Author's Note

Hello, hello, hello!

Well here it is folks, the end of an arc.

We have come a hell of a long way. I want to thank you for your kind words, as well as your constructive criticisms, the advice many have shared. It has all helped me greatly, and the next story in the series will reflect that I hope. Bit of awesome news though.

Orion has art! Unfortunately try as I might I can't get Fimfiction to upload it. So I will just add a link to my Twitter were it can be found. Orion Falls

With that I am going to be taking two or three week hiatus. Mostly to build the story line of the next chapter, and to lose myself in Monster Hunter Rise.

As always. I want to thank you for reading, and hope you all will stick around for the next book in the series.

Peace!

Epilogue: Uncertain Fates

He could see Port Orthos from the top of the hill line, the small seaside town that possessed only one pier for large freight ships, sat quietly, as many of its inhabitants knocked off early after the departure of the ‘Sea Spray’. Likely the only large ship the town would see in two or three months. Such was the fate of port towns that never truly served their intended purpose.

Fortunately the nation of Minos sent enough bits to keep it running for the ‘just in case’. Though many could count on one hand how many minotaurs came from the closed tight borders in a year. Only special orders would arrive by dragon fire, or by one of the Border Keepers. Not many deemed it worth their time to leave the safety of the vast walls that surrounded the kingdom in its totality.

Once the nation of Minos covered thousands of miles of territory, rivaling Equestria itself in sheer land space. But for reasons unknown the country shrank, not in population, but in size. Withdrawing in upon itself to the point it could affordably set up it’s walls. Locking everyone out. Especially ponies.

“Okay Dad, it’s your turn with the cart I’ll carry the damnable anvil.” Duula groaned, slipping the straps free of her shoulders as she slowly rotated the arms, blood flowing back into them. Despite their situation, he wanted to laugh at his daughter.

When they first left the ‘Spray’ he had offered to take the wagon. The solid crafttaurship could clearly be seen in the sturdy cart. More metal than wood, it rolled with a smoothness you could not find inside Equestria.

Duula had rejected the offer and claimed she was more than strong enough to haul the wagon and forge equipment they had swiftly snapped up in their speedy flight from Canterlot. Now six hours later, with the sun blazing overhead yet not at its peak, she had clearly had enough, groaning and whining after the second hour into the jaunt from the port to the Wintaven Gate.

He nodded and easily handed over the three hundred pound anvil, she just as easily shouldered it without any complaints and trudged up the well paved path before them, he slipped into the harness with practiced ease and after a little struggle to get started, followed close behind.

He wished he had something to work on, like the little trinkets he made for the crew, or making sure the tribute he had remade every single year was in presentable order. It distracted him from the thoughts he had managed to keep at bay for over a month since their departure of the land of ponies.

He had watched as Orion Falls, shackled to the floor of a caged wagon, was escorted through the city in a show of his capture. He heard the crimes he was accused of committing as they were proclaimed at every major intersection. It took nearly everything in him to not call out the lies for what they were.

Oh he knew what Orion had done, they had talked about it the evening he had forged his auspicious set of enchanted wear. Those very same items were in the wagon, in a large steel bound box with several locks that only he had the keys to.

He had found it silly when he had arrived in Canterlot nearly thirty-five years ago with his wife and a single anvil of his own in tow after going back to his family's home nation in search of his own bride, that he had to sign an agreement to not share the secrets of how he made steel outside the nation. It was the same agreement his father had signed, his grandfather too. He had hardly paid any attention to it then, just like his father and grandfather. Now, those very same laws that the colt had likely known about and disregarded them anyway, had caused his incarceration.

Well brief incarceration. A day or two outside Manehattan, and news had reached him and his daughter about his escape, and disappearance. Rumors were that he had died and was swept away by the rushing currents of the lake and river that sat below Canterlot.

But judging by the bounty on any word of him, he doubted very much if they believed for even a moment that he had died.

It did not matter. He had done the one thing he had been forced to promise A request made of him the day the first band had been forged.

“Hey Forager. I need you to do something for me.”

He had been put away with his hammers, and was in the middle of gleefully wiping the recently repaired gate down in an effort to buff years of grime out of it. He could not wait to reveal this to her Highness tomorrow.

Looking up from his work, he eyed the young colt, a smile dancing on his lips. “Aye what is it lad?” His smile held for only a moment as he took in the seriousness of Orion’s face. There was a hardness there he had not noticed before. As if there were years of worry built up behind those gray eyes of his.

“If….if something were to happen to me. If I was to disappear. Or something worse. I want you to gather up all your shit and leave. Take your daughter and go. Where is up to you, but you will need to leave as soon as you can, as fast as you can.”

He wanted to laugh. But that look froze him, and he turned over in his mind the possible reasons why he would even make that request. He began to realize the frightening implications and trouble he would face, after all, he agreed to keep his secret. By not telling the Princess who had fixed the gate, he was dancing on the cusp of treason himself. While only a working migrant of the nation, he was still beholden to their laws as much as a citizen was. More so.

“Aye lad, I will do so.”

And he had. The morning after he had returned from what had been hoped was a glorious day of accomplishment, turned into a harrowing trial of his own self control and fear, he set about making everything ready for a swift departure that he prayed would never happen in his or his daughter’s lifetime.

At the time, Duula had questioned why they had rebuilt much of their shop to be easily stored away by wagon, and he had only given her vague ideas about possibly setting up shop in a remote area between Canterlot and Manehattan so they could take on larger work and more apprentices. With the money he had brought home, it had given his half formed lie weight. But they had never left.

Not till that morning after he burst into their shop and began packing.

His daughter had not questioned then, nor had she done so when they were riding out the stormy seas in their all too small cabin, trying to keep what they ate the day before down. Not even now. She just followed suit with what he was doing and packed swiftly, they were gone before the sun had reached it’s noon day peak.

Now as they slowly trudged he decided that it was time to speak of the why, she deserved to know the truth if anyone did.

Stopping he applied the brake on the wagon, as they were on another hill going up.

“Duula, my dear, I think it's time I told you why we left as we had. Come let us rest, we only have an hour or so before we get to the Gate Town of Wintaven. We could use the rest anyway.” Unstrapping himself he sat on the large stone fencing that bordered the road. She set down the anvil gently next to the wagon and sat with her father.

He told her. Everything. She stayed quiet throughout it all, eyes only widening a few times. If he was a betting bull, he would say she knew most of what he told her. But the surprise was he suspected Orion was responsible for the Griffon kingdom’s sudden improvement, rather than knowing that he was an enchanter.

“That….I….I can see why he wanted us to leave. Father, he really looked out for us, didn’t he?” She tilted her head back staring at the clouds overhead as they passed by. It was a strange sight for her, the only time she had ever been to the lands of her people, had been to register her as a citizen. She had been just a wee calf then. Forager and his wife had tried to get back to Minos for her birth, but she had other ideas and was born a little too early on the deck of an old merchant frigate en route to Port Orthos.

Yet she was still welcomed by both the courts and their family. It had been a wonderful month-long celebration.

Now he was sure that to her, the clouds moved strangely. The nations outside of Equestria bent to the will of the world. Not the other way around.

He was relieved that she did not feel animosity toward Orion, of whom he now considered a true friend. That she fully understood the need to leave and what could have happened to both of them should Celestia, or the Church catch an inkling of their help and support.

The silence stretched on for so long, that they had picked up where they had left off, and had nearly been to the gates before she spoke up next.

“Do you think he actually managed to escape?” He almost laughed out loud.

“Aye, if I were a bettin’ bull, I’d say he is living in the lap of luxury. He was a bit pincher through and through. He likely had himself some bits squirreled away just in case.” They both chuckled. He had been a fierce haggler over the use of materials when he managed to get an order in.

The day wore on and by noon, they had arrived before the massive gates that separated Minos from the rest of the world.

“Name and papers?” A stern guard in the black and brown armor of Minos approached, a clipboard in one hand and a crystal in the other.

“Forager Stouthorn. My daughter, Duula Stouthorn.” He sealed his lips and handed bother of the rudimentary passports they had received when they left Minos. One thing any returning minotaur knew, was to answer the questions, and only the questions. The guards were fickle and would tie up travelers for days if they were annoyed even slightly.

“Purpose” The crystal was passed over the clipboard, their names being written in blocky letters.

“Returning home. We do not plan to ever leave again.”

That got a raised eyebrow from the guard, but he said nothing to that.

“Skill?”

“We are both Blacksmiths.”

A nod. “Family?”

“The Stouthorns” He said that with not a small measure of pride in his voice.

For the first time the guard cracked a smile. No true minotaur could speak of their family without being prideful. It was also another test. Every inflection. Every look was noted. All to judge what the intentions would be of the entraints.

“Wait here Master Stouthorn.” As always they would have to verify the information with matching records and then come out with a special device only found in Minos: a blood analyzer.

The special tool was fiercely guarded, and was created four hundred years ago to discourage another invasion from a still unknown race. It determined whether or not the blood was minotaur, pony, or other sapient creatures that call Equis home.

Said tool was now pressed up against his daughter’s left arm. A small sample stolen away. The light turned green, then it was his turn. Another green light.

“Master Stouthorn, welcome home to Minos.”

“Thank you.” He hesitated, then shook his head. “Upon our arrival home, may we have a Fiosrach come by. We have news and information that must reach the King’s ears and the council. It is very important.” He held the surprised minotaur guard’s gaze. Trying to push the urgency of the information by will alone.

He nodded. “If you need a Truth Seeker that badly, we have one stationed here that is in need of being rotated out. You three can travel together. Relay whatever information you have with her.”

Forager nodded. He had thought about it for a long time once they had gotten on the ‘Sea Spray’. His nation would need to know of the rogue enchanter outside of its borders.

There was a secret Minos held as tightly as a cow holds her newborn calf amongst the wolves. A secret that he had accidentally discovered and kept silent of, even to Orion. Now he wished he had not.

The minotaurs long lost the secret to how they crafted their greatest creations. But deep inside it’s borders, a tribe of unicorn ponies lived. Their ancestors had fled the fallout of war between Celestia and Nightmare Moon. The aftermath had disillusioned the enchanters of old to the horrors their creations wrought. And all but one fled.

The tribe that lived today still carried the abilities of their forefathers and mothers. They could enchant not to the degree their own could do once long ago. The ability had diminished some. And agents around the known world, under the employ of Minos, worked in hospitals, huts, anywhere there might be need of medical attention.

When a pony was born with the abilities to do so, they were kidnapped. A distasteful practice. But one necessary, if they did not, then other nations would send out their own, and kill them before their abilities fully awakened. Only the unicorns themselves could perform this mission. So the non-gifted took on the duties to identify enchanters.

It was all an attempt to keep the terrifying fleet that was Equestria’s from ever taking to the skies again.

The news of a missed pony would shake both the nation and the tribe to their core. He should have found some way to send a message, but he feared some pony would read what was written down. And then Orion would have been caught because of him.

“Yes, I would like to speak to her as soon as she is ready.” Maybe, just maybe he could be found and helped out of this mess.

Artful Hammer sipped from her goblet, the fire in the room warmed her hooves and legs as she lounged in the opulent chair that once belonged to the former Bishop of the Temple she currently resided in. The Temple, “Her Promise of Hope’ was small when compared to the massive building that was her sister Temple in Canterlot, ‘Our Lady’s Shining Light’.

But it too was built just as lavishly, with high, ornate ceilings of red and gold. All Temples followed the same color scheme as had been ordained since their founding in the distant past. The room Artful stayed in. once belonged to Bishop Blessed Light. She, along with many other high ranking Bishops, along with three Cardinals that resided across Equestria had been arrested on charges of treason. That had been three weeks ago, and new Bishops were on their way to replace her, as well as other temporary position holders in their hastily assigned appointments.

It was just as well. She was no religious leader, she hated the position she was in, and the whininess of the ‘flock’ that seemed to call on her everyday only drove that point home. She had built herself up for one thing, for the battles that would one day be needed to be waged when the Sun truly took her rightful place.

The recent purge had clearly shown that that time was not soon, and she lamented the idea of having to instruct the next generation rather than take part herself.

To her, the recent purge was a message. The Church had overstepped its bounds in what their Matriarch would allow, though this had been the first time in several centuries they had received any kind of message from Her. Their edicts back then had been clear, but over the centuries of operation, those ponies in charge had gotten things muddled, they had taken on greater roles then they were meant for. Greed for power in government had been their downfall.

Now they had paid the price for this overreach. All because of one colt.

She herself did not understand why he was such a big deal. Sure he had been disrespectful of Celestia’s position. But it was just the Princess. Not Her. Thus they could have left it alone. It was likely one of the Cardinals got their tail in a knot because they saw it as a weakening of their own power rather than the one they all were supposed to serve. Still, his file had been an interesting read, and she had looked forward to questioning him about his activities.

She however, did not believe the accepted story that was now suddenly being debunked by the government.

Celestia herself had called the trial a farce, and presented some rather substantial evidence that he was never who Backwater claimed he was. Most of that knowledge was likely from the formerly alive power hungry hopeful. Instead the suit had been thrown out as evidence on grounds that it literally could not fit a pony or griffon. The sleeves and appendages did not bend properly, and it was confirmed by not only the Princess, but the magic research tower as well.

A Tesla Coil, had been placed in charge to study the strange outfit, and the only thing she could remark on was how advanced the construction had been. There was also the fact that testing had shown the material only to be a decade or so old. But there was no residual magic sensed at all. Artful suspected that the Church’s original arguments were not strong enough, so they allowed Backwater to stretch the truth, even if the mare had actually believed what she was making claims of.

The Church was not the only one suffering the purge, and for the first time in many years a beheading had taken place just last week. It seemed one Gavel Hammer, the judge in Orion Falls’s trial, was guilty of his own crimes. She curled her upper lip in disgust, a colt diddler. Not only was he guilty of that, but it was discovered that he had been given a substantial amount of bits to run the trial how Backwater wished.

She chuckled, the noble class had not escaped punishment either, though sadly, no beheadings for them. Instead they lost influence and power, and support amongst their ranks for the Church also declined. Many renounced their loyalty and cut ties completely.

That was a setback. One that would hurt their influence greatly, it would take years before the ponies of Equestria would find faith in them once again. Just as well. In her opinion the Church had needed a realignment to begin with. To go back to their original purpose. To build, recruit, and wait.

A tremble shook her legs, which brought her back to the present. She checked the time and nodded.

“You can go, I need to make an appearance in the ‘Hall of the Sun’, and I’m sure your back needs a rest. However, think before you open your mouth next time Prioress. I do not like my orders to be challenged.” She had actually sat too close to the fire, not that it bothered her much, she had experienced hotter. But it was still early in the fall season, and not really cold enough for the raging fire that burned in the hearth.

Her ‘ottoman’ trembled again, this time in relief as she took her legs off her back. Naked, the blue furred mare struggled to stand, red welts decorated her body in fresh angry lines. This one had annoyed her too often since she had taken the reins. She had taken great pleasure as she beat her and then let the sweat gained by the heat of the fireplace drip into the lash marks.

The mare said nothing as she shuffled to her cassock, not even bothering to don it as she jerkily fled the room. A whimper as the door began to close brought a smile to Artful’s lips. That had been an easy session, but one that would break most. A frown replaced the smile.

“I wonder how long that colt would have held up. Considering how he was bound, most would have waited in silence. For him to not only refuse but escape from what should have been an impossible situation, I wonder if he would have been my muse.” She sighed with some regret, she would never know.

She began to dress herself in her own cassock, the red and gold colors glimmered in the afternoon light. She hated the garment, but she knew she had to present the right image for the expectations of the masses. The omophorion came next, and to her it was by far the most gaudy thing a pony could subject themselves to. While the garment was more reserved in patterns it depicted the dominance of the Sun over all life. The problem was it was all in gems, and was thicker than some plate steel she had worn.

“Time to greet my loving flock.”

Her right hand messaged her temple. The day was not going well again. No. It’s now been three weeks since her arrival in Griffonia, and every single day has been a roadblock of frustrations with no resolution.

King Bloodbeak and his wife, Queen Gabriela, were every bit as cordial, polite, and as cooperative as a mountain. Not that they did not answer her questions to the fullest. But that they had kept their emotions carefully locked away. The answers were thought out and useless.

If this trip had shown her anything, it was that her Aunt’s own agents were not as good at digging up information as the King’s own had been. They knew much about her, if not the full extent.

Every morning there were a hundred servants in the dining hall for breakfast, and again at other meal times. Anytime she sought them both out they were surrounded by others, and would not dismiss them. With that many about it was hard to discern their emotions, too much interference. She as of yet had not brought herself to ask if they servants could, or would, be dismissed.

So everyday was the same, carefully crafted questions to draw out what they knew about the colt, that by all rights, had restarted the nation's economic growth.

Her last trip to the once crippled nation had not been as pleasant, present situation excluded. Before she could feel the pain of this nation as she walked in disguise amongst its people. She had wanted to get a feel for the neighbor from the north after the events that costed the lives of two nobles some years back.

The difference between then and now was like night and day. Where weeping could be heard in the streets, only laughter and confident shouting could be heard. The once failing market places were bursting at the seams with griffons from all over the kingdom. Where the foundations of many buildings had begun to breakdown, now work crews packed the streets at an initiative from his Majesty to repair and even improve the infrastructure.

The most alarming however, was what she woke to every morning just north of the city, in plain sight of her balcony. A massive training camp had been constructed. And the small almost insignificant armed forces they once held, had now exploded to almost nine thousand in just over a year. With no end in sight as everyday she could see new recruits marching in formation.

The castle blacksmiths had been moved out to what was quickly becoming a small town. She could see the forge fires going hard at work forging armors and weapons for the new troops.

She found herself looking at the camp again, ignoring the quickly cooling lavender tea she had requested. They had taken what Orion had shown, and had managed to nearly turn the nation around in just shy of a year. The sheer drive and focus of Griffonia as a people frightened her.

She had expected some improvement, but not this. She feared what might come.

“I knocked, but you seem distracted Princess Cadance.” The calm almost singing voice of the Queen spoke behind and to her right, startling her out of her revelry. “Oh I’m sorry dear. I didn’t mean to frighten you.” She was holding a small collection of notes in one clawed hand, and Cadance wondered about them.

“I-its okay, I got lost in my own world there I suppose.” She smiled as graciously as she could.

“I can imagine, the trouble we bear for the good of our own people can oftentimes leave us at a loss of what to do. But I think your worries are more of that, ”she pointed to the camp, “and what it means for our two nations.”

She blushed, not for the first time since coming here. It always surprised her, she was so much older than any of the other rulers she had met, but often found herself to be their junior. It may have been due to their short ages, but they seemed to adapt and accept much quicker then either her or Celestia.

It was embarrassing that they could read her so easily.

“I suppose you could be correct. I’ll be honest with you, your Majesty. The last time your nation had a build up like this, you invaded.” She wanted to wince at her own bluntness but forced her face to be passive. “While that last invasion hadn’t done so much damage as waste bits and embarrassment for both nations, you can see why I am concerned I hope.”

“Oh I can imagine, may I sit?” She gave a nod. “Thank you, your Highness.” She settled in gracefully and placed the held scrolls in the middle of the table, gaining a surprised look from the Alicorn before her. “Last year around this time, it was decided we would follow a piece of advice, and we had our nation’s land borders amongst the noble families redrawn.”

Cadance’s eyes widened, a redrawing of territorial lands between royalty was huge. More so for griffons as they were notoriously stubborn in giving up what they believed was theirs.

“Yes, it wasn’t easy. But it had to be done. To why, we wanted the people to have more of a hand in how they were governed. The amount of rumors both I and my husband heard every year about abuses that were committed by the ruling class were too much to ignore any longer. So we decided that the nobles would lead their county’s guard forces, but the people would lead their lives.” She smiled, and for once she felt true emotion coming from the hen. Pride.

“That...is honestly...incredible. But why?”

The Queen chuckled, “Oh that’s easy. To prevent us from ever dragging our people into war again like that. Back then there was a large sentiment from many royal as well as common families that we not engage your nation. They were largely ignored.” She paused then shook her head sadly, “No they were completely ignored. We didn’t want that to happen again. While we still hold ultimate power, and can exercise it if we so choose, we want our people to decide their fate.”

A system almost but not quite like Equestria’s. It was a major reform for the stubborn and proud griffons. “And the armies now cropping up around the nation?” She was more than a little alarmed at knowing many nobles now had their own standing armies now.

“That is more for patrolling our own lands. Our nation has been plagued by bands of raiders and thieves. We had to pretty much close down all but one coastal town because of piracy. To curb these acts, each territory enacts its own force to protect merchants and the citizens from bandit attacks and the like.” She chuckled, another emotion, joy. “We are proud to say that two of our old ports should be open by this coming summer.” She beamed.

It was truly a complete turn around, but she had to ask.

“These changes, not just to your economy, but the social structure of how you govern your people. They were because of him weren’t they? He introduced the ideas and concepts to you.”

Instead of answering, Queen Gabriela just pushed the papers she had brought in with her closer.

Cadance cocked her head, and picked up the first sheet. As she began to read her eyes widened. The handwriting was sloppy to say the least, but the words were clear. It was a bill of some sort of rights, guaranteed to the people. The very first one would give Celestia a heart attack.

“You will allow your citizens the freedom to say what they wish?” She said in a strangled whisper.

“Yes, a completely foreign idea to tell you the truth, but there are some merits to it. It will relieve frustrations and make us aware of problems plaguing our nation. That, and the following laws will also be implemented. It is an unprecedented level of freedom for our people. But, my husband and I believe it is necessary. Not for us. But for all who will, and may one day, call this place home. They have suffered enough under our family’s terrible leadership. We don’t want the threat that it might happen again, to hang over their heads any longer.”

She quickly read over the others, and then returned to the second one. “Why allow all citizens to carry arms?”

“That one is, hah, ‘in case the first one don’t work out’.” She chuckled to herself. “The idea is actually two fold. With many farm communities being isolated from major trade roads, our own guards will not be able to cover them all, though we do hope to do something about that in the future. In the meantime, we will send our own trainers out to instruct our people in the various uses of weapons and offer them for sale.” She sighed, “and should the worst happen, should we be invaded ourselves, our people can defend nest and egg against an attacking force to their last breath.”

That actually had merits to it, and she nodded in agreement. But all this just begged the question.

“Why tell me this though. For weeks you have pretty much rebuffed every question I have asked. Why now? Why the armies? Why such vast and sweeping changes?”

“That is because we can no longer do things as our people have once done. If we are to survive, we have to adapt and change. Yes, Orion did tell us about all these ideas, in your c-hands, are his notes on everything we have planned. He had a lot, but we threw out many of the ideas just because we did not believe they would work for us.”

She paused then smiled, “As to why we are telling you this now, it was not a joint decision. To be honest my husband does not trust you. But if we are to plead our case as to the sudden changes in our nation, I felt it was best to give you some idea of what we plan and what we wish between our two kingdoms. We do not war, just help for our people. Orion just happened to be the most unlikely source.”

The confession that he was directly responsible for the new laws had her rereading everything. She had no doubt she would not be permitted to keep these notes and wanted to commit many of them to memory. Gabriela kept quiet, watching the Princess with calm eyes.

“One last question. Okay maybe three. We know he was not your agent. Princess Celestia had confirmed that on the day of his trial. So we no longer believe you to be guilty of espionage. But, why you? Why help your people? And, where did he get his knowledge from?”

“I would imagine you would have to ask him that. We asked him the same thing. His answer was not one we expected.”

“Why? Because it's the right thing to do.” The colt had not even hesitated.

They were sitting in the middle of Bloodbeak’s study. Gabriela had no idea how, but he had somehow managed to get his claws on hard cider and was drinking it with great satisfaction.

“That’s it?” Her husband was incredulous. She was confused as well. “Care to elaborate?”

Orion chuckled, “I know you have seen your own country. I know you have seen the poor, the dying in your streets. I have read about it, and never imagined it to be as bad as it is. I had merely planned to sell ideas and let you all naturally do as you would. But, the day me and Scream went out after my first night here. Holy shit, I had to do something, and you being you, words were not going to be enough. I needed proof that my plans were going to work.”

He shrugged his shoulders and took another swig.

“I can only hope you take my other advice as well. But I am not certain what all might work. Your people are certainly a whole other culture on its own.”

“So you wasted thousands of bits, all to prove your theories?” A nod. “That was a tartarus of a gamble young drake.”

“Yup, but I am glad to see the practical stuff is panning out for you guys.”

He lifted the last of his drink. “Cheers, I gotta get going. Train leaves in an hour and I bought too much shit.” They all laughed and drank the last of their own beverages.

The Queen left her chambers not too long after, taking the handwritten notes with her. Her last question had remained unanswered. Cadance knew why. They had no idea where he had gained his knowledge from.

She drummed her fingers on the table before her, biting her lip in consternation.

Celestia sighed. As much in exasperation as emotional exhaustion.

The loss of Errant Strikes still cut her deeply. In her rage she charred Velvet Backwater’s corpse to a nearly unrecognizable slag. Between the funeral, the discovery that much of the accusations against Orion Falls had no real facts to support them, and the judge and nobles who participated in that farce trial willingly, it was all she could do not to bring the castle down on everypony.

The nobles she could do little against, not without long term problems. So she simply removed them from positions of interest and authority. It would be difficult to replace them but she would figure out something. Sending them home with little to do but spend their own savings as they would no longer be getting bits from their territories. It was a slap on the wrist, but it removed them from power so it was better than nothing. She couldn’t afford to ruin her support too much after all.

She glanced at another report that had been laid on her desk that morning. Still no sign of Orion, or his corpse. As the days and weeks wore on, she was more and more certain he had somehow managed to survive the fall and had in all likelihood, fled from her borders. There was little chance that he would return despite the proclamation denouncing the lies spoken at his trial.

Still, she could not believe that all this had happened right under her nose. It had heavily damaged her image amongst her ponies. The executions, while necessary, would not be forgotten in a long time. But she had to send the message that there would be consequences for deception. Sadly, she was once again back to being the aloof ruler who loved her ponies, but had no real connection with them. All the work she had put in, destroyed by overeager supporters.

Though she did wonder if they were really her supporters. During the interrogations they had shown very little respect to her, their supposed ‘Sun’, and during their private executions they had called her a ‘false sun’ just as the ax fell. It was very disconcerting. Both having to put to death ponies that she would have done a great deal for, and their accusations.

Then there was her student, a lot of trust had been lost there, and she could only blame herself. Things with the filly should have progressed naturally. Instead Celestia had attempted to force her own desires onto the young mare. The rift between them would have to be repaired. How it was only now, after everything that has happened, she could see the error in trying to play matchmaker she had no idea. Even Cadance did not force love.

Thinking of the other Alicorn, she had yet to receive a report on her investigation of Griffonia. The nation itself was still far from a threat, but the fact that again, her spy network had been so inept not to have any clue what was going on in the north bothered her greatly. She did not know as much about the world as she once thought she had. And that made her more than a little uncomfortable.

She sighed again. Now in total exhaustion. The morning was only beginning.

Thunder Chaser was rather pleased with himself. The recent repairs had the ‘Ocean Spirit’ back almost as good as new. Well, new enough for a seventy-five year old merchant ship turned smuggler vessel. His cargo hold was full. The ‘goods’ procured through means he would call extraordinary circumstances.

The small port town of Hollyhoof had an unspoken agreement with ponies like him and his crew. As long as they paid the extra fee, the mayor and town guard looked the other way when it came down to merchants like him.

More good news, with the recent repairs done the past evening, his ship could part with the outgoing tide, before the shallows got too low for proper departure. Would do no good to beach after finally getting the haul reinforced.

But now he sat on the deck of his railing, and what held him up had to be the oldest looking stallion he had ever seen. It was a brown earth pony with more gray in their fur than the original color. The mane all but gone. One eye looked like it had been blinded. Truth be told he would have never looked twice at somepony like this.

What had him on pause, was the bits clenched in the old pony’s gnarled fingers. A substantial amount. Thunder couldn’t be sure as he never had taken on passengers before, but it might have been triple what most vessels would charge for passengers on the regular.

“I understand ye be wanting safe passage old timer, but this here is not a liner. It’s a merchant vessel. I only have some much space.” His senses were tingling. He did not know why, but despite what the stallion looked like, all hunched over, there was something off.

The voice that spoke back was as if a tomb was speaking, he half expected dust to pelt his face.

“I understand that sonny. But….see this is all I have left in this world. I have been stuck in Dodge City all my life. I have no family, nor grandfoals to call my own. I want to see something of the world while I can still keep two hooves under me. I won’t get in the way. And I’ll stick to myself as best I can. I’m still healthy despite this bent back of mine. Besides.” He winked his blind eye, mucus webbed between the two lids, Thunder barely kept himself from shuddering. “I know this vessel is not just a freighter. Not that I would tell a soul, but I figured you ponies would not mind making some easy bits on the side for one passenger.”

He blinked. This pony was not as blind as his left eye would make anypony believe. He almost chuckled. “You do realize, our profession is dangerous, and taking an old timer like yourself on would not mean we would protect you. Right?” If this old stallion was that gung ho about it, he would take his bits, even give him meals. But he wasn’t going to promise to take care of him. “You know how to use the head right?”

“Oh yes, just like a regular toilet but without the flushing. I trust there will be a bucket of water to wash out the nastiness?” The old pony grinned back. Missing teeth making Thunder want to brush his own again.

“Yes, but you will have to fill it up yourself, understand?” The stallion just nodded, shouldering his surprisingly large rucksack and still holding out the bits.

“I trust meals will be provided?” He got a nod in return. “I would pay extra to have them delivered to whatever closet you plan to shove my flank into. Somehow, judging by your reactions to me, your crew might not be as pleased to watch me eat.”

That got a sage nod from the captain. His crew was mostly mares, tough seafaring ladies, but he doubted they would want to watch the old codger eat either. He knew he didn’t.

“For the amount you’re offering, I would say I could have them served to you on a silver platter, if we had any.” The both chuckled, and he swiped two thirds of the bits offered. “I’ll not be ripping an old pony like you off. You seem the decent sort, not minding my business and such.” He was a stallion of principal after all. No weapons, and no slaves. Now he would add not ripping off the elderly to his list of no’s.

The stallion pressed the rest of the bits into his pocket surprisingly fast. “I insist. After all, you are looking after an old pony.”

“If that's what you want. See the red mare over there? That's Bright Star, she will show you to one of the very few private rooms we have, it’s not big, but it should accommodate you just fine.” He watched as the spry old stallion practically danced onto the deck, the shoulders not as bowed as before. “Huh, might not be a burden after all.”

Looking to the horizon he judged it time. Time to once again set to sea where he could be as free as he wanted to be. Horslulu was supposed to be lovely this time of year, and much of his goods were heading in that direction.

“Miss Gibbon. Let's get this old girl to sea.”