal that the man was not given to doing.

“Don’t bother trying to understand him,” he said. “You’ll never be able to. Even I’ve known him the longest out of all of us, and even I’m still confused by his antics. If he even has any beyond staying quiet and watching over everything with the eyes of a hawk.”

“Does it matter? He can obviously get the job done, otherwise he wouldn’t be here with us,” Reugas said. “Ugh, this whole day has been annoying. Good night to all of you.” He waved them off and trudged into his room, shutting the door behind him with the force of an inebriated drunk who somehow forgot how doors worked.

“Idiot,” Tehin said. When greeted with curious looks, he responded. “He had to pick the vintage first. When the chef led him downstairs, the first thing he had to ask for were the ones with the biggest kick. I didn’t even know wine had a kick like that.”

“Welcome to Equestria,” Sehyia sang. “They may be smaller than us, but don’t underestimate them. If they can hold their liquor better than Reugas can, then I’d say we have room for concern.”

Tehin chuckled, pawing at his weighted staff still strapped on to his back. “Agh, this thing. I can’t believe I’ve been carrying it around for the entire day! Absolutely tiring. In any case, I bid you all good night.” He, too, bowed and took the third room from the end of the hall, the previous ones being taken by Reugas and Yhimit, respectively.

“And what of you two?” Kandro asked. “Sleep?”

“Sleep?” Artim joked. “Sleep is for those who can afford it! I have to organize all of this new information! Sleep can wait until we’ve returned to the Empire. The First and our ancestors know that I’ll have much more to write about tomorrow!” He gave a muted cackle and hurried into the fourth room, shutting it behind him as they heard the telltale sound of tomes and quills being dropped onto the table within.

“And you?” Kandro asked Sehyia.

“Well, it certainly is getting late...” she said. “I believe I shall retire, too. Which room would you like, my liege?”

“Either is fine.”

“Um...” She bit her lip. “I’ll... have to insist?” she asked, giving a sheepish smile.

“I’m not going to get angry over this, but if you do insist on insisting,” Kandro said, drifting his way over to the next room. “Then I’ll take this one.” He rested his hand on the doorknob and opened it, when he noticed that Sehyia did not move from where she stood. “Is something wrong?”

“I... if you would not mind, my liege...” she hesitantly began. “Would you like to visit the city tomorrow? With me?”

Kandro stood quiet, contemplating the decision for a moment. Within a few moments, a warm smile grew on his face. “Well, of course, Sehyia. I don’t doubt that the others will not let this escapade into the city go unnoticed, though...” he cautioned.

“Oh, of course, I know that,” she immediately shot back. “I just wanted to know if you would like to go. Er, my liege.”

“Ugh, you remind me of my days at court, and why I opted to leave the capital in the first place for the army. You can drop the formalities, Sehyia. They’re not my style, but if you prefer, you may call me ‘sir’ instead, or simply ‘Kandro’. I am more given to rank than to privilege.”

“Of course... Kandro,” she said warily. “Good night.” She bowed and Kandro gave a nod back to her, entering his room and shutting it with the littlest of sound. Sehyia sighed to herself, giving a final look at his door before entering her own, thoughts of a promise made lingering in her mind.

Keep him safe, Sehyia.

Going to sleep was not much of a problem for Kandro that night. Many things could be said of the Equestrians, but when it came to hospitality and standard of living, he certainly believed that they could easily outclass Renascence’s best. Such was his slumber that he almost found it hard to wake up.

Except for the ear-shattering knocking on his doors, which failed to cease until he answered the door wrapped in his crimson clothing, his armor piled off to the side of his bed.

“Ugh, what is it?” he mumble, rubbing his eyes until he looked up to see a group of excited ponies staring at him. “...and who are you?”

“We’re your room service!” they all exclaimed.

“I’m Baking Pan, and I’m one of the castle’s best chefs here, absolutely unrivaled in the art of preparing the perfect breakfast! These two here are—Frosting! Stand up straight, we’re in important company here.” The mare standing behind him to his right immediately straightened up. “Yes, Frosting and—Wheat! This food is for him, not you, you blathering nincompoop! Stop drooling!”

The stallion behind him to his left stared dreamily at the cart and the covered silver platter on top of it. “...ahh... huh? Oh, right, boss!” He put on his mean face and stared straight ahead, almost causing Kandro to laugh due to his overdoing it, making his face look like someone had twisted his expression into a permanent scowl.

“Right. So like I was saying, we’re here to provide you with breakfast, on behalf of Princess Celestia! We hope you enjoy.” He motioned for Frosting to move the cart forward, leaving it in the middle of his room and waiting for Frosting to exit before continuing. “Don’t worry, she’s already told us that you humans can’t really eat flowers or hay, so we avoided most of that. Hope you enjoy it, and have a great day!”

They all bowed and left for the stairs, Kandro giving a wave goodbye to them as he turned his head left and saw Reugas exiting his room. The ranger peeked his head out and met eyes with the prince, then smirked.

“Morning, m’liege,” he said, putting the bottle he had been holding in his left hand to his lips and taking a drink from it. “Ah! Good stuff, that. They told me that the Princess wanted me to have this bottle, with her wishes. I think I’ll have to take back all those things I said about her yesterday,” he said, chuckling.

“It’s still early in the morning,” Kandro said, nodding at the dim light of sunrise beyond the stained glass. “And you’re taking to the bottle already?”

“Relax, my prince. A little early morning drink never hurt anyone. And despite my... state last night, I was nowhere near as drunk as Tehin thought I was. I am perfectly fine and in control of my facilities.” He burped. “Thank you very much.”

“You’re such a spitting image of chivalry, Reugas,” Kandro bantered, having seen more than his share of such mannerisms during his time in the army.

“I try my best, sir,” he said, with an exaggerated bow. “Now if you don’t mind, there’s food waiting to be devoured. Good morning to you, and let me know if Tehin gets a bottle, too... hmm, you know what? Never mind that. He’ll tell me himself, that big oaf.” He walked back into his room and closed it with a click, leaving Kandro to take in the crisp morning air as it circulated through the vaulted castle halls.

“Unlike anything I’ve ever seen before...” he muttered to himself. He knew for a fact that not even his father or the court had ever stepped foot in Equestria. Many would be interested in seeing the home of their beloved Paragon and Protector and all the things it had to offer. And if it were anything like this, a land full of life and lush with the lifeblood of magic, many would go home supremely satisfied.

He returned to his room, shutting the door with taking note of its incredibly well-crafted gilding and golden trim. Equestrians certainly had a preference for flair, even more so than the court did; it seemed that they had to slap gold on just about everything in the castle, even the bulb-shaped tower domes.

After noting the fifteenth object bearing gold trim in his room—which in this case, happened to be the windows as he looked out onto the horizon—he opened his platter to see a simple breakfast of eggs and fried vegetables waiting for him... and a sealed letter sitting right next to it, bearing his name on it.

He opened the letter and read through the contents within:

Prince Kandro,

If you would, I would like to request your presence as soon as possible. There is somepony of note that I would like you to meet. Your companions may choose to join you, if you wish. I shall be in the study, where we spoke last night, but if you get lost again, do not hesitate to seek out a guard for directions. I know the castle can be quite confusing sometimes.

-Princess Celestia, Paragon of the Sun

P.S. You may find that this pony is quite... clashing with what my sister and I have taught to you and your ancestors. I would kindly ask that you refrain from brandishing weapons while in his presence.

He took a bite of his eggs, surprised at the fluffiness of the food. He’d had his fair share of eggs from the Empire, but deserts were not kind to chickens... and he didn’t know if they were a delicacy in Equestria like back home. Well, they had water and fertile land. Why not lots of chickens while they were at it?

The breakfast was a quick affair, as he ingested them as fast as he could allow. If the princess wanted to speak to him, then there was no use in keeping her waiting. Downing the dregs of his morning brew, a steaming cup of Equestrian tea, he moved to his armor, sitting on a pile on the nightstand next to his bed.

Every piece of golden plate was attached to his armor, but he did not bear as much as Tehin did, nor as little as Artim: the martialsword practice required fluidity in movement and freedom of stance, but the basics of protection never hurt. So it was that he suited up in a matter of moments, his breastplate gleaming as he strapped his sword into his belt and left the room just as the sun fully rose over the horizon.

Finding out what she wanted to talk about was what interested him the most.

“Ah, Prince Kandro. Please, take a seat.” Celestia merely nodded towards the floor cushion next to her, a seat which Kandro took, sitting cross-legged.

“You wished to see me as soon as possible, so I figured it best that I avoid tarrying,” he said. “What do you wish to talk about?”

“Royalty,” she answered.

“Royalty?”

“Yes, Kandro.” Her magic flared, and she straightened out a set of pages on the floor in front of her, her quill dry from her hours of signing off on a plethora of decrees and requests, all of which she had painstakingly read through. “More specifically, yours and mine.”

“Well, what of mine, Your Majesty?”

“Please,” she said, holding her cuffed hoof into air to bid him pause. “Just call me Celestia. These titles can be quite overbearing when it’s the only thing you ever hear. Something that I’m sure you’ve tired of.”

“Of course... Celestia,” he said, fighting with himself over the enunciation of her name only to relent to the great alicorn’s request. “And you are right.. though I understand the mentality behind them, titles are not something I prefer to have thrown onto me at every occasion.”

“Then you would understand how I feel as the ruler of this land,” she said, giving a laugh that sounded almost musical, lilting in the air and reverberating with perfect harmony. “Formal affairs can just be so dreadfully boring.”

“I can understand that... so what of royalty did you wish to speak of?”

Celestia put aside her stationery and stack of papers before clearing her throat. “Here, in Canterlot—which I’ve been told you wish to visit today—is full of ponies from all walks of life. Many of them that you meet you will find to be quite amicable. Others, however... like my own nephew, Prince Blueblood, will have such a degree of arrogance that you will question how I could even let such transgressions stand in society. I would like to nip that in the bud immediately, by telling you that I do not impose upon my ponies, merely guide them.”

“You fear that we may overreact?” he asked.

“It is a... possibility that I’d rather not ignore. You see, back then, when we instilled life lessons into your people, those that strayed from the path were met with rather... well, it was not outright violence. But the looks on their faces betrayed all their kind words, an ostracization by glances far more damning than a sword. It took us quite a while before they could actively adhere to those tenets without our supervision.”

“I promise you, Celestia, we will be nowhere near as harsh,” Kandro said. “Your teachings have stayed with us throughout all these many years, and I will do everything in my power to make sure that it stays that way.”

She smiled. “And I thank you for that,” she said, standing as he did the same and walked with him out of the study. “Enjoy your day in the city and... well, would you look at that?”

Spreading her wing, she blocked Kandro’s path as she merely smiled at him and gestured with her head down the hall. Trotting down towards them was a unicorn with a coat of a most magnificent white, his blonde hair carefully tended to and giving him an aura of sophistication that could leave any bystander in awe.

Except for Kandro, of course.

“Kandro, I would like you to meet Prince Blueblood, my nephew, and heir to the head of House Blueblood,” Celestia said, just as the unicorn came to a stop before them.

“It’s an honor to meet you,” Kandro said, crossing his arms over his chest and bowing, the formal greeting of his people.

Blueblood, however, was not as enthused. “Hmph. Say, Auntie, have you seen the latest line of attire from Fancypants’ group? Absolutely fantastic. Aside from that, though, when have you started keeping the company of strange creatures?”

“He is not a creature, Blueblood,” Celestia replied calmly, perfectly in control of her patrician mask. “He is a human, an ancient ally of Equestria from ages past. He is here visiting on behalf of the Renascent Empire, just beyond the mountains to the west.”

“Well, it certainly must not be a large empire. I’ve never heard of it!” He examined Kandro carefully, his eyes giving a glint towards the human’s red-and-gold regalia. “But at least he seems to have some semblance of appearance, unlike the griffons. His color tone seems a bit odd. Are all you humans so darkly colored?”

“Indeed they are, Blueblood.” Celestia beat Kandro to a response, and they met eyes; briefly, but longer than a glance, which told Kandro all that he needed to know: say nothing more, and to let her do all the talking.

“They all look like that?” he asked. “But how do they tell the difference between a true noble and a commoner?” He gasped, shaking his head. “Absolutely dreadful! Imagine if everypony looked like me! Me! The great Prince Blueblood? I think I would have a heart attack!”

“Then it is perhaps a blessing that you are not a human. Their land is harsh, and not many of them can use magic. But they are tenacious, clever, and steadfastly loyal, and that makes them great allies and friends.”

“No magic?” Blueblood asked, again gasping. “I can hardly see how you would want to keep such company, Auntie! Such lowborns with no magic—not even a bit comparable to that of the peasant earth ponies, even—should not be kept as company for such esteemed royalty such as your—”

“Blueblood,” Celestia said. “Remember what we spoke of before? About being nice?”

“I... yes, Auntie, but I fail to see how that factors in here. Surely, you cannot—”

“Leave, Blueblood.”

He opened his mouth to speak again, letting it hang for a moment as Celestia’s firm reply gave him pause, her glare literally daring him to say anything more. “I... I have other things to attend to,” he said nervously, turning around and marching back down the way he had came.

“See what I meant?” Celestia asked, after he turned the corner at the end of the hall. “I hope you were not put off by his behavior. He’s hugely egotistic and very self-centered, but he does show a semblance of the humble and caring colt he once was every now and then.”

“I was not really offended,” Kandro said. “But I suppose I am thankful that it wasn’t a Prince Reugas standing before you. A good deal of people I have served with would have taken huge offense to having our name slandered so easily, and would easily fight back tooth and nail to preserve our image.”

“To sate my curiosity, what do you think he would have done, were he in your position, then?”

“Undoubtedly, most likely shout back at him, throwing in a few promises of threat by force, and then probably see his promise through if the point had not settled in by then. The more prideful of our people do not shy from a challenge.”

“Tenacious, as ever,” Celestia said, laughing. “Now I must attend to my Day Court. Enjoy your time in Canterlot, Prince Kandro. Please do try to avoid trouble while you are visiting.”

“Of course, Princess.”

“Just you two, then?” Kandro asked, meeting up with Tehin and Sehyia at the golden front gates at the entrance to the castle. “What of the other three?”

“Back in the castle,” Tehin said, shrugging. “Reugas said he didn’t really care, and said something about heading down to the guard barracks to practice his marksmanship. Artim is busy collecting his notes still, and Yhimit... well, he answered his door, only to refuse our offer to enter the city.”

“At least there’s still us,” Sehyia cheerily said. “Let’s go see what the city has to offer!”

“The whole place is made of wood and stone,” Kandro said, leading them out the gates and watching as a pony-pulled carriage dashed past them. “And the architecture is something to behold. A true sister capital to Renascence.”

“They do not have an equivalent to Fort Renot,” Tehin mentioned. “Nor is their castle as impressive as the imperial family’s Capital Spire. I believe we hold the advantage in magnificence in that regard.”

They walked down the cobblestone streets and entered the heart of downtown Canterlot, where workers busied themselves attending to everyday tasks and the wealthy ponies of the city eagerly chatted amongst themselves over the happenings of the high-life world, only for all eyes to become glued on the trio of humans as they walked down the street.

“I guess we must be quite the curiosities to them...” Sehyia said.

“Knowing our luck, I’d wager that it’s Tehin who’s the curiosity,” Kandro said. “You’re a special case, even among our kind. I do not ever recall seeing any other man as large as you.”

“They say I have the blood of kings running in my veins,” the massive man responded, the staff strewn across his back almost as large as he was, as some bystanders noted to each other. “I do not know much of it myself. Perhaps I am merely blessed by my ancestors.”

“Ooh, this way! Equestrian finery and raiments!” Sehyia said, excitedly pointing down to a street of shops. “And they all have their own buildings! So unlike Renascence. I sort of miss the bustling market square there, though, it was always so lively, and here it’s just... more mellow.”

They approached the first store, a shop with a display of plenty of fanciful dresses in the front window, and no sooner had they stepped through the front door did they run into a familiar unicorn. The mare simply gave them a look of surprise before beaming back at them.

“Hello, darlings!” Rarity said, trotting up to Sehyia. “And hello to you, Sehyia! What brings you out into Canterlot today?”

“The city just looks amazing,” Sehyia said. “We simply had to come and see for ourselves! What are you doing here, Rarity, and may I ask who your companion is?” she asked, watching as the stallion Rarity was with arrived alongside her and magically tipped his hat towards Sehyia in greeting.

“Greetings, my good lady. I am Fancypants, and I am an acquaintance of Rarity’s. As you can see, we are shopping around today for new clothing for her. She claims that she is to depart on an important task very soon, and she’s claimed to me that she just has to be prepared! She’s been incredibly interested in attire with shades of red, almost like yours, in fact!”

“Really, now?” Sehyia said, laughing. “Well, Rarity, I should let you know that it would be wise of you to find light and breathable fabrics. While I do agree a lady must look her best, it would all be for naught if it causes you supreme discomfort, yes? Oh, and a hat would also be useful, as well.”

“Ah...” Fancypants said, nodding. “I think I get where this is going. This ‘task’ wouldn’t have something to do with them, would it?” He wiggled his eyebrows at Rarity, causing her to giggle and wave her hoof at him in embarrassment.

“Really, I had thought to keep it more secret!” she said. “Yes, I am visiting their lands. From what they have told me, it is quite hot and dry over there, so I think I shall take Sehyia’s advice into account.”

“Be sure to remind your friends, as well,” Kandro instructed. “As much as I am sure ponies are fine with simply having the most minimal of dress, our people are not entirely used to it, and we’d rather prefer it if you could keep yourselves covered. Not to mention the sand... make sure your clothes are sealed together well. Sand is already irritating enough for us at it is; no doubt it would be far worse if ponies had it stuck in their coats.”

“I agree,” Fancypants said. “I’ve been on several meetings to the Griffon Kingdom, which in itself has no shortage of such dry and dusty lands. She is visiting your lands, yes? Might I ask what you are, exactly?”

“You are correct, and to answer your second question: we are humans,” Kandro said, tipping his head in respect to Fancypants. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Fancypants. I am Kandro, the goliath here with me is my friend Tehin, and I’m sure Rarity has readily introduced Sehyia.”

“Haha, it is strange that your name is Fancypants,” Tehin said. “You are not even wearing any! Though you are quite fancy, yes. And that mark on your... well, I find it funny how all ponies seem to have a mark like that! Very unique, I can see.”

“Oh, this old thing?” Fancypants said, looking back to his own cutie mark. “Yes, all ponies have their own, and the young ones eventually find their talent and obtain one themselves. Are you familiar with these cutie marks?”

“I believe we are,” Kandro replied. “Princess Celestia and Princess Luna seem to have shown that they have their own during our conversation with them.”

“Ah, guests of the Princess, then?” Fancypants gave a sly smile to Rarity. “You do keep such unusual company, Rarity, and ones always involved with true royalty, at that. Never a dull moment with you, is it?”

“Oh, Fancypants, you flatter me!” Rarity said. “Please, Sehyia, let me take you on a tour of one of Equestria’s greatest cities! I promise you’ll have quite the time.”

“Actually, we would like that,” Sehyia said. “Otherwise, I think we would have wandered around aimlessly until we were set to gather for our journey tonight. So, with... um... Kandro’s permission, we could travel with you...?” She looked expectantly at Kandro.

He shrugged and nodded. “Why not? No harm in it, and who better to guide us than one who knows the city?” he said, looking over his shoulder at Tehin who had become enthralled in a conversation with a store employee over the type of fabric used in one of their dresses, colored a hue of radiant violet. “Besides, it certainly looks like Tehin is enjoying his time.”

“Ooh, violet,” Sehyia said. “We have all manners of coloring from the Renascent Empire, but it seems that our affinity for colors has finally been matched.” She weaved her fingers through a roll of green silk sitting next to her. “And with such fine craftsmanship, too.”

“Then enough with the shopping!” Rarity exclaimed. “I think my current wardrobe shall easily suffice for the future days. Come, Sehyia!” she said, wrapping a hoof around the woman’s waist and pointing her hoof out the window. “Let me show you... Canterlot!”

V: Nightfall

C h a p t e r 5 :

N i g h t f a l l

You see all of this? This is the Empire that we’ve struggled for so long to make. Our lives, our loved ones, and our culture were destroyed when the Trickster began his conquest, as he sought to take everything from us that we held dear. We rebuilt from all of that, and that Renascence still stands is a great monument to our struggle against his tyranny. You see many people, conversing happily in the mornings. Children happily playing in the streets and attending to their chores. A clear blue sky that says more about our accomplishments than any book can ever tell you. This is what we fight for. This is what we must preserve.

-The Protectors, General Tiraen, 1507 RY

Sehyia happily walked alongside Rarity and Fancypants, deep in conversation, as Kandro followed behind them with Tehin, who was now carrying a single roll of Canterlotian fabric, a most pristine purple linen that he wished to bring home to his family. Such was the first beginnings of trade between the Empire and Equestria.

“So, is your capital city anywhere near as grandiose as ours?” Fancypants asked.

“Oh, certainly,” Sehyia said. “Perhaps even more so. The walls stand as high as the highest tower within Canterlot’s castle, and the Capital Spire that sits at the heart of the city, where the royal family resides, towers far above the city itself. It’s a magnificent sight. You should visit sometime... well, after our current situation at hand has been dealt with.”

“Situation?” he asked, raising a brow over his monocled eye. “Ah, I assume that would be something I’d be better off not knowing... royal business and all that. Not discounting Rarity’s position, of course, which she had kindly filled me on just this past month.”

Rarity giggled. “Yes, it is quite the important position, indeed. Ah, let’s stop here! I’d love to show you some of Canterlot’s finest cuisine.”

“The Cloudspire?” Kandro read.

“Of course,” Rarity said, handing a small yellow slip to the bouncer outside, who glanced at it once and nodded gruffly, unhooking the red rope blocking off their entrance into the establishment. “Now, please come along! I’m sure you’ll just love the salad here. The hay is perfectly seasoned, and—”

“Um, Rarity...” Sehyia interrupted.

“Yes, darling?”

“Humans can’t really eat hay... or flowers, for that matter. Well, I think it’s more accurate to say humans can eat flowers, but... you know, not the kind that ponies eat.”

“Really? What kind of flowers do you eat?”

Sehyia sighed. “You’ll have to ask Artim about it in-depth then, when he has free time. But for the most part is that... yes, we can eat flowers. No, they don’t taste good, nor do they seem as appetizing to us as they do to ponies.”

“Oh...” Rarity said, nodding in agreement. “Very well! I am sure you can at least consume leafy greens, yes?” she asked hopefully. “Well, we have dressings to go with it, and I’m sure you can also eat eggs?”

“We can eat greens and eggs,” Sehyia confirmed as she walked alongside Rarity. A group of Canterlotian stallions were equally whispering amongst themselves, jabbing a hoof towards their direction only to cut their discussion short the moment Tehin stepped in through the door. At that moment, every pony in the room had their jaws drop in sheer amazement at his size.

“Looks like you’re quite the curiosity, Tehin,” Kandro said.

Tehin laughed, causing some of the ponies to shy away in surprise. “Ah, it seems the reactions are the same here as they are back home... although it’s a bit more of the surprised part here and less of the children being curious as to how I managed to grow so tall.”

“You are, by far, the largest acquaintance I have ever made,” Fancypants said, bringing out his coinpurse only for Rarity to put a hoof on his shoulder and shake her head. “Are you sure, Rarity? I mean, you did pay the last time you visited...”

“Oh, of course, darling. I insist,” Rarity persisted. “Especially when we have such important guests to attend to... I’m sure you’d rather not exhaust your funds before our day is over, hmm?”

Fancypants smiled. “Well... I guess I can’t argue with that. Please, go on.”

“Thank you,” Rarity said soothingly, pulling out a gold-trimmed card stamped with the seal of the Equestrian Crown on it from her purse and presented it to the clerk at the desk. “Table for five, please.”

“As you wish, my lady,” the clerk said, dropping the card into the register next to him and clapped his hooves. In the blink of an eye, a waiter appeared from the back room, immaculately groomed and wearing a tuxedo as he bowed to them. “Please, follow the waiter. He will find a table for you and your guests.”

“Fantastic!” Rarity cheered, waving a hoof for the group to move forward and enter the dining area. “Ah, Sehyia, please, you must tell me how humans keep their manes in check. I see that yours just flows so well, and it seems to be such a natural fit for you! What style do you call that?”

“Well... it’s a... ponytail...” Sehyia said, giggling. “It’s not hard to see why we called it that.”

“Oh, how quaint! To think that you’d even have a manestyle named after us is so... interesting! I can see that some males of your kind don’t take well to tending after their manes, though,” she said, looking pointedly at Tehin, whose unruly hair had been tied into a simple knot at the back of his head.

“If it so pleases you, my explanation for that is that I am a warrior, Lady Rarity. I have no time for such superficial concerns such as my hair. All that matters is that it remains out of the way during battle so as to not obstruct my vision.”

“Well, I’m sure if your hair wasn’t so unkempt, you wouldn’t have to end up tying it into a knot,” Rarity mused on. “In any case, I can only imagine how horrid it must be trying to keep up appearances in a place that you’ve all described to be so dry. Aside from many hats, what else should I expect to pack, considering that your kind seem to wear clothes as a cultural standard? I know about the fabrics, but I’m more interested in what kind of clothes I should be packing.”

“Well, we usually tend to wear light garb,” Kandro explained. “Nothing frilly or overdone, as the sand will usually tarnish the cloth in short order. Utility is your best bet in this case. You should also take the fact that we’ll be moving constantly into consideration.”

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind,” Rarity said, letting Fancypants pull out a seat for her at their table as Kandro did the same for Sehyia. “Oh, my. I see that humans also follow the convention of seating the ladies first?”

“Undoubtedly not a coincidence,” Tehin said, thankful that the seats’ luxuriousness came with the addition of increased size. “We did learn many things from the Paragon and Protector during the span of the Reformation Era, ones which I believe that we inherited from ponies, actually.”

“Ah, it pleases me to know that visiting your lands won’t be as jarring as it is for griffon lands,” Rarity said, looking to Fancypants. “You’ve visited the Griffon Kingdom before, have you not?”

“Indeed I have,” Fancypants said. “They’re rather... brusque in their conversations towards foreigners. The tact it requires to properly negotiate with them is a special talent. It pleases me that possible future relations between Equestrians and humans will not be as unpleasant.”

“Oh, I agree. Now let’s see...” Rarity said, taking off her summer hat and opening up the menu in front of her. “Salads... salads... oh, I suggest you all try the fruit medley salad. It’s probably the best bet considering almost all the other dishes seem to contain flowers in them.”

“Equestrian fruits?” Kandro said. “I’d love to try those.”

“Three fruit medleys, then?” the waiter asked, having been patiently waiting for their orders after he’d finished guiding them to their table. “And what will you and the lady be having today, Lord Fancypants?”

“Two of the bouquet salad, please, with extra rose chips on top today, if you don’t mind. And that’ll be our order for today”

“Of course,” the waiter said, taking their menus from the table and stacking them on his back before trotting off in the direction of the kitchen, passing by numerous tables of ponies whispering to each other in excitement, ready to bring up such an interesting piece of gossip at their next gatherings.

“This gathering is proving to be much more interesting than I thought it would be,” Kandro said, experienced in the matters of the upper echelon of the Imperial Court, where gossip worked the exact same way. “I assume you chose such a high-visibility location for a reason?”

“Oh, very astute, Prince Kandro,” she said, stressing the word to any pony within earshot. “Yes, I have to confess, I did do this to... start some rumors over your visit. You being a prince from another nation, after all... that’s quite the tempting deal, especially once trade between us begins. Who you know is very important in the fashion business.”

“I hadn’t expected to be dining with a prince, of all things,” Fancypants said. “Forgive me, Your Majesty. Had I known that we were going to be in the presence of royalty...” he continued, giving an irritated glance at Rarity, who merely gave an awkward smile and shrunk into her seat. “...I would have made sure that we would have dined at somewhere less... noticeable.”

“And you made it a show to mention that he was a prince...” Tehin said quietly. “...unexpected, but not wholly malicious. Such initiative on her part is impressive, but I fear that our visit is only temporary, or at least for now. Your intended goal may not have the effect you wanted.”

“But it’s enough to let the ponies know that there exists another civilization beyond that of the griffons, if Fancypants’ reaction towards us means anything. Are you not well-versed in other nations besides the Kingdom?” Kandro said.

“Well, the maps aren’t particularly updated, and we only amended it to include what the griffons had given us. Aside from that, there’s the frozen north, where the dragons reside, and Zebrica, which lies to the east. We had simply assumed that there was not much to search for in the lands west, given the conditions.”

“Across the Blackridge Mountains, yes. Seems that no one, not even the ponies, are willing to traverse across it.” The waiter soon returned with their meals, along with another staff member: the manager, from what it seemed.

“Greetings, my lord and lady,” the manager said, bowing his head at Fancypants and Rarity. “I trust everything has been to your liking?” He waved the waiter forward to place their meals in front of them.

“Everything has been splendid so far,” Rarity answered for them.

“Excellent!” the manager replied happily. “Then I hope you all enjoy your meal. Lord, lady, and Your Majesty...” he said, making his exit with the waiter as they both bowed and left them to their meal.

“Well, they caught on fast...” Kandro said, grabbing his fork and digging into the plate of fruit and greens on his plate. “Forks... how do ponies use forks, exactly?”

“We... use it like you do, really,” Rarity said, levitating hers with magic and poking into her flower salad with a dainty jab. “See? Like so.” She took a bite of her sunflower, giving a pleased sigh at how scrumptious it was.

“Do all such meals for the higher rungs of pony society go like this?” Tehin asked, holding the fork between his finger and thumb, having been made to pony size instead of his. “The atmosphere in here is quite... stifling. Enough so that the first thing Reugas would have done is storm out of the building with a very improper show of language to find the nearest pub.”

“It’s quite pleasing, though, isn’t it? I think Artim would like it in here,” Sehyia said. “It’s like a library. He would feel right at home.”

“Or he would,” Kandro said, pausing to chew on a piece of orange. “If it wasn’t for all the stares that we’ve been getting, that is. I would imagine that attention seems to be the last thing you want to draw to yourself here.”

“You are very true, Your Majesty,” Fancypants said. “The Canterlot elite have very peculiar tastes and mannerisms... I feel that with your visit and status, they may very well be forced into rethinking their standards. I do not know if you have met our prince yet, but most of them tend to act like him. It’s not very pleasing to have to deal with such ruffians, but you didn’t hear that from me.”

“Ah, yes, Prince Blueblood...” Kandro said, frowning at the thought of his conversation with him. It certainly could have taken a turn for the worse had Princess Celestia not been present to keep him in check. “I have spoken with him... and I know exactly what you are getting at.”

“Yes. To have a prince, of all ponies, acting like that is such a sham for all of us in Equestria.” He floated over a glass of wine, taking a sip from it before clearing his throat to continue. “He and I have been at odds on many matters in the Equestrian day court... he has more clout than you think.”

“Which is why a prince such as yourself is a breath of fresh air,” Rarity added, taking a sip of wine herself, only to nearly have it all spill out through her nose as she saw Tehin down his glass in a single gulp. “Oh, dear, you remind me so much of my Rainbow Dash. She would have no qualm of doing such a thing, even when surrounded by more sophisticated ponies.”

“Rainbow Dash...” Tehin said, nodding as he recalled the mare’s appearance. “Perhaps I should challenge her to a drinking contest. How well can ponies hold their liquor?”

“Well, Dash is quite the drinker, especially for her chosen beverage: apple cider. For other things like wine, I’m not sure. I’ve never found her drinking any.”

“Another interesting thing about ponies to keep in mind, it seems. The love of alcohol seems to be universal among—” Tehin began, only to be interrupted by a massive flash of energy coming from right next to their table. “Get down, my liege!” he said, knocking Kandro off his chair and onto the floor as Sehyia jumped out of hers, drawing her sword towards the glowing sphere.

White turned to purple and then suddenly vanished, leaving behind a confused arcanist on the ground to catch his breath. “...Artim?” Sehyia asked. “What in the name of the ancestors are you doing?”

“...huh? Oh, hello, Sehyia. As you can see...” he said, rolling off of his back and slapping the dust off his robes as he got onto his feet. “...I seem to have managed to successfully complete a teleportation spell! I studied straight through the night and pored over dozens of books within the library, and it’s rather straightforward. Problem is, though, is that it relies upon magical reserves which I’m afraid that I can barely supply.”

“So you can’t cast the spell consistently?” Kandro asked, knocking off Tehin’s hand pinning him against the ground and sitting upright. “How did you manage to find us?”

“To answer your questions: no, and I found you all by sort of... honing in on your magical signatures, if you would. It’s amazing, you know: almost every single being here has their own brand of magical essence, and humans are notably different from ponies because... well, to describe it in colors, we’re more ‘red’ than the ponies’, which is more ‘blue’. Undoubtedly something to do with our combat magic, I believe. Oh, is that food? I’m famished,” Artim ended, picking up Kandro plate of salad and scarfing it all down unceremoniously before stopping mid-chew in thought. “...is this fruit? It’s quite good.”

“Yes, it’s fruit... how long has it been since you’ve eaten?” Sehyia asked the mummy-faced mage.

“Hmm?” Artim asked, swallowing the rest of the food. “Oh, um... I think yesterday morning.”

“You do know they sent catering to us, right? They had food for breakfast,” Sehyia said, sheathing her blade and sitting down as a waiter brought out another seat for their new guest. “Thank you, waiter, that will be all. Sit down, Artim.”

“Don’t mind if I do,” he said. “I was wondering what that thumping noise was. I just chalked it off to my mind throbbing since I had pulled an all-night study session. Now, this isn’t the first time, mind you; I’ve pulled such things before, just not with such... unpredictable results. This was my first time casting the spell, actually.”

“You do realize teleportation is a powerful spell, don’t you?” Rarity said. “Twilight is a rare exception of a unicorn who can do so consecutively. You must be a powerful magic user if managed to pull off such a feat.”

“Is that so?” Artim said, pulling out a small notepad and tiny quill to write with. “...teleportation is uncommon, even amongst unicorns... pony librarians are woefully inadequate when it comes to knowledge of proper archiving and book caretaking... note to self: bring back samples of Equestrian magic...”

“Did you speak with anyone before you casted your spell?” Kandro asked. “I’d rather not had back to the castle now to find out that you’ve left a crater where your room used to be.”

“Oh, damn, I sure hope not.”

“Well, I’m sure Reugas or Yhimit would be the first to know...” Sehyia said.

“Artim? What the fuck are you doing in here, you crazy basta—hmm?” Reugas said, pushing open the door to Artim’s quarters quietly. “He’s not here. Artim? Are you here?” he called out, looking underneath the bed and uprighting fallen shelves. “Ugh, what a mess.”

The room was in a complete state of disarray; aside from the table in which Artim kept most of his study materials from the night before, books littered the floor, with several pyramids of magical study textbooks and reports stacked around the bed. Papers covered the ground like snow, across every inch of the room save for the center: that was where a small scorch mark and the wisps of black smoke rose, the aftermath of a recently-casted spell.

“Aw, damn it,” Reugas said, kneeling over the smoldering circle and rubbing his fingers against it. “Did he just go and blow himself up?” He walked to the far end of the room and onto the balcony, where he could see the archery range he’d been practicing at before he’d seen a bright flash coming from Artim’s room, prompting his visit. “Where did you go, arcanist...?”

“Sir!” A pair of pegasus guards floated up in front of him. “Is there any trouble? We noticed the flash of light from the training grounds down the range. Is anyone hurt?”

“No one’s hurt,” Reugas said, scratching the back of his head. “But there used to be someone here. Someone who is now mysteriously absent.” He nodded over his shoulder. “Judging by the looks of it, my friend has casted a spell that somehow either killed him or thrown him somewhere that isn’t here.”

“I see, sir,” the lead guard responded. “Would you like us to put out a notice for him?”

“That would be nice. Should also bring this up to the Paragon and Protector...” When he received blank looks, he sighed. “...the princesses. It would probably be a good idea to let them know about this. As for me... well, I guess I have a manhunt to carry out.”

“Of course, sir, as you wish. We’ll notify the princesses immediately.” They saluted and immediately shot away, heading for the largest spire within the castle grounds, close to where the throne room was situated at. Reugas turned around, trading his resplendent view of Canterlot’s valley for Artim’s crime scene. “You know, it would be a lot easier to track you if you didn’t just up and disappear...”

A pair of taps on the nearby door drew his attention away from a pile of papers at his feet, and he saw Yhimit standing there, tilting his head questioningly at the spectacle. Reugas merely shrugged at him, and picked up several papers and gleaned them all over. “Teleportation spells...? Figures that he would want to try it as soon as possible...”

Yhimit, still in his trademark mask and hood and looking exactly the same as he did the previous night, simply strolled inside and began picking up the notes and paper, stacking them in order on the table as Reugas continued to read over the bits of spell theory that Artim had managed to splice together.

Then the sound of hoofs clopping against stone faintly grew, and then a squad of unicorn guards stormed inside, waving their horns around in blueish glow as they scanned the area. “Out of the way! We’re here to investigate this location!” one of them, clad in purple armor, shouted.

“Calm yourself, Captain Armor,” Luna’s voice called from outside. “We are merely here to investigate the disappearance of one of our guests.” She entered with regal flourish, and Yhimit immediately bowed to her. Reugas, however, was not so quick to do so.

“Shouldn’t you have detected something like this?” Reugas asked.

“Normally, we would have,” Luna admitted, brushing her hoof against the dark stain on the carpeted ground. “But human magic is... unique. It has a signature that we were not tuned to expect. There are traces of magic here, and we can use it to find him... but I hadn’t expected any of you to delve into our archives so... fervently.”

“But you can track him, right? Gods, I hope hasn’t shot himself halfway to griffon lands by now or anything,” Reugas said, holding up one of the papers to Luna’s eyes. “See, here: he said he was going to use something or someone as a focus for the spell. If the idiot had any sense in him, he would have most likely picked one of us to do it; he’s too unfamiliar with pony magic to do anything otherwise.”

“I agree,” Celestia said, trotting in behind her sister and giving her own grimace at the state of the room. “I see that Artim certainly has a preference for books and studying, much like my faithful student does.”

“Can you find him or not?” Reugas cut in.

“Yes, we can find him,” Luna replied. “This will take but a moment...” Copying the guards, her own horn lighted itself with a deep blue magic, reaching out and brushing over the mark on the floor as her eyes closed in concentration. “Yes... I can sense him... he has gone to... to... the city...”

“You mean Canterlot?” Shining Armor asked. “I’ll send guards to find him immediately...”

“No! Hold on...” Luna said, her brow creasing in frustration. “I can... see... other things. He used a teleportation spell, so I can, for a moment, scry where he is... he is with the Element of Generosity... Rarity, and... the prince and his companions.”

“Yeah, they said they would be visiting the town today,” Reugas noted, rubbing his chin. “So the bastard used the prince as a focus. I could have sworn that arcanists were supposed to limit the use of magic to simply themselves and not others. If I’m right, I’ll beat the crap out of him later. For now, I guess the most important thing is: are they unharmed?”

“They are.”

“Fantastic! Let’s just go grab them before we—” He stopped and his eyes went wide; the hair on the back of his head stood up straight, and an ill feeling settled in his stomach. Meeting eyes with Yhimit, it seemed that the disciple felt the same, for the Masked Terror’s first reaction was to immediately draw his swords.

“...is something wrong?” Celestia asked warily.

“You don’t feel it?”

“Feel what?”

“That feeling... like it’s suddenly gotten cold, and there’s something’s breathing down your neck. Something ancient. Something deadly,” Reugas said, tilting his head into the air as he clenched his right fist, and subconsciously drifted his left to his bow. “I’ve felt this before... as every human has. There are intruders about. Dangerous ones. Lock down the castle, now.”

Shining Armor and the guards looked to Celestia for an answer. “...shall we, Your Majesty?”

“...yes. Put the whole castle and city on lockdown. I want all exits watched,” Celestia said. “How sure are you of this threat, Reugas?”

Reugas pulled his bow out and notched an arrow into the string, as Yhimit twirled his swords as he idled about. “With all due respect, Paragon, this is not a new thing for us... ever since the Trickster has begun leaking his energies, we’ve become rather keen at detecting when his soldiers are about to show up... and now is no less different.”

“You mean he is going to invade?” Celestia immediately asked, as Shining Armor and his squad quickly exited the room, shouting to any guard within earshot to raise alert.

“No, he won’t invade. This is more of a... side-effect of his seals weakening. But I guess it would make sense that he would be aware that we’ve come to you for help. Nothing can escape his gaze it seems,” Reugas said, waving at Yhimit. “Come, Yhimit. We need to find our prince. Princesses, if you so would, please take to immediately locking down this castle with magic, if you can.”

“Will it help? What should we expect?”

“I assume it should help, assuming that you two are still able to fight and cast magic as readily as the books say you could. As for the beasts, you should do well to know that they are powerful... and that they can turn up anywhere.”

“Oh, no,” Luna said, holding a hoof to her mouth. “I... we must prepare for this as soon as possible. If this is true, then we must muster our forces to send aid to the Empire as soon as possible.”

“I doubt that will be needed, Your Majesty,” Reugas said, observing Yhimit as he laid one of his swords down upon the table and began scratching out a message on a blank piece of parchment. “...is that so? Well, I guess this means that the threat can be easily contained, after all.”

“Has the threat already been found?” Celestia asked, as Luna’s horn continued to glow, spread across the entire room and into the castle grounds beyond as she began to seek out pockets of chaotic magic.

“No... but Yhimit tells me that, supposedly, magical studies conducted by the arcanists and scholars at Lherren show that your lands are... resilient against chaotic energies,” Reugas said, reading off Yhimit’s message as he wrote it out. “He... says it has something to do with the harmony of the lands. Prevents the Trickster from sending his minions in wholesale like he does with ours.”

“How does he know this?” Celestia asked, giving Yhimit a curious glance as she continued to press her question. “It seems that not even you, Reugas, seems to know this. How come he does?”

“I have my doubts as to the validity of his claims, but Yhimit is, by far, our second best scholar when Artim is not around. He is a disciple, a warrior of both body and mind: as such, his calling brings him to places where spiritual and intellectual enlightenment can be attained... both of which can be found at Lherren, and their archives of knowledge are extensive.”

Another pegasus guard flew in through the window, taking off his helmet before bowing before the princesses. “Your Majesties! We already have patrols in the air and scouting across the city, though we have found no traces of any danger so far.”

“Very good. Keep up your patrols until I notify you otherwise,” Celestia said, before the guard saluted and dropped his helmet back on, dashing out the window again and blowing up a plume of papers in his wake. “Then, go now, humans. Find your—”

Reugas made no reply, instead firing his bow and quickly notching in another arrow in rapid succession. Two shots. Three. Four. Five. And a final sixth one before he finally stopped as Yhimit took notice of Reugas’ attack and turned himself around, only to find a beast laying dead at the doorway, three arrows stuck within each eye socket.

So fast had it occurred that in the time it took for Celestia to turn around and look at the floor, the beast was already dead. “How... did you react with such speed?”

“Training. And perhaps a bit of magic on the side,” Reugas said, checking his quiver and smiling at his ample reserves of ammunition. “Our use of magic is more focused than yours. Enhances our reflexes, and for my more sword-oriented companions, their strength. And if I may, Paragon, welcome you to the sight of your first chaos beast in many years.”

They looked on with disgusted curiosity as the beast’s body began to turn to cinders, flames engulfing its form until it had burned itself into nothing, leaving no trace that it had ever walked upon the earth.

“There must be more,” Celestia pointed out.

“Agreed. That feeling that I had earlier was fleeting, though... I cannot sense the presence of anymore at the moment. You should be careful, lest they sneak into the castle grounds unopposed.”

“Then I will take up the defense of the castle. Stay with my sister as she continues scrying, and—”

“—and I have found them!” Luna cried out. “Gather yourselves, humans. I shall take you to them immediately. They are at the Cloudspire, in the heart of downtown Canterlot, and they are still oblivious to the events that have just occurred.”

“Will this be unpleasant like last time?” Reugas asked reluctantly.

Luna mischievously smiled at him. “Only if you aren’t prepared.”

“...er, is something wrong, darling?” Rarity asked, dropping a pile of bits on their table’s check and eyeing them worryingly. “You all seem to be on edge, even more than I am when I’m about to attend a high-end fashion show.”

“Hmm? Oh, there’s... nothing wrong,” Sehyia assured her, smiling awkwardly and nodding. “Just... a little chilly, that’s all.”

“But the sun is quite clear in the sky, and it’s quite warm,” Fancypants gave in response. “Are you sure you are not just feeling ill? Even if it does seem to be all of you?”

“There is... trouble brewing,” Tehin said, picking up his staff. “Stand back, little ponies, I shall deal with this.”

“Five,” Artim said, nodding to himself.

“Five?” Kandro asked. “Five what?”

“Five beasts. And one of them just died...” Artim continued, smirking at Kandro’s gaping expression. “Surprised? It’s a little trick I’ve picked up recently... like trying to pick out a single drop of water in the middle of a rainstorm. Took many months to perfect it, but I can tell how many of them there are within this city. There are five.”

“And one of them... is right there...” Sehyia said, grinding metal echoing across the deathly silent room as she drew her blade in response to the materializing beast in front of them.

“I... oh, my,” Fancypants managed to say.

“What... is... that...?” Rarity said, her hooves failing to respond as Sehyia and Tehin stepped in front of her.

“Something that won’t be living for long,” Tehin said, slamming the tip of his staff into the ground with a thud in challenge to the beast’s malicious gaze. “Not the first we’ve fought... but they are ferocious, nonetheless. And completely merciless. We will deal with this one.”

“More are coming,” Artim warned. “They are converging on our position.”

Sure enough, three more pools of dark energy began to coalesce on the floor, appearing in tandem with a bright blue flash of energy as Princess Luna appeared with Reugas and Yhimit. “ATTENTION: CITIZENS OF CANTERLOT!” Luna shouted with her Royal Canterlot voice. “I BESEECH YOU ALL TO SEEK SHELTER AND PROTECTION IMMEDIATELY! LOCATE THE NEAREST GUARD AND STAY AWAY FROM THIS BUILDING UNTIL THEN!”

Taking the cue to flee, ponies began to scream and run in earnest as they all flew, jumped out of the first story windows, or stormed out of the front door as they began clearing out from their tables in the restaurant and kitchen in droves. All of them avoided the humans and the beasts as they stood in a faceoff, gauging each other’s reactions before deciding to strike.

“...you actually brought that giant stick of yours into town?” Reugas whispered to Tehin.

“...a warrior never leaves home without his weapon.”

“...point taken. What’s in the bag?”

“Equestrian cloth.”

“Would make you a pretty gold piece at the markets, huh?”

“Stop chatting and get them already, you fools!” Artim said, taking the initiative by holding his hands together and conjuring a fireball, then unleashing its pyrokinetic fury against the closest beast to his right. The beast countered by bringing up its meaty arm to block the projectile, detonating it without much harm to himself as the flames only hissed off of its resilient skin.

“I... what should we do?!” Rarity asked Kandro, who had his blade drawn and stabbed into the ground as he crouched behind the table with them.

“Just... let them handle it. I’d get myself involved, but I’m sure they wouldn’t like that.”

“Agreed, my liege, just stay back here and we’ll do all the work,” Reugas said, rolling back across the table and joining him, letting loose several arrows as the rest of the Pillars went to work. “Just try not to get yourself killed. That goes double for you ponies. Keep your heads down; don’t want an incident on our hands here.”

“Are there more of them?” Sehyia asked Artim.

“No, surprisingly, there’s not.” He put his hand, glowing with purple energy, into the air and surrounded himself with an aura. “They’re... these ones are weaker, somehow. See, that one’s arm is already starting to fall off...”

“Then let us finish this quickly!” Tehin shouted, meeting one of the beasts mid-charge and slamming the butt of his staff into his face, before twirling around and delivering a blow to its stomach. The beast howled with pain until he brought his staff up and sent it crashing straight into the ceiling, waiting until it had smashed back into the ground before delivering a killing blow straight to its head.

Yhimit and Sehyia split off to Tehin’s left and right, respectively, and to take on the remaining unoccupied beasts, as Artim began to be backed off of his towards the table which Kandro and Reugas now hid behind.

Rarity gasped. “It’s coming this way!”

“Don’t get your mane in a bunch, I got this,” Reugas said, pulling out a bulb-tipped arrow and firing it directly at the beast’s face. Instead of burrowing itself in like a regular arrow, however, it burst open upon contact, pasting the beast’s eyes with a blinding substance that only served to work against it when its hand became stuck to its face when it tried to wipe it off.

“Many thanks, Reugas!” Artim said, coiling back and forming a raging sphere of concentrated fire magic in his hands, charging it with no small amount of strain in his voice before he shot it forward, exploding the beast’s upper torso into oblivion before its lower body clumsily fell over.

“How dreadful,” Fancypants commented in a haze, so engrossed by the body’s fading presence that his monocle fell off.

“Hey, now, what’d I say about keeping your head down?” Reugas said, tapping the stallion on his head and moving him back next to Rarity.

The sound of blades piercing through flesh remained audible for the remainder of the fight, as remaining two beasts stood off against Yhimit and Sehyia. Tehin fell back to the table, relegating himself to defense and staying out of the way of the two sword-wielders’ more free-form fighting styles, while Artim stood by, eyes unblinking as he analyzed the fights with discerning eyes.

Sehyia’s form and blade began to shimmer with the telltale blue glow of her combat magic, and she dashed forward in a sprint that closed the distance between her and her target within the blink of an eye. Every strike by the beast only hit air or smashed into the ground as she continuously circled around it, hacking away at its vulnerable and critical spots, the blur left by her movements making it seem as if she were dancing around it.

Yhimit, however, shared no such grace in his strikes. Every swing was meant to be fast and brutal, striking as quickly and efficiently as possible as he dodged every strike and countered with one of his own. The beast was lacerated with dozens of double strikes over its entire body from his paired blades, and it wasn’t long before he’d whittled the beast’s normally impressive stamina down to nothing, and with a synchronized strike to its back, knocked the beast flat onto its stomach.

Black ichor dripped off of both Sehyia and Yhimit’s blades, as they both positioned themselves to deliver their final blows.

Sehyia gave a sideways strike to the back of the beast’s knee, knocking it off balance and forcing it to kneel on the ground, appearing next to its head with her sword ready to decapitate...

Yhimit jumped onto the back of the creature, twirling his swords into an underhand grasp and prepared to plunge them into its neck...

And both struck simultaneously, piercing the empty restaurant’s halls with the screams of dying demons once more as the thuds of flailing limbs and fidgety bodies were silenced by the rush of burning corpses and stench of viscous blood.

Rarity and Fancypants, although shellshocked, managed to pull themselves out of their stupor long enough to turn their gawking expressions at Princess Luna, who stood stone-faced and showing no signs of being as fazed as they were.

“...see, that wasn’t so bad,” Reugas said. “Just foot soldiers, that’s all.”

“Perhaps in that sense, it would be true,” Artim said, again with his quill out as he recorded several more details in his notes. “I hadn’t expected such fatalities to occur so soon after our visit. It has been only a day and yet the Trickster has already found us. We are not the First’s army, Reugas: we cannot fend off an invasion like the soldiers of the Wrathmarch were as capable of staving off.”

“Nor do we number as many as they did,” Kandro interjected. “The Wrathmarch was a last resort. I do not intend for our efforts to culminate in a similar conclusion.”

The rustle of wings and the sound of stomping hooves caught up to them; Shining Armor, along with what appeared to be an entire company of royal guards, entered the Cloudspire, fanning out in trios in every direction as he ventured towards Princess Luna to survey the situation.

“I... we arrived too late, didn’t we?” he asked her, scowling at the carnage.

“Indeed,” Luna said, waving her hoof towards the humans. “It would have been a catastrophe, had these brave warriors not already been here to intercept the threat. This now gives credence towards their warnings, however.” She looked to Rarity and unruffled the frightened unicorn’s mane as best as she could. “Be calm, Rarity. Take comfort in the thought that valiant warriors will be here to protect you on your journey.”

“I must express my doubts about this, Princess...” Rarity began.

Luna held up a hoof to stop her. “Say no more, Element of Generosity. I understand that you believe this assignment will put you far beyond your own comfort zone, for that of you and your friends. Believe me when I say that if my sister and I could take your places, we would. But the Elements have long since fallen beyond our control... so the task now lies with you. This evil is far too great to ignore.”

“I would suggest leaving as soon as possible,” Artim offered to her. “If he is already capable of striking at the heart of Equestria, there’s no telling what may happen once his seals began to wither away.”

“Of course,” Luna said. “Rarity, Prince Kandro, and company: you will leave for Ponyville within the hour. Gather your things... my sister will meet you there to see you off.”

“What the—?! So you’re tellin’ me that those dang crazy monsters just showed up in Canterlot like nothin’ and started attackin’ folks?!” Applejack asked, pulling down the brim of her hat to cover her face as she shook her head. “Shoot, I don’t even know what to say ‘bout that...”

“And Rarity was just so shaken up by whatever happened there...” Fluttershy said, wrapping a hoof around her friend as the unicorn failed to say anything beyond a mumble. “Shh, shh... it’s okay now, Rarity. Those things aren’t here anymore...”

“It’s okay, Fluttershy, I’m just... goodness, it’s still just too much to take in in such a short amount of time...” Rarity replied, shaking her head. “And Fancypants seemed adamant that he provide me with any sort of aid that I wished. If only I could have my own guard detail, but it’s already been decided that they’re already allocated to defending Equestria.”

“Seriously, I wish I was just there just so I could have kicked some serious flank!” Dash said, giving a one-two punch with her hooves into the air. “Those stupid guys are going to regret showing up in Equestria and trying to attack my friends!”

“Rainbow Dash, that is not what you will be doing,” Celestia said evenly, sitting at table in the center of Twilight’s treehouse with the rest of the Elements. “This is a very serious mission dealing with an enemy older than Discord and even myself.”

“Older than you?” Twilight asked. “But how?”

“I do not know the true details of his origins. Nopony does,” she said. “All I know is that in the beginning, by the time Luna and I had first established the beginnings of what was Equestria, we received a call for aid. A single man managed to find his way past the mountains west of Everfree Forest, and found us. He spoke of great and terrible evils plaguing his people, and Luna and I were duty-bound to assist them.”

The front door to the library opened and Princess Luna stepped inside along with the humans, the moon slowly rising behind her on the horizon. “It is time, little ponies,” she said. “Our preparations have been completed, and you all must be off now. Is Rarity still ill?”

“I am... fine... Princess Luna,” Rarity shakily replied. “I fear that this may be our most dangerous mission yet... far greater than anything we could have anticipated. So I’ve taken the liberty of putting together some basic, but sturdy, clothes for us on short notice.”

“You have?!” Pinkie asked. “I hope we all get boots, because I don’t want my hooves to hurt when we start walking around over there in the hot sand and stuff!”

“Yes... Fluttershy, have you brought the box like I told you to?” Rarity asked her friend.

“Oh, of course... it took a while, but you really hid away quite well behind your wall of cloth.” Fluttershy tapped the box right next to her, and opened the top using her wings. “Oh! There are boots in here, Pinkie...”

“You sure you made these, Rarity?” Applejack asked, pulling out a pair of plain brown workboots and eyeing them. “These seem a lot like regular workboots. I sort of thought you’d be makin’... more fancier stuff.”

“Well, I didn’t have much of a timespan to work with. I needed something that worked, and I needed it quickly. So I traded fashion for utility, or at least for the rest of you girls.” Rarity donned a silky black cloak and pulled the hood over her head. “I managed to put in some time for me, at least.”

“Wow, Rarity, you look like you’re ready for Nightmare Night!” Pinkie exclaimed, covering each of her hooves with a boot in a flash and started hopping around in them. “Wow, these things are so comfy! I could totally imagine being in these things all the time! We should totally have a Rarity-made-all-these-on-short-notice party or something! Ooh, speaking of parties, I wonder what human parties are like!”

“Loud, boisterous, and with lots of eating and drinking!” Tehin responded. “You will fit in just fine, pink one!”

Pinkie gasped and jumped on Tehin’s shoulders. “Really? Nothing like the boring old Grand Galloping Gala with all those fancy nobleponies and stuff? Just partying? And jokes and laughing and food and drinks everywhere? Can we go save the world yet? I really want to see one of these parties!”

“You and me both,” Reugas said, patting Tehin on the side of his back, being unable to reach the giant’s shoulders. “Duty comes first, however. The celebrations must wait until our task is finished.”

Applejack threw a tunic over herself and hopped into her boots, hat still intact on her head. “Shoot, these things aren’t half bad, Rarity! Might I even say that they’d be good enough to use durin’ applebuck season,” she said, checking out the finer details of her clothes. “You even put in apple embroidery on the flank! That’s some nice detail...”

“Of course, darling. How else was I to distinguish between each of your travel wear?” Rarity said, pulling a set of protective wraps over Fluttershy’s forelegs. “So long as you don’t do anything extremely uncouth with them, I expect them to last for quite a while.”

Rainbow Dash helped pull Twilight’s tail through a small opening at the end of her robes. “So will I be able to fly over there?” Dash asked. “This whole trip’s going to be a cramp in my style otherwise.”

“Flying is definitely useful,” Sehyia said. “You would be able to gain access to vantage points that would otherwise be inaccessible to us.”

“You will be clear to fly once we reach the Empire’s lands,” Artim said, entering with a pack full of scrolls on his back and shutting the door. “It is not advisable to do so as we travel through Kahir Pass. The winds above would tear you apart, so until I notify you otherwise, please remain grounded.”

Dash ignored his comment and giggled. “Dude, you really look like a mummy with your bandages and stuff, you know that? Like you just came out of a Daring Do novel or something!”

Artim rolled his eyes. “An unfortunate side effect of literally playing with fire, I’m afraid. Did you get my warning?”

“Yeah, don’t fly when we’re going through the pass. Easy enough.”

“I will have a contingent of royal guards stationed here in Ponyville to keep a watchful eye out for any further incursions,” Celestia said, helping Twilight pack several books into her saddlebags for her journey. “Stay safe, all of you. And be careful. I hope that you will all return safely when this is over.”

Pinkie Pie tightened the straps around Rainbow Dash’s boots with her mouth as Rarity helped to guide the pegasus’ wings through the allotted wingspace on the tunic, and then wrapping a protective layer of thick cloth over the torso area to give it some minor protection. Twilight dropped a pair of saddlebags on Fluttershy’s back, wings permitting, and pulled on her own hood as Celestia placed her own bags on her back.

“Wow! We look like a bunch of adventurers!” Pinkie said, tapping her hoof-boots together. “We should totally dress up like this on Nightmare Night! It would be a blast!”

“We are ready to go, then?” Kandro asked, putting on his own helmet after downing a quick gulp of water from a cup that Fluttershy had been handing out to the humans. “I don’t expect our journey through Kahir Pass to take long. It is what happens afterwards that I am worried about.”

“Several days is a long time to be away from home,” Fluttershy said soothingly. “I hope nothing bad happens while we’re there...”

“What are you going to do with the Elements of Harmony, anyway?” Twilight asked. “Do you know where we’ll be going?”

“At the moment, we return to Renascence, to see if the Elements cannot shine any more clues upon the location of the Trickster’s return. When we do locate him, we move to cut him off permanently, and in the best case scenario, kill him, and if not, seal him away,” Artim said, browsing through Twilight’s shelves of alphabetically-organized books. “You are very organized.”

Twilight beamed. “Thanks, I put in my best effort to make sure everything stays that way.”

“Sense anything around here, Artim?” Sehyia asked, helping Rarity carefully position her safari hat at the best position where it wouldn’t end up ruffling her mane. “Really, Rarity, if you treat your entire mane like this, then you’ll never find a perfect spot for your hat...”

“Nothing here,” Artim said, as Rarity simply sighed and just dropped the hat on her head.

“This hat is a tad bit too small, Sehyia,” Rarity lamented. “But none of my other ones will do! They’re either too small, too big, too conforming, too non-comforming, and none are as airy as this one is!”

“How about we look for one in the Empire once we get there?” Sehyia said. “I’m sure we can find a hat that can fit your needs there?”

“And a chance to view the Empire’s fashion and fabrics? Your offer has already been accepted,” Rarity said, putting a hoof to her thigh. “If they are anything like the tabards you wear, then I may just make a name for myself in Canterlot yet... to be the first to obtain such amazing cloth!”

“Then Paragon, Protector,” Kandro said with a nod to them, and looking over the Elements of Harmony and his companions. “We shall be going now.”

“Luna shall remain here on permanent watch, while I shall return to Canterlot to prepare Equestria to deal with this new threat, Prince Kandro,” Celestia said, smiling warmly at him. “Go with our blessings. And do not fail.”

Kandro made no effort to return her smile. “For all our sakes, I hope we do not.”

“Oooooooohhhhh, my,” Fluttershy nervously squeaked out, hugging close to Rarity as they began to enter the deeper depths of the Everfree Forest. “This... is... the farthest we’ve ever been in here...”

“I concur,” Rarity said quietly. “The moonlight isn’t even getting through the trees anymore. Where are we going?”

“This is the right path,” Reugas said. “Our fight with the wolves during our arrival provided ample directional orientation for me to find our path back. See, here, our footsteps from earlier...” He waved a torch around the base of his feet. “We made a trail for ourselves, so all that’s left is to follow it back...”

“Wow, this place is creepy...” Dash said. “It’s like we stepped into a whole new place or something... some place that’s even darker than the Everfree was, and I already thought that place was pretty dark at night. I can’t even see anything outside of the torches you guys are holding...”

“Even the Castle of the Royal Pony Sisters was nowhere near as dark as it is now...” Twilight noted. “Are we actually the first ponies to venture here? I don’t recall any books on this place, even in the Canterlot Royal Archives, and—”

“There it is!” Reugas shouted, pointing down the lane towards where the trees stopped and gave way to stone. “Now all that’s left is to make it back to Fort Kahir, and we can—stop.” He held up his hand and drew his bow, suddenly aware that his breath was fogging the air in front of his face. “Do you feel that...?”

“There’s... many of them,” Artim said, his hand glowing with purple energy as he directed his focus down the length of the canyon. “And they are all heading this way... wait, no! There’s seven now... six... four... two...” he trailed off, as the rumbling charge slowly made its way to their position. The group all drew their weapons and instinctively shrank away from the opening of the pass, forming a protective circle around the ponies as they waited.

“Oh... my... sweet... Celestia...” Fluttershy gasped out, cowering in terror behind Rainbow Dash. Twilight and Applejack stepped forth, the former with her horn glowing with energy, and the latter ready to deliver a solid buck to whatever got in their way.

The chaos beast, far larger than any they’d encountered so far as it easily stood at least two stories tall, lumbered out of the pass and trundled past their position without so much as a glance... until a gasp from Fluttershy managed to draw its attention. It slowly raised its hand to smash down into them...

A blur of shadows erupted from the pass and began encircling the creature. Working in tandem, the unidentified forms began shooting arrows into all its joints, forcing it to recoil in pain as a single member of their group leaped onto its back and climbed onto the back of its head, and hacked away at the base of its neck using his blade.

“They’re... humans?” Twilight whispered.

“Not just humans...” Reugas replied. “Rangers.”

The beast howled in pain, vainly trying to grasp the back of its neck as the ranger on it slashed deeper and deeper into its flesh, only for its grubby hands to grasp nothing when it finally reached him, as he’d deftly rolled over the bumbling fingers and landed directly onto its forehead. With a bellow, the beast fell over backwards as the ranger fired arrows into its eyes at point-blank range, unable to fend off the storm of arrows now flying into its body from all directions, and was dead before it even hit the ground.

WIth a crash that shook the ground, the beast took its last breath of Equestrian air, thwarted by the efforts of a five-man group of rangers. Or in Reugas’ eyes: rangers that had no reason to visit Equestria.

“Back, ranger,” he said, levelling his bow when one of his compatriots attempted to approach them. “State your name and business, by authority vested in me as a Pillar of the Obsidian Spire.”

“Ranger Reugas,” the hooded man replied. “I am Ranger Tyermos. Along with me here are my brothers, rangers all. We have come here to Equestria to find you on behalf of General Tiraen. When we encountered chaos beasts en route through Kahir Pass, we had assumed that Equestria had fallen, and doubled our efforts to find you as soon as possible. As you can see... our task had been accomplished far sooner than we had expected.”

“General Tiraen?” Kandro stepped forth, taking off his helmet and revealing his identity to the rangers. “What does he want with us?”

“We were sent to find the Pillars and, specifically, you, my liege. In your absence, the situation within the Empire has exploded: Tiraen has mustered forth the entirety of the legions, deploying full contingents as garrisons for major cities, and ordered triple patrols on every road from Fort Kahir to the capital. He now holds Fort Renot as his headquarters and requests that you return to him, with or without that which you sought out to find, immediately.”

Kandro took a moment to register the news. “...what happened, ranger?”

Tyermos paused, giving a hesitant glance to his comrades, to Kandro, and then to the ponies before responding. “It came quickly, my liege. A maelstrom has manifested itself above the skies of Renascence, appearing not less than a day ago. Shortly afterwards, reports of beast attacks on the northern and eastern fringes of imperial lands have increased tenfold, and sightings across farmlands and desert have become frighteningly common.”

“And of Renascence? How does it stand now?”

“Evacuated,” the ranger said. “Most of the population, or at least the ones we could save, were immediately ordered across the Roaring River to Fort Renot while the legions entered the city to combat the chaotic threat. The city is under siege, my lord. And it has been that way for the past day now.”

“What of the royal family? My father and mother?”

“Alive,” Tyermos confidently responded. “Captain Ghiraza has the entire Capital Spire locked down, and a whole company of royal guards defending the base of the steps. Divisions of soldiers are spread out across the city trying to purge the threat, but it is an endless task: they are innumerable. I had thought the talk to be just rumors... but it’s true, isn’t it, sire? That the Trickster is finally returning?”

Through their conversation, a fact soon made itself clear as the rangers behind Tyermos kept a close eye on the corpse of the chaos beast: it did not fade, burning away into wind like its lessers had. It was permanent... and perhaps a sign of the Trickster’s reawakening power.

“Not if we can still do something about it,” Reugas said, gesturing to the ponies behind him. “We have with us the bearers of the Elements of Harmony, the ancient artifacts used by the Paragon of the Sun and the Protector of the Night on the Trickster once before. It is our hope that in his weakened state, we can end this problem before it spirals out of control.”

“Then this is good news. General Tiraen will want to know of this immediately. Please, esteemed Pillars and prince, let us guide you back to Fort Kahir. Will there be need for us to deploy soldiers to the land of the ponies to help quell chaotic threats?”

“No, Equestria is faring just fine.” Kandro waved them forward, and the ponies let out their held sighs of relief, grateful that their numbers had been further bolstered. “The Paragon and Protector are still very much alive. They know of our mission, but cannot aid us. They must remain to protect the peace within their own lands.”

“Praise be their constant vigilance,” Tyermos said, reverence ingrained deep within his tone. “I suppose it was too much to expect... they have their own to look after. Rangers! Prepare to move out! Ensure that body is doubly dead before we move on... I’d rather not have any surprises sneaking up on us on our way back.”

As the rangers began retrieving what arrows they could from the beast’s corpse as well as checking with their swords to see if it still lived, the Pillars and the ponies silently moved to the pass, waiting for Kandro to return to them before proceeding on. Tyermos, however, had other plans, beckoning the prince away from earshot of the others and having them turn their backs to them before speaking.

“...what is it, Tyermos?”

“I apologize, my liege. But I was under strict orders from General Tiraen that this particular set of news reach your ears, and your ears only.”

“What is it?” Kandro asked, feeling his stomach sink.

Tyermos’ reaction could not be told from the mask and hood that he wore; only his eyes could be seen, and they told Kandro everything that he needed to know. “What I said earlier... was a lie: the royal family is not all intact. With my condolences, Prince Kandro: Emperor Nazhrus has passed away. He died shortly before the appearance of the maelstrom, and Tiraen believes that the two events are not entirely unrelated.”

Deathly silence followed afterwards, and Kandro clenched his fist, seeking explanation for the tragedy that had befallen him. Do not dwell on decisions made in the past, but do not fail to heed their wisdom. Use the knowledge gained to ensure a better outcome in the future. That was what his father had told him the first day he’d sat in on the Imperial Court debating water allocation for irrigation around Renascence.

Perhaps if he’d acted faster, pressed the urgency of the situation—no, that would not have done well. To press the ponies to leave their homes on such short notice was nothing short of stepping over the traditions of human hospitality and what he’d grown up knowing. No, his choice was made, and the ponies had already said their farewells and gathered the support they needed to make this journey.

“...my lord?” Tyermos inquired. “Are you alright?”

“I am fine, Tyermos, just... contemplating what had happened. If what you say is true... then this was inevitable. The Trickster held the life of my father in his hands... and he took it the moment he knew he could cement his foothold in this realm.” He took a deep breath, then turned to return to the waiting group, Tyermos catching up alongside him.

“Are you well, sire?” he asked worriedly. “If you require it, we can rest before we proceed any further—”

Kandro waved him off, taking the lead and directed the group into the pass. “Unneeded, ranger. My father has passed, and that means... that means that the mantle of leadership falls to me. We cannot fail, Tyermos. Our people need us now, more than ever... and the Trickster needs to be stopped. Once and for all.”

So decreed Prince Kandro, heir to the throne... now Emperor Kandro, ruler of the Renascent Empire.

The coronation ceremony would have to wait...

Author's Note

World-building, ahoy. Lots of it.

VI: Wartorn

C h a p t e r 6 :

W a r t o r n

Faith and fire.

Blood and steel.

Integrity and courage.

A shining hope during times of encroaching darkness.

We stand strong. We stand vigilant.

We guard mankind.

-Renascent Imperial Legion creed

“You speak of these Renascent years...” Twilight asked Artim. “So, what year is it now in the Empire?”

“As of right now... it is 1515 RY,” Artim said, looking up at the line of sunlight trailing above them as the weather stone walls of Fort Kahir began to take shape.

“Then... if the Renascent Empire hasn’t had contact with Equestria for so long, how come you can speak the modern Equestrian language?” she continued, quill and paper primed for his answer.

“Interesting question, really. Though we did not have any contact with Equestria itself, there were certain elements within that sought us out on their own. The one in particular who introduced us to the Equestrian language of today was a unicorn by the name of Star Swirl the Bearded.”

“Star Swirl?!” Twilight exclaimed. “But... but he never wrote anything about visiting the Empire before... and I’ve read almost everything that he’s written!”

Artim nodded. “The Empire went through much more turbulent times than now, though I believe that may soon be topped by our oncoming war. When he visited Renascence, the town’s entire economy nearly came to a stop because everyone wanted to see him, or so the story went. I do recall the tale told to new initiates at Lherren state that the information he was given was kept secret by Princess Celestia.”

Twilight’s face scrunched in confusion. “Secret? But the humans weren’t hostile towards Equestria at the time... why keep it hidden from the public eye?”

“That’s something you’d have to ask her yourself, I’d wager,” Artim said, knowingly meeting her eyes. Twilight felt conflicted; she’d never thought that Celestia would keep such important information hidden from her... even the maps of the known world kept in the Canterlot Royal Archives omitted the existence of the Empire; a most elaborate ruse.

“I’ll have to keep that in mind,” she determinedly noted to herself. “In any case, how did the Equestrian language catch on in the Empire?”

“Quite simple, really. Back then, and even now, our reverence for the Paragon and Protector was ingrained so heavily into our culture that when an actual pony showed up speaking our language, it was only fitting that we beseeched him to teach us his. And when it caught on, it caught on quick; the entire Equestrian language became standard teaching in all educational institutions within three years.”

“Wow, that’s really impressive for an entire language shift,” Twilight noted, scribbling down the fact in her notes. “And that’s how you all became familiar with our language?” Artim nodded at her question. “But how is that possible? Star Swirl would have most definitely been speaking Old Equestrian like Princess Luna did when she first returned. How come you can speak like... well, me?”

“We had contact with specific envoys sent by your princess up until two hundred years ago.” He mumbled to himself, counting off years in his head. “Yes, definitely two hundred years ago. The Equestrian dictionaries at Lherren stopped updating roughly around that time.”

“What happened two hundred years ago?”

“War,” Artim simply stated. “With the griffons.”

“Oh...”

“Wasn’t our first time, mind you. And it certainly won’t be our last. For their safety, we closed off our borders and Princess Celestia agreed to send no further emissaries. Since then, it’s been a deluge of problems raining down on our fair land. At this point, things will become hellishly worse before it gets better, if recent news has shown us anything.”

Twilight squinted at the dull brown walls obstructing their path ahead of them. “Is that Fort Kahir in the distance?”

“That it is,” Artim confirmed. “Sits right at the entrance to the pass. Quite effective security, if anything.” He looked to Kandro. “My liege, since we’ve not bothered discussing it yet... what is to be our first course of plan when we reach the fort?”

Kandro broke out of his stupor to look at Artim, surprised, before quickly collecting himself. “Hmm? Oh... we ride for Renascence immediately. I presume our sandrunners are still stabled within Kahir. We will use them.”

“A shame,” Artim said, returning his attention to Twiilght. “And here I had hoped to visit several settlements on the way to Renascence, or perhaps even stop at Lherren. All things in due time, I guess.”

“How long’s this trip supposed to take us, anyway?” Applejack asked, directing her question to Kandro as she caught up beside him.

“From Kahir to Renascence... better part of a day and a half. But we will not stop, so I assume our trip will take us only half a day to do so. I expect the legions to expedite our journey as best as they can,” Kandro replied, looking ahead to see Tyermos and his rangers leading the way with Reugas among them.

“Ugh, can’t I just go there ahead of you guys?” Dash whined. “I mean, I can fly once we get out of this pass, right? I’ll just meet you all there!”

“Rainbow, you don’t know where the city is,” Rarity pointed out. “And besides, it’s dangerous out there! You could get hurt or, dare I say, killed! We are better off being escorted by these fine warriors to ensure our protection and enjoy their company,” she ended.

“I’m fine with it!” Pinkie said, still sitting on Tehin’s shoulders since their journey began. “Big T here has been telling me all sorts of stories about his home, and, boy, do I want to try out some of their drinks and food! Especially this whole wine-infused pastries! I really want some of that!”

“You will absolutely love the prairie berry fruit tarts, Pinkie,” Tehin mentioned.

“Prairie berry fruit tarts?!” she exclaimed. “Oh, my good golly gosh, just the name just makes me want to eat a whole bunch of it!” Her smile diminished as she grew serious. “That is, of course, after we save your land and all that. Can’t forget priorities!”

“Are there... any animals in the Empire?” Fluttershy asked, trailing behind Tehin and Pinkie.

“Oh, plenty of them,” Artim said. “We have all sorts of native wildlife, although I’m afraid to say that a good deal of them are not friendly. We have predators like lions and cheetahs, herbivores like antelopes and giraffes. We also have bovines, though they’re not the same as they were in Equestria. Ours are more... empty-headed than yours.”

“Empty-headed? How so—” Twilight asked, but was cut off abruptly by Artim’s terse response.

“They can’t think. Not in the way that you and I can. We are an omnivorous species, Twilight; we cannot be picky about our food in a land whose bounties steadily dwindle as the years go by, and so this food source is as viable as any other... and besides, I’m sure you are all well aware of the griffons’ dining habits by now. Ours mirror theirs, if not with a larger focus on non-meat sustenance than they do.”

“Ah, I see,” she noted, marking it down. “Humans are omnivorous, then... I’m sure history will have to come later. Not that I mind, of course, I just find it easier to digest through books.”

“I can agree with that,” Artim said, stopping with her as the entire group approached the gates of Fort Kahir.

“Who goes there?” a sentry shouted.

“Ranger Tyermos, under orders from General Tiraen.” He gestured to the group gathered around him. “I return with the prince and company in hand, along with aid granted to us by the Paragon. Let us in.”

“Ah! Welcome back, ranger. Much has happened since your departure. Open the gates!”

Tyermos looked at Kandro, who in turn returned his gaze. “Tiraen has been waging this war for the past several days, and almost half of the Legion was called to arms on short notice, ordered to rally at major cities and stem outwards to aid towns and smaller settlements.”

“But it is the Legion,” Kandro said. “Our numbers are certainly vast. Do you not believe they can hold the line?”

“Against an enemy that can strike from anywhere, my lord?” Tyermos said, shrugging as the gates behind him finished opening. “It is hard to hold a line when you do not even know where it is. Now then, enter. Our mission is finished, and my rangers and I will certainly be needed elsewhere. Ancestors and the First watch over you, Prince Kandro.”

“And they to you, ranger,” Kandro said, nodding to Tyermos as the ranger ordered his men to regroup for immediate departure. “Best of luck to us all.”

“Things grow worse, sire. We’re going to need more than luck to get us out of this mess,” Tyermos said, throwing a look over his shoulder before walking off.

“Commander, it’s good to see you again,” Kandro said, shaking hands with Kahir’s garrison commander inside the war room on the top-most floor of the keep.

“And an honor to have you here again, my liege.” he said, looking out the window as Tyermos and his rangers departed Fort Kahir due west, traveling further into the Empire to aid in their war efforts. “What a horrid state things have become. The Eastern Legion has taken up residence within Talon’s Reach, and the fighting has been going on non-stop since nightfall fell three days ago. And then the maelstrom yesterday...”

“If only I were notified sooner...” Kandro said, clenching his fist. “I could have rallied a defense and perhaps retaliated against the beasts, and push them back.”

“That would not have been possible, sire.” The commander rubbed the tuft of his beard. “As I am sure you are aware of, the nature of chaotic beasts prevents them from spawning in any one location. They...” His lips curled into a unknowing frown, and he shook his head. “...seemed to appear out of nowhere, and in numbers far too great for any militia or city guard contingent to deal with.”

“A thousand...?” Kandro muttered, feeling his face grow hot as his blood boiled. If he had been around, he could have rallied a search effort... his own combat capabilities equaled at least, three, if not four, soldiers, and would have given his search parties a greater edge in deterring threats as the civilians evacuated.

“It’s not your fault, sire,” the commander merely said, in an attempt to assuage his worries. “You had greater things to worry about with the trip beyond Kahir Pass. None of us could have foreseen what was about to happen... and we would have all been worse off had you been caught within Renascence as the clouds fell upon it.”

“I know,” Kandro said. “But it does not make me feel any better for it.”

“I see you’ve brought new company back with you,” the commander digressed, looking over Kandro’s shoulder at the ponies standing behind the Pillars. “Soldiers?”

“No... not soldiers, unfortunately. They are the bearers of the ancient artifacts that the Paragon used to weaken the Trickster before. It is in our hopes that they can be used once again to defeat the Trickster before he returns to full power.”

“A wise course of action,” the commander approved. “Fort Renot is still sending out orders and reports via messengers, so the Crown Legion still holds fast. I have your sandrunners as well as those of the Pillars’ ready to leave on a moment’s notice.”

“What news have you heard of my father?” Kandro asked him.

The commander stopped, looking torn as he opened his mouth several times but found no words. Kandro watched him as the ponies and Pillars watched him in turn, waiting for a response. “He is... dead... my liege...” the commander slowly said. “But I am sure Tyermos brought this news to you. His death was... peaceful, but the whispers are all ablaze saying that the Trickster somehow used your father as a catalyst for his return.”

“Then I will make the Trickster regret that decision,” Kandro said curtly, turning around and storming out of the room as his entourage quickly followed. Applejack quickly pushed forward past the group, marching down the stairs and catching up to Kandro as he treaded across the courtyard.

“Uh, you alright, sugarcube?” Applejack quietly asked.

“I am fine. I simply required a reaffirmation of my motives before casting my decision to stone.” He led them to the stables, where his sandrunner happily squawked at him as he unhitched it from its post. “My father was a strong and happy man. It pains me to know that he died like a feeble candle’s flame blown out in the dark. He still had many years ahead of him.”

“Losin’ family is tough, I know that,” Applejack said. “I’ve been through that myself. If you ever need someone to talk to... I’ll be here.”

“I appreciate your offer, and I will keep it in my thoughts,” he said. For so much to happen within the span of several days... at another time, it would have been unthinkable. But now he was here, staring into the jaws of calamity with nothing short of the fate of the world resting on his shoulders. A lone prince and his empire, standing off against an ancient foe; a foe that rare few still living on this world could comprehend fighting against. And it was a foe that his people have long since held a vendetta against.

Failure was not an option.

That was, to him and his kin. To the ponies... what true stake did they have in all of this, for him to seek them out? That they held six magical stones that somehow held the ability to hold back the teeming hordes of darkness, chaos, and death? With such high stakes, doubts that it would succeed, especially after changing hands from Paragon and Protector to lowly ponies, were brought to the fore of his mind. So a final act of mercy had to be offered to calm his mind.

He took a deep breath, signaling them all to stop as he looked into the eyes of each of the ponies before starting. “This is the end of the line for you, ponies. It is no surprise that during end times, the thing one wishes for most is to be with family and true friends. There are none here, save for the other ponies standing beside you, for you are delving into a land of strangers and deadly beasts, all of whom fight for their bid to bring about their desired outcome of this war.

“You are not warriors, and I know that. As gallant and brave you may be, you have not proven your mettle against a foe who does not wish to harm you, but to kill you, to end your life in this realm of the living and weave your tale of glory into one of tragedy. I would never dare to subject any being—human, pony, griffon, or otherwise—to this horribly grim task. So I simply offer you this choice, after having contemplated sending six good ponies to their deaths: you may return now, with an escort under my orders, back to Equestria, or you may stay here and aid us in our mission.

“But know that if you stay here, there is no going back, not until either we are victorious... or we are all defeated—nay, killed. There is no defeat in a war like this, a total war to which we commit all our resources, our hopes and dreams, our people, our very survival into. You may wonder why I have voiced this offer: it is because you may find yourself at a point in this war where there will be no one to defend you or come to your aid. It is in that time that will determine whether you live or die, to rise above your limits and do what must be done, or to lose hope in that last moment and wish dearly that you were anywhere but here.

“I don’t believe any of you have ever been in such a situation before, and therefore, I cannot, in good faith, fully expect you to act the former. That is why our mission holds such great risk, for all of us involved. The Elements cannot function without a single one of you. Should one of you fall, we cannot rebound from such a loss and we must carry on without the Elements, except now we have now sacrificed a willing life and brought sadness upon those who did not have to be here. A focused goal quickly falls apart, and we are forced to rely upon fighting against the enemy in the only way we know how.

“It may have become obvious at this point what I am asking you to do: to perform the act of taking a life—to kill something, of your own volition without hesitation or clouded mind—when the situation demands it. This is a harrowing experience for any who encounter it, especially for those uninitiated in the fires of battle. Should you decide to aid us, you must be prepared to kill to protect us—we who protect you—and your friends.

“This is not a choice to make lightly. From what I understand from your reputations in Equestria, the threat of defeat was always there, but never death, for there were always situations where you could outwit the opposition. There will be no such occasions here. Chaos beasts are not fools, nor are they privy to falling prey to tricks like children, and the Trickster’s more elite servants will see joy in toying with you.

“I will give you time to speak amongst yourselves. Until then, we shall prepare for our journey.” He turned away, going back to checking his sandrunner’s saddle and straps as the ponies walked off aways, discussing things with no hidden anxiety in their tones.

“Expressing doubt?” Artim said, putting a hand on his shoulder as he looked at the ponies. “I think anyone would have been terrified to be told that their next choice made after such a casual entrance would be life or death. Truth be told, it certainly didn’t feel much like that way to me, either, but you’re quite the persuading speaker.”

“No untruths here, Artim,” Kandro said grimly. “They need to know what it is exactly that they’re getting into. Just look at them; do you think any of them have ever witnessed the sight of blood before? The ponies seem to have built themselves a very complacent life, one where the strife of war is never just over the horizon. They may not react favorably when the first sight of blood may possibly be their own. Curse my lack of foresight: I should have done this before we ever left Equestria.”

Artim nodded, walking over to his own sandrunner and patting it on the side, before climbing on and bringing it out of the stable. He smirked at Kandro as he pulled up in front of him. “You didn’t really have to scare them that badly, though now I feel as if you’re pressuring them into this choice. End of the world and all that if we fail...” He chuckled. “That’s a hard selling point if I’ve ever seen one.”

The other Pillars all stopped in their activities as the ponies returned to them, again standing together as a group. Twilight stepped forward first, but faltered as she simply stared at Kandro for several tense minutes before finally gaining the courage to speak. “P-Prince Kandro... I would... first like to preface my statement by saying that I completely understand your concerns about us... getting hurt here, but we’re not foals. We can take care of ourselves.”

“I know...” Kandro said, rubbing the back of his head. “But I wanted to make it clear to you all what it is we’re dealing with here.”

“I’ve never fought, yes, or at least not in the way that you all have,” Twilight said. “But it’s as you put it: the world is going to end if we don’t help. Princess Celestia seems to have good faith in you humans if she’s willing to send us away to do this. My brother is a captain of the Equestrian Royal Guard, and I know he’d be proud of me for helping you all stop a major threat to the world... and I really want to see the libraries at Lherren and learn about everything there is to know about the Empire. So, knowing that, I won’t let you do this alone. I stand with you.”

“Pursuit of knowledge is always admirable,” Artim interjected cheerily.

Twilight stepped back into their group as Rarity came forth, dramatically waving her mane around as she gave the most exaggerated intake of air before loudly sighing, and sharply turning her gaze to Kandro. “My dearest prince, I am no fool when it comes to danger, having been abducted once myself and forced to worked in mines whose conditions I dare not mention. There always was that underlying danger, that tense flip of a coin, where things could have gone horribly, horribly wrong. I thank Celestia it did not. But it was a moment where I could understand what you spoke of: to do what must be done to protect our loved ones.”

She sighed again before continuing. “The thought of such a land full of interesting people, all with their own dazzling fashion styles and beautiful fabrics, to fall to such an evil that holds malice towards all that we know and love dearly does not sit well with me. I will do everything within my power to aid your cause as best as I can.”

Fluttershy was next, nervously glancing between Kandro and the ground before speaking up in her soft-spoken voice. “I... um, I don’t have much to say. The poor animals and creatures here are defenseless against the monsters, and the people of the Empire are also going to be suffering through these times of darkness... I want them to know that there are others out there that care about them, and want to help.” Her gaze hardened and she mustered her bravest look. “So I’m staying here to help, to help everyone I can!”

“She does have medical training,” Rarity pointed out, giving a pointed look at the saddlebags marked with a small red cross on her sides.

“Oh! Yes, I’m also trained in medical aid,” she confirmed, “but that’s mostly for ponies and animals... I’m not really sure how well I can work with humans... but I’ll try my best.”

“Oooh, great speech!” Pinkie Pie complimented, as she hopped forward, jumping around Fluttershy in a loop before landing in front of Kandro. “Prince Kandro! As the Element of Laughter, I feel that I should spread all the happiness and joy this world has to offer to everypony I come across, and this is no different! I get that you totally have a meany-weany totally trying to cause some serious problems for your people, and now everybody’s all sad and mopey. And this Trickster is trying to end everything! Do you realize just how boring things would be if there were no more parties?!” She collected herself before continuing. “So, that’s why I’m totally with you guys. If those monsters really want to take a bite out of us, then they’ll have to deal with my party cannon first. Or rather... just a cannon now, actually.”

“You have a cannon?” Tehin asked. “But we did not bring one with us...”

“Yepperoni! See, right... here!” she exclaimed, reaching her hooves behind her and pulling the party cannon out of thin air and smashing it into the ground in front of her. “I present to you: the party cannon!”

“How did she...?” Artim asked, looking at the ponies as Twilight shook her head.

“Don’t bother trying to figure it out,” she said. “Even I couldn’t learn how Pinkie’s able to do all of that stuff, and it nearly drove me mad in the process of doing so. Trust me, you’re better off just chalking it up to Pinkie being Pinkie.”

“Hmm, can she pull out anything from thin air?” Reugas asked. “I think I’d like a drink of wine right about now.”

“Totally!” She dug her hooves into the empty space behind her, deliberately stuffing her hooves into her puffy tail before withdrawing a red bottle of Equestrian wine, and tossed to Reugas. “There you go!”

“Haha, excellent!” he said, uncorking the bottle and was about to chug it when the bottom half of the bottle, complete with the vessel’s entire contents of liquid, fell to the ground and spilled across the sand floor. The sound of a blade being sheathed was heard as they watched Yhimit’s hand slip from his sword’s handle back to its passive position.

“Looks like someone doesn’t approve of your drinking habits,” Sehyia joked.

“Now’s not the time for it, anyways...” Tehin said, frowning at Reugas, who merely shrugged and stared sadly at the drying puddle at his feet.

“How... did he...?” Twilight asked. “I didn’t even see the sword at all!”

“Combat magic,” Artim said. “Enhances reflexes and strength to levels that would normally be unobtainable through regular training and physical exercise. Ostensibly restricted to magic users, and is the reason why Pillars of the Obsidian Spire are usually chosen from such already elite ranks.”

“Ah, speaking of the Spire, will we be visiting that, too?”

“Highly doubtful,” Reugas said. “It sits far west of the capital in the canyons next to Kradrin, and I highly doubt we will have much reason to go there.”

“Don’t worry! After we all save the world and stuff, there’ll be plenty of time to go sight-seeing!” Pinkie said, rearing up to her hind hooves and pulling the cannon with her as she stepped back into the group of mares. “Okay, Dashie, your turn!” she whispered into the pegasus’ ear.

With a small nudge, Pinkie moved her forward, putting the pegasus in front of Kandro, who awaited her affirmation to stay the course. “Well... in pegasus history, there were always great tales of those who fought in the name of Equestria, like Commander Hurricane, or Latyia Starseeker. They were ponies who would do everything it took to ensure the protection of Equestria and its citizens, and I feel that I should uphold that tradition by helping you guys kick some serious flank here in the Empire.

“Now, don’t get me wrong: I’m not trying to be... uh, shoot, what was the word for it...? Uh, reckless, yeah, that’ll do—reckless and rush straight to my death. I might try a little bit too hard at times, but I won’t just stand by and watch when you guys fight. I want to help; I know the risks, but I want to be useful. I can fly, and I’m pretty sure that counts for something. So don’t count me out when things get tough, because I’d never abandon my friends, or ponies, or you guys, or anyone fighting against this evil chaos dude. I’m sticking with you.”

“Wings are nice,” Reugas said, nodding in agreement with Dash’s speech. “Can you use a bow? It would be nice if you could fly up high and rain down arrows on our enemies.”

“Wouldn’t be surprised if they had winged combatants; the tales certainly told us of such,” Artim said. “Don’t get your hopes up just yet.”

He shrugged with a half-hearted nod. “Ah, right. Well, you can fly. You would be fantastic as a scout.”’

“That, I can do,” Dash said, smiling. “That just leaves you now, AJ.”

Applejack nodded, solemnly stepping forth and shuffling around on her hooves. “...I can’t rightly say that I know for sure what we’ll all be gettin’ into. And I sure as hay can’t say that I can stand up to one of those monsters if I ever have to go hoof-to-hoof with one... but I sure as hay can give ‘im a bloody knee or two before lettin’ the real warriors take over. T’ain’t right just lettin’ folks like you go ‘bout this on your own, especially not when things are startin’ to get outta control and everypony will be dealin’ with this within the week’s end.

“And that’s where I put my hoof down: Your Excellency, you’re dealin’ with the loss of family. I’ve been there, and I know that; my ma and pa died when I was still a filly, and it still pains me to know that I never got to know them as much as my brother did when we grew up. I should count my lucky stars that I didn’t end up gettin’ sent off to save the world as soon as they passed away. But you?” She scoffed and shook her head. “I ain’t lettin’ you do this alone. I’ll see this through to the end, for better or for worse, and I can’t imagine havin’ any better group of ponies beside me.”

All the Elements murmured in agreement before joining Applejack, who merely smiled at Kandro with her honest smile; he couldn’t help but smile back in turn as the ponies all clumped around him, standing on their rear hooves to embrace him in a hug.

“Aww...” Sehyia said, covering her mouth to hide her widening smile.

“Oh, gods...” Reugas said, barely able to stifle his broken laughs.

“We’re in this together!” Rainbow Dash said.

“Yeah!” Pinkie shouted, a small explosion of confetti and streamers mysteriously blowing out from her mane. “Let’s go save the world, everypony!”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” Kandro said, hugging them tighter, and looked to the Pillars with renewed motivation. “We ride for Talon’s Reach.”

“Of course, sire,” Artim said. “How will we divide the ponies?”

“Twilight goes with you, Pinkie to Tehin, Rarity to Sehyia, Rainbow Dash to Reugas, Fluttershy to Yhimit. Applejack will be coming with me,” he said as they all dispersed, embarking upon each of the sandrunners as Kandro helped Applejack onto the back of his before climbing onboard himself. “Now then... let’s ride!”

The dusty road leading to Talon’s Reach was covered with soldiers on patrol every step of the way, all either giving amazed looks at their passengers, or otherwise saluting when they realized that it was Prince Kandro who led their group towards the city. Several sandrunner groups on the fringe of the roads quickly readjusted their patrols to ride with them on the flanks, guiding them towards the city.

Unfortunately, the city was not their destination. As the current headquarters of the Eastern Legion, the city was well-fortified, and there was a great lack of actual strife and combat around the city’s outlying territories. The Crown, Northern, and Southern Legions were most likely the most hard-hit due to their proximities to the capital, and the Western Legion had to remain within the savannahs and canyons to protect the scattered cities and settlements in their region, Kradrin among them.

“These things can run pretty fast!” Applejack shouted, clinging onto her hat with her free hoof as she had her other wrapped around Kandro’s torso as they approached the walls of Talon’s Reach.

“No better way to get around the Empire!” he shouted back to her, cracking the reins as they passed a checkpoint and veered right, embarking on the northward road that would lead them to Renascence. “They’ve been a mainstay of our lands for generations!”

They broke over a small hill and continued on, taking in the full breadth of their view from the northern side of Talon’s Reach: farmlands as far as the eye could see, small lines of irrigation sectioning the fields as a multitude of roads continued beyond, leading to the mountains that the Empire shared with the Griffon Kingdom.

“Are those the mountains that take you to griffon lands?” she asked.

“Yes!” Kandro said, pointing as a small gap in the mountain line. “Fort Sibhim is located there, and serves as the gateway further north! No reason for us to use it, though!”

“Lots of farmland ‘round here!” she continued, staring in awe at the acres of farmland situated around them. Not even Equestria largest farms could compare to the operation that the Empire had running here.

“Don’t get too used to it!” he said, cracking the rein as the sandrunner’s speed increased. “Between here and the next city, there’s nothing but desert! I’d suggest using that hood of yours, otherwise it’ll catch in your mane and ears!”

Applejack nodded, stowing away her hat in her saddlebags and pulling the dark red cloth of her hood over her head. It felt scratchy, but Applejack put it behind her; it was probably the best Rarity could come up with on such short notice, and she was never one to ignore what was needed. It would last.

Just then, a small rumble seemed to shake the world itself, starting out low but growing ever more disconcerting as birds seemed to take off by the flock from the fields. Soldiers standing about began to organize into groups, grabbing their swords and shields for an impending attack.

“What’s going on?!” Applejack asked.

“We’re about to come under attack, obviously,” Kandro stated, drawing his sword as he continued to guide his sandrunner. “From where... we shall see.”

Swords and shields made way for bows and arrows as archers along their road fired into the skies; the clouds steadily grew black and the skies reddened as a quick flash of lightning and a roaring thunder seemed to split the heavens themselves. Bloodthirsty screeches from behind Kandro put his hair on end.

“Winged demons!” he heard Reugas shout, just as the first demon was felled. The creature gave a final roar of defiance before smashing into the ground in front of Kandro’s path, but his sandrunner deftly hopped over it, dodging the arrows closing in to pelt the demon.

“The sky...” Applejack said, her mouth agape as her eyes remained fixated above.

“Like the old times,” Kandro said grimly, before another flash of lightning passed by their eyes and returned the sky to its normal blue state. “The bleeding of the Trickster’s realm into our own... ‘skies that seemed like an endless ocean of blood and sinister clouds that only forbade the darkness of the coming days’.”

“And all those birds up in the skies...” she pointed out.

Kandro watched as his sandrunner growled and looked up into the sky, and he frowned. “Those aren’t birds,” he said, looking up himself as the blots steadily grew larger. “Those are all demons!”

“You don’t say, milord?!” Reugas said, riding up alongside him as Rainbow Dash held onto him for dear life, eyes clenched shut. “See, I told you there’d be winged ones! I hope the archers are up to par, because they’re going to need all of their training for this one! These assholes might just plague us all the way from here to Renascence!’

Kandro had to do a double take as they passed by an intersection as groups of people, all clinging to their belongings frightfully their way south to the city. The surprise attack had left more than a few settlements unprepared; chaos was going to fall upon them and there were still people out there that needed to be saved.

“I thought the civilians were all evacuated?!” he shouted at Reugas.

“We aren’t gods, sire! Our legions can only work so fast!” He fired an arrow into the sky, hitting the chest of a demon as it began to spiral downwards into a field of wheat. Archers hid behind stone walls and fired as their shield-bearing brethren guarded them from sweeping dives by the demons.

Kandro found himself the target of several such dives. The beasts descended from the skies faster than he could react, but his sandrunner instinctively dodged, weaving its way through the crowd as it protected its riders from harm. The breathing space also meant that Kandro could retaliate now, and he did so with gusto.

Riding combat was never really one of his strong suits, and such a fact was applicable to his entire group save for Reugas and Artim, who had the advantage of engaging at range. The most Kandro could do was jab at the air in small strokes in hopes of achieving a glancing blow on the creatures’ legs. Martialswords did not have a doctrine for fighting against winged creatures, unfortunately.

They passed the northwestern tower of Talon’s Reach, as their escort began to break off. Kandro frowned: most likely stuck with orders to remain near the city, no doubt, but he expected that there would be more soldiers out west as they exited the farmlands and entered the scorching desert that made up a great deal of the Empire’s lands.

And right he was. Legion soldiers continued to be present as they continued westward, as plant life began to dwindle to nothing. Most were already on alert after the sky’s strange behavior, and did not waste time acknowledging Kandro’s group as they were far too busy dealing with the threats themselves.

Several of them died in rather gruesome fashion as the odd checkpoint became overrun by the beasts, tossing the unlucky soldiers into the skies or simply tearing them apart on the ground. That was in the case where they’d arrived at the checkpoint too late, elsewise Reugas and Artim showed no restraint in felling the beasts by the dozens from the skies through arrow and lightning energies.

And from Talon’s Reach, there were at least six other cities they had to pass through or by on their way to Renascence. With the Crown Legion headquartered at Fort Renot and the Eastern Legion at Talon’s Reach, the Legion presence would be nowhere near as great at these cities compared to the major population centers.

“Reugas!” he shouted over his shoulder. “How many arrows do you have?”

“Not enough!” Reugas responded. “I’ve burnt through most of a quiver already and we’ve not even reached the next city yet!” He fired a trio of arrows into the air, all three finding purchase inside the chest cavity of another demon. “I expect to be dry by the time we reach Tandreat!”

Kandro knew of Tandreat well: its more common name was the City of Hope, known for its shrines dedicated to the Paragon and Protector and known in history for being the home of many refugees during the Trickster Conflict. Later generations of those refugees still lived there today, enforcing a more stringent training regimen for their city guard compared to others. After the events of the past, they were not willing to rely on the Legion for their protection.

And it was situated halfway between Renascence and Talon’s Reach, no less. Kandro had merely been to the city several times when he was a boy, mostly traveling as an apprentice to a Lherren scholar when he was still learning how to control his own magic. The City of Hope and Lherren were sister cities, both founded in the aftermath of the Trickster’s defeat before Renascence was constructed.

“Then we’ll make a stop there! If our journey is delayed, it will be the safest haven we can manage!” he told Reugas.

“I approve, milord! It’s easier to sleep soundly with the city’s damned warrior-monks standing on guard!” Reugas said before checking on Rainbow Dash to find that her terror phase had passed. He whispered something to her and she nodded, and he returned his attention to the reins.

Artim came up on Kandro’s left, waving at the prince to get his attention. “My liege! I propose a plan to keep these creatures off of our backs!”

“What do you have in mind, Artim?”

“Twilight says she can cast a shield to physically deflect their advances upon us!” Artim said, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder at the unicorn sitting behind him. “She claims that her brother has done it before, so she sees no reason why she cannot do it here and now!”

Kandro looked at Twilight. “Have you done this before, Twilight?”

“No, I haven’t! But I can try!” she said.

“You aren’t your brother! I will let you try, but if you cannot sustain doing so, you must let Artim know!” Kandro said, wary of putting Twilight at risk. He’d never seen any show of her magic other than the teleportation she’d done for them. For all he knew, shields could be more magically consuming than any other spell there was.

Twilight nodded as her horn, protruding out of the hood she wore, began to glow. “I’ll try my best!”

“Now, I’m curious: do you mean to put up a shield during our entire journey?” he asked her.

“Nope! I’m simply going to calculate when one of them is going to strike! Taking their speed of descent into account, I can accurately predict when they will reach us and conjure up a shield wall to block their approach! It’s much less energy intensive this way, and I can cast multiple shields at the same time!”

“Interesting,” he said, watching as Tehin rode ahead of them and clubbed a demon out of his way as if it were nothing but a fly. “And how effective are you at focusing on multiple targets?”

She smiled at him. “I’m Twilight Sparkle, personal student of Princess Celestia... and one of the smartest and most organized mares around! I think I can manage,” she said confidently.

“That’s great—because there’s a whole bunch coming for us right now,” Artim said, pointing ahead of them. Over the obscuration of the blowing sands, several flapping figures could be seen quickly approaching them. “Think fast, Twilight!”

“Eh?!” Twilight gasped, stuttering out incomplete responses before she refocused herself. Her eyes stared forward as the air in the path of the demons began to shimmer. Her horn began to glow brighter, and the creatures grew closer, until...

“What the—?!” Reugas shouted, staring in incredulity as his arrow bounced off of a glowing purple square in front of him. “What is this?!”

“It’s Twilight’s magic!” Dash said. “I’ll bet you can’t conjure a shield out of thin air like that! You go, Twilight!” She whooped and cheered as Applejack laughed.

“What does your detection sense tell you, Artim?!” Kandro asked, curious as to whether the incursion was intentional.

“Good point, milord! I shall see...” He closed his eyes for a moment, searching into that torrent of magical energies and feeling the ebb of chaos slowly appearing before his mind. It was him, surrounded by a sea of riotous essences all scrambling for a single objective: them. Yet no other signatures could be felt beyond that sea.

The hum and pings of demons bouncing off of Twilight’s shields were quickly phased out of his mind as he delved in further. Perhaps it was simply the limited range of his senses, but... that was it. There truly was nothing out there. A circle of chaos had dropped itself upon them and sought to harass them at every opportunity on their journey.

This was no random event.

Artim opened his eyes and returned to the fold, turning to Kandro and shaking his head. “This was not just another simple occurrence, my liege!” he shouted back to him. “All these beasts are following us!”

“What?!” Kandro shouted. “All of them?!”

“Yes, sire! I say nothing but the plain truth: there is a funnel of chaos energies bleeding through the sky, and it’s focused entirely on us! Wherever we go, these beasts will follow, yet they will only appear around us!”

“You mean to say that we are endangering lives simply by being around them?!” Kandro asked, as Applejack tapped his shoulder and pointed forward. “What is it, Applejack?!”

“City!” she said, pointing ahead of them.

“Damn!” Kandro said, realizing that the settlement was already burning, no Legion soldiers in sight. “We will have to ignore this one. Keep moving!”

“Where are the soldiers?!” Sehyia echoed as they neared the city gates.

Their question was quickly answered when they saw a small mass of beasts attempting to reach the gates, only to be pushed back with a push of steel and a swift jab of spears into their unprotected abdomens. Grunts of confirmation and the shouts of soldiers could be heard from within as the familiar sight of archers on the walls became apparent, raining down arrows onto their foes.

“Looks like they’ve managed to get everyone inside!” Kandro said. He pointed his sword at Artim and nodded towards the beasts. “Can you do anything to help them?!”

“Nothing that they can’t already do, milord!” Artim said. “They will do fine on their own!”

Kandro nodded as they continued off to the left, averting their route from the main gates and taking the road that led along the south sides of the walls. How many men had the soldiers here already lost? How many did they have left? Could they weather another assault? What if their passage by the city would only make problems worse when the demons fell upon them? Would they be able to hold out any longer?

He dearly wished that they had the capacity to travel through the desert straight for Renascence instead of traveling on the roads, but to do so was suicide. Reugas was a fine tracker, but uncharted treks through desert took time and supplies that they did not have. If the land were still green, it would have been manageable...

“Tandreat is still further aways,” Artim said, zapping a beast that had dodged Twilight’s shield with a crackle of electricity from his hands. “Let us hope its walls still stand when we arrive...”

“Twilight, careful now,” Artim cautioned, helping Twilight off of the sandrunner as he ignited a small scrap of weeds in an attempt to get a better look at her face. “How do you feel?”

“I feel... just fine...” she said, her eyes slowly following the wisp of flame as Artim moved his hand. “Never... felt... better...” She leaned against the side of the sitting sandrunner and flopped to the ground, before closing her eyes and softly snoring against it.

“She’s completely out of it,” he said, tossing the makeshift light to the dirt and stamping it out with his boot. “Best to let her get her rest now, with all she’s done. Right, Reugas?”

“I missed that shot on purpose,” the ranger begrudgingly admitted. Performance in combat was never guaranteed, and Twilight’s shields had been his only line of defense otherwise he would have had a faceful of talons instead.

“Should we make a fire?” Sehyia asked, sighing and rolling her eyes when Rarity started to worry over her mussed mane. “It seems like the demons have backed off...”

“For now,” Reugas said, staring into the darkening skies. “They’re keeping their distance, and I don’t know why. That bothers me.” The sight of the moon was faint, an almost distant glow in place of the strange purple miasma that now stretched across the skies. “No fire. If we’ve lost them, I don’t want to give our position away.”

“That is not natural,” Tehin commented, dropping his staff on the ground next to his resting sandrunner. “Though I cannot say that it does not look nice. But to supersede the beauty of the moon and its sudden appearance now...” He shook his head. “Bad omens.”

Pinkie hummed to herself, trussing up her travel garb before hopping off. Her hood was no match against her poofy pink mane, and so she had chosen to leave it down... and yet there wasn’t even the smallest bit of sand in it. “Ooh, that’s pretty! Kind of like those pretty lights that we saw in the sky when we visited the Crystal Empire that one time!”

“Crystal Empire?” Kandro asked aloud, arching a brow at Applejack.

She waved her hoof at him. “Long story. Pretty sure Twilight can probably explain it better than I can, bein’ the one who found all them secrets, anyhow.” Rainbow Dash accosted her shortly after, sitting down next to her and discussing what had happened so far.

“More to this world then I originally thought...” Kandro said to no one in particular. Withdrawing several dried meats from his sandrunner’s pack, he tossed them to the mount as it eagerly munched down upon them. He gathered his canteen and took the first sip of water he’d had since the beginning of the day, glad to have the refreshing liquid pouring past his lips and nourishing his body.

They were on the last stretch of road leading to Tandreat, far from any known civilization and were simply sitting off to the edge of the road. Cause for the delay was from Twilight herself, who began to voice her concern shortly after they’d defended a squad of archers from their untimely deaths. It certainly didn’t help that the sun was beginning to set, and it was almost pitch-black and the moon’s light was not available to guide their way.

Darkness fell upon them and the roads would be hard to follow. Fortune—or bad luck—visited upon them saw the beasts disappearing as they continued on, until none lingered in the skies any longer. He finished off the canteen and let out a content sigh, moving to check on their supplies only to be stopped by Sehyia.

“Something wrong, Sehyia?” he asked, pulling out some flatbread and biting into it.

“Should we not keep moving?” she asked quietly, stepping next to him and turning him away from the rest of the group. “We should find shelter before it’s too late.”

“We are not in any clear and present danger at the moment,” he said. “Our sandrunners have been traveling for the better part of a day now, and I’m sure we’re all saddle-sore at this point. Tandreat lies beyond a small set of dunes that would be foolish for us to traverse with this visibility. We must wait until tomorrow.”

Her lips curled into a frown, and she sighed. “I wish we could make this faster... what will we do if the demons return? We are stationary and exposed. The most we could do is bring the fight to the skies, which we can easily do, but that would leave the ponies vulnerable on the ground.”

“Reugas and Artim can remain grounded while the remainder fight off the attackers. At most, we can inflict losses upon them and give them reason to reconsider attacking us... and perhaps then we will have time to rest. The moment the sun’s light breaks over the horizon tomorrow, we will continue.”

“They’re all gone,” Reugas called back to them. “Not a single trace of them in the skies. Unless they’ve all somehow turned invisible, I don’t think we’ll be seeing any more of them for a while, and I’m not detecting any signs of their presence. Tehin, start up a fire. I’d rather not end our quest prematurely by freezing to death in a desert.”

Tehin acknowledged Reugas’ order, simply reaching into his gargantuan travel pack and withdrawing a clumping of firewood tied together with rope and some kindling, assorting them into a campfire on solid sand. Standing back staring at the unassuming gathering of wood, Artim flicked his wrist and lit it on fire, bringing about the warming presence of fire to combat the lowering temperature.

“What happened with Twilight, anyway?” Dash asked. “She’s not normally this tired when we’re doing this sort of stuff... you know, saving the world and all that.”

“Magical exhaustion,” Artim said. “Clear signs: tiredness, muscle fatigue, and inability to concentrate or articulate coherently. She’s fine. All she needs is some rest. We cannot go any further since it looks like sandstorms are picking up in the dunes to the west, so I guess we can consider this fortunate.”

“Favor some food?” Tehin said, pulling out a small cooking rack and dropping it over the fire, and fetching a small pot to cook with. “Dried foods are always no fun, and I believe we can do much better with some stew instead of something unsatisfying. It will take some time to cook, though...” He chuckled. “If it weren’t for the situation, I’d say this would have been a very enjoyable outing.”

Applejack let out a snicker. “I’d say it’s a right nice place to be out campin’ under the stars. Probably brighter than anywhere in Equestria. And just layin’ here on the sands... it’s kind of peaceful.”

“Yeah...” Dash said. “So, how does camping work in the Empire, anyway? Do you guys tell campfire stories?”

“That we do...” Tehin began, pouring water into the pot and snapping apart some vegetables and tossing them in. “Hmm, no meat. Oh, well. The sandrunners probably need it more than we do.”

“It isn’t a proper outing without a good drink,” Reugas said.

“Honestly, can’t you ever stop thinking about alcohol, Reugas?” Sehyia asked, sitting down next to Rarity and helping the unicorn comb her hair.

“Not once. Alcohol can make any situation more lively, and that’s a truth,” he responded, sneaking a gulp from his own canteen. “Oh, this is water, by the way. As if anything could best the sweet nectar that is water itself, after all.”

“Speaking of stories...” Rarity said, taking off her hat and placing it on the ground. “I have heard you mention this thing called the Wrathmarch before. What is it?”

“Ah... the Wrathmarch,” Artim said, sitting down across from Tehin and staring into the depths of the flickering flames. “An old tale, forever written down in history as its greatest last stand against a greater evil. One that your princesses played a great part in, as I’m sure you’re now aware of.”

“It sounds... sinister. What happened?”

Artim scratched his cheek, running his hand over his bandaged cheek in thought. “Well... practically everything paramount during the Trickster Conflict culminated into that massive battle at Fortress Tyehl, the location of the last stand. Though losses were inflicted over the course of the Conflict, the Wrathmarch was in itself the largest amount of lives lost within such a short timespan: the course of two days.

“Over the course of the war back then, it was told that civilian groups eventually banded together and began raising their own militias; guards, if you will, that became the basis of each of our settlements’ guard today. The Renascent Imperial Legion took after much of that organization and training due to the fact that the Legion as it was known back then was completely wiped out, and with it, all of its forging techniques and training discipline.”

Dash gasped. “Whoa. All of them?”

Artim nodded to her. “Down to the last man, the First Emperor among them.” He took a sip from his canteen, unwilling to let himself start off the story parched. “Well, where does it begin? No one honestly has a clue where, but the general consensus is that when the First began to amass the remainder of the Legion at some forsaken spot on the desert sands, it was there that he outlined his plans.

“This was back when the Legion was a far, far greater force of power than anything ever imagined by today’s standards. Whereas warriors like the Pillars are the exceptions today, for the Legion of old, they were the rule. Every single one of them were veterans, tried and true in the arts of war and deadly trade of combat magic, transcending even the best that any of us can provide today. The equipment they used was second to none, and they could wipe out entire hordes of beasts and emerge from the battle without so much as a scratch.

“So it was by the time of the Wrathmarch that the Legion, its original numbers unknown, was dwindled down to a group of ten thousand. Every single one of those soldiers was recalled back on orders of the First, to amass in a decisive battle that would end the war. All of them answered the call, at which point it was outlined to them that it was a very real possibility that none of them would emerge from this alive. They accepted that risk.

“Ten thousand Legion soldiers marched that day to retake Fortress Tyehl, needed to complete their plan and win the war. Accounts from there were mostly based upon pony testimonies, since none of them survived, and the results were only witnessed by the Equestrian forces once they’d found what was left of the battlefield. And their accounts were very much grim.

“By the assumed body count in the aftermath, nine thousand soldiers fell during their advance towards Tyehl. The Trickster had seen his defeat coming, and called down his own hordes in an attempt to stop them from reaching the fortress. Their numbers were great and too much for the Legion to contend with, and so they fell. By the time the First reached his destination, only a thousand soldiers remained.”

“Sweet Celestia of Equestria...” Dash said. “That’s pretty... brutal. Not even pegasi history can compare to anything that you guys have been through. So that’s when the First did all that magic mumbo-jumbo and sealed the Trickster away, right?”

Artim nodded, pulling out a pendant hidden within his own robes. It was a circular object made of dulled gold containing a crescent moon embedded within a sun, and a ring of stars around it. “The arcanists,” he said, “agreed that six of their most powerful would accompany the First and aid him in performing his ritual. What that ritual was, well... no one knows about it. Not even the princesses.”

“A seal of banishment?” Rarity asked. “Though I am not the most well-versed in the nature of spellcasting, it was one of the general spells that we learned about in my Spells and Ancient History class.”

He waved his hand and shook his head. “No, it wasn’t a spell like that. A seal of banishment means that you’d be sealing an entity within this specific realm. What they did was different... like taking something that had a presence here, and ousting it from our world entirely. As far as I’m concerned, such a spell no longer exists. It would be far too powerful to keep around... imagine any mortal capable of magic being able to seal away the princesses to another realm, and being allowed to cast that spell from any location in the world, so long as you had direct access to the skies. It’d be very much like that.”

“Well, Princess Celestia did banish Princess Luna to the moon once, when she was Nightmare Moon,” Fluttershy said. “Maybe that was what he did?”

“Again, not the same thing,” Artim replied. “The moon is still within our realm of influence, able to be controlled as easily as we can look up into the skies and see it there. What the First did was open a portal to another dimension itself, where the Trickster had once come from, and sealed him away within that accursed place. The physicalities of a banishment, however, seem to still apply, as external forces are still capable of weakening the seal.”

“And you mentioned this spell requiring some sort of focus?” Rarity continued, gesturing at his pendant with her hoof. “An item of some sort, to do... what?”

Artim flipped the pendant around, dragging his hand across the weathered back, where his name was inscribed with the date he’d been inducted into the arcanists. “To do exactly that, Rarity: to focus. Magical spells can be amplified when given the right focusing object, which is why only extremely powerful relics or artifacts are used in this school of magic. Scholars believe that the one used in particular was his crown, which has since been buried with him.”

“And so, believing that it still held magical power, that was why the Lost Expedition was launched...” Rarity said, nodding her head in realization. “Goodness, I hadn’t realized that it was so powerful. I can only imagine how well the Elements will work...”

“Okay, well, that’s enough of storytime,” Tehin interrupted, pouring some of the stew into a small wooden bowl and taking a sip. “Ah! Well, there’s nothing better than having a warm stew on a cold desert night. Here, Pinkie, have a sip—”

“Ahhhh!” Twilight shouted, her eyes opening as she suddenly grasped at her chest. She panted as she looked around, and calmed down slightly after realizing she was in safe company. “Artim, there’s... I feel... magic!”

“Magic?” Artim confusedly looked around. “That’s strange. I don’t feel anything. Are the demons returning?”

“No, not that... it’s... it’s...!” she managed, before pausing to take in gulps of air as Fluttershy flew over to help her stand up.

“It’s... what?” Artim shook his head and shrugged. “Reugas, do you feel anything?”

“Nothing but dust and sand out there. If there was something sneaking up on us, I’d be the first to know about it,” Reugas said, sitting atop his sandrunner and staring out into the empty horizon as he drank from his canteen. “It’s quiet, but the desert’s always like that.”

Twilight gasped again, shooting an impatient look at everyone around her. “No! There’s someone coming, but I don’t know who it is! They’re using... a teleportation spell, but that kind of magic... I can feel it... I know it... it’s Princess Celestia’s!”

“The Paragon is joining us?” Kandro asked.

“No!” Twilight’s eyes clenched shut as she groaned, her horn glowing purple as she encased their position in a shielded bubble. “It feels like its Princess Celestia’s magic, but it’s not! It’s different somehow, and they’re trying to cast it on us!”

“A teleportation call?!” Artim said. “Can ponies even do that?!”

“No!” Twilight shouted in response. “This sort of magic should be... argh, impossible to do! All unicorns require a line of sight in order to cast any sort of spell, for both safety and efficiency!”

Calm yourself, Twilight Sparkle.

She gasped as she looked around. “Who is it?!”

“Who is what, Twi?” Dash worriedly asked, trotting around her and checking on her physical state alongside Fluttershy. “You don’t look too good. Maybe you should just sit down and rest.”

“Maybe the Trickster is playing his games again,” Kandro said. “Are you hearing things, Twilight?”

“I heard... a voice!” Twilight said. “It told me to calm down.”

Please, you must understand. You must let me aid you. Prince Kandro’s presence is required immediately at Tandreat. I am trying to teleport you all to my position.

“No, I’m not letting you teleport us anywhere, who... whoever you are!” Twilight shouted into the skies, struggling to maintain her hold on the shield.

“Can’t you help her, Artim?” Sehyia quickly asked.

“I don’t even know what’s going on!” Artim said. “Twilight, what in the name of all that is holy is going on here?! Are we being attacked?!”

“I... don’t... know!” she angrily responded. “I can’t keep it away for long!”

Very well. If you will not allow me to teleport you, then it seems that I must be the one to visit you instead. Tell Kandro that the Champion of the Sun will be in his immediate company soon.

“Champion of the Sun?!” Twilight blurted out. “He’s... headed this way!”

Kandro let out a visible sigh of relief. “It’s alright, Twilight. Just lower your shields. I know who this Champion is. If my assumptions are correct, then I’ve gathered that they’ve grown tired of waiting for us, and have seen fit to bring us to them instead.”

Twilight untensed, sitting down as she lowered her shield and rested her head on the ground. “Why didn’t he just tell me who he was in the first place...?” she bemoaned loudly, closing her eyes. Her breathing slowed and she returned to slumber.

The night continued undisturbed for several moments, leaving them in a state of unsettling calm. Exchanging worried glances with each other, they all remained as calm as possible, looking to Kandro for some form of guidance. He gave none, but simply waited quietly... waiting for a sign. A sign that came quickly.

Winds began to swirl on the road next to their encampment, slowly growing into a small twister when it exploded into a sphere of brilliant golden light, growing in size and intensity when it suddenly stopped. The sphere fizzled out and returned their sight to the normal night to see a man standing in place where the sphere had once been.

At a glance, he might have been assumed to be another soldier, yet closer inspection revealed that his attire was far more ornate than any Legion soldier. Bearing the same deep reds and golden yellows that the Pillars had, but his armor was different, marked with the golden symbol of a golden sun across his chest’s crimson tabard.

His sabatons clacked as he walked towards them, his helmet tilting in curiosity as he looked at the ponies, at the Pillars, and then finally, at Prince Kandro. The greatsword on his back went unused as he folded his arms, giving cursory glance at Twilight before he spoke.

“Greetings, Prince Kandro. Tandreat sends its regards.”

Author's Note

Phew, this one took a while to finish. Enjoy.

And, yes, Champion of the Sun implies that there is an order dedicated to the worship of the Princess. Inspiration for his armor was drawn from a unique legendary set from Dungeon Siege 2: the Helm of Glory (helm), the Radiant Sun (chestpiece), the Gauntlets of Cleansing Fire (gloves), and the Dawntreads (boots).

VII: Old Gods

C h a p t e r 7 :

O l d G o d s

The power of the Paragon and Protector stretched from as far as we could comprehend history, but even their abilities are not the end of all such things. The void and the empyrean are considered to be the great realms of power from which all creation originated. Their powers are vast, incomprehensible, and forever out of the reach of mere mortals... or so we think.

-Anonymous scholar, The Origins of All

“Champion Rahvan...” Kandro said, shaking hands with their new arrival as his worries faded away. “Ponies, this is Champion Rahvan. He is the leader of the warrior-monks that live at Tandreat, and the Champion of the Sun for the temple that resides within.”

“Champion of the Sun?” Dash asked. “So you’re... like Celestia’s champion or something?”

Rahvan laughed, the sound echoing through his helmet as the sight of himself against the Pillars was a stark contrast: whereas the Pillars wore a mix of both garb and armor, Rahvan himself was steeled from head to toe in full plate armor. “In a sense, yes. While the first of my line was personally named by Celestia herself, we have had to enact our own succession guidelines following her return to Equestria.”

“And that magic...” Rarity said. “I’ve never seen anything like it. What is it?”

“Magic of the sun, of course,” came the reply. He opened his palm skyward and held it before him, and a small orange orb of light materialized above it, humming alongside the sound of the desert wind. “It is a... peculiar kind of magic, and usage of it was forbidden until very recently.”

“Very interesting,” Artim said, drawing himself closer to observe the orb. “I’ve never heard of solar magic before. How does it work?”

“Unfortunately, even I cannot answer that question. The elder monks at the temple may be able to explain more, but the essence of the matter is that we were only simply taught how to use it, but not why it works the way that it does. Nonetheless, it is an extremely potent form of magic, only able to be mastered by a select few.”

“Much like magic nowadays.” Artim withdrew again, satisfied with his examination of the orb as Rahvan snuffed it out. “Is there lunar magic, as well?”

Rahvan nodded. “Indeed. Though I have been instructed to bring you all back to Tandreat as soon as possible. Creatures not of our world are prowling through the longest stretches of the desert ahead, and we wish to avoid having you all fight your way through to our city.”

“All of us?” Reugas asked. “You mean you can even teleport the sandrunners?”

“Yes,” Rahvan replied, a spiral of solar magic gathering at his feet as he prepared to channel his spell. “It shouldn’t be too hard to bring all of us back.”

“Bloody fantastic,” he said, chuckling and jabbing his flask in the arcanist’s direction. “How’s that, Artim? We had a way to teleport all along!”

“So this means that we’re going to jump straight to the City of Hope, then?” Kandro asked him. Rahvan’s helmet raised towards the prince, and nodded. “Great... that saves us a lot of trouble. We’ve been traveling over the course of the full day. We were at Fort Kahir when we began our trip.”

“A long way from your origin,” Rahvan said. “Fear not, we have proper lodgings and food waiting for you at Tandreat. The rest of the city is on alert and fortified for attack, so the Temple of Dawn will be our destination. Would someone kindly ensure that Twilight Sparkle is safe before we teleport? I expect minor turbulence, but one can never be sure.”

Dash and Applejack checked up on the sleeping unicorn, with the cowfilly taking the burden of carrying Twilight upon herself. With a nod to Kandro, she joined the closing group as they began to gather around Rahvan. Reugas guided the sandrunners, taking up position at the rear of the group as the energy from Rahvan’s form began to spread.

“Whoa... uh, hehe... this is new,” Dash said. “Um... I hope this is safe...”

“Of course it is, Dashie!” Pinkie Pie said. “Otherwise, they wouldn’t offer in the first place! And I really hope that they have some prairie berry fruit tarts at this City of Hope!”

“Correct on both counts,” Rahvan said. With finality, the flash exploded outwards from the ground and surrounded them all, turning their vision into a wall of blinding light before they felt the warmth of the sun’s light embrace them.

The next view to greet their sights was the sight of stone walls surrounding them, with sconces encompassing the room’s entire length. Marbled floors beneath them bore the familiar symbol of Celestia’s sun cutie mark, as illumination from a mysterious bright light above them bore down on it like the cosmic body’s endless gaze upon a yawning desert.

“Welcome to the Temple of Dawn,” Rahvan said, walking ahead of them and gesturing to the open hall outside. Four soldiers clad in armor like his marched inside and took up guard positions around them. “I am sure you would all like to rest, but the elders would like to speak to you first.”

“Very well then,” Kandro said. “Lead the way.”

“Of course. I will lead you to them.” Rahvan paused a moment and several more people entered, wearing the red robes of the monastic order of the temple with their heads bowed low in respect. They took the sandrunners off of Reugas’ hands and exited the room with the mounts eagerly growling in anticipation of their coming meals. “Shall we?”

Rahvan led them out and into the cavernous hall, ceiling arched high above as more sources of the imitation of the sun’s light shined down and gave attention to the adornments that sat on both sides: statues of champions past, decorative armor sets in design of the ancients wielding weapons of exotic make, and great sculptures depicting Celestia of the forgotten ages. Even Kandro, as great as his status might have been, stood in wonder within the deepest confines of the Temple of Dawn, normally off-limits to all members of the public.

“Wow...” Applejack said, eyes continuously glued upon a battle-ready Celestia, rearing into the air as she trotted past it. “I’ve never seen Princess Celestia like this... it’s amazin’...”

“The Temple of Dawn holds many tributes to our great goddess,” Rahvan said. “It is here that we revere the Paragon, the sun, and its ever-present gift of life that was restored to us in a time of darkness. Lherren surely has more information than I can recall on this matter, but it pleases me to say that we already have an arcanist among us.”

“This solar magic...” Artim said. “...what is it? Why has no one from Lherren ever told us that such a thing existed? Such a thing holds the possibility of revitalizing our land—”

“That was why we did not see fit to grant it upon you, keeper,” Rahvan said quietly. “As great as the sun’s role in nature is at giving life, for us, it is not an end-all solution. In fact, just quite the opposite: to harness solar magic, magic wielded by beings greater than ourselves, is foolish and dangerous. We merely follow the tenet that has been laid out before us: to watch over all life as the sun does, and ensure its continued prosperity.”

“Just what is the danger in wielding solar magic?” Kandro asked.

“Everything.” Rahvan again willed the small orb of sunlight into existence, but instead of having it sitting benignly in his hands, he shot it forth and watched it slam into the runed doors ahead of their approach. The inscriptions all glowed for but a moment before crunching open. “In the wrong hands, wielding the power of the sun itself is dangerous, far too dangerous to simply allow any eager neophyte dip into our pool of knowledge.”

“And just how did you all end up with such a skill?” Rarity asked, trotting up on Rahvan’s other side, quill and paper at the ready. “Oh, don’t mind me, darling, I’m simply taking notes for my sleeping friend. I’m sure she’d be quite irritated if she missed out upon such an important piece of information in her absence.”

“Celestia graced us with this gift: a powerful link between those chosen and able to wield it, and the energy from which she drew her abilities as a being of the sun. The first champion became the head of what would soon become our order, and passed down his learnings to those he deemed worthy enough to learn it. This decision was made in secret, and has been preserved by every generation who has dwelled within the City of Hope since then.”

“Amazing... but why reveal yourselves now?” Kandro asked. “You could have simply sought us out with an armed escort and sandrunners.”

“It was prophesied that we would one day need to reveal ourselves since our order was founded. We knew, like all imperials, that the Trickster would someday return, and that when that day arrived, we would need to use this power of the sun to defend our city from attack. By extension, that granted us the permission to ensure your safe arrival here in Tandreat.”

“Prophecy?” Sehyia piped in from behind them. “What sort of prophecy?”

“An ancient one, blade dancer,” Rahvan said, taking a left and leading them down a stretching hall that led to a pair of guarded double doors bearing the same runic inscription that matched the one they’d passed through earlier. “The First was pragmatic, and knew this day was coming.”

“The First planned all of this?” Reugas said disbelievingly. “Just how much foresight did he have, to see this far into the future?”

“As it appears, a lot. The sun hides many secrets.”

“What of the moon?” Sehyia interjected again. “Does the Protector have a stake in any of this?”

“I am afraid not. The Protector was more reserved than the Paragon when it came to her magic, and so chose to not have any followers. The Temple of Dusk sitting upon the surface, beyond the halls of this lower sanctum, shares a space next to its sister temple, but grants none of the moon’s hallowed power upon those who tend it.”

The guards at the door stopped them before the wayward group could enter, crossing spears before the doorway as they eyed Rahvan carefully. When the champion simply raised a hand to let them pass, Rahvan stepped ahead of his charges. His hand glowed with sunlight again as he touched the door, and the deep rumbling of the intricate locks within the ancient door spoke of mastercrafted tinkering no longer able to be replicated.

Empty darkness within greeted them as the doors opened, and Rahvan stepped aside to let them in. “While I believe that the elders’ message is intended for Prince Kandro, it would most likely be more beneficial if all of you were to listen. Go on now. I would stay with you, but the defense of Tandreat requires that I be elsewhere.” He saluted afterwards and marched past them, motioning for the quartet of soldiers escorting them to join him, leaving their group alone to enter the chamber.

As soon as Kandro stepped a single foot into the room, a bright light was cast upon them, and his guard was raised as he felt his hand grasp his sword grip. But the concern was unfounded, as the light drifted slowly to the center of the room, as if beckoning them to move forward.

“This place is a little bit too dark for my liking...” Reugas whispered.

“Is there... something in here?” Fluttershy meekly said. Dash hugged her close as they proceeded in slowly. Low murmurs and secretive whispers danced around their ears as the doors behind them thudded shut. The column of light produced a single smaller column that branched off towards the far end of the room where a high council table sat. But the table was empty, and the column stopped just short of it, revealing a single monk, whose red robes of the order were laced with golden iconographies: sun, moon, stars, and swords.

The waiting elder tilted his head higher, but only slightly. The dim motes of light reflecting off of his eyes underneath his hood, but spoke everything to Kandro when they met his. “Greetings, Prince Kandro and company, and a warm welcome to you all, ponies. We in the City of Hope have been expecting you. Please, step forth into the column. There is no need to be afraid of the sun’s warmth.”

“Who are you?” Kandro asked, doing as he was asked as the others followed suit. The entire chamber was barren, desert stone walls untouched and undecorated with only the high-raised table and the illumination above them the only things to grace the room with a pleasing sight. “And what do you wish to tell us?”

“I am Elder Jerrovahn,” he said, looking at each of them as he introduced himself. None of them noticed as his gaze lingered for only but a moment longer on Kandro’s sword. “...but that is insignificant compared to what I have to offer you. Surely, Champion Rahvan must have told you of the prophecy, yes?”

“He has mentioned it, yes,” Kandro confirmed, looking at each of them. “But what is this prophecy? Why have I never heard of it until now?”

“It was mandated that we were not allowed to tell anyone beyond the most trusted of the order, my liege,” Jerrovahn said, stepping forward to get a better look at Kandro. Yet, oddly enough, still referred to Kandro with his royal title despite his greater experience, and clearly being his elder. “If others outside of these walls knew of this prophecy, then there would have been a great chance that our plans, and that of the First’s would have been disrupted.”

“Just what exactly were these plans?” he asked. “The First was thought to have died at the Battle of Fortress Tyehl. You mean that he planned beyond that?”

“Indeed, my prince,” he confirmed. He thoughtfully ran a slow hand through his beard, chuckling at Kandro’s question. “Surely, you wouldn’t have expected such a powerful ruler as the First to launch himself into a suicide battle without a plan to ensure his success in the long run?”

“Then what did he do? Just what is his plan?”

“Simple, my lord,” Jerrovahn continued. “Though it was not ready at the time, the original plan called for a weapon capable of destroying the Trickster, once and for all. However, the battle was needed in order to lay the first stepping stone towards its completion, and that was to seal the Trickster away long enough for our people to perfect it.”

“A weapon? What is this weapon?” Kandro asked. Nowhere had he ever read that such a weapon existed, and the closest ‘weapon’ that held anywhere near such relevance and magical power that he could remember was the First’s imperial crown.

“How befitting that the weapon we require already sits in our presence,” Jerrovahn amusedly said, gesturing towards the weapon sitting on Kandro’s belt. When Kandro looked down at his sword grip, he looked back to Jerrovahn and tilted his head questioningly at him. “That was why we called you here, Prince Kandro. Please, show me your blade.”

“This sword?” Kandro unsheathed the martialsword, holding it flat against his hand as he examined it: a common martialsword, plain in its appearance with a polished blade and leather-wrapped grip. The only notable piece on the sword was its hilt, which was inscribed with a winding gold flourish. “This sword was passed down to me, but I’ve never thought much of it...”

“Then it would behoove you to know that the First was a wielder of the martialsword,” he said, pointing a finger at the weapon. “And that the sword you hold in your hands is his.”

“But... how? That a blade has existed for so long means that...” he said, voice fading away as he held the blade high into the air against the light. “It was repaired...”

“Indeed,” Jerrovahn said, nodding as Kandro adeptly twirled his sword around in his hand. “In fact, I was the one in charge of restoring the blade to its quality, like my predecessors before me. To ensure that the weapon would still be ready when the time for its use would arrive.”

“But... again, how?” Kandro repeated. “This is a simple blade. I admit, it can kill demons, but what use does it have for the First? If the true weapon was his sword, what was missing back then that he couldn’t use it?”

“Magic,” he simply said.

“The Trickster is, undoubtedly, ancient and powerful,” Jerrovahn continued. “At the time, the First and his council, however talented they were, did not possess the magical levels capable of destroying the Trickster. And after meeting and speaking with the Paragon and Protector, neither could they. So a plan was hatched that would allow the weapon to gain access to an energy source strong enough to stand against chaotic energies.”

“All to kill the Trickster? I thought he was only able to seal away the Trickster because they didn’t have enough energy to kill him,” Artim noted.

“They had energy to spare, keeper of Lherren.” Jerrovahn paced around to him, wagging his finger at him. “But that reveals why the spell is impossible to replicate: it was an extremely risky gamble, merging the invocation of two extremely powerful spells into a single act: a spell to seal away the Trickster, and the other, to channel the life force of all soldiers and mages present at Fortress Tyehl into the empyrean.”

“The realm of the harmonic empyrean? They achieved immortality?” Reugas said. “Impossible.”

“Very possible, ranger. I’d suggest you kindly keep your reservations about these sorts of matters with an open mind until you’ve witnessed them yourself,” Jerrovahn replied tersely. “Forcing their souls into the empyrean was the only way the gateway to such a powerful energy source could be accessed.”

Kandro held back a response as his companions conversed with each other behind him, Jerrovahn offering comments whenever he could. The empyrean was an abstract concept, barely touched off upon by scholars and researchers as a mysterious realm that held harmonic energies capable of countering the chaos and the void from which the Trickster drew his power, but was had long since been debunked and considered fake. Yet here, not only was it revealed that such a realm actually existed, but it was also used by the First...

“Then the plan was to infuse the sword with the empyrean’s energies, then?” Kandro said.

“Yes, that was—and still is—indeed the plan, but there was... something else... that we should see fit to tell you.” With a nod, the clink of stone against the marble floor broadcasted an opening, and a small monolith rose out of the ground in front of Kandro. A mold for a sword sat on top of it, matched perfectly to his martialsword’s design. “You are required to deliver the empyrean-forged blade to the First.”

“And what happens afterwards?” Kandro asked. “And does this mean that the First still lives?”

Jerrovahn crossed his hands and shrugged. “Still lives? Certainly. He has been watching the growth of our Empire for a very long time. All the rumors you have heard about the Lost Expedition? Only one is true, and I believe that at this point, you know which truth that is.”

“They found the tomb...” he whispered. So their efforts had not been in vain after all.

“Correct. We... do not know in full what has happened to them, but it would be wise to assume that the First most likely had them... killed.”

Kandro dumbfoundedly shook his head. “What?! Why?” he asked.

“It is simply the nature of his being, Prince Kandro.” Jerrovahn sighed, ostensibly having explained this more than once. “You must realize that at the time of the spell’s completion, the First, quite literally, watched everyone around him die. His soul was filled with vengeful thoughts, and so that aspect of himself was what he took with him into the empyrean.”

“Doesn’t the harmony of the empyrean account for this, though?” Sehyia asked. “Surely it could not have let him sustain his maddened thoughts for too long?”

“An interesting question, Pillar Sehyia.” The coming response was delayed as Jerrovahn muttered to himself, uttering quiet words and recalling as many shards of information he could. Eventually, he collected himself and answered, “Unfortunately... I do not honestly know. The last we heard from the First was when he contacted us several decades ago notifying us of a change in plans... since then, he has been silent. We cannot tell if his hostility still stands, but it would be fair to assume that the Lost Expedition may have lived up to its namesake, and that you might suffer the same fate.”

“So what you’re saying is that not only is the First actually alive, he’s royally pissed off?” Confirming nods from the elders again made Reugas scoff. “Well, that’s just dandy. So what happens when we deliver this sword to him?”

“You may either live or die. The jurisdiction lies with the First.”

He threw up his arms and paced around in a circle. “So you’re saying that our quest to save the Empire may just as well end up getting us killed? I’m not sure I really like the thought of that. I really like being alive, you know, good for the body and all that.”

Tehin put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him in his roundabouts. “Enough, Reugas. At this point, it is a risk we will have to take. I’d rather at least make sure that this sword falls into the right hands so the purgation of the Trickster can begin than let our world be swallowed in darkness.”

“Rock and a hard place.” Reugas shook his head, looking pointedly at Tehin. “I’m really getting tired of these stacked odds against us.”

“Then let’s try to stack as many odds in our favor as possible, my friend,” Tehin assuaged him. “And if not, then the First will learn that we will not go without a fight.” At that, Reugas chuckled; to fight a revered figure from imperial history in combat was something that no soldier in the Empire would ever expect to happen, and the Pillars stood among those ranks.

“Please, Prince Kandro,” Jerrovahn said, ignoring Reugas’ outburst. “Place your sword into the pedestal.”

Kandro placed the sword into the mold on the pedestal, giving a final push as a small crack ensured that the weapon was firmly entrenched within and stepped back. At first, nothing happened... then the room seemingly exploded in energy, blinding all within the chamber as the sound of piercing shrieks shook the ground and rippled through the air.

As he raised his hands to cover his eyes, the last Kandro saw of his martialsword was of something—a tendril of energy, he assumed—carving something into the blade. And through the din of the moment, he could hear whispers, words no longer spoken in the day and age he was born in. Ancient Renascent words from a time no longer remembered, unknown yet strangely familiar, enunciating words of power that bore themselves into the sword, changing its form as the light molded and reshaped it into its original legacy.

The light pulsated, flashing even brighter in quickening intervals, causing all to recoil from its expanding sphere as the shriek of energy turned into a deafening cacophony of ear-splitting roars. The only sign that the act was nearing its end was the acrid smell of the energy made manifest expending itself, burning air and metal as the process neared its completion.

Eventually, they lost their footing as the quaking grew too great for them to stand righted, though the spectacle was strange; this was surely a situation where the vaulted stone ceiling above them should have long since collapsed upon them as the unceasing tremors beneath feet and hoof would have felled even the Obsidian Spire by now.

“What in the hay is going on?!” Applejack shouted.

“Calm yourself, dear!” Rarity said. “Just let the magic run its course!”

“Wh... magic?” Twilight mumbled, her voice obscured by the noise. “Magic? Magic!” Her eyes shot open and took in the scene before her. “Applejack? What’s going on?”

“It’s just some crazy magic doodad thingy that they’re doing to the prince’s sword! They’re puttin’ some sort of harmony magic into it or somethin’!” She narrowly caught her hat just as it was about to be blown away, her attention divided between standing her ground and trying not to accidentally throw Twilight off her back.

Twilight hopped off of Applejack’s back, her torso experiencing a short soreness as her body reacclimated itself to the ground underneath, unfortunately much to her chagrin as the disorientation caused from being on her friend’s back was now experienced at full blast as she swayed around on her hooves.

The light swirled around, pulling itself into a whirlwind as it began to recede, and disappeared far faster than it had arrived. Within the span of only a few seconds, the room was back to normal again, and the soothing warmth above them returned, shining down upon the pedestal and the new item it now bore.

“That’s... quite a sword...” Artim said. All of them, including Jerrovahn, circled around the pedestal to watch Kandro pull the sword out of the stone mold, chips and shards of hardened steel flaking off of it as he did so.

“The Blade of the First...” Jerrovahn said reverently. “It is as I remember seeing it in the tomes. Through every iteration of repair it has gone through since it had fallen into our possession, the blade lost a large amount of the qualities that it once had in favor for repairs by men who in this day and age could only be considered layman. But this...” He gestured towards the entire length of the runed blade. “...this is a true example of the glory that our Empire once held. Wield it proudly, Prince Kandro.”

“The sword, it feels... lighter somehow...” Kandro stepped back and away from the group, practicing his routines, pirouetting while jabbing and slashing at the empty air. “Much lighter, and much more dexterous. Nowhere near as cumbersome as the old sword, as light as it already was... it’s almost as if the blade isn’t even in my hand!”

“Old world craftsmanship, my liege,” Artim said. “The old Renascent Imperial Legion had entire arsenals of equipment forged with such skill.” He looked to Jerrovahn. “Are there any more such relics that can still be infused with empyrean energies?”

“None, I’m afraid. The founders of Lherren made it quite clear to our order that all that we recovered from Fortress Tyehl was to be buried with the First, undoubtedly as part of the plan. Beyond that, our business here has been completed, and now I am required to pass on a message to the subjects of our great benefactor, the Paragon.”

“To us? A message from who?” Twilight asked, no longer tired despite her temporary slumber. Standing in the light filled her with vigor, almost as if she could sense Celestia smiling warmly down to her, and it gave her confidence as she awaited Jerrovahn’s words.

“The First, of course. He has known of your coming for a very long time, though the moniker he used to describe you in particular was the ‘child of the stars’. Seeing your mark of destiny—I believe they are called cutie marks now, but that was what the Paragon called them back during the Trickster Conflict—I can understand why.”

Twilight watched him as he pulled out a small cloth scroll from his robes’ sleeves, unfurling the object and began to read through it. His mouth mumbled in his skimming, and before long, Twilight’s interested was piqued. “Is that an actual scroll?”

“What, this old thing? No, no, of course it isn’t. The original manuscript was a message from the First to us, but its condition no longer allows it to be used. So we made copies of the text instead, though this one is unfortunately wearing out, as well...” He harrumphed once he had finished and secreted the scroll away in his robes again. “In any case, it isn’t any profound or great message, but merely a friendly warning of things to come, Twilight Sparkle.”

“You... know my name? How did you know that?”

“I was attuned to the conversation shared between Rahvan and your group through the usage of solar magic,” Jerrovahn said. “In any case, the message is this: ‘for the child of the stars, you have many great things ahead of you. Do not forget what you have learned, for they will be pivotal in the grand scheme of things to come.’ I’m not really entirely sure what he means by that, but I suppose you most likely know more about this than I do.”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand. The empyrean grants the ability to see the future?” Twilight asked, shaking her head at the message. For all intents and purposes, Princess Celestia had not let Twilight know of any such important deeds to come, especially nothing pertaining to the well-being of Equestria and maybe the world.

Jerrovahn crossed his arms wide and frowned. “Perhaps it does, perhaps it does not. Perhaps you ponies have more information on this realm of harmony, for our own archives have nary a single report that could adequately prove it. Plenty of documents that say the contrary, though, if you’re interested in them.”

“So, what? Does that mean Twi has somethin’ big comin’ up for her?” Applejack asked, to both Jerrovahn and Twilight herself. “I can hardly imagine anythin’ tougher than what we’re goin’ through right now.”

“Big enough that it warranted the First to send a message for her to tell her,” he said. “In any case, I will call the guards now, and they will escort you to your quarters. The temple on the surface above us is also welcome to your perusal as well, though I wouldn’t really recommend it since—”

“Sir, sir!” a guard of the order pushed past the double doors, coming to a stop before Jerrovahn and saluting as he caught his breath. “Elder Jerrovahn, there’s been... word...” he panted. “...that there’s something new at the walls. The tomes... the tomes say that it’s a footsoldier from void. He’s leading the chaotic legions against Tandreat’s walls!”

“And this footsoldier, just what does he look like?” Jerrovahn asked him.

“Taller than a man... walks on two legs and has a tail, with a horned head. Hellish in its appearance, and it’s already put the militia on edge. The rest of the order is standing their ground, but this one is too powerful for any of us to deal with. Champion Rahvan is all that’s holding him back at the moment.”

“Then I will go,” Kandro said. “The blade must be tested. Tehin, you will be coming with me as I may have need of your strength. Artim, Reugas, and Yhimit, I want you on the surface to guard the temple. Sehyia, take the ponies and keep them safe.”

“I will,” Sehyia said.

“Good.” Kandro approached the soldier, fully recovered from his exhaustion. “Where is Rahvan, soldier?”

“The north gates,” the soldier said, pulling out a scroll from his satchel. “Take this map. It will guide you to him.”

“Many thanks,” Kandro said, taking the map and spinning the swprd in his hand. It’s runed features were more striking than even the most glorious jewelry in Renascence, and the runes inscribed down the length of the blade glowed in the dark, leaving fading trails of pure energy as he swung it in front of him. “Let’s put this to the test.”

“Why are you the only one here?” Sehyia asked Jerrovahn, who currently was leading them up the stairs to the surface. “Where were the guards at the door?”

“Called to action, unfortunately,” Jerrovahn said, hand gripping the sword sheath hanging off the side of his robe. Having acquired a weapon from one of many guard stations set up within the sanctum, it was his decision to have at least one more capable fighter in the group beyond Sehyia. “Don’t worry about me. Though I may seem old, my sword arm is still perfectly intact.”

“You said something about you reforging the Kandro’s sword before. Does it have something to do with that?” Twilight asked.

“Oh, of course. You see, I wasn’t always an elder. In my old days, I was a blacksmith!” Jerrovahn laughed as the clicks of their boots and hooves echoed up the stone steps. “Yes, those were the days. Smithing’s an honest profession, and given our Empire’s recent troubles, one that never goes out of business.”

“I can tell,” Artim said, strolling alongside the other side of the elder, Sehyia having taken up the other flank. “Now, I’d like to ask you something about...”

“How interesting,” Sehyia said. When she felt the smooth silky feeling of Rarity’s mane against her hand, she turned to see the unicorn looking up at her. “Rarity? Is something wrong?”

“Should we really be ascending to the surface like this?” Rarity asked her. “I was under the impression that the city was under attack, was it not? Why not stay underground, where it’s nicer and certainly less grating?”

“Nothing to shoot at down here,” Reugas joked. “And besides, the last place you want to run into something with lots of sharp teeth is underground. Trust me when I say I’ve had my fair share of close encounters.”

“The quarters are topside, Miss Rarity,” Jerrovahn said, having answered Artim’s question. “And there are far more guards on the surface than there are in the sanctum. With the Trickster able to spawn his minions anywhere, it is a chance I’d rather not take, even with the divine protection of the Temple of Dawn.”

“What’s the history behind this place, anyway?” Dash asked. “It looks really old, and that sanctum back underground totally looks like the kind of place Daring Do would be if she.. well, if she was real.”

“And the statues we all saw with Celestia... I didn’t know she even had this sort of history to her...” Fluttershy said.

“To be honest, sugarcube, I don’t think anypony knows ‘bout this ‘cept the Princesses. We’re treadin’ ground in a place nopony has been in for a long, long, time,” Applejack said.

“Tandreat was built by the survivors of the Trickster Conflict, since it was here that the largest numbers of refugees congregated. We built this city from the ground up like a fortress, with the primary battlements designed to guard the Temple of Dawn and Dusk here atop the plateau that sits within the heart of it,” Jerrovahn said.

“Wowie! You all built this place from the ground up?” Pinkie Pie said. “That’s really cool! So how’d the temples get put here? Did Princess Celestia give you some magical stone thingies for the temple, like what you use for lights downstairs, so you can use all those fancy magic powers?”

“In a sense. The first champion, in addition to the magic learned from the Paragon, demanded that a temple dedicated to our benefactors be built here, on top of this plateau. Though originally intended as means of offering thanks to the Paragon and Protector, it eventually turned into a beacon that other refugees began to flock to.”

“Do you mind if we stop by the Temple before we head to the quarters?” Twilight asked. The question stemmed from pure curiosity, and she was beyond intrigued at how the world beyond her own viewed her beloved mentor. As it turned out, most, like the griffons or the dragons, seemed fairly neutral, but the humans were another thing entirely.

“Certainly,” Jerrovahn said. They finally reached the end of the steps and exited into the night air. Flickers of burning arrows constantly darted through the skies above the city as the temple’s honor guards stood watch, hands tensely gripping their weapons in dear hopes that the fighting would not stray any closer.

The guards were taken aback when they noticed that Jerrovahn had exited with curious company, and their awestruck gazes towards the ponies held for several moments until they remembered to actually say their respects towards their elder and their guests. Jerrovahn merely laughed their lapse in decorum off, but screeches from the gates dampened his mood.

“They’re a little too close for comfort, wouldn’t you think?” Sehyia said. “I assume most of the guards are situated on the walls and gates?”

“Of course,” Jerrovahn said, looking at the roofs of the buildings around the courtyard they’d entered. “And archers all over the roofs. Most of the honor guard not sent to a post have been instructed to stay inside until the alarm bells are rung, though many of them have seen fit to visit the temples for inspiration and support. Speaking of which, they are down this way.”

“We’ll get ourselves set up as soon as possible,” Artim said, waving Yhimit and Reugas towards his direction as he split off from their group. “No doubt that every helping hand is needed. Hopefully Prince Kandro will have this ordeal sorted out in a timely fashion.” Artim and Yhimit ran the other direction as Reugas tossed a hook-line, fueled by his combat magic, up to the roof hanging above him, giving a curt salute before he was whisked away by the rope, shortening their number by three.

Jerrovahn led them down the path, beneath the awnings and behind the columned hall as it led towards a brightly-lit doorway in the distance, with a group of soldiers congregating around it. As they neared, the soldiers immediately stood at attention and gave respectful nods, standing idle until Jerrovahn stopped and looked at one of them.

“Captain Prestio,” he said. “I thought you were assigned to guard the orphanage on the other side of the compound?”

“Indeed I was, Elder Jerrovahn,” he said. “But the matron has ordered me to the temple, believing that its greater significance holds more weight in our defense.”

Jerrovahn sighed, putting a firm hand on his shoulder. “If we lose the temple, we can rebuild, captain, but lives are not so easily replaced. I know that the matron’s word is held in high regard, but you must remember to consult with an elder if the decision conflicts with your duty.”

“I understand, sir,” Prestio said. “...sorry, sir.”

“No harm done yet, captain,” Jerrovahn said. “But return to your posts before trouble begins to stir in earnest. Fear not for the defense of the temple, for I have here with me a Pillar of the Obsidian Spire, and with us, as you can see, the bearers of the Elements of Harmony, guests and worthy allies bestowed upon us by the blessing of the Paragon.”

The soldiers gasped, whispering among themselves, and Prestio smiled. “Then I will return to the matron with good tidings. I return now to my post, and I pray that you all stay safe. Come, soldiers, back to the orphanage.” As their squad left, the last thing that Prestio was heard saying to his men, in high spirits, was how the temple was left in good hands.

No further words were exchanged as Jerrovahn led them through the doorway and up yet another set of stairs, emerging onto the open floor that held the grand entrance into the Temple of Dawn. Much like in the chamber, a massive stone etching of Celestia’s sun was carved into the floor, glowing with that same strange solar magic. At least one full unit of guards was stationed at the entrance, keeping watch for any beasts who would dare desecrate their holy grounds.

“Wowie!” Pinkie exclaimed. “If I could, I would totally like to throw a party here! We can have, like, a princess-themed party or something! And we can invite the Princess Celestia and Luna to it! I’m sure they’d like that, right?”

“It could be done,” Jerrovahn said. “We do hold our annual Festival of the Skies here at the temple. I’m sure if Miss Pie could provide some fantastic examples of Equestrian pastries, great times would be shared by many.”

“Wait a cake-chomping moment!” Pinkie said, shifting closer and staring hard at him. “I don’t remember telling you my name, mister!”

Jerrovahn grinned. “Perhaps I can say that I’ve been following your journey since you’ve entered the Empire, Miss Pie, and leave it at that! And I’m sure the children at the orphanage would love to have you around. Maybe we can drop by afterwards and give them something to be happy for.”

“That’ll be juuuuuuuust dandy!” she said. “You wouldn’t happen to serve prairie berry fruit tarts at this festival, would you?”

“Certainly, and plenty of other things. Allow me to enlighten you on our list...” Their discussion continued inside as Sehyia watched the other ponies trickle in with them. The strange feeling in her chest, almost like she was floating in midair with no gravity to tether her to this world, gave her pause. Then, that telltale sign appeared as her hair stood on end, and she drew her sword. The guards at the gate took notice.

“Is something wrong, miss?” one of them asked.

“Trouble,” she said. She looked all around, searching for a sign that something had appeared... yet with each passing moment, not a single trace of the monster could be found. But she knew her instincts; her mind wouldn’t be screaming out that danger was close if it didn’t have reason to. “Stay alert, guards.”

Her eyes drifted across the vista that she held before her, ignoring the mirage effects from the braziers scattered around the open space until she realized something: she was staring straight ahead into the city, without a brazier anywhere close to it... but the air was still blurry.

She urged her body to react, and no sooner had she done so did a tendril suddenly appear and slash at the position where her neck had once been. The spine-like weapon barely grazed the tip of her nose as she rolled backwards, falling back towards protection as the guards quickly swarmed in front of her, deflecting another round of lightning quick slashes from the beast with their shields.

“What the—?!” Jerrovahn returned outside, sword in hand. “One of them, here?!”

“Get inside, elder!” Sehyia shouted. “I’ll handle this! Keep the ponies safe!”

“Of course! But before I go, take this!” He dug into the small pouch on his belt and tossed Sehyia what appeared to be a small pebble. “Use it on your weapon! You’ll be glad you did!”

She was barely able to glance at the object before she looked at Jerrovahn and shook her head. “I... what?! How do I use this?!”

“Just put it on your blade!” Jerrovahn said. “Ancestors curse this predicament, and woes upon the First for making me do this!” He quickly ran over, snatching the rock from her hands, grabbed her arm, and slammed the rock into her sword; to her surprise, the rock simply merged into it without any resistance. “There! Now I’ve been out here long enough! May your sword strike true, Sehyia!”

“What the fuck is going on here?!” a familiar voice shouted. Reugas pulled himself over the railing to her right, firing several arrows as he sprinted over to her crouched form. “Sehyia? What’s wrong, did a foot soldier knock the wind out of you?!”

“Shut up, Reugas!” She stood, feeling her blade quake much like what had happened with Kandro’s martialsword. “Jerrovahn put something in my sword, and... I don’t know what it did!”

Reugas grabbed her wrist and rotated her sword so the blade hovered in front of her face. “I think I can hazard a guess,” he said, breaking off temporarily to fight the demon as guards flew over them. As the monster bellowed triumphantly, Reugas grimaced and looked over his shoulder. “Hold yourself a moment, you ugly bastard. I’ll get to you in a moment.”

“I... think it’s just like Prince Kandro’s sword?” she muttered, watching the ancient runes carve themselves into the steel out of thin air as her blade glowed a radiant yellow. Then she understood what Kandro felt: feeling herself become taken by the power emanating from her weapon.

“Yes, I’m sure that’s fantastic, but could you figure out how to use it, like, right now?” Reugas asked, distracting the beast as he danced around it at a stone’s throw away, urging the circling guards to keep at bay. The brute’s resilience was greater than anything they’d fought so far, as Reugas’ arrows seemed completely unable to pierce its thick hide. Its grotesque jagged mouth merely opened as it laughed at his futile attempts to fell it.

“I think I’ve finally got... it...!” Sehyia’s vision of time seemed to slow to a crawl, evidenced as Reugas’ returning shout turned from a cry into a slowed affirmation of her statement. The peripheries of her view glowed with a golden energy, and the feeling was almost overwhelming as she quickly focused her mind on only the important details.

She stood and turned around. In her eyes, every human around her glowed with a serene blue fog, which she assumed to be representations of their life forces somehow. Reugas’ had a tinge more of indigo, undoubtedly alluding to his combat magic ability.

The footsoldier, still turned away from her, was glowing a heinous red, its wisps tearing away from its form, like a furious animal that wished to strangle the world itself to death. By extension of that, similar such objects dotted the skies above Tandreat, occasionally swinging down to launch an attack on a guard unit, assuredly.

And herself... she looked down at her hand, and found it glowing that same color that tinted her vision, but far brighter. When she raised her sword from the other hand, she found it surprising that it wasn’t a sword any longer, as she now appeared to be holding a lance of pure cleansing fire. The energy reacted to this, eventually shaping the flames into the recognizable form of her blade dancer’s sword.

She looked down to see that the reds of her armor and cloth had somehow been recolored into a pure white, so intense that it seemed to glow even in the dead of night. The footsoldier turned around, giving an acrimonious roar at the sight of its new opponent.

Sehyia steadied herself, and readied her blade, arcing it behind herself as she crouched into a low combat stance. It was time now her dance of blades, where none save herself would be leaving alive.

“...be careful...!” was all she heard Reugas clumsily shout through her enhanced senses. But there was no need, for as much as Reugas was inhibited by the disadvantage of a normal time dilation, so was the footsoldier.

And yet, in another turn of surprising windfalls, as soon as the footsoldier had finished raising its abomination of an arm to swing its weapon at Sehyia... it stopped, frozen in time. At first, she had almost scoffed at the fact that her abilities had now transcended far beyond anything a Pillar could achieve, but decided to take her time instead, weaving around the beast’s extremities and hacking away at them rather cleanly, shearing through its flesh where normal weapon would not have worked or even broken.

It was exhilarating, and within moments, she knew the footsoldier would be dead before its corpse even hit the ground. Among the combat, she could see Reugas sluggishly moving about, raising a hand to the side of his head at the view that now greeted him, and she could barely suppress her smile. Another reason to hope, another blow against the Trickster. If Kandro had anything near as powerful as what she had... then reckoning was guaranteed.

She stopped in front of the footsoldier, jumping back to inspect her handiwork. Clean lines all the way through, still glimmering from the energy embedded within the sword as it cleaved through like a hot knife through butter. Artim would no doubt have great interest in asking her about her newfound accessory, and—

Coughs escaped her lips as sharp jabs of pain wracked her body, and she flew backwards and hit the ground roughly. In an instant, the energy that had strengthened her was gone, torn out of her body in a fashion that she could only equate to having one’s soul ripped out of their heart. But she was clearly still alive, and as she picked herself back up, she could see the disintegrating parts of the former footsoldier fading away into ashes.

Reugas returned to her, giving himself as a crutch for her to lean on as she got to her feet. “Ancestors bloody protect us all, that was the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen! It was like you suddenly turned into divine lightning and hacked that thing to pieces in the blink of an eye!” he said to her while eyeing the sword in her hand; the runes upon it still glowed.

“I think Prince Kandro will be just fine...” she rasped out.

“Shields ready! Another round incoming!” a guard captain shouted. The line of soldiers standing in the center of the street raised their shields to form a barrier as the projectiles bounced off. “Archers, ready arrows!”

Kandro and Tehin charged down the street, finding refuge in an enclosed doorway just as the remainder of the arrows rained down past the phalanx of soldiers. “Arrows now?” Tehin wondered aloud. “Looks like we’d best be on our guard.” He clenched his fist as his combat magic placed a protective barrier over himself.

“Fire!” the captain shouted, and the single line of city guard archers behind the phalanx stood and fired their volley into the air. What creatures in the air were in the parabola of the launch were felled instantly as the remaining arrows found purchase on the ground, and for many, in the backs of charging creatures. “Spears, ready!”

“City defense doctrine,” Kandro muttered. “Tandreat’s militia is about as well-equipped and trained as any standard Imperial Legion unit. And judging from their cohesion, arguably better.”

Grunts and shouts echoed as the beasts slammed into their shield wall, shrieks and screams given in return as the guard unit pierced forward with their spears. Beyond their battle, Kandro could see a quick trio of flashes in the distance, several city blocks farther away and just right next to the gates.

“That must be where Rahvan is,” Tehin said. “But this entire street has been engulfed in battle. Shall we proceed to cut our way through to him?”

“Of course,” Kandro said. His body felt lighter as the energy coursed down to his feet, giving him extra dexterity for his reactions, and making his movements that much more fleet. “I will lead the way. Leave the guards to their formation—we will go over them instead.”

“Headlong into battle, and in a spectacular fashion!” Tehin said, echoing his prince’s actions, as his boots began to glow. “Lead on, great prince!”

“Don’t fall behind!” Kandro said, chuckling to himself as he jumped out of the doorway space and into the street. His path forwards was obscured by a shouting captain huddled underneath his shield and the soldiers on front of him as their battle line stood fast against another volley of raining spikes.

He was startled at how fast his arm moved when he swung to parry them, having already letting his magic take hold in his senses. Where such an act—charging daringly into an enemy’s assault whilst bearing no protection beyond the armor on his back—would normally have at least put him in the proper mindset to ensure his very survival, his mood at that very moment felt... calm. Relaxed, almost as if he were merely swatting flies out of the sky.

Tehin took notice of the prince’s nonchalant motions as he pinpointed the cause. “My liege... you’re glowing!”

“Now is not the time for flattery, Tehin!” Kandro dourly returned.

“No, I mean... literally! You are literally glowing!” Kandro looked over his shoulder, his lips partially curling into a frown until he decided to take a look at himself. And sure enough, Tehin was correct: the whole of his body was glowing. “It’s the sword, isn’t it?”

“That’s great!” he said, leaping over the guard unit as they gawked, landing right at the spear of the incoming charge. A single carve through the air eviscerated the first wave, with naught but a modicum of effort on his behalf, and it pleased him. “I was worried that it wouldn’t work!”

And yet for what he could accomplish with what he had at the moment... Kandro had just the right hunch that, with an even greater push, he could achieve much more. An affirming hum from his sword gave him all the encouragement he needed, and as he continued forward, paving a trail of carnage in his wake

Tehin was right alongside him, caving in the skulls and sides of any creature that drifted too close to his advance with his hefty weapon. As they drew closer to Rahvan’s battle, easily marked with scores of scorched burn marks and bright beams of solar magic streaming into the sky, they split off—Tehin began to work crowd control, dwindling the enemy numbers as Kandro left to aid the champion.

“Make room!” Kandro heard Rahvan shout as he honed in on him in the center of the avenue. “This accursed beast just will not relent, so you must stay your distance until then!” he shouted, keeping his order brothers away as he combated the threat himself. He could see Rahvan, standing off against the footsoldier, kneeled over and spat a globule of blood onto the ground.

He skidded to a halt with a crunching roll through the rubble on his boots, and helped Rahvan up. “I heard you needed help, champion,” he simply said, receiving that same awestruck look when he looked at Rahvan.

“My... liege...?” Rahvan said. Then he looked at the sword in Kandro’s hand, and smiled. “That’s the sword...!”

“It is.” With a firm push, he nudged Rahvan back towards his comrades. “Fight with them. I’ll deal with this one myself.” He received a nod and turned back to the footsoldier, brandishing its ghastly axe, made from heinous spines and bleached bone. “On your guard, blasted creature,” he challenged.

The footsoldier didn’t even bother giving a verbal return to his provocation, instead opting to bolt straight for him; as it turned out, the footsoldier moved far more quickly than Kandro had given it credit for, and only barely to dodge out of the way of his charge, just in time to deliver a rolling strike to the back of its right heel as he spun around to face him. A pained roar alerted him to his successful strike, and he smiled celebration.

But it was too soon, as the footsoldier instantaneously retaliated. Spinning around quickly on its undamaged heel, it whirled its massive axe around with incredible speed. Kandro barely reacted in time, feeling the back of his palm slam into his face as he brought his sword up to deflect the decapitating swing, and followed the momentum of the strike as the axe pushed him around in an arc. He felt something crack in his hand and gritted his teeth; perhaps his eagerness in his newfound advantage was too easily celebrated.

He immediately ducked underneath the weapon as he temporarily retreated to examine his injured hand. As he found out, it was merely minor damage that would only pain his movements with his left hand, but nothing that would put him out of the action permanently. And with the greater size of the blade, it made far more sense to wield the weapon with both hands and merely one. He grimaced; what teachings on two-handed wielding styles for the martialsword were broken and incomplete; had the First meant to proliferate its teachings following the war?

“Are you alright, sire?” he heard Rahvan shout.

“Just fine!” Kandro shouted. He sidestepped a descending strike and slashed the footsoldier’s arm repeatedly in the blink of an eye before jumping back. He groaned at the lack of the creature’s acknowledgement of his damage, before he felt something hit his side and send him reeling back into the ruins of a burnt-out home. The tail, he recalled; he’d forgotten that such an appendage could also be used as a weapon, though it was with great fortune that it hadn’t had any barbs or otherwise able to have instantly impaled him.

“Sire!” he heard Rahvan cry out.

“I’m fine!” Kandro angrily replied. “Just stand back! I’ve got this!”

He adeptly disappeared out a side door instead of the front opening of the home, where the footsoldier would have been waiting him. Meandering through an alley back towards the street, Kandro found it just as he expected: with its gaze set upon the house he was once in, back facing towards him. Taking the opportunity, he dashed forward, hopefully to gain enough distance to deliver a decisive killing blow upon its head.

But yet this attempt would not succeed, either. Again, with inhuman senses, the footsoldier whirled around and slammed into him with a fist, sending him flying into the crumbling building right across the street from the previous building he’d been acquainted with. As he held the side of his head, his frustration only boiled over. If this was the sort of enemy that they would be fighting against in the coming days, why couldn’t he even kill just this one with his empowered sword? Some advantage it turned out to be.

A skittering pack of lithe demons were routed by Rahvan as he moved into the building to assist Kandro. “Prince Kandro! Are you alright?” he asked, holding out a hand to help him up.

Kandro swatted him away, and pulled himself up. “I’m fine! I just... don’t understand why this isn’t working! This is the First’s legendary weapon, and a martialsword at that! Why won’t it work against a mere footsoldier of the Trickster?!”

“Simple solutions, sire,” Rahvan said, pointing at the blade. “You know his weapon, and you know how to wield it. But you must think like the First to truly make the weapon sing. Think, Prince Kandro—how would the First fight if he stood here among us?”

“He’d... follow the... teachings...” he said, fading off as he realized just what he’d been missing. He’d charged into battle expecting to merely cleave the hated enemies of the Empire into pieces and had eschewed what he had been taught: the martialsword way. And they were simple, easy to remember and follow: remain calm, anticipate the enemy... and maintain complete control of the battlefield. “That’s it.”

“Good,” Rahvan said, patting him on the shoulder. “I leave you to your battle now. Do not fail us.” He returned to the street, running through the wall of sand and dust and into the fray again.

Kandro inhaled deeply, letting his mind settle itself before he exhaled. The sounds of battle were tuned out as he focused upon his inner quiet, feeling his awareness extend in all directions, taking in every rock, human, and creature running through the city. He could see the footsoldier in his mind’s eye, bellowing out a fearsome battle cry that only emboldened the underlings in its command. And he could see Rahvan with his comrades, a lone beacon staving off an unending wave of darkness from the city gates.

To be fully attuned to the world’s nuances, that he remembered, was something that only true martialsword masters could achieve. And he was no master... or so he claimed. Tehin and his mentor had said that he was more than ready for the challenges that lay ahead of him, and yet he did not feel like he had truly comprehended all it had to teach. Perhaps this was the final step, and he let himself draw in the energy that permeated him.

Gleaming sprites crossed the inside of his eyes, and before he knew it, the entire world was being visualized through a medium of pure energy. The calling cry of the empyrean magic spurred him forward, and he opened his eyes to see his world through near-omniscient sight, his vision greatly sharpened and perception of time slowed down to a sluggard crawl.

As a normal human, he could not comprehend how to defeat the footsoldier, too hardy and quick for him to adequately fight against. Yet here, the magic called to him, screaming out every flawed facet on its form that he could exploit to his advantage. A single step forward shifted into a glide and propelled him far, launching his body out of the building and out into the open as he landed softly on his feet.

The footsoldier took notice of him again, and raised its axe towards him in its own challenge now, edging him on with a guttural laugh. Kandro merely shook his head at the display, watching in amusement as the smaller critters seem to pass him by, though whether it was out of fear of him, or respect for their master, he did not know.

Martialsword style dictated that the battle be finished in a few moves as possible. Observe, predict, counter, and destroy—four steps were all that was needed. He began to circle around the footsoldier, carefully eyeing its reaction as it mirrored his steps opposite him, his adversary snarling as black ichor drooled from its teeth.

His sword grip tightened, and he leveled the weapon, pointedly aiming straight at its head in acceptance. A huff was given in response as it waited; he was being given the first move... a strange and twisted example of honor that only chilled his blood. It was toying with him.

A true martialsword master could fight even when blind, his master had once told him, and at the time, he’d wholly believed such mastery to be nothing but a hoax, an outlandish promise fabricated as a means to motivate, not to actually achieve. Now he realized that statement had more to it than he had originally realized: his body reacted before the axe could even swing in his direction, almost as if he could predict where every move was coming from before it was even committed.

His direct charge leading into a straight jab at its lower stomach was a feint, as he dived to the right and slashed his sword through its side. A line of hissing blood splattered onto the ground as the monster’s returning strike missed, having been thrown astray by the sudden introduction of pain as he performed his maneuver.

“...whelp!” At first, Kandro was nonplussed; where had the voice come from? He looked around to find all the others around occupied in battle. “You will pay for that!” It was deep, hoarse, and clearly directed at him. Then he slowly turned his head to look at the footsoldier, who kneeled on the ground clutching his wound, cut deep into its flesh as Kandro’s sword finally attained enough power to strike with permanence instead of hindrance.

“You can speak...?” Kandro said lowly.

“If not to strike fear into the hearts of you impudent worms before your last breath is taken,” it spat back at him. “I will destroy you! Your pathetic weapon will not best me...!”

“Surprised, are you?” he replied. “It would certainly explain why you’re spending this time talking instead of fighting me...” He trailed off, letting his statement hang liltingly as the jibe enraged the footsoldier.

“You dare insult me?!” it roared, stumbling over as it attempted to stand. “I am one of the first lieutenants sent back to this world to pave the way for our legions, and to conquer your wretched world. We have learned from our mistakes last time, and we will not fail...”

“A lieutenant...” he noted. “Something I can report to Artim later, at least.” No further words were traded as he advanced forward, the tip of the sword grinding against the weathered cobblestone on the ground as he moved in for a strike to the lower extremities. As he brought the sword in to attack, though, he was promptly parried, and twisted around on his feet to segue into another strike to the abdomen.

He was prepared for the imminent counter from the tail, jumping above the appendage and grasping the horns upon the lieutenant. Despite its greater size and bulk, it couldn’t reach its back, and so flailed wildly as it attempted to toss him off. Its tail continuously smashed into its hide, several stabs barely missing Kandro’s own body by mere lengths as he proceeded to slash away at it.

When the tail came off cleanly, he leapt off and rolled as he hit the ground, diving under the a falling strike that carved a jagged indentation into the stone. Kandro stood fast with a solid block when the axe was twisted horizontally with the twist of a wrist, stopping it just against his shoulder, and knocking it away with a violent push back and leaving it exposed.

“This ends... now!” Kandro exclaimed, hewing the arm away from its body, and vaulting forth when it recoiled to feebly nurse its bleeding wound. At the apex of his attack, the Blade of the First rumbled in victory as he sank it into the flesh where the neck and body connected. The lieutenant tripped backwards in its death throes, and its mouth gurgling faintly as he pulled the sword out with a slash across its neck, ensuring death with finality.

The remaining critters surrounding his impromptu arena took notice of the lieutenant’s death, and quickly began to scatter for the gates in retreat. The order members cheered as their battle, one of many throughout the city, had been won, and Rahvan raised his voice with them as they crowded Kandro.

“You did it, my liege!” Rahvan said, saluting to Kandro as the prince recuperated. “You’ve killed their leader! Now, come, let us fall back to the temple. We will reorganize and launch another counterattack from there before they—”

Kandro’s last sight of Rahvan was of him flying away and into a wall as the feeling of being teleported fluttered his stomach. But he was not being teleported, and light enveloped his sight as he suddenly felt as if he were outside of his body, being pulled towards elsewhere.

He closed his eyes and let his mind wander.

Author's Note

Here it is, the next chapter! More backstory into the mythos to come in the next installment.

VIII: Guidance Beyond

C h a p t e r 8 :

G u i d a n c e B e y o n d

Members of our expedition have been saying that the First is still alive. While I don’t put myself on either side of the issue, there have been... disturbing reports of sightings recently. Shapes on the horizon, the scent of death on the winds. The sandrunners are on edge, and I fear that the tomb’s reputation may just as well be true. And if it is, and if these recurring signs grow ever more grim... we all march to our deaths. But our great ruler has placed his utmost trust in us, that we must recover this sacred artifact if our future is to be preserved. Ancestors protect us.

-Unknown writer, from a ledger recovered in the wake of the Lost Expedition’s trail by rangers

“Wake now, Prince Kandro.”

Kandro’s eyes shot open, his breathlessness catching up to him as he heaved in dry desert air into his lungs. The sky was monochrome, the sky white and the sun a most eerie black, and though he felt firm with the dirt underneath his head, the air felt frigid upon his skin. He shuddered as he groggily looked around, his vision blurred by an unknown trauma.

“Good... you’re awake. Stand now, my liege, you aren’t dead yet.”

“Where... am I?” he asked, doing as asked. He began to search for his sword when he realized that it was nowhere in sight, even across the empty vastness of the desert landscape that now greeted his eyes.

The voice chuckled. “Recall now, sire. Think, and you may find that the surroundings that you stand in no different from where you were before. Let not the sand and skies distract you.”

So he did, and he realized that he stood in... Tandreat? So was his assumption, but it was not the City of Hope he remembered seeing before he had fallen unconscious and taken into darkness. No, this Tandreat was... destroyed, ruined, a facet of what unfortunate fate would have fallen upon it had he failed to complete his duty. The City of Hope had naught a single object left standing that could allude to its original state.

“Is this... Tandreat?” he said, his voice low.

“Indeed it is,” the voice replied. “This is a world between worlds, where fate and its strings have no bearing upon the mortal realm. It is a facsimile, one of many, that merely follows a world’s progress to its end.”

“Then what is... this realm, exactly?” he asked. Winds passed across the ground, shifting the sands along and revealing a weathered road that trailed forward. A lone dune stood in the distance, the trail ending just before it. He marched forward, fending off the world’s melancholic tones as he listened.

“It is a place where neither magic nor life exists. As aforementioned, a world between worlds. You may recall this place before, as you have visited once in time, and it was there I first visited you, when our great enemy first revealed his hand.”

“Enemy...?” Kandro said. His mind was suddenly slammed with pain, and he fell to his knees as the rush of memories flooded back all at once. And it was there he remembered: the Trickster, the ghost of Renascence, and his father’s throne. His martialsword, the only facet of color in a world turned grim, and now... a weapon forged by powers beyond those of the gods themselves. “He... the Trickster...!” he gasped out.

“Yes... you remember now,” the voice said, its tone bearing only the slightest tone of satisfaction. Again, Kandro could only catch his breath as he let his conversationalist partner speak. “He lured your dreams to this place, to instill that primal fear into all beings who have gazed upon proof of his malevolence. And when you realized that he had returned... he wiped your mind like grime off a stone slate, and you were ignorant again.”

“He would have returned anyway,” Kandro said, continuing forward. “My knowledge of our meeting could not have done much to alter the events that occurred shortly after I had woken up, after all. And who are you, mysterious host, that speaks to me from the skies?”

“Who I am is of no importance... though I will let your mind be free to assume what it does. Like many, I have been watching you since the world began to unfurl, watching as the young prince began his ascension to the imperial throne. You have much to do, even more to learn, but you soldier on, unwilling to bend your knee to the demons that plague us all.”

“Then what would you have me here for?” he inquired. His boots clicked on the stone as he stepped forward, transitioning into the crunch against sand as he began to ascend the granular incline. His breath escaped as puffs of steam, and the apex of the dune was within his reach.

“You must understand the power you wield now, in your hands.” The ground shook as he reached the top of the dune, and his sword, amidst the glow of ethereal energies, rose from the parting grains before him. A shrill ring echoed past his ears, and he reached out to it. “The Blade of the First... in its namesake, truly the first of its kind. It is the vessel of the empyrean’s energies that will excise the evil from the world.”

“Yes... the First is... this is his legacy, is it not? Such an intricate plan, only now coming to fruition...” He replaced the sword back into its sheath and looked out to the horizon. “Is he alive, stranger?”

“To quash your thoughts, no... the First no longer stands alive in your world. The Blade must be taken to Renascence, where the Trickster’s foul influences must be stricken down before they can be allowed to spread. This is something that you and your companions must do. Seek the aid of the Elements in this task. Together with the Blade, you will vanquish the Trickster forever.”

“You are being frank with me about this... why?” Kandro asked.

“Because you are the hope of all beings upon the face of the earth. The mighty alicorns are powerless before this threat, too far complacent as they are, and so it has fallen upon humanity to take up the sword and end it. I have no secrets to hide from you, and I brought you here because your synergy with the Blade, your first taste of empyrean power, allowed me to pull you here, that I may impart my advice and thoughts in a realm where time is not a restraint.”

“Will the Trickster not see us here? Will he not be aware of our presence?” he said, as his suspicions were voiced. The Trickster had brought him here before. Was this his seat of power? If not, he certainly must have had a grasp of this realm and its nuances to bring him here earlier. Who was to say that the being that spoke to him now wasn’t simply the demon in disguise?

“No, and for that, I must plead that you trust me. I cannot make any promises that I am not the Trickster, but his control here has long since faded. His attentions are now focused upon seeing the end of your world, and I have taken it upon myself to liberate one of these domains. And it behooves you to know that there are a great many more realms such as this... many of these worlds... between worlds. That is why we are safe, for not even one as powerful as he could bear to search through so many. Were it that he was aware of us, that is.”

“Then what else do you wish to instruct me upon?” Kandro asked, shrugging to the sky. “I can hardly imagine as one as intangible as yourself could simply let a mortal carry out a task better suited for his own facilities.”

“I have none else to tell you, for your task is made clear. The only thing I have left to tell you... I... I cannot remember. Curses! My energies wane now, and I cannot maintain a clear focus on keeping you here,” the voice replied arduously. The world began to waver before Kandro’s eyes, making it seem as if he were standing in a painting. “All I can remember is that... that... if your task fails... seek the wall... remember, Kandro... the wall...”

“Wait!” Kandro cried out, frantically stumbling around as he attempted to futilely seek the voice out. “I still have more questions! What is this wall?! What kind of wall is it?! Where is it at?!”

“Wall... remember...” the voice said, fading away.

“I’m... not... done... yet...! What... wall?!” Kandro said through gritted teeth, falling into the depths below him as the ground gave way to darkness. The force of rushing air was all that tore through his body as he plummeted further and further, until the skies were nothing but a pinprick. Only then did he close his eyes, his world falling silent once again.

“He’s awake!” Twilight exclaimed. The huddling group that were skirting the backs of the group began to back away as Kandro opened his eyes. “Prince Kandro, are you okay? You aren’t hurt or anything, are you?”

“Ugh, I’m... fine,” Kandro replied unhappily. “The damned conversation was too brief...”

“I’m sorry?” Twilight asked, but was cut off as Jerrovahn budged in beside her.

“Prince Kandro!” Jerrovahn said, grasping him by the shoulders and exuberantly shaking him in triumph. “You’ve done it! The attack has been routed and the city is safe! Rahvan, unfortunately, is not here, but he brought you back to the temple unharmed.”

“The city is safe...?” Kandro said, rubbing his chin. As fearsome as the power may have been, he sincerely doubted that the death of one lieutenant would have been enough to send the entirety of the assaulting legion running. “Listen, Jerrovahn, I don’t think it would be that easy to repel such an attack...”

“But it is!” came the reply. “Look behind you, my liege.”

Kandro arched his head backwards, staring towards the obelisk behind him. Its decorative features glowed, the sun’s symbol shimmering with a radiant solar energy as a beam streamed past the open roof into the skies and the heavens. And from there, he could see the shield bubble that curved over the city’s height.

“How... did this happen?” Kandro asked.

“It was... something, perhaps, something to do with the sword,” Sehyia said, stepping in with Rarity and Fluttershy to finish bundling his arms in bandages. “It’s amazing, sire. Jerrovahn gave me a relic that channeled such incredible powers, and I found myself able to proficiently deal with these new demons. Your sword’s more prominent energies must have activated the obelisk when you used it.”

“I... did that...?” he muttered in wonder. His hand drifted to his belt, and he found the sword nowhere to be found, and only then did he realize it was placed upon the marbled floor next to him, upon a simple tan cloth. “The sword’s power is... immense. When I triggered it, I fought the lieutenant as if nothing else mattered more in the world. It was surreal... even more so when I passed out.”

“Yes.” Jerrovahn raised his arms high, reverently gesturing to the obelisk. “It produced a grand explosion of energy that stretched through all of the city, purging the chaos beasts that ran through the streets, and created this bubble that now protects us.”

“Passed out?” Reugas asked afterward, leaning against a column beside him. “You were muttering things in your sleep when they dragged you in here, m’lord. Pray tell, what happened when you were unconscious?”

“Things...” Kandro replied. He gave a short gasp of pain as Sehyia tightened his wraps, and he shook his head. “I... it was strange. There was a place, full of nothing but sand, a ruin of Tandreat, and... a voice. He spoke to me, told me of the sword’s powers, and revealed that I’d spoken to the Trickster before.”

“You’ve spoken with him?” Jerrovahn said. “Preposterous!”

“No, not preposterous... I remember the conversation as clear as day. The Trickster was sure that I wouldn’t remember, that he visited me in my dreams to instill fear into my heart. He revealed that he means to end the imperial bloodline, to conquer the world and devour its energies whole. The voice helped me to remember that... and then told me that the sword, in combination with the Elements of Harmony, are both needed to defeat the Trickster.”

“Well, we already know that much,” Reugas said, the end of his statement shadowed by the cries of wounded men as they were cared for by the attending nurses. The pews sat empty as the great temple doors stood shut, guarded by soldiers of the order from outside. “Did he tell you anything else?”

“Yes... there was one thing...” Reugas closed his eyes, frowning as he recalled the fall as the world dissolved around him. “The voice couldn’t stay with me for long. I fear that he may have spent too much energy attempting to keep me within that ‘world between worlds’, as he called it. He told me that, in the case where we should fail, to ‘remember to seek the wall’.”

“A wall?” Artim piped in with pad in hand, having been taking notes of the conversation. “What sort of wall?”

“I do not know. His last two words for me were ‘remember’ and ‘wall’.”

“Yes... that is curious,” Artim said, jotting it down in his pad emphatically as he circled it several times. “I do believe there are several leads for that, but... they are vague at best. Ancestors protect us, and ensure that our plan does not fail, otherwise we’d be sent on yet another wild chase for things long since buried.”

“With such a powerful weapon with us, there is nothing to fear,” Tehin said cheerily. He patted Sehyia on the shoulder, making the blade dancer flinch as he laughed aloud. “See Sehyia here? Jerrovahn’s relic was used on her blade, turned her into a truly deadly butterfly dancing across the field of battle, if the others have explained anything to me.”

“A relic?” Kandro gazed upon Jerrovahn, who was busy digging through a pouch nearby. “What sort of relic, elder?”

“A most powerful one, my prince,” Jerrovahn said. “Though minor, they also contain the essences of the empyrean, and are capable of being infused into weapons to bring out their true potential. Only masters of their craft would even be considered for their use, and the Pillars of the Obsidian Spire more than fit the criteria.” He fetched out four more rocks, tossing them to each of the Pillars who had not yet been anointed with divine strength. “Here, for all of you. May you all strike true with your weapons.”

“Now we’re talking,” Reugas said, approvingly watching as the runed stone absorbed itself into his bow, reshaping it into a resplendent longbow, gold trim and pure white components as gift to his eyes. “It’s larger now, I wonder if—damn!” A shaft of pure energy appeared as he pulled back the string, causing him to release it and fire the bolt straight into the wall, where it embedded itself before fizzling out.

“Try not to kill anyone, will you, Reugas?” Tehin said. He slammed his own stone into his staff, unamused as the only change to occur was a difference in color, now painted with the color of snow. “Well, I can’t say there’s much to look at here...” For emphasis, he realized and lowered his staff, earning himself a surprise when the resulting force cracked the tiles. “Function over form, huh? I can live with that.”

Yhimit, wordless as he was, simply watched as his twin blades molded themselves into their empyrean variants. The hilts appeared as if they were wings, so light and airy as they were when he twirled the weapons around in his hands. With a final approving nod, he stored them in their sheaths, and merely crossed his arms again as he let the final member of their circle ascend their prowess.

And with Artim left, the question was immediately obvious: what could he use his relic upon? As an arcanist, his weapon was innate, the fuel of his magical aptitude that allowed him to cast spells. There was nothing object of steel to mold itself into, no weapon... save for himself.

The relic broke into motes of light, slipping through his fingers as they began to swirl around his head. His eyes glowed and he could only stand idly as they began to imbue him with incredible magic. Even Twilight could only watch, mouth agape, as the energy funneled into his mind, stopping only when he closed his eyes. But by then, it was complete, and the only response the arcanist gave was a nervous chuckle.

“Well, that was... interesting,” he said. He retrieved his pad and quill, which he’d dropped onto the floor when the relic animated itself. “There can’t be much else to change, but if there’s empyrean magic, then...” He disappeared in a crack of heavenly light, appearing on the other side of the hall. “Then I can do this!” He teleported again and again; through the seats of the pews, onto the chandeliers, and behind all the columns, before returning to his original position.

“And that’s not to say there isn’t anything for our pony friends here,” Jerrovahn said. He retrieved a medallion, kept underneath his robe. Removing it from its anchor around his neck, he raised it high towards the light of the obelisk.

“What do we get?” Twilight asked, curiously approaching Jerrovahn, both watching as the energy tapered off of its column, streaming into the medallion. The ponies gasped at the face that appeared as the portal opened up before them. Princess Celestia stared down at them, smiling warmly in her routine greeting.

“Hello, my little ponies,” she said, turning to Jerrovahn. “How interesting. I had completely forgotten that I’d given the Empire access to my solar magic...”

“Greetings, Paragon of the Sun,” Jerrovahn said, himself bowing as the medallion hung unassisted in the air to convey the alicorn. “We haven’t met, but I must say... it is an honor to meet you. I am Elder Jerrovahn, and I am one of your humble followers who maintain the Temple of Dawn, here at the imperial city of Tandreat.”

“It is my pleasure to make your acquaintance, Elder Jerrovahn,” Celestia replied kindly. She looked around the room, her frown growing as she looked upon the wounded at the side of the room, and Kandro sprawled out before her. “Things look dire. How have you fared in your journey so far, Twilight?”

“Things have been... um, dangerous,” Twilight managed to say, her ears flattening against her head. “I can’t really say much, since the humans have been doing most of the work. The monsters here are... terrifying, Princess. Have you fought them before?”

“A long time ago, yes.” Celestia tilted her head in question towards her faithful student. “I’m afraid you will have to learn how to do more than just repel them, Twilight. There was a time when the needs of combat magic were paramount in a unicorn’s education. They’ve long since fallen to the wayside in the curriculum, but it would do you well to learn about it now.”

“I suppose I can aid with that,” Artim said. He walked up, standing next to Twilight and greeting Celestia with a respectful bow. “Well, I’m sure we’ve met already, but I can say that your student is quite the prodigy with defensive magic. Would you believe that we had to rely on her magic to safely guide us through most of our journey?”

“I am pleased to hear that, but perhaps now instruct her in a different school of magic. One that you are well-versed in?” Celestia said hopefully, worriedly adding, “It is for the best, perhaps, that you and all of your friends become acquainted with the dangers of combat, Twilight.”

“I will, Princess,” Twilight confirmed. With a questioning look at Artim, his face, and then his hands, she nervously fidgeted around on her hooves. “Sorry, it’s just that I’m... not really used to hurting anypony. Not... seriously. Or, rather, you know...”

“It must be done, Twilight, and I am sorry that it had to be so. The Trickster will, despite his name, play no games with you. It will be for the greater good that you learn how to fight. Besides... I should say that it is considered a royal duty to be able to know how to fight. Even Blueblood, in his temperament, has learned how to do so.”

“Well, I’m sure she might have had at least some sort of combat training...” Artim said, in hopes that his workload could be lessened. After all, there was never a student of magic who wasn’t interested in playing with fire, right?

“Yeah!” Pinkie piped in. “Back when the changelings invaded Canterlot and we had to stop them, I totally used Twilight as this awesome magical pew-pew blaster thingy! It was great, Twilight can crank out magical bolt flying thingamajigs like I can scarf down a whole tray of cupcakes! Pew pew pew!”

“Anything is a good start,” Artim said, laughing at Pinkie’s exaggerated motions of turning Twilight into a pony-powered deliverer of arcane destruction.

“There is something else,” Jerrovahn said. “And I must implore the Paragon to sift through her mind to find it. The Elements, yes... they are ancient, and powerful. But here, we still have access to the empyrean’s depths.”

“Ah, yes... the infusion technique.” Celestia nodded thoughtfully. “I had used it during the Trickster Conflict, and I see no reason why it should not be used again. Very well, Elder Jerrovahn. Since it seems you are still acquainted with the rituals required to cast the spell, you have my permission to do so.”

“Of course.” Following another bow, Jerrovahn again beckoned the medallion to heed his commands. The Elements of Harmony materialized upon the chests of the ponies, catching all in a sudden moment of surprise before the medallion instilled them each with their own powers. The ponies were lifted above the ground, engulfed in a swirl of pure energies as the infusion began to take place.

Blinding, if there was such a word to describe it, would have fitted the scene best. By the time the ponies’ hooves touched off again on solid ground, the room had been engulfed in pure light for moments too long, but the result was spectacular.

They were all armored, head to tail, in the most glorious battle armor to ever grace a pony within the recent millenium. Transcending even the honorable uniform of the royal guards, their gilded armor was the envy of all who laid eyes upon it, if they had been present at the time. The telltale color scheme of each pony still visited themselves upon each of their armors, making them visually distinct as the ponies gazed upon themselves and at each other in awe.

For Applejack and Pinkie, theirs were the basest: strong plate armor, covering even their legs down to the bottoms of their hooves, and a grand helmet with plumage that made the royal guards’ look like amateur work. The armor was fitted to the things earth ponies were best suited to, and that was feats of strength, though Pinkie Pie may have trouble living up to such deeds.

Twilight and Rarity had the their own, styled faintly in the way that of the unicorn battle mages of old, wearing a hybrid of both robe and armor to facilitate their protection when they were deep within the field of battle. Their hoods carried an open hole for their horns to protrude from, with a mask covering the rest of their facial features.

Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy wore mail that harkened back to the days of Commander Hurricane. Adorning flairs of curling clouds and striking lightning bolts trailed on the sides of their cuirasses, and their helmets were aerodynamically designed, curved ahead of the snout to provide them with maximum speed while allowing their vision to stay focused ahead.

“Now this is awesome,” Dash said, angling around to get a better look at her armor. The others did the same, exchanging comments upon their new wear between themselves and the humans as Jerrovahn and Celestia both looked on, pleased with the outcome.

“Perhaps this will provide you with the edge you need in combat,” Celestia said. “Do not fear the evils that stand before you, my little ponies, but tread carefully, lest you find yourself at their mercy. And I, of all, speak with truth when I say that they do not have any.” She looked aside, nodding to a faint voice near her. “I see. Very well, then. I am relieved to find that you are all fine, but I must leave now. Good luck to you all. You will need it.”

The portal closed, leaving the medallion to drop unceremoniously to the floor, where Jerrovahn then retrieved and donned it around his neck again. His enthusiasm had faded, replaced with an even grimmer expression than before.

“Now that we’ve concluded that business... I’d suppose it would be best to discuss a greater subject of interest.” He looked at Kandro, holding eyes with his gaze as he continued, “We must discuss the voice.”

“Who is the voice?” Kandro asked, pausing to give a gracious nod to the servant who appeared beside him to place a mug of water on the table. “We spoke in the dream, but he seemed... reluctant to let me know of who he was. And then our conversation was abruptly cut short, and then he disappeared.”

“You are the main piece on the playing board,” Jerrovahn said, sitting across from him at the table. The fires crackled in a grand fireplace next to it, with all of them, human and pony, occupying every seat in the room. Security was sparse; only Rahvan stood in the room, wearing the armor he’d been fighting in only hours before. “Many elders and champions have spoken with this voice before. He is ancient... powerful... and clearly does not wish the Trickster to be victorious in this war.”

“Yes, but who is he?” Kandro asked again. “We only spoke briefly, yes, but there was much he did not let me know. There must have been clues that others may have gleaned from discussions longer than mine.”

“Honestly?” Jerrovahn’s lips flattened in neutrality, and he shrugged. “We do not know. Our guesses are as good as yours at this point, but we do sincerely believe it is merely a founder of Lherren, with flesh taken to spirit, guiding us.”

“A founder of Lherren,” Artim said, raising a wrapped finger at him. “But one of the living, or the dead, following the entombing of the First?”

“Dead,” Rahvan answered. “He told me.”

“That singles things out, then,” Twilight interjected. Artim brought out a scroll, unfurling it upon the table between himself and Twilight, and both began to search through it. “It’s unfortunate that the dead ones didn’t have their names recorded in history...”

“Though whether out of request or necessity will never be determined.” Artim shook his head and wrapped up the scroll, replacing it into his travel pack. “So, then that leaves us simply with what you know then, Elder Jerrovahn.”

Jerrovahn chuckled, smiling at him. “Not only us, Keeper Artim. There has been more than one scholar from Lherren’s academies that have spoken with this voice, as well.”

“Agents,” Kandro mumbled.

Jerrovahn caught his whispered word, leaning forward on the table and tilting his head questioningly. “I see that the voice has revealed at least that much to you, it seems,” he said. “Yes, there are agents. What has not been explicitly revealed is just who these agents are, or where they operate.”

“Speaks in riddles, that one,” Rahvan joked.

“Quiet, Rahvan,” Jerrovahn ordered, cutting the champion’s self-approving chuckle short. “We don’t know who these agents are. We’ve searched far and wide, high and low for them, yet could not find a single clue of their existence.”

“Perhaps they’ve long since died out?” Rarity offered.

“Unlikely,” Sehyia huffed. “If recent happenings are anything to go by, this is all their doing. The statues here, the energies, even the Blade of the First.”

“She is correct,” Kandro said. “I believe that when the voice mentioned ‘agents’... if anything, I have to say that they might have shared in the fate of the founder who brought us the message.” He rapped his knuckles against the table as he thought. “I just don’t comprehend what happened. It sounded like he had a lot more to tell me, but was cut short...”

“Perhaps he’ll visit you again in the future?” Twilight said.

“I would hope so. I still have lots of questions for him to answer.” Kandro stared at the wood grain of the table, ignoring the attention upon him. “I will ask him about the First next time.”

A sharp noise punctured the silence. Yhimit had thrown his hands down upon the table, standing in his seat, and seemed entirely... discontent. Wordlessly, he walked around the table, producing a letter in his hands to present to Kandro, with a simple wax seal upon it bearing the decal of the crown.

“What is this, Yhimit...?” Artim asked for them all. Kandro gave Yhimit a suspicious glance, noting that the disciple’s eyes held no malice. He unfolded the paper and laid it flat against the tabletop, and began to read it aloud.

“From the benefactors of the past to the prince of now,” he began. “We greet you from the beyond, young prince. This letter has been passed down through the generations, in the hopes that it will one day reach your hands, received through the hands of our own agents.” He looked back to Yhimit in disbelief. Though already an enigma, the letter had only catapulted his mysteries into unfounded territories. Who was he, really?

Yhimit, as expected, did not answer, instead waving Kandro on by gesturing back towards the letter. “The one that has handed you, as you suspect, is indeed a soldier of the Empire in our employ. Worry not, since by the time this has reached you, our organization has all but been disbanded, forever lost to time like sands in the wind. You have a great task set upon you here, emperor-to-be, so pay heed to what follows.”

“‘Emperor-to-be’?” Tehin repeated. “How did they know that?”

“Prophecies and more asinine hogwash,” Reugas spat, huffing under his breath. “I don’t wish to be a plaything of some greater god’s games. If it were not for our mission and our dire straits, I would have left with nary but a word. We imperials are free-willed, unbound by petty things like fate. We’ve all been played to be fools since it just turns out that was the plan all along.”

“First, and the clearest: you must succeed at your task,” Kandro continued, ignoring Reugas’ outburst. “You must seek out the Trickster at wherever bastion he has now claimed as the stronghold in which he will step out from into the rest of the world. You must travel there as fast as your winds allow it, and vanquish him as soon as possible.

“Second, and trivial at the moment: you are to be emperor now. Learn from the ways of your father and the fathers before him. Be proud. Be strong. Never fail to place trust in the man—and ponies—beside you. You will need their strength and guile in the days to come, for the Trickster’s name belies his true acts: to destroy and consume, not to deceive and mislead. At one time, it has worked on us. It will not work again.

“Third, and the most dangerous, for the rising lord of lords: the First lives, and he watches. He slumbers in the empyrean, blind to the world of the living, yet he expects great things of you. Once there was a time where he believed that he and only he alone could defeat the Trickster, and it was agreed upon that you would deliver his blade to him. No longer is this the case. Now you will wield the blade in righteous fury on his behalf, and with it, you shall bring true peace to our people, once and for all. May your songs echo into eternity... the Brotherhood of the Free Men.”

“Does this mean you’ll speak now, Yhimit?” Sehyia asked.

“Nonsense,” Reugas replied. “If he were to break—or fulfill, doesn’t matter—his oath, don’t you think he would have said what he intended to tell us, not hand a letter off to Prince Kandro?” He gestured to Artim and asked, “You know the disciple better than any of us do. What do you make of this?”

“Honestly?” Artim could only shrug. “I have no knowledge of this. There is nothing, in the entire span of my existence, that ever alluded to the Brotherhood of the Free Men in my studies. And I have studied a great many things, from ancient tomes to royal correspondences, even very recent ones. Yhimit does not lie, though... I’ve never known him to be a liar, and I see no reason why he would begin to now.”

“So he hasn’t broken his oath yet,” Tehin said, absorbed in the current state of affairs as Pinkie handed off a prairie berry fruit tart to him, both enthralled by the scene playing out before them. “Our communication could certainly be made easier if he could speak...”

Yhimit only shook his head, as pulling out another sealed paper... or rather, papers, as they appeared to be a document tied together with string. He handed it off to Artim, who promptly had the object seized out of his hands by Twilight, who then unwrapped it. She smiled at him and wiggled her ears around as she handed it back to himi.

“Telekinesis... quite an interesting talent to have,” Artim noted.

“It’s easy. Maybe I can teach you how to do it, along with other practical magical spells, in return for teaching me how to fight?” she said.

“I feel like I’m the one getting the bargain here,” he replied, laughing as he began to read the papers. “You’re the one that’s going to have the difficulty, I’m afraid. Combat spells are not something to be toyed with, and they most certainly will not be lenient if you fail...”

“I... I can handle it!” Twilight said, her confidence wavering, but only just slightly. “I’ve never failed any test in magic that Princess Celestia has given me. I can work things out. I’ve studied for—”

“Studying cannot help you in this, Twilight, you must know that,” he interrupted. “Like with all things in life, you can only gain—truly gain—experience in this by actually doing it. Studies and books will not help you much, except with letting you know what you must do to cast the spell. Without doubt, I will have the easier time, simply learning how to move books around... and I have some semblance of ability with teleportation.”

“Oh...” Her ears drooped and she looked down at the stone floor. “Well... at least I have someone experienced to teach me, right?”

He laughed, patting her on the head. “That’s the spirit. We’ll make a true defender out of you yet. Now, then, onto business.” With another cursory glance across the room as Yhimit sat down, he began. “This... is a dossier detailing everything there is to know about the Brotherhood.”

“For starters, how about we learn who the hell they are, first?” Reugas suggested.

“A good start,” Artim agreed. He flipped through several pages; all were brimming to the margins with dozens of notes, several of them crossed out or otherwise replaced. Artim’s pace of perusal increased until he reached the end, in which he sighed and lowered his hands. “Sweet ancestors, this thing’s a mess. Did you write this, Yhimit?”

Yhimit merely nodded, and waved him on to continue reading. Begrudgingly, Artim sighed and began anew, muttering something under his breath about unorganized messes and how the Grand Library would never tolerate such discrepancies, before Twilight claimed ownership of the document again through magic.

“I’ll see if I can find it,” she appeased. “I’m good at looking through notes, no matter how messy they might be. Mind if I take a look?”

“Then I delegate this task to you,” Artim said, letting Twilight happily attend to a task she could be a use in as he tilted his head questioningly towards Yhimit. “So, Yhimit... have you been in this Brotherhood for long?” A nod. “How long? Decades?” Another nod. “So it is, then. Such an important organization... masquerading in the shadows. I hope that their efforts weren’t in vain.”

“Are you some kind of an assassin?” Reugas continued, receiving a shake. “Damn. I was sure that you were some sort of mythical figure of terror. You certainly act the part, wearing that mask of yours all the time. Did you make that yourself?” A rapid nod was returned, as if he had been delighted to hear the question. “And your swords?” To their surprise, he shook his head.

“I bet he was some sort of sneaky fellow back in his day, right?” Applejack said, to which a shake came the reply. “Gad-durnit. He looks like the sneaky type, don’t he, Rainbow Dash?”

“Yeah, totally. I mean, uh, he really looks like the kind of guy who can take names and then some,” Dash said, fiddling around with the helmet in her hooves. “But he can’t be all bad, right? I mean, we’re all good guys here... right?”

Tehin released a hearty laugh, snorting as he held back chunks of tart from flying from his mouth as he pointed at Reugas. “Bad? The worst of it is that man over there. He once bet a peacekeeper to a bet that if he could drink him under the table, he could go free—and it was a brother ranger, no less!”

“The ranger knew who I was, and he thought he could stand against me,” Reugas said, giving a half-hearted shrug before taking to his mug. “I won handily, and was allowed to walk free. There isn’t a single soul in the world who could outdrink me.”

“I’ll challenge you to that,” Dash said, flaring her wings as she smacked her hoof into the table. “After we’re all done with this saving the world business.”

“Wasn’t this after you became a Pillar, Reugas?” Sehyia asked; Reugas said nothing, as he already knew the answer, but she pressed on. “Yes, why, I do believe that was after you became a Pillar. At your own initiation party, no less. I should remember, we were all invited.”

“See, you’re in the presence of good company,” Tehin said. “Though I’d have to say that, for future reference, of course, that we simply remain aware and alert for the actions of Yhimit as we continue on our journey.” He looked at Yhimit, then gave a sheepish smile. “No offense, that is.”

Yhimit nodded understandingly, ending the conversation right as Twilight’s mumblings finished and she cried out triumphantly. “A-ha! Okay, I have all the notes compiled in my head now, and I know what we’re looking for!”

“Can she really do that?” Artim asked the ponies with a hint of astonishment. “Just read a book and remember it—” He snapped his fingers. “—just like that?”

“Yep, that is certainly our dear Twilight,” Rarity said, giving a lilting laugh as shades of red began to grow upon Twilight’s cheeks. “Oh, she is organized, but she used to be far... mmm, shall I say, draconian than what she is now. She can devolve into quite the... eccentric when things don’t go her way.”

“Okay!” Twilight nearly shouted, catching herself at the last moment and toned her volume down. “Now, let’s get onto the document, before we all forget, hmm?” A discontent smile was shot towards Rarity, and the fashionista averted her gaze. “For what Reugas asked earlier, we have this: the Brotherhood of Free Men is an ancient order created under the directions of the founders of Lherren.”

“Seems like the founders had their fingers in everybody’s water barrel,” Reugas said. “So we know who they are. What were they created to do?”

“The Brotherhood was given the directive of carrying out the orders given to them by the First, with whom they crafted an intricate plan to deliver salvation to the people of the Empire when the Trickster would return,” Twilight answered. “From this, the original members were the founders themselves, who then branched out and began recruiting men and women of varying backgrounds in order to nurture the fledgling Empire into what it has become today.”

“Good gods,” Artim said. “A guiding hand more powerful than an emperor, and as invisible as a drop of water in the sand... nobody would have ever suspected a thing, and they’ve actually managed to stay hidden for so long! What do you make of this, my liege?”

“I think I’d rather have them amongst my council than pulling me through their plan like some plow through a field,” Kandro admitted. “We do ourselves no favors to continue as divided as we are.”

“Well, that’s a problem, too, because...” Twilight gave a broken laugh, reversing the paper to show Kandro a specific section pointed out by a floating quill: a bullet-point list of names... all of them crossed out with the words ‘deceased’ written next to it as a collective status. “As you can see, they’re all... dead. With exception of Yhimit here, right at the bottom. I suppose the Brotherhood must have died out as the Empire’s time of reckoning drew near, and they didn’t need as many people to carry out what was left of their duties.”

“A shame,” Kandro said simply, shuffling around in his seat as he let out a tired sigh. “Are there any other important details in that document that we should know about?”

“Let’s see... well, a lot of this stuff we already know: the plan, the voice and their own limited interactions with it, and the Trickster’s return. Beyond that, the only other interesting subject in these pages is the study of the magical bleeding effect from the land... and that’s what most of the pages in this document are comprised of. Nothing but notes.”

“I’d like to hear if they’ve found a better solution to our problem than any of us have.”

“As a matter of fact, they do!” Twilight removed a page from the bundle, presenting it to each member of the table before placing it in front of Kandro. “The result of their plan to destroy the Trickster means that a massive outpour of energy would come forth following the dissolution of chaotic center in this world.”

“Just raw energy?” Artim asked, penning his own notes as he dragged the paper to himself. “Impossible. That much raw energy let loose at once would leave nothing but a crater—a massive one, if my assumptions to the level of energies the Trickster commands is true. Why, there’d be nothing left of the Empire except a valley of smoke and ashes!”

“Yes, but as you can see here,” Twilight said, dropping a hoof on yet another erratic compilation of notes, written in red ink, “that’s what the plan intended to happen. In fact, that’s why the plan was made just so, and it’s absolutely amazing how much foresight they had. They intended for the Empire to ask Equestria for help in the first place, and for you to bring back the Elements of Harmony with you!”

“So what happens, then?” Rainbow Dash asked. “We just use our Elements and suddenly the Empire returns to normal?”

“I have to second that,” Reugas said. “I thought that the magic deficiency situation in our land did not have ties to the Trickster beyond the obvious point of being its cause. Now we’re learning that the Brotherhood intends to use the Trickster as a way to saturate our dead lands with magic once again?” He folded his arms and shook his head. “I’ve heard many a solution to that problem, but this has to be the craziest.”

“But it makes sense, wouldn’t it?” Sehyia said. “The Elements are ancient, powerful, and protectors of all that is good. Wouldn’t it make sense for them to take energies from the Trickster and return what was lost to us?”

“Assuming they work, darling,” Rarity said, patting Sehyia’s hand reassuringly. “I’m not sure in my entire history that the Elements have ever been used for something as... grandiose as this before. Mostly, they’ve just been used to pacify or otherwise isolate certain unruly, but dangerous, entities from the world.”

“She does have a point,” Applejack said to Twilight. “Has there ever been any hoo-hah in the books ‘bout the Elements being used to... you know, save the land or anythin’ like that?”

“No, but I don’t think anypony knows about the potential of the Elements... and I don’t think even Princess Celestia truly knows what they can do, either. They’re older than Equestria itself, and certainly older than her and her sister,” Twilight said. She anxiously jabbed a hoof at her chest ornamentation, frowning at her distorted reflection in the crystal’s violet facets.

“It says here that the Elements are supposed to harness and convert the chaotic energies from the Trickster back into its harmonic form, and from there, infuse the land with life-sustaining energies again,” Artim said. Upon the detailed chart were six symbols: each the cutie marks of the Elements of Harmony, and above them sat an arrow that pointed towards a runed sword. “The marks of destiny... and the Blade of the First. Only both together are they capable of doing this...”

“Oh, I’ve seen something like this before,” Twilight chimed in. “It’s source replication magic! Usually it’s done with enchantments, which in themselves are already quite rare in Equestria, but this is magnificent!”

“Sounds like we’re going to need a run through for this,” Kandro said.

Twilight tapped her chin with a hoof, nodding thoughtfully as she began to scrap together an impromptu lesson plan within the depths of her mind. “So... it goes like this. We all know how the Empire’s lands are losing their magic because it’s bleeding off, right? We also know that the Trickster has been the one causing all of this, sapping it away and using it for his own gain. So this plan is essentially a reverse version of how the process work.

“The Trickster’s own raw magic can’t be used to revitalize the lands, as the energy that he’s already taken has been converted to its chaotic equivalent. That would mean that any attempt to bring magic back to the lands without eliminating the Trickster would only fuel him with even more power.”

“So no matter what we could have done, it would have been doomed to begin with,” Kandro said grimly. “Continue.”

“That’s why the Blade was first created, and then maintained across generations, Prince Kandro,” Twilight said. With the ring of steel, Kandro unsheathed the Blade, and held it high before his eyes. “See, the runes on the Blade even match what was inscribed on the paper! The runes are a catalyst for empyrean energies to take form, and from that, the source replication spell comes into play. Normally, the spell requires an extremely pure source in order to function. That’s why the runestones that Elder Jerrovahn gave to the Pillars won’t work for this sort of spell.”

Jerrovahn was intrigued by this. “What if we could amass enough runestones to produce a pure sample?” he asked. “Assuming that we had access to enough of the relics to compare in power to the Blade, that is.”

Twilight shook her head. “It won’t work. The source replication spell requires the purity of the catalyst to be just that: pure. A bunch of runestones won’t work because they’re all imperfect essences of the empyrean, and in result, would produce exactly that: an impure, fragmented magic that would be easily overridden by the Trickster’s unrefined chaotic magic. We need a pure source to act against it, so that’s why the Blade is needed.

“That’s why it’s so ingenious that they’ve managed to put the Blade of the First right where it needs to be! Now we have access an object that is not only an origin for a pure source, but the very first of its kind! The Elements are ancient magical artifacts capable of channeling the ultimate harmonies possible, so it can refine and magnify that result using the blade’s magic and tether to the empyrean!”

“And from there... return the magic that we’ve lost to where it belongs and allow us to be rid of the Trickster, in one fell swoop...!” Artim finished. “Excellent explanation, Twilight, I have a feeling that you’d be well-liked by my colleagues at Lherren.”

Twilight blushed. “Aw, thanks. It wasn’t too hard. I mean, they wrote it all down on the paper there, but I figured it would be easier to digest in verbal form. In any case, we know what this is supposed to do! All that’s left now is to get to Renascence.”

“Will Tandreat be safe, Elder Jerrovahn?” Kandro asked.

“It will be safe so long as our temples stand,” Jerrovahn replied. With a clap of his hands, the doors to the room opened again, revealing the serene halls as a cool breeze began to drift in. “It would be recommended for all of you to get some rest now. You all deserve it, and you’ll need it when you return to your journey tomorrow.”

“Thank you for your hospitality,” Kandro thanked him. They all rose to leave, but Kandro was the last to follow, taking the time to replace his weapon before heading out. With his adrenaline no longer fueling the vigor that came to him in combat, there sat only a lethargy in its place, coupled with the returning burden of his task that weighed heavily on his mind. Sleep, he figured, would be the reprieve that he’d long sought since the day first began.

“Somethin’ on your mind, sugarcube?” Applejack asked. Kandro, caught off guard by her sudden appearance, jerked his head towards the open balcony door as he stood past the city’s roofs and streets and the valley beyond.

“Well, I’d say...” He stopped and frowned, letting his gaze fall further down to the courtyard that sat in front of the dormitories they now stayed in. The others had long since fallen asleep, the faint sounds of snoring casually drifting through the air, but he couldn’t put his mind to rest. “Thinking, again, as usual.”

“Thinkin’ of your family?” Applejack, minus her trademark hat, trotted up next to him, rearing onto her hind hooves and leaning over the balcony. “Shoot, this place’s far more fancier than anythin’ I’ve ever seen in Manehattan...”

“No, it’s not them this time, though I still am very concerned about them...” He closed his eyes and inhaled the dry desert air, feeling the breeze course through his nightwear robes. “Long ago, long before my father or his father’s fathers had ever taken up the throne, back shortly before the time of the First... they said that these lands used to be green.”

“Green?” Applejack remained silent for a moment, sharing in his disbelief. “It all just looks so... dry now. You mean there used to be trees and grass all over the place?”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “From what little we have managed to recover about our past from that period pertaining to land and cultivation, yes. There were trees and grass, ponds and rivers, and much more, decorating the valleys and the hills that make up most of our lands. Despite our task growing ever tougher, it calms me to know that the day that we can see such curiosities again draws near.”

“Was it like Equestria back then?”

“Maybe. It will be nice to see if the history was true in my lifetime,” he replied. “Perhaps I should ask Yhimit whether or not the Brotherhood ever kept any historical texts from the lost ages. Such secretive groups usually aren’t without their scholars.”

“It’ll be a good step in the right direction, that’s fore sure,” Applejack said, yawning loudly as she began to step back inside. “Gettin’ a bit tired now... thanks for the chat, Prince Kandro, but I think it’s best we both hit the hay. G’night!”

“Good night,” Kandro said, watching her disappear back into the living room and hearing the sound of her bedroom shut before turning back. The moonlight seemed to glow ever more brighter this night, and it was almost as if he could feel Luna’s presence watching over them, even now... though the thought that she actually was watching them certainly wasn’t out of reach, given how they’d spoken to Celestia only hours earlier.

The columns of smoke had dwindled down, thanks in part to the directed efforts of the militia after the demons had retreated. The walls still stood strong, with lighted beacons indicating that every watchtower was still manned, and the sight of torch-bearing guards walking along the lengths of the walls reminded him that the duty to protect the Empire did not only stop at him.

He parted the balcony with a lingering glance, passing through the darkened living room and into his own bedroom, located in the corner just near the balcony. It was only then that after he settled himself into bed that he saw that the Blade of the First, stored within its sheath and tucked in at the corner, was... humming. It was not the sort of ambient hum that one could only pick up over the general nighttime noises; it was literally humming... and glowing, it seemed.

The point at where the hilt met the sheath glimmered with the smallest tints of golden light, tapering off just when he began to rise to examine it. He sat in silence for several minutes, eyeing the weapon for any further curious outbursts, eventually relenting and shaking his head, returning to his slumber. The Blade never acted up again that night.

Unbeknownst to Prince Kandro, however, he was not the last one awake. Two rooms over, a light spilled out from underneath the door, as he was not the only one that was troubled by restless thoughts...

Author's Note

This chapter was 95% complete when I returned to taking classes. Unfortunately, they are indeed quite tough, and I finally found some time today to finish it up and prep it for release. I hope you all enjoy it.

IX: Return to Renascence

C h a p t e r 9 :

R e t u r n T o R e n a s c e n c e

...and they built this from the strongest stone they could find, infused it with what magic they had and piled it as high as they could. The walls have withstood the tests of time: through the years since it has been built, we have seen our share of battles against demon and griffon, and they will soon withstand the tests of chaos, when the Trickster returns. Soldiers will man the towers and fight with skill and fervor as the chaotic legions run rampant upon them. But no matter what, there is but one truth that we can always count on: Renascence may one day be lost to us, but its walls will never fall.

-The Protectors, General Tiraen, 1507 RY

“Once we get over this dune, the final stretch to Renascence will be within our grasp,” Kandro shouted. The sandrunner heaved in staggered breaths as the dust storm they had soldiered through began to fade, revealing the faded path they followed amid the grains of sand whisked away by the wind.

Kandro pulled off his protective mask, switching it out with his helmet as he gripped his reins in left hand, the right gripping the hilt of the Blade even tighter. The weapon seemed to vibrate with purpose, knowing that they were riding straight into the heart of the danger that plagued the Empire.

“There, look!” Reugas said, pointing to the sky. The skies above Renascence swirled with chaotic energies, black and twisted as its reach only seemed to spread outward, slowly, as the Trickster regained his power. A chilling breeze stung at their faces as eldritch lightning cracked across the skyline. “Ancestors protect us...”

“Land sakes! We’re ridin’ into that?!” Applejack called out, clinging tightly to Kandro.

“That we are!” Kandro said. They arced over the dune, seeing the tufts of green flanking them on their path as they entered the fringes of Renascence: the fertile farmlands that provided the city with its bounty. The faded red walls of Renascence loomed in the distance, cracked and damaged as flocks of demons crowded at its parapets to strike at the defenders stationed in its towers.

“I can see the eastern gates from here,” Reugas said. “They’ve been barricaded... from the outside. Tiraen must be trying to stop them from getting out.”

“The portal hangs above the Capital Spire,” Artim said. “There is a good chance that they are proliferating from the center of the city outwards, if they are not already able to appear anywhere in the city at will. We can only expect their reach of materialization to expand as the maelstrom grows. Soon they will begin to appear outside the walls, and by that point, the city will have already been lost.”

“Then we must convene with General Tiraen,” Kandro said. Though the city held the greatest military presence in all of the Empire, the peripheries beyond the walls of the city were disturbingly devoid of any life. What few homesteads they had passed as they continued towards Renascence stood eerily quiet, with the exception of one that had been burnt to the ground.

The sight of guardhouses up ahead slowed their pace: the checkpoint had been hastily set up, no doubt to monitor the growing threat when the maelstrom first appeared. The entrenchments had been built facing the city, a mix of heavy boxes and carved spikes to deter any charging cavalry. Signs of a battle were present, with much of the dirt caked in broken shards of steel and dried blood, but with no bodies.

Kandro and his company took in the sight wholly, the ponies balking away from the sight with Fluttershy taking it the worst; the pegasus couldn’t bear to witness the carnage and hid away behind Yhimit. Tehin uttered a quiet prayer for them, and Reugas quietly mentioned the lack of civilian bodies, and that this checkpoint must have been cleaned by Tiraen’s men, else the corpses still would have remained.

They continued on, taking a right turn on the next intersection they approached and rode north, towards the Roaring River and Fort Renot. Two more derelict checkpoints showed that they were on the right path, destruction increasing in factors with flattened barricades and ashes of guardhouses as they continued towards the fort. “I certainly hope Tiraen is still alive...” Reugas said.

“He is a hardy man,” Tehin replied. “He will have entrenched himself within Fort Renot as a last resort.” The mountainous features of Renot grew in the distance, its citadel towering as high as the Capital Spire in Renascence, smoke and fire scarring every level of its battlements. Trebuchets upon the tower tossed projectiles into the air to deter their aerial assailants. “And it would seem that I am correct.”

“What’s the plan once we get to the general, anyway?” Dash asked, clinging to her helmet as she flew above Reugas.

“We ascertain whether or not my mother and her bodyguards are still alive,” Kandro responded. “If they are, then we help them escape. If not... then, we move onto our primary objective: to reach the top of the Capital Spire and seal away the chaotic energies spilling into our world.”

“So how would that work, exactly?” Reugas asked, looking at Dash and her red lightning bolt element chestpiece. “How do these elements function? What kind of magic do they use?”

“Just leave that to me,” Twilight said. “Together, we can use the Elements of Harmony to channel its magic into any form we need them to be. I guess in this case, I’ll have to focus a beam into the sky and hope that it’ll destroy the chaotic magic.”

“You hope?”

“I don’t know, okay?” Twilight shook her head uncertainly. “We’ve... we’ve never dealt with something this serious before. This sort of magic is just... terrifying. It’s like you can feel the evil from it in the air. Nightmare Moon and Discord were nothing compared to this... that’s why I can’t really say for sure that this will work.”

“For all our sakes, it will,” Rarity said. “Have faith, darling, we do have aid, after all.”

“Quiet now,” Artim said, hanging his head low as blackened shapes began to circle above them. He clenched his fists as the sparks of lightning began to dance across his fingers. “Twilight, I need your shield again. We have company.”

“Bloody demons...” Reugas said, notching an arrow and pointing his bow into the air. Rainbow Dash descended, fumbling with her balance as the sandrunner’s tail flicked against her armor, but successfully grabbed onto the ranger’s back. “Not ready to test your mettle, hmm?” he joked.

“I think I’ll pass for now.”

“We are close to Fort Renot now, only a while longer!” Artim said. Casted bolts flashed from his hands into the air above, felling a demon as the electricity spread to its kin. Echoing thumps reverberated against the dome as their numbers increased, ugly maws slamming into the transparent barrier in an attempt to carve their way through.

“There are too many of them!” Kandro said. The route ahead became obscured by the creatures’ black hides and flapping wings, choking out what remaining elements of sunlight that illuminated their passage. “Artim, can you do anything else?” he asked.

“Not unless you’d like to take the fight to them with your sword!” came the reply. The shield began to echo shrilly with the scattered noise of chipping. It began to flash as Twilight screamed with sustained effort, but it wasn’t enough.

“Prince Kandro... is right!” she coughed out. “There’s... too many... of them!”

Kandro, Tehin, and Sehyia preempted the failure of the shield by drawing their weapons right as the bulwark failed. The violet glow separated itself into hundreds of miniature triangles, lines between them glowing with energy still being channeled from Twilight’s horn, and with an ear-shattering roar, parted explosively. The demons screeched with triumph and delved into the opening breach, claws and teeth bared to tear into flesh.

“Shit!” Reugas cursed, loosing his arrows at a blinding pace as the creatures all swarmed towards them.

“I’m sorry, guys!” Twilight apologized.

“Don’t take it too hard, I don’t think any shield could handle this many of them, anyway!” Kandro replied. He drew the Blade, jabbing forward and impaling a demon by its eye around the steel, tossing it aside as he curved around for another strike.

“Oh, no!” Rarity shouted. “Away, you uncouth beasts, away!” Her magic flared around her horn, glowing a brilliant blue before—

“By the First!” Sehyia shouted, blinded by the powerful light emanating from Rarity’s horn. “Rarity! What’s going on?!”

“I-I don’t know! Eee-yah!” Rarity said, unleashing her magical beam and slicing through the air with supercharged energy, obliterating any hapless demon caught in its path with pure harmonic energies. “My goodness! Did... did my element just do that?” she ended, grimacing as meaty bits of dead demon from those who had been caught at the sides of the blast came tumbling down.

“The Elements of Harmony!” Kandro said. “The Elements must be doing something to your magic. Twilight, see if you can replicate what Rarity just did!”

“On it!” Twilight shut her eyes and focused, replicating Rarity’s result. With a shriek of her own, another column of energy, this one a deep purple. The cawing flocks scattered, giving the group breathing distance as they shared in the revelation. “This... is amazing! The Elements are capable of helping us fight!”

“Yeah, for unicorns, maybe,” Dash said. “What about the rest of us? Me and Fluttershy? Or Pinkie and Applejack? We can’t shoot magic beams out of our foreheads.”

“Well, use it again! They’re coming back in!” Kandro said, losing control of his sandrunner as a demon climbed onto its back. Applejack screamed and flailed wildly, striking the demon square in the face with a well-placed hoof to its snout, followed by another sharp snap and burst of light.

“Hold on, Pinkie!” Tehin shouted, his sandrunner evading the rolling body as the mount seemed to huff in amusement. Pinkie squealed in excitement, leaning back and forth as the wind swished through the tuft of mane sticking out underneath her helmet and the length of her tail. “There is a time for cheer, Pinkie, but this is not it! Duck!”

“Eek!” Pinkie reacted, mirroring Tehin’s movements as they both ducked and another demon bounced over them. “Oh, no, you don’t!” she said, reaching over her back and revealing a hidden portable party cannon sticking out of a parcel on her back, blasting a demon point-blank with colorful party accessories. “Eat streamers, you big meany-pants!”

Ahead, Applejack’s random hoof-flinging worked wonders as Kandro’s sandrunner remained protected from behind, with Rarity and Twilight offering their support with their magic. Only Fluttershy, who still clung to Yhimit for dear life, and Rainbow Dash, who did the same with Reugas but with guarded reluctance instead of fear, had yet to join the battle.

“There’s no end to these damnable things, is there?” Reugas said, firing a triplet of arrows into the air and earning himself a trio of kills. “Fort Renot is up ahead! Only a while longer!”

Through glimpses between attacks, Kandro could see the Reugas was right: whoever still remained in the gatehouses must have taken notice of their approach, as Fort Renot’s gargantuan gates began to slowly open. Shadows of figures darted out from the entrance, whisking towards them until he realized that they were soldiers. And not only soldiers... but also arcanists.

“Rangers!” Reugas said, joined by his comrades in the hunt as arrows and lightning around them grew in magnitude. The arriving soldiers, each with a ranger and arcanist on sandrunners, split two and two and curved around, drawing the throng away and dwindling their numbers down before rejoining them at their rear.

“Greetings again, Prince Kandro!” the point rider said, the defenders on the walls taking over the attack as the demons began to peel off and retreat to the skies above Renascence. “You’ve made it back, and just in time, I might add!”

Reugas peered closely at his fellow ranger as they rode alongside each other. “Tyermos? You’re here at Fort Renot?” he asked.

“Correct,” Tyermos responded. “General Tiraen issued a call to arms to all legions west of Renascence after I notified him of your return. No sooner had we all assembled under his command did the demons launch their attack. Even now, the Crown Legion fights tooth and nail to keep control of Renascence while the Western and Southern Legions work to secure its walls.”

“But Fort Renot burns, does it not?”

“Merely the consequence of allowing arcanists on the walls, lord ranger. Their skills are needed to fend off the worst of the attacks. We have already encountered several of the Trickster’s heavy foot soldiers over the course of the invasion, but we are not without our own skilled warriors.”

“Yes, the foot soldiers,” Kandro said, slowing down to traveling on Tyermos’ opposite side. “We’ve already run into one at Tandreat. It was leading the assault on the city. I defeated it myself, but not without considerable effort. How many have you defeated already?”

“Dozens,” Tyermos said, pulling off his mask and hood and looking to the prince with a grim expression. “And we traded that much and more in number for each we killed. Without Emperor Nazhrus’ personal guard able to take the brunt of their attacks at the Capital Spire and the combined numbers of three whole legions to hold the city, Renascence would have fallen the moment the attack began. Captain Ghiraza himself felled at least half a dozen of the monsters.”

“Ghiraza is still alive?” Kandro said, fully surprised though he wasn’t sure whether it was towards the fact that the old captain was still fighting instead of commanding from afar, or that he had somehow survived—and was still surviving—the gauntlet of enemies at the Capital Spire.

Tyermos nodded. “Yes, and his sword hand is still as deadly as it was in his greatest years. Empress Aleyia awaits you with General Tiraen at Fort Renot’s keep.” They passed through the gates as the call went up to begin shutting the heavy doors. Sandrunner claws grinded against the dirt as they skidded to a stop, and Tyermos was the first off his, awaiting Kandro as the group took the time to recuperate. “I’ve been instructed to take you to them.”

“Fine. Time is of the essence. Does General Tiraen know we travel with the bearers of the Elements of Harmony?”

Tyermos scoffed, joined in by the similar mumbles of agreement by his comrades and the arcanists he brought with him. “He knows. He expected more than six neophytes sent with fancy baubles around their necks and armor that would only impede an inexperienced civilian in a field of battle. We know otherwise. Any aid we receive at this point is a godsend."

“He expects too much, to have the Paragon abandon the well-being of her own territories to rush to the aid of ours,” Kandro said, amused at the general’s assumption. “Perhaps we may still persuade him of the effectiveness of the Paragon’s replacements. Take us to him.”

“Does the general even realize that these ‘fancy baubles’ he speaks of are the Elements of Harmony?” Rarity thought aloud. Faint rumbles shook the plain stone hall they passed through, and a shower of dust fell upon them from the ceiling. Kandro led them along, face furrowed in determination as they approached General Tiraen’s war room.

“Yeah, what’s his deal, anyway?” Dash said. “It’s like what that ranger guy said: he’s lucky that he’s even getting any help at all! We already know that the Trickster can summon his guys anywhere he wants, even in Equestria!”

“General Tiraen is a man that demands results,” Tehin said from behind her. “We fight on the same side, but his approaches to solving problems is different from ours. Whereas the Pillars and those fighting in the royal service adopt patience and observation, Tiraen and the legions rely upon swiftness of action with conclusive results.”

“So he expects us to stop the Trickster cold in his tracks?” Dash said. “Or actually, he probably expected Princess Celestia to be the one to stop the Trickster cold in his tracks...”

“Essentially,” Sehyia said. “I’ve never met the general personally, only fought under his command, but he does hold much respect among the legions. He values practicality. Perhaps Prince Kandro can persuade him that we may still have a chance of winning.”

“What’s the worst that can happen?” Applejack asked. “He can’t stop us from gettin’ into the city, can he?”

“If he doesn’t believe you are capable of rising to the task, he will order a complete evacuation,” Kandro said. “We will retreat elsewhere, most likely Lherren, where we will plan a defense using whatever we have at our disposal. And perhaps he will arrange training for all of you, in the ways of war and combat magic, I expect, so that when the time comes, you will be suitably ready for the task.”

“So, what, we get trained like royal guards? That ain’t so bad.”

“Your reputation will precede you. Tiraen will no doubt have the finest arcanists, Artim among them, to train Twilight and Rarity in magic, with Tehin and Reugas to head up your physical training.” He paused, then added, “They’ve all trained their fair share of recruits, and they aren’t known for being lenient with their regimen.”

“Training a pegasus to fight?” Reugas said, voice laden with the tone of bemusement. “I don’t think our experience covers that criteria. We don’t even have wings, for ancestors’ sake.”

“Worry about it if it comes to that, Reugas,” Kandro quietly said. Tyermos led them quietly along as they approached a pair of spear-wielding guards, standing vigil at the entrance. They gravitated towards each other, pulling the doors open to let them enter.

“This is my stop,” Tyermos said, stepping aside and giving a bow to him as they entered. “Good luck, my lords.”

“Thank you, Tyermos.”

General Tiraen leaned over the war map, face marred by a scar that trailed diagonally across his patrician face, from his left eye to right cheek. His armor was made of golden plate, accessorized by the cloth he wore above it with the seal of the Empire, white iconography on pure red. He looked up with a scrutinizing eye, the corner of his lip raising in acknowledgement of Kandro’s arrival, between fluctuating from an acknowledgement of authority to the faintest hints of a sneer as the ponies began to fan out with the Pillars.

“Greetings, Prince Kandro,” he said with a gravelly voice, standing and saluting as he looked upon each of the Pillars, then moving onto the ponies with an inquisitive expression. “So, you promised me aid, did you not?”

“Yes,” Kandro replied smartly. “The Paragon has seen fit to send the bearers of the Elements of Harmony here to the Empire, so that we may stop the return of the Trickster before it reaches a critical point.”

“I don’t mean to offend, my prince,” Tiraen said, trailing his way around the table towards Kandro. The gilded sword on his back became plain for all to see: its sheath was nowhere to be found, but the point of the blade hanging away from his back was still stained with demonic ichor. “But this situation has already reached a turning point. These ponies that the Paragon has sent us are not fighters. They cannot be expected to be resilient, ferocious, and unyielding.”

“They have faced evils before. It may surprise you to know that in the years following the Reformation, the Protector of the Night was taken by darkness. Through the actions of these six, only recently was she was brought back to the light.”

“Did they fight through legions of heartless foes to reach their goal?” Tiraen immediately asked.

“Actually... no,” Twilight answered. “But she did try to—”

“Then you are not yet ready to face the Trickster.” Tiraen’s frown disappeared as his expression softened, and he scratched his beard in thought before continuing. “You must understand, Prince Kandro. I am sure you hold these ponies in good faith, but I have men dying out there by the dozens. I will not force them to stay in this city any longer than I have to. We only stayed as long as we did now to evacuate Empress Aleyia and the nobles from the Capital Spire after we finished with the civilians.”

“And what are you doing now?”

“Stalling,” he replied. “Or we were. I received news from the ranger Tyermos notifying me that aid was being sent to us from the Paragon. Only too late did I actually bother to inquire further and learn that it was not the Paragon herself, nor any of her legions. Instead, we get six. Six ponies, all new-bloods to this strife and with nary a hard-fought victorious battle to their own names, not ridden on the coattails of the Empire’s finest warriors.”

“Give us time. We can succeed,” Artim said. “They have shown much promise with the Elements of Harmony already. With the Pillars guiding the way to the Capital Spire, we need only to reach the apex of the palace to deliver harmonic magic to the heart of the maelstrom, and we will have won.”

“I’m not the one you have to convince.” Tiraen folded his arms and looked pointedly behind them, as a woman adorned in imperial robes entered the room. Kandro’s eyes lighted up and he immediately rushed to her.

“Mother!” he said, gripping Aleyia by the shoulders and checking her over for any injuries. “Are you okay? You aren’t hurt, are you?”

“I am fine, Kandro,” she replied, smiling warmly at the ponies. “Oh, I never thought I would see the day when ponies would visit the Renascent Empire. Nazhrus has been adamant in keeping the ponies out of our problems with the magical droughts...”

“We were simply across the mountain range,” Rarity said. “If you required help, I am sure that Princess Celestia would have been more than happy to aid you.”

Aleyia’s smile curved lower, and she sadly replied, “Such is the nature of the Empire. Against something truly as great as the Trickster, who threatens the world, we seek aid, but our own domestic problems that concerns our future as a nation, we simply are too stubborn to yield to common sense.”

Aleyia composed herself, walking around the war map to where Tiraen had originally been standing. With graceful skill, she folded her drooping sleeves, decorated in flowers and golden trim, around her arm, and leaned over the table to point at the Capital Spire. “Your father was buried only several days ago at the palace mausoleum, on the fifth level of the Capital Spire. His procession was somber, and without flair...” She shook her head and withdrew her arm. “We only completed the ceremony when we were attacked.”

“I’m sure if he had the choice, he would have sprung from his coffin and grabbed his sword to fight with us,” Kandro said. “Father was always the magnanimous ruler, unwilling to let his subjects suffer in isolation. Even if he would never agree to letting our saviors help us reclaim our land.”

“Yes, he would have,” Aleyia said, smiling to herself at the recounting of her husband’s character. “But now we hold the Capital Spire to stall time for us.”

“We may leave as soon as possible, Empress,” Tiraen said respectfully. “The arcanists will have certainly finished vacating the Imperial Archives of its contents by now. We can order a retreat and immediately set off for Lherren before we are overwhelmed.”

“Wait, that’s what you were stalling for?” Artim said, stepping forth with a frown and a fire in his eyes. “The Imperial Archives are centuries old! The arcanists need to preserve its knowledge for future generations. Political decrees, economic annals, family trees, and much more! You cannot simply expect the arcanists to leave when you so order. We are sworn to preserve the knowledge of the Empire, and we will not leave a single scroll or tome to ruin at the hands of the Tricksters’ minions!”

“Calm yourself, Artim,” Tiraen said, assuaging Artim with a raised hand. “The Great Library has already accepted our request to house all of the archives. The Imperial Archives have been mostly cleared out, with only several wings of books yet to be relocated. Captain Ghiraza is in charge of the protection detail.”

“Yes,” Aleyia confirmed. “Do what you must to quell the maelstrom. Ascend to the top of the Capital Spire, dispel the chaos, and return to the ground. In the case where you do not succeed, Captain Ghiraza and his men can aid you with your escape from the city.”

“Wait.” Tiraen turned slowly to look at Aleyia. “The Trickster’s influence continues to spread. There is no promise that they will be able to fight their way through Renascence and destroy the maelstrom in time! Once they are capable of spawning within the confines of Fort Renot, it will be too late.”

“But we still have time,” Aleyia replied. She looked down to the map, taking note of the aquatic landmark separating Fort Renot from Renascence. “Tell me, general, how far does their influence stretch?”

“At the moment, they’ve only just made it to the city watch headquarters, in the commercial district here,” he said, pointing to the northern sector of Renascence, right next to the district’s fabled market square. “It has been a while since the scouts have reported in, but with this information, that puts them roughly halfway from the center of the city.”

“Far slower than I had anticipated,” Aleyia said with a nod. “Then we still have time. Go, Kandro, take the ponies and the Pillars. You do not have much time. Find Captain Ghiraza, notify him of your intention to ascend the Capital Spire. Whether or not you succeed, when the beasts reach the walls, we will leave.” She looked to Tiraen. “We will need a staggered fallback through the city. Have the Western and Southern Legions retreat to protect their domains. The Crown Legion will retreat north to Lherren.”

“Where is the Northern Legion, anyway?” Reugas said.

“Watching the north, clearly,” Tiraen stated. “Dire times like these are when we are the most vulnerable. We cannot let the griffons take advantage of that, lest we end up fighting two wars, or perhaps simply one, should the fools re-declare their allegiance to their old master.” He looked at Aleyia with a disapproving glare. “I hope that this plan succeeds. I have men stationed at the commercial district as well as the residential ones adjacent to it, and they are stretched thin as it is trying to maintain Ghiraza’s route of escape. But I suppose your plan is sound, Empress. I will send runners to notify the other legions.”

“Thank you,” she said with a thankful nod of her head. She looked to the Pillars and the ponies. “Do stay safe, all of you. It would be a travesty for the Empire should we lose our finest warriors—” And as she looked upon the ponies, admiring their simple forms, colorful coats and flowing tails and manes, and the resplendency of their armor. “—and our venerated allies.”

“I would spare some men to send with you, if I could,” Tiraen said. “But the majority of the Crown Legion is in Renascence, with the remainder stationed here at Renot. Your path to the Capital Spire should be unobstructed: the main thoroughfare that goes straight from Fort Renot’s bridge to the center of the city is guarded at intervals by checkpoints.”

“That will be fine. Anything else we should know?” Kandro asked.

“Yes, and that particular bit of news is that we’ve heard that there is a new creature that has only just arrived at the Capital Spire. Far larger than anything we have ever fought so far. The scouts tell me its roars made their blood run cold and the earth shook with every step it took. Seeing as how we haven’t had any tremors since it arrived, it must be waiting at the top of the Capital Spire.”

“It would have helped if you had mentioned this from the beginning.”

“I had hoped that you would not be so adamant upon reaching the Spire,” he said apologetically. “But I have a hope—a foolish hope, perhaps—that you will succeed. The creature has taken up residence behind the palace. I have no further information to report until my scouts return, but you will find it there.”

Kandro sighed. “Waiting for us. We’ll deal with that as we come to it,” he said, gripping the handle of his sword. The Blade vibrated in anticipation of the coming battle. “I only pray that it doesn’t see fit to come to us when we enter the city.”

“I’m just saying. If what Applejack said was right, then maybe both me and Fluttershy can help out a bit, you know? I can fly and send some of those suckers packing, at least, keep those flying demons off of your backs,” Dash said, hopping across a crack on the bridge’s cobblestone, avoiding the precarious fall to the flowing river beneath.

“Just make sure to stay out of the way of my arrows and we’re good,” Reugas said, attending to his trio of quivers. A short stop to the armory had ensured that he would be prepared, though he looked to Sehyia with curiosity. “I’ve yet to truly flex my empyrean muscles with the usage of this relic. How does it trigger again?”

“For one, it’s not to be used for frivolous escapades,” Sehyia replied, tone jabbing at Reugas’ normally whimsical antics. She drew her sword, whirling around with a flourish of her ebony skirt, and reappeared behind Reugas with her shimmering blade as his throat. “And it senses it. Knows it. It does not want to be used as a plaything, Reugas.” She sheathed her sword and threw him a haughty look as she stepped ahead of him, looking over her shoulder “Jerrovahn said that the relics were only assigned to the best, because only they could use it. I guess your relic doesn’t seem to think of you as such.”

“What...” He stared stupidly at his bow for a moment, ignoring the snickers that the ponies shared and a hearty guffaw from Tehin. He gripped his bow with both hands, shaking it while grumbling, “I’m the best, you hear? The best damn ranger in all of the Empire! I can place sixteen arrows on the same spot at two hundred paces!”

“It’s all about the professionalism, Reugas,” Artim called out to him. They passed by a row of wooden barriers, erected hastily and reinforced with broken wagons and scrap metal. A pair of distraught soldiers, huddling behind the barricades with their swords and shields, gave them a look of disbelief—at the prince traveling with the Pillars and ponies, the most curious company—as they strolled by.

“I’ve got plenty of... professionalism,” Reguas said slowly. “You just have to not act like a flaming idiot most of the time, right?”

“Uh, wait, my lords,” one of the soldiers said, leveling his helmeted head higher so they could see him. The group stopped, and Kandro turned to look at him. “Apologies, my lords, lady, and... er, eminent ponies, but this route is not safe. The walls have been contested over for the better part of the battle now, and there will occasionally be demonic archers on the parapets, firing barbs down on our positions.”

“Nothing like a fine example of counter-archery to get your blood boiling,” Reugas said approvingly. “Keep your heads down. I will deal with this.”

“I understand, my lord, but if you would—blast, another volley! Take cover!” the soldier shouted, ducking down and raising his shield as a trio of jagged barbs glanced off its scratched paint. Kandro and the others instinctively reacted, taking cover at other unoccupied barricades as Reugas darted forth through the hail, placing himself closest to the walls.

“They’re keeping the gates locked down!” Reugas called out. A pair of bodies, soldiers at the destroyed checkpoint up ahead and the last before they arrived at the gates, were completely perforated with barbs. He gripped his bow with his left hand, nervously tapping it with his right. “Alright, then, my friend, let us see how well you channel the wrath of the empyrean.”

“Reugas!” Kandro shouted cautiously. “What’re you up to?”

“Just performing my job, m’lord!” Reugas shouted back. He peered his head out of the corner, only to suddenly withdraw it as a line of barbs struck the ground, whizzing through where his head had once been. “Ugh, these bastards are sharp...”

“Just give it time, my lord!” the soldier called from the rear, a faint voice attempting to overpower the rapids of the river. “The legion will move to clear the walls eventually! At least, they should. They do it every half-day or so!”

“Sorry, we are a little bit pressed for time,” Reugas muttered to himself. He attempted a second peek, over the rim of his protection instead of the side this time. The walls were quiet for a moment, but then he noticed it: a small dart, fired into the air and growing murderously larger in his vision as he flinched away, falling on his backside as the projectile narrowly missed him.

In his moment of panic, he stared blankly at the barb: it was the size of an arrow, if not slightly larger due to its bulk. Completely black from the head to the nock, it was covered with thorny appendages, designed to inflict maximum pain upon its target and to make removal problematic. The distinct shape, however, made it far easier to track through the air than a normal arrow, and that was what Reugas relied upon: he’d seen the section of wall where the arrow had originated from.

“Reugas! Be careful!” Tehin said concernedly.

“Stow your worries, I have it under control.” The demon archers were accurate, there was no contesting that. He peered his head out again and withdrew it, silently cursing under his breath as he felt his hair stand on end from another passing. “Artim, how good are you with creating decoys?”

“Illusory magic?” Artim asked. “Well, I’m no master at it... merely conjuring an illusion of another is a hard task to master.”

“How hard can it be?” Twilight asked. “You’re only creating a non-physical illusory copy of an individual or object, all you have to do is memorize the details of the implied geometry clear in your mind and the magic will fill in the rest of the work for you.”

“Were it that easy... I think at this point it’s clear that humans are not exactly the sort of masters towards basic non-combat magical abilities as our unicorn counterparts are. Destruction magic, easy to control: you’re focusing on channeling elemental magic to damage your target, a big picture to focus on that doesn’t require intricate thought to manipulate. Illusory magic, though? Quite the opposite. There is a reason why there are whole departments of arcanists dedicated to any art beyond the combat ones.”

“Can you do it? That’s all I’m asking,” Reugas said.

“I’ll try...” Artim flexed his hands, expression contorting into a focused gaze as golden energy began to emanate from his digits. “Let’s see how much easier things work with empyrean magic...”

Reugas tilted his head questioningly as golden light encompassed his body, before a second Reugas pulled itself out of its former host. The ranger fell back in surprise, eyeing the doppelganger before saying, “I should have expected that. Send him out into the open. I think I know where their nest is: the destroyed section of wall on the left side of the gate, but I need to make sure.”

“Alright, then...” Artim slowly waved his hand across the air, moving faux-Reugas out into the open. The report was immediate: a well-placed barb struck the illusion and immediately dispelled its form, but there was a mumbled confirmation from Reugas: he’d found the target.

“Mind giving it another round?” Reugas asked him. Again, they repeated the process and created another illusion as Reugas’ bow began to glow. Runes began to inscribe themselves upon the limbs, and he stored the single arrow he had in the string; the bow responded, creating a thin sliver of empyrean energy that stood the length between the sight and the notching point, to grow in power and lethality as he drew the string back.

The decoy stood and strolled nonchalantly into the avenue, letting himself become a pincushion as Reugas launched his assault. He stood, bow triangulated towards the sight of the wall as he felt a rush of air and suddenly... all was still. The relic was clearly working, as he found, as his sight—painted a hue of muted yellow to his assumption to the object’s affiliation with the empyrean—drifted to the right to catch the impossible: the decoy was motionless waiting for its fate of imminent death, but the barb about to strike it merely... hung in the air.

Action, he thought, was the only catalyst for the sight—the hunter’s sight. Much like how Kandro was a practitioner of the martialsword way through years of study, with procedures and techniques gleaned through old texts, the rangers had their own school. Although the practice of archery was nowhere near as noble as the martialsword’s, the hallowed texts were still there: how the ancient ones fought, their techniques, and the epitome of mastery that a true ranger could be: more than being able to fight blind, or sense their enemies, or fire faster than the waking eye could perceive.

No, the true ranger, at the height of the direst moment, focused on one thing: the pivot upon which every ranger was taught, hammered into their discipline from their time as a recruit and taken all the way with them to their graves. The linchpin of truth that held together that single moment, as the ranger finally released his hand to let nature work its course.

The kill.

So it was with his hunter’s sight that Reugas honed in upon that blotch on the side of Renascence, a crack in the defenses. Within stood not a group of demonic archers, but only one: a hideous amalgam of flesh and bone, similar in form to the creatures that Kandro and Sehyia had fought at Tandreat. The right arm was grotesquely molded in the shape of a barrel, with heinous veins connecting the body to the weapon to propel the barbs with deadly speed and extreme accuracy.

Reugas raised his bow, pulling the string back as the sliver grew into lance of empyrean energy, roaring noiselessly and tearing up the winds around him, beating against the cloth of his hood. His sight’s range was omniscient on the analysis of its target: even though the shape of the archer couldn’t have been more of a speck at his distance, he could see its form locked in the still of the moment, left claw gripping its barrel and its open maw held in an eternal growl.

His fingers went slack, and the world surged back with a rippling howl. So fast the lance had stricken through the air, it had impacted against the unshielded mass of the archer’s body and obliterating all features above its waistline. The deed had been done so fast that as time returned to its normal flow, it seemed like he had never even fired his bow at all.

To Reugas, the sight was a marvel to behold.

To everyone else, Reugas had simply done his job.

“It looks like you’ve got him,” Artim said, casually observing the flash of light in the distance, an ephemeral strike uncommunicative of the significance of Reugas’ act. “Are there any more on the walls?”

“None, as far as I can see,” he replied. He raised a hand to his brow, smiling in smug self-satisfaction at the state of his quarry. “There’ll be no ranger that can match a shot like that for years. In any case, that appears to be the last of them... for now.”

“Still, the speed and skill of that demonic archer...” Artim noted, scratching down notes in his booklet. “Any unaware group would have been slaughtered before they could even react. To think that our ancestors fought against hundreds of these creatures at a time during the Trickster Conflict...”

“I’m not really sure I like the sound of fighting against hundreds of these guys at once...” Dash said.

“Our ancestors did, and they were far better at this business than any of us are,” Kandro said, stepping past them and marching forward on the last of stretch between the next checkpoint and Renascence. “The Pillars and I are arguably the finest the Empire has to offer, yet without our abilities, we are but nothing against the demons and beasts without our relics. Ghiraza has no such boons. We’d best get to him soon.”

“Ghiraza’s not a pushover. He’ll be fine,” Reugas said.

Kandro did not reply, warily stepping forward and circling around the bodies as they approached the gates to Renascence. The titanic doors bore the symbology of the sun shining down upon the city and its denizens, a testament to the endurance of the imperial people. But as they entered the sunless city, he could not help but feel that endurance was slowly being whittled away...

“It’s so cold in here,” Sehyia said, shuddering as she hugged herself with her shoulder cloak wrapped tightly around her. “Damn that Trickster. Renascence should be scorching at this time of year.”

“There,” Artim said, his gaze being the pointer that they all heeded, and they looked to the Capital Spire. The palace sat at its peak, haunted by an ominous miasma that stretched down like spindly fingers attempting to further their reach, grasping and consuming that that fell within its shadow.

“Oh, snap,” Dash said. “That doesn’t look too good...”

“W-we’re going.... to the top... of that?” Fluttershy meekly said. She hung close to Yhimit, who comforted her with a pat of her head. “It’s so... scary...”

“We’ll keep you safe,” Kandro said. The main thoroughfare that led straight through the commercial district was in surprisingly good shape in contrast to the ruin that surrounded it. Far to the side, the city watch headquarters still stood, banners of Renascence hanging from its ramparts still flowing proudly. With luck, Tiraen’s men were still there, and able to keep the roads protected.

He had only put one step forward when the ground shook and toppled the group for their feet and hooves, sending them reeling onto the ground below as the tremor thundered through the earth. A bellow, an issue of challenge, was issued by the behemoth, whose spines could be seen protruding from behind the palace’s topmost domes, behind the living quarters where he had grown up in.

“Ancestors protect us...” Tehin said. “Is the miasma originating from that... monstrosity?”

Motes of red lights slowly shifted around to a stop, fully visible even at their viewing point like ants to a mountain. Only when the luminescence ebbed and swayed slowly, with wisps of miasma congregating around its revealed maw, did they realize that they were not lights. They were eyes, filled with malice and ill intent, daring them to step closer to their doom. Its wings of ancient hide spread wide, and a horned tail of bone and crystal flicked through the air, propagating its miasma to further heights.

“Sweet Celestia...” Applejack said breathlessly. “Is that... is that a dragon?”

“It’s not like any dragon I’ve ever seen...” Twilight said, shaking her head in horrified terror. “It’s... it’s something else now. Even the Princesses in all their years have always had incredible trouble even trying to hurt ancient dragons, but this dragon is...”

“Timeless, beyond the reach of death. Consumed by evil,” Artim answered. He looked to Yhimit, unflustered by the antediluvian creature and with an expression that showed that he did not particularly enjoy the foes they continued to face. “Did the Brotherhood of Free Men have any advice on fighting against this particular foe?”

Yhimit merely drew a finger and pulled it with a slicing motion across his throat. The answer was simple: kill it, but the solution was... less than inspiring. When met with Artim’s returning unamused expression, he merely shrugged and shook his head, clearly unable to draw anything useful from his or his former comrades’ knowledge.

“I take it the Brotherhood never killed any dragons in their time,” Rarity said. “And with good reason. Dragons always keep to themselves, especially the elder ones, far away from any civilization.”

“It seems that wherever they hid, the Trickster has managed to find one,” Kandro said. “And bind it to his service.” He gazed down the road: the thoroughfare sat on an incline, like much of the city, slowly angling itself to the center where the Spire sat, with a roundabout at its base and only one route to rise from.

The levels were discernible through their rising features, clear flat lines inhabited with incorporated domiciles that grew closer and closer to the contours of the Spire as they continued upward. The fifth level sat close to the center, roughly under the midway quarters where Ghiraza and his soldiers normally were quartered at, with the Imperial Archives positioned three-quarters up the length of the spire.

Which meant that Ghiraza and his men were amidst the miasma. “Artim, how much do you remember about the Capital Spire, and in particular, the Imperial Archives?” Kandro asked him, never breaking his sight on the palace.

“Well, for one, they’re near the palace, and... oh.” Artim clicked his tongue and folded his arms in displeasure. “If they’re already in there, I suppose we can count this as catching two rabbits with one arrow. I only fear for the arcanists: we are not numerous. Losing fellow scholars would be a huge blow to Lherren. Books can always be recovered... lives are not so easily replaced.”

“Should we fall back?” Sehyia asked Kandro. “We... we don’t have any experience fighting something such as this. Perhaps we can send a runner to Equestria, perhaps beseech the Paragon or the Protector to aid us?”

Kandro clenched his fist: the temptation to do so was tempting, greatly so, but... they had to try, shouldn’t they? There was no telling that this was the extent of the Trickster’s minions. The evil god could have had far more waiting in the void, eager and ready to pour across the world and plunge it into chaos. But they had a dragon, a great and powerful foe that only the bravest and truly skilled in all of history could ever hope to match.

And although he had faith in the skills and experiences of himself and his comrades, he did not have the faith that they were truly those bravest and truly skilled that the quest demanded. Against the common man and pony, they were the exceptions, not the rule. His father had once told him that the First led his men into glorious battle, trailing on wings of fire and painting the battlefield with majestic displays of martial prowess, a model warrior that spurred his men on to victory. Could he honestly admit that he could do the same?

His thoughts hearkened back to the words Tehin had once imparted to before they began their journey: a boy running around trying to play soldier with wooden swords.

“My lord?” Sehyia stepped forward, lingering close to him. “Are you okay?”

“I am fine,” he said evenly. “Merely weighing our decisions. You are correct: none of us have experience in slaying a dragon. Ghiraza and his men may or may not be alive. Renascence will be sure to fall. And we stand at the precipice of the most important decision ever to determine the fate not of our Empire, but of the world. I can honestly say that I would prefer to run and hide.”

“Then we can,” she said, grasping his arm. Both looked to the Capital Spire. “We can flee, prepare, and turn to face this threat when we are ready.”

“Or as ready as we’ll ever be,” said Reugas.

“Hush!” Sehyia hissed at him. “We gamble with our lives here! Would you rather that we throw away what hopes we and these ponies are to our people? To deliver the Elements of Harmony straight into the hands of the Trickster?”

“If we’re going to die, we might as well get it over with,” he brashly replied. “Be truthful, Sehyia: do you honestly think this is going to be the worst we will get? The Trickster may just as well spread a plague among our people, rain fire from the skies, make us all go mad. We have that chance here, before his control spreads to this domain, to stop him! If we can kill that dragon, or at least distract it long enough for the ponies to finish what they have come here to do, then we can end it all, right here!”

“I’m with the fellow,” Applejack said. “There ain’t tellin’ if we’re ever goin’ to get another shot at this in all of creation. We gotta try somethin’.”

“Yeah, I’m with them,” Dash said with a jab of her hoof. “We got the Elements of Harmony, you know, we can put a solid hoof or two across that dragon’s face!”

“Me three!” Pinkie piped in. “We have to stop the big evil meanie pants before he returns, you know? And I’m getting really bad shivers from this right now, I think my Pinkie Sense is trying to tell me that it isn’t a good idea to start running now!”

“But it’s not like we are out of options here if we flee,” Artim said, entering the conversation with his notes at the ready. “I have these notes. Perhaps we can isolate and study the chaotic magic, perhaps understand how we may better combat them. We can train with our empyrean magic and their harmonies, learning to better wield them in the field.”

“Please, Artim,” Tehin said, strolling up to the arcanist and looking down at him, and more specifically, his notes. “How can we expect to truly study the chaos? The monsters will grow in power, they will travel in packs, and soon, they will be at the doorstep of every township in the Empire, and then the greater world beyond that. And we already have trouble dealing with their foot soldiers, of all things. You have optimistic expectations about how we will counter these beasts.”

“I’m with Artim,” Twilight said, stepping in on Artim and Sehyia’s side. “Knowledge has always been power. And I’m sure together, the both of us will be able to craft a plan that will allow us to capture one of these monsters with minimal risk to ourselves for study and—”

“And how long will that take, I wonder?” Reugas shot back at her. “This isn’t like laying traps for rabbits. These are monsters we are talking about here. They will try to claw, rip, and tear their way out of any prison you can conceive for them, and they may just as well succeed. And it is like Tehin said: they will travel in packs, as if the lesser ones do not already. We will be put at odds simply trying to locate a straggler because they will expect it. They are not fools.”

“If we can examine their behavioral patterns, combined with their rates and routes of progression, we may be able to extrapolate information that could allow us to entrap one with minimal risk to ourselves,” Artim enunciated, interspersing his explanation with an exasperated sigh. “Really, Reugas, this is something that requires thought. We can do this, we just have to be cautious about it.”

“I’ve done plenty of thinking, and I’m thinking that we simply go up that Spire, kill that dragon, and stop the Trickster before he even gets a chance to breathe our air. If you want to scurry and hide like mice, feel free to do so. I, on the other hand, will be taking the fight to that whoreson and fighting tooth and nail to stop every inch of his advance, like a true imperial would.”

“Yeah, no offense, Twi,” Dash said. “But we don’t have Celestia here to bail us out, and it might take days before she gets here.”

“I’m inclined to agree with you,” Rarity said, finally putting her hoof in. “I am not normally one to march headlong into danger, but you must understand: he will be far more powerful if we decide to face him later, and not now. And if my understanding of magic is greater than anything rudimentary, such a powerful being will most certainly regain his magic at an exponential rate once he gains a foothold in our world.”

“See? Even Rarity’s got some sense in her,” Applejack said. “Sorry, Twi, Sehyia, Artim. This one’s just too big to leave sittin’ as it is. They even got a dragon already! You honestly think that guy’s goin’ to just let us waltz right out of Renascence scot-free?”

“Its task is to defend the maelstrom,” Artim said. He pointed at the dragon, then the maelstrom above it as it turned around, directing its attentions elsewhere in the city. “The Trickster would not chance it on the deaths of plebes such as us if it meant jeopardizing his return in any way possible. At least, that is how far my understanding of his intent goes.”

“Yes, but you don’t, do you?” Pinkie challenged. “We don’t leave things to chance, especially not with the evilest evil we’ve ever seen from the other side! That’s for card games and pin-the-tail-on-the-pony!”

“Yes, that is the problem: we don’t know for sure whether this attack will pay off for us,” Twilight snapped back. “It’s better to err on the safe side for once, call in Celestia and all the help we can get!”

“The Elements won’t work without all of us,” Applejack said. “We can’t just do a split on this decision, girls, we gotta make a choice here and now!”

Dash hovered in the air, folding her arms and staring accusingly at Twilight. “I already know which side I’m on: the right one.”

“Well, we have made our own correct decision, and we stand by it!” Twilight said, holding her chin high as she and Dash entered into a staring contest.

The rest of the group devolved into petty squabbling as Kandro witnessed the scene unfold with neutral disposition. There was, without a doubt, the full realization that he was the tiebreaker in this argument: his clout as crown prince—emperor now, meant that they would follow his decision no matter what he decided. The only problem now was deciding.

“U-um... P-Prince Kandro...?” He felt a tug at his arm, and he looked down to see the nervous eyes of Fluttershy looking up to him and her hoof pointing towards the Spire. “Y-Yhimit, he’s...” She made a dainty jab towards the road, and Kandro turned to look at what she had been worried about.

Yhimit had abandoned the argument the moment it had began, and was already a form the size of a pebble, continuing his journey alone to the Capital Spire. As he stared at the back of the disciple’s blood-red robes, he felt that he should, or rather, felt impelled to follow him. Wordlessly, he followed in his footsteps, with Fluttershy left standing in bewilderment until she, too, decided to follow him.

“—and that’s what I’m trying to tell you, that...” Artim stopped, letting Reugas step into the conversation to lambast him. “Wait... where’s Prince Kandro? And Yhimit?”

“And Fluttershy!” Rarity said, looking to her side. With a dramatic flourish of her hoof, she stood on her hind hooves and shouted, “There! They’ve already left!”

“Yhimit’s leading the way, I see,” Reugas said. “Nice to see that he has a good head on his shoulders.”

“So... decision made, then?” Tehin said slowly, unwilling to reignite the sparks of discussion.

Artim sighed begrudgingly. “Decision made,” he agreed.

Author's Note

Imagine Vanquish, the game by Shinji Mikami for the PS3, which featured a protagonist whose main capability originates from a suit that can enhance the reflexes of whoever wears it, being able to alter their perception and senses so that time is seemingly moving in slow-motion. Now imagine that, applied to Reugas' hunter sight, whose empyrean affinities grant him the ability to do that and far more, able to slow his awareness of his situations to a standstill, and sharpen his alacrity to inhuman tiers. If implications of the old imperials didn't already hint at such things, the ancestors—the First and the old Imperial Legion—fought at these ludicrous levels by default.

It's in development, but maybe I'll have more of these "epic" moments where each character focuses on the purest form of their innate skillsets. I already have Sehyia, Kandro, and Reugas down so far, with ones sure to come for Tehin and Artim. Yhimit, however... well, I will leave him be. He is special, and I'll let the weight of that statement hang with you, the reader.

Also, the argument near the end of this chapter was extremely entertaining to write. I had originally panned it as Kandro expressing his doubts towards marching to fight an evil greater than anything he could have possibly imagined, bringing in his worries at being inept and never being able to truly become the great leader Tehin and his father had originally believed that he would be, but it ended up like this. All of the characters now have their say on the subject, on an issue that could well have been divisive for the reader if they didn't already know that greater things were already at work: go all-in with a huge disadvantage at an opportune moment, with the chance of ending it right then and there, or to retreat and build up their skillsets and training, facing the full threat of the Trickster's armies only when they were ready, with Celestia and other allies purportedly in tow?

X: In Defeat

C h a p t e r 1 0 :

I n D e f e a t

There was a time when better men lurked in the shadows communicating to each other. They told each other secrets, dangerous things, of the impending doom that loomed over the thoughts of every imperial citizen. These few men and women were our safeguard against the Trickster, the vigilant watchmen who protected the Empire during our times of peace, more so than the Legion. But in recent times, their order seems to have died out, with no trace of them ever existing. What happened to these intriguing warriors? For what reason have they disappeared?

-The Unknown Order: Eyes in the Shadows, Reatyn Ndaken, 1505 RY

“More archers?!” Reugas said. “When will we ever see the end of these bastards?!”

He dodged, slamming back-first into a outcropping of hard stone sitting in the middle of the avenue. His relic hummed as he drew his line, firing a pair of bright slivers off into the encroaching fog, a hideous black and putrid in scent. Shortly after, he coughed through his mask as the others moved up from their positions.

“Are you okay?” Fluttershy asked, voice echoing from behind her closed helmet. Her armor glowed brightly in the swirling dark, humming with harmonic energies. “The miasma… it’s bad, isn’t it?”

“Not as bad as it could be,” Reugas said, catching his breath. “No harm done… so far. The smell is what’s getting to me. Like rotting corpses and… something worse.”

“There,” Kandro said, pointing to the walls of the Capital Spire. Amidst the haze, fires burned bright, a trailing spiral that wormed its way up towards the sky. Shouts and the sharp clangs of hard steel could be heard even through the din of battle, cries of effort and barked orders from a man whose voice could move mountains. “It’s Captain Ghiraza. He’s still alive!”

“How long is left until we’re at the Spire, anyway?” Twilight asked through her mask, waving an annoyed hoof to prevent her hood from blocking her view. “It feels like it’s been forever already.”

“We’re passing the fifth aqueduct up ahead, the final and last landmark before we reach the stairway gates that will take us up,” Artim said, crouching behind a half-crushed wagon. He perched close to its corner, eyeing the congregation ahead. “More of them…”

“I will take the lead,” Kandro said, hand gripped tightly on the Blade of the First.

“Hold on, Prince Kandro,” Tehin whispered from behind. His form sat huddled off to the side, where the remains of a column that once held a great arch served as his temporary cover. “Lead as you might, we cannot rush headlong into such dangerous conditions. We do not know what else lays in wait for us.”

“I see no way but forward, and the longer we delay, the smaller Ghiraza’s window to escape will be.” Kandro licked his lips nervously and stared ahead. “And I have an idea.”

“What, pray tell, would that be?” Reugas asked. “I certainly hope you mean for me and Artim to soften them up before you all start running in there.”

“I mean for us to do it all at once. You and Artim will lay waste to those at range, while the rest of us will deal with the creatures ahead.” He looked at Applejack, covered from head to hoof in armor. “And the rest of you… you should probably stay here.”

“Hey, we ain’t just along for the ride,” Applejack said. “I’m not so sure ‘bout fightin’ monsters all the time, but we’ve been in a whole slew of pinches before. ‘Sides, it’s not like we’re goin’ to be doin’ all the fightin’ alone. We have you guys to back us up.”

“I’m with her,” Dash said. “We’ve got all of our armor and magic now. We’ll hang back, help you out a little bit, and then we can see where we go from there.”

Kandro looked to the others, who merely gave nods in agreement of Applejack’s proposal. “I don’t want you to get hurt,” he said. At that, Applejack rolled her eyes and sighed, before she sat down and raised her two armored hooves in front of him.

“See these, sugarcube?” She tapped them together, and the plates clinked. “I’m pretty sure we both know that these ain’t s’posed to be for show. And like I said before, we ain’t goin’ to be tusslin’ with the whole group there. We’ll just hang around behind, maybe give them a couples of bucks or a hard hoof to see if the magic’s in the right place, just to be sure.”

“Sounds good to me,” Reugas said. “I don’t want to babysit them for the entire trip.”

“And I don’t want to be babysat for the whole trip,” Dash said. She looked at her friends, giving them a knowing smile as she nodded. “Come on, I’m right, aren’t I? We totally can’t let them do all the work! Especially since we’re supposed to help them save the world, you know?”

“You aren’t trying to knock them out, you’re trying to kill them,” Artim said. “As much as you may will yourself to, it is doubtlessly a hard facet of war to master. Though I suppose the motivation is justified in this case. I doubt any human in existence thinks twice about killing a demon.”

“Then it’s agreed, then,” Tehin said. “But I will watch the little ones, just to be safe.”

“With Tehin as their defense, I’m not even sure they’ll get their chance,” Sehyia noted.

“Very well,” Kandro said. “Artim, Reugas, ready yourselves. Sehyia, Yhimit, you two will march with me into the fray. The ponies will follow with Tehin close by. Once the dust settles, we shall waste no time and head straight for the Spire.”

“Can I use my party cannon?” Pinkie asked. “You know, just to be sure.”

“Anything you can use to help would be fine, Pinkie,” Tehin said, chuckling. “Just make sure you point it in the right direction. It certainly worked on the winged demons, so perhaps it may well work on the lesser ones, as well.”

“Yes, sir,” she said, putting on a serious expression and saluting him. The cannon appeared from behind her, pulled towards the fore as she wheeled it around to aim downwind. “Ready!”

“Excellent, now let us—” Kandro was interrupted by an ear-splitting roar from above that was accentuated by the puncturing noise of thunder. Lightning crackled across the skies, in greater intensity than it once was as the winds shifted. The black grew deeply darker as a wave of smoke fell from the Spire’s top, washing over the group and spreading into the city.

“It’s not just a miasma…” Artim said, horrified. He looked down to see wisps of the smoke catch onto the stone of the ground, painting the roadway with blotches of corruption that hardened and grew into blighted crystals. “It’s reshaping the environment. I… don’t recall any book I’ve read ever mentioning something like this before.”

“I don’t think the books ever mentioned anything about the ancestors fighting an ancient dragon, either,” Kandro said, kicking away the growth next to his boots. “And it’ll take the whole city if we don’t act fast enough. Are we all ready?” He looked at Applejack, who looked to her friends.

“Well, reckon it’s as ready as we’ll ever be,” she said. “Might as well get this over with.”

He nodded, then looked across the cityscape. He gestured to two locations: left, to the caved-in remnants of a townhouse’s tower, and right to the columned walls of a communal gathering place in the distance. “Reugas, Artim, expect your targets to loiter within those general locations. They offer a good vantage point and have clear sight of the entire road down to the Spire’s base.”

“Short work. I’d have a harder time tilling fields,” Reugas said, chuckling as he leapt over the walkway’s railing for the building along his way to the tower. He nimbly navigated the wall to the roof and gave a final wave before disappearing, dashing across the rooftops, bow in hand. Artim merely shrugged and did a short-distance teleport before making his way to the communal building on foot.

Explosions sounded soon after, and the rising clouds of dust visible through the murk caught the attention of the demons on the bridge. They growled curiously at each other, pointing in the direction of the commotion until the tower exploded and they sprang into action, gutturally speaking with panic.

“They’re distracted. Let’s go,” Kandro said. The Blade hummed as he drew it from its sheath, and he stepped forward only for a bright light behind him to alert the enemy to their position. He turned around and saw a flustered Pinkie standing behind her cannon, the barrel now gilded and inscribed like her armor.

“Uh… it didn’t look like this before…” she said, before she gasped and covered her eyes.

Kandro looked back to the projectile, seeing that it had reached the apex of its arc and was now falling, and turned again to Pinkie to speak when the scene behind him exploded in light. The force knocked him over, and he stared at the fading explosion as the demons stood dazed. “It didn’t do that before, either…” he muttered.

“So… I guess the magic applies to my party cannon, too, huh?” Pinkie giggled awkwardly. “That’s helpful, right?”

“More than helpful, actually,” Kandro said, getting to his feet. “Fire it again.”

“Huh?” Pinkie’s mouth grew into an uncertain frown. “Are you… sure?”

“It’s the magic, that’s as plain as day. And, look…” The space that the explosion cleared out was visible, untouched by the miasma until the fog slowly began to roll back in. “It clears the air around wherever it hits. The extra visibility will be useful in combat. Aim behind the group we’ll be fighting against. We want to stem the flow from the Spire.”

“Alrighty then.” Pinkie checked the barrel, tapping up and down its length to check for integrity. The runes glowed, and the cannon was knocked back as a metallic thump notified her that the ammunition had been restocked. “Oh, it refills itself! That’s great! Now let’s get this part started!” Stepping back behind the cannon with a devious grin, she slapped the top and let loose another shot.

Kandro dashed forward, shifting into a golden blur as he channeled speed-altering magic to propel him forward, and launching himself at the first hapless demon to plant the Blade directly into its eye. Sehyia followed suit, sliding into battle and slicing cleanly through a demon’s knee before transitioning into a handstand with her sword gripped by the locks on the sides of her boots, slicing the demon’s arm off. Yhimit remained at range, still closing in on foot utilizing only standard magic to modify his sprinting speed.

“Alright, gals, now’s our time! Let’s go!” Applejack shouted. The ponies joined the fray, with only Fluttershy meekly trailing behind the form of their guardian.

“Fluttershy, are you okay?” he asked her.

“I don’t want to do this,” Fluttershy whispered frantically. “I don’t want to do this. I’m sorry, Tehin, but I… this is too scary. I’m not like Dash, I can’t… I can’t convince myself to… fight.” Her voice squeaked as she strayed closer to Tehin, using his form to block the sight of the battle from her eyes.

“Child, you may find yourself in a position where you will have to,” Tehin said, balancing the weight of his quarterstaff on his shoulder. Ahead, Applejack dug her hooves into the side of a demon, casting it aside as Dash intercepted a striking blow from another. A demon lieutenant walked forth, jagged sword raised high to strike an unaware Dash, only to be felled by a flurry of slashes from Yhimit’s swords. Pinkie slowly advanced, firing her cannon in regular intervals behind the battle, stopping any reinforcements coming from the Spire.

Twilight and Rarity stood away from the battle, firing precise beams at any demon that found its way into their line of sight. The two flinched as a demon, a gangly imp wielding a makeshift mace, broke out of the fight and circled his way around to them with blinding speed. The creature met its end when Tehin ran forth and swung his staff, striking the demon full in the face with the staff’s heavy end.

“W-whoa!” Twilight said, catching the top of her hood as she watched the demon sail off the road. Her eartips protruding from the cloth twitched at the rough touch of her hooves. “Thanks, Tehin, that was a little too close…”

“A part of me wonders whether that hood is prudent in a combat situation,” Tehin said. “Certainly nowhere near as effective as a helmet. But, given how it was not your decision to include it as part of your battle dress, I suppose I shouldn’t criticize.”

“Well, at least the Elements know how to cater to our tastes,” Rarity said. Her horn alighted itself and a thin sliver of light struck a demon’s arm, causing it to drop its weapon and leaving it wide open to a chest stab from Sehyia. The pony and the woman met eyes and in the heat of the moment, gave each other a quick nod of appreciation.

Explosions sounded off in unison around them as Artim and Reugas laid waste to the descending hordes of winged demons. Empyrean energies swirled with the miasma, a hissing maelstrom as the energies worked against each other. The air stunk now with the stench of acrid magic burning itself away, and with a massive explosion in Artim’s direction, the scent only intensified. Tehin and the others all coughed, gagging as their noses stung.

Pinkie joined in, having caught up to them. “Pee-yoo! That smells awful,” she said, before firing her cannon. The round went high, striking the base of the stairs in the distance, and she adjusted her cannon’s angle. “Oh, no, there’s more of them… I keep firing my cannon, but they just keep coming!”

“The portal is the primary mainstay of the demons’ transportation here,” Reugas said, landing with a roll next to them. “As if appearing anywhere wasn’t enough, trying to stop that portal will be like trying to stem a flood using a wooden board.”

“You’re back awfully quick,” Twilight said.

“The empyrean magic simplifies the process of elimination.” He looked ahead to see Kandro decapitate the last of the demons, watching as the remainder of the forces fled to the base of the Spire. “They’re falling back,” he said, waving them all forward as they rushed to meet up with the frontliners.

“This is not good,” Kandro said. “They’re retreating up the stairs.”

“Ghiraza is up there. We need to reach him,” Sehyia said.

A burst of golden light appeared next to them, and Artim reappeared, his wrapped hands sizzling with smoke. “The relics… do certainly help. Perhaps a little too much,” he said. “I assume we’re heading up the steps now?”

“Yes.” An explosion at Ghiraza’s position alerted them. “And none too soon. Can you teleport us up there, Artim? Or Twilight?”

The two looked at each other in question, and then shook their heads. Fireballs streaked from the road above, coursing along with purple lightning, and a stray bolt shot astray and smashed into the mountainside with a blast.

“Then I only hope we won’t be too late…”

“Hold fast!” Captain Ghiraza shouted. A soldier screamed, crawling on the floor with his leg torn to a bloody pulp as a demon stepped upon his back and impaled the poor man with its blade. Ghiraza grimaced, uttering a prayer for the man, and met the demon in combat. Blocking with his shield and countering with a strike at the demon’s exposed side, he cursed and fell back, letting his subordinates fill the hole in his gap to strike the demon down.

“Captain, what will we do?” Another soldier, his crimson garb tattered and his armor dented, stepped in front of him. His helmet’s faceplate was stained with blood. “The demons are unceasing, sir. We cannot hold this position for long.”

“Are the arcanists able to move?”

“Slowly. The weight of their books is proving difficult.” Ghiraza shook his head, watching as the arcanists slowly shifted wagons full of books slowly down the road, a process further impeded due to the lack of sandrunners pulling it. “What worth is this knowledge, sir? Surely our lives are worth more than—”

“Knowledge is the lifeblood of the Empire.” Ghiraza’s thunderous voice stopped the soldier’s sentence cold in its tracks. “Without it, we are nothing. Without it, the Trickster wins. While I do understand your concerns in escorting what seems to be pointless information, I must remind you that our lives are expendable. Our archives are not.”

“Yes, sir,” the soldier said with an apologetic bow. “Shall we continue with the defense?”

“As planned. Tell the arcanists to move faster.”

“Of course, sir. And of the dead and wounded?”

Ghiraza glanced at the battle raging around him. Of the two hundred men he had entered the Archives with, only less than seventy remained. The rest were either dead, or dying, and he did not have the time nor the means to bring them all with him. “Leave them,” he said. “Lest we all share in their fate.”

“Understood, sir.” The soldier saluted and disappeared through the crowd, running towards the wagons where the arcanists atop the books casted bolts of lightning and balls of fire around them.

He marched forward again, joining the front ranks shoulder-to-shoulder as they endured another uphill push from the demons approaching ahead of them. Whatever had happened, the lower Spire was now teeming with the creatures, threatening to stop their advance and leave them at the mercy of the army behind them, filled with greater demons and creatures of the void. They would either escape Renascence with their charges, or they would die trying.

“Form up!” he shouted. In unison, every soldier grunted and locked their shields together, absorbing the storm of blows, uncoordinated and sloppy, and delivered a counterattack with the points of their blades. Perhaps it was better this way: the demon lieutenants that were coming from above held no such incompetency in their ranks.

“Sir!” a voice called out. “Reinforcements rising from the city streets!”

“Excellent,” Ghiraza said. “Can you tell who it is?”

“I think it’s the Pillars, sir!”

“Even better!” he shouted, reinvigorated by their imminent aid. “Again, push!”

The phalanx shoved its way down, plowing the bodies aside. Soldiers behind the shield line cheered as they watched the divine vengeance wrought upon the demons by the Pillars and their entourage, eagerly greeting their saviors when the two groups joined.

Ghiraza stripped his helmet off, bearing a wide smile as Kandro, also hefting his helmet in hand, approached him. “Prince Kandro! Ancestors be praised, I knew you would return. Tell me: do you bring aid? Can we save this city before the darkness takes it?”

“That’s my plan, yes,” Kandro said. Ghiraza tilted his head to get a good look at the ponies behind Kandro. “I’m afraid the Paragon and Protector are currently preoccupied, but the Elements are no longer within their control. The right to wield them has been passed down to these six now.”

“So long as they can do the job, I’ve no complaints,” Ghiraza said. He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder and looked at the Pillars. “There are more of them coming from atop the Spire.”

“So we’ve noticed. We only entered the city scant hours ago and the influx of the creatures has gone from a trickle to a rainstorm, dropping all over the city like vermin. It does not bode well for our mission,” Tehin said.

“Quartermaster,” Ghiraza said, bowing his head. “You might seek to use the Elements to reach the top, but you’d all be better off fleeing elsewhere.” The wagons moved past them, and he walked next to them as Reugas and Artim joined with the rearguard to assist. “There are too many now, and ancestors only know what other horrors are emerging from the portals now. Creatures of nightmares, unlike anything I’ve seen before. To believe our ancestors fought against such an unholy enemy…”

“Hold on a moment.” Ghiraza looked down at the armored pony at Kandro’s side. “You’re tellin’ us that we just came all the way for nothin’?”

“Not unless you’d like to meet an untimely end against unfavorable odds,” Ghiraza said with a surly snort. He gave Kandro a questioning look. “Are any of these acquaintances of yours soldiers?” Kandro shook his head, and Ghiraza looked to him, his expression neutral and judging. “Then it’d be a wise choice to flee the city with us.”

“We’re short on time,” Kandro said, “I must inquire as to the nature of the cargo the arcanists carry with them.”

“Of course, Emperor,” Ghiraza said, noting Kandro closing his eyes for a moment longer than normal within his helmet, as if he resented the title. “We have with us thirty-six volumes of knowledge gathered from various fields. Farming, city layouts, weather reports, drought reports, censuses, and much more.”

“Is any of it important to the war? Of our fight against the Trickster?” Kandro asked, looking aside to Artim. The keeper was busy blasting a lieutenant marching towards him with a beam of light, leaving nothing but the demon’s charred lower half when the beam faded. “I am not keen on losing men over these books.”

“I went in with two hundred men. A hundred from my own company of the Emperor’s guard, and a hundred soldiers from the Legion. More than three-quarters of the regulars and close to half of mine have been killed. We’ve bled enough for these damnable works already, might as well see it through to the end with the much-needed help the twelve of you can provide.”

“But is any of it useful? We already stand disadvantaged, Ghiraza. I need every capable man to flee the city so we can regroup and mount a counterattack, books be damned. The Trickster has his legions everywhere, and we cannot expect to pull off a miracle like the First did.”

Ghiraza shook his head. “We were here on behalf of the arcanists. They claimed that ancient knowledge hidden somewhere within the shelves held information on combating the Trickster, a lead that came straight from Lherren. Most notably, the Grand Scholar himself.”

“The Grand Scholar?” Kandro said. “What does the Grand Scholar believe he will find here?”

“Something, else he would not have sent these arcanists to find it. He claims that there exists a single entry amongst our cargo that is paramount to our fight against the Trickster. And given the monstrosity that sits atop the palace now, I am inclined to believe him rather than stake our odds on weathered blades and inexperienced men.” Soldiers shouted as the darkened clouds were carved black as a form flew within its depths. The dragon roared, not from above… but next to them.

“Ancestors protect us,” Sehyia whispered. “The dragon. It’s…”

“It’s here,” Ghiraza said.

“Then we must fight it,” Kandro said. He looked to Twilight. “We must use the Elements against it. There is no other way.”

“The Elements of Harmony...” Ghiraza’s mention of the legendary relics lifted the spirits of the men around them, and they took to speaking to each other through the din of combat. “Then we put our fates in your hooves, young ponies. Lest we all die here on this forsaken mountainside…”

“We won’t let you down,” Twilight said, on Kandro’s opposite side, and gulped. “I hope,” she added quietly.

“That dragon is about to fall upon us,” Artim said, returning to them. “Shall we attempt a mass teleportation? With our empyrean magic, it may well just work.” The form flew by once again, and he worriedly looked at Kandro. “We didn’t plan for the dragon to come to us. Nor did we plan on involving all of these soldiers in the fight. I have no doubt that they will not live should we halt to stand against it.”

“Less than a hundred people here, and that’s not including the wagons,” Sehyia said. “I’ve no doubt of your and Twilight’s skills, Artim, but I doubt either of you has had much experience having this much mass in your mass teleportation, wagons and all.”

“We might have to. It would take far too long to fight our way up, but we can perhaps clear a way out before the dragon seeks to—” Kandro was cut short as the ground shook, the dragon’s form colliding with the side of the mountain. Its great claws, marred with years of wear and jagged like a serrated knife, gripped the sides of the road, crushing the smaller buildings on the peripheries as they gained their hold.

The dragon lowered his head through the miasma, and stared down at them with burning red eyes. Its maw opened, revealing rows of gigantic teeth, and within its chest, a great whirling of energy began to course through its body.

“The dragon’s using its flames!” Twilight said. “We need to move! Now!”

“Teleport, Twilight!” Artim shouted, clenching his fists as a golden aura began to surround every man and pony around him. “Do it!”

Twilight stared in disbelief, reluctantly mingling the purple glow of her magic with his as she looked around with terrified conviction. Ghiraza barked his orders, a tiny whisper in the growing whirlwind of the dragon’s charging power, urging his men to form a full shield formation towards the dragon itself, for what good it would do them.

Their efforts undone, Artim and Twilight both cried out, straining as the glow intensified, covering the core of all their targets as they desperately willed themselves away. But it wasn’t enough, and the glow disappeared in a flash as the two fell to the floor, exhausted.

“It’s not enough!” Artim said, stumbling as he attempted to get on his feet. Ghiraza watched, eyeing Kandro calmly despite the bedlam he now found himself in. The young emperor merely stared, gazing wide into the dragon’s throat, as if he were staring deeply into the abyss that grew in size, dwarfing even the entire side of the Spire that they stood on.

“Artim. Twilight. Cast a shield,” Kandro ordered, his voice steadfast.

“As you wish!” Artim said, sitting upright as Twilight galloped to his side, and the two combined their magic, Artim with an outstretched arm and Twilight with angled horn, crossing the beams of their magic and projecting a great barrier encapsulated the whole area, demons and all. The soldiers fought the stranded demons within, ably purging the area as the barrier shut the remainder out.

“Will… will this even do anything?” Twilight said through gritted teeth.

“I don’t know,” Kandro said. “But pray that it does.”

The other arcanists connected their own magic to the shield, offering what little aid they could to the barrier’s reserves drawn from the empyrean energies of Artim and Twilight. The dragon was obscured entirely by the sphere of dark energies that it held in front of its mouth. Light fled from its sight at risk of being swallowed into that growing darkness, and the light was no longer that light, of a sun barely showing through dark fog and gritty dust, but of a night that had no moon and no stars.

“That… that ain’t fire…” Applejack said. Dash and the other hung close, eyes alighted with stark fear as the ponies gravitated closer to each other for comfort.

“Ancestors protect us,” Sehyia whispered.

“And may the First strike this blighted creature down where it stands,” Ghiraza uttered after, defiant with a plain sneer on his face. “Brace yourselves!” he called to his men. They gathered around him, forming a circular bastion with their shields around the wagons.

The dark energies were strong now, enough where even the demons caught outside beating upon the barrier’s surface were taken by its forces. Their deaths were drawn out, as their forms were picked away chunk by hideous chunk, their blows slacking from swift and determined strikes to sluggish taps, staining blood on the exterior with their disintegrating arms as the empyrean energies burnt them away.

Reugas fired arrow after arrow, the slivers of empyrean energy disappearing into the dragon’s gullet. He shouted angrily, sending off a final shot as the pinprick was absorbed by the sphere’s growing mass. “If I don’t die,” he said, “I’m going to scour each and every single ancient text to see how the hell the archers of old fought against the Trickster, because we’re honestly about to receive a faceful of its power.”

“Pinkie!” shouted Tehin, dragging the pony away from her cannon as she recoiled from her cannon’s charged volley. The cannonballs disappeared also disappeared into the depths as if they were nothing more than spheroid treats, and Pinkie, laying flat on her back, looked up at Tehin with a sour face.

“No!” she said. “I’m not going to let it end like this! We can give this stupid dragon the one-two and then do him in!”

“To attack it now would be folly!” Tehin kneeled down and placed a hand on her shoulder. “We must have faith in your friends now. As optimistic our plan initially sounded…” He stared with her towards the sky now blotted out. “...I don’t think any of us truly comprehended the scale of the beast.”

“That’s because we didn’t,” Reugas said, pointing at the tips of the dragon’s horns. “The damn thing is growing. The thing’s horns were barely wider than the whole block and now the thing’s head is practically as wide as the mountain itself. The ball isn’t growing in power. The dragon is.”

“What?” Kandro said, with great surprise. “But how?”

“If I were to hazard a guess…” Artim said, straining with his arms held high bearing the weight of the shield as the void energies pressed against it. “...I’d assume that the dragon is siphoning the magic away.”

“A dragon that grows in power by taking magic away…?” Dash said.

“I do not know how we are to fight against such an impossible foe.” Kandro stowed his sword, tightening the sheath’s knot on his belt. “But…” He looked at Yhimit. “Does the Brotherhood hold any information on something like this?”

Yhimit nodded, and Kandro sighed in relief.

“Where is it?” Kandro asked. Yhimit strolled around, finding an arcanist and gesturing to borrow his seal before returning to Kandro and holding it before his face. “The arcanist’s seal… It’s at Lherren?” Yhimit nodded. “The First take you, man, why did you not tell us this before?”

“Yes, I’m sure having the notes on this would have been really helpful before we came to stare down a dragon’s throat!” Dash said, gasping when the cacophony outside the shield went silent, still as a dead night. “Wh… what just happened? Why did everything just go quiet?”

“Everyone brace yourselves!” Ghiraza said, standing in the shield wall with his men. “Here it comes!” Without noise, the ball shot forth, tearing through the buildings as if they were sand on the wind, and collided against the shield. A raucous shriek pierced their ears as it met the shield, and all save for Artim and Twilight covered their ears instinctively. The shield pulsated brightly, as great a glow as the sun itself.

“I… can’t… hold… the… shield...!” Artim shouted.

“Try… harder…!” Twilight replied, her hooves grinding against the road as the force that leaked through pushed them back. The winds howled, or they should have. All remained silent, as the void seemed to bleed away the audible itself. She shouted again, then her mouth hung agape and her eyes widened as her voice was nowhere to be found.

The others gathered around the two, holding onto each other and anchoring Artim and Twilight to the ground as the sphere tore through the shield. They watched as their imminent doom fell upon them with naught a word.

All was silent, and the world disappeared around them.

“As it should be, young prince. Once more, awaken, heir to the throne.”

Kandro jolted awake with a sharp pain that struck his entire body at once. His eyes watered and he cried out in pain, sitting upright and clutching his chest tightly. The pain gave way to soreness, painstakingly slowly, and only then was he able to discern his new surroundings, where the familiar voice spoke to him once more.

It was an oasis, located in the middle of a scorching desert whose mirages seemed to surround the patch of life with a wall of glass. He sat on soft, cool sands, and his boots mingled with the soft touch of the clear oasis water. Great and tall trees surrounded him for only a stone’s throw around him, spaced evenly and enough where he could see the desert beyond.

“We… we failed,” Kandro said, shaking his head as he begrudgingly tossed a handful of sand into the pool. “The dragon… we did not know that it thrived on magic. We played into the Trickster’s plans.”

“There is no shame in defeat, Prince Kandro. You now know what you fight against. The Trickster has not waned in his banishment. He is crafty, and in his craftiness, he crafted. Crafted new weapons, new creatures, new doctrines through which he will deliver death and destruction upon your world. But it is needed. You still live, as do your companions.”

“Needed how? Did you know that this would happen?”

“I did not know of the dragon, nor what other newfound horrors he seeks to visit upon the frail lands of the Empire. It is because of his vindictive nature that forged the need to experience his powers. Because without knowing what you are up against, to throw all your forces into the breach against this great evil, you will lose everything.”

Kandro ran his hand through the water, cupping it into his palm and accepting its nourishing force into his body. The sun shined down upon him, but held none of its searing touch that it did in the Empire. “And the books that were with Captain Ghiraza? Was the Grand Scholar correct in assuming that there was something important to be found that we could use against the Trickster?” he asked.

“If such knowledge existed, then it would be far more prudent to keep it under lock and key at Lherren, would you not agree? To that end, no, the cargo that Ghiraza defends does not hold any importance to your mission. But even with that knowledge, there is no doubt that you would have gone into the city for Ghiraza himself.”

“He is a good man,” Kandro said, crossing his legs and brushing off the sand crusted on the sides of his boots. “I would not leave him to die, especially not to such a futile cause. Like Tehin, he is a man that has taught me much as I grew up, and is as much a figure in my life as my father and mother are. He taught me the history of our Legions, the warfare of our people. An important part of our history, one as relevant in this day and age as ever.”

“As complete a vision you will ever have of that history, and unfortunately one that bears little help against the threats you now face.”

“I must ask, stranger: what is your allegiance? You have not told me much of yourself, nor do I have any details of who you truly are. I question this voice that speaks to me from the still air and only in a dream state that, as you claim, exists between our realm and that of the empyrean and the void.”

“You have misgivings that you may be interacting with the Trickster still,” the voice said, outing the question Kandro held within his mind. “Perfectly understandable. Rest assured, sire, that I do not bear you any harm, nor do I mean any harm to your world. I am an ancient spirit, one beholden to the Brotherhood of Free Men and the First himself.”

“And what of this Brotherhood? Is Yhimit truly the last? Certainly not, given how you still speak to me.” His hands brushed against the sand, rubbing it away and revealing worn stone underneath. “What is this?” he wondered aloud, turning and brushing away more to reveal inscriptions upon the surface.

The stone grinded, raising itself from the ground and revealing a great wall that curved around half the oasis’ pool. Upon it sat names and depictions of acts of bravery against styllized monsters, chiseled into the stone’s muddied colors. In the center held the symbol of the sun, and within it the moon, the same as the one that sat on the Obsidian Spire.

“The Brotherhood,” the voice said. “When it was founded, there were many, and its task clear. They were the secret watchmen, the invisible hand that guided the Empire and protected its interests from the chaos that was always present in its lands. Though I am affiliated with them, I was never a part of their official order, truly making Yhimit the last of their ranks. In addition, every ruler of the Empire has always been a member of the Brotherhood… that is, until your father.”

“He wasn’t part of it… why? Did the Brotherhood see no reason to include him? Did he not meet their standards?”

“Emperor Nazhrus was not included for the simple fact that his lifetime fell within the period that the Brotherhood’s arcanists believed that the Trickster would return. He lived a good life, a full life, and guided the Empire admirably during his reign. But it was known that he would die, and so we decided upon not further burdening him with the knowledge of his last days.”

“And you couldn’t save him?” Kandro asked impassively, though his heart churned at the words. “Despite his inevitable death, he is our ruler, a loved leader of our people. His presence would have given us a great morale boost… and they would not be left with an untried prince who left his home only to see it burning when he returned.”

“We could not save him,” the voice said. The stone on the wall melded back into a flattened slate, reshaping itself into a visage of the Trickster, a grimacing skull with wide wings and burning eyes, reaching with a great claw to encompass their small world in his palm. “We could not risk letting the Trickster know of our plan. Your father was to fall ill, as was prophesied, an act that the Trickster had no hand in, but was paramount to the moment of his return.

“It was an act that was set in stone. And to an extent, in your father’s great wisdom, he, too, realized his impending death. It was why he sent you off to find the Paragon and the Protector, and ask them for aid. Much of the city’s preparations in the recent months were on his order, done in the dead of night and only by men he trusted. It is why the civilians were quickly evacuated, why Fort Renot still stands due to triple-focused wards against the demons, and why the Trickster himself could only return to this world through Renascence itself: to use the crown jewel of the Empire as bait.”

“My father used Renascence as bait? For the Trickster?”

“He did. Though the demons had always held the ability to spontaneously appear anywhere in the Empire, actually being able to force their way through to our world was something that could only be achieved with a particular focus. Those that appeared in the period leading to the Trickster’s return were merely scouts, testing our defenses, and searching for the greatest weak point, where our magic was gathered, to wrest away for their own purposes. One that they found all too easily.”

“The city itself.” Kandro shook his head and frowned, closing his eyes as he steadied his breathing. Like all problems, and all solutions, it stemmed from magic. The Empire’s search for it, the need to gather, control, contain as much of it as possible had only led to their downfall. “Bled and slaughtered like cattle. I would have never assumed that our magic would be our undoing.”

“But your father did. And he planned, planned into the dim light of the night, behind closed doors at the festivals, in short conversations with his council while walking through the halls of the palace. This is a game that you will learn to play in time, Prince Kandro, but that is a task when you ascend to the throne. For now, our conversation is finished.”

Kandro looked up at the sky and said, “No wise words before you part with me?”

“There are none. You have seen the enemy, and you know you will not win, more than anything I could ever tell you with words. My advice still stands: seek the wall. I should mention that I’ve no love for obtuse riddles. You will find this puzzle easy to decipher. However, your immediate concern should be your escape to Renascence.”

“Your aid is appreciated. And will I ever meet you in person, strange spirit?” Kandro asked.

“There will be no need for introduction, Prince Kandro, for we have already met.”

Kandro stood, glancing around the oasis as the sky faded to an empty gray. The trees grew, towering above him, and the shrubbery that once was restrained to the circle of foliage around him began to grow alarmingly quickly. Vines danced their way through and above the water, grass touched the shins of his boots, and that falling sensation again took hold of him.

“If we’ve met, then I do not recall ever introducing myself to you,” Kandro said, calmly awaiting his fate as his consciousness began to wane. “And your peculiar speech would not have gone unheeded by my ears…”

“My name echoes throughout eternity, Prince Kandro. Rest assured that our second introduction will bear no surprise on either of our parts.”

Kandro opened his mouth to reply, but felt no voice traveling through the great emptiness he stood in now. He closed his eyes and rested again, and his mind drifted. The pressure of fallen stone grew heavier on his limbs, and the sounds of battle pulled his mind through the immaterial realm, hastening him back to reality.

“Over here!” Twilight shouted. “I found him!” She gently pulled Kandro up by the shoulders, lightly dragging his body over so he could rest against a boulder that was once part of the road that they stood on. She undid the buckle on Kandro’s chinstrap and pulled his helmet off, hastily looking him over for injuries.

“Ugh…” Kandro said as Twilight tapped her hoof against his cheek. His head wobbling, he opened his eyes to see Twilight sigh in relief. “The others…” he croakily said. “Where are they?”

“They’re on their way,” Twilight said. Her magic touched his armor, patting him down as she spread the field out to his extremities. “Nothing serious, thank goodness. Looks like we all got out unharmed.”

“We fell from the Spire,” Kandro said. He sat the Blade’s sheath on his lap, tapping the leather as a self-confirmation that the weapon was still with him. Rubble surrounded them, and he heard the dragon roaring as its form glided by and pulled higher into the sky as it returned to its perch at the palace. “You say we all made it out unharmed? That fall would have been fatal to anyone.”

“Well, I used the magic as a cushion,” Twilight said, her pleased tone tempered by her sheepishness. “The shield broke, but we managed to slap another one together just in time, right before it hit us. The shield kept us all alive, but the ground wasn’t so lucky. It gave way, and we all would have plummeted to our deaths when I decided to use the shield as a net to catch us all.”

“Clever thinking. A utilitarian function, but a safety net to stop our fall? How boxed in by our own limitations with magic that such a thought might have never occurred to me, or even Artim, as trained as he is.” He looked at her with a thankful smile. “We are indebted to you, Twilight. Myself and every man that fell with us.”

“You can thank me later,” she said. “And I’m not so sure that it’s all good news…”

“What?” Twilight sighed as he blinked in confusion. “What’s happened?”

“Captain Ghiraza is hurt,” she said, shaking her head. “The demons were all over the place when we fell. Ghiraza was the first one back on his feet, and he went to gather all the survivors. He ended up getting wounded in the process.”

“How badly?” Kandro asked.

“He took a couple of injuries to his sword arm from one of the demon lieutenants, the ones with the greatswords. We patched him up, but he’s in no condition to be fighting.” Twilight’s head perked up as her ears folded towards the rubble in front of them. Her horn fired a small bolt, causing the head of the curious imp to explode. “I don’t even know how we’re going to get out of the city now, Prince Kandro. We’re just lucky that the dragon didn’t come down here to finish us off.”

“Plan’s in the crapper, and we’re all headless grass hens.” Reugas landed next to them, kneeling down to look Kandro over. “You seem to be fine, m’lord. Can you walk?”

“I’ll be fine,” Kandro said. “What of the others?”

“Gone already, to the gates that took us here from Fort Renot.” He pointed at the outer walls, where the towers burned and the winged demons congregated on the parapets. “Artim says if the gates aren’t an option, we’ll have to make a leap over the walls and into the Roaring River. Flows northerly, he says, dropping us maybe a couple of days’ time away from Lherren on foot.”

“And of Fort Renot? Have they already evacuated?”

“No idea, m’lord. If they already have, there’s honestly no way we can tell from where we are.” He fidgeted, tapping his fingers against his bow as they listened to a roar come from the Spire. The sound held an unnatural tone, not primordial and strong like the dragon’s or any of the demons’, like a horn being blown, an droning sound that echoed through the space. “Things just keep getting better, don’t they?”

“Creatures of the void,” Kandro said, standing with helmet in one hand and rubbing away the soreness in his arms with the other. Twilight and Reugas followed, exiting the ruins with him as they entered what remained of the city block. From where he stood, Kandro could see the battlements of the outer walls, putting them far closer than he had assumed. “How did we get so far away from the Spire? The walls are so close.”

“The net worked really well,” Twilight said. “For us, that is. I used Artim’s own empyrean magic as an amplifier for mine, and that was how I managed to create a weightlessness spell which I combined with a hastily-modified cloudwalking spell, dampening our speed just enough before we landed. The wagons, though… um, we’ll have to write those off.”

Reugas chuckled. “Before we landed, she says. A second longer and we’d all have been dots of berry jam smeared all over the ground. I imagine you’ll have a thing or two to teach the arcanists at Lherren, those codgers.”

“More than a fair few,” Kandro said. “Assuming that we reach it. Can you attempt a teleport here, Twilight? Take us to the gate, maybe?”

“I’m sorry,” Twilight said, her voice cracking with hints of fatigue. “I wish I could, but the spell took a lot out of me. The most I can do is cast some basic manipulation spells, and protect myself. Artim told me that the shield’s energy was expended trying to protect us from the dragon’s attack and never returned to us, so it’ll take time for it to recharge.”

The city was devoid of human activity, rife with the pillaging and destruction of the Trickster’s forces as they continued to push outward. Explosions of smoke, gray on black through the miasma, broadcasted the increasing presence of the creatures as the portal above the Spire, once merely a swirling font of energy that sat atop the imperial palace, now encompassed all of the city’s sky. The city gates remained half-sealed at a distance.

“They’re not there yet,” Kandro said as they took a shortcut that led them back to the main thoroughfare. “Are all the others with them?” he asked Reugas. “The other Pillars and Elements, Ghiraza, and all of his men?”

“That was the plan,” Reugas replied. “A group like theirs is sure to attract attention. Maybe they’ve been bogged down. Should we try to find them?”

“With the other pillars and ponies with them, they should be fine.” Kandro brought them to the side of the highway, where a rising road led back to the main street they had walked down earlier. They ascended, only to stop when a demon’s body was sent flying off of the roadway above and landed with a crunch on the street below them. “I’d say they’re doing well enough.”

They reached the top of the stairs when Twilight’s horn flared and Reugas had his bow drawn as soon as Kandro felt the sharp edge of a sword against his throat. “Ancestors take you, I thought we’d lost you,” Sehyia said with a deep sigh, lowering her sword as she looked him over. “You look like a mess.”

“To be expected with the fall we’ve taken. I’ve heard that Ghiraza is injured. Where is he?”

“I… what?” Sehyia looked between the three of them as the remainder of the soldiers behind them formed a shield wall around Artim, leaving the other ponies and the Pillars to fend off the demons in the open. “Wasn’t he with you? He left a while ago to go looking for you!”

“We thought he was with you! That’s why we came here!” Twilight said.

“Curse this misfortune,” Kandro muttered. “Reugas, can you find him?”

“M’lord, I honestly don’t think this is the time to—”

“Can you do it, Reugas?”

Reugas silently regarded Kandro for a moment, taken aback by his terse interruption. “I believe I can, m’lord… but we’re at risk of being cut off from Fort Renot. I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Kandro said. “I won’t leave the city without him. I won’t leave him here.” He bit his lip and groaned angrily, pacing restlessly around. “He was a fool to go search for me. He can’t use magic, surely such an important fact wouldn’t have slipped his mind! I can fend for myself against these demons, he can’t!”

“Please, sire,” Sehyia said, in as most neutral a tone she could manage. “I must urge that we prioritize our escape. We cannot risk our entire group here for the life of one man.”

“I know, Sehyia,” Kandro said through gritted teeth. He stared wistfully at the Capital Spire, seeing his home fallen to their eternal enemy. “I’m sorry, Ghiraza.” He sighed and nodded, composing himself. “You’re right, Sehyia. Damn it, that old man… I hope he can catch up to us.”

“Incoming!” a soldier shouted.

“Is it the dragon again?” Tehin shouted, barreling around the rear of the shield formation and sweeping wide with his staff, knocking an entire line of imps into the air.

“No, it’s—!”

A black form darted out from the darkness inhumanly quick, slamming into the shield formation and knocking them all aside as if they were mere cups on a table. As the others skittered away from the beast and attempted to regroup, the demon—a massive creature with barbed tail and leathered wings—rose to its full height, towering a clear several stories tall. A stubborn soldier that it grasped in its gargantuan hands was crushed before it smirked and dropped the corpse to the dusty road.

“Just our luck,” Reugas said. He fired a bow that pierced through the miasma, and for a moment, the beast’s complete form was revealed. At its base, the beast looked similar to the lieutenant that had attacked Tandreat, but this one was bulkier, with spines growing out of its arms and legs, and wielded a sword with a hooked end as big as itself. Reugas’ arrow pitifully embedded itself into the beast’s chest with no reaction. “Oh, shit.”

“A proper reaction in a time like this,” Kandro said. “Move it, soldiers!” He drew the Blade as he frantically waved the soldiers towards him, and the unorganized mass fled in panic, abandoning all pretense of defense and organization. “We’ll draw its attention. Just get out of here!”

“I’ll escort them to the gates,” Sehyia said, walking past him. “Will you hold it off?”

“Only for as long as we need to,” Kandro said, watching as Yhimit pulled Artim to his feet. “Twilight, take your friends and go with Sehyia.”

“But—” Twilight began to protest.

“That’s an order, Twilight. This… thing is clearly beyond our ability, and yours, too. If things turn out badly, you do not want to be here. Just go.”

Twilight’s mouth hung open as she attempted to come up with a response, but found none, ending up only nodding somberly at him. “As you wish, Prince Kandro.” She galloped for her friends, shouting to them as Yhimit dodged around the beast’s legs, slashing at its thickened hide all the while. With a nod of her head, Twilight and the others disengaged and left, giving worried looks over their shoulders at Kandro and the remainder of the Pillars.

“I expect that thing’s going to kill us before we can kill it,” Reugas said dryly.

“We’re due a windfall soon,” Kandro said. He readied his Blade, raising the weapon to eye level and directing the point of its tip in front of him as he focused. His vision swam with golden tint, and he launched himself forward, appearing at Yhimit’s side. The disciple gave a short glance to him before the beast’s tail flicked at him and he was launched into the air. “Yhimit!”

Yhimit tumbled and bounced down the road, flailing about with swords gripped in hand, rolling to a stop in front of Reugas and picked himself up as if nothing had happened. Artim’s magical blasts seemed to do nothing against the beast, faring as well as Yhimit, and now Kandro, did with swords. As the beast brought his blade down, Tehin stepped aside and attempted to deflect the blow, just narrowly, even with the force of his empyrean weapon.

“It’s not enough!” Artim shouted. “We have to get out of here!”

“Staggered fallback, then!” Tehin said.

Kandro dived backwards, seguing into a handstand before pushing himself off the ground and distancing himself from the beast. Tehin was next, proving himself fleetfooted despite his bulk, leaving only Artim left. The arcanist caught the beast’s attention, firing his spells from atop a small hill of rocks.

“Artim! Hurry!” Kandro shouted. He looked at Tehin. “Tehin, Yhimit, you’re done here! Get to the gate and keep those soldiers safe!” The two nodded and ran for the gates, leaving Kandro and Reugas to wait on Artim. “Artim! We have to go now!”

Artim nodded without even looking at him, hastily leaping down the hill as the beast’s sword cleaved the mound in two. Though beyond the reach of the strike, Artim was not out of range of its shockwave, and was knocked into the air and landed a stone’s throw away from Kandro. He gasped for breath as he got up. Kandro ran to him as Reugas’ arrows continued to work uselessly on the beast.

“Get up!” Kandro said.

“I know, I know!” Artim coughed heavily as Kandro used himself as support. The two hobbled back to Reugas’ position at a jogging pace, painfully slowly as the beast flared its wings and gave a roar of challenge before he took pursuit. “Ancestors protect, that shockwave… I can’t see straight.”

Reugas charged a shot, and finally delivered a shot to the beast that gave it pause, having the arrow—less of an arrow and more of a lance—collide with the beast’s knee and causing it to trip over itself. The ranger let out a shout of triumph before adjusting his tactic to match. The arrows glided over Kandro’s and Artim’s heads as they passed him for the gates.

“Finally got something to work, huh, Reugas?” Artim said, chuckling weakly.

“I don’t expect this to work for long. This bastard can absorb my shots like a needle on steel,” Reugas said. “I don’t even think the arrows are penetrating, only that the shots have enough force to keep him at bay.”

“Artim, can you run?” Kandro asked.

“One foot in front of the other, shouldn’t be too hard,” Artim said, stumbling as he stepped onto a rock and misgauged his next step. “Damn it all!” He shook his head, pulling Kandro along as he broke into a clumsy run. “The one thing… that the empyrean magic… does not do… is provide you… with a resistance to force,” he wheezed.

They approached the gates as flapping wings and snarling maws grew steadily louder, closing in on their prey waiting there. Tehin was standing with Sehyia, the only ones on the city’s side of the gate. The others waited behind it, their forms seen darting about as Yhimit’s swords carved crescent flashes through the air.

“There! We’ve almost made it!” Kandro said.

“Son of a—watch yourselves, the thing’s taking to the air!” Reugas shouted.

Daring to look behind Kandro saw the beast rise high into the sky, blotting out the forms of the winged demons as if a man to an ant, and dive towards them. Ahead, the gates were close, easily close, but Tehin and Sehyia pointed to the skies to warn them of what they already knew was descending upon them.

“Reugas, Kandro, brace yourselves!” Artim said, a ribbon of golden energy slithering around his free arm. “I can do it… just one more shield…”

“You’re in no condition to be doing anything,” Kandro said.

“With all due respect, sire, we’re not all Tehin. I’m not willing to chance our survival on you trying to deflect his blade or any of us to dodge.” He raised his arm, flattening his hand with a finger pointed at the gate. “Hold on.”

Like the one he had invoked earlier, this shield was similar in form, but only large enough to cover the three of them. The beast floated high, pulling its arm back for its imminent attack. Then it dove, again, but like a hawk diving to catch its prey, far too speedy for a massive thing like itself. A purple glow was left in its wake, a flash of color that Kandro only glimpsed before he looked away and tensed himself, eyes tightly shut.

He lost track of his senses, and felt as if he were floating. The world spun around him, glowing yellow as Artim’s shield had done its part to prevent their total obliteration. The reprieve of calm was broken as he violently slammed into the ground, tumbling along the road as the world continued to spin, and he grew dizzy. Bringing his right hand close to avoid cutting himself with the Blade, his left hand was empty, and there was no Artim beside him.

Kandro at last took in a sharp breath as he came to a stop on his back. His ears rung, and the miasma’s stench only seemed to have intensified the last he’d taken to noticing it. Muffles popped in and out of his hearing, faint shouts that grew to call his name as his mind became clear.

“Kandro!” Artim’s voice was distant. “Get up! Get up now, sire!”

Taking heed of Artim’s words, Kandro began to rise when he found his head refamiliarizing itself with the ground again at a breakneck speed. His sturdy helmet, however, absorbed the blow and he found a giant hand pinning him to the ground. He struggled, but found no purchase, and he was left at the mercy of the beast as he stared into its eyes, filled with malicious glee.

All the while, Artim and Reugas continued to pour bolt after bolt, arrow after arrow to no avail. The beast slowly brought the hook of his sword above Kandro, holding the weapon in clear view and showing what it meant to do, before it began to lower the weapon to his neck. Kandro knocked himself about, but with all of his body below his neck completely immobilized, his movements did nothing to faze the beast’s grasp.

“Prince Kandro! No!” Sehyia’s voice was mixed in with Artim’s, and he heard the scurrying taps of her boots. He looked up, viewing the world upside down to see her approaching, her slender sword in hand and her coat picking up dust behind her.

Kandro frowned. “Sehyia! Stop!” he said, straining as his breath was continually squeezed out of his body by the beast’s grip. “Don’t come any closer!”

“What?” Sehyia did as asked, coming to a walking stop, but looked at Kandro with surprise. “But you—”

“Take the others!” he interrupted, wriggling around when he gasped as the beast flattened its hand and he felt the stone underneath his back crack with the impact. His body screamed out in pain. “Just get out of here!”

“I will absolutely not!” Sehyia disappeared in a flash of light, reappearing bounding through the air with her legs straightened and flat. She impacted the blade, knocking it back and pushing it into the beast’s chest. She hastily pulled Kandro out from underneath the hand, dragging him away as fast as she could manage before the beast recuperated. It growled in displeasure, and flicked its hand at her.

Sehyia yelped as she was thrown back. “Sehyia!” Kandro said, rolling to his knees. Pain shot through his chest, and he found himself short of breath. He gritted his teeth and limped forward, and he saw Artim preparing another spell: again a shield, but for Kandro himself. Kandro’s lips thinned into a tense line as he felt every muscle in his body strain to keep him upright.

Ahead, he saw Sehyia’s body, splayed out in the middle of the road, with Tehin crouching down to pick her up. Her body did not move as he slung her over his shoulder, returning to the gate where he left her in the care of Fluttershy. Kandro felt pained: at himself, for letting her put herself at risk, and at her for refusing to heed his command. He was broken out of his thoughts when he heard a deep groaning, as if the earth itself was moving, and saw that the beast’s sword was set to collide with his shield.

His predicament repeated: he was thrown astray and landed with a dose of nausea, and he found himself underneath the beast’s palm again. He found himself too weak to resist, finding that even the call of empyrean magic was too fleeting, too weak to be used. With the beast’s glow of magic now surrounding its horns, it must have held the same leeching ability as the dragon. He swallowed hard and awaited his fate.

“Not today, demon!” Kandro’s eyes widened at the sound of that booming voice. The beast looked around, languidly turning his head as its jagged jaw curved into a frown, like one that a person would give a fly that continued to buzz around the ears. But the casual pass of the threat the voice held worked against it this time, as its wings exploded in holy fire.

The beast howled, recoiling and dropping its greatsword, rearing up onto its hind legs and freeing Kandro from its grasp. Its muscles twitched and spasmed as golden lightning struck at its body, originating from the tip of the staff that Captain Ghiraza held in his bloodied hands. It was a ornate antique, a craft of wood and gold, with a gem with a color of the whitest snow at the tip of its crown.

Ghiraza pushed the beast back as he circled around to join with Kandro. “You… you’re still alive!” Kandro said, accepting Ghiraza’s hand as they backed away from the entrapped creature. “I thought you were dead!”

“Many times I thought the same thing,” Ghiraza said, drips of blood coming out of his mouth. He coughed heavily, barely managing to hold his staff steady to direct the arcs that originated from it. “Come now, Kandro, let us be rid of this city.”

“You’re hurt,” Kandro whispered. “You are in no shape to fight. Let the others take you to safety, I will manage the staff myself.” He reached over only to have Ghiraza immediately slap his hand away.

“No,” Ghiraza said. “This staff will not answer to you. This giant beast will be held at bay so long as I wield it. Let us get to the gates, quickly now.”

Artim and Reugas rendezvoused with them, repelled the onslaught of demons that trickled in, at first frightened away by the beast’s appearance but now emboldened by it. “Ghiraza!” Artim said, walking with them. “You’re alive! And what an entrance you’ve made. Just where did you get that staff? Weren’t you going to find Kandro?”

“I knew our prince would be well, so I didn’t leave to find him,” Ghiraza said. “I left to find this weapon. A thing of the past, now our only hope in escaping here alive. You asked whether there was anything in the wagons we could use in the war, Prince Kandro. Here it stands before you.”

“This staff…” Kandro found himself looking at the ground. “The voice lied…” he whispered to himself.

“Hurry, hurry now!” Tehin shouted as they drew closer. “Tyermos stopped by a while ago. The rest of the troops have fled with him. Fort Renot is being evacuated as we speak. The demons are already spawning within its walls, and Tiraen and Empress Aleyia are fleeing north with what remains of the Crown Legion to Lherren.”

“Wait, then we really are going to jump into the river?” Rainbow asked. She looked over the railing and gulped nervously at the whitewater. “At least ‘Shy and I can fly…”

“The Roaring River will take you far from here, and close enough to Lherren,” Ghiraza said, pouring his staff’s lightning through the small opening that the gates left, incinerating any demon attempting to forge through. The beast beyond, flightless, picked up its sword, glaring at him before returning to the Spire. “Go now, all of you. I will stop them from following you for as long as I can.”

“You’re hurt,” Kandro repeated. “You’re in no condition to fight.”

Ghiraza chuckled bitterly, as Fluttershy came to inspect his wounds. The pegasus peeled away his armor and cloth, recoiling in horror when she stared at his chest—or rather, what was left of it. “You see now… I was never a user of magic. The staff demands payment for its power, and when magic cannot be provided… one’s life can be substituted.”

“It’s killing you!” Twilight said. “I can apply some healing magic, at least help you get on the road to regenerating it. We can sanitize it, wrap it up, and you’ll be fine!”

“That’s not the payment I was talking about, young pony. I was already a dead man before I found this staff. It’s the only thing keeping me alive at this moment. The winged demons found me before I could get to the wagon, and they pecked and clawed away at me.” He shook his head, speaking strongly and without pain. “But I found the staff in time. A relic of the old age, Prince Kandro, gifted to an old brotherhood of vigilant men and women by the Founders of Lherren.”

Yhimit took notice, joining in on the conversation with folded arms.

“You know of the Brotherhood?” Artim asked him.

“Indeed,” Ghiraza spoke sadly. “I am the last living member of the Brotherhood.”

“But Yhimit here… he is part of the Brotherhood. He even confirmed it himself,” Rarity said. “Surely you cannot mean that the organization has long since died out? There must be more of you, right?” She looked back and forth between the two. “...Right?”

“We had no new recruits, not for the past century. Our task had been done, and we saw no need to add more to our ranks.” He smiled at Yhimit. “Though it seems that someone else had other ideas.”

“And you’re sure of this… how?” Kandro asked.

“I was the grandmaster of the Brotherhood for that last generation, Prince Kandro. I would know if we inducted anyone into our ranks, since it must be done with the grandmaster’s approval.” He waved them away. “Now, away with you all. You deny an honorable man a good death, and I’d rather not have you all join me on my journey to the afterlife.”

“Ghiraza… thank you,” Kandro said.

“I need no words from you, my prince. I’ve done all that I can. The dreams told me of what would happen here today, and the dreams tell me that you will succeed. I have faith in them, in all of you, and the Paragon and Protector’s charges.”

“Dreams?! Then—”

“I’ve said too much.” He waved his hand, and levitated them all off the bridge and over the Roaring River. “Ancestors protect you all… and may the First bless you with his wisdom.” He closed his hand, and they fell far to the waters beneath.

Author's Note

Wow, this chapter was much too long for my liking, but I suppose it was needed. Going from plot point to plot point in this chapter would have only ended up abrupt and confusing without going through that progression, even if it did end up painfully slow. That said, though, what do you all think of the voice? Do you trust it? Why or why not? And who exactly, given the clues, do you think it is?

XI: Torment

C h a p t e r 1 1 :

T o r m e n t

We know little of those who died when the Trickster first invaded. As much of the knowledge was lost over the course of the war, records on the exact nature of the burials were unknown. The most we have to go on are archives detailing total numbers dead, where they were buried, and in exceptional cases due to the nature of the enemy they fought, how they died. We know what happens if a man dies in this world. We do not know what happens to a man’s life when a great evil of insurmountable power claims it, and even as I write this, I question whether or not we will like the answer, if we ever learn the truth.

-Ghosts Walk Among Us, Grand Scholar Amadi Sol-Mahim, 1500 RY

Kandro wheezed and choked, vacating a gulp of water from his mouth as he coughed into the mud on the riverside. His eyes blurred with the dizzying feeling of nausea as he stared at the translucent blade gripped in his hand as it was plastered into the ground, his hands fighting to support him. The first to catch himself, he calmed his nerves and steadied his breathing long enough to check on the others.

Twilight had again been deft with her magic; when they had fallen into the Roaring River, the rapids had threatened to take them under time and again, and they certainly would have been taken down the river straight into the northern lands, or even drowned, had she not pulled them straight for the shore before they even met water.

Hooves and feet stomped onto the wet ground as the sounds of relieved sighs and groans of exhaustion were aired among them. Bodies plopped onto the ground as the remainder that still crawled onto shore embraced the soft purchase of the unmoving earth.

Artim was the only one to avoid falling, instead deciding to move further inland to rest at the base of a tall tree. “Once again, Twilight, we owe you our lives,” he said, scraping off the drying mud from his boots using the tree’s roots. “As you can see, swimming in the Roaring River is a foolish affair.”

“Yeah…” Twilight was splayed out flat on the shore as the river’s waters lapped at her rear hooves. Her robes were stained with mud, although the shining magic of the cloth had begun to tear away at the grime and strived to return it to its pristine state, an action that all of their regalia followed. “Th-that… let’s not do that again…”

A crack, like a bolt of lightning striking the ground, tore through the air and they all arched their heads to look. Where Ghiraza stood on the bridge to Fort Renot seemed to glow afire with powerful magic as a golden maelstrom began to materialize, its focus the glowing white gem that burned so brightly that it was a pinprick of blinding light, even at a distance.

“Ghiraza…” Kandro said. “That staff… such powerful magic. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“An enchanted artifact,” Artim said, patting down his bandages with a dry cloth from his bag to rid himself of the uncomfortable moisture. “One of many of our arts lost to time, the same as the Legacy of the First. To think that we once were able to not only wield magic as simply as breathing air, we could do greater things with it. Wonders like that staff, although the price for it being as steep as it is would be no favorable resource to have at hand.”

A round of gasps were elicited from the whole group as the light, impossibly bright at it is, began to grow seemingly ever brighter. A great dome of empyrean magic began to enclose Renascence, growing from the skies above the portal and encircling the entire city up to its walls. The staff called down righteous bolts from the heavens, and struck down every demon that attempted to escape, smiting them from the ground and air and stemming the spread of the Trickster’s influence.

The earth shuddered and quaked at the presence of such powerful energy. Rocks and dust fell off the bridge by the number as it began to crumble, and Ghiraza’s staff began to flicker as the shield that protected him began to fade. “What in tarnation is that man doin’?” Applejack asked. “Did he seriously just drop a whole dome over the entire city?”

Twilight’s mouth hung open in awe. “The fact that he can even achieve such a powerful spell like that only means that what he was speaking about the artifact was true. Even my brother’s shield during his wedding is like a marble compared to this… and he was barely able to keep it up the whole time!”

“He’s planning to seal off the whole city,” Reugas said. “Not permanently, I’d wager. But it’d be enough to buy us some time to escape safely.”

“Speaking of which,” Sehyia chimed in, wringing out the last of the water from her flowing skirt before she primped her hair. “I believe now would be a good time to gather our things and make haste north for Lherren. We must find General Tiraen and the Empress and notify them of our situation, while we still can.”

“But we’re far from the main roads, and there are still plenty of the creatures roaming the countryside,” Tehin said. His staff remained none the worse for wear as he slung it across his back, and he looked to the hills behind them. “We are far from the city… perhaps farther than we would like.”

“Tehin’s right,” Rarity said, shaking her head as droplets from her mane sprayed in every direction. “We do not have your sandrunners, so it’d be dangerous to attempt a journey via the road. Perhaps we can find another way, or obtain faster transportation?”

“If we go north from where we are now, it will take us directly to Lherren,” Artim said. He unclasped his bag and withdrew a small book from within, nodding in thanks as the pages remained unsullied. “Therein lies our problem, of course. We must go through cursed ground to reach our destination.”

“Yes,” Tehin said, his voice low as he folded his arms. “The Plains of Eternal Spite.”

“A name like that doesn’t really make it sound like a place we want to travel through,” Rainbow said. “You sure we can’t just walk around?”

“Going around would at least double the time—that’s four days— it would take for us to reach Lherren, if not triple, and that is a chance we cannot take. We don’t know how long Ghiraza’s shield will hold,” Artim said. He nodded his head towards the spectacle, and they all followed his gaze. As if on cue, Ghiraza’s shield exploded, taking his entire half of the bridge along with it as the shockwave cascaded out from the epicenter and tossing up dirt into their eyes. “By the First!” Through the fading light, the great figure of the behemoth they had encountered was present, a leg and arm obliterated by the explosion, and they watched as blood poured from its wounds and splattered onto the bridge columns as it plummeted into the river below.

“Farewell, Ghiraza,” Kandro said, clasping his right hand shut over his chest as he bowed to the late soldier. He righted his helmet and rapped a short rhythm on his chestplate to gain their attention. “Artim is right: we have no choice. The longer we take, the sooner the demons will reach Lherren, and we cannot chance that. We march north… and pray that the ghosts tolerate our trespass.”

“Er… ghosts?” Fluttershy asked. She shrank away from his gaze as he looked to her. “I… I don’t like the sound of that.”

“Well, we can just giggle at the ghosties, right?” Pinkie said. “They can’t be that—”

“Pinkie,” Tehin began. “These aren’t the sorts of ghosts you experienced in Equestria. These are restless dead we are speaking of here, not things of shadow.”

“The Plains were the first atrocity committed by the Trickster at the onset of the conflict following his appearance,” Artim said, stowing away the book and recalling the details from memory. “Thousands of civilians evacuated across the great savannah to escape the western lands where the Trickster’s armies advanced from, with half as many soldiers with them. They never reached safety.”

“What… what happened?” Twilight asked.

“The Plains of Eternal Spite gained its name for a reason. It’s a graveyard, a place filled with statues of every man, woman, and child of that doomed group, all dead, dying, or stricken with terror as their forms were petrified. It’s cursed ground, because it is widely assumed that their souls were never allowed to pass on to the afterlife.”

“And we’re going to have to go through that,” Applejack said flatly.

“Yes. We have been blessed with empyrean magic.” Artim looked away, frowning as he delved into thought. “Though I’m not sure whether that will help. While the energies of the void and empyrean are diametrically opposed to each other, their conflicting properties may not help when it comes to dealing with active ghosts. They are not chaotic, merely deposed without rest.”

“Their passing was at the hands of the Trickster, though,” Reugas said, already making his way up the hill, pausing halfway to let the others catch up with him. “We’ve all read of the expeditions. It’s as cursed as the Tomb of the First, except with this one, we know where to find it.”

“And that’s the other thing: we don’t know if there are actually ghosts in there, or something else,” Sehyia said. “If we’re lucky, ghosts and nerve-wracking eeriness will be all we have to deal with.”

“And if we run into something worse...?” Rainbow asked.

Sehyia shrugged. “Then we’d best hope that it bleeds when cut.”

The sun beat down on their backs with its scathing touch as they continued north. No longer were the deadened gray and black of Renascence’s skies present; now, so far from its destruction, normalcy had returned. They had returned to the Empire’s lands now, passing through tufts of dry brush and rolling hills of picturesque sands as they made their way towards Lherren.

“The scholars will be more than ecstatic to see us, if not myself since I’ve been gone for too long,” Artim said, his voice a tired drone as his hand reached for his canteen. He attempted to squeeze what remained of the precious liquid from the hide-bound flask, only to receive only a few meager drops on his tongue. “And we’d best find somewhere to rest soon. We will not make it much longer without stopping for rest and water.”

“How much longer do we have to march, anyhow?” Applejack said, panting with exertion as she dragged her hoof and shook it loose of sand. “Can’t say that the folks who made these armors didn’t have the sun in mind… these things are mite more drafty than wearing straight up clothes.”

“Form and function, my dear Applejack,” Rarity said, struggling to move her hooves forward. “Though I do… have to agree… it feels like we’ve been at this for eternity.”

“Reugas, what say you to this predicament?” Kandro asked. “Do you know of any spot where we can rest in this region?” They reached the bottom of another dune, only for the group to look up at yet another that they had to traverse. Reugas came down their previous hill on his rear, paying no attention to the sand that ingrained itself into the fabric of his pants.

“Not that I know of, m’lord,” he said. “The sands here bear no fruit in food or water to any traveler. But we have been traveling north of Renascence for a while now, so we must be nearing the savannahs. There, we will find our reprieve.”

“One step closer to the Plains,” Artim said. “The sun won’t be at our backs for much longer. It’s beginning to set.” The solar sphere sported a bloody orange, situated behind a hazy mirage as the heat still stood strong over the course of their journey. As they reached the apex of the next dune, Artim stopped. “Look!” He pointed into the distance. “I think I see an oasis. There’s a valley here, and it’s right in the center of it!”

“Mirages can be dangerous, Artim,” Tehin said. “Are you sure that it’s real, and not your eyes playing tricks?” Tehin joined him and raised a hand to block the light from his squinting eyes. “Blast, I see it, too… Reugas, want to make a bet?”

“Twenty crowns. It’s a fake,” came the immediate reply. Reugas smirked at him and gestured to the palm trees wavering in the distance. “Come on, man, the moment Artim said ‘oasis’, your mind started looking for one, even if it isn’t real. Hell, even I see it, too.”

“Better than nothing,” Twilight said. She sighed as a breeze caught in her hood and rippled the cloth as its sweet coolness blew past her ears. “I feel a bit… dizzy…”

“You’re still recovering from your effort in Renascence, Twilight,” Sehyia said, putting a hand on her back to reassure the unicorn. “It’s only expected that you would feel exhausted, especially when you had to act again so soon after saving us from the fall off of the Spire.”

“No, it’s not like…” Twilight bit her lower lip and looked away. “It’s not like that. I don’t feel tired, I just feel… drowsy. Like… my mind is in a haze, and all the details seem to be passing me by.” She looked at Artim, her brows curved with worry. “Don’t you feel it, too? It’s like…” She paused, blinking idly for several moments before scrunching her face in concentration. “Like something is trying to dampen my acuity.”

“I’m afraid I feel nothing of the sort, Twilight,” Artim said. He patted Reugas on the shoulder and gestured down the hill. “Reugas, take point. If anything, with your eyes, we’ll at least be able to determine whether or not what we see really is an oasis.” Reugas nodded, holding tight onto the bowstring that burrowed into his chestplate as he slid down the slope.

“You just need rest, sugarcube,” Applejack said, patting Twilight on the back. “We’ll get to somewhere safe soon enough, and you can lay your head down and get some real rest. I think it’s ‘bout time that all of us got some good shuteye to clear our minds.”

They descended, following the parallel lines of Reugas’ slide and watched as the ranger came to the top of a smaller dune in the distance. He raised his arms and held them high with two thumbs up, and shouted, “It’s an oasis, alright! Twenty crowns to you, Tehin, you bastard!”

“Thank the ancestors,” Sehyia said. As they approached the pocket of life amid the desert, Reugas begrudgingly handed off his crowns to Tehin, staring at the coins falling out of his hand as they fell into Tehin’s gauntleted palm with a series of clinks.

“You win this time. Spend it on something nice, will you?” Reugas said, walking away before Tehin could air his response. The quartermaster simply gave a hearty laugh in response, and the whole group found themselves tugging to take off their equipment before they reached the first blades of grass at the periphery of the oasis. The air became humid, cooled by the shade of the trees, and soothed their irritated noses.

“Sweet crisp water,” Artim said, bending down low to refill his canteen as he fiddled with his fingers submerged beneath the surface. The others began to fan out, finding appropriate locations to bed down and patted the area clean of residue and pests, except for Twilight. He heard the soft thumping of hooves against the ground and turned his head to peek at Twilight from behind the corner of his hood. “Something wrong, Twilight?”

“It’s… I’m serious,” she said, stamping her hoof gently onto the ground and kicking up a small cloud of dust. “It’s been really hard for me to think straight. I… do you think being able to wield this much power can affect us?”

“If it can, Twilight, then I’m afraid that it’s a price we must pay,” Artim said. He withdrew his canteen from the pool, handing it out towards Twilight. “Drink. We’ve been traveling for the past half day now, and Applejack is right: it’ll do us well to finally rest.” Twilight looked between the canteen and Artim, only accepting when he pushed it closer to her face. She held the canteen over her mouth and wringed the liquid out of the vessel. The cool touch of the drink cleared her mind, if only a little.

“There,” he continued, smiling as Twilight returned it to him. He topped it off and stowed it away on his belt, beckoning for Twilight to follow him, and they both took a seat in the shade of a palm tree, where they could see the others attending to their recuperation. Twilight’s ears twitched as she frowned at the ground. “Now, then. Describe to me in detail what you are feeling. While I do believe you are overreacting… there may be other symptoms, to an extent.”

“I know, and I have a feeling that the others are worried that it might be something else, too…” she began. Rainbow Dash conversed with Fluttershy as they stepped out of their metal boots, dipping their hooves into the water. Next to them, Applejack, Rarity, and Pinkie Pie were already laying out the beginnings of their sleeping mats, made from spare cloth split by Rarity with her magic. Twilight averted Rainbow’s gaze when the pegasus broke from her conversation to throw her a curious glance. “But I don’t want to worry them.”

“It’s worse to avoid being open with your problems, Twilight,” Artim said, fidgeting in place as he settled into his cross-legged position. “We are going through tough times, and we have to learn to rely upon each other for support. No soldier in the history of the Empire ever won a battle by himself. Not even the First.”

“Not even Yhimit?” she asked, eyeing the disciple as he only leaned against a tree, observing the others. Not even sitting, he showed no signs of the fatigue that plagued the others, never even stopping once to reach for the canteen that hung unused from his belt. “He seems…”

“Different?” Artim chuckled. “Even Captain Ghiraza seemed to have more of an idea than any of us do. He’s not a member of the Brotherhood, despite his claims and the information he had with him… which I find quite interesting.” He stared at Yhimit with a studying eye as he whipped out a hand-sized notebook along with a quill and a small inkwell before taking down his spoken note. “Perhaps he is one. Not officially, of course, but I digress. You say you feel… drowsy, but not tired. Please elaborate.”

Artim looked at her, only to find a blank stare fixated on the crest of dunes around them. He waved a hand in front of her face, then gently patted her on the side of her face, and only when he snapped his fingers next to her ears did she finally return to reality. “Uh, what?” she blinked and the glaze over her eyes disappeared. “Hmm? Were you… saying something?”

“I think you need to explain what you’re experiencing,” Artim said. “You just dozed off. With your eyes open, in front of me. You were staring at the horizon.”

“Yeah, the horizon, and beyond that. That’s where they are.”

“Who is ‘they’?”

“The lost ones, of course. At the Plains of Eternal Spite, like you said. Lost souls, forever unable to escape to the afterlife, forever tormented to suffer the ends of their lives until the world is consumed.” Her head turned, and while her eyes flickered with awareness, her expression was deathly empty. “I don’t feel scared, Artim, but I should be. I don’t know what’s happening.”

“Twilight, what’s going on? What’s happened to you?” He checked her over for injuries, prying his way through the layers of cloth and then checking her head for blunt injuries. Her mane billowed with the light wind as he removed her hood, and he found her unscathed. “Is it your magic? What’s causing this?”

“What? What are you talking about?” Twilight blinked, and looked down at her body. “When did I take my hood off? Wait, no, this… Artim, I just had the strangest dream.”

Artim was already scribbling furiously in his notebook. “Tell me. You’ve just lapsed judgement thrice, all within the span of several minutes, Twilight. Something is happening to you.”

“No, it’s just that… well, that feeling I told you about earlier? That drowsiness? That’s not drowsiness. It’s… well, it’s something else.” She looked out at the dunes again, ignoring his piercing stare. “The magic. It’s still here. It’s deep, hidden far away where it can’t be touched. Hiding, waiting, hoping for the day where the Trickster is driven away from these lands.”

“How do you know this?”

“Because it’s speaking to me.” Her eyelids drifted down, and she found herself mumbling. “You don’t hear it, Artim, but I do. I hear their voices, like whispers carried on the wind, traveling across this desert. My magic, they tell me. It’s my magic. I’m Princess Celestia’s personal student, a prodigy unlike anything before. It’s what makes me special, makes me able to talk to them. Because I am the Element of Magic, Artim, and I… am a conduit.”

“A conduit for their voices?” Artim asked. His pants ruffled against the sand as he moved closer to her, tapping the side of her cheek with the back of his hand. “Twilight, don’t leave me now. You’re about to make an incredibly important discovery. Tell me. Do the voices know of what we are set to do?”

“No. They’ve stopped talking to me now.” She pressed her hooves deeper into the sand, watching the sands displaced from her hooves gather. “They don’t know why we’re here. They don’t even know that we’re here. They only know that I am, and even then… they can’t communicate with me, not clearly.”

“We march through the territory on the morn,” Artim said. “Will they let us pass?”

“They will. I can at least guarantee that much.” The pair watched the others gather around the beginning of their campfire, cobbled together from what spare rocks they could find and fuel taken from the trees and brush that surrounded them. “But they showed me a vision. That was why I lost my train of thought. It felt like I was watching a different world through a window.”

“And what did this vision involve?”

“I saw Yhimit,” she said. “He was running, wearing armor I’ve never seen before. I’m sure that’s what they showed me: the past. Hundreds fleeing across the savannahs, with as half as many soldiers, all doomed to never reach safety… I saw it all.”

Yhimit joined the rest of the group, inserting himself into the circle surrounding the fire as they began to consume their rations. The sky was a soft hue of soothing orange, the upper tiers of its reach beginning to turn to Luna’s star-laden night. Artim tapped the tip of his quill against his page, a dot of ink pooling in anticipation of the next note he would take.

“You saw Yhimit… in the past,” he said.

Twilight nodded. “Yes. He was with the others, but he wasn’t wearing the armor that he’s wearing now. I couldn’t see his face, but I knew it was him. The voices told me so.” The quill began to write on its own as Twilight took control, flipping to a blank page and plastering the space with lines and dots.

Artim held the book for her, jumping when Twilight snapped her head to the page, eyes shooting about as she matched the quill’s manic pace. As the lines formed, shapes became apparent: short stubby figures with appendages that appeared to be people, dozens of them, craggy cliffs surrounding the landscape with scratches of lines blanketing the ground for the savannah’s tall grass.

And behind them all, the sky grew pitch black as she drowned the heavens in ink, leaving only a shape behind in the white space remaining. Not a shape, once she had finished, but a face: a skull with great curved horns, a jeering grin, with fiery eyes and jagged teeth. The quill rose and levitated to his face as the vision was completed, and Twilight looked at Artim with grim knowledge.

“Ancestors protect, Twilight… is this what they showed you?”

“They showed me their end,” she said. “And they also gave me one more message, one that I don’t think was meant just for me, but for all of us, or whoever might be traveling with me.”

“And what would that be?”

“That they’re waiting for us.”

“At this point, I don’t doubt any path we take on behalf of the ancestors.” Kandro raised a curious brow at Twiilght, who in turn looked to Artim. The arcanist nodded, taking the time to partake in their evening stew as they sat in a circle around the humble fire. “Though it does remain a mystery as to the extent of the power they held, if they are so able to affect us even in this day.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring bad news,” Twilight said. Artim proffered her a cup, which she gladly accepted as she took the small wooden bowl into her hooves, staring down at the muddied liquid, filled with vegetables as they rose to the surface. “But… what do you think they hope to accomplish with this?”

“Guidance, perhaps. If they cannot interact with us directly, then they must take alternate measures, like contacting us through a medium.” Kandro shuffled around in his spot, tossing another handful of tinder into the fire. “Perhaps death has affected their awareness, and even they do not fully understand what it is they do now.”

Artim handed the book around so that all could see the signs that Twilight was given. “You sure this isn’t some sort of… trap?” Rainbow Dash said, grimacing at the sight as she and Applejack shared their glance at the page. “What’s to say that this isn’t the Trickster trying to get into our heads or something?”

“I doubt it,” Artim said. “If the Trickster was truly behind this, a trap would have already been prepared and we would have no clue that we would be walking into it. Still, though: it would be unlike what we’ve seen to be notified of a trap beforehand.”

“It seems like those Plains might be a perfect place to lay one,” Applejack said. “Unless somethin’ else is stoppin’ him from doin’ so. I think I speak for all of us when I say that it’s more than a mite bit strange that we haven’t run into a single demon ‘round these parts for a long while now…”

“They could be following us, biding their time,” Sehyia said.

“That’s true, but I haven’t seen hide nor hair of the bastards since we began our walk,” Reugas said, a handful of toasted seeds gripped in his hands as he spoke with a mouth half full “The demons can hardly be called subtle, from the smallest imp to the largest beast. In small groups, they would fare badly against us, but too many and they would give themselves away.”

“So let’s just assume that the dead are, indeed, speaking to us,” Tehin interrupted. He looked at Artim and gestured to him, and then the book. “We are on the verge of a discovery that not even the most dedicated scholars in Lherren have managed. But that then raises the question: why tell us all of this? Why not just simply let us pass?”

“My best guess is that they’re protecting something,” Twilight said. “That’s what it has to be. They’re protecting something very important, something that no one can see in the fear that what it is might get out. But they know me, and I know you. They trust me, and I trust all of you. Whatever they’re guarding, it’s important for me—us to know, so that we can take it to Lherren with us.”

“The Tomb, perhaps?” Artim postulated. “It may be where the legacy that Kandro’s father spoke of may be kept within. We already hold signs of that legacy, present in the empyrean energies that bind to us all now. Perhaps we are being given knowledge based upon being recognized as holders of that ancient power, like the warriors of old.”

The book completed its round and found itself in the hands of Artim again, where it was returned to its bag. For a moment, the group sat around the fire, staring into its embers as they contemplated the next day’s advance, and Kandro looked around and opened his mouth to speak when a clap sounded off, interrupting him.

Everyone looked at Yhimit, who shook his head. “What do you mean, Yhimit?” Kandro asked. “Do you think this is a trap?” Yhimit shook his head. “That they mean well?” He nodded, although he fetched a stick next to him and began sketching in the sand in front of him. He doodled a building, blocky in its architecture and wide and encompassing, writing down the word ‘First’ in the sand before crossing it all out.

“So it’s not the Tomb, then?” Kandro said. This earned him a nod.

“This is by far the most concrete clue on the Tomb we’ve received yet,” Artim said. “So we know for a fact that we are not being led to the Tomb. Would you know what awaits us, then?” To that, Yhimit merely held his arms up and shrugged, and Artim nodded. “I figured as much. No doubt that the Plains have had few living visitors since the deaths.”

“Ill intent or not, we’ll find out what we’re trudging into come morning,” Reugas said. He patted his hands free of dirt and stood to leave. “Best get some sleep soon. Ancestors know we’ll all need it. I’ll take first watch. Who wants to go after?”

“I’ll do it,” Applejack said. “Just keepin’ an eye out for the critters and such, right?”

“Yeah, just an eye for anything suspicious. The empyrean will raise your hairs if there’s anything demonic nearby, from what experience I’ve had with it,” Reugas said, giving a part wave as he headed off to the empty space, a short span that separated the sleeping areas between the two. He found his perch on a boulder half his size, where he sat and gazed at the dunes around them.

“And if you see anything, you tell him, one of us, or all of us,” Kandro said. “I assume you’ve not done much in the way of guard duty before, so a better course of action should danger befall us should be to get us prepared as quickly as possible.”

Applejack nodded. “I know. Ain’t like I’m goin’ to take on all of ‘em by myself, right?” She chuckled, and was the next to stand as she strolled off to her sleeping mat before she was joined by Rainbow Dash. The pegasus made repeated points of her hoof at the desert around them, and the two settled down before returning to their secreted conversation on their mats.

Kandro tossed the last handful of dry shrub into the dying flames before he looked at the others, seeing the fatigue reflected in their eyes. The respite of the night had been more than welcomed, and now their bodies were beginning to set into that slump that was so normally associated with huge expenditures of power and effort. Blessed by the empyrean as they were, the energy’s potency was only as effective as its user.

“The rest of you, get some sleep. I’ll take up the shift after Applejack, and I suppose the rest will be free reign to whoever wants it,” he said.

“I’ll go after you, my liege,” Artim said. “I’ve been meaning to delve further more into the findings presented by Twilight. We might learn of the motivations behind their contact if we read between the lines. And I assure you, I can run completely fine on only a few hours of sleep.”

“Only when you’re all hopped up on tea, my friend,” Tehin said, chuckling as he slurped down the rest of his stew. “You, out of us all, should be sleeping. Your mind will drag you to your grave if you keep following it. I’ll take the watch after Prince Kandro.”

“Fine, then,” Artim said, bowing his head to the quartermaster before he followed up with one to Twilight and the others. He gave his good nights before he, and the rest began to file off one by one, eventually leaving a lone Kandro sitting at the fire.

He stared up at the night sky, watching as the stars twinkled in tandem with each other, and closed his eyes. The cool night air brushed over his face, and he caught the musty scent of the desert until he caught something else with it—the faint tinge of perfume. He frowned and lowered his head, staring at the fire at it licked lazily at the air around it.

“I thought you were going to sleep?” he spoke to the empty air.

“I can’t sleep,” came the grumbling reply. Twilight returned and sat down beside him. “A part of me just… kind of doesn’t want to. Like those visions I had earlier today will just come to life in my dreams, and then I wouldn’t be able to get out. Princess Luna taught me a bit about dreams once, how they’re like this… sea of wandering minds, each able to be visited. I’m not sure if what we’ve gone through has affected any of that.”

“You mean to ask if they can control your dreams.”

“Y-Yeah…” Twilight frowned and looked up at him. “What do you think?”

“I think…” Kandro sighed, his response a mere shrug. “I think there’s a lot still to be learned about it, really. The ghosts, they may be real, they may be not. Those pictures you drew were starkly clear, details finer than any muddled dream can provide. And that… that skull you drew…”

“Have you seen it before?”

“I have. In a dream.”

Twilight’s eyes widened. “You did? Why didn’t you tell us?” She bit her lip, pursed it, then scrunched in irritated thought. “So it’s not just me. You’ve had them, too, right?”

“I had them, yes,” Kandro said, looking at her with amused eyes. “It just so happened that in most of those cases, I was either knocked unconscious or at a point of near-death. Perhaps the mortality of the incident sparks a response from the magic, and allows me to view these dreams.”

“And what happens in your dreams? Do voices talk to you, show you things and all that?”

“Almost. You say that the ghosts relayed to you scenes, pictures, general vague ideas of happenings that even you do not fully understand.” Kandro folded his arms, pausing as he stared idly into the fire. Twilight watched him, eventually following his gaze and looking upon the flames herself. “For me, it’s not voices, but rather, a voice,” he finally said. “It speaks to me, and is clearly aware of who I am, who my traveling companions are, and what we seek to do.”

“Is it dangerous? Can we trust it?” Twilight asked. Branches crackled as Twilight grasped a handful of spindly sticks and tossed them into the fire. “I feel like Artim now, asking all of these questions. Still, they’re worth answering.”

“The voice is not out to hurt us, of that I can ascertain,” Kandro said. “As for trust… well, I did pose that question to him. He simply said that he could do nothing to prove his allegiance, but that he has worked with the Brotherhood of the past, and knows of the bigger picture better than any of us.”

“Him? It’s a male?”

“The voice was male to me. It’s merely an extrapolation.” Kandro picked up the helmet next to him and picked at a few errant scratches on the otherwise flawless plate. The steel was resilient, due to being treated by arcanists as befitting a warrior of his rank, yet the beating his armor had taken would have shattered any imperial armor a hundred times over. The empyrean was to thank for its current condition.

Twilight tapped her chin. “Hmm… you don’t think it might be the First, do you?”

“The First is dead. Accounts of his burial are well-documented, and his procession was nothing short of spectacular.” Kandro paused, eyes darting every which way as he humored the idea. “At least… that’s what we think. He was given the proper rites, sent off on his way. It makes me wonder now if he had any plans for the future…”

“Well, he had the Founders of Lherren to help him with that, didn’t he? We have the runes, you have the Blade,” Twilight said, clapping her hooves together with a quiet clack. “He had that much in mind. And then there’s still the Brotherhood, too, though we don’t know exactly how much of a hand he or the Founders had a hoof—er, hand in that.”

“And then there’s the wall,” Kandro said, trailing off into silence until he felt the cold press of metal on his cheeks turn his head to stare into questioning violet eyes.

“You’re zoning out, Prince Kandro.” As she finished, her eyes widened and she delved into a thoughtful expression, eyes turning up to the sky. “Or is it Emperor now? Does it matter?”

“Honestly, it doesn’t,” Kandro said, gently pulling her hooves away from his face. “Sorry for losing my focus there, it was just…”

“That was what happened to me earlier. Were the things you had more of a vision than a dream?” she asked. “Dreams aren’t usually something you can remember so clearly when you wake up, but I remembered every single vivid detail. The skies, the demons, the people, the land—it was even more empty than it is now, did you know that? There’s sands here all around us, and that gives it its own life, but back then… well, if there’s a better way to describe a dead land, I can’t think of a better example than what I saw.”

“No, I didn’t… and I’m wondering just how much the voice I spoke to knows. He alerted me to the existence of this ‘wall’ that we’ve been sent to find. First, it was from the voice, and now, from Ghiraza.” He scratched his chin, feeling the burn on his eyes as he closed them—sleep called, yet an ominous chill hung deep in his chest despite the fire. “I hope our arrival at Lherren will answer more questions than it presents.”

“Will we be safe there?” Twilight asked. Kandro gave her a dry look, and she realized the nature of her question with the knoweldge she knew. “I mean, well… General Tiraen and the Crown Legion will be there, right?”

“And the arcanists, as well,” Kandro said. “Some of the finest in the Empire, with a proficiency equal to or greater than Artim. Besides that, the Grand Scholar wanted something from Renascence—the relic Ghiraza carried with him, and it was stored deep in the archives. I want to know what he wanted with it, and how he learned of it.”

“It’s very possible that Ghiraza might have just told him about its existence to help the war effort,” Twilight said. Still, even she found curiosity getting the best of her. “Though I guess I want to know, too. A lot of lives perished trying to get that, and that’s not even considering the loss of all the ancient works when the dragon showed up.”

“The dragon!” Kandro hissed, balling his hands into tight fists as they sat on his knees. “I had completely forgotten about it. It might have already set off for Lherren. I shudder to think what destruction it could cause on a city without walls as great as Renascence’s to defend itself with.”

“But… the arcanists can… well, it sucks away our magic. I don’t think they’ll be able to deal with that. They’ll have other plans, right?”

“I would hope so. Dragonslaying is not a common profession, even among our most capable fighters, Twilight. That’s also not delving into the other two complications about it: that it’s an ancient dragon as half as large as the Capitol Spire is now, and that it’s a corrupted dragon that may be tapping into the Trickster’s own energies to fuel its magic.”

“Well, if it’s that large, and if it’s already set off for Lherren, I’d say that it’d be something pretty hard to miss, wouldn’t it?” she said, her only consolation a sheepish smile.

“True,” he said, shrugging. “The creature’s form would be visible for miles around, even through the desert’s mirages, not to mention that it would be hard-pressed to avoid a gathering of demons around it. The Trickster might even use the dragon as a focal point of an attack, to bolster an attacking force’s power and intimidate the defenders.”

“See, you’re thinking this through,” Twilight said. “I’m sure General Tiraen and the arcanists are discussing no small number of ways to deal with any problem as they arise. Let’s just worry about getting through the Plains first, and then we’ll worry about having to deal with that dragon again, okay?”

Kandro sighed. “Okay.”

“Good. Now, you look absolutely exhausted, and I’m pretty sure I am, too. So I’m heading off to sleep now, and so should you.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Pinkie Promise me, okay? You are not going to stay up worrying about all of this. You aren’t any different from any of us, Emperor Kandro, and like what Tehin said about Artim’s obsession with research dragging him to the grave, your pitfall is your sense of duty and leadership. You might be Emperor, but you have to learn to rely on others, not just yourself,” she said, her smile growing ever so slightly as she recited what she had been told earlier that evening.

“Fine,” he relented, throwing himself back onto the ground and resting the back of his head on the palms of his hands. “I Pinkie Promise.”

“That’s not how it works, silly,” she said. “You have to do it the way Pinkie made it.”

“And that is…?”

Twilight inhaled, waving her hoof and beckoning him to sit up straight again. “Okay, repeat after me,” she said, “and do exactly as I do. Cross my heart—” She waited, smiling as Kandro fumblingly followed her gesture. “—hope to fly—” Kandro mirrored her movement as he swung his arm out. “—stick a cupcake in my eye.” She watched as Kandro completed the promise, tapping a finger on a closed right eye and nodded with approval. “Great! That’s a Pinkie Promise, so be sure not to break it, okay?”

“I won’t, but… what makes it any different from a regular promise?”

“Oh, nothing…” Twilight said, standing up and turning to leave. “But you know how Pinkie’s usually peppy all the time?”

“Yes…”

“You don’t want to know what happens when she isn’t. And trust me, if you break a Pinkie Promise… she’ll know. And with that said, I think our conversation has been productive, at least for me. Sleep well, Emperor Kandro.” She bowed her head and left, her form fading into the muted darkness as the pale light illuminated her form.

Kandro did not join the others, instead finding himself nodding off as he laid in front of the fire. He found no solace in its flames as the visions swam in his mind, and the last thing he saw before slumber took him was a horned skull, burning, with a wicked grin staring back at him through the light, and the echoes of a title that felt out of place to a man who still felt he was a boy playing soldier.

A scream awakened Twilight from her slumber, and she opened her eyes to find that no longer was she surrounded by the tranquil oasis and its verdant life, but a desolate landscape blanketed by dry sands, colored blood red as far as the eyes could see. The skies were as dark as the ones that hung above Renascence, but worse: where the skies then were only darkened ash from the destruction, here the winged demons gathered en masse. Her heart pounded in her ears, and she saw humans around her, all running, screaming, fighting.

She blinked, and recollections of last night’s discussion bombarded her mind’s eye. And then followed the realization that what she was seeing was not an illusion, soon reinforced as someone bumped into and caused her to flinch.

“Wh-what?!” She jumped up, looking around to see a woman carrying a baby sprinting past her as a towering beast, two stories tall and with horns and the elongated face, like an undeveloped ancestor of the minotaur, thundered across the ground for the hapless mother. Twilight’s mouth hung agape as she observed the pursuit until the shock wore off and her mind whirred into gear.

The ends of her robes billowed as they caught the whirlwind coursing through the plains. Her padded hooves dug into the soft earth as she followed along, weaving her way around other battles as the world seemingly ignored her. Sand blew into her eyes, and she squinted as she pulled her mask over her mouth, taking in a deep breath of air free of sand grain. Ahead, she saw the beast sweeping its arm as it continued, sending a pair of men reeling from the blow, and skid to a stop as the woman tripped.

Her horn glowed and a snap of a bolt cracked through the air as the projectile impacted into the rough hide of the beast’s back. The beast’s head turned to look at her, and snarled at the sight of a unicorn on the battlefield; the mother, in the distraction, looked to her with thankful eyes and scrambled away. Twilight smiled, panting as she stooped low, her horn glowing brighter as she prepared to unleash a volley, when she felt claws grip both of her rear hooves.

A yelp of pain was the only sound she made as she fell flat on her belly, and a sharp pain bit into her left leg as she quickly whirled around onto her back to see what had ambushed her. A canine demon had bitten into her leg, thankfully not a serious injury due to the dog’s size—a diminutive runt about as big as Applejack’s pet Winona was. Blood ran out of the corner of its mouth as it withdrew from tearing into her flesh to bare its teeth at her. Twilight rewarded it with a point-blank blast to the face.

She righted herself onto her four hooves again to find that the minotaur beast had already closed the distance between them and was already dropping a hammer of a fist to crush her. Hairs stood on end, her body tensed, and her teeth gritted as her horn sparked, and she felt her form rush through a blurry field as the fist collided… on empty space, where it threw up a plume of dust.

Calling upon the reserves of energy she invoked before she was knocked to the ground, Twilight charged her horn and unleashed thaumaturgic fury onto the beast’s back again… earning only the same reaction as it had the first time. The ponderous beast had been curiously peering underneath its fist in hopes of finding Twilight’s pulverized corpse underneath, only to be reminded who it was dealing with when the missiles hit its back, and it let out a minor grunt as it snorted and turned around.

Twilight narrowed her eyes and slowly began to step backwards. Her horn charged on and off as she threw more projectiles at it, each more powerful than the last but still with no greater effect than the first. Her blows became erratic and more frantic as the beast gained speed, on top of gaining the attention of the lesser demons around them.

A faint hiss sounded off behind her as flesh mended and the skin sealed itself, and Twilight took a split second to give her leg a quick shake to find the movement without pain. Her lips thinned into a crease, and she zipped around the beast’s charge, moving around to the side as the demons were caught unaware and struggled to reposition.

The smaller ones—the dogs and the imps—were the first to be dealt with, finished off with zaps from her horn. She grimaced as the headless bodies each fell to the ground as their approaches tapered off; clean kills as they were, the empyrean magic was far more effective against them than she had thought. No longer did she have the shield of the Pillars and Prince—Emperor now, she reminded herself—Kandro to hide behind. Now every action in this fight was hers.

Dream or no dream, the demons could harm her, and she wasn’t going to test whether or not dying in this realm would wake her up… or kill her. The beast stood at a distance, circling around her as it sized her up, clearly unfamiliar with the quarry on guard before itself. Twilight did the same, and they mirrored each other’s movements. Once they had made a full cycle, Twilight made the first move.

Her horn glowed again, and she pulled the magic, willed it into a point, gathering energy at the tip of her horn as the air rippled violently around her. The golden-white magic coalesced into an orb that grew steadily brighter, and she strained underneath the power with hooves digging into the sand.

If the hide was too thick to cause any damage, then she would simply have to pierce through it.

The point was a swirling sphere of energy, a pool of power so great that it left lingering tails in the air as it spun. Twilight inhaled, and held her breath; the beast charged, and had cleared half the distance between in the moment it took for her breathe. And then she exhaled, and her mind focused on manipulating the magic into a beam.

A roar sounded across the plains as Twilight unleashed a beam as half as large as the beast’s width, and half as tall. It struck dead in the chest, cutting its charge short as it stumbled, at first, giving a short yelp of pain, followed by unbridled howling as the empyrean magic tore into its flesh and then through it. Flailing, it futilely attempted to dive aside, crawling on the ground as her beam remained on target.

She snapped the beam off and watched as the beast’s mouth hang open, head on the ground and with drool pooling under its cheek, blood under its gaping wound. She calmed her breathing and surveyed the situation around her, and found them normal, or as normal as can be as the madness continued around her without recognition of her presence.

Then it was on to the next step: she needed to learn where she was, find her friends and the humans. If she was here, then it was in her hopes that they were, too, yet there was much ground to cover, and little direction she had to go on. Her mind split its attention two-fold, one to maintain awareness of her surroundings, and the other to hatch a variety of plans for her next course of action.

Neither served her well. She galloped around the field one moment, looking for familiar faces, then the next she was tasting the sand and wheeled around with magic at the ready. Rainbow Dash’s face glowed in the light with a relieved smile. “Twilight! Oh, thank Celestia, it’s really you!”

“Rainbow?” The pegasus stepped off and allowed Twilight to stand back up before continuing. “So you’re here, too?”

“Of course I am. I think everypony else is, too. Is this the place that they were talking about? The Plains that we were supposed to be going through?” she said, nearly shouting over the din of combat.

“There’s no doubt that this is the place,” Twilight said, looking over Rainbow’s shoulder as she did hers, both scanning for enemies. “But this is in the vision. This is how everything went down during the Trickster Conflict. I guess the ghosts were serious when they said that they were waiting for us.”

“Isn’t this just a dream, though?” Dash asked. “They can’t hurt us, can they?”

“They can.” Twilight gave a lingering glance to her hind legs. “One of the canine demons managed to get a bite in on me. It’s healed now, though, thanks to the empyrean magic. We should stick together and see if we can find the others in this mess.”

“Yeah, I think I saw Applejack running that-a-way earlier,” Rainbow said, pointing a hoof out past Twilight’s shoulder. “There’s no way I can miss her tail color and armor in all of this, but I think she was following someone else.”

“Did you catch who she was following?”

Rainbow shrugged. “Some guy in golden armor, kind of like that champion from that one place… Tandreat, yeah. The guy was like him, except bigger and more glowy. He was leading her somewhere.”

“It might be one of the soldiers,” Twilight muttered. They matched their pace as they began to follow Rainbow’s lead, sprinting for endless minutes until they caught sight of Applejack’s familiar shape and color. The earth pony had stopped, joining with the unknown warrior in a battle with demon footsoldiers, but was kept away as the man held his hand up for her to stay back..

“I can handle ‘em!” Applejack said, stamping her hoof down as she huffed at her partner’s request. “You don’t have to do this by yourself!”

The man declined to respond, merely pointing a finger at Twilight and Rainbow’s direction as they joined. “Applejack! I knew it was you!” Rainbow said, skidding to a halt as she put a hoof on Applejack’s shoulder. “You alright? You didn’t get hurt, did you?”

“I’m fine, Dash,” Applejack said, gesturing to her own armor. “It’s gonna take more than a few bites and cuts to hurt me through this. How’re you two holdin’ up?”

“Just fine,” Twilight said. “Had a bit of a tumble earlier, but everything’s good now. Have you seen the others?”

Applejack shook her head. “Not since I got here. Ran into this here feller, darn near saved me from gettin’ my head chomped off. He’s been leadin’ me ‘round this whole hootenanny since then, though I think he’s trying to lead me to Pinkie. We saw her cartwheelin’ ‘round the place like nopony’s business.”

“And what about that guy, then?” Rainbow asked, nodding her head towards the warrior, who was now standing off with a pair of demonic footsoldiers. True to Rainbow’s observation, the man stood decked out in gleaming golden armor from head to toe, yet his plates were gargantuan for a warrior of his size, painting him as more of a wall than a soldier. He held two swords in each of his hands, each a shining sliver of light contrasted against the hideous dried blood red on the blades of the demons he fought against. His red tabard fit snugly over the plate, tattered at the ends from battle.

“I don’t know. I just woke up and found myself fightin’ off a snarlin’ beast from tryin’ to make me into its lunch, then this guy just comes along and gives it a solid boot to the face and helped me up.” Applejack flinched as a bolt snapped from Twilight’s horn and struck the body of an imp that had strayed too close. “I’m not even gonna bother tryin’ to ask where we are now, other than the fact that Twilight’s right, isn’t she?”

“Yeah. Isn’t this all supposed to be in the past?” Rainbow asked. “Why are we here? Those ghosts must have a lot of power if they can just drag us back in time.”

“That’s because this isn’t the past, Rainbow,” Twilight said, shaking her head. She watched as the warrior made the first move, engaging the closest demon. He began with a straight thrust from his blade, easily parried, but provided a transition into a kick to the demon’s right side, where it couldn’t respond as its blade arm was still recovering from the glancing blow. It faltered, and the warrior segued into a second stab from his left blade and straight into the side of the demon’s torso. Ichor spilled out, lapped up greedily by the earth.

The demon fell to its knees with a howl of pain, and the warrior lopped its head off with a smooth motion from his other blade. With a flick of his wrists, he cleared the bile from his blades, reclining into a low stance as he eyed the second demon in anticipation, almost daring the creature to make a move.

“Out of the way!” came a cheery voice. From behind the demon soldier came Pinkie, doing a backflip in a grand flourish as she dropped a pair of canisters on the ground. The demon responded, bracing for the attack, but found only an explosion of confetti that bounced harmlessly off of its body. The attack that came afterwards did not.

Twilight tilted her head and peered curiously at the warrior as he finished his second target, marching towards it to confirm his kill with tentative steps until his helmet, a golden piece protected with an expressionless mask, turned to her. “It’s just like his new mask…” she whispered to herself, eyes widening. Her head arched back as he strode towards her, and her mouth dropped as his full size became apparent.

“Two swords? Wearin’ a mask? Real good at fightin’ demons?” Applejack raised a brow. “Yhimit?”

The man nodded. Twilight shook her head. “But… are you the Yhimit we know now? Or the Yhimit from back then?” She gulped as he continued staring at her in silence, foregoing the conversation to look at her friends. “We need to find the others. Rarity should be fine on her own for a while, but it’s Fluttershy that I’m worried about. If we’re lucky, they’ll be with each other.”

“I think I saw ‘Shy flying about back, uh…” She closed one eye and stuck her tongue out, twirling in place with hoof outstretched until she slowed to a stop. “That way! I didn’t see any of the humans, though—well, not all of these humans, they’re everywhere—but, you know, our friends.”

“Is it just us here, Yhimit?” Twilight asked. Yhimit shook his head, then pointed towards the horizon, away from the storm that gathered at their heels. Through the dust, Twilight could make out a strange sight in the distance, wavy growths on the horizon that she recognized as trees. “Oh, right, I forgot the Empire back then was more verdant. Will we find them there?”

“Who cares? It’s better than staying here, right?” Rainbow said. “This is, like, ground zero for when everything just gets thrown to the wind. We definitely don’t want to be here for that, and I’m sure everyone else has the same idea. Let’s head for the trees.”

“And what if the others are still stuck in here?” Twilight frowned at her. “We can’t just leave them here. We might have an idea to regroup, but the others might still be lost and confused.”

“Then I’ll go find them! I can fly, you know.”

“Will you be okay on your own?” Applejack asked.

“I’ve had more than a few pointers on how to fight off these demons. I’m not looking to beat them, I’m just looking for our friends. I’ll be on the move all the time, so they won’t be able to catch up with me, anyway.” She flexed her wings and hopped into the air, hovering inches off the ground. “Trust me, I’ll find them. And for you, big guy—” She looked at Yhimit. “—keep ‘em safe.”

With conviction, he slammed a fist into his chest. The sound rang true through the cacophony and earned a smile from Rainbow. She nodded at him and took off, a blurry rainbow line that streaked through the sky. He turned around again to find a legion waiting for him—not of men, but of more demons. From the abyss behind the fleeing refugees, armies poured forth, and only then did they realize the futility of their small victories.

For every demon they felled, twenty more took its place. Twilight and Applejack joined next to Yhimit, legs spaced wide and torsos forward to minimize their silhouettes; Applejack prepared to charge, and Twilight was with horn aglow. Pinkie took up their rear flank with her cannon, and all three expected Yhimit to charge… yet he did not.

“Yhimit?” Applejac muttered from behind gritted teeth. “Now’s a good time to… you know, stop all those demons coming our way?”

Yhimit sheathed his swords, pushing the two ponies at his side back. He pointed behind them, towards the treelines, and then nudged them away. At first, they looked on confusedly at him, until Twilight realized the truth and attempted to stop his push. “Wait, you don’t mean to take on all of them at once, right?”

He nodded. Holding his hand up, crackles of golden lightning—the same that Ghiraza had channeled during their escape from Renascence—gathered at his fingertips. But whereas the old man required the use of a focus to cast his spell, Yhimit required none. His magic was cast unabated, one crack after another as their eyes were blinded by the fusillade of bolts. The first formation was obliterated in the span of mere seconds, and the ponies watched in awe as the power that the humans’ ancestors were said to wield was displayed before them.

“Come on, Twilight, we gotta go!” Applejack said, tugging at her cloak. “He’s got this from here on out. We have to find the others and get to the bottom of this ruckus!”

“No problems with me!” Pinkie said. She kicked the wheels of her cannon’s cart and it jumped into action as it began to roll alongside her as she led the retreat. “I’ll take the lead, so don’t fall behind!”

Twilight took a few steps away before looking over her shoulder at the then-Yhimit. His back was to her, standing stoically against the endless tide, bursting with empyrean energies as he glowed as bright as the sun itself. His bolts had all but disappeared, merging together so that it seemed that two solid beams originated from his hands, beams which he snapped back and forth as he dwindled the numbers of the advancing formation.

Then, before she could react, his right hand stopped casting. With an imperceptible flick of the wrist, he knocked her away with a blast of telekinetic energy, less of a blast and more of a shift, like she had been picked up and gently tossed away. The message was clear to her, and Twilight caught up to Applejack and Pinkie as an earsplitting noise crashed through her skull, like a hoof across a chalkboard.

She heard the flapping of wings and felt her heart soar, looking up in anticipation of Rainbow Dash and good news, but what she saw made her blood run cold. A spear’s tip had made it barely halfway through her hastily-casted shield, the resulting force still enough to knock her off balance. She tripped, and her cheek grinded into the ground.

“Twilight!” Applejack said. A pair of armored figures, their coat and hides covered by ominous black armor and with feathers of jet-black on their wings, landed in front of her, spears crossed. “Griffons…” she muttered.

“Duck!” Pinkie shouted, and Applejack fell flat to the ground as her form gave way to the barrel of Pinkie’s cannon. A burst of confetti and streamers shot forth behind a pink paper-mache cannonball, and the griffons stared lamely at it until the ball landed between them and exploded with a stream of fireworks, each as large as Pinkie herself. The griffons were sent flying away as a pair found their marks in their chests. “And don’t come back!”

“Yeah, you show ‘em, Pinkie!” Applejack said, sneering at the griffons as twin puffs of dust in the distance marked their landings. Her cheer was cut short, however, and Twiilght noticed that her smile had disappeared as quickly as it had come. “Uh… T-Twilight… you might wanna take a look at this…”

“That’s…” was all Pinkie could manage until her jaw gradually dropped. Curious, Twilight looked to the sky that they remained affixed on, and then she saw it.

The black skies were swirling with energy, but through the battle, had hung in the distance, itself benign to the world. Now, tendrils began to slink and snap at the air as a presence made itself known, and a deep chill ran over their bodies. Twilight watched as her friends bristled at the sensation, herself joining as her lips thinned into a crease.

Fire swallowed the darkness—so Twilight told herself, as no fire could burn such a deep red. Two points slowly made their way out of the space, expanding with the clouds as the portal expanded. Through the firestorm, she made out features: hard lines, bone ebony in color, and then came the finality of what she truly held before her.

“Just like the vision…” she whispered.

The eyes exploded to life, and the maw opened to reveal rows of serrated teeth, a skull that bore a darkly empty smile. Fire left its eyes last, leaving not the burning intensity that she had expected, but blips of unliving indifference staring down upon the realm of mortals. Demons upon the field dwarfed the din of battle with their own cacophony of monstrous roars as the unmaker of all life took the field.

“Celestia help us…” Applejack said.

Twilight hooked itself onto the information: at this point in time, Celestia was, just not right here, and not right at this moment. She stared down the plains, watching as a lone Yhimit stood out as a small column of light against the blackness. The attention of all against them now fell upon him.

The Trickster had arrived.

Author's Note

Things are ramping up. A blast from the past, a facet of a man alive then and now, and the true power of the Trickster at its most powerful. Battles will be fought, secrets unearthed, and histories revealed. A long-dead ruler sits on his cryptic throne, viewing the world as darkness falls upon it, waiting for the penultimate moment where vengeance will at long last be delivered.

With the authorial prophecy out of the way, this chapter actually had a section where Kandro and Sehyia had a section discussing their past. After looking back at it when the chapter was already near completion, I decided it felt too out of place (boo, forced emotional backstories and shoehorned worldbuilding elements!) and cut all ~2,500 words of it, and replaced it with the conversation Kandro has with Twilight instead which, as you can see, is infinitely more plot-significant and less emotionally contrived than the previous iteration.

I: Whispering Sands

C h a p t e r 1 :

W h i s p e r i n g S a n d s

The realm of dreams portends a great many things to the experienced eye: caution on desires and awareness of fears among many other things, but sometimes, very rarely, you will see visions. Magic can affect ourselves as much as it affects the world around us, and can occasionally bring the sense of premonition to a person in the form of a dream. Whether or not those dreams should be acted upon is still a topic to be debated.

-Magic and the Realm of Dreams, Grand Scholar Ebon Sol Mahim, 1350 RY

Another gust of wind threw obsidian sands into the lone man’s face. He wandered through the landscape, a monochrome desert painted in the washes of black and white, a sea of desolation that he dragged his feet through in an attempt to reach a destination that not even he was aware of. He wondered if there was some reason he was here, alone in this forsaken realm, or whether if he had originally set upon himself a goal to accomplish.

The thought of his existence within the realm brought forth an eerie sight, as if on cue: a large city, sitting under the dead sun and sky, appeared before him, as if out of nowhere. Walls obscured a great deal of his sight, for the city was massive, a true example as to the skill of its creators to make a city that would withstand the test of time as a monument to the glory of its people.

It was a strange that he did not know such things until he saw it with his own eyes.

Disgruntled at the flash of information in his mind, the loner continued forward, passing under the gargantuan gates of the city, itself decorated with two ornate columns with a massive arch sitting on top. The feeling it brought forth to him was unlike any other, and he was unable to withstand its seemingly inviting nature to explore the city within.

He knew that this was the city of Renascence, the capital of the Renascent Empire.

Yet another thought planted into his mind through mere sight alone, a fact which disturbed him greatly.

For what manner of worlds could tamper with a being's mind through vision?

He continued forth, venturing through the many worn districts of the city, devoid of any other life save for himself. The presence of nothing but emptiness put him at an unnerving calm, as if he were being watched. He was quite sure that he was, if not for the appearance of signs of being tailed: little things, like the smallest detail out of place, a print in the ground, or the faint sound of something shuffling in the distance.

The martialsword he had was drawn, an ancient and mastercrafted weapon passed down from son to son by those that came before; it surprised him to see that it was the only source of color in an otherwise straightforward world. Holding his precious weapon at his side, he continued forth, determined to find out what lay within the heart of this great city... and what it held for the one man that journeyed through its confines.

A single growl brought him out of his stupor, and he turned to see the origin of the noise: a single quadruped beast, similar in form to a wolf... except it seemed be covered with a consuming shadow, giving it a fearsome and ghastly appearance. He could not see its teeth as it snarled at him and pawed at the ground, preparing to charge him. Anticipating the attack, he calmed his muscles, slowly bringing himself into a combat stance to fight the beast.

The martialsword was a terrifying weapon in the hands of a true master. Unlike the standard combat of ages old, the martialsword was, in function, simply an slightly elongated longsword, but given a clearer purpose: to destroy the enemy through precision, and thus had no secondary aid like a shield or parrying dagger. The master of the martialsword was a master of himself and the battlefield around him, able to rely on instinct and experience to anticipate and brutally counter the enemy's attack with strikes designed to exploit weaknesses and blind zones to devastating effect.

He could feel his perception of time slow as he saw the beast charge. It stepped forth, trailing its paws on the dead stone beneath, red eyes glowing with true malice, and jumped as it reached halfway between its original position and the loner. The martialsword moved to counter, and he felt his feet slide. A single reckless charge delivered the beast straight into the killing blow of his sword.

Within the span of less than a second, he had sidestepped the beast's line of attack, deftly rotating his body while drawing his blade up into the air. Too late did the beast realize that it had charged straight to its death, and its clumsy attempts at readjusting in midair was cut short as he brought the blade swiftly down upon its neck.

It was a short, quick, and violent yelp, as the beast's head landed several lengths away, its headless body flailing wildly for a moment before stilling itself. Suddenly, it glowed bright, disintegrating as it turned to dust and faded away in the desert winds.

"Hmm, not bad, mortal." The new presence startled the loner, as he looked around him for the source of the voice; around him in the building, above in the spires, and further into the skies. He found nothing.

"Who are you?" He looked back down the street, seeing nothing but shadows and sand. "Show yourself!" he demanded. He had been so sure that he was alone in this city for the longest time... only to have all of that shattered in mere moments. Then a voice showed up, laced with the tone as if this whole spectacle was a game, and he was nothing but a plaything. He could feel his blood boil with anger.

"How... insolent. Not entirely unexpected, of course... your kind were always so persistent in trying to rebel against my generous rule. And now, you have all earned my ire... do not expect me to have forgotten what you've all done." The loner began searching for the voice, traversing up steps and searching in alleyways. He found nothing but hideous laughs and dead ends waiting for me.

Eventually, silence replaced the voice as his companion, the jeers replaced by winds flowing through the sandstone streets around him. Each step brought him closer to his goal, his original purpose: the great palace of Renascence, situated on a mountain in the heart of the city, an impressive spire of architecture visible from every point in the city.

The palace steps stood large, ascending in a clockwise fashion around the mountain with several walled checkpoints built as a sturdy defense against any invader. Such architecture was necessitated following the end of the Trickster Era, when the Paragon of the Sun had first arrived in the Empire and managed to aid the humans in reclaiming what was left of their lands, as the Trickster's minions still thrived in the lands north of the Empire today. They had taken to calling themselves 'griffons', and adopted a creed of honor and military tradition soon after they settled.

Which, of course, only enraged mankind even further upon seeing its own systems adopted into use by the Trickster's followers, which they viewed as a mockery of their upbringing. Animosity only grew between the two factions throughout the centuries, and mankind sought to forge itself into the one thing the Trickster could not break: honorable, strong, and organized people, rising from the ashes to bring about, by their own hands, a rebirth of their lineage. Such was the origin of the name 'renascent'.

The capital of Renascence stood as a testament to their hard work and dedication, rumored to be larger than the largest city in the nation the Paragon of the Sun retired to following her liberation of humanity's lands. With her aid, they reconstructed settlement after destroyed settlement, painstakingly using every moment of free time they had to return to normalcy. With the aid of the Protector of the Night, they learned how to live again, learning to treat each other with honor and integrity, but also love and respect, the lessons of justice and law inherited from the Protector and the first ruler of the Trickster Era that had perished in the conflict serving as their guiding light towards a better future.

All of these lessons and more should have been habits exemplified by the guards that would have normally been standing in legion on these very steps, but with every step forward, it only gave him more reason to doubt his willingness to see the end of the path. He was no fool, and he wasn't disinclined to believe that he might have just been walking into a trap. He continued up the spiral staircase, martialsword gripped tightly in his hand as he passed by an open door looking into an empty barracks.

He held his breath as he reached the top; his helmet was stifling and his body felt as if it were on fire. Gallantly continuing forward, he put a single hand on the massive double doors that led into the palace's throne room, and gave a hard push. A rush of wind flew past his head as he ventured inside, meeting the darkness within head-on.

"Where are you, stalker?" he shouted. "Show yourself!"

"I will... but only since you asked so nicely... Light slowly began to fill the room as the torches throughout the room began to light one by one, the lines converging on the center of the circular throne room and ending right at the massive throne's pair of braziers. A single being sat on the throne, clapping derisively as he stood.

The loner stared at the man as he descended the steps of the throne. "You... who... are... you...?" he asked.

"Who else would I be?" He laughed again, the power behind his voice shaking the room and causing flights of dust to trickle down from the ceiling. "I'm you, of course. Look at how well we've done ruling this forsaken piece of dirt." His armor was pure black, a far cry from the loner's own white plating. "Come now, fool. Let us end this..." The impostor drew his own sword; not a martialsword, but a jagged and rusted blade, a tool made to be both intimidating and deadly in combat. Its effect, however, was lost on the loner standing before him.

"The Trickster," the loner hissed. "I know who you are. And I will stop you!"

"Hmm... I don't think so. You seem to forget, my 'prince'..." The loner gasped as he felt a sharp pain in his chest, and he felt his hand rise to slowly grasp the tip of the blade that protruded through his chest. Looking up, he saw that the impostor was no longer standing at the foot of the throne, but now standing behind just, just off his side... holding the blade that impaled him. "...this is my world, so you play by my rules. It won't matter in the end, anyway... you won't remember this little dream after you wake up. It's merely just... playtime... before I return to cause some real chaos and terror..."

The loner could feel his right hand begin to lose grip, and before long, he heard the sound of his sword clattering into the ground. He feel into a kneel as the impostor painfully ripped the blade from his body and walked in front of him. "I... will... stop you..." he uttered, feeling the last of his life leaving his body.

"Will you, now...? We'll see about that..." the impostor said, laughing madly.

The insane cackles were the last thing the prince remembered before his world went black.

Prince Kandro awoke with a fright, clutching his chest in an attempt to alleviate some phantom pain that should not have been there. His dream was... he did not remember his dream, but for him to have woken up this way could only mean ill omens in the future. Looking around on the table he fell asleep at, he noticed that everything he left there the night before was still intact: his martialsword, his study notes, and his half-eaten dinner from the night before.

"No need to put it to waste..." he said to himself, turning his previous dinner into today's breakfast only after he had taken the proper time to freshen himself up first. Sitting down and taking a bite of the first morsel of sustenance for the day, he looked over his notes: as usual, every possible lead that he investigated towards solving the Empire's magic crisis led him nowhere. Most of the land was dead without the lifeblood of magic flowing through it, and was the single effect of the Trickster Conflict that the arcanists had yet to solve.

The only actual nexus of magic still intact in the Empire was the capital of Renascence, which devoted most of the energies to sustaining the remaining fertile farmland in the countryside surrounding it. The lack of magic also presented a lack of true arcanists that could aid in solving the problem; Kandro was lucky to have been born into nobility, and was tutored in the use of magic from a very early age. In towns and cities without magic, they simply had to make do without it, and those with magical affinity became a dying breed in this day and age.

Following several prolonged conflicts with the griffons that sat as the neighbors of the Empire to the north, Kandro had taken it upon himself to divert the crown's resources in an attempt to expedite the search for a solution. All it seemed to do was bring him to failure after failure even faster, and even the best of solutions proposed had been based entirely on myths and superstitions revolving around ancient artifacts. The Empire would die within the next century if he could not find a solution to their predicament.

Magical transfer, artificial sources, archaic rituals... all of them and others presented more than just a single problem that severely detracted from their usefulness in saving the land. Some paths had even ended in disaster with loss of life and property, only pulling further funding from the efforts of every researcher, including those who would rather see only safe solutions considered.

He found himself only growing frustrated in his short attempt to further his research, and so found it more fitting to simply head outside for fresh air. Lanterns swayed in the hall as he sheathed his sword and gave a quick check in his mirror to see that he was at least remotely presentable; he was, after all, a prince, but soldiers were never really attentive towards looks... unless they were his father’s personal guard, of course, but they were a different story.

The blinding desert sands immediately outside the reaches of Fort Kahir were the first thing to greet his eyes as he exited his quarters. His transfer to Kahir was a specific one: the fortress was located right on the eastern fringe of the Empire, at the entrance to Kahir Pass, the only known safe route to the nation of Equestria. The eastern gates of Kahir had remained locked, though, since there had never been need to open them; the Empire’s citizens were not given to relying on others for help... amusing, considering that their vehemence in solving their own problems was what nearly wiped them out during the Trickster Conflict.

“My prince!” Kandro turned to see the western gates of Kahir closing, and a messenger sliding to a halt on his sandrunner mount. “Prince Kandro! Where are you?”

“I’m right here, messenger,” Kandro responded. “You seem to be in a rush. What urgent news do you bring with you on this fine day?”

“A message!” the messenger echoed, holding his charge in the air: a scroll, wrapped tightly with red wax and marked with the seal of Emperor Nazhrus himself... Kandro’s father. “A message from the Emperor for you, my liege!”

“He does well to send a royal messenger with the best sandrunner the crown can buy,” Kandro said, earning a laugh from the soldiers in the yard. “Tell me now, how is he?”

“He is ill, sire.” A deathly silence befell the whole courtyard. “He is ill,” the messenger repeated. “And he wishes to have you at his bedside... immediately.” Kandro quickly descended the steps from his second-floor abode, slowly taking the scroll from the messenger’s extended arm. Meeting his eyes, Kandro could tell that the messenger was serious: his father truly was ill... and yet he had been fine only half a year ago. What had happened?

“Creatures!” a soldier shouted from the walls. The messenger looked around wildly as soldiers grabbed their weapons and charged up to the walls, Kandro among them.

“Scout, report!”

“Seven chaos creatures, on the boundaries of the southwest oasis tree!” the soldier replied, handing over the telescope to Kandro as he entered the guard tower. “My liege, they are headed for the city of Talon’s Reach. Best estimates show around a half hour’s ride until they meet the walls.”

“Have the Reach guards been notified?”

“No, sire.”

“Then we will ride to meet them,” Kandro said, pushing the telescope into the scout’s chest. An outfitter quickly brought him his helmet from the armory, scurrying up to meet him as he descended back into the courtyard. “Ready sandrunners!”

“Who will go with you, my prince?” asked the garrison commander, who waited at the bottom of the steps.

“Give me the best ones you can muster under my command,” Kandro said, as his own sandrunner beast exited the stable of its own accord. Climbing atop the saddle, he patted the reptilian beast on the back of its head before looking behind him to see a line of riders ready to follow him out the gates. “Excellent. You do good work here, commander. Keep the base on high alert in case more of them show up.”

“Yes, my liege,” the commander said, bowing. “May your sword strike true.”

“And may the blood of our enemies flow on the sand. Now, soldiers, let us ride!” The gates cracked open as the line of riders charged out, their bearing on the road that led to Talon’s Reach unchanged as they picked up a trail of dust behind them.

Tiny blots on the horizon were the only clues that Kandro had as to the position of the chaos beasts. Despite their land’s ever-decreasing energy, the presence of the Trickster so long ago had not seemed to have diminished in the slightest, occasionally spawning beasts much like the ones they tracked now. It had been much terrifying back then when the Trickster was at his greatest, and he led entire armies of such fearsome creatures against the human armies of old. It did not amuse him to think that they might one day suffer through such battles again.

“Talon’s Reach, sire, up ahead!” called the soldier behind him. “They raise the red flag, sire! They see the beasts!”

“Then let us hope they can close the city’s gates in time!” Kandro called over his shoulder. “Ride fast! Swords drawn!” He unsheathed his own martialsword, letting his arm drop low for a prepared swing.

The heads of people could be seen scrambling into the city gates as they began closing in on the countryside. Kandro cursed; at the rate that they were going, several might die before they could even make it past the outer homes.

“Swords ready, my liege!”

“Prepare to engage!”

The riders shouted a war cry as their small group finally rode past the last of the rural homes, their lines quickly fanning out to avoid running into each other. Reach guards were easily visible from their charging views as several attempted to deflect the lumbering creatures’ blows with their own shields, with one faltering and falling to the ground in the process.

The fallen guard clutched his arm screaming, his shield splintered to pieces as the beast’s right fist grotesquely expanded into some monstrosity of a weighted weapon, and prepared to bring it down on him. He scrambled back unsuccessfully, too handicapped by his own injuries to move any quicker, and brought up his one free arm in a desperate attempt to block the blow.

Suddenly, a mass of steel flew forth from the gates, above the fleeing masses and slamming straight into the face of the beast with a plated boot. The new warrior brought down his weighted staff into the monster’s face, imploding it with impressive force and covering his golden armor in blood.

Kandro veered his squad left to engage the other creatures, leaving the warrior to his own devices, only to have his intended targets exterminated by the warrior as he again leapt into the skies, staff glowing with combat magic and accelerating his blow into another beast’s face.

“Come, beasts!” the warrior bellowed, slamming a gauntleted fist into his breastplate. “Let me send you to meet the god you so dearly worship!” The beasts, now numbering five, issued a roar in response, and though it couldn’t be seen, Kandro was sure the warrior was wearing a grin on his face.

As the distracted monsters focused their attention on the burly warrior triumphantly gloating from atop the corpse of one of their own, Kandro jumped to his feet on top of the saddle of his sandrunner, letting his own crimson garb flow under his golden armor as he readied his stance and cleared his mind. A beast stood directly in front of him, and he fully intended to deliver a killing blow in a single strike.

That, however, was thrown askew as the monster promptly turned its head towards him, parting its mouth in an ugly grimace full of blood-stained teeth. It roared again as its head convulsed and shifted into an armor plate of sorts, to deflect Kandro’s blow. That did not deter the prince, but merely put his plan down a different path with identical results: the beast still had to leave its eyes vulnerable in order to see.

His sandrunner gave a screech in agreement, sensing Kandro’s imminent flight as he simply dove off of the saddle, blade poised in the air as the monster charged forth... only for the creature’s form to disappear in a cloud of dust. Kandro lost his bearing and transitioned into a roll as he bounded over the creature’s body, the form of the warrior and his staff clear among the smoke.

“Apologies, my prince!” the warrior called out. “But you seem to have arrived at a bad time. You see, Talon’s Reach is under my protection, and as its guardian... I am tasked with protecting its citizens personally.”

“Well, to be honest...” Kandro said, gesturing at the body of the beast with his sword. “I hadn’t expected the great Quartermaster Tehin to appear so far east. It is not everyday that one sees a great Pillar of the Obsidian Spire venturing in the fringe territories.”

“The Obsidian Spire does not need its guardians when there is such strife going on in the east,” Tehin responded, lighting his staff a hue of purple with another flare of combat magic. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, my liege, I have a problem to solve.”

“Go, Tehin,” Kandro said, chuckling. “I will be waiting here when you are done.”

Tehin hopped off of the corpse, his heavy form slamming into the ground with a thud as he turned to see a group of riders fending off one of the beasts. Utilizing his magic, he moved forward in a blur, unbecoming of his size, and delivered a direct blow to the creature’s knees and knocking it down. A final drop of his staff on the face of the creature ended its life, as he turned around to shrug at Kandro. “Hehe, business as—left, sire!” he shouted, pointing.

Kandro looked left, and saw a creature stampeding for him, and adeptly rolled out of the way, letting his own combat magic kick into gear to enhance his movements to clear a greater distance. It was part of the reason why many of the more talented fighters in the Empire were magic-wielders: combat magic could turn the tide of any battle when used right, but was insanely hard to master, drawing upon the user’s own affinities to work. The better the affinity, training, meditation, and experience the user had, the better the magic would work. Only the greatest of combat magic users could be considered viable candidates for being a Pillar of the Obsidian Spire, one of the greatest military honors a soldier could receive.

Kandro was in no need of such titles: he was, after all, nobility, and learned from some of the best combat tutors in the Empire, but it was only when he led his subjects to war against the griffons did he truly learn how to master the blade. Mastery that became extremely useful against uncommon and dangerous enemies such as chaos beasts.

With steeled concentration, he bid his magic to flow into his blade and felt the air around himself suddenly grow hot as his martialsword charged with latent energies. The beast stood momentarily, his head arching around to look for the prince when its prey decided to strike back. A focused strike, combined with the energies in his blade, allowed Kandro to cut clean through the beast’s leg and forcing it on the ground as he quickly repeated the process on its arm on the same side.

A clamor above him followed by a single rushing sound signaled to Kandro that the guard had loaded and fired a ballista at one of the other beasts. A single resounding roar in response let him know the bolt had struck true, and most likely crippled its target. Kandro walked around to the beast’s head as it sluggishly flailed about, its size too large for it to support itself properly without the aid of its limbs. Kandro stood perpendicular to its neck, and prepared a decapitating strike. He held his breath as the sound of Tehin and the soldiers around him continued the battle, letting his own blade charge up with energy... and sighed as he brought down the blade, the indigo mist of combat magic trailing in the wake of his final swing.

Martialswords favored utility above all else. Quick and painless deaths were part of that.

“He’s down! Charge the brute!” he heard a soldier shout, turning to see the only beast still left standing being swarmed over by soldiers stabbing it in any way they could. One even flailed about the beast’s head as the man attempted to slit the throat, only to be unfashionably knocked off and left to wallow about in the sand. The soldiers eventually began moving away as the beast’s steps grew erratic before slamming into the ground, having bled out due to all the stabs it suffered.

“Amazing...” Tehin said. “Is this daily business for the east? I should really visit these lands more often... Reugas keeps telling me that complacency is going to be the death of us all. Judging by the laughable reaction from the Reach guard, I’d have to say that he’s right.”

“There’s obviously more to this...” Kandro said, walking up beside him as they surveyed the carnage. “What are you doing here, Quartermaster? Surely you must have other business than to be stuck guarding a city on the eastern fringes?”

“You are correct, prince,” Tehin said, nodding. “And don’t call me ‘Quartermaster’... I haven’t been called that since my time in the army years ago.” Carts began rolling out to ferry the dead monsters to locations where they could be disposed of, as a group of doctors approached to help wounded guards. “Empress Aleyia bid me to come out here... to escort you back. The messenger was merely there to lure you out.”

“So is my father truly ill, then?” Kandro’s sandrunner approached from his side and nudged him in the arm, sitting there looking out at the rest of the scene with them. “He knows that I do not enjoy being in the capital.”

“He is ill... and you know you can’t keep dodging your status, Kandro,” Tehin said. Being a Pillar granted a soldier many privileges, one of them being allowed to talk freely in the presence of royalty. “I’ve known you since you were a boy running around trying to play soldier with wooden swords. You can’t run from your duties forever.”

“You’re about the only one who still remembers that, Tehin. And duties...” Kandro muttered, scoffing. “I am going to become Emperor, and you call it ‘duties’... I don’t want to rule, Tehin.”

“Then who will do it then?” Tehin asked. “You’ve been groomed since the day you were born for this position. You’ve shown exemplary command of your soldiers during the war with the griffons, and judging from your relief efforts in the north, you know what the people want. The nobility respect you. The soldiers respect you. Your lowly subjects respect you. I will not push the issue any further, Kandro, but... you are prepared.”

“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not,” Kandro said, patting his sandrunner along the bridge of its nose. “But I’m in no rush to ascend to the throne. Being surrounded by the Council all days, running the affairs of the Empire... it’s not my idea of a good life.”

“Perhaps once you get married, that’ll change,” Tehin teased.

“Can we talk about something else?” Kandro said bluntly. “My father has called me back to the Empire. Fine. Let us depart immediately.”

“Willing to depart so soon, my liege?” Tehin said, patting Kandro on the back, a feeling akin to being tapped on the back with a hammer. “Very well. Let us gather our supplies before we venture out... and I need to tell the Reach watch captain to increase the guard, anyway.”

It took them several days to reach Renascence. They were met at the gates of the city by a whole unit of the Emperor’s personal guard, clad in ornate crimson and gold battle regalia, and escorted through the city and up the spiral staircase to the palace. The city was abuzz with rumors, but the known fact was that Emperor Nazhrus was ill... and Kandro was soon to take his place.

The Paragon of the Sun had only begun lowering her charge when Kandro and Tehin had arrived at the top of the palace steps, and Kandro removed his helmet to preserve his sight in the evening, taking a deep breath as the capital’s airs and dry winds bombarded his nose. Awaiting them was Captain Ghiraza, the leader of the Emperor’s personal guard, and his mother, Empress Aleyia.

“Captain,” Kandro said, giving a solid handshake to the aged captain as the grizzled man simply gave him a respectful nod. Ghiraza was a true veteran and honorable soldier, having served under Kandro’s father in a multitude of conflicts before finally settling with being commander of his personal guard. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

“It’s a pleasure, too, my liege,” Ghiraza responded in his gravelly voice. “But I’m afraid things are far more dire than we had originally thought.”

“Kandro!” Aleyia stepped forth, enclosing her son in a tight embrace before parting, her face clearly written with worry. Her attire was unkempt and her mood entirely devoid of her usual cheerful demeanor. “Kandro... it’s... it is very bad. Your father, he...” she trailed off.

“What happened to father?” Kandro asked, looking between his mother and Ghiraza. Tehin stood behind him, shifting uneasily in his armor as Aleyia merely broke into quiet sobs. Ghiraza merely sighed and looked at the ground.

“We know not what it is, sire,” said a man appearing from one of the sandstone columns behind Ghiraza. “But its origins are not of our own. It is not poison, but something... worse. I myself cannot seem to find any remedy to his ailment, but he has been calling your name for quite some time now. It must be important if he wants to reveal something only to you.” The man stepped forth, his scholar’s robes partially tattered along the legs and arms, bandages clearly present on his extremities.

“This is Keeper Artim, of the great scholar school of Lherren in the northwest, and a keeper of the Great Library of the Empire.”

“And a Pillar of the Obsidian Spire,” Kandro finished. “It is an honor to have an arcanist join us.”

“Please, my prince, do away with the pleasantries. Our Emperor is in dire straits, and no one, not even one as well-learned as myself, knows the answer to this impossible question.” He stepped forth, letting the light shine over his bandaged face, giving him the appearance of a robed mummy walking among the living. “Oh, don’t pay these bandages any mind. It’s an... unfortunate side effect of mixing elemental and combat magic. Incredibly effective, but it only took me many failures before I learned the secrets to it... oh, and how are you doing tonight, Tehin?”

Tehin shook his head, the tassels on his helm flipping around as he did so. “The east is full of chaos beasts. It shames me to think that I hadn’t thought to visit until sooner. You win this bet... this time.”

“And I’ll be waiting to collect after this whole business is over,” Artim said, giving a curt laugh before turning stone-faced again. “Come. The guards have been maintaining watch over your father for a while now.”

Ghirza offered his arm to Aleyia, and as a group, they all followed Artim through the halls as the scholar delved into all his possible theories and assumptions as to how Nazhrus could have fallen ill. His irritation at not being to solve it was clearly shone in his responses.

“...magic. It’s not magic, at least not the kind of magic that I’m used to, and I’ve been exposed to practically every single kind of magic there is. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen before, and it’s utterly... infuriating,” Artim concluded. “Ah, here are the last of our guests. Please, my prince, may I introduce you to the final three members of our little organization...”

They stood outside the door to Emperor Nazhrus’ chambers, where a trio of members and a pair of guards awaited their arrival. Upon turning the corner, the first of the three, a man wearing the famous ranger’s armor stepped forth, giving a little wave as he introduced himself.

“Name’s Reugas, my liege,” he said. “I am a ranger from Kradrin. You might know the township as the one that’s in charge for the upkeep and protection of the Obsidian Spire when it is not currently staffed by one of us.”

“I take it the Spire is fine?” Kandro asked. The absence of all five Pillars from the Obsidian Spire was of great worry, as usually the protection of the monument dedicated to the deeds of the Paragon of the Sun outweighed any domestic concern unless it was critically important.

“It is fine, sire,” the second member responded. She stepped forth and gave a short bow, her conforming armor blending in with the increasing darkness of the halls. “I am Sehyia, and I am a blade dancer. It is an honor to meet you. I give you my deepest condolences with your father, I...” She paused, nervously fiddling with her fingers. “...we all respect him, very much.”

“Your blade...” Kandro commented. “It seems familiar. Blade dancers are rare, aren’t they?”

“They are,” Sehyia confirmed, toying around with her ponytail as she continued. “But our form is nowhere near as refined as the art of the martialsword. Such mastery is beyond our capabilities, since it requires such intricate use of magic. We merely use our own magic to nimbly move across the battlefield.”

“Oh, don’t let her modesty fool you, prince,” Reugas said. “She’s perfectly capable of killing all of us here if she wanted to, and nobody would know until the cleaners came in the next morning. Those assassin types, you know?” His smile didn’t even falter as she stared daggers at him. “What? You know I’m right!”

“And who is the last of our guests?” Kandro asked. The reputation of all the others meant that Kandro had some semblance of who they were... but the last one yet to reveal himself had a clear and terrifying reputation on the frontlines for being the bane of a griffon’s existence, a walking hand of death on the battlefield.

“...the disciple, Yhimit,” he whispered. The silent figure merely stood with his arms crossed, giving a slight nod to confirm his presence to Kandro, his infamous dual swords slung across his back. “Does he speak?”

“No, he does not,” Artim said. “He’s undertaken an oath of silence. What it’s for, we don’t know, but I wager it might have something to do with griffons,” he said, accentuating the final word. “Now that we’re all properly introduced, we must head inside. Time is of the essence.”

The bedroom was filled with the smell of incense, an indicator to Kandro that the doctors had simply run out of possible treatments, instead simply falling back on ancient homeopathic remedies of old... which also didn’t seem to work. His father breathed softly, his chest rising up and down, no longer the well-built ruler that all of his subjects remembered him as.

“That’s odd...” Aleyia said. “This is the first time I’ve seen where he hasn’t been shouting or rambling in some form or another.”

“Then that means things have changed,” Ghiraza said, as they all stood in the doorway. A four-man group of guards stood in a half-circle around the walls of the bedroom, protecting their ruler. “Go ahead, sire. None of the others save for your mother and the doctors have been able to speak to him.”

Kandro swallowed nervously, placing his helmet on the railing immediately to his right before stepping forth, his footsteps on the smooth and blackened stone floors the only sound present as he stepped forth through the smoke. When he reached the bed, he simply took a seat, staring in disbelief at the man that lay in the bed before him.

“Father... what happened to you?” he whispered, removing his gauntlets and tenderly picking up his father’s hand. It was wrinkled and felt like rough leather, and his face weary and eyes bloodshot, a huge contrast to the large and jovial man he had once been. “I am here now, father... what is it that you wished to speak to me about?”

“Kandro...” he croaked, moving his other hand to place a single shred of paper into Kandro’s. “Stop... Trickster... elements... harmony...”

“The Trickster?” Kandro asked, looking down at the crumpled piece of paper and back to his father. “Elements? Harmony? I don’t know what you’re talking about, father. Please, clarify. If the Trickster is truly behind this, I... I had thought we had eliminated him long ago.”

“No...” Nazhrus said, slowly shaking his head. “Blackridge... Mountains...” Kandro nodded, thankful for the direction; the Blackridge Mountains were what comprised the entire eastern border of the Empire, filled with turbulent winds and deadly sandstorm, making Kahir Pass the only route possible to travel to Equestria. “Paragon... Sun... discord...”

“The Paragon of the Sun?” Kandro leaned forward, determined to learn as much as possible. “Is she involved? Did she do this to you? And who or what is this ‘discord’ of which you speak?”

“Paragon will... help...” Nazhrus coughed several times, and Aleyia responded by quickly bringing him a small bowl of water, which he drank from deeply. “She will help us...” Nazhrus continued. “I—agh!” He began to convulse as Aleyia settled him back into his bed.

“I’m afraid our time with him is running short, Kandro. He will need his rest soon,” Aleyia said. “My beloved, please...” she gently cooed, running her hand across Nazhrus’ cheek. “You must rest.”

“Soon, Aleyia... soon... Kandro,” he said, turning back to his son. “If all else fails... find... the... legacy...” His hand grew limp and fell to the bed, and Kandro stood, worried that his father had passed away... only to see his breathing return, a faint wheeze as Aleyia lighted another set of incense.

“Why do we use the incense?” Kandro asked. “Will it not do more harm than good?”

“It is the only way we can keep him conscious,” Aleyia stated. “The roots for this type of incense go all the way back to the Trickster Era, when they were used to keep bad spirits at bay. Up until we lit these all around the room, your father would be in a coma, unable to speak at all.”

Kandro nodded, then unwrapped the piece of paper in his hands, reading the small note within: talk to the Paragon about Discord. “What is this Discord?” Kandro asked, walking back to the Pillars and Ghiraza. “What do any of you know about this?”

“That depends, sire,” Artim said. “We did not eavesdrop, as this conversation is between you and your father. But if he has imparted a clue to help you, then it is your choice to decide whether or not you want to share it with us. As far as I know, ‘discord’ seems to be another name for chaos... unsurprising, as it now seems that the Trickster is behind this.”

“We are dealing with an incredible evil,” Reugas said. “But I feel that this may be the Empire’s greatest challenge yet since our ancestors went to war against the Trickster’s armies. He has returned, and he wishes to wipe us off the map.” He clenched his hand into a fist. “But like our ancestors, we’ll break his legs and bloody his nose. We won’t go without a fight.”

“Very well,” Kandro said. “Do any of you know anything about the words ‘elements’, ‘harmony’, and... ‘legacy’? His messages were cryptic, and that was all that I was able to receive from him.”

“Well, it’s quite clear what the first two mean,” Artim stated. “He means the personal arsenal of the Paragon of the Sun, the mighty weapons she wielded against the Trickster and his minions when she and her army came to liberate our lands... the Elements of Harmony. Surely your father means you to call the Paragon to our lands to help us, or at least for you to bring back the Elements themselves so that we may use them.”

“She has done enough for our people already,” Reugas said, snorting. “Let her rest. She saved our skins once, and the Trickster was and has always been our fight. And it’s been thousands of years! Who knows if the weapons are still around today?”

“You dare go against the Emperor’s words?” Tehin said. “If our dear ruler truly believes this to be our best course of action, then we will carry out his orders to the best of our ability. Or did you forget your oath already, Reugas?”

“I know, I know, Tehin...” Reugas said. “But, honestly... I suppose we must be deeper in hot water than we thought if the Emperor himself has to resort to calling upon outer aid. And who knows? Maybe the griffons are behind this, too. And if they are...”

“...then they will answer for their crimes,” Kandro said. “What else do you know of the last word, Artim? My father said that it should only be considered as a last resort.”

“The word ‘legacy’...” Artim said, rubbing his chin. “Well, in all the studies at Lherren, there is only one thing that could possibly mean: your father means us to use the Legacy of the First Emperor, should our attempts to gain or use the Elements of Harmony fail.”

“The Legacy of the First Emperor...?” Kandro shook his head. “No... those are just myths. Just like the Lost Expedition. We aren’t going to waste our time chasing a mythical tomb just for the slight chance that it might contain what we need to stop the Trickster. Besides, wasn’t it meant more for bringing magic back to our lands?”

“That would be the public reasoning, yes,” Artim answered, folding his arms. “But think of it like this: why else would your father personally fund these scholars—I have the ledgers back in Lherren to prove it—if he did not think there was something else to it? The Legacy must be some kind of weapon, an ancient artifact that the First used to destroy the evil after the Paragon weakened it, before he himself was killed. That weapon must have been buried in the tomb.”

“It seems a little far-fetched,” Sehyia agreed. “But he knows more, more than he lets on. It’s all we have. Let us prepare for our journey to Equestria as soon as possible.”

“Well...” Artim said, crossing his arms. “Has anyone here ever been to Equestria?” Looking around, he received no answers. “No? Well, then... this will be one incredible treat for you all. I’ve been there, you see, and I should warn you right now... it is a place unlike anything you have ever seen.”