An Equestrian Rogue

by Cyris_Zephyr

Rating: mature
Tags: Violence, Princess Celestia, Slice of Life, Human, Main 6, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Princess Cadance, Romance, Princess Luna, Bat Pony, Profanity, Adventure
Length: 95007

A modern-age human is summoned and told to carry out a specific mission under threat of death: Kill the four Princesses within one year. This is his journey to his freedom.

A soldier since childhood. An engineer and genius. A deadly master of poisons and daggers. An arrogant, cynical, realist who has seen the worst of humanity--and taken part in it. A neurotic overthinker who not only thinks outside of the box, but will attempt to outthink the box six-ways-to-Sunday. A deranged lunatic who thrives on lies, deceit, and chaos.

All of these describe the human, Thorne. He has been thrust into an alternate reality--a reality with a hint of modern and medieval touches. A world full of magic, wonder, and monsters. Thorne, who was called into the world due to his dark-hearted nature, now stands at the cusp of a new world with only one mission--kill the four princesses of Equestria within one year. To disobey or fail means death.

This is his journey into a land unknown.
--
Author's Foreword: Started as a passion project but evolved into a personal love letter to a show & fandom. It's a story about redemption and friendship. And now features cover art I did myself!
I'll try to keep the tags accurate. And I apologize for terrible pony names.
Warning: This can and will get dark and gory, as well as have references to sex and intimacy. Don't know if it deserves the tags. If it does, let me know.

Published 2021-03-18 19:40:01 UTC
Last updated 2021-06-15 00:19:00 UTC

2. First Steps

“Okay that’s a fucking lie, I know it has to be!” Thorne exclaimed as he nearly choked on the meat he had shoved into his mouth.

The Master merely chuckled and waved his hand. He had lain down near the fire, his hooved limbs curling under him. Thorne sat with a ragged poncho thrown over him. It was more akin to a rug with the patterns and colors it sported--almost like it was straight from the Incan era back on his world. If it wasn’t for his Master claiming it was just some cloth, he may have thought it a relic of some kind.

“It’s true. Two of the princesses are able to control the sun and moon and stars.”

“So what happens when I kill them?”

“No idea!”

“Okay you’re an idiot. Great. My employer isn’t thinking things through.” Thorne took the beige clay cup he had been offered that was full of water and drank deeply of it. He sighed out, thankful for it. “No offense, but that… If that’s true, and you want them dead--again, I’m not asking why but I’m just questioning the… okay yeah I guess I’m asking why. Fuck.”

“No offense is taken, but I have this feeling you’re already thinking of ways to get out of this.” The Master said with a roll of his eyes.

“Maybe.” Thorne replied matter-of-factly. “It’s just… that seems more like the power of gods than… Horses.”

“Ponies.”

“Right, whatever.”

The Master rose up from his seated position in order to refill the cup for his newly acquired servant. Thorne was appreciative of it and nodded in thanks.

“So these ponies have this magic and you want me to go kill them. Alright. I’ve taken impossible odds before, but I was kind of hoping to avoid battling deities. I don’t mind going and trying to punch god, but I need more incentive!”

The centaur burst out laughing at that. “Ha! Punch god!” He bellowed. “Ah. Oh human, you are truly funny. Please, their magic pales in comparison to other powerful practitioners of it! Trust me, nothing bad will happen to this world. There will be others that take up their mantle. Or their duties.”

“If you say so…” Thorne glanced away as he took a sip, disbelieving that.

“As far as incentive, I’m amazed you’ve not asked a price--I’ve merely held you hostage. You seem to not value your life--” The Master was interrupted as Thorne held up his motorized hand, wishing to speak.

“I do not value my life. Let’s clear that air right now. As I said before: I adhere to rules. And if you weren’t willing to follow them, I was ready to die right then and there. In my line of work, you are always at the ready.”

“A sad existence, but you make a welcome tool.”

‘Not the first time I’ve heard that one.’

“What would you like? Money? Power? Women?”

“All of the above sound great.”

The centaur blinked. “Truly a creature of selfishness. Very well. Kill your targets and I am sure we can work something out before sending you home--” against the Master was interrupted.

“Send me home? I was on my deathbed. No, no sending me home. Out of the question.”

The centaur balked at this. “I have several questions, but you refuse to answer them and I don’t want to torture them out of you. So you don’t wish to go home. I suppose that is good, because I don’t rightfully know how to send you back. I assumed in this quest you’d die, first and foremost. I also thought you’d take enough time for me to figure out a way to reverse this transaction.”

Thorne remained silent but nodded, understanding the feeling. He didn’t care what happened. He wasn’t going back.

‘Only way is forward.’

The mage rose yet again and walked over to a nearby shelf, grabbing a trinket. He tossed it to the human who caught it with a few juggles. “A totem to keep the one who controls the moon from your dreams.”

Thorne had been taking a sip of water and admiring the token. The moment ‘keep from your dreams’ was said, he spit his water into the fire, causing it to roar in protest. “I’m sorry, what?!” he yelled.

“What? She has the ability to see into dreams. And she can interrogate you within them.” The Master said in a calm response. “It would be best if you appear as a dreamless sleeper. Keep that totem on you while you sleep.”

Thorne rubbed his fingers over it. It was a wooden moon, carved with the appearance of an almost spiteful face into it. It was grinning with a pointy nose and wide, madness-filled eyes. It reminded him of something back home. “The Crooked Moon…” he said to himself.

“An intriguing name. It does look rather crooked.” The Master smirked. “Remind you of something, did it? Your wide-eyed expression gives it away.”

‘Shit.’

“Hrm. Not to get sentimental, but yes. It reminded me of fun times with friends. Didn’t take you for one to read expressions, Master.” Thorne replied as he let his face go to neutral.

The centaur shrugged. “Easily done and I’ve had a few life-times to study.”

‘Ah, so I’m dealing with ancient and magic-infused creatures. Throw a dragon into the mix and I’m going to lose my damn mind.’

Thorne poured over the tiny wooden carving a moment before taking his necklace off. He undid the chain and slipped the totem onto the metal, sliding it all the way down. Snapping it back together, he slung it back around his neck. “There. Glad it had a little hoop. Nice forethought.”

“I figured it’d be easier to slip it around the neck. Plus I saw your medallion and thanked providence you came with a way of holding it,” The Master waved his hand dismissively. “Now. You’ve been given your information, food, water, cloth for travel, and a rinse to get the blood off you. It’ll be a three day trek until you reach the sea.”

Thorne raised an eyebrow at that.

“You’ll find an abandoned ship that can be crewed by one. Take it and sail into the sun. You’ll find the lands of Equestria within two days. From there, you will be on your own. Though, if you need to report something to me, you can contact me by tapping where the curse mark resides. You’ll need a mirror and no light in the room.”

“Right… Magic. Got it. Time table on this mission?”

“I expect you to complete it within the year.”

“Year? Huh. I usually get so much less time…” Thorne said with an appreciative tone.

“I promised you your freedoms. And I’ve learned from previous attempts a foolish bug made upon trying to infiltrate Canterlot… It takes time and patience.”

‘Foolish bug?’ Thorne raised his eyebrow again. ‘I suppose I’ll learn about that at some point…’

“You are free to leave right now if you wish. Just know this: Never think of betraying me. The moment you do, I will know. And the curse will take you. You’re cunning and devious. I can see it in your eyes,” The Master squinted at the human. “You will try to have it removed. Just know that if anyone discovers that upon your person, they will kill you. It is a dark mark that has been used on assassins before. And your enemies will know of its history--though they’ve not seen it in a thousand years.”

Thorne would step back and lower his head, placing his left hand over his chest. He bowed. “Of course, my Master. Your will be done.”

“Good, good. You’re free to stay until morning,” The Master said as he shifted to grab another piece of meat for himself.

“You’re too generous, Master. But I have much work to do. If you’ll excuse me. I’ll give you regular updates when I can.”

‘I don’t want any more charred meat or mud water, thanks.’ Thorne to himself as he turned, wrapping himself as much as he could with the poncho before leaving the cavern. It was starting to get dusk. He knew the cold would come in the desert. ‘Better than staying in that arrogant beast’s hospitality…’

Once he was out of the cavern, he gazed about. Desert for several directions with no signs or landmarks. ‘Hmm… Fuck.’

“Before I go, Master! Which way to the ocean?”

The centaur looked at the man like he was an idiot. “Just keep following the direction of the rising sun. Same as when you get on the water.”

“Right. On it!”

‘If the sun set there, then it must rise there. Right?’ He looked to the setting sun and then to the opposite of it. ‘Simple!’

With that, Thorne took off into a mad sprint. He was exhausted and malnourished, he could tell. But he knew survival. He had his training. He would see this world in all of its splendor.

And then leave a bloody trail as he lined his pockets with treasure.

‘Or I could just die in the desert!’

He looked about. Still nothing. He had passed a few bones of other creatures, wondering if that trip to the library would give him any insight to some of the creatures. How the desert could be so empty, yet somehow have this centaur race in it, he had no idea. He also wondered what were some of the other creatures he had spied upon the tapestry within his Master’s abode. They had looked like some type of flying species, almost kind of like bats. But they were far more muscular and menacing.

It was the middle of the night. The moon was high in the sky and the temperature was cold. However, it wasn’t what he was expecting. He was expecting a freezing chill, but this was just a cool night. He had complained about shrinkage, but decided he wasn’t going to get any tail--a joke that made him question if that was appropriate if the nation he was about to intrude upon was full of ponies. Then it began a long debate on whether that would happen. Or if he’d allow himself to get that desperate.

It culminated in him cursing at the moon and demanding this nation had better have all the amenities he was used to. Those being cigars, booze, and women. He was sure they had women but what type was the question. This led him back into a circle of logic and debates and questioning of morality and sensibility.

It had been several miles, he assumed, of him walking. He had been careful to not fall into the trap of going in circles since he was right-side dominant. Though he called himself ambidextrous, he still favored his right heavily. It was grueling, walking barefooted through the sand. He had lost his footing several times, nearly costing him the spoils his Master had given him. Though when he looked at what was given, he realized it would need to be rationed. And it didn’t look too appetizing. A canteen of water, cured meats and a few greens that would likely spoil in a week. But he couldn’t complain. It was balanced, he gave his Master that.

Still he wondered how he was keeping so warm. It actually felt like his body was being covered, even if he was mostly bare. Then he happened to examine his poncho, as if that might be the reason. But magic existed in this world. Feats of wondrous things could be done here. He came to the conclusion that had to be it; it had to be protecting him from the chill. He wondered if it would also keep him from overheating in the heat of the day.

Though deep down, a part of him wondered if that was just the weather of this world. Yet another thing to ask locals about. If he found any. He doubted he would encounter anyone on his trek east--or rather, ‘in the direction of the rising sun’. At least not until he got out of this desert. And the ocean.

‘The ocean.’

He thought to himself again. ‘Will I encounter a naval blockade if this is where that fucking summoner has been banished to? Surely they might have guards patrolling the waters… But if this is a land of ponies, then how do they operate things like a boat? That asshole said there was a boat waiting for me…’

He continued walking as he thought, careful and mindful of any listing his body did. ‘And just what about this boat? How long has it been sitting there, unused?’

His stomach growled in protest. ‘No, shut up. We can last longer. No food until tomorrow. We’re fine, damn it. Besides, I don’t want itchy ass cleft before the water. Granted, I wouldn’t want to rub salt water on it… Will it be salt water? Just how Earth-like is this planet... ‘

He brought his free hand up and rubbed the bridge of his nose. The mechanical digits were freezing and it broke him from his neuroticism. “Fuck!” He howled out as he whipped the hand down to his side. “Lord that’s cold!... Wait…” He brought his hand back up and touched his forehead. It felt like ice. Yet the weather seemed hospitable. “Yep. Magic. Ha! Take that, I got a magical blanket!”

Nothing responded to him.

“Oh fuck I’m talking to myself already… Gods damn it.”

3. A Desert Dream

Thorne managed to make it until noon. No food, no sleep, and barely taking sips from his water. It was a three day trek to the ocean, and then another two at sea. He had been walking through sand for what felt like an eternity. He had grown to hate it when he was serving in Egypt, now he wished he was back there.

With the sun overhead at full splendor, the heat made him worry for his circuitry. He knew he had designed it to be water-proof, sweat-proof, and extreme-climate usable. But he didn’t take into account the strange magical pony-filled climate. Every now and again he’d flex his fingers to make sure it was still within working order. Though he knew with every little twitch, it wore down that time limit.

‘Why couldn’t that asshole summon up a car, or a helicopter, or maybe just portal me to my fucking destination?’ He thought, his words full of spite. ‘Lucky I even managed to get any rations for the trip. Bastard almost let me leave without them…’

Thorne sighed. He resigned himself to dig into his bag and pop a few bites of meat and another swill of water. ‘I’ll need to find a place to lie down and take a nap. Might as well start switching to a night time schedule. Easier to work in the shadows… Doubt these people--ponies. These ponies. Fucking. Ponies. I doubt they’ll have much activity at night. Ponies weren’t nocturnal on Earth, so, should be the same. Though, if they’re all unicorns… That could be a problem. Doesn’t take a genius to make a few balls of light. Or levitate a candle. And if they’re true magi, then they’ll likely know fireball. And I’d rather not get my nuggets fried.’

He chortled to himself. It was a humorous thought. It left him wondering if they had any accidents with all the fur and manes. It must be a hectic society. And a more primal one. He started having doubts about their sophistication. Though, if the centaur was to be an example, it at least seemed mostly medieval. Which led down another line of thinking.

‘I’ll need weapons. And the quality of metal around here… ‘

He had to pause for a moment and inhale deeply, trying to focus his thoughts. “Okay. I’m not a blacksmith, but if I can get my hands on the materials, I could make a rudimentary dagger, some throwing knives, a sword, and maybe make a hand-crossbow. Maybe I could make a flintlock? I doubt I could make a full gun. Especially without the know-how. But a rudimentary design could be done…”

Thorne let the thought pass and inhaled again, letting the breath fill his body before flowing out to steady his mind. “I would need gunpowder. Would also need to make the rounds. Probably make several of them in order to have multiple shots…”

‘Oh good, I get to role-play Blackbeard! A childhood favorite.’ He snickered mentally before putting one foot in front of the other yet again. He had to take another swig of water to wet his mouth. ‘Though, a pistol is loud and gives away position. And maybe I’m being a bit too hopeful with that idea. I understand the concept, but making one… Another story…’

The man sighed at that. ‘Damn it.’ He shook it off and continued his thoughts aloud.

“Ponies. Something tells me they have to use leather, but the question is, do they approve of it? Or maybe they have some kind of faux-leather? Ponies are herbivores, so they wouldn’t need the meat... But the centaur ate meat, so perhaps it isn’t taboo.”

He groaned. “Ugh. Social customs and norms. I’m going to have to relearn them all. And I doubt I could get away with the ‘Lord’ title. Sure they have a Princess and might have nobles, but I’m a human! I could probably pass as a noble, maybe. Depends on how people treat nobles. Wonder if it’s with any disdain? Or maybe I should keep that in my back pocket? I think I could do it, but I’d have to be more… refined. Easily done, so long as I’m not pissed. Or taking word-shivs to someone... I know how crass I can be when that happens.”

Thorne rubbed his brow of sweat with the poncho. He hoped he could wash the thing at some point. And he hoped the washing didn’t undo the magic. “Going to be even more tan after this. Or burnt as shit…” He shrugged that painful idea off. For now he needed to keep moving. His pace picked up into a jog.

‘I don’t know but I’ve been told…’ he started to count off in his head.

A rock went sailing into the cavern, bouncing off the walls and skipping to a stop. It was illuminated by the westward light, so he had that going for him. It didn’t appear deep, but looks had cost him in the past in several instances.

‘If not for bad luck, we’d have no luck at all. Thanks mom,’ the thought to himself as Thorne cautiously made his way into the den. ‘But it appears as though luck is on my side… for once.’

He hadn’t seen any animal signs. No tracks, no bones, nothing to indicate leavings. Though that nagging feeling in his brain that tried it’s hardest to keep him alive told him that he didn’t know any of the animals of this world. He didn’t understand what they were capable of.

Another more cocky voice told him that the animals didn’t know what he was capable of.

He had been walking for another several hours and had finally come to a chasm. The terrain had started to shift rather rapidly from pure dunes to reddish rock. From there, it led into several plateaus and rocky spires. They were sparse, but a welcomed sight to tired eyes. It meant the possibility of shelter.

Thorne didn’t want to rest, however. But his body was telling him otherwise. He was drenched in sweat, starting to chafe in places, and needed to secede himself from the elements for a respite. He had learned many years ago that a dull mind and dull body led to a quick death--a death he wasn’t going to allow himself. Not yet.

Once inside the cavern, he would give it a good once over in order to make sure it only had one entrance and exit. Assured nothing would get the jump on him, he sat himself down. He didn’t enjoy not having much of any covering, but he knew he would make due. If several tribes of humans could make it with their genitals hanging out for everyone to see, then he could too. At least that’s what he told himself, though the comforts he had grown used to kept prodding at his tired mind.

It would need to be a short rest. He came to the conclusion that he was making expert timing and he must be over halfway there already. Thorne was already skipping meals, passing up on frequent rests, and even full sleep. On top of that, he assumed his stride may have not been that of a centaur, but with him jogging and even sprinting, he should be outpacing the Master. His estimates told him that tomorrow he should at least start smelling the ocean breeze toward the end of the day.

He settled in and took a few bites of the carrots that had been packed into his pack. ‘Going to need a true backpack…’ a passing thought told him. Another swig of his water and he leaned back against the rock. He brought his knees to his chest, curling up as defensively as he could. He kept his head locked on the entrance as his eyelids grew heavy. ‘Quick nap. Maybe this totem makes me have no dreams… That’d be a reprieve.’

With that final thought, he went out.

“Fall back! Fall back!” The static from the distance slurred the words in the radio. With a simple click, Thorne turned it off.

“Major?” A voice across the hall called out.

“Yes, Captain?”

“I… It’s nothing sir.”

“No, go ahead Ulysses, speak freely,” Thorne responded. He held his cover, back against the corridor opposite the hallway of his captain in a kneeling position. His hands were idly checking his magazines, topping them off from an ammunition box and slipping them into his vest pockets.

The sound of a shell being racked echoed from the captain. He looked down the barrel of his shotgun, inhaled deeply, and peeked around the corner, firing a blind shot before returning to cover. “That was the order to fall back, sir! We should adhere!” He pumped again, ejecting the spent shell and the familiar click of another sliding into place followed it.

Thorne watched as the casing hit the ground. Tracers went flying by in his field of vision as more turret fire went beating into the lobby wall that separated the distance between the two men. The major could only grin and stand up. He lifted his rifle and slammed home a freshly filled mag. He pulled the slide with a mechanical finger and flicked his safety off.

“You will be falling back, Captain. I will remain here,” He shouted over the roar of gunfire. “Circle back down your hallway. Take the stairs to the basement and then hit the switch!”

“Sir! That wasn’t part of the plan!”

“A change of plans!” Thorne responded with a grin as he stepped from cover, unloading a burst of fire. The scream of someone being winged filled the lobby. He was swiftly back behind his cover just as fast as he had ducked from it. “Go! Let me have my fun!”

“Sir, yes sir!” Ulysses responded. He gave a nod and took off, checking his corner before heading out of sight.

Thorne chuckled darkly. He stepped back outside, recoiling slightly as his vest caught a round. It was quickly sent right back as he returned fire. This time, he didn’t stop squeezing the trigger. Each burst laid down heavy suppressing fire, buying his captain enough time to make his way down the stairs. He had already counted off the seconds and he had enough of a bullet hose to give him a good head start.

Another round went into his vest, along with several glancing off his arm. Those made him pull away and retreat back behind cover. But it was enough of a show. He heard the sound he was aiming for.

“Push up!”

‘Oh you poor lost souls…’

Thorne simply dropped the gun, letting the strap catch it, and reached back behind him, pulling out two daggers. Black blades with a hint of steel shimmering in the light. Each one was a reflection of the other. Straight edges with firm grips. They weren’t large, but clearly had heft to them. They also didn’t seem special, but they meant everything to the one holding them.

The man took a deep breath, quieting his mind. Everything fell away in that moment. All he focused on was the sound of their movements. His heartbeat increased as he felt the familiar rush of elation.

An orchestra started to play. He could hear the music in his mind. A symphony of blood and death that only he could hear. There he stood as the curtains rose. He was in the theatre he had come to call home. A wicked grin played along his lips and his fingers curled tighter on each dagger.

Then came the moment. An explosion rocked the lobby. Screams of pain and terror were his chorus. The lights of the building flickered and shuddered in response, the entire structure groaning in pain. On his heel he spun from cover and ducked low, rushing into the fray. The confusion wrought by the explosion had made several of his other actors spin right on queue to face the threat and help their comrades, giving their leading actor his dues.

Blood began to seep from the debris that had collapsed atop the enemy combatants. Many of them were compressed to nothing and several others were pinned alive, their sweet essence flowing from torn limbs and mangled bodies.

But the stage wasn’t for them--they were merely playing their parts as extras. The four that had been the forward push were the co-stars in this grand piece. In the seconds it took them to realize they were still well within enemy lines of fire, they were already too late. They had heard the heavy boots of Thorne as he sprinted at them, his body half leaning over in a madman’s dash. When the lights flickered, they could see the twisted and malevolent face that was swiftly closing in.

The two in the back got their weapons up just in time to place a few shots--shots that failed to hit their target. The two in front of them, however, merely got a moment to swear as daggers went plunging into their unprotected necks. The back-spray as each knife was removed was immense as their heart rates had climbed to panicked levels. The crimson tide that flowed upon Thorne was a soothing mist he welcomed.

It was all a swift motion. He had shimmied side-to-side in a lazy serpentine as he approached his targets, sending bullets narrowly missing. From there he had brought himself up and drove the daggers hard into the two throats. But he was required to pause for a moment, allowing the two men ahead of him to put a few more rounds into his chest plate. Thorne ignored what was probably a cracked rib or two. He knew the plate would hold, but it wouldn’t hold forever.

From that motion, a new one began. Once he had ripped their throats asunder, again he was on the attack. The two soldiers ahead of him took their steps back, but their backs were reminded that the roof had collapsed on their comrades. Thorne targeted the one on his right, savoring the look of fear in the eyes. The light of the moon began to pour in and ignited those gold eyes and silver hair. Blood coated him, giving Thorne an almost ethereal appearance--a ghost come to claim what passed as their souls.

The right soldier was swiftly claimed as Thorne plunged his dagger just under the plate and into the man’s guts. From there, Thorne used him as a sandbag, shifting and turning him forcefully as his friend emptied his remaining shots into the back of his now betrayed comrade. Another dagger ended the sandbag’s life. He was promptly discarded, leaving a deeply breathing Thorne looking at the one remaining.

Of course his last co-star would try to play the hero--it was to be expected. He dropped his rifle and pulled his service pistol. But it came too late. Thorne closed the gap in the blink of an eye.

“No, no, no!” Were the man’s last words. They were so common, but the audience loved them! They were turned into gurgles as a blade found itself going into the chin and into the brain. With it removed and the soldier falling limp, the daggers were shaken of their blood and sheathed.

Thorne heard the conclusion of the orchestra and the curtain closing. He would spin about, ignoring the puddles of blood and mashed entrails that sloshed around his boots. He simply took a bow, placing his right hand on his heart and his left behind him. It was heartfelt and respectful. A bow he saved for those he considered worthy.

“Another beautiful performance…” he said with an elated tone.

An alarm tore him from his bliss. “One that shan’t have an encore…” he exhaled, coming down from his high. He picked his rifle up from its hanging position and checked the mag and slide. Once confident he was in working order and that his body wasn’t about to give out, he hustled out of the lobby and down toward where the captain had trundled off too.

It took a few minutes, but he managed to get down into the basement. There, waiting by a truck, was his captain. They shared a nod and Thorne took his rifle off, throwing it into the waiting back seat after flicking the safety back on. Next on the list was the bulletproof vest. “How long until we’re clear?” He asked Ulysses.

“We’re T-minus three mikes,” the captain responded.

“Affirmative,” Thorne replied. He jogged over to the nearby garage door and hit the button, rolling the metal door up. He rushed back to the truck and began to tear the fatigues and boots off, replacing them with a power company jumpsuit. His captain was swiftly doing the same.

“Enjoy yourself, sir?” the captain asked.

“Of course I did, Ulysses. I always do when I’m in my theatre.”

“Right,” the man replied with a bit of sarcasm to draw it out.

“Alright. I’m dressed. I’m going to check the street. You get the truck started and pull up once I give the signal, yeah?”

“Affirmative, sir.”

Thorne raced back to the door that was now all the way open. He looked back to the truck. They had stolen an electric company’s work truck as well as clothing. The resistance soldiers would be too busy with the explosion and too busy looking for the armored truck they had arrived in.

‘We’ll walk right out the back and none will be the wiser…!’ The major thought to himself with a pleased smugness. He checked the street and saw it was clear, waving his captain forward. The man had gotten the truck started and pulled forward to meet the major.

Thorne scampered over to the passenger side once Ulysses was out on the street proper, both of them illuminated by moonlight, though Ulysses was more concealed as the shadows of the truck overtook him in the driver side. Thorne opened the door. A brief moment of pain went surging through his chest.

The silenced pistol fired off five shots right into his stomach and chest.

Immediately the look of betrayal filled Thorne’s face as he stared at his captain.

“Sweet dreams, my Lord.” Ulysses spat. He put his foot to the gas and took off, the door slamming shut from the force.

Thorne fell to his knees in disbelief. His mind began to race. He put his hands to his chest and felt the warm liquid spilling out from the wounds. It took a moment for his instincts to kick in. He tried to apply pressure but fell back and cried out in agony.

‘No… No! You bastard… not… not like this! I can’t…’

Tears slowly began to pool at the edges of his eyes as he stared at the bright and silver moon with broken gasps filling the night air. He could hear the sirens and the boots of soldiers closing in.

‘I won’t… I can’t…’

His mind tried to form words but it couldn’t. He reached out to the moon as if it would help him. And in that moment, he began to pray. Pray to anything that would listen.

“No…!” he exclaimed weakly, defying the sweet sleep that called to him. But his eyes were watery and weary. They demanded he close them. To blink out the pain and misery that was welling up inside of him. But in an instant, he felt something different. His eyes instead went wide.

There, in the moon, a pair of eyes were looking back at him. Silver and glowing. Menacing and full. They demanded answers. They demanded his attention. They demanded his respect.

They demanded him.

Thorne snapped awake.

4. A Dire Nightmare

A groggy Luna awoke from her slumber. Slowly the room began to fill itself in as blurry eyes tried to focus. A dimly lit den of the Princess of the Night that protected her from the harshness of her sister’s sun. Her sheets and bed were unsightly as she had apparently tossed and turned in this day’s slumber.

Then the events of her sleep hit her.

With a bolt she rose from her bed and began to adjust herself. She had royal duties to attend too, but those would need to wait. She had to make herself presentable. She was dutifully pushing the urge to just race to her sister in order to tell her what had transpired, but she was finishing her daily routine--yet another glorious day of tending to the court.

She took the time to wash herself, check her feathered wings, fix her mane, down a cup of coffee, dress herself in her usual garb, tend to Tiberius, make sure her alarm was off--it was two hours before she was scheduled to wake--and finally swing the door to her quarters open with a magical pull.

Two startled stallion guards immediately cut their conversation and went to attention with a salute.

Princess Luna looked at the two. She nodded to one. “You. Go inform Kibitz I’ve awoken and I am in need of a moment to speak with my sister alone.”

“Yes ma’am!” The stallion took off at a breakneck pace down the hallway.

“You! With me.”

The other stallion nodded. “Yes ma’am!” He had a quizzical look on his face for a moment as Luna passed him by, her pace quick and face filled with what he could label as ‘concerned determination’. The guardsman had to exert himself in order to keep up with the quick trot that Luna was making.

As they passed by other guards in the hall, several fell in behind her, each of them exchanging a few words in order to get a surmise of the situation. Though all of them were just as confused. None of them were about to challenge the Lunar of the diarchy and ask her what was occurring.

It was a matter of minutes at the brisk pace that she reached the throne room. Several dignitaries and noble ponies were looking at her with a questioning gaze, though they bowed and gave her the respect she deserved as she passed them by. Some had the gall to look rather opposed to being thrown out even though it was a good hour before the court saw the end of the day’s work. Those looks were quickly wiped clean from muzzles as the side-eyes glance of Princess Luna caught them. Though she said nothing, it was a look that they knew all too well. A mare with a mission and she wasn’t to be stopped.

The doors to the throne room swung open as the two unicorn guards led the way for Luna to enter.

On the dais, Princess Celestia sat as elegantly as always with soft eyes and a gentle smile. Beside her was Kibitz, a gray-haired male unicorn with bushy eyebrows, his mane and tail drawn back into a ponytail. On his body he wore a red coat, a gray caveat, and undersized glasses. Even his eyes were gray. His coat was more stand-out-ish as it was a pale gamboge. He stared at his watch a moment before gazing up to see Princess Luna. He stuffed it away and raised an eyebrow as she approached the dais.

The gentle tone of Celestia clearing her throat was enough to bring him from his questioning. “Oh! Yes. Terribly sorry, your Highness. I shall excuse myself.” With that, Kibitz bowed and backed away, stepping down from the dais. Once he was at a respectable distance, he turned and exited the throne room.

“So, Luna, what seems to be the pleasure of having you end my day early?” Celestia asked with a calm tone, one that was still in the throes of dealing with the rituals of the court.

“You sound almost displeased, Tia” Luna smirked, not hiding the snark.

Celestia let a soft giggle. “Not at all. You saved me from a very heated argument over property values and zoning laws. But it is rare to receive you like this. What’s the matter, Lulu?” Celestia stood and fluttered off the dais with a powerful flap of her majestic white-feathered wings that matched her pristine white coat. The aurora of colors that was her mane and tail fluttered in the gentle breeze as she took off and landed in front of her sister.

Luna let a sigh she didn’t know she was holding. “I was sleeping peacefully when I encountered a nightmare. And it wasn’t like I was looking for any to deal with. But this one was... obscured.”

Celestia let another chortle escape her. “Interrupting court for a nightmare you had? I thought you were a grown mare, Lulu.”

“Tia this is serious!” Luna exclaimed.

Celestia blinked and took a step back. “I see… Sorry, Luna. Just trying to lighten the mood as you always do.” She took that step forward to reclaim the distance she put between them, her voice resolute.

“Sorry. It was… not a pleasant way to wake up,” Luna shook her head, sending her swirling nebulous mane back and forth from the force. It flowed like an endless cosmic expanse, the opposite of her sisters. “This nightmare fought me. Or rather it was, as I said, obscured. It was there, but not tangible. I could peer into it, but details were foggy and confusing. It actively pushed back against me trying to enter it… And I’ve encountered this a few times before.”

Celestia gave her a quizzical eyebrow, wanting her to continue to explain.

Luna inhaled. “Assassins.”

The Solar of the diarchy tensed a moment, her wings shifting to open if only enough to brace herself against those words.

Luna saw her sister’s apprehension and continued on, “Certain items could be instilled with magical properties to ward anyone from prying into their dreams. This one wasn’t at full strength because I think the carrier of the item wasn’t in a deep enough sleep. Nor did the one having this nightmare seem fazed by the events. Usually a nightmare has bits and pieces that are twisted and contorted. Dreams come from memory, but usually details are lost... Not this one. It was as if it was just a memory in dream format, perfectly playing out. The subject of it simply going through the motions at will. And with a fervent struggle I managed to peer deep into it. The moment I did, however, it was gone. It was as if they felt my presence. As if they knew something was amiss.”

Celestia looked from her sister and approached one of the glass mosaics that filled the throne room. The still image of Cadence and Shining Armor at their wedding, prevailing over the changeling invasion was etched into the colorful glass. She looked out at the waning daylight. “So you believe you witnessed an assassin dreaming? One who has magic to fight against your magical influence in dreams and has the mental fortitude to know when it's been breached?”

The voice Luna heard was one filled with sorrow. No fear, no scheming, no survival instincts. It was pure sorrow upon hearing what her sister hypothesized.

“I do, Tia.” Luna said morosely, lowering her head toward the ground in a somber motion.

“Then we’ll need to prepare. We’ll need to inform Cadence, Shining Armor, and Twilight…” Celestia let a heavy sigh. “We can’t risk summoning them all to Canterlot, especially if we are the targets. We’ll also need to inform our allies and all of the brave ponies protecting our lands.”

Luna raised herself back up. “You think this assassin could target anyone or anywhere? Surely not!”

Celestia looked back to Luna and shook her head. “No, I do believe we are likely the targets--or that perhaps some noble or dignitary might be a target as well. But we can’t just assume that since we’re held in high regard… ”

The air around Celestia began to rise in temperature as her temper flared. “But I refuse to let this scoundrel hurt our citizens or our allies!” She stomped a hoof. “We just recently fought back the Storm King and I won’t suffer more victims!”

Celestia gave a snort. She then saw the heated air around her and quickly quelled her temper with a deep breath. “Sorry,” she muttered.

Luna sat back on her haunches and clapped her hooves together. “Brava, sister! Well said! You deserve to let some of that anger out!”

Celestia let a hint of red go across her cheeks. “You know I don’t for a reason. Same reason as you, Lulu. Anger and magic do not mix.”

Luna nodded sagely. “We know this very well.” She got back up and looked toward the throne room door. “Tia, a question.”

Celestia stepped back close to her sister. “Hmm?”

“Are you going to send a few guards to watch over Twilight and her school?”

Celestia smirked. “You say that like I might not already have them there.”

“Tia…” Luna’s tone drug out the vowels with concern.

“I’m kidding. I doubt she would enjoy having a few guards around her, and her friends are always at her side when she needs them…”

“And what if they are the targets as well?”

“Good point.” Celestia retorted with an exhausted sigh. “We may have too. Might as well send a small detachment to watch over Ponyville and Twilight.”

Luna nodded. “I’ll see it done. You should send a message to her post haste.”

Celestia looked back toward the door, following her sister's gaze. “I shall… Something wrong? You’ve been staring at the door…”

Luna seemed to come from her lucid trance. “Mm? Oh. Sorry.”

“Think they are already nearby?” Celestia questioned.

“No. The dream I found was haggard and weak. It seemed a far off echo. It, however, was still strong enough to be noticed,” Luna quickly dashed the sound of concern within Celestia’s voice. “Just can’t shake this feeling that something big is coming. And it’ll be… interesting.”

Celestia gave her a flat look. “You think there is an assassin out there and yet you think it will be interesting.”

“Certainly breaks up the routine, doesn’t it?” Luna gave a sly grin. One that chipped away at Celestia’s visage until she had her own little smile.

“That it does, Luna, that it does.” She responded with a lighthearted laugh.

5. Instincts & Promises

Thorne kept looking back at the moon as he trudged across the lunar-lit rocks. ‘Those fucking eyes… Was that what that windbag warned me about? What about the totem!? Why didn’t it work?! Or...did it? He made it seem like she could influence dreams…’

He had slept a bit longer than he had wanted, but at least it was undisturbed by natural causes. He had one of his favorite 'nightmares', though he was hoping the totem would keep them at bay. Luck wasn’t on his side on that one, but he counted his blessings that he got to rest without an animal or any insects annoying him.

Thorne shifted the pack across his shoulder and broke into a brisk walk, his eyes falling from the lunar body and back onto his path. His mind fell back into his surroundings and what he should be expecting. ‘I shouldn’t be off my original trajectory. If that boat is a straight shot from his cave, then I shouldn’t have deviated by more than a couple meters. I should see it on the shoreline when I arrive. Though if it isn’t…’

The man paused a moment. “Oh fuck me sideways if it isn’t anywhere within line of sight, I am going to scream.” He grumbled and shifted his pack onto his other shoulder, holding it with his left so he could rub his face with his right. He started his pace again, resentment in his heart for his brain thinking in such cruel ways.

‘Okay, if it isn’t there, surely there will be some driftwood or maybe some greenery near the edge. This entire place can’t be full of desert and rocks. If I pass an oasis, I’ll take a refreshing bath and try to harvest some wood. I could build a pallet and drag it. It’d slow me down, but I’d be able to start a fire and maybe a ship would see the fire.’

Thorne gave a derisive snort. ‘Though, if they see a fire from some exiled lands, they’ll think I’m just someone with a scheme. No chance any naval guard would approach. Unless it was an S.O.S. But I don’t know how to signal that in this bloody language. It could be all hooves and tail swishes for all I know! Gods! Damn! It!’

He gave his forehead a swift slap with his palm. ‘No, come on damn it! Genius brain! Let’s go! Think, think, think… Could set up some rocks where I make landing on the beach to mark where I am, then carry some more and go up and down the beach. Surely… two clicks in either direction? That should be more than enough! Hell, the beach might not even be that big!’

That train of thought skidded to a stop so roughly that it jumped the tracks. ‘Oh fuck, how big is this beach? Okay, don’t panic. We just keep going east. Long as we’re heading toward the rising sun, we’ll get there. We’ll find what we need.’

He nodded at himself. ‘Just keep going east. Endure and adapt.’

It was already noon again and Thorne was running on fumes. He had been going since just after moon rise. He had jogged most of the way. He could feel his muscles straining in the heat that now rose to claim the desert. He was happy to be out of pure sand, but the rocks and canyons didn’t do him any better. Now he was just weary of any animal that might come and claim him.

But he hadn’t seen any animal. Not even a reptile of some type. This surprised him, seeing as they had been abundant in the desert. Granted, they hid from humans unless they were aggressive or territorial--or both--and they happened to only tan on rocks for warmth before vanishing. He kept telling himself he had no frame of reference for this world and that everything was alien, but it felt supernatural.

Though he didn’t discount his blessing. So long as nothing venomous got him, or something large enough to eat him whole, before he got weapons and armor, he would continue to thank providence.

Now it was a matter of finding a hole to crawl in for a short rest. He needed to get out of the elements. His body was in revolt. His skin was starting to blister in places and his feet had suffered abuse like never before. He could feel the cracks and splits that were forming and each step brought a slight rush of pain. He knew it was a matter of time before each step was laced with blood.

Another thing he was trying to fight off was delirium. Lack of food and water had their complications. He had his rations, of course, but he wasn’t about to stuff his face. He needed enough to survive, and enough to get to this mysterious new land. From there, the mission began. He could starve himself little by little, adjust his body to it. Then he would gradually go back to full meals. He had learned in his youth that one doesn’t just go from starving to eating a full meal. He had lost that meal as quickly as he had eaten it.

Thorne was thankful for the lack of mirages. He assumed he was too mentally fortified for that, but he had seen what trained specialists in the desert heat could see and run toward. He prided himself on focus and was too egotistical to let go. He was a force of sheer will in his own mind. A part of his brain chalked it up to magic. A part of his brain told him that magic would be the reason he fell for such tricks.

‘Fucking magic. I want to love you, I do, but you’re going to be a dick… Speaking of…’

He tugged at his poncho, looking at the mark that was over his heart. It had faded completely, but he could feel it there. ‘A year before I die, huh? So much to do, so much to see. I wonder if I could rebuild Black Roses? Maybe turn it into a true thieves guild!’ He sounded mentally giddy at that. ‘I know that bastard is just going to kill me once the job is done. If I had a dollar for every time an employer wanted to ‘tie up loose ends’, I’d be a very rich man. Maybe I can make enough money to bribe some powerful mage to get it off me. Maybe my death will be explosive! That sounds hilarious!’

Thorne reached up and caressed the Chaos Star under the cloth. He let a hollow sigh. ‘Okay maybe not that hilarious. Sounds dark and depressing. But fuck you brain, we’re not allowed to be dark and depressed right now. We have a lot to do.’

His thoughts were interrupted as he spied another, smaller, and nowhere near as protected, hole. It was more akin to an indent in the side of a small plateau that he had been following along on his trip east. It offered little, but at least he didn’t have to check it for beasts. After a quick glossary glance around, he settled into it and raised his poncho up to shield himself from the sun. Again he took some of his food and water before shutting his eyes in an attempt to force a nap.

It took several minutes, but a light slumber took him.

The sound of growling made him tense. ‘Shit!’ He thought to himself. It was right next to his face. His mind hit the proverbial edge. The nap and exertion had dulled his senses, but he was alert enough to know he was in danger and the danger was far too close for him to react.

‘How did you get so close?! Fuck! Okay. Calm. Breathe. No sudden moves.’

Thorne took a slow breath and looked up slowly, opening his eyes. The growling slowly faded off.

Before him stood a swirling mass of sand and stone. It seemed to flow like it was in an hourglass, but it went along set lines. The form it took was that of a coyote--or at least what looked like one. Glowing yellow eyes and what looked like jagged rocks for teeth. Yet the entire creature was shifting as it stood still, staring at the human in contemplation.

“Good… sand creature… No need to think of me as a meal…” he said aloud, licking his lips to wet them.

Several others entered his vision, as if manifesting out of the wind itself. Their bodies materialized, pulling stones and sand into their form. They approached, but made no sounds. The one before him, however, growled at the trepidation in Thorne’s voice.

Thorne only growled back and shifted, unmaking that defensive curl he had.

The alpha's growl ceased. It even backed away from him, as did the others. Thorne seized the opportunity to spring to his feet. They made no moves to pin him like prey. Instead, they formed a small band before him, each standing side by side, yellow eyes staring into his golden. In total, they numbered at seven. He was outnumbered and they were magic. He knew he stood no chance. And as that thought formed in his head, they all started to growl in unison.

Thorne’s mind immediately went to offense as his hidden blade snapped from his prosthetic. He snarled at the group like a beast himself, his actions demanding respect. To his surprise, that respect was met. They ceased their complaints. This made him cease his.

The quiet that followed was palpable. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears, but he was doing his best to keep the adrenaline in check.

“Can you understand me?” He questioned. ‘It was worth a shot, right?’

The alpha of the group simply flicked its ears and blinked at the human.

“Maybe you don’t understand, but you know intent…” Thorne said with a soft smile gracing his lips. He would make a slow movement, bringing his left behind his back and his right to his heart. He gave a short and steady bow. “The hunter respects his fellow hunters. But I will not be prey this day.” He said as he rose back up, his smile fading. It was replaced with the gaze of a soldier ready to fight.

The sand coyotes seemed to tilt their heads and then recoiled at the gaze from the human as they went from confused to understanding. They, to his surprise, then all lowered their heads as if to bow. It was as swift and steady as his, and once their eyes met again, the alpha let a bark.

It echoed against the rocks and rumbled with the force of the earth itself. It didn’t feel like a threat, but a command. One that was swiftly obeyed as the pack all began to turn their back and walk away as the alpha lingered. After a moment, it would turn and dash off away from Thorne, leaving him standing there.

His tension left his body and he fell to his knees. ‘Okay. The animals can… sense me? Understand my intentions or words? Why am I alive…?’ Thorne quickly got back to his feet and grabbed his pack. He looked about. No other signs of any animals were about. ‘Not even vultures in the desert. Were those coyotes tracking me?’

He got himself dusted off and stretched, adjusting his cloth covering and pack on his shoulder until he was ready to set off. It was another hour before dusk claimed the day before turning into night. By his calculations, he had another night of full moon light before the phases shifted to wink out his nightly travels. He knew he should be getting close to that ship and then he could sail by daylight. He was a full day ahead of his Master’s predictions.

He took off again, a brisk walk. He didn’t want to risk a jog or a run, not with how his feet still ached. His mind went back to the chance encounter. ‘Is it something to do with this mark…? Is it protecting me? Fucking magic. Or maybe the animals in this world are highly intelligent? I guess it makes sense. Ponies for god’s sake! But that must mean they have intelligent dogs or something, right? Begs the question, if the lesser races of creatures react that way to me, how will the ponies react? Fear? Apprehension? And will they know that it’s because of some curse mark? If it is that… Maybe it’s some natural instinct. They’d need something like that in order to reach the top of the food chain. This is how we humans got there.’

Thorne sighed. “More questions and no real answers. I’m going to need a journal at this rate. And I’ve not even hit the mainland yet. Fuck.”

The gentle sounds of waves crashing against sandy shores were a bittersweet melody. He could smell the salt in the air, though that gave him no pleasure. He had hoped this world would be vastly different and it was all fresh water, but his mind told him ‘hope in one hand, shit in the other, and see which fills faster’.

He thanked Satan, God & Jesus, Buddha, Allah, Universal Karma, Odin, and whatever else heathen god he could that the boat he was looking for was actually right in front of him. That thanks, however, turned into vitriol the moment he inspected it and saw that it was literally a raft with a paddle. He wasn’t much for religion, but now he was feeling that the universe was just playing with him. Sure, he had dabbled in the occult, and that could be seen as ‘Satanic’, but he never took it so far as to sacrifice a goat or something.

It was beginning to get dawn now and he would have light. He had made it far ahead of schedule, but he thanked his tireless perseverance for that fact. Though his body screamed at him. ‘Can rest when you’re dead, Thorne,’ he kept telling himself. He knew he would be dead if his body decided to shut down on him, however. He was already on borrowed time and he kept accumulating a debt.

“Two days at sea. I might be able to cut that down to one day if I don’t throw my body out while working the paddle. No idea where I’ll make landfall and if the seas turn rough, then I’m probably screwed. But the weather has been pleasant enough, so maybe I won’t end up in a storm.” He said aloud, inspecting his ride.

‘Let’s just not tempt fate, shall we? Saying things like that is how shit happens.’

His gaze went up and down the beach and then out to the sea. His raft looked solid and well kept, but he would inspect the wood further. It held several logs that had been strewn together to make a base for a centaur the size of his Master, lending credence that perhaps he had used it to get out and go into the ocean on several treks.

That thought then led him to believe there had to be some kind of blockade. If he could get off the island, why was his Master stuck there? Then that brought the question of why the asshole lived so far from the shore. Again Thorne had several questions that weren’t likely to be answered with him standing around. He took solace in the fact he would be using his arms instead of his legs and he had a place to sit both himself and his pack. It wasn’t heavy--far lighter than the gear he was used to carrying, but to be relieved of it was something to take joy in.

Thorne sat his pack on the raft. After his inspection, he gripped the edges and pushed it out to sea. The waves fought against him as he trudged into the shallows, pushing his wooden lifeboat as hard as he could to fight the current that threatened to push it back into the sandy beachhead. Once it was deep enough, the currents began to suction them both back, bidding them entrance into the sea. With a swift motion, the human bounded up into the saddle of his ride and grabbed at the paddle.

He was worn and exhausted, but it wouldn’t stop him. He at least needed to hit calmer, deeper waters before he could really relax. With heavy grunts, the man exerted his willpower over his craft, swiftly swinging the paddle from one side to the other, digging it deep into the water. Each stroke sent ripples through the waves as well as his body. It took every fiber of his being to steer and direct the thing, but it became easier with each motion.

Salty ocean spray mixed with the lines of sweat that had accumulated on his body. It would have been refreshing if he weren’t on a timetable. He still had his poncho to protect him from the majority of the wet splashes, but he was swiftly becoming a soaked rat. Thorne still relished the feeling of being on the water, meaning his journey was entering the last leg. He enjoyed the sensation so much he actually burst into song. It was an old song that he enjoyed annoying other sailors with, but he found it oddly comforting as he went deeper into the blue beyond.

He belted it out with a cheerful smile. It was actually the first earnest smile he had since coming to this new strange land. On the horizon he could see clouds in the sky. It was the first clouds he had seen as well.

It was a promise of better things to come.

Author's Note

If you're wonder what song Thorne is belting out, it's "In The Navy" - The Village People.

7. Masks

Thorne had slipped into a relative light nap as he floated along. He was at the mercy of the waves, but he had his heading. He assumed it didn’t matter where he landed, so long as he made landfall. He needed to get a graphical lay of the world. Maybe even the name of the world. Though those were a medium priority in the face of what was likely a blockade vessel that was patrolling the waters.

A thought had occurred to him that he’d need to get something to prevent unicorn scrying. He figured that was how they had found him. That or there was some magical barrier that he passed through. If it was a barrier, he didn’t feel as though he had passed through anything. He began to question if all magic of this realm could be felt. This brought him deeper into the questioning of how it all worked and if unicorn scrying could even be detected. It ended with him debating himself if such a thing actually worked or existed.

He knew his mind was starting to wear itself ragged. In truth, he was excited that those flares went up. He’d hopefully get some companionship--at least maybe some conversation. Even if it was him being interrogated. Thorne was no stranger to such a thing and fully expected it to happen. What armed force wouldn’t shackle him and throw him in a brig once they found him? He was an alien in a strange land. He started wondering if it’d be a miracle that he wouldn’t be tied to a weight and tossed overboard. He was sure he could take short ponies, but magic was the grand equalizer.

He rose up from his relaxing sun-basking and rolled his shoulders. His hands grabbed the shaft of the paddle and he resumed his arduous task of rowing. ‘Should I play the part of “distraught and helpless human”? Or perhaps go straight in and declare I am a Lord lost in a world without hope of return?’

Thorne gave a chortle to himself. ‘Anything I do will be under intense scrutiny. I won’t be able to influence the ship. And I doubt they’ll take me to shore. They might just throw me back into that wasteland. If they give me a hint that they’re their plan, then I’ll need to take hostages. And I’ll need to outwit that magic. I wonder, if I break a horn from a unicorn, does it cease their magic?’

Thorne smirked. “I do love a good trophy…”

“Oh fuck they have wings.” Thorne said to himself as he spied the ship closing the distance. He had stood up in his raft and squinted to see the ship. He took notice of the equine shapes that buzzed around the ship like small fighter jets. All of them looked armored and were carrying spears. It was just light enough to see the glimmer of metal as the night was claiming the day.

“Oh fuck! They have wings! Pegasuses! Er… Pegasi. That’s right, isn’t it? Wait! Shit! Shit, shit, shit! Wings!” He shouted at himself, swearing up a storm. He swiftly looked himself over and his limited supplies. He looked at his arm.

‘How the fuck do I fight winged fucking ponies?! Especially ones that can have magic as a back up!? Okay. It’s okay. Deep breath, Thorne.’ The man inhaled deeply as he took his poncho off and wrapped it around his hips. ‘First thing, cover the nudity. Look presentable. Second, hands up. No sudden moves… That’s right. Calm yourself. Not like they have wings and horns, right? That’d be a nightmare to fight. Just wings. Just pegasi and then the unicorns.’

He felt his heartbeat steadying itself. He looked toward the boat as it was still several hundred meters. But the pegasi were starting to buzz him. He raised his hands up into the air, issuing his surrender. Several of the flying ponies surrounded him, their spears pointed directly at him. They had him encircled and made ready as the ship came to a halt in the distance.

A voice from the deck called out. It was magically amplified--or they had megaphones. Thorne couldn’t tell.

“You are about to be brought aboard The Deep Blue under the command of Captain Crushing Depths. You are to be shackled upon boarding. Do not attempt to resist as we commandeer your vessel.”

Thorne looked to the pegasi and then back to the ship. Two of the pegasi of pure cobalt blue threw several ropes around the lightweight raft and secured them in place as their brothers and sisters in arms held Thorne hostage. Moments later the man nearly fell on his ass as his wooden raft was pulled forward in the calm waters at a moderate speed. The guards that had him at spear-length all fell away, taking up escort positions. They were no longer directly threatening him with the pointy-ends, but he knew better than to make any sudden moves less he found out what the metal was that made up the spears.

It took a few minutes for them to come up on the starboard side of The Deep Blue. The raft made contact with the wooden frame of the sloop with a gentle thump. The ropes from the two pullers went and tied around the side of the ship, securing one vessel to another. The raft was now at the mercy of the larger ship.

Thorne, however, was now at the mercy of ponies. “We’ll levitate you up. Don’t panic. You can understand me, right?” A male voice called out. A rust colored unicorn peered over the edge with a questioning gaze.

“Yeah, I can understand you. Can you understand me?”

There were a few murmurs of surprise and several nods. Then gravity got weird. Thorne found himself slipping free of the binds of the universal force. He could feel it wanting to tug him back down into the universal static, but a blob of color was wrapping itself around him. It startled him with how strong it felt, but it answered several questions as his form went gently setting on the deck.

‘So unicorns can work together to combine their magic. And their magic can influence quite a lot. And several working together can be felt--a strong feeling of warmth.’

The rust-colored unicorn stepped forward and inspected their catch. “Hands together or we’ll force them.” Thorne complied. “My name is Rusty Anchor, second in command of The Deep Blue under Captain Crushing Depths. You are being detained for questioning and examination. Do you understand?”

“Crystal clear, first officer Rusty Anchor.” Thorne responded in a casual tone. He found a pair of iron shackles going around his wrists. ‘Rusty Anchor. What the fuck kind of name is that. Sounds lewd, almost.’

“You look like you need medical aid and rest. As such, you will be given these after a bit of questioning,” Rusty stated as he stepped away. “Captain on deck!” He called out as an amber colored stallion stepped forward. All stood at attention at the call.

“First Officer Anchor, please make the ship ready to leave. We’ll be heading back to Vanhoover. Send a flier ahead to let the port know why we’re returning.” Captain Depths responded.

“Sir, yes sir!” Rusty responded. “Move out, everypony! Make ready!” He shouted as he saluted the captain and turned away, heading to take command of the ship. It left Thorne and the captain in the middle of the deck.

“Alright, alien. Who are you? What are you? I want answers before we give you any assistance. And a reason not to belay my order and go dump you back in that wasteland.” Captain Depths said with a tone that was telling of his experience of naval command.

‘Oh ho. Well then. I know what mask to put on for this.’

The human smiled softly. It was a kind and gentle smile, one worn by someone who wasn’t a snake. But Thorne was a snake. But he had the ability to fool even the most practiced politicians with this award-winning smile. “Oh thank goodness I encountered some friendly creatures! I am Lord Thorne and I have no idea how I got here. I found myself waking up in a cavern. I took what I could find and have been traversing that dreadful wasteland for days. When I finally came to the beach, I saw that raft and took my chances!”

The captain raised an eyebrow. “Lord? You’re a noble?”

“I was. I doubt it means much here… Tell me! Please! Where am I? Inside of that cavern, I found paintings and tapestries of strange creatures. Nothing like you all, but to me you all fall under that category as well. No offense.” Thorne continued.

“Hrm. None taken, though you’re just as strange. Some type of hairless ape almost. You’ve no hooves to speak of, so clearly not of a lineage of minotaurs. You don’t know where you are?”

Thorne shook his head.

“Unluckily, you ended up in the Forbidden Lands. A wasteland full of monsters and exiles. Did you encounter any in your escape from that cave?” The captain’s eyes scrutinized the rag that was passing as a kilt around Thorne’s waist.

“No, Captain Crushing Depths.” Thorne replied.

“Just Captain works,” the captain stated quickly. “It can be a mouthful of a name. So. Lord Thorne--”

“Just Thorne, please.” The human smiled gracefully after interrupting.

“Of course. Thorne. I hope you understand why we need to keep you under surveillance and arrest. But come with me. We’ll get you treated for those burns and blisters. Maybe get you something other than a dirty rug to wear.”

“I would enjoy that very much, thank you, Captain. And I understand perfectly. I was a military man myself.”

The captain let a chuckle as he turned and began to escort Thorne back down into the belly of the small ship. “A noble and a service member? Rare. Only hear about such things from the pegasi.”

Thorne gave a light hum in acknowledgement. “It wasn’t common back where I’m from either. Then again, we didn’t have pegasi nor unicorns. You look familiar, though, Captain. We had a creature like you that wasn’t in folktales. Are you just… a pony? No offense meant, of course.”

The captain turned his head as they entered into the lower deck. “None taken. It must be strange. You sound like you’re from another world. But yes, I am an earth pony. Unlike my compatriots of unicorns who channel magic, nor the pegasi who can fly and control the weather, I have the strength of the very earth in my veins. Stronger and more stubborn, I suppose.” He gave a soft chortle.

'Pegasi can control the weather?' “Huh. Well I suppose I am in another world then. My planet was called Earth.”

“Sounds like my kind of place. We’re on Equus. And we’ll be heading toward Equestria. Specifically, Vanhoover. So what are you, Thorne?” The captain questioned, leading him into a small corner of the lower deck. There was a large red cross painted on the wall next to it and a single bed. “And here we are. Good evening doc,” the captain casually remarked as they entered into the secluded area.

A unicorn mare was managing a few vials and gauze with her pink magic. She shook her flank back and forth as she was distracted by her humming and work. She herself was a cream color of white with a bouncy pink and red mane. Thorne noticed something glaring as he stared at her flank. She had some strange tattoo. It was a white cross layered on top of a droplet of blood.

The captain cleared his throat. “Doctor.”

Thorne took the chance to peek down at the captain while the mare was startled, wondering if he had some similar marking. To his surprise, it was different. His was a whirlpool that spawned from an inky abyss. It took a good portion of his flank up.

“Oh! Sorry, sorry!” The mare responded in a thick accent that made Thorne raise an eyebrow. ‘Sounds Canadian.’ “How can I help...you… Oh my.”

Stunned silence followed as she stared at the bipedal creature that stood next to the captain. Her cream coat would have gone pale sickly white with the terror that flushed through the poor mare. Thorne could see the panic rising in those adorable pink eyes that matched her mane. He stared at her with his golden orbs, appraising her.

‘Will you run, oh good doctor? Or see the hurt victim before you?’

The mare seemed to take a step back, those massive eyes scanning the form. She noticed the old scars and wounds, then the more recent ones--burns from the sun, along with blisters. Several scrapes and cuts from wandering the wilds. His ape-like feet were almost bleeding. The stallion before her looked soaked to the brim with sea-water as well. But her eyes kept coming back to his.

“Like a thestral…” she uttered.

“Doctor!” The captain reprimanded. Thorne didn’t know what for.

“Huh?! Oh! Sorry… you… you… Hrm.” She shook herself, trying to brace her mind against what she was seeing. “Sorry, your eyes are so striking. And a silver mane!”

“A thestral? Really?” The captain deadpanned before gazing up to his shackled prison. He squinted at the tiny eyes that resided in that face. “Barely has a mane to begin with, but yeah those eyes are rather colorful. Though, not unheard of as far as a color in ponykind…”

The mare shook her head. “No, it was just... I don’t know, it was like I was looking at a predator!”

Thorne smirked at that. “I might be,” he said with a sing-song voice, teasing the poor soul.

The captain chuckled. “You might look odd, but you seem rather genuine. You’re not a monster.”

‘You’re rather trusting, dear captain. Too bad that humanity is nothing but monsters. If you were smart, you would have killed me thrice over by now.’

“Not that I’m calling the thestrals monsters, of course. But you lack the cat-like eyes they have. If you had those, then maybe there would be some credence to Doctor Cheer Heart apprehensions.”

‘Cat-like eyes, hmm? Interesting. Sounds exotic. Almost enticing, even.’

“Hmm. Doctor Cheer Heart. A pleasure to meet you. I am Thorne. I’d give you and the captain a customary bow, but I am afraid I can’t use my arms at the moment,” he said, bringing the shackles to their attention. “If I may be so bold and do forgive me for my wandering eye, but I just noticed something. You two have interesting tattoos upon your flanks. Is that some kind of custom in Equestria?”

The fear and apprehension faded from the doctor’s face as she went over and began to examine Thorne with a more thorough eye. “You mean our cutie marks?” She trotted around him as he raised an eyebrow out of view.

“Cutie marks?”

“Wow… Captain, please look at his back! His mark is massive!” The doctor said in an astonished gasp.

There was simply more confusion from Thorne.

The captain turned and peered at their captive’s back. There in colorful ink was displayed the mark of the Black Roses, though no text gave any signifier to what it meant. A shield background, one that was steel in color, the outer edges appearing to be riveted and raised. The shield itself had the design of several human skulls imprisoned upon it--the design showing they had been beaten rigidly into the metal for decoration. On the foreground was a downward pointed dagger that was wrapped in a black rose. The hilt of the dagger formed a T across the shield. The bloom of the flower rested at the butt of the grip, it opened and proudly displayed to the world. It looked as though a few droplets of rain water had blessed the plucked-from-the-bush flower. The green and thorn-filled stem wrapped around the knife until the end tapered near the tip of the blade. From the blade tip, a large drop of red blood formed into a perfect droplet, ready to be released should the tattoo come alive.

“My word…” the captain remarked. “What does this signify, Thorne?”

“It’s a tattoo. One to show pride in my Black Roses,” he admitted before he gave it thought. He immediately had the afterthought of ‘Shit!’.

“Black Roses?”

“The military company I served with!” He said hastily, trying to keep the mask from failing. “In fact, I led them. As I said, it was my noble duty to lead and command.”

“A noble?” Doctor Heart said as she slowly came back to his front. “And served? I suppose that explains all these scars… But what is a tattoo?”

Thorne smiled softly, his mask returning. “To answer the captain first, I am a human. That is what my species calls itself. And a tattoo is a… a painting. Except one that is, albeit painfully, etched into the skin. My people used small needles dipped in ink to pierce our skin and paint beautiful murals on their body as a sign of respect.”

‘Or to put grotesque and disrespectful images on themselves,’ he thought callously.

“Is it really so different from those ‘cutie marks’?” He asked, motioning again toward their flanks. They both scoffed.

“Entirely different. These appear when we find our purpose in life. Or find what makes us special. Or helps explain a certain talent we have. It’s a magical connection telling of who we are, what we do, and what we can aspire to get better at.” The doctor remarked as she went to her cabinet in order to fetch some gauze, bandages, cream, and two pills. Next came her getting a cup of water. She worked amazingly fast with her horn, giving away a practiced pace. “First things first, we need to get you bathed. Need to clean you properly and get you out of that rug. Then we need to dress those wounds. Have you eaten anything recently, Thorne?” She asked.

‘Cutie marks. Another magical thing on this mud ball. Intriguing…’

He responded simply and truthfully. “Yes, I ate. Not much, but I have something on my stomach.”

“Good,” she was quick in reply as she floated the cup and two pills to him. “Take these.”

‘Damn, she slipped right into professional doctor mode rather quickly.’

Thorne maneuvered his hands to grip the pills and the water. He tossed the pills back and slung back the drink like a shot. He set the metal cup on the small shelf she was working with before looking about. “So, a cleaning, huh?”

“Mhm. Drop your rug, will you? And captain, you can leave him with me. I’ll take care of him.” Doctor Heart said as she scribbled a few things down into what looked like a new medical report.

Thorne looked to the captain with a raised eyebrow. Captain Depths sighed. “I’ll be sending two guards down here to keep an eye on you and to help out.” That merely got a ‘mhm’ from the distracted doctor. With that, the captain shoved off.

Thorne shrugged and reached down, undoing the shawl that had protected him, letting it drop to his ankles. The mare turned only to pause and let the pen and clipboard she was holding drop from her magical grasp as bore witnessed to undraped splendor.

Thorne merely smirked at the reaction. ‘So much for professional doctor mode.’

8. Interrogation

Thorne was treated to what amounted to a sponge bath in order to clean his filthy body. It wasn’t what he wanted, but definitely felt it needed. He was sure to thank the doctor after she got over her blushing fit and handed him a towel to cover himself. He got a rather varied amount of creams applied to his burns and a helping of antiseptic and bandages applied to his cuts and scrapes. Doctor Heart managed to basically give his feet a rudimentary coating of gauze and bandages, turning the medical aid into makeshift socks. He appreciated that deeply, though he made the comment of having trouble keeping his feet dry if he went above deck.

That comment was shut down by the two guards that had taken up near the aid station. He had tried on several attempts to corral the pair of stallions in speaking more, but they weren’t having any of it. He was simply told to shut up and wait for the captain to return to interrogate him and he was lucky he wasn’t behind bars. Comments that got a few choice words out of Thorne for how rude they were. He got the doctor on his side on that front, though every time she looked into the man’s eyes, she seemed apprehensive of him.

He couldn’t blame her. He chalked it up to that natural sense he had discussed with himself earlier. ‘Perhaps they just know a predator when they see one,’ he reminded his mind with a sly shit-eating grin.

Thorne had managed to take up the only bed the doctor had down below deck, but was thankful to be inside of something that wasn’t made from rocks--a fact that he told the good doctor, which got another sympathetic smile from her. He admitted, internally, that her bedside manner was to be applauded. Even if she was a bit easily manipulated much like the captain. He had a record of fooling even the most practiced statesmen and officials, but they at least gave pushback. He chalked that up to humans being humans, however.

He found himself nearly dozing as the captain approached. He heard the familiar rattle of armor shifting as the guards saluted. He lazily peered over to the side and gave that soft smile to the captain.

“I’m amazed you’re not asleep, Thorne,” he casually remarked. “But it’s good that you aren’t. It’s time to finish that line of questioning.”

“Interrogate away, Captain Depths,” Thorne said with a gentle expression. The captain simply nodded and pulled a nearby stool close. The doctor looked between the two and sighed, excusing herself. The guards backed away as well.

“So, Lord Thorne. I know you said your name is Thorne, and you’ll likely be called that, but this is a proper questioning so titles are a must. If you were a noble of your world, then you deserve a bit of respect. I don’t fully believe it, but all you have is your word at the moment. And we try to give ponies the benefit of the doubt.”

“An admirable thing, captain. My people did the same.” Thorne replied. ‘With often terrible results.’ His inner voice tittered.

“Alright, first question, Lord Thorne: What force brought you here? Do you know?”

“No idea, captain. I awoke here. I was sleeping in my bed and suddenly I was here. I had a terrible nightmare and when I shot awake, it seemed the nightmare was real.”

“Describe it.”

“I was lying in a cavern in a desert wasteland. I didn’t think too much of it--we have such things in my world. I served a tour of duty in a desert not unlike that one. But I was naked. No weapons, no clothing, nothing but my wits to survive. Imagine my surprise when I awoke to find it true.” Thorne lied through his teeth. “Though I do remember feeling this… fire all around me. Something pulling me to that cavern. It was as if I fell through some sort of portal of someone’s making.”

“But you didn’t meet anyone or see anyone?”

“Not a soul! I was in someone’s hovel, clearly. I ransacked the place out of survival instinct and ran with my life like a thief in the night.”

“Hmm. Suppose I can’t blame you for that. Don’t go making that a habit, however.”

‘You’ve no idea.’

“I’ll try not to, captain,” Thorne playfully chuckled.

“So that marking on your back. That ‘tattoo’. You said it was something called ‘Black Roses’?”

Thorne actually gave an earnest smirk. “My Black Roses, yes. I led a… It sounds awful to say, but they were more-or-less a mercenary group. We came from all walks of life. A lot of us had served our respected nations for a long time only to be burned in some way. That’s where the name came from. We all felt betrayed and left for dead, so we denoted ourselves with a black rose, to show us mourning our deaths and subsequent rebirths. Rather morbid as I think back on it, but humanity always enjoys such symbolism.”

“Rather ominous and deep,” the captain said with wide eyes. “But shouldn’t be ashamed of being a mercenary. Plenty of mercenaries come and go around Equestria, though they aren’t as common as they are in places like where we’re heading. You’d probably find great work outside of Ponyville or the winter wastes surrounding Yakyakistan and the Crystal Empire.”

“Oh? May I ask why?”

“Hmm. Well Ponyville has the Everfree forest--a forest that is untamed and magical. Lots of monsters like to hide within it. The frozen wastes around the Crystal Empire have always been home to several dangerous animals that sometimes wander too close for comforts. Could get good bounties.” The captain replied with a hoof tapping his chin. He took the hoof up further and gripped his pipe, pulling it from his lips and tipping it over, dumping the burnt ash. “Probably looks odd that I have this in my mouth and not smoke it.”

“No, no, you’re fine. It brings me hope that your people have cigars and whiskey. And I understand the oral fixation. Brings a comfort.”

“You’ve no idea. But yes, we do have cigars and whiskey. Comforts of home, huh?” The captain chortled as he took out a tin from his pocket. He began the process of stuffing tobacco into his pipe and striking a match to light it. “Take it you’ve no qualms with me smoking, then.”

“None at all, captain.” Thorne turned his head away and lay back in the bed, shutting his eyes. “We’ve gotten off track, however. What else?”

“Right. That necklace.”

‘Oh fuck.’

“A rather funny looking moon carving. And something that looks like a star. What do they mean?” The captain raised a quizzical eyebrow.

‘Thank fuck!’

“Both are little symbols from my world. The moon is something called ‘The Crooked Moon’. It actually ties back to a little table-top game I played with friends.” Thorne spoke with a red face, hiding the truth behind the symbol. Even if using something from his world as a cover story, it still had a kernel of truth to it. And those were the best lies. It did remind him a lot of a rather in-depth game he played with friends.

“Oh? Anything like Ogres and Oubliettes?” The captain queried.

“That sounds a lot like Dungeons and Dragons of my world…” Thorne said, his face betraying an actual shocking revelation. “It’s not tied to it; a different game, actually, but… I’m curious, now.”

“Well the only table-top I know of is O-and-O. My little colt loves the game,” The captain said with a bit of pride. “In fact, I enjoy the time I get to play with him. Took a while to understand it, but I did eventually.”

“You sound like a proud parent. And a rather good father at that…” there was a twinge of sadness in Thorne’s voice. “I hope your… colt… cherishes you for years to come.”

Thorne actually looked away and then gave a soft chuckle. “Colts and fillies. That’s right. It’s still sinking in that I’m in another world. Stallions and mares. I believe you used the term ‘ponykind’. And I heard the good doctor mention ‘everypony’. The terminology is going to take some time to get used to.”

The man turned back and sighed. “Anyway. Sentiments aside, yes. ‘Crooked Moon’ is what one means. The second is an alchemical symbol in my world. It has ties to the occult--magic. It’s known as the ‘Chaos Star’.”

The captain immediately rose to his hooves, shoving the stool over. “Chaos Star?” he said with a concerned tone and a stoic face.

‘Uh oh. Something is off…’

“What do you know about chaos, Thorne? Do you know of Discord?” The captain asked, pressing closer to the human.

“Uh... “ he stalled. “I know what discord means in terms of definition… And I know that it is a force of the universe. But the universe is chaos. Or at least, it seems that way to me.”

The captain squinted. “Do. You. Know. The Draconequus. Discord?” An accusing hoof began prodding at Thorne’s chest. “I will not have one of his pranks roaming around Equestria unchecked. Even if he is quote-unquote reformed!”

“The fuck is a Draconequus?” Thorne’s earnest tone came out, the mask crumbling for a moment. “Er. Pardon my swearing.” He grumbled and cleared his throat.

The captain blinked. “‘Fuck’. Sounds like ‘buck’.”

“Wait, you lot say ‘buck’?” The human said in disbelief. “That’s… actually adorable. Wait! If someone were to jump onto your back, wouldn’t you need to buck them off? Or is it one of those swears that changes depending on context?”

The captain coughed. It was his turn to clear his throat. “Yes, context.”

‘Neat! Bucking can’t wait to swear in pony language. I love new swears.’ Thorne thought in almost child-like wonder.

“Back to the matter at hoof,” the captain continued. “You know the concept of discord and chaos, but not the literal incarnation of it?”

‘Ha, ‘matter at hoof’. Wait, what? Oh fuck, right!’ Thorne shrugged, coming from his mental amusement. “Not at all. You’re speaking about him like he’s some kind of god-like being.”

“He is.” The captain deadpanned. “Supposedly he’s up there with Princess Celestia and Princess Luna.”

‘Ah I have names. Okay, let’s reverse this interrogation.’

“Who?”

“Right, you don’t know them. The rulers of our nation. Along with them, Princess Cadence and her husband, Prince Shining Armor, and Princess Twilight Sparkle.” The captain spoke the words like a proud citizen.

‘No one knows OPSEC here and it shows. That or they’re very, very, trusting. Like stupidly so.’

“I… see…” Thorne feigned a bit of ignorance. He didn’t know their names, but he knew that there were four Princesses. Four targets. “That’s a lot to take in.”

“I’d tell you more, but surely you understand,” the captain said in a sudden grim shift in tone, as if understanding he let sensitive leak to a foreigner. “We’re not exactly sure where you stand.”

Thorne simply gave him a pleasant but fake smile. “I understand. I’m an outsider. I wouldn’t trust me either.”

‘I suppose that works for now.’

“Are we done here, captain? I’m rather tired. I’d like to get some shut-eye.” Thorne yawned, hamming it up for effect.

The captain nodded. He turned and fixed the stool he had knocked over. “I suppose we’re done for now. We’ll be pulling into port by late afternoon tomorrow. Hope you don’t mind wearing a towel for a while.”

Thorne chuckled. “It’s fine. I understand. I take it I’ll be transferred to a jail cell for further questioning?”

The captain began to trot off. “That’s the gist of it. At least for another day or so. You’ll need to undergo a magical scan to assess your health, biology, and mental wellbeing.”

A lump formed in the man’s throat. ‘Magical scan?!’ “That…” he swallowed, “That sounds rather invasive… But I understand.” He tried to sound cordial and understanding. His mind was racing with panic.

“Mm. Well have a good night, Lord Thorne.”

“You too, Captain Depths.”

‘I’m screwed.’ Thorne thought to himself as he laid back into the bed. He found the pull of sleep taking him. He wanted to ignore it. He wanted to fight through it and think of ways to avoid such a thing. He would be damned if his journey ended due to them scanning him and finding out what the truth was!

But no matter how hard he tried to keep awake in order to plan, a rejuvenating slumber found him.

9. Landfall

Thorne felt warmth radiate through his body. It was primarily located near his feet, but it washed throughout him like gentle flowing waves. It slowly dawned on him that he was in a bed and the waves he felt were likely the too-and-fro of the ship rocking. When those golden eyes actually opened, he noticed Doctor Cheer Heart at the foot of the bed, her horn aglow as she focused intently on his un-bandaged appendages.

The immediate reaction of the man was severe. He recoiled away and gave her a worried look. The doctor was quick on the uptake and simply gave him a smile. “It’s okay, dear. Just a simple cantrip to heal some of those wounds,” she said in that accent of hers. It was enough to make him relax.

“Sorry,” Thorne commented, his gaze flowing over her horn and then away.

'Magic cast from anyone seems to have some warmth. Noted. Maybe it depends on intent. Felt nice, though.'

“A distrust of magic, hmm?” She asked, her horn lighting up again to continue the work.

‘That probably looks suspicious.’

“It’s not that I don’t trust it, it’s just… surprising, is all. I come from a world where it’s myth and legends, and yet, here it is. And being used by beings we thought were even more far-fetched: unicorns.” Thorne responded. He had his eyes on a very interesting plank just outside the non-existent doorway to the aid station. He let a deep sigh. “Instead of magic, my people use tools to accomplish many great feats. And a part of my mind tells me that magic in this world is just as potent as some of the tools we used. A spell to stop a heart. A spell to enthrall. A spell to rob you of your senses and leave you to die.”

The doctor looked up from her work, her face aghast. “Your world sounds violent! And you say they don’t have magic?” She watched Thorne shake his head. “What has happened to you to put you on such a defensive…?” She questioned.

'If only you knew,' his mind said sorrowfully.

“It is just in our nature to be wary when everyone and everything is against you,” he stated flatly, his eyes going back to hers. He saw the flame of sympathy ignite within her pupils. He gave a soft smile as he saw her nod and go back to healing him.

‘Easily dodged.’ He thought.

“Well this world certainly won’t be against you. You may look different--even a bit scary--but once we’re back in the mainland and the air is cleared, I’m sure you’ll find your way.” Doctor Heart’s tone was hopeful, trying to steer away from the minefield that was the differences and new challenges his arrival brought.

“I’m sure I will, Doctor Cheer Heart. Might take a little time to get my bearings, but I’ll manage. I always manage.”

Thorne stood on the deck, the wind whipping through his hair and the toga he had been given. They confiscated his poncho. They had asked about his arm, but once telling them it was a simple prosthetic--of course showing it off for the ego stroke without revealing the hidden blade--they left it alone.

His wrists were still shackled, but he didn’t mind it. They weren’t tight nor uncomfortable and he respected that they were taking that precaution. Try as he might to worm his way out of them verbally, they were still wary of him. He appreciated the challenge.

What he didn’t appreciate was the upcoming scan while he sat in a jail cell at the port barracks. Since he had woken up it had been gnawing at his mind. He didn’t want to jump to being plastered on wanted posters if he could avoid it. That and he needed time to prepare his self. He needed gear, clothing, weapons, and tools. All of which he’d either have to make for himself--likely even gather the material for himself in order to make such things--or he’d have to gain the ‘bits’ to pay for it.

Deep down, he enjoyed that their currency was called ‘bits’. But he didn’t have time to spare at the moment to enjoy it fully. Instead he got into a discussion with the captain about a way to earn said bits which led back to mercenary work, which led him to pointing out that he’d need tools, weapons, and apparel in order to do such a line of work. Which this logic had left the captain stumped. But he, his first officer, and a few crew, did share a laugh as Thorne told them how funny it would be if he could continue to cavort around in his birthday suit.

Thorne took a lot of solace that the sloop was far faster than his tiny paddle boat. A part of him was even tickled pink that the raft had been left to float at the mercy of the winds. It meant his Master wouldn’t be getting it back. Even if it was a petty victory, it was a victory he relished.

Hardened eyes scanned the upcoming horizon. Another night began to bloom into existence, but in the distance, the familiar light of a bustling city drenched the skyline. It erased the stars and turned the majestic blues and blacks of tranquil night into lukewarm violets, pinks, and yellows.

‘All avenues of escape are impossible, so now we face the improbable. Will their magic detect this other type of magic? Will this be my final bow? I can only hope if they choose to kill me, they make it clean. Open casket would be appreciated, but we all know assassins get burned to ash.’

The human shuffled about on the deck, eyes going to the two scouts that watched over him. He had learned through listening their names were Spring Showers and Summer Flowers. Two very deep cobalt blue pegasi. Their manes and tails were almost cloud-like in color. Thorne complimented them on being scouts, due to them blending so well into the sky. He quite enjoyed the smug look the stallion had while his cohort tried to stay professional.

He let a sigh and gazed back to the incoming city. “Nervous?” the mare said as she eyed him curiously. Thorne shook his head in denial.

“Of course he’s nervous! Stranger in a strange land! I bet the tabloids have a field day with you!” The stallion shouted over the wind.

“I can only hope they get my good side,” Thorne snarked in a tone that was hidden by the rushing wind. They saw his lips move but didn’t quite catch his words. Both of the pegasi looked at one another and shrugged, deciding to leave it alone.

‘Mom would be so proud of her boy! He’s about to be in the papers!’ Thorne said internally with enough sarcasm to choke a pony. ‘And not for causing an international incident this time! Instead, it’s interdimensional!’

The gangplank slammed into the wooden dock with force and verve; wood-on-wood violence echoed in the harbor. The sounds of water lapping against the moored ship, pushing it until it rubbed against the dock in needy groans filled the night. The sounds of the city were distant but ever-present. It was night and most well-mannered citizens of Vanhoover were fast asleep. But like most metro areas, there was always a bustling nightlife.

Thorne stepped onto the ramp and peered out into this new world. His new world, fresh and ripe for the picking. If he could manage to stay alive. For the first time since arriving, he truly felt like he was in another place and time. He had pondered if this reality ran at the same pace to his own. Had they had thousands upon thousands of years of evolution, the same as humans? The urge ran deep to hit the books to learn. It truly fascinated him.

But he had things to do before he could see the places he wanted to see--places he knew he’d learn about. It warmed his black heart to see in the distance, ponies milling about as they about their night. He even heard someone shouting for a cab. That actually drew a short, pleased giggle.

His musings were brought to a halt as his eyes fell upon a stern looking mare at the end of the walkway. He continued to step down, escorted by the two scouts behind him and the captain in front of him. Thorne’s face went neutral; eyes glazing over with disdainful compliance.

“Buck, you weren’t kidding. He’s something alright,” the stern mare had an even sterner voice that sounded as though she had been put through the ringer. Gray mane and tail, braided, with a wine purple ribbon accenting both. Her coat was a lighter purple--almost a lilac in tone. She was an earth pony as well, same as the captain. Her eyes, however, were different.

The pupils looked as though crystals had grown there instead of what was natural. Yet her irises seemed untouched. They were a beautiful shade of wine purple, bringing the complimenting ribbons together. Though Thorne couldn’t understand what her rank may have been, for all she had on was a set of golden armor and a helmet. It was regal in its appearance, but Thorne thought it out of place. Upon trying to sneak a glance at her cutie mark when she turned to point the captain to where he should go, he found it covered by the armor.

The captain simply nodded and motioned for Thorne to follow along. Taking one last glance to the golden-armored mare, Thorne gave a nod of appreciation without breaking his neutral expression. Bare feet slapped along the wood to the beat of leading hooves as they traversed into the dockyard proper. It took every fiber of Thorne’s being to not raise a question about the mysteriously armored mare. And it became harder as he noticed more and more of those uniforms peppered into the dockyard population. It wasn’t many--maybe five at most--but it stood out.

All of them were looking at Thorne as he passed. It unnerved him deeply. His mind began to race yet again as sweat formed on his brow. He felt his heart starting to steadily rise as the fear started to creep in.

‘Stop being weak. Stop being fearful. You have this under control. No point in panicking! They couldn’t possibly know. They’re just suspicious. But what do they represent…? Oh gods, do the ponies have a secret police? Do the Princesses rule with an iron hoof?! Is… Is that why I’m here? Oh shit, am I a liberator?!’

Thorne inhaled deeply and rolled his shoulders and neck. He actually stretched, bringing his shackled wrist above his head. The loud sounds of his joints popping got a response of “Stop that,” from Spring Showers. He turned his head slightly and nodded, “Apologies. Just stretching. Stiff is all.”

‘They aren’t very secretive if they are the pony version of it. And given how Master rates on the ‘big-bad-villain’ scale, I would say I’m likely not a liberator…’

They approached an unremarkable gray building with two, what Thorne assumed, were some type of police. They nodded, allowing Captain Depths and entourage to enter the building. Dread went washing over Thorne as he passed the threshold. He was escorted down a winding hallway and his mind began to sketch out exits, entrances, push areas, retreat holes, and cover. His eyes darted around like a beast in a cage, drawing a mental 3D map of the installation. Each step was measured and he counted them off, keeping track of how many it took to reach certain areas between other mentally marked off boundaries. Instead of any questions or lingering doubts as to his fate, his mental faculties went entirely to their defaults.

He was either fighting his way through and would wade through a river of blood to freedom, or he would simply walk out the door again. Those were his options. They brought him to a simple singular cell for keeping overnight prisoners. He didn’t acknowledge anything said--he didn’t hear it. He was far too focused on those two options he laid out for himself. He instead sat himself down and stared at the wall in a moment of sheer solitude. His mind went back to the one place he called home.

He could hear the audience gathering in their seats. The theatre thrummed with excitement. The band began to tune their instruments. His fellow actors were all in a mad dash to put on their faces, their masks, their costumes. Last minute line prep happened all around him. He was ready, of course. He was the lead!

He simply needed to wait for the curtain to rise.

10. Health & Wellness

Thorne sat back in his cell, idly perusing the newspaper that had been slipped inside. It had been a few hours. It was likely getting close to midnight. Yet life still carried on outside of the bars. He had been released from his shackles while he was in his mental fortress. He had stayed there until he was sure he had a plan that was workable. The problem was, as with all plans, all-too-often did life decide to throw wrenches into them. But that is what he lived for. That’s what the pendant around his neck was meant to represent. He thrived in the chaos.

He focused on the newspaper instead of letting his mind wander yet again. ‘Apparently I can read the text of this world. I wonder if I can even write in it…’

“Friendship is magic and should be taught to all… Princess Twilight's School of Friendship noted as a huge success...” he read aloud to no one in particular. “Wonder if they’d let me enroll. I could use some friends.”

That got a snicker from Summer. Thorne merely peered up from the newspaper and smirked. “You’re far more easy-going than your stick-up-the-rear sister. How are you holding up, Summer Flowers?”

“I’m right here you know,” Spring Showers responded. “And we shouldn’t be acknowledging him! Protocol, Summer! He’s a prisoner at the moment! For all we know, some hostile entity!”

“Yes, because villains can really belt out songs about the navy,” Summer remarked with a sassy tone.

Thorne raised an eyebrow. “Mmm, you’d be surprised.”

“See! He basically just admitted to being a villain!”

The human behind the bars scoffed. “Because that would be the intelligent thing to do,” his tone now full of sass. It elicited a giggle from the easy-going stallion. “Am I going to get an answer to my question, however?”

Spring looked to Summer and shook her head violently to tell him ‘no’. Summer, instead, sighed. “I’m happy to be back ashore. Maybe I’ll get to go see my special stallion and surprise him!”

“Oh ho,” Thorne remarked with intrigue dripping from the vowels. ‘Ha, had him pegged!’ “So open and out there… I applaud it. I hope you do get some quality time with your partner.” He made sure to phrase ‘quality time’ with enough emphasis to make the stallion blush.

Spring, however, turned slightly. “You almost sounded like such things are scandalous.”

“Aren’t they? Or is sex and whom you choose to bed less guarded in this world? Where I hail from, it’s not entirely accepted that same-sex love even exists. Depends on the region of the world you hail from. Some are persecuted for it.” Thorne said flatly. “And then there is the issue of humanity being prudish. It’s certainly not something you can just talk about over brunch. Well, again, it depends on the region and culture.”

Summer had his ears fall as he heard the word ‘persecuted’. Spring simply huffed. “Humans are weird. There are certainly some around here that are prudes, but it’s generally accepted that love is love. What ponies do in their privacy is on them. It’s natural and a part of life.”

Thorne smiled. “Of course. Good to know.” He went quiet a moment before a truly devious grin went across his face. “So good to know, in fact, Miss Spring Showers, would you care to go to dinner with me after this debacle is done with? I’ve no idea how I’ll pay for it, but as a gentleman, I would be honored.”

‘Three, two, one…’

There came a lot of stuttering and tripping over words as an outraged mare just looked back between the bars, her brother, and the wall she stood in front of. Thorne could see the blush creeping all over her muzzle. “Out of the question!” She responded finally after what felt like an eternity. It was all Thorne could do to keep himself from busting out in laughter. He kept that smirk on his face. Spring’s brother, however, looked like he was about to wet himself with how funny he had found his sister’s embarrassed stammering.

“Suit yourself,” Thorne replied as he got up and folded the newspaper to set it aside. “I believe I’ll catch some sleep.”

Spring snorted. “That would be best.”

Thorne climbed into the provided bed. It was small and stiff but he had slept on far worse. He’d drift off for a nap and see what this magical scan had in store.

Dawn cracked in through the singular window that gave a glimpse to the outside world. The sunlight held Thorne in contempt as it beamed directly over his eyes, piercing his eyelids like lances. He shifted in annoyance to try and block it out, yet when he rolled over, all he felt was the heat of the morning sun digging into the back of his skull. With a huff he arose and rubbed his face.

“And I’m telling you, the press demands to know!”

He heard an unrecognized male voice well beyond his vision and his cell that seemed intent on arguing with the two guards. Sometime during the night, Spring and Summer had been swapped out with the gold armored variety.

“The press can demand all it wants, but this is a matter of security. After the medical examination and given the all clear, you can write a book about him for all I care,” another unseen male voice responded.

“When is that scan due, by the way?” Thorne shouted. “Not to interrupt a passionate discussion over book rights, but I’d like to get on with this. And I’ll have to ask for no flash photography at the moment. I look positively dreadful.” There was a hint of snark in his tone.

The two guards at his cell door looked at each other, nodded in some understood way, and turned around to face the man. One opened the cell while the other went inside, branding those familiar shackles in his unicorn magic. Thorne rolled his eyes and brought his wrists together. “Suppose we’ll do it now then, excellent.” He remarked as they went clamping on his extremities.

“We were allowing you to sleep,” the unicorn guardsman grunted. “But since you seem awake for it and the doctor is in, then we can get this over and done with.” His voice sounded irritated.

Thorne probably sounded just as irritated and he didn’t blame the stallion. The two looked to one another once again and began to lead the human out of the cell. Once outside, Thorne went looking for the voice of the ‘press’.

Standing near the front entrance, just outside the hallway that led down into the isolation tank he resided in, a stunningly dressed stallion stood, pen and paper floating in a magical aura. He was taking notes at a pace that caused the notepad to start smoking. Thorne didn’t pay him much mind in the looks department, but he did admire the suit he wore. A simple but elegant brown jacket thrown over a plain white dress shirt. He had his badge pinned to his lapel and another badge in his hat.

‘I’ll need to find out where he got that suit. Looks rather well made.’

Turning his attention away, Thorne followed after his escorts as they went into a designated medical room. It was cleaner, brighter, and more sanitary than the aid room upon The Deep Blue. It looked more professional, which gave Thorne a sense of security. It was a feeling that quickly vanished as he stepped inside. He had a knot of worry in his stomach--one that had been there since he set off on this journey. And it grew as more pressure was weighted upon him.

“Good morning, mister Thorne,” a brash-but-womanly voice called out. “I just got done speaking with Doctor Cheer Heart. After she got a hold of you, she informed me of some initial work she had done for you as far as healing and seeing to your well being. I am Doctor Ray.”

Without thinking, Thorne responded with a cynical, “Please tell me your first name isn’t ‘X’.”

The doctor blinked and shook her head. “No. It’s actually ‘Red’.”

It was Thorne’s turn to blink. Though it became clear as a red magical aura emitted from the horn of the mare. “Ah,” the human said as he walked farther into the room and sat down on the provided medical bed.

‘Do they even know what an X-ray is?... Does radiation exist in this world? Or is it a different type…?’

Thorne quickly pushed those thoughts aside as the mare started speaking again. “So, I will be performing a scan over your body to get an understanding of your biology. I’ll be checking for any abnormalities that could be dangerous to you or others. And once we’re done, I’ll be sending this report to the Princesses. Understood?”

“Mhm. Makes sense. A strange creature is now intruding upon their lands, it would be best to be informed of it--and any medical condition it might spread. I assure you, however, I am clean. But do go ahead.”

‘Moment of truth.’

“Very well. Please disrobe, lie back, and be still. This should only take a few minutes.”

Thorne complied, standing and letting the toga fall off him with a simple tug of a knot. He sat back down and lied back, shifting to get comfortable on the cold examination table. He inhaled deeply and put his arms to his side. He gave one last glance to the doorway. The door had been shut but he knew those two guards were standing right outside. He went back to stare at the ceiling for a lingering moment. Again the feeling came. He wouldn’t allow it to become physical fear. His eyes closed as he felt a magical red aura beginning to wash over him.

He could hear the doctor straining her breathing slightly as she started with the top of his head and began to move her horn over his body. He didn’t have his eyes open, but he would see the bright red orb that went over his face as she slowly moved down. He did his best to not have any thoughts go through his head out of fear of her being able to read his mind.

Instead, he lied perfectly still and focused entirely on listening to his own breathing. He found it increasingly difficult, however, as she neared his chest. His heart rate began to increase of its own accord and sent him focusing on it instead of his breath. He was fighting a war against it and his mind--a war on two fronts that was maddening. He began to hear a ringing in his ears. Without realizing it, he had tensed up.

He didn’t know how long he had been there. All he knew was that the infernal ringing in his ears was getting louder, spurred on by the ever increasing beating of his heart. He fought every instinct that tried to preserve his well-being. He knew he was done for, but he wasn’t going to let those thoughts rise to the surface. He merely had to accept it. More and more the knots in his stomach twisted into tight bundles.

“Thorne?”

He snapped his eyes open. Everything began to recede. “Hmm? Huh?” He asked swiftly, eyes darting about the ceiling.

“We’re done. And nothing on the illness front. Though you were looking a little green there as that happened, but I assume that’s the constipation.”

“Constipation?”

“Mhm. I’ve got a little something for that here. But first, a question. Do you know there are foreign objects in your body?”

His heart leapt into his throat. “Foreign objects?” He took a deep breath, giving him a moment to think. “You mean the metal in my body, right?”

“Yes. It’s not a metal we have here I don’t believe… But you’ve got several pieces of it that seem attached at various places throughout your body. What do they do?”

“They hold me together, doc,” Thorne replied, “I’ve suffered several fractures and broken bones.” He reached up and tapped the top-right of his skull. “Even had a fracture up here that needed a small plate.”

He then extended his left hand. “And of course, I’ve got a metal stump to serve as a connector into my arm here. I’m sure you noticed a few wires where this thing connects.”

The doctor levitated a pen and began making notes in the file. “I see… And I take it those wires help you control your grip and act as a sort of sensitivity detection?”

“Very astute. It’s not as fragile as living tissue on my other hand, but it allows me to at least feel weight and pressure on my fingertips. It’s a dull sensation, but it’s better than nothing. And it allows for a more agile and varied response in motor function.” Thorne demonstrated, wriggling his fingers back and forth in a semi-fluid motion. “It’s a modern miracle back on my world. Science had just begun to delve into the depths of limb replacement on this level. It took a lot of time, money, and research, but was well worth it in the end. Though… being in this world, I’m cut off from a supply of parts and energy that is needed to keep it running.”

The doctor gave a sad look at that, setting her pen down on the file. “I’m sure you could find somepony out there who can machine the parts for it. It likely won’t be out of the same material, however. I don’t know if that’s a big difference or not. As far as energy, I can’t really help there. I’ve heard of crystals holding energy, but you’d need to go to the Crystal Empire to really get a grasp on such things.”

Thorne smiled. “Well that’s a place to start. But first, I think I need that medicine you were talking about, a new wardrobe for everyday where, and some shoes. There was a well-dressed stallion with the press outside and I wanted to question him as to where he got his clothing.”

“Of course. I think that covers everything. You’re probably about to be hounded by the press regardless. Information leaked about you the moment the report came in, so it’s to be expected.”

Thorne smiled. “It brings me much joy to know that the news cycle here is as feisty as it is back home. So nothing wrong with me? Nothing out of the ordinary?” Thorne pressed the doctor, wondering if she was keeping something from him. He stood and began to gather his toga.

“Nope!” She said with a smile. “Clean bill of health. You’ve got a strong heart, strong body… your pulse was quick, but I account for nerves. Your immune system is a bit weary from being out in the desert with so little food and water, but should be fine in a few days. Doctor Heart did a good job healing your surface wounds. And once I give you something for that constipation, you should be feeling back to one-hundred percent.”

Thorne gave a factual sigh of relief. “That takes a lot off my shoulders, doctor. You’ve no idea. So… Am I going to be let loose?”

“I imagine so. No real reason to keep you. Though I’m sure those royal guards will keep an eye on you. I wouldn’t be surprised if you don’t get a summons to Canterlot in the coming week.”

“Canterlot, hmm? I take it I would be meeting with royalty?” Thorne questioned, tying his toga back together with a simple knot at the waist. “Then I should be in top condition and with a good bit of clothing.” Thorne then let out a sigh. “I’ll need to scrounge up some bits.”

“I’m sure you’ll find some generous folk out there,” the doctor responded as she gathered up the file. “But for now, you’re free to go. At least until that press stallion gets a hold of you.” She gave him a playful look before opening the door to head out. Thorne simply returned the smile and nodded.

He looked to the guards. ‘Royal guards, hmm? Interesting.’ “Alright lads, all clear from the doc! I believe I will be taking my leave.”

The two guards looked at one another and then to the tall human, giving a nod. With that, Thorne stepped further down the hall. With a deep exhale, he felt the boots of the world giving his neck a reprieve.

‘Looks like I won’t need to put on a show. Always a shame when a play gets cancelled. But I know the stage will be waiting until next time.’

11. Planting Seeds

Thorne stood outside in the dockyard a free man. Or as free as he could be. He inhaled deeply, instilling himself with the scent of the musty buildings that stewed in the salty breeze and the life of the city behind him.

Next to him stood the fetchingly-dressed stallion named Page Turner. Thorne expected him to be named ‘Free Press’ and after making such a joke, was informed that ‘Free Press’ was actually the lead writer for the ‘Daily Trot’. It wasn’t a two-bit rag, but apparently it had a ‘reputation’ for publishing more scandalous articles. All the more reason why Mister Turner had leapt at the opportunity to actually get a story none of the bigger names in journalism had been informed of.

Thorne saw it as an opportunity to get into the good graces of the nation and its people. Turner had offered to buy him breakfast and a coffee in exchange for details regarding Thorne’s past and his world. Thorne swiftly countered that he would agree to details regarding his world--at least the more positive details--and that his past would be more of a synopsis. He didn’t want an autobiography nor did he want to unload upon the populace a story that would make him reviled.

Though the thought of an autobiography did fill him with a bit of whimsy. Of course the entire world, now that they were walking down the sidewalk, seemed to be full of it. Colorful ponies in either nothing at all or decked out in high fashion roamed the streets in the mid-morning heat. Thorne had asked about the weather to Mr. Turner only to be told that it was just after the Summer Sun Celebration--which when pressed on it, told Thorne it was when the princesses made a grand spectacle of raising and lowering their respective sky-bound charges.

Now Thorne had a timetable for when he had arrived in this world. And it seemed to run parallel to his. It was just after the first week in July when he found himself in Equestria. It also gave him a rather specific holiday to denote when his death may occur should he not fulfill his summoned obligation.

Every now and again as they strode rather quietly to the diner Page had mentioned, Thorne would turn his head and spy in the distance two of the royal guards tailing them. He paid it little mind. So long as he didn’t break any laws or give them reason to suspect him, he was just a human in another world with nothing to his name but a toga and a friendly face.

“You know, I’ve given it some thought, Page--may I call you Page?” Thorne broke the silence, his head angling down to look at the unicorn stallion.

“You may!” Page responded cheerfully. “What were you pondering, Thorne?”

“If you give me a few bits--hear me out--if you do, I could buy myself a little journal. I’ll start writing down my life before and after here in Equestria. I’ll ship it off to you before the next Summer Sun Celebration and you’ll basically have a book to publish.”

Page simply raised a suspicious eyebrow. Thorne knew that skeptical look anywhere. He leaned down slightly and whispered, “Think about it. Exclusive rights to the secretive human’s life and past. You’d get rich enough to be royalty within the first week.”

The unicorn didn’t waiver, however. “Why wait so long? And why be so secretive?”

Thorne stood tall again and smirked. “Because details of my life are not for the faint of heart. And to my people, to be secretive is how we survived.” His eyes glanced around the familiar feeling metropolitan block. Apartments, businesses, and alleyways littered his cone of vision. The street and sidewalk were cleaner than what he was accustomed to. He didn’t find the staggering amount of homelessness--though he did find a few. But ponies were often seen helping their fellow pony.

“Hmm. Well I’m sorry, but I must decline. Of course, out of generosity I’ll loan you a few bits to get it, but to be honest, I’m just happy to get a story.” Page remarked, his gaze going up to the human who in turn looked flummoxed.

“Really?” Thorne’s confusion snuck out in his tone. Page simply nodded in response. “But why?”

“Well you make it sound as though your life is a very sad and tragic tale. And while I’d appreciate it, the money doesn’t mean that much to me. Besides, it sounds as if you’ll be leaving after a year.”

“Huh. Clever… And here I thought you were all naïve and trusting.” Thorne said aloud. And he immediately stopped the moment he said it, his face turning pale. ‘Oh fuck.’

The stallion had taken a few steps ahead but stopped and turned his head back. He gave Thorne a sly grin. “I’ll leave that quote out, don’t worry. But I understand where it came from. Though I must have really surprised you in turning that offer down.”

Page spun about and stepped closer, beckoning Thorne to crouch down so they could talk quietly to one another. Thorne obliged, squatting himself to get eye-level with the stallion. “Not all of us are open books. Our society has its blemishes. Everypony has something in their closet. But, just know that the reason we seem so ‘naïve and trusting’ is due to the harmony we need to maintain. Understand?”

Thorne shook his head. “Not really.”

Page sighed. “Long ago, before the founding of Equestria, the three tribes hated one another. Because of that hatred, the land itself rose up in defiance. A magical blizzard beset itself upon ponykind. The more we fought, the fiercer the blizzard became. Until no food, water, or shelter was enough to sustain.”

Page went quiet as a mare passed the two on the street. Once she was gone, he continued. “So then the leaders decided to find a new land. They did. But all three tribe leaders again went at one another over this new land. And again the land rose up. It wasn’t until they let friendship and harmony into their hearts did the land give them respite.”

Thorne nodded. “And that’s how Equestria was founded, then? On principles of friendship and harmony?”

Page gave a sagely nod. “Yep. You got it.”

Thorne blinked. “Well my friend, you’ve given me some insight. But you’ve also just given me a very potent weapon,” Thorne smirked. “Now I know some of you will push back against me and surprise me.”

It was Page’s turn to blink. “You were really getting a rather lowly opinion of all of us, weren’t you?”

Thorne sighed. “Listen. Where I come from, ponies can’t talk. They’re just animals. And now that I’m here, it’s a bit difficult to see the difference. It’s only been a week. But now I see I am dealing with some that will be… varied. Just as humans are.”

He reached up with his right hand and gave the stallion a pat on the cheek. “Thank you for setting me straight, Page.” With that, Thorne stood back up. “As far as to why a year, it is because I don’t believe I’ll last more than a year here. Not that I wouldn’t survive, it’s just… I might find a solution home since magic is so powerful here.”

Page seemed a little flustered at the pat on the cheek after having been compared to an animal. But he sighed and let it go. There was a moment of silence between the two, both of them peering at one another with a bit of newfound understanding. It was broken as Thorne’s stomach made a noise. The stallion chuckled, “Come on. Let’s go get breakfast. Diner is just around the corner.”

“Oh sweet nectar of the gods… damn that’s good,” Thorne said with an almost sexual purr in his deep voice. He didn’t care that the coffee was near scalding hot. He hadn’t tasted the sweet bean juice in days. He downed the entire mug before the waitress could even step away. She stared at the strange creature before her but went to refill the cup all the same. Once she was satisfied he wasn’t going to down it again in another gulp, she retreated back to the kitchen to fulfill their order.

“Waffles, huh?” Page asked.

“Well everything else seemed very herbivore… Wait. Am I going to get like hay-filled waffles? Do you guys have ‘haycakes’ or something instead of pancakes?” Thorne questioned as he cradled his mug.

Page chuckled. “I think you can rest assured they’ll be like your pancakes back home. But that goes into the first question, I noticed you have a set of fangs. I take it you eat meat?” The pen and notepad went fluttering out of his jacket pocket, ready to take the information down.

Thorne blinked and set his mug down. He opened his mouth and took a finger to prodding at his canines. After a moment of showing them off, he closed his mouth again and cleared his throat. “Omnivore, but yes. I eat meat. I actually loved to grill. Not really fangs, but it is neat to look at them that way.”

The pony before him looked a bit squeamish at that. “Not going to go eating any ponies are you?”

“Not unless I’m starving in the wilderness,” Thorne deadpanned. That earned a gulp from Page. “I’m teasing. No. I’m not going to eat a pony. Well… Okay, there is a lewd joke there, but I’ll keep this clean.”

Page actually snickered at that. “Leaving that one out, but I got your joke. Alright, so how about how you ended up here?”

“Shouldn’t that have been your first question? And the answer is: magical portal. No idea who or what opened it, why it opened, or if there is a way back.” Thorne replied simply.

“I kind of figured that was a given and didn’t really want to break out the obvious question. Alright, tell me about your homeland. Specifically where you grew up!”

Thorne leaned back. “That… that’s a bit difficult. But I can tell you some. I grew up in a nation called ‘The United States of America’. It was a land of freedom and personal liberties. The citizens had a say in everything. I could go into it at length--all the faults, downsides, and problems. But the positives are what made people stay and keep migrating there.”

Thorne put his elbow on the table and leaned into his mechanical palm. He watched Page jot everything down with furious strokes in his magical grasp. Once he saw him pause, Thorne continued. “I’d rather not talk of my family life, but I can say I was born into a family that was… strict. I was basically raised as a soldier. Taught how to wield weapons and fight from an early age. It’s what inevitably led me to join our nation’s military. I found myself excelling into the U.S. Special Forces and I can’t talk much about that. That was my life until I left to form my own group. Been a mercenary ever since.”

Again the pen went flicking, loudly writing everything down. Thorne paused as he heard the bell and the call for ‘order up’. He peered over, hoping it was their order. Sadly it went to another table.

“War and strife filled our world. But there were good parts of it. Hopes and dreams abound. Science and technology that would make heads spin here. In truth, I worry that I’ll become a part of political schemes or scientific research. Maybe get sucked into some think-tank in order to pick my brain about what could be implemented here.” He heaved a heavy sigh, shifting in his seat. He began to drum his fingers along the wooden table.

“While I will be an asset to anyone or anything here, I refuse to let my world claw itself here. I would rather die than bring what horrors could be beset upon this land…” Again Thorne sighed. “Sorry for getting dark. When all you’ve seen is darkness, it’s quite surprising to find a light. Especially one as beautiful as this world… And I’ve barely seen it.”

Page almost looked like he was holding back tears. Thorne merely took a nonchalant swig of his coffee. The journalist inhaled deeply and steadied himself. “So where does ‘Lord’ come into play then? To get us off the depressing topic.”

“Ah. Someone was listening. The United States had no nobility, so how would I be a ‘lord’? I wasn’t, in reality.” Thorne answered honestly.

“Then why lie about it?”

“It wasn’t a lie. I see myself as one. I earned it. I carried myself as a noble would; I treated my people with grace and dignity. I was swift to punish any who stood against me but I was always fair. I had a love for such things. I still do. To me, being born a noble simply means you won a lottery. To be a noble is to be so much more.” Thorne declared, his voice getting a bit sterner. “By the definitions of nobility, I wasn’t born a noble. Therefore I wasn’t one. But that never stopped humanity before. Just because you were born something doesn’t mean you can’t become something greater than yourself!”

“Ooo that’s going to get a couple ponies riled…” Page commented, sipping his own coffee.

Thorne sniffed and crossed his arms. “Let them be riled.” This time the lull in the conversation was rewarded as their food was rung up and delivered. Without hesitation, Thorne thanked the waitress and grabbed his utensils, digging into the waffles. He tongued the slurry of syrup and butter and grains in his mouth a moment before swallowing. “Ah that does taste like home.”

Page smirked and dug into his pancakes and chewed thoughtfully. After another swig of coffee, he looked back to Thorne. “Tell me some of the good things you saw in your world. And maybe you can find those same things here.”

Thorne ceased his furious charge into the meal and swallowed, having to take a gulp of his own dark brew in order to wash the syrup from his tongue. “People helping people when they were down. I saw some of it earlier. Generosity being passed around. Kindness being shown. Ponies and people aren’t that different, as you said. Loyalty was always a staple in building trust, same with honesty. And of course the willingness to share a laugh.”

The man had a smirk on his face. Page merely chuckled. “You took that from the paper, didn’t you? Those are the pillars of harmony and are being taught at Princess Twilight’s school.”

“I confess, you have me there my good stallion. But they were some of the greater things I saw in humanity. As far as some of the good things on a more personal level… Hmm. Plays. And operas, of course. I loved those. I was always a fan of music, especially when played by an orchestra. In my moments of free time, I often dreamed of being whisked away to a world of magic and fantasy--one where I could play the rapscallion rogue.”

Page raised an eyebrow at that. “I think you got your wish.”

“Far more than I bargained for,” Thorne retorted without skipping a beat.

“Aren’t rogues usually thieves and cutthroats?”

Thorne chuckled. “I suppose. But do they really need to be that? Can’t they just be upstarts who go and do their own thing? All while having the charm and suave to woo a mare off her hooves?” He wriggled his eyebrows at that. Page snickered.

“It is within my interests to suggest you stay away from the usual antics of a highwaypony and instead just focus on wooing the mares.” Page said, flipping the page of his notepad for the near thirtieth time. “Though that makes me ask, you’ve only been here a week and you’ve barely seen ponies, right? Do you… find them attractive?”

“A bit personal, isn’t it?” Thorne bit back. “But no. Truthfully, it would take quite a lot to overcome the ingrained teachings of my people for me to even look at a pony in such a way. But I am not above complimenting beauty.”

With that, Thorne dug back into his half-empty plate. Page went and scribbled a few more things down before he continued with his own meal. The silence this time lasted until both of them were done. Thorne downed the rest of his coffee and refused a refill, stating he had incurred enough charges on the stallion before him. Page merely thanked him for that kindness.

“One last question, Thorne. What will you do now?”

“I suppose I’ll find a way to make some bits. Probably start wandering. Though the doctor told me I should probably expect a summons to Canterlot. Which makes sense…”

Thorne sighed. Then he felt his stomach lash out in pain. He doubled over a moment and groaned. “But I suppose the first thing I’ll do is rush to the bathroom! Excuse me!”

With that, he dashed off. It left Page Turner there snickering, his pen writing down the last few lines of his exclusive.

12. Taking Root

With Page Turner’s help, the story of Thorne was circulating in the papers. Every publication had picked it up a day later. In the span of three days, Thorne had become a celebrity. A poor, disheveled celebrity, but a celebrity nonetheless.

He had taken the bits that Page had loaned him and bought himself the journal as promised. He even had enough left over to buy a sketch book--one that he immediately began filling with designs. The first thing to get jotted down was a pair of boots. Ones with metal soles and toes. Thorne had the unpleasant awakening of just how heavy a pony might be when one stepped on his foot. He couldn’t be upset at them--they didn’t know toes all that well. Thorne was just happy to not have lost one. Luckily ponies weren’t that heavy. He figured he could throw them around quite bodily if he wanted.

Walking around barefoot also presented another problem as the city was welcoming, he figured the road outside would be less so. It still amazed him how clean it was. He was even surprised to find out that they had working toilets. The parallels to this world and his were scary in some situations. He had even found a club that was pumping beats from a disc jockey. The thought that went through his head at the time was: ‘A DJ. Behold, a horse without a jockey for it is a jockey itself!’

He sat on a bench in the park. He had discovered that the animals tended to avoid him. Or at least the smaller woodland animals did. It was as if they could sense the beast that walked in that shell of skin. A few ponies--ones that seemed to take care of the wildlife--even noted how odd their charges seem to be when Thorne was doing nothing but sitting there drawing.

The bench was wooden and freshly painted over. A serene green that made the wood blend into the tranquil park. Little colts and fillies ran about playing on the equipment that was provided by the city. A nice little playground. Every now and again he’d hear the shrill yell of foals playing and it’d make him look up from his sketching. Something about the scene tugged at a piece lost in his heart.

All around him he was surrounded by summer-time merriment. Couples out on a walk to get away from the busy streets of the city in order to enjoy a picnic. Vendors walking about selling treats to passersby's. The occasional loner that stumbled into the park only to be taken aback by the peace that found them. The birds singing a tune in the gently swaying trees. It wasn’t a forceful breeze, but it was enough of one to stir the pollen. The flowers that blossomed appreciated it, though a few ponies with allergies didn’t.

Thorne looked over the sea of green that was freshly trimmed grass. The flowers that bloomed in designated areas disrupted the sea like miniature islands of color, the spaces cordoned off so nopony would trample them. His gaze went back down to his sketch pad.

An abomination filled the page.

Thorne had sketched out a tool meant for killing--specifically killing the winged. He had seen in a shop that a ‘griffon crossbow’ was for sale. It was an antique--not meant to be used--but it gave him a starting place. He knew he wouldn’t be able to get the flintlock idea working and he knew it was something that he didn’t want to really introduce into the world. Not before the world was ready. He also saw in that same antique shop that they were selling a ‘pie cannon’.

He had no idea what a ‘pie cannon’ could be, but they did have the concept of cannons. Which also meant they had gunpowder. Or a rudimentary understanding of it. But they had crossbows. He wouldn’t mind introducing them to a better version of that. Though he wasn’t about to go selling the design. What he was sketching was more like its big brother. A scarier, heavier, human-only version.

The design that filled the page would have been considered a heavy crossbow--a siege weapon by the Equus standards. However, due to the way the creatures of this world wouldn’t be able to manipulate a crank like a human would be able too, Thorne assumed such a crossbow was more mounted and used like a turret. Instead, his drawing was showing just what could be done in the right hands.

He had always enjoyed the modern composite crossbows, but he knew such a feat of plastics and alloys would likely be unachievable in this reality for a while. So he was doing the design large and heavy with many moving parts. It would have to be wood and steel with heavily woven string from fibers. He estimated the thing, when finished, was probably twenty pounds.

The thing looked like a modern rifle, except lacking a barrel or receiver. Instead, it had the standard crossbow design with a few deviations. He had modified a system of pulleys into it in order to up the strength on the release. But this also made drawing the thing an affair. It wouldn’t be fast but he assumed it would be quicker than the older models.

Instead, it had a breakaway piece that went along a rail. He had sketched out onto the side several of the moving pieces that allowed this to work. Once the weapon was placed with the dangerous end down, a flick of a lock released the cocking mechanism. The reason the thing was so large was due to the hidden and hollow compartment for moving this cocking mechanism. It had several gears that coiled a small chain that hid away in the compartment. One simply needed to release it, push the break-away cocking-slide down the railway, connect it to the string, and then rapidly crank. This would pull the string tight with one hand. Once cocked, it locked itself into place, allowing the trigger to be depressed. The crank was even built into the side, allowing a simple flick of it to extend to full length for operation.

He had basically sketched an Equestrian sniper rifle about one-hundred years before the land was ready for such a thing. He had even put in notes in the margins about testing and firing. He had sketched out a full reticle even, wondering if he could get a small primitive scope on the thing. The bolts themselves looked as though they would bring an adult dragon down.

He had also made notes about whether they had steel or not. He had assumed they had to have the metal, given the buildings. He wondered if it was all truly iron. Or perhaps they had some sort of magical metal. Still, he was sure the design could work out of iron. And he’d need to make several replacement strings as well.

Once he was satisfied, he’d turn to the next page and continue. He was content to keep sketching away, summoning up ideas for clothing, armor, and even a backpack and a quiver for bolts. He also took the chance to sketch some of the local flora, noting that he needed to find a book on them in order to start researching toxicity.

His concentration was interrupted as he heard a small voice next to him. “Wow mister, you draw really well!”

Thorne got pulled from his thoughts and looked over with stern eyes. The colt didn’t even flinch; instead he just looked captivated by the golden irises that were studying him. It was a deep green colored earth pony with a brown mane and tail.

“You, little one, blend right in with the grass,” the man replied calmly, putting the pencil he was using between the pages. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you not to talk to strangers?” Thorne gave a soft smile.

“Yeah but you’re Thorne! Momma said you’re a good pony!”

Thorne raised an eyebrow. “Really, now? She read the tabloids?” The colt nodded furiously. That got a chuckle. “Well, I wouldn’t say pony since I’m not a pony, but otherwise she’s right.” He winked at the colt. “Where is she by the way?”

“She had to go talk to dad even though she didn’t want to,” the colt responded, hanging his head. “She said she’d be right back though!” He said swiftly.

“Been gone long?”

“Nuh-uh! Only a few minutes.”

Thorne smiled softly. “Alright. Good. Well then, care to watch me draw some more flowers? It’s not very exciting, but if you see a nice one you want drawn, let me know. I’ll even let you keep it if you want. Sit here and enjoy the day while we wait for your mother. Sounds like a plan, yeah?”

The colt lit up, bouncing a little on the bench. “Yeah!”

He took up the pencil again and turned to a fresh page, letting the young pony pick a flower out for him to start sketching. He set to work soon after, the colt basically leaning into his side in order to watch him draw.

‘Kids.’ Thorne thought with a smirk on his face.

Princess Celestia sat, eyes watching her sister Luna go pacing back and forth with a newspaper, her horn aglow in twinkling blue magic. The paper followed her back and forth as she read over the article that was on its front page. Celestia levitated a small plate with a slice of chocolate cake up, manipulating a fork to take a chunk out of the prey before her. She happily bit down on the piece she had speared.

It took several moments of her chewing, swallowing, and savoring the flavor, before she turned her attention back to the Princess of the Night. It was nearing time for them to perform their duties once more, but Luna seemed preoccupied with the story Celestia had given her. Celestia levitated a napkin to her muzzle and daintily dabbed. It wasn’t because there was anything on her face, but more so out of habit.

Luna just folded the paper up and set it on the elongated table. Both of them were inside of the royal dining room, though Luna had decided to skip breakfast for now, choosing instead to see what her sister had floated to her. She took up a chair next to her sister and inhaled deeply, conjuring the willpower to accept what was about to happen.

“He’s right,” Celestia said, breaking the wall that was trying to be built between them.

Luna slammed a hoof down. “Surely you see him as the assassin, yes?! A strange creature we’ve never seen before, boasting of being a mercenary and soldier! Someone who had come straight from the exiles desert! You can’t possibly be thinking of giving into that last claim of his!”

Celestia held up a hoof. “He. Is. Right.” She put hard emphasis on each word. “He needs to be summoned to Canterlot. He is right to expect it.”

“Tia! If this is another ‘they can be redeemed’ plea, I am going to--” Luna had her muzzle clamped by Celestia’s majestic gold colored magic.

“He’s not done anything worthy of being redeemed. And this is an opportunity, sister.”

Luna was released from the magical grasp and inhaled deeply. The inhale stopped mid-way and she looked at her sister with a sudden appraising look. “Are you suggesting we use him to our advantage?”

Celestia smiled. “He did say he wanted to play… what was it? ‘The rapscallion rogue’? Besides, I already know if he were to walk out of here, you’d place a spy on him.”

“I would do no such thing.” Luna said as she held her nose to the air. It only took a moment for the mask to start cracking and she chuckled. “Okay. Yes. One of my thestrals would have followed him. And probably would do more if they saw an opportunity…”

Celestia joined in the chuckling. “I know you too well. So, why do we not do that, but do it openly? Give him a travelling companion. Have them report to us. Keep tabs on him. We merely allow him to play his part and send him to deal with… problems.”

Luna tapped a hoof to her chin. “I sometimes forget how devious you can truly be, sister.”

Celestia seemed to beam at the praise. “I have my moments. You enjoy your espionage and more direct methods, but I enjoy a more political advantage. And when we combine our talents…”

Luna smirked, “An unstoppable force are we.” The dark colored mare scooted close to embrace her sister in a gentle hug. There was a pause in the conversation before she leaned back and gave Celestia a quizzical look. “Still thinking of giving it all over to Twilight?”

Celestia tittered. “Oh yes. Doesn’t mean I won’t teach her all the tips and tricks. And she’ll have you as well.”

Luna stood from her chair. “She’ll become a force to be reckoned with. Let us hope she never goes full Sombra.”

The pure white sister arose and nodded. “I doubt that will happen. She’s got a lot of investment and incentive to not do something so foolish. But for now, we have something to do before I retire to sleep and you start your night. Be sure to eat something.” Celestia adopted that motherly tone as she reminded her sister of basic needs. It merely got a groan from the younger mare.

13. Bountiful Harvest

Canterlot.

The shimmering city up on a mountain. A white city with decorated gold and purple trim. It screamed royalty quite literally to the heavens its spires threatened to reach out and touch. Every facet of the city was to be unicorn perfection. Even the slums seemed to sparkle with iridescent hints of magic.

It was said if you couldn’t make it in Canterlot, then you weren’t of the elite, and should try your luck in Manehattan. It was the city that everyone wanted to be inside of. The city where a pony’s dreams could be made. It didn’t matter where you hailed from, so long as you did your best and put the values of ponykind first, then you were sure to be rewarded. Stories churned of how it was utopia where benevolent rulers sat within their ivory towers, bequeathing unto ponykind the blessings of day and night.

There was no crime. There was no intolerance. No hatred of any kind. Not even the poor or lower class existed in Canterlot. It was far too blessed for such things.

Thorne was disgusted by what he saw.

He could see it in the way the ponies carried themselves. This arrogance that flowed from their motions that told the human eye that they were trying too hard to impress everyone around them. Thorne had equated it to show-ponies. A sin circus that held deep and repressive natures under the surface, all of it hidden behind fashionable clothing and bountiful manestyles.

He could feel their eyes upon him as he trudged the streets. Again, they were clean and tidy--something that was almost unnerving. A thought went shooting across his mind that he was the trash on the streets. That was the oppressive nature of the city, he assured himself.

Thorne had felt oppressed since he stepped off the train. Like every eye was judging him--demanding perfection from him. It was a strange sensation; a sensation that he wouldn’t have paid any mind too, yet he did. For some reason, it held his stomach in a knot. Such a thing wasn’t foreign to him and he had dealt with it before.

He thought back to when he received that letter--one from a flashy pegasus with the royal stamp of approval, both on his armor and the message he carried. Once he had gotten his summons, he then went to address the guards that were tailing him and asked for an escort to the royal city. They were almost too happy to oblige. It had been a solid three day ride within the confines of a train car. It was small and cramped--triggering a hint of claustrophobia within the man.

He had asked the guards about the city since they were eager to travel with him as escorts. Nothing was held back as they spoke about the city in a manner that had given Thorne the idea that the city was perfect. They had heaped praise upon praise upon the city, insisting it was the height of everything. Thorne could now see why. It was a shimmering jewel to the untrained eye.

To the conceited and distrustful eye, it was a cesspit of racial hatred that was one lit fuse away from exploding. To the mobster’s eye, it was a city in need of extortion. To the thief’s eye, it was a target rich environment. To the soldier’s eye, it was a fortified mountain position with few escape vectors unless you were winged--or had access to airships.

Something else Thorne had learned was that Canterlot was recently besieged via the air. By one single airship. He wondered if he would be able to get an airship the moment he heard the stories. He even began sketching a design for one in his book as the guards began regaling him with the tale of the Storm King and Tempest Shadow.

Canterlot was a varied city to a lot of discerning eyes, yet to his eyes, it was also full of boundless hope. There was arrogance and old hatreds that still stirred, but it held with it a promise of something more. Something more grand and pure. Intangible but well within the hooves of those who could seek out what it was they were hoping to grasp at. There were many pockets lined with bits and while some were eager to keep it to themselves, others weren’t concerned about the material wealth. The ‘better-than-everypony-else’ stance that ponies took was simply a coping mechanism that they had adopted in order to insure their own weakness against a city that threatened to take everything.

And they had good reason to fear the city. At the pinnacle was royalty. Two ‘alicorns’. Thorne had gotten over the existential crisis upon learning that ‘alicorns’ possessed incredible magic--meaning a horn--and a pair of beautiful wings. They also had the third trait relegated to earth ponies: strength. They were a combination of all three and that was the reason they sat at the peak of pony society.

Thorne had been correct. He was about to throw a punch at gods. Only now did the irony sit in and he had not found it so amusing.

Still, he was disgusted. He couldn’t shake the feeling. He had seen the pinnacle and the pit in one fell swoop and he understood it. But it didn’t do anything to alleviate the feeling. They had places like that back home--every major city was this grand show of ‘everything good, everything bad’. This one was no different.

Yet it felt different. Not because of the denizens, but because of how similar it was. And he surmised that was why he couldn’t shake the feeling he had. He had already notched off his belt with his talk with Page Turner that ponies and humans were similar, but now it was getting to a level of discomfort. But with that revelation, he also came to understand that this world was full of hope and harmony--something easily seen. It had charm and style, but it also hid old scars. Scars that were easily picked at.

In truth, Thorne, as he walked the city, came to the conclusion that this world was much like his own and that is what disgusted him. That these weren’t just animals. Nor were they humans. But they deserved the respect that he would give to humanity. Cunning and cruel monsters humanity could be, but full of potential for more. Creatures that deserved to be saved and safe-guarded. A race that constantly took missteps but tried to do better with each attempt forward.

Now, looking at the grand city of Canterlot, Thorne could see the same traits in the ponies.

He stopped in his walk through the market street that was a lower rung but led to the castle proper. He decided to lean against a lamp post and just pony-watch for a moment. He wanted that feeling to fade. Upon seeing the citizenry going about their days, it made the feeling worsen. It made him grit his teeth.

‘It just reminds me of home. That is all it is. If I looked hard enough, I’m sure I could find shady business dealings. Crimes. Criminals. This city isn’t perfect like they said. Nothing is… They’re simply stuck-up ponies going about their business. They’re stuck-up because they’re in a city that turns you into such a thing. You have to be in order to survive.’

His mind began to race. He shut his eyes and began to contemplate.

‘Maybe it’s the overabundance of magic. Maybe it’s the mountain air. Lack of clothing? The bright whites of the city? The odd but colorful spires? My devious nature getting the better of me and wanting to go thieving? Maybe--!’

The sudden cry of a foal brought him from his ruminations. He shot his eyes about, glancing at where the cry had originated. A second shout brought his eyes up. Then there was a mild panic of ponies that were scrambling to try and help, but couldn’t find the source.

It looked as though a small bat was plummeting to the ground. Immediately the human sprung into action, his golden eyes going from the ground where the thing was speeding toward to the small thing itself. In a mad dash, Thorne took off.

He leapt over ponies with steady breathing. Footfalls slammed into the concrete with enough force to launch him forward with fervor. He jumped up onto a table and began to sprint over the open café area, disturbing the meals of several who were awestruck by the sight of a falling foal. Several pegasi had begun to try and catch the screaming blue ball of fur and bat-wings, but each attempt was met with either them being too slow or their target being too panicked.

Thorne managed to land and roll off the last table in the row and continue his marathon sprint. The analytics in his mind told him that he was going to have to dive for it or he would be too slow. A brief flash of a broken child’s body splattered against the pavement appeared in his head and his inner monologue snarled in rage.

‘You can make it damn it! Come on!’ He spurred himself onward.

In the final feet before the ground and Thorne’s dash, the human sprung off the pavement with as much force as he could muster, spreading his arms out in front of him. The midnight blue blur was suddenly grabbed in the human's arms and brought swiftly to the chest of the soaring creature, moments before the foal hit the ground. Now, instead, Thorne was continuing his momentum.

He tucked himself into a ball around the small foal, protecting it with every fiber of his being as his human body became a fleshy shield against the concrete. Thorne skidded onto his shoulder and then went rolling several times down the slope until the momentum ceased. He groaned out in pain but swiftly sat up.

In his arms was a crying bat. Or what he thought was a bat, until he got a less world-spun look at the foal. It was a batpony. Thorne instinctively hugged the foal.

“Shh, shh. It’s okay. You’re okay. No need for tears.” He stroked the mane of the little colt, his eyes starting to look at those gathered. Soft gasps and mutterings began to erupt from the ponies that gathered around. Thorne sighed and looked back down to the child. “I know it was scary but you’re alright. You can stop the waterworks. Seriously, kid, this is my only change of clothes right now…”

Thorne gave a soft chuckle. Surprisingly that got a mild snort from the midnight blue foal in his arms. Thorne released him from the hug and shifted slightly, wincing in pain. His eyes looked about one more time. Finally, something began to budge through the crowd, shoving ponies aside.

“Let me through! That’s my son!” A mare cried out. The crowd parted and out stepped another batpony, this one decked in midnight blue armor. She had a perfect Canterlot accent, despite the fangs that were presently protruding from her muzzle. She was ashen gray in her coat--a thick coating that was probably torture in the summer heat. Hidden under the armor was her short mane, though flakes of gold peered from under the helmet that obscured it. A glance over her frame showed no cutie mark for the armor covering it, but her tail was obsidian black with gold at the tip. Thorne had a brief flash of ‘frosted-tips’ go sailing through his mind, making him smirk. A pair of sunglasses protected her eyes, though from her face, Thorne could read the distraught mother’s panic like a book.

Thorne noticed the little one in his arms also had a pair on. “Momma!” The colt shouted and his mother came rushing to the foal that sat in Thorne’s lap. Once he felt confident, he stepped out and the two embraced. Thorne, however, sat there. “Anypony a medic? I could use a touch up… That hurt…”

Another pony stepped forward and smiled, lighting their horn and touching it to Thorne’s mildly bleeding shoulder. At that, the mother looked to Thorne and nodded. “Thank you so much, Thorne.”

“Ah, my reputation follows me. Makes my heart sing in joy knowing that everypony reads the paper,” Thorne said with a soft smile. “So what happened, if I might ask? You look like a royal guard, but uh… Night version?”

The mare laughed. “Night Guard is correct… My son and I were on our way to the castle after being woken up so early.”

Thorne gave another twitch and a glance to the pony casting the cantrip. A rather rough-and-tumble construction worker stallion that looked like the reason he knew a medical cantrip was because of on-site mishaps. The human nodded in appreciation, giving a soft ‘thanks’ before looking back to the mother-son pair. “Hmm. Night dwellers, huh. Explains the bat-like appearance. And the thick looking sunglasses.”

The mother nodded. “The sun is harsh. And we were flying to the castle when a strong breeze knocked him off. He isn’t a strong flier yet.”

Thorne rolled his shoulders as the cantrip finished. He stood and dusted himself off with a grunt. “Well. Just glad nopony was seriously hurt. Try to be careful, yeah?” His glance went back up the path to the castle. The feeling was returning now that the adrenaline had run its course. “I’m needed in the castle too. So if you’ll excuse me. The letter made it sound like they wanted to see me as swiftly as possible.”

With that, Thorne gave a slight bow and began back up the street, leaving all the ponies staring at the man who just dove to save a foal without so much as a complaint to the pain he had caused himself.

The castle was a strange affair. The moment he was allowed inside, he felt that knot in his stomach slowly unwind. As if the castle was somehow calling him and beckoning him inside. It had a strange cleansing effect on him and his mind. He would have found it disturbing, but all he could think of was how oddly calming it was.

In truth, he thought the moment he set foot inside he would be under a mental assault. He thought his curse mark would burn with vengeance, telling him to fulfill his mission. But that was the farthest thing from the truth. Not only was he welcomed physically, he was welcomed mentally. Something he chalked up to the inherent magic that seemed to pour from every brick.

Upon arriving, he was greeted and told that he had a room waiting for him for him to freshen himself up within. News that took him by little surprise, but it was welcomed. He knew that they would treat him like a guest--it’s what the letter entailed. Though his encounter with his body becoming intimately familiar with the pavement, it was more seen as a gift than something to be expected.

One he did not take for granted as he was escorted back along the long and winding hallways. He thought he’d meet dignitaries or nobility upon his walk, yet all he was met with was guards, silence, and marble.

He had thought that the castle would be gaudy. That it would reek of social status. Yet, it was simplistic. Charmingly, so. It was bare bones. Only containing the essential. He surmised that the only reason this was a castle was because of the fortification it provided. Something intuitive told him that the pony, or rather, ponies, behind this castle, only had such a castle because it was requested of them. It spoke volumes of either their society, or these benevolent rulers. He didn’t know which was which, yet.

Once the escort to the room was over, he gave a quick nod to the assistant, telling the stallion that he would be ready in about thirty minutes. He just needed a bath and perhaps a chance to dust off his toga. With that, the human excused himself behind closed doors. He didn’t take the time to acquiesce to the room. He broke his own standard in protocols in not checking the room and not combing over every inch. He just wanted that knot to untie itself fully and to see these ‘gods’ for himself.

He found the bath and thanked the gods for that.

“Announcing Lord Thorne!” The guard who stood at the door shouted into the throne room. All the guards stood at attention as Princess Celestia and Princess Luna arose in greetings. The crier bowed and stepped aside.

A side glance was shared between the two as they stood upon the dais. Thorne entered, freshly washed feet stepping onto the regal rug that went to the pedestal the two mares stood on. He began to walk with all the practiced professionalism of a noble gentleman.

Then the ambient magic in the air snapped.

The room seemed to fall away. The guards all vanished. Instead, Thorne was left walking upon a floating carpet that remained stiff despite the scenery being in space. Before him stood two regal mares, manes and tails flowing in an unseen wind.

One was a pure white with a large sun on her flank. All around her a golden aura seemed to shine and twinkle like diamonds. It was as if she had a halo of golden rays. Hope and warmth radiated from her presence--and Thorne felt like he was standing before a mother. A strict but loving mother, one he had never known yet was somehow familiar. She was accented with golden slippers encapsulating each hoof. A majestic purple gem rested in the center of a golden plate that rested upon her breast and wrapped around her withers. Upon her head stood a tall golden crown.

Pink eyes stood out as her aurora of a mane and tail billowed around her. It held every color imaginable and seemed to glimmer as the light touched it. Behind her in the tapestry of space stood the sun. Her Sun. It burned and scorched all that dare tread too close. Thorne felt the rays penetrate into his body, igniting his blood. It felt as though it was cleanse him with fire, but somehow, he would remain. That he would be reborn.

The other was dark blue. Shorter, younger, more youthful in appearance--if such a thing was possible. Teal blue eyes stared sternly at the human who approached. They were cold and judgmental, but were understanding in their own way. He felt an ethereal presence that tried to call him into a slumber. From her, the temperature seemed to drop, replacing the burning rays of the sun with ice in the veins. Somehow she had corralled a nebula of the cosmos, enraptured it and pinned to her body. Stars went streaking across the mane, and then followed into the tail. They then went streaking into the space that stood all around them.

Around her withers was a blacker-than-black plate that held a crescent moon at the center of her breast. It somehow absorbed the light around it and funneled it into the moon, making it blindly bright. Crystalline slippers adorned each of her hooves, shards of starlight etched into the design. On her head rested a smaller crown that her sisters, but it held the same weight of responsibility. Behind her was the very same moon that hung in the night sky. It was un-obscured, hiding none of the blemishes--rather, it displayed them proudly. But every moon had its dark side; this one was no different. The same could be said of the inky blot that consumed this mare’s flank. Yet resting inside of that blot sat the moon, in its crescent phase, untouched and unburdened by the darkness surrounding it.

Thorne continued his approach. His stride remained undeterred. Each step sent ripples through reality. This was their domain, but an intruder had broken through the gates. They had allowed the monster to get inside--welcomed it. The serene scene of the two rulers was promptly disrupted. Though they three were in the vacuum of space in those moments, the sound of his bare feet slapping against something echoed.

It was wet, this sound. The cosmic sky seemed to darken. The light of stars began to dim and eventually blink out of existence. Then it began to rain. It first began as a trickle and then turned into a drizzle. The cosmic bodies of planets within the solar system all crumbled into dust around them, washed away in the rain. The Sun and Moon stood resolute in defiance, but they were subject to the horrors that followed. They noticed the rain was hot and smelled of copper.

Each step was soaked in blood, leaving a print that stained the carpet a deeper red. A torpid current flowed about the man, the rain beginning to dance to an unseen phantasmal tune. It wasn’t until they stared into those golden eyes did they ignite it. Midnight blue and golden hues of lightning struck from their gazes as eyes met, his gaze returning a reddish-gold volley. A torrent erupted, spawning a crimson cyclone. The hurricane roared in desperation, begging to be released from an unknown torture. At the center stood Thorne.

It wasn’t until the human stopped did the scene fade. He knelt before the Princesses, a fist going into the carpet with a deliberate motion. His head lowered in supplication.

“Your Majesties,” he said, breaking the palpable silence. “I am Thorne.” His head rose and he looked at the two. He smiled with the weight of his sins present on those lips. “What can this humble stranger do for you?”

He finally felt comfortable. He didn’t understand why, but his lingering unease had vanished.

14. A Bargain Struck

‘What the absolute fuck was that about?’ Thorne thought to himself as he kept his smile upon his face. The lingering unease was gone, but now it was replaced with sheer panic. He was keeping his face from revealing what he had witnessed. ‘Fucking magic is bullshit I swear. Did anyone else see that shit?! We were in fucking space! What the hell was with all that blood?!’ A bead of sweat went running off his temple and down to his chin before falling to the carpet.

“Guards? Would you please excuse yourself?” The soothing motherly voice of Celestia rang off the throne room.

All of the guards looked at one another with hesitation before bowing and heading to the door. Once it was shut, they were all alone. Only this time it was the three of them in a very real throne room.

Luna lost the regal pose immediately. Her horn went aglow and she began inspecting the room. Celestia just smiled down at Thorne, motioning for him to rise with a hoof. He did as requested, his glances going to Luna every now and again. “That… wasn’t Discord.” The dark blue mare stated.

Celestia tittered. “I had a feeling it wasn’t. The distinct lack of comedy gags made that apparent.”

Thorne blinked. ‘Time to gamble!’ “So… uh… I didn’t just hallucinate all that, did I? We all saw that? The blood? The lightning? The sun and moon? Us in space?... Wait, did the guards see it?!” His body turned, looking back toward the doors.

“I don’t think they did, no. But that was… intriguing.” Celestia said as she climbed down from the dais and went to Thorne. Upon hearing the hoofsteps, the man turned back. He immediately took a defensive pose which made the solar princess recoil and flinch away. Luna on the other hand, seemed wary of even approaching.

“This went from rather regal and formal to not in a magic-made-manifest split second. Why order the guards away? Why are you approaching…? You saw all the blood. You must know I’m--”

“A soldier? Someone who served his nation. Yes, I know.”

‘Did she…? Does she?’ Thorne’s mind began a lot of assuming, making him take a step back.

“A mercenary and someone who wishes to be a ‘rapscallion rogue’ as you put it eloquently in the papers,” Celestia said as she steeled her resolve and began approaching again. “I don’t know what caused the scene that just played out, but it is all very interesting, isn’t it? Yet out of all the blood, I didn’t see any malice. Did you, Luna?”

Luna simply raised an eyebrow. She sighed and stepped forward to meet her sister’s approach. “No. No malice. None of it directed at us or anypony. Or rather, wasn’t directed at us or anypony yet.”

Thorne smirked at that. “Clever.”

Celestia stood tall enough to meet Thorne’s gaze. Her pink eyes met with his golden and they shared a stare for a few moments. His smirk was wiped from his face as he got lost in the irises' sea of pink.

“Something within the world wanted you to know what you were meeting. It also wanted to inform us a bit about yourself,” Luna broke the silence that had formed between the two.

“Magic,” Thorne exhaled. “Fickle yet telling. Seems to me like I disturb the balance of this world. It wants to make it known how much of a threat I am, apparently.”

“Are you a threat?” Luna pressed.

“Perhaps.” Thorne answered honestly, his gaze finally breaking from Celestia. The moment he did break the stare, he was suddenly hugged by a pure white wing. The action caught him off guard and made him stiffen. He didn’t recoil away, but it put him on edge.

“Sister…?”

“You’ve been through much, haven’t you?” Celestia said in a worried tone. “And now you find yourself in a new world with strange creatures and strange abilities. But you keep seeing yourself as the monster.”

Thorne blinked. ‘Okay that’s unsettling…’ “For your next trick, you’re going to tell me something personal about my family life, aren’t you? Not going to lie, the feathers are nice. Very plush. But mind letting me go? Not that I don’t like it, just unused to this. Buy a guy dinner first, yeah?”

Celestia gave a soft chuckle and pulled away. “Well, you are a guest. Dinner does come with you staying here.”

“Staying here?”

Luna stepped in. “For the time being, yes. You don’t have a home, no income… And from the looks of it, no clothing.”

“What’s the catch?” Thorne deadpanned.

“Clever,” Luna returned with a smirk. “We’ll be assigning one of my thestrals to accompany you--”

“A babysitter! How fun.” He groaned. “I should expect that, however…”

“Of course. Secondly, you’ll have access to tailors, the library, the gardens, and the armory.”

“Armory? Why?”

“Because the second part is that we request your services.” Celestia butted into the conversation with a cheerful smile.

“Okay,” he said, drawing out the vowels with a confused tone. “But why?”

“We’ve gotten reports from the Crystal Empire that a ravenous Ursa Major has been tearing through the winter wastes and the ponies that inhabit those areas are getting desperate. Tempest Shadow was sent to assist, but she’s finding it difficult as well.” Luna answered.

‘Tempest Shadow… Wait.’ “The pony that had all of you at her hooves?”

“Oh so you know of her. Well good. While I wouldn’t say we were at her hooves--”

“Oh come on, she had you all dead to rights. You all literally got saved because the Storm King is an idiot. Trust me, I heard the story from your guards. It was a long train ride. Side thought: Can I get an airship? Does she know of where I could get one?”

The two looked at one another and let a guffaw. “An airship, sister! He wants an airship!” Luna cried out as Celestia covered her muzzle with a wing to hide her laughter. “We offer shelter, clothing, even armor and knowledge, and he requests an airship!” The two mares finally fell over with laughter, leaving Thorne standing there with squinted eyes.

“Fine, fine, laugh it up. I’m seriously going to get one. Someday. But before that, you two wanted to hire me to clear out something called an ‘Ursa Major’, yeah? Sounds like a big bear.” Thorne stated as he crossed his arms. “I’ll need a month to prepare. And I take it that armory access comes with access to smiths, yeah?”

The two alicorns took a moment to regain their composure before rising up. Celestia cleared her throat. “Sorry about that. We expected this meeting to go several different ways, but this certainly wasn’t the way we thought it would go. First the magic leaves us both rather confused, and now talks of acquiring an airship.” She gave a little giggle. “But yes, it comes with access to blacksmiths. A month, though?”

Thorne nodded. “I’ll need time to study, modify, and experiment. I’d honestly like a little more time, but I won’t abuse my gracious hosts. Plus I am on a time table as it stands. I need to get to the Crystal Empire anyway, so it works out in my favor.” He held up his mechanical arm. “I was told the Empire has magically charged crystals in abundance so I could perhaps modify my arm to use them as a power source.”

Luna nodded sagely at that. “Indeed. While we could get some here, it is better that you seek out the crystal ponies for more information on it. Plus their knowledge would be helpful in adjusting that arm of yours.”

Celestia sighed. “A month, however, is stretching the limits. While I think they could stave off the Ursa for that long, it worries me.”

Thorne brought his mechanical arm up and rubbed his chin. “You truly care about your ponies…” he said aloud. Though he realized he let the words flow from his mouth and immediately cursed himself mentally for doing it. He cleared his throat, “Even when they are under another banner.”

“Princess Cadence is my niece. While the Crystal Empire stands as an Empire, it is still a part of our domain. An ally that we would never abandon,” Celestia rebuked his words with a stern tone.

“Ah, one of those situations. It’s a part of your kingdom while it still stands on its own hooves, then. I see, I see,” Thorne ran the fake fingers over his growing five o’clock shadow, letting them slide up and down over the stubble as he inspected the two rulers. “You two are awfully friendly. I mean, this entire encounter has been… odd. That aside, I want to meet this ‘companion’ you mentioned, Luna.”

Celestia was the first to remark before Luna could respond, “We’re friendly with you because you haven’t been unfriendly. That and we excused the guards and dignitaries for this meeting. We wanted you to feel comfortable.”

Thorne gave her a flat look. “You leave yourselves vulnerable to a stranger to keep to your ideals of friendship and harmony.”

“In order to receive trust, one must give trust.” Luna spoke, that judgmental stare of hers breaking into one of wisdom that surpassed her appearance. “As far as that ‘companion’, I shall go get her. Excuse me a moment,” Luna bowed out and stepped away.

‘Her? Well I suppose I’ll have someone to tease. I always enjoy a good blush.’

“This encounter certainly has been strange. You’ll find our world can act out on its own,” Celestia remarked as she went around Thorne, inspecting him. His eyes followed her, his head having to turn in order to keep her in his vision. “But my sister is correct. We put a lot of trust in you, a stranger. And as this meeting has shown us, you’re dangerous. Perhaps even a monster.”

The word felt like a dagger in his chest. That knot that had vanished suddenly came back. “Then why trust me? Why act so friendly? Why give me access to the castle and even weapons?”

“Because we wanted you to feel safe. You wouldn’t go into detail about your family life or past. You hide things, Thorne, that much is easily seen. But how much do you hide away?” Celestia spoke in a gentle tone, but Thorne suddenly felt the heat of the sun once more piercing his frame. “Luna is incapable of accessing your dreams and I fear you’ve wrapped yourself up in so many protective measures, you don’t know what is true and what is a lie anymore.”

Thorne scoffed. “I know what is true and what is a lie, don’t worry. And I don’t know anything about the dream stuff. Way over my head. If she cannot access them, that sounds like an incompatibility problem.”

Celestia sighed and shook her head. “When you’re ready to talk, you’ll always be safe here, Thorne. I want you to know that. Luna will tell you as much as well.”

‘I’ll never be safe. Stop trying to earn my favor...’ He thought to himself as the knot subsided. ‘You’re smart, Celestia. You know how to play this game all too well. I appreciate the challenge. Just wish I didn’t have magical bullshit working against me constantly…’

The doors swung open again, causing both necks to whip around. Luna stood tall and proud. She inhaled to announce the mare at her side but before she could, there was an audible gasp from beside the smaller mare. Suddenly a midnight blue blur went shooting off, the hooves connecting with the carpet before leaping into the air and flying toward Thorne. He had just gotten turned around fully to see the doors opening as his eyes caught a glimpse of the miniature rocket that was now aiming at him. It would be a matter of seconds before he felt hooves go connecting into his chest, knocking the wind out of him and sending him stumbling back.

“I’ve been hit! Man down! Man down! Medic!” Thorne breathlessly cried out, falling to his knees. He gasped for air. “Oh I think I got a broken rib! Or maybe several!” He wrapped his arms around the furry creature that had assailed him and chuckled. “That actually didn’t hurt too badly, but you’re lucky I didn’t go swatting you away. Also lucky I recognized you, kid.”

The thestral colt in his arms shuffled slightly and was set down by Thorne. “How’d you recognize me?”

Thorne had to pause a moment. He didn’t see the sunglasses on the colt and now he could see golden cat-like eyes staring up at him in wonder. “Well, I did save you earlier today. And Luna told me that I was going to have someone accompanying me in the future. After hearing your mother saying she was heading to the castle, I put two and two together.” He reached down and ruffled the colt’s ashen-white mane.

Luna had stepped close in the time the two spoke, accompanied by the mother of the colt. The same ashen gray mare but without her regal armor. Instead now she just wore a black vest with a stark white undershirt. He even noticed two golden loops in one ear. She was young by the looks of it--or at least trying to appear young. He was also able to see her cutie mark.

‘Looks like a nightshade flower with wings sprouting from the stem…’

“This is Nightshade Wind. Though, she prefers to go simply by ‘Silver’.” Luna said, motioning to the mare.

“Silver, eh? Guessing because of the steel-like fur coat. Rather beautiful if I must say.” ‘Resist the ‘hi-ho Silver’ jokes, she wouldn’t get them anyway…’ Thorne’s eyes continued to scrutinize the now slightly blushing mare. He noticed a hint of metal around the tips of her folded onyx wings. ‘Weapons on the wings. Their wings would be more muscular and pliable than feather since it looks like a bat wing. Still a dangerous game using your method of flight as a weapon…’ His eyes then fell on hers. That same cat-like appearance. Both of them stared at one another, getting lost in each other’s eyes. ‘Gold. That’s where her son gets it. His was a bit duller, but hers... Pure as can be.’

“Gold…” she said in a hushed tone, still enthralled by his appraising stare. Luna cleared her throat, snapping Silver from her daze. “Oh! Right! Sorry, Nightmother.”

‘Nightmother? Oh ho, there is a story there.’

Silver bowed slightly. “Thank you, Lord Thorne, for saving my son. His name is Dusk Slicer and he should be introducing himself, apologizing for causing you harm, and thanking you for saving his life.” She rose and shot a glance to her colt who darted over to her side and stood at attention before giving a gracious bow.

Thorne waved his hand and stood up, giving a bow in return. “Just Thorne works. And it was nothing. I heard a child crying for help and instincts took over.” There was a purr-like ‘Oh?’ from behind him, making him turn his head to see Celestia smirking. Luna even gave a snicker, covering her muzzle with a wing. Thorne simply rolled his eyes and looked back to the two thestrals. “I’m hoping to get to know you better, Silver, since we’ll be accompanying one another by order of Princess Luna. Though I have to ask, is Dusk going to be joining us on a dangerous mission?”

Silver sighed. “I’ve no one to watch over him. He will be joining us, but Princess Luna has assured me that Princess Cadence and Prince Shining Armor can look after him in the castle for a few days.”

Thorne raised an eyebrow. “I… see.” ‘No father, huh, kid?’ His gaze went to Dusk for a moment. He looked back to Celestia and Luna. “They have a child, yes? Princess Cadence and Prince Shining Armor? We won’t be imposing on them, will we?”

Celestia shook her head. “I’ve already written to them and received a reply. They should be able to handle Dusk. Flurry is still a yearling and will take up most of their time, thus--”

“Thus Dusk must be on his best behavior so as not to disturb the two or I’ll see a fitting punishment delivered to him,” Silver interrupted.

Thorne let a soft chortle. “A loving but strict mother. Good. I was worried. Well then, I suppose that settles it.” He held out his hand to the mare. She put her hoof in the hand and Thorne shook it. “I look forward to working with you, Silver. And you too, kid.” He smirked at Dusk who lit up with glee. “For now,” Thorne let go of the hoof and turned to face the princesses. He put his right hand to his heart and his left behind his back, bowing deeply to them. “My Ladies. Your Majesties. I formally accept this contract. No need to put it in ink, you have my word that I will carry out this mission for the crown. I shall see this ‘Ursa Major’ put to rest.”

He rose up, garnering the attention of everypony there as his casual nature shifted into noble professionalism. “If you wish to hire me for any other services, please do not hesitate. Though, if they involve... “ his glance went sideways to the child for a moment then back to the princesses, “Dealing with ponies, you’ll need to be informed of my three rules of work.”

“I doubt we’ll need you to take care of somepony, Thorne.” Celestia’s tone was flat, almost appalled he offered such a thing.

Thorne merely chuckled. “Of course. Offer is there if you need it. But I think this concludes our meeting. For now, I really want to go speak with some tailors about clothing. A toga is charming, but I miss pants. And shoes.”

“We actually have someone in mind who would love to design you some clothing. I recently got a letter from Princess Twilight expressing her interest in meeting you and that includes her friends. One of them is a rather talented clothier.” Celestia beamed with pride.

“Glad that I’m a stallion in demand,” Thorne remarked with a cheeky grin. “Very well. I take it they’ll be here in a few days? Gives me time to do some sketching, work on gear, and read up on this world. For now, I do wish to excuse myself. Do you all have punching bags out in a training area?”

Luna blinked at that. “We do, actually. Out near the barracks they have dummies set up to practice on. Why?”

“Just want to work up a sweat before dinner. I’m assuming I’m going to be requested to join at the dinner table.”

Celestia smirked at that. “Of course. Though do bathe before coming into the dining hall. Do you need help finding your way around? I can have someone--”

Thorne raised his hand. “I’m good. I like to figure it out for myself. If you don’t mind. Besides, I’m sure Silver will be behind me whether I want it or not.” He deadpanned.

Celestia and Luna looked at one another. Luna shook her head. “Untrusting as can be. She wasn’t going to be spying on you, Thorne. She is here to help you. Isn’t that right, Silver?”

Silver stood at attention as Luna addressed her. “Yes, Nightmother. No spying, simply helping and looking after.”

‘Sounds a lot like spying.’ Thorne thought. He shrugged and turned to take his leave. “If you need me, I’ll be outside.”

It was becoming late afternoon. By the position of the sun, Thorne figured it would be around four. He stood outside the barracks of the guards--those he saw as the ‘day guard’. He had no idea where the ‘night guard’ would be stationed. He had the amusing thought of them being bats thus they must be inside a cavern. Still, Canterlot and the surrounding mountains were large. A huge population of guards must have been in reserve in order to serve as protection for the city. The city itself was large for it somehow perched upon a mountain.

The barracks themselves were large and spacious--towering at least four stories. It was off to the side and built more toward the mountain as to be away from the castle proper, but it was decorated with the same colors. Marble white, gold trim, purple tints here and there. Several windows littered the building’s face, each one with a set of curtains. Many were open and several ponies that were off-duty were now intrigued by the human that had beset upon the training yard.

In front of the barracks stood a running track in an oval that encircled the yard. The yard itself held several training dummies for several different styles of combat. Wooden cutouts of strange looking monsters and beasts for catching bladed weapons. Archery targets were off at set intervals. Up on long poles were targets that were meant for pegasi spears.

What had earned Thorne’s ire were the punching bags. One that he had picked out that was solid looking--one that hadn’t been bucked and kicked at with hooves for too long. Or rather, one that appeared large, heavy, and meant for stout ponies to test their strength upon. He had moved it to an area away from the other guards that were currently honing their reflexes against unmoving targets, though they were distracted as the newcomer to the field treated it like he belonged there.

He fixed it to a pole in order to let it hang and sway. He backed away from the bag and inhaled deeply, trying to find his center. He undid the toga and shuffled the covering around his chest down. He placed the two books he carried inside of the chest on the ground, putting a rock atop the stack so they weren’t subject to the wind. Now that his torso was revealed to the gentle heat of the sun, he tied off the cloth covering him in a kilt and began to stretch.

The knot had returned to his stomach. The moment he stepped outside of the castle, it all came back. Something about the city continued to disturb him. The more it gnawed at him, the more enraged he became. Even as he stood there trying to center himself, he felt his mind tugging him in different directions.

‘Why does this feeling persist!? I felt nothing in Vanhoover, yet now in Canterlot it eats at me.”

Thorne put his left hand behind his back and took a step into the bag’s space, swinging a hard right hook into it. It connected with a solid smack, sending the dummy gently swaying. The blows began one after another, his right fist seeking out different points to beat against. It started as a solid hook then went into fierce jabs.

‘That magic… What the fuck. It practically gave me away and everyone fucking saw it! And then Celestia just treats me like a fucking friend?! Fuck you, you fucking horse!’

Another powerful punch from his right hand went into the target. This time, he followed it up by spinning on his left foot, his right pushing hard against the ground. It came rocketing in, his shin connecting. The bag absorbed most of the momentum, allowing him to pull the leg down and follow up with more jabs.

‘And Luna. At least Luna was wise enough to keep her distance. She knows. She fucking knows! That was her that tried to assault my dreams. That’s why she put one of her little bats on me. I wasn’t born yesterday, damn it. Stop underestimating me!’

The punching got louder and louder as he threw them faster and harder with more reckless abandon. There wasn’t a style to it any more. He was simply giving into his anger.

‘You give me the keys to the fucking castle and you better believe I’m going to use them. Weapons. Armor. Knowledge. Send me to take care of a fucking bear like I’m a fucking game warden. How fucking dare you!’

The man began to pant, sweat pouring from his body. He threw his entire weight into the motions, sending a hail of blows into the sturdy dummy. He started to growl and break into grunts, predator-like eyes locked and tunneling on breaking the sandbag. His legs started to swiftly be brought up to throw knees, the movements becoming more animalistic and savage as he unleashed his wrath.

All he heard was ringing in his ears and the sound of his weight striking the dummy. He didn’t hear the hoofsteps.

‘This fucking feeling. Why?! I feel like I’m about to come under fucking assault! Gods! Damn! It! Is it the mark? Come on, Thorne, think! I should be over this feeling. I felt the same thing in several other large cities back home, but I quickly got over that! And why did I feel so safe and secure in the palace?! Not just fucking physically but mentally?! It was like a godsdamn sanctuary!

Is this place trying to tell me something? Trying to warn me of something? Someone?! Is it trying to warn others of me?! What did that solar bitch mean when she said ‘the world acts on its own’?! What is it?!’

“Thorne…?” the sweet tone of Silver called out. Thorne, however, did not hear. He continued his assault. “Thorne!” She said a little louder.

‘What do you want of me?! What is it that you need from me?! What do you fucking want damn it! I shouldn’t be here! I shouldn’t exist! I shouldn’t be alive! What more will you drag out of me before this ordeal is fucking done?! Huh?! Answer me, something! Somebody!’

“Thorne!” Silver yelled out.

At that, Thorne brought his left hand out and roared at the dummy. His wrist flicked toward his body, mechanical fingers forming a fist. A gleam of steel erupted from his prosthetic. “What do you want?!” He bellowed out as he slammed the blade home. He put enough force behind the blow that the dummy snapped the rope tether. He and it went tumbling over, Thorne tackling the target to the ground.

Everypony in the vicinity recoiled back at the human who had shouted in a fit of rage. Thorne had pinned the target under him, the man resting on his knees. His shoulders rose and fell as he tried to catch his breath. Thick beads of sweat rolled off his chin and nose, falling to the lifeless target. He suddenly snapped out of it, his eyes going to his left hand. He withdrew his arm from the cut cloth and sand. As grains of the fine substance fell away from his hand, he stared down at the extended blade, the implications slowly sinking into his mind. It shimmered in the dimming sunlight, its stunningly bright silver easily seen against the carbon black polymer arm.

He let his arms and shoulders go limp. He rolled his head back and closed his eyes, drawing a deep breath. He sat there a moment, counting off all the mistakes he had just made by giving into his anger. Thorne finally let the breath out after a minute of silence.

“I’m sorry, Silver.” He let his head go listless, his cheek falling onto his right shoulder. He looked at the mare as she stood there in mild shock. “Should probably get used to me saying that. I don’t know what you want to say or why you’re here, but would it mind waiting? Please. I need to be back inside the castle. Back in my room. Would you escort me there?”

The sudden listless tone in his voice brought another shock. His eyes were dull. Silver stared at the man, a hoof raised toward her body as if ready to turn and run. What had been an animated stallion now was a shell upon realizing he raised his voice and mutilated the target. She swallowed hard and nodded. “S-Sure…”

Thorne shifted and rose up. “Thanks,” he offered as he brought the mechanical hand back up to inspect it. With a simple twitch of his wrist the blade went shooting back under the housing from which it emerged. He muttered something about needing oil before scooping his journals and motioning to her to lead the way.

Silver nodded again and turned, the thestral in her shades now leading the disheveled human back toward the castle. “So what was that about…? If I may ask?”

Thorne grunted. “I let my anger get away from me. My thoughts started running rampant. I got consumed.”

“Do you at least feel better?” The mare looked over her shoulder at the man as he kept pace easily.

“I probably will after a cold shower,” Thorne stated bluntly, the annoyance simmering in his voice.

Silver sighed and looked back ahead. Back inside the castle after a couple hundred feet and Thorne felt more relaxed. She watched as the man let the tension from his shoulders, her shades slipping off as they came into the darkened structure. Candles were gentler on the eyes than the sun. Again she took the lead, escorting him back toward his room in silence. Every now and again she’d hear him mutter something, breathe in, then sigh loudly. She counted every time he did it on the way to the room he was claiming--a total of twenty times.

“What’s gotten into you, Thorne?” She asked. “You’re not the same man I met earlier today it feels.”

Thorne shrugged and stepped inside his room. “Maybe it was all a mask and the mask finally slipped off,” he begrudgingly stated. “Feel free to come in. You had something you wanted to tell me.”

Silver stepped into the lavishly furnished room. “I was really just there to thank you again. And to tell you that dinner was going to be happening within the hour.”

Thorne peered at the window. Dusk was swiftly approaching. ‘Had I really been out there that long? It must be near seven…’ He nodded at the thestral. “Thanks. And it was no problem, again. I did what came naturally.”

“It’s admirable.”

“It’s just doing my duty.”

Silver smirked. “A soldier through and through.”

Thorne gave her a sideways glance as he busied himself going through the room, making mental notes. His musings brought him to a writer’s desk. He opened a drawer and slipped the two journals inside. “Of course,” he said with a sigh. “Anything else? Or can we continue this riveting topic over dinner?”

Silver bounced her head back and forth in thought, debating something. “Hmm. Sure. Celestia, Luna, and I, will see you at dinner.”

Thorne nodded and waited, eyes watching her leave. Once the door was shut, he went collapsing into the chair at the desk, the wood creaking under his weight.

‘Get it together. Endure and adapt.’

The dining room was a rather lavish affair. Large and long table with chairs flanking each side. At the center was a delicate flower bouquet of various flowers. It was divided into two, clearly meant to hint at the diarchy. One side held sunflowers amidst pink tulips, small red lilies, and green poms. It brought about thoughts of summer and the day. On the other side of the vase was lavender, several blue delphiniums, and large white lilies as if representing stars. Under the vase, the table cloth was a silken white that lay against a deeply stained wooden table.

At the head of the table sat Celestia, while at the other end was meant for Luna, though she was beside her sister. Opposite her was Silver. Thorne had chosen to sit next to Silver given Luna’s hesitation and there was no place beside Celestia--though, he would have denied her should she have sat anywhere else. He didn’t want to be next to her. Though inside the castle his rage sat still, he still harbored some of it toward her for being so friendly.

Thorne had placed his prosthetic arm up on the table and was idly drumming his fingers as they waited for the meal to be served. His eyes were on Silver and hers were on his arm. ‘Go on. Rat me out. I know you want to bring it up to your Nightmother.’ He thought to himself.

“Did you manage to get that oil you were talking about?” Silver said, her gaze going from his arm to his face.

The question smacked him in the face like a wet towel. “What…?” He twisted his expression into confusion. “Oil…?”

“Yeah… you were muttering about it and a few other things on the way back to the room. And that thing looks like it has important gears inside of it. How does it work?”

“Oh. Right. Yeah. After that shower I managed to find someone to bring me some machine oil--surprised the shit out of me. Then I realized you have trains and sewing machines and fans and tons of other machines.” Thorne stated, bringing his hand up and flexing the fingers one by one. When his eyes went up, he noticed them all staring at him. “What?”

“Swearing,” Silver reprimanded in a soft whisper.

“Oh fu--I mean. Apologies. I try to keep that under control around people who don’t know me. And I promise not to swear in front of your child. Or any children for that matter. Unless I am in dire straits and really need to let it slip.” Thorne nodded sagely. “Speaking of, where is Dusk?”

Silver let a sigh. “He was exhausted so I put him to bed. Normally we sleep during the day to avoid the heat and brightness. But we were summoned to the castle and it’s technically way past his bedtime. Plus the experience he had… I’m letting him sleep it off. Hoping he doesn’t have a nightmare.”

Luna piped up at that. “I’ll help him if he does, Silver. Do not worry. Did he have anything to eat before slumber?”

The mare shook her head. “He was too tired.” Silver reached over and tapped the arm with a hoof as if testing something. The human raised an eyebrow but allowed it. “So how does it work…?”

Thorne sighed. ‘Hope that kid is okay…’ He shifted in the seat and sat his arm down. On the underside they could see a small screen. Upon tapping it, it lit up. “One second…” He would flick his wrist again, extending the hidden blade. It made everypony jump.

“You have a hidden dagger in that thing?!” Luna exclaimed.

“I may have lost an arm, but now I’ll never be disarmed again. Ha!” Thorne had a smug look. Clearly he was proud of that joke. Celestia actually snickered. It got a look of ‘I can’t believe you’ from her sister. Thorne smirked. “Anyway. This screen acts as a readout for general health regarding its mechanics. It has an onboard computer that can assess itself and check if it’s damaged in places. It’s made of synthetic materials and reinforced plastics on the outside while having a steel shell on the interior. In-between is a layer of fabric that acts as shock absorbers. Basically it’s thick and hard skin with a bit of squish and give. It’s not a real fist or arm by any measure of human standards and can’t withstand me punching someone with it--not for too long, anyway.”

He looked about to a sea of confused faces. Thorne groaned. “Arm made of good fake material, made strong. Not as strong as real arm. Since I lost you all.” He rolled his eyes and chuckled at the stern looks he got for talking at them like a cavepony. “Just know it’s highly advanced stuff from my world. Though you all might be getting close. No idea.” He shrugged.

He brought his left arm closer to Silver to let her admire it. “It’s connected directly into my nervous system and gives me a dull sense of touch.” He extended and flexed his fingers. “There is a special set of sensors in my hand and fingers that allow me to feel and gauge things like I would with my right hand. Can even detect temperature. If I were to take this off, you’d see what it connects into. I’ve got an implant at my elbow that allows me to unplug and remove it--that’s where the nerve connections are.”

He made another wave with his fingers, showing the skin-like substance that covered metal bones. His fingers seemed to be reinforced but leave enough room for the mechanical joints to bend and move much like his other hand.

“As far as the hidden blade, that’s in a hidden compartment that opens when I flex my wrist to a certain breakpoint. Like I said, this hand isn’t made for punching--a backhand would hurt like no tomorrow. I use it to slash and stab but as a last resort.” Thorne flexed his wrist again, drawing the blade back. “My kind often looked down on those with disabilities. I didn’t like that. So I put a dagger in my arm.” He tapped the screen, inspecting the readout and showing it to Silver.

The thestral seemed to be intently curious by the object. “So not going to accidentally stab someone?”

Thorne groaned and brought his arm up. He reached over and placed his hand on her head, forefinger and thumb rubbing at a fuzzier-than-normal-pony ear. “No, Silver. Like I said, it has to be a deliberate motion.” He noticed that she went rigid. A sideways look to Celestia and Luna told him he was doing something taboo. He immediately retracted his hand. “Just to prove a point. Sorry. Forgive me for crossing a boundary.”

Silence lingered in the wake of Thorne’s unintentional faux pas. He put his arm under the table, hiding it away after that show. Celestia coughed and cleared her throat, “Dinner is taking its sweet time.” A soft ‘indeed’ was followed up from Luna. Again the silence took hold.

Several minutes ticked by. When the doors did burst open with a loud ‘bang’, the four jumped in unison. “Dinner is served! Apologies for the wait!” The servant bellowed. Several others came flaunting out, setting dish after dish onto the table. ”We wanted to get something with meat, but had no one to really prepare it properly. But! One of the maids told us that Thorne wished to have a cigar and something stout to drink. That is why it took so long and my sincerest apologies.” The head waiter gave an apologetic bow. Another platter was set next to Thorne and promptly unveiled.

There sat five cigars along with a cigar clipper and a box of matches. Next to that sat a small container of ice, a maple-colored liquid, and a glass. Thorne immediately looked to the two princesses as well as Silver. “You all don’t mind, do you? I can move away if it bothers you.”

“Not at all,” Celestia gave a smile. “I do find it unpleasant, but you look as though you’ve been handed a treasure.”

Thorne went a bit wide-eyed at that and chuckled. “Well I thank you for toughing it out in order to placate my selfishness for a moment. So what is this?” He motioned to the rather ornate bottle.

“That is Las Pegasus Apple Whiskey. They import the apples directly from Apple Family Farms in Ponyville.”

‘Las Pegasus sounds a lot like Las Vegas and I needed a ticket yesterday.’ “Intriguing. Las Pegasus, hmm? Guessing it’s a place with lots of gambling and showmare shows, eh?” He gave a teasing smirk to the waiter who gave a chuckle and a nod. “Well then, let’s taste.”

Thorne reached out and took the glass topper off the bottle. He put two cubes of ice into the glass and poured the whiskey with a practiced motion. He capped it and took hold of the glass, swirling it twice before taking a deep sniff. Satisfied, he took a sip. The man recoiled and grinned. “Dang! That’s good! Can really taste those apples.”

Happy with his drink, he set it down. Next came the cigar. He inspected, sniffed, and then cut. Once between his lips, he struck the match with ease and began to light up. He shook the match out, set it down, and leaned back in his chair. He visibly relaxed, sinking into the wood, and closed his eyes. His right hand fingers caressed the tobacco-filled cylinder and pulled it from his mouth. A sigh of smoke escaped him as his eyes fluttered open. “Oh thank you for this gift. It’s a bad habit, I know, and I don’t do it often, but this… This is nice.”

He sat there and lingered in the moment as the mares around him all dug into their dinner. His food could wait. He was hungry, but the comfort of a good drink and cigar beckoned him to indulge a little longer.

Thorne sat at the desk in his room, the journal open to the first page. It was blank. He kept tapping at it with the pencil’s eraser, thinking of just how to start the thing. He peered out the nearby window, looking into the darkness that enveloped the land. His vision blurred as sleep called to him. He shook his head and dropped the pencil, his hand brushing over his face to wake himself up slightly. A groan escaped his throat.

‘Suppose I should start this as if someone reads it after I’m gone--’ a knock interrupted his thinking. He raised an eyebrow with a glance at the door. “One second.” He grunted as he stood and grabbed a pillow, covering his nudity. He was preparing to sleep after writing the introduction and now he feared the Princess of the Night was going to keep him awake a little longer.

He cracked opened the door and peered out. There in the darkened hall stood Silver. “I was about to lie down for sleep, but what’s up?” He asked casually, leaning on the door frame with his right arm while his left pinned the pillow to his waist.

Silver looked him up and down and sighed. “Using a pillow to cover yourself? Really?”

Thorne gave her a flat look. “Given how you reacted when I touched you earlier, the glory of my undraped splendor would send you into bliss. So yes. A pillow. Now can I help you or are we going to make an ordeal of this?”

She hissed at his words, baring her fangs. “I reacted that way because you shouldn’t have touched me like that!”

“I didn’t know! Fuck!” He rebuked.

“Well now you do. Don’t do it again or I'll geld you, deal?”

“Is this really all you came to say?”

“Deal?” She emphasized it by ruffling her wings open, revealing those blades on her tips.

Thorne rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Fine, fine. Deal. Are we good?”

“No.” The word was blunt and prompt, making Thorne click his teeth in annoyance. “One more deal. You and I are going to sit and talk and get to know one another.”

Thorne yawned. “Okay. Sure. Deal. We’ll sit and talk. Soon. Now if you’ll excuse me, I wanted to finish some writing and sleep.”

“Writing?”

“A journal. Good night, Silver.”

“O-Oh… Alright. Good night, Thorne.”

With that, he shut the door gently on the thestral and tossed the pillow aside. He went back to the desk and sat, rubbing his temples in mild frustration. A minute passed and he gave a guttural snort, finding the strength to put words to paper. He picked up the pencil again and began to write.

This is the journal of Thorne. I am writing this to document my previous life and to confess my crimes. At the time of writing this it is roughly two weeks into my summoning. By the time someone reads this, my year on Equestria will be up and I’ll be dead. I’ll leave room to write about some encounters throughout that year as well. A memoir!

So without further ado, let’s use my real name. My name is Damien Iscariot Rutherford.

15. Days Go By

I was born in a rural area that was far off the beaten path into a compound of religious zealots in the backwoods of a state called Montana. They were a cult, really. My father at the head. It was the nineteenth of October in the year of our Lord, 1987. Though I guess ponies don’t use those months--it was likely close to that ‘Nightmare Night’ I read about.

October 19th was a Monday. And because of what happened that day due to powers beyond my control, the day was named ‘Black Monday’. Ominous, right? Turns out, the stock market crashed--basically think if the bit somehow became worthless. That’s what happened in my country, the United States. It didn’t affect any of us, of course. We were living in the wilderness. A cozy little hamlet village. But the name stuck throughout the world.

Several countries were riddled with problems due to this invisible market crashing. Panic ensued. Jobs were lost. Families were ruined. The wealth of many burned to ash.

And this was the day I was born. But dear reader! Do not fret! For I was graced with a secondary curse that sealed my fate!

Black hair and golden eyes.

Not only was the day being named ‘Black Monday’, but now a child was born with black-as-night-hair and golden eyes--coloration that isn’t natural in humans. A mutation. It actually makes my eyes rather sensitive to bright light, though over the years it’s gotten manageable. In my youth, however, I had to wear sunglasses constantly. As the years went on, my hair eventually turned brown and then went silver and gray. Another gift from dear ol’ dad.

So I’m sure you can see how this mixture created a volatile cocktail. A religious zealot who now had a son born on a dark day with mutations? Welcome to a living nightmare. He didn’t have the courage to just kill me in my crib. No, not at all. His process of thinking was much more insidious.

See, he thought I was something called ‘The Antichrist’. Basically, the antithesis to his religion. He spun it around to his followers saying that mother must have slept with demons. Which she then defended herself saying they must have forced themselves upon her in her sleep. She was never the same after that I was told. Supposedly she was happy and cheerful, and would have protected me.

She didn’t. Something snapped inside of her that day I guess. They said she tried to kill herself several times. Eventually she became… I don’t want to say supportive, but she was there enough to at least help me not become… whatever they wanted me to become. I don’t know any more. My father’s idea was to turn me into a weapon to defeat the coming of the greatest of evils. Basically, using the ‘son of the beast to defeat the beast’. To put it in simpler terms.

So that is how I got my name. ‘Iscariot’ is my middle name and derived from a book of fables regarding his God’s son getting betrayed by one ‘Judas Iscariot’. And ‘Damien’ is more of a book name given to the usual characters that end up being this Antichrist. Though I think it pays homage to ‘demon’. And Rutherford was just my last name. Nothing special.

Now you understand, hopefully, why I always went by ‘Thorne’. It’s a rather charming name with a deep meaning to myself. The other children always called me a ‘thorn in the side of the family’. Which, to explain, the ‘family’ was referring to the compound. It refers to everyone living in this backwater.

Thorne had invited them in and now was deeply regretting it. The moment the door shut behind Celestia and her entourage, the room went black. The air shuddered with an unseen disturbance. He cried out “Not again!” in aggravation.

Light returned in the form of a glowing six-pointed star. It burned deeply and passionately, dwarfing the five other white stars that surrounded it. Yet they all twinkled with the same intensity. Each white star then morphed and shifted. One took the form of a rain cloud with a rainbow lightning bolt striking an unseen target. Another took the pattern of colored balloons. One was simply a trio of apples. A gleaming cluster of three diamonds took up another slot in the pattern. Finally, pink-winged butterflies fluttered into place to complete the encircling.

The light they all cast sent the darkness that assailed them reeling. There from the shadows emerged a humanoid form. It was cloaked in rolling black fog. In skeletal fingers it held daggers that dripped with crimson. There was an audible gasp from several mares as the figure dropped the blades and removed the hood. A murky skull stared up at the lights with eyeless sight.

Several hooves extended from the stars to the figure, only for it to recoil in pain and utterly fade as if the six had banished the creature. It all came crashing to nothing as normalcy returned to the room.

“What in Equestria was that?!”

“That, Princess Twilight, seems to happen when I meet alicorns. I can’t wait to see Cadence’s. That one was far less bloody and evil-seeming than the one Celestia and Luna got to see.” Thorne responded in a sarcastic tone. “No idea why it happens, no idea what causes it, and it seems to be trying to tell everyone involved… something! No idea what!”

“It was trying to tell you to accept friendship, silly!” A bubbly voice stated rather matter-of-factly. Thorne looked down to see the source. A bubblegum pink mare with what he would have sworn was cotton candy for a mane and tail. Cerulean eyes seemed to jitter with uncontainable excitement as she stood close.

“Ah dunno, Pinkie. That looked more like we cast it out with magic.” The orange mare in a Stetson spoke with a distinct southern drawl that made Thorne smirk. She had a nice blonde mane and tail, each tied off with a red ribbon near the ends. Her face had adorable white freckles and deep green eyes. It brought the ‘earnest farm girl’ look together.

“I’m with her on that one,” the human replied. “Looked like I got smote.”

There was suddenly a light blue pegasi in his face with a rainbow mane and tail. “Well you did say it looked less evil than what Princess Celestia and Princess Luna saw, so does that mean you’re evil?! Huh, buddy?!” Stern and serious cerise eyes stared into gold. She was suddenly enveloped in a whimsical blue aura of magic and yanked away with a shout.

“Rainbow Dash! That is no way to speak to a guest of Princess Celestia and Princess Luna! Clearly Lord Thorne isn’t evil!” There was a sarcastic and dry laugh that tried to downplay the pegasi’s rudeness.

Thorne smirked and knelt down. “Thank you, my lady, for defending me against such brutish accusations.” He held out his hand, waiting for her hoof. There was a blush-filled chuckle that followed as the white mare did exactly as Thorne wanted. He gently brought the hoof to his lips and kissed it. “But please. Call me Thorne.”

Another nervous chuckle escaped the would-be noblepony. Thorne rose back up after his little show. “We need to get you out of those rags, darling, once introductions as done.”

‘Oh you are just a treat. So sweet and easy. I know your type. I wonder if she’s got a bite…’

Thorne nodded. “Of course.” He let his eyes go over her face a moment, shifting from her azure eyes, inspecting the alabaster unicorn with a royal purple mane and tail that were done in an elegant coiffure. He assumed magic was how one got such curls. After all, alicorn manes seem to flow in unseen wind. Or at least some did. Twilight was proving him wrong.

His sights fell on the princess. A lavender mare with a dark sapphire blue mane and tail with singular streaks of purple and raspberry pink. Violet eyes hid a trove of knowledge behind them and yet stared at Thorne with a ravenous curiosity. And behind her still, there was another mare. The final star in the pattern.

A cream-yellow pegasus with a long and flowing pink mane. A tail of the same color that drug on the ground. She seemed timid, but clearly had battled her hesitation for years. Cyan eyes were shrunk down in a tumultuous fear that had gripped her since seeing the wild magic. The moment Thorne’s eyes fell on her, she flinched--it wasn’t a defiant motion, but it was enough to be noticed by the observant.

“So! Princess Twilight and her friends pay a visit to the stranger in their midst. As you all know, I am Thorne. And you all are the heroes of Equestria! The bearers of the Elements of Harmony! The teachers at the recently opened School of Friendship. Applejack represents honesty, Rainbow Dash represents loyalty, Rarity represents generosity, Pinkie Pie represents laughter, and Fluttershy represents kindness. And the magic of friendship burns brightly within the dear princess.”

Thorne had a smug look for knowing so much already. It had been two days and he had done a bit of digging into the library already. He had several stacks of books on his bed and on his desk. “I do hope I didn’t pull you from the school. Molding minds is an important task that I don’t want to detract from.”

There was a hoof wave and a ‘pfft’ from Twilight. “Not at all. Got it covered. We all wanted the chance to meet you.”

“Mhm. Well I’ve got several days to sit and talk before my assignment to the Crystal Empire. Granted, may have to speak to me as I do some work to prepare. In the meantime, Miss Rarity? I would love to get started on clothing. A well-made and sturdy set. I’ve even got some sketches. And since money is no object…” He gave a look to Celestia before continuing. A nod gave him his answer. “Since money isn’t an object, I’ve got a few needs that must be met. That alright? Think you can handle it?”

He was given the stern glare of ‘how dare you insult my ability’ to which he raised his hands in defense. “I can handle it, darling! Show me these sketches! I want to know if I’m truly working with a professional who can make such demands!” There was a bit of an ‘hfmp!’ to her statement that made him beam. “And it’s just Rarity, thank you!”

‘She does have a bite!’ Thorne gave a slight bow. “Of course, Rarity. I didn’t mean to insult. If you’ll all excuse me, I’d like to get to work right away with Rarity. After I’m properly clothed, feel free to pick my brain about anything.”

The way Twilight lit up made him instantly regret that comment.

Life wasn’t easy, of course. But as I grew, the more I obeyed, the better things seemed to go. Once a soldier, always a soldier. I practiced my skills with daggers until my hands were bleeding. I went out and learned herbs and flowers and what each one did. All under the instruction of my father. If I didn’t, I got punished. Beatings, denial of food, days of scriptures and bright lights constantly in my face without being allowed to leave a room.

All of it to try and brainwash me. And in a way it did. They broke me. When those you were supposed to trust from birth do so much to you to twist your view of the world, what choice do you have but to see yourself as the monster?

So I became the monster. It’s funny, really. It wasn’t until years later that I heard a saying while in Africa that ‘the child scorned by the village will return to burn it down just to feel some warmth’. The first time I heard it, I laughed until I cried. It summed up what I had done.

So we come to the first crime I committed.

I was fifteen. The compound had dwindled. People got wise, but my father still held sway over simple minds. He was manipulative. Another thing I took from him, I suppose. Mother, thankfully, had left. But she couldn’t take me with her. She had done all she could for me. I appreciated it. She was the reason I still felt sane. Deep down, I know she still loved her child and she hated that she allowed my father to do what he did. To this day, I still wonder if she’s out there. A part of me pities her. A part of me hates her. All of me is still thankful she was there for as long as she was.

There were twelve adults and ten children. The wine that usually went passing around after a service was my target. I knew all about several of the poisonous plants in the area and how easily I could mix them into the sour swill they served. It blended right in.

They suffered immensely. Those that didn’t outright die to the poison, I took a knife to their throats. They were on the ground mewling for death, so I granted it. I was spared the weight of doing that to the children. They were all younger than myself so the poison took them, if painfully.

I took divine pleasure in making sure my father saw the devil he made. I burned the compound down afterwards. I escaped into the dark of night with a backpack and didn’t stop running until I found people to beg for help.

‘Pants! Glorious pants! And shoes! Even a shirt! Oh Rarity you are a blessing disguised as a marshmallow!’ Thorne thought to himself as he danced alone to an unseen orchestra in the ballroom. He had his arms out like he was holding a partner and had a giant blissful smile on his face. ‘Simple shoes but they work so well! Nothing compared to the boots I commissioned, but oh! It is so wonderful to have some arch support!’

“Uh, Thorne?” Twilight’s voice cut into his monologue, tripping him up from his dance.

The man stumbled slightly but caught himself easily. He went to the default position he had when addressing those that were above his station--kneeling with a fist in the ground. It came as instinct after being pulled from his merriment. “Yes, Princess! How may I help?”

“Whoa, whoa. No need for any of that. And it’s just Twilight, please. Up! Come on, get up!” Twilight fluttered over to him, putting her hoof on his shoulder to guide him back to his feet. He obliged.

“Well I appreciate it. You caught me as I was in a flight of fancy. It’s nice to have something to wear that covers me entirely and is comfortable. Something that isn’t prone to drafts.” Thorne stated as he dusted his knee off. Simple brown pants and a white button down shirt were the first things Rarity had made for him. She had insisted on going overboard, but he was adamant on staying with bare bones.

Twilight gave a soft laugh and nodded. “I’m sorry to pull you from a daydream. It looked like you were having fun. But everyone’s gathered for lunch and tea and we--well… I was hoping to ask some questions.”

“I see. Lead the way,” He motioned with a smile.

‘Oh she meant everyone. Huh. Well. Fuck. I was hoping to get work done today…’ Twilight told him on the way to the lounge that everyone meant everyone. At least everyone who was important. Which were several mares and one colt.

“And he has two delightful medallions around his neck but I’ve no idea what they mean!” He heard the voice of Rarity as they came to the door.

Thorne raised an eyebrow and stopped Twilight. “Want to see something amusing, Twi?” He tested his boundaries. The alicorn raised her eyebrow at the nickname coming from an unfamiliar. Thorne merely winked at her.

He shoved the oaken doors open. “Do my ears deceive me?! Darling! Rarity, how could you? A gossip? A refined lady as yourself?” He brought his arm up to his forehead as he took theatrical steps into the lounge. His other clutched at his chest. “Such words coming from beautiful lips! You wound me!”

There were several gasps. Then came the stammering. “I! I-I-I didn’t know it was p-private, darling! I would never! I was just sharing how f-fascinating your jewelry was, h-honest!” Rarity looked pale and distressed.

The moment he saw the look of almost tears he backed off. “Whoa, whoa! No waterworks! It’s a petty joke!”

Rarity switched from flabbergasted to simmering anger in the matter of moments. “Why you!” The others, however, found it amusing. Rainbow and Pinkie seemed to find it utterly hilarious. Thorne looked to Twilight, wondering if he got the reaction he sought. She was grinning, but clearly wasn’t that amused.

Thorne picked up a teacup with a sigh. “Mmm. Friendships truly run deep and you all care immensely for one another. Thought that would go the way of banter, not almost causing a tearful scene…” He thought aloud as he poured his tea.

“Well, uhm, if we knew you better…” Fluttershy quietly told him.

“Ah. True, true.” He took a sip of his tea and then gave a refined bow. “My apologies then.” He shuffled over to a couch and sat back, propping his right leg atop his left. He shifted to get comfortable and got his ankle to rest on his knee. He leaned deeply into the purple cushions and dug into his pocket. He pulled a cigar, the cutter, and the matchbox. He rested the teacup on his crossed leg in a balancing act as he prepared his smoke. “You all don’t mind, do you? I should be sitting far enough away.”

There were several shakes of heads and he went about his business. Soon enough, however, a thestral coat had clamored up onto the couch with him. Which Thorne gave a wary eye. “Sure you want to be over here, kid? Don’t want to hamper your breathing,” he remarked as the colt got comfortable.

“I’ll be fine! I wanted to sit and talk!” Dusk responded proudly.

Thorne chuckled. “I doubt you’ll get a word in edgewise…” He struck the match and lit up. Once his cigar was burning, he shuffled it between his middle and ring finger to allow his index and thumb to pick up the delicate teacup. “But you’re welcome to try.” He blew smoke and took a sip.

“Well, Miss Rarity was talking about jewelry you have! What about that?”

Thorne brought his left back and grabbed at the chain around his neck, lifting the two bound objects from his chest and out of his shirt. He held them aloft, letting the painted wood and silver glint in the streaming daylight that filled the room. “One is a memento of friends. That moon there. Used to be part of a game we played,” he lied effortlessly. “The other is the Chaos Star. A personal belief of mine.”

“Did someone say Chaos?” His teacup spoke and suddenly sprouted eyes and a mouth. A teacup that was swiftly let-go of as Thorne jumped in a sudden fear. His body reacted by trying to back away, nearly tipping the couch over.

“What the fu--!!” He clamped his left over his mouth upon realizing the teacup was now floating and staring at him. Thorne muffled a shout in displeasure before releasing his foul mouth. “Not in front of a child. Okay. I’m fine… I’m not fine. There is a floating teacup that talks!”

“Oh please,” there was a sudden blinding flash of magic that stung Thorne’s eyes. It was brief enough for him to not shy away from seeing the teacup had been replaced with a beast, “floating and talking teacups is the least I can do!”

“Discord!” Came in unison from the mares at the luncheon table.

“Discord?” Came seconds later out of a confused Thorne. “Oh… Oh! The dra… something. I got accused of having some connection to you for this pendant of mine.”

“Draconequus, thank you very much.” Discord huffed.

“You… wow,” Thorne said in awe as he stared at the floating creature, “you really are the definition of chaos… Just take a look at you! It’s stunning! Let’s see… Deer antler, goat horn, different shaped pupils--red eyes with yellow sclera instead of white! A sharp looking protruding fang… pegasi wing, bat wing, bushy eyebrows and goat beard, goat leg--a lot of goat in you. Even in the face. Hmm… Lizard leg, eagle talon, lion paw… All combined in a snake-like body with a dragon-scale tail. I like the buzz-cut mane too.”

Thorne rattled off Discord’s appearance in reverence, causing the draconequus to break into modeling poses. “Really? Stunning you say? Oh stop, I’ll blush!” After the list and reverie ended, Discord floated over to the girls at the table, taking a particular spot next to Fluttershy. “So. You mentioned chaos and it’s a belief of yours! Do tell! Perhaps I can finally show these ladies what a little chaos can do to life! Oh I’m so excited! I have a follower!”

Thorne put his cigar back in his mouth and waved his hand. “I wouldn’t say ‘follower’. I don’t really do ‘religion’. And you were described as what amounted to a god. Sorry to disappoint--please no smiting me.” He blew smoke out of one side of his mouth and continued. “But yeah. The Chaos Star. When you all look up to the stars, what do you? Beauty? Tranquility? Hopes and dreams? I ask this, of course, to two beings--technically, probably three--that can and do move the heavens.”

The human tugged the cigar from his lips and exhaled another gentle plume. “Where I’m from, physics dictates everything. The sun? It soars through an expansive galaxy that is the throes of a never-ending and ever-expanding explosion that formed the entire universe. With it, it tugs planets along--planets that have entrapped moons. It is the only reachable star near to Earth. Our moon controls the tides. We’ve landed on it, of course. Explored it thoroughly--even some dared to plan colonies for it.”

The cigar went back in his lip and he looked to Dusk. “Children and adults alike constantly looked to the stars for guidance. For inspiration. Our solar system was a delicate balance. It’s not that everything was chaos--it was that everything had the chance to be chaotic.”

“What do you mean?” Dusk asked with bright, curious eyes.

Thorne smiled and blew smoke up, waving it away with his cigar hand. “Static balance. The universe was sprung from chaos but fell into order. But it never completely became orderly. Stars burn like massive furnaces, throwing light and heat. Planets collide into one another, dooming each to nothingness until they form again. It’s all random and chaotic, but it serves an endless cycle. Once the chaos destroys something, it’s up to whatever broken pieces that are left to reform into some semblance of order. A new planet. A new star. A new galaxy.”

He leaned his head back and stared up at the ceiling, taking a long pause. A giant bellow of smoke came next as he sighed out. “I wear this pendant to show that I am a part of that cycle. That life is chaos. But it’s up to me to take the pieces and make order of it. To carve out a piece of reality that is solely mine.”

Thorne leaned back forward, shifting his legs and resting his arms on his knees. “Life dealt me a lot of poor cards. But I can’t curse life. I can’t envy or pity others. I can’t sit and dwell on it. I have the knowledge that the universe works to keep a balance. So just keep moving forward. Endure the hardships and adapt to the situations.” His glance looked to Dusk. “That is what it means to wear this Chaos Star.”

“But what about happiness?”

Thorne’s eyes shot to Silver. That voice cut at his heart. It was sorrowful, full of concern, but equally curious. He caught a hint of her accent for the first time. It confounded him as he tried to place it to something equivalent on Earth. Gold eyes stared at one another for an eternity. He finally drew the cigar out of his lips, blew the smoke away, and extinguished it.

“It’s in there. Somewhere.” He replied with a half-heart and a shameful look away. The room fell silent. Until the flap of wings. Suddenly he had obsidian-with-gold tips mane in his view. Then he felt hooves on his cheeks, turning his face to hers.

“Now hang on, you make it sound so wonderful and breathtakingly beautiful, then in that same monologue, make it sound hopelessly cruel and crushing!” Silver exclaimed, garnering the surprise of everyone. “It’s as if no matter what you do, the result is the same!”

Thorne stared at her flatly. “You misunderstand. And it is okay for you to touch me like this, is it? Didn’t you just threaten me a few nights ago to not touch you like this?”

She instantly pulled away and floated to the ground. “I-I… I’m sorry. Explain it if I misunderstand, though.”

Thorne sighed in exasperation. “The universe works at a balance. It will work to right the wrongs. And it will work to wrong the rights. Every action has an opposite and equal reaction. It’s not the result that is the same, it’s merely... “ He rolled his wrist and fluttered his hand, trying to think of the words. “You start and end at the same points in life…” He clicked his tongue. “Okay, maybe you didn’t misunderstand…”

He brought his hands to his face and groaned. “Ugh. It is a beautiful and breathtaking thing but also hopelessly cruel and crushing. But it does matter what you do. That is the point. If I commit heinous crimes, I’ll eventually get justice brought against me. If I do nothing, then nothing changes. If I commit acts of heroism, I’ll eventually have wickedness brought against me. That’s what I’m getting at. The universal scales balance themselves.”

“But then where does happiness and friends and everything else fall into that?” Silver asked with a tilt of the head. “Where does love and family come to these scales? It’s as if you’re saying that if you gain a friend, the universe will do something to attempt to remove them!”

The way she phrased it struck him. It upset him at a level. “That is what I am saying, yes!” He raised his voice and stood, forcing her to step back. Again the room fell silent. Thorne recoiled at the shocked looks he got as he went from face to face. He fell back into the couch, bouncing the colt next to him up slightly. “Sorry. But yes. That is what I am saying.”

His left arm was shaking. The polymer gave a slight noise as it jittered. He reached over his right and braced his left. He had dropped the extinguished cigar onto the floor and was now staring at it intently between his feet. He took a slow, deep breath, thinking carefully of his next words.

“You soldier on and you look out for yourself, Silver. Love, family, friendship, and happiness mean nothing to survival. And that is what I have done. I survived.”

His face was neutral as he looked back to them all. Gone was the joy of clothing. Gone was the joy of tea and cakes. Gone was the simple pleasure of a cigar. The face that stared at them now was passive and cold.

“I didn’t complain about it. I found myself above it all. I didn’t judge others, I didn’t envy, I didn’t hate. I saw the evil in my kind. I saw the good. I merely existed. You, as a soldier, must know that. A weapon to be pointed at enemies, which is all we are.”

Celestia rose up from the chair, defensively. “Thorne! No one is merely 'a weapon'!” She reprimanded. The moment she took the defensive, he rose up and flicked his wrist, not backing down. His arm, however, was still trembling. The panic in everyone’s face reflected on the shaking blade.

The thought went shooting through his mind. ‘Three of four right here. Do it. They won’t last against an onslaught. Send this kingdom to fucking ruin!’

Thorne’s eyes went to the blade, then to the rest, then to Silver. “I’m returning to my room. Do not stop me. Do not disturb me until much, much later. Sorry, Silver.”

With that, he slowly approached the door, backing himself into it. He kept his arm at the ready to use it, though he knew he didn’t stand a chance against magic. He kicked it open with a heel and continued into the hallway. Once there, he retracted the blade and took off into a sprint to his room to hide himself away.

I wandered around until I was eighteen. Which was the age I could sign up to join the military. I had nothing else to give. I had lived on the streets, stealing what I could to survive. I had found my way to the state of Ohio after riding the rails and hitchhiking that entire time. I never committed another murder until I joined the military.

I don’t really remember all the petty thievery, otherwise I’d list it here as more evidence against me. But three years? You can assume it was a lot.

Something I didn’t know, however, was that I needed identification. Something I didn’t have. I didn’t even have a birth certificate! I was a ghost. It was the freest time in my life. I did everything to stay off the radar. It was in these years that I honed my stealth and perception. I had to hide from the police and then run from them when I could.

But once a slave, always a slave. Once I was eighteen, I had to get that identification. I felt like a part of my freedom was taken from it, all so I could go die for someone else’s freedoms and rights. But that’s all I was good for, right? I had no ambition. I only knew survival. Nothing attaches me to the waking world. Nothing but self-imposed strings. So I took the strings. Maybe I could find meaning in that service.

I never did.

All I found was more suffering. My own suffering had defined a part of me. Now the rest of the blanks would be defined by what I witnessed. What I helped cause. First was basic training which I passed with flying colors. You go through torture since birth, having more of it done to you feels like a light breeze. I had gotten numb. In fact, their version of it was simplistic.

But I found three great loves within basic. One was the love of robotics and engineering. Designing and building.

The second was the love of theatre and music.

The third was a woman named Laraine.

The pounding of metal filled the night air. Thorne oversaw the unicorn smith, aptly named ‘Steel Cuirass’, who was sending sparks into the moonlit evening as he beat steel into shape. It had been days since Thorne spoke with the princesses or even Silver over tea. He hadn’t interacted with anyone but guards and workers.

It was better that way. Better that they stay away. That is what he kept telling himself. It made everything easier in the end. He would eventually have the blood of a nation on his hands. ‘I’ll be the demon that sends them to crisis. They’ll grow stronger. The innocents will endure. They will adapt. Humans always do. Suffering breeds greatness.’

His mind recoiled at the thought. ‘Right. Ponies. I’m the only human here.’ That earned a heavy sigh which brought Steel Cuirass’ attention.

“You alright, sir?” The bulky stallion unicorn asked.

“Hmm? Oh. Yeah. Just lost in thought. Think you got the rest of it down? Sorry to make you work so late, but I wanted to get the chestplate ready at least.” Thorne idly remarked, his gaze looking off into the distance.

“Well the design is intricate, but should be usable in another day or so. It’s very interesting, this type of armor. And you say it allows flexibility without sacrificing integrity?”

Thorne smiled and nodded. “Yeah. With chainmail and leather, it will offer less protection than full plate, but with the modifications it’ll be more lightweight, flexible, and better than just leathers.”

Steel Cuirass nodded. “I get it, just… Gives us a lot to think about when it comes to future armors. Layering bands like that almost like making large scales. I kind of want to call it ‘dragon scale armor’. But dragon scales have the added protection of being stronger and heat resistant to the point they can bathe in lava.”

“Sounds like I need to slay a dragon and use that as armor…” Thorne wistfully said.

“We’re friends with the dragons, sir, don’t go harming them.”

That brought Thorne’s eyes to the stallion. “Wait. Dragons are friendly now? I… I am surprised they exist in this world. I thought they were all fantasy. But now you’re telling me, not only do they exist, but they’re… friendly.”

“Yessir!” Steel Cuirass beamed rather proudly. Thorne blinked and started to chuckle. His hand went to his brow and he fell into a fit of giggles. Giggles broke into a heartfelt maniacal cackle. It echoed into the night and sent creatures stirring. He laughed until it hurt and winded himself. “It… wasn’t a joke... “ Cuirass added.

Thorne tried to recollect himself. “No, no! I know it wasn’t. Just… Ponies and dragons getting along! I needed that laugh. It’s been a silent couple of days with no room for laughing. Ah, I feel better.” His jovial tone went back to casual. “So, good here? I was thinking of strolling around the garden.”

“I’ll see it done, sir.” Steel Cuirass responded. Thorne simply nodded and strolled off, leaving the unicorn to finish.

The darkness of the garden was intoxicating and inviting. There was a hedge maze in the distance that he had already explored and mapped mentally. A prominent fountain stood at the entrance, the gentle trickle of water running over stone filling the soothing night air. Even as he stepped onto the supple grass with his shoes on, he could still feel spring in it as it resisted. He felt the small creatures that hid in the shrubbery go scurrying away from him.

The moonlight did little to offer the sight of flowers, but he knew they were there. Wilds from all over Equestria blossomed in this garden, tended to by both magic and terran ponies with all the care in the world. The smell of each different breed wafted through the lunar-blessed breeze. It was chilling against the skin, but welcomed to shed away the heat of the forge and the sun that had set earlier.

It was all peaceful. Until he heard the flap of a pair of leathery wings. The illusion of solace and peace faded. ‘Silver. Watching me, of course.’ His head turned, looking toward where he had heard it. The moment his neck began moving, the wings fluttered and she was dashing off to remain unseen.

‘She’s fast. And she let herself be heard. The moment I moved she went silent. She’s good.’ Thorne smirked, flashing his teeth in the night at the direction she had been. His body lowered itself. “Come then. Keep up my darling little winged assassin.” He spat the words like venom. He made sure she heard them before he darted off into the nearby maze.

Silver was quickly above him, her form silhouetted from below as the light of the moon poured over her. She could see him rushing off into corridors from above like he was in broad daylight. Her eyes were glinting as they took in the low-light and amplified it, brightening the surroundings. The word ‘assassin’ had pierced her train of thought. “Prust! Mehar! Nin-rotcul!” She swore aloud in her tongue as she watched over him from the air.

She waited for him to come to a dead end and then she would corner him. But all the twists and turns had yet to slip him up. Every decision he had made led him closer and closer to the opposite end. There was nothing there aside from a cliff that was walled off, however. She did notice something peculiar as he went along. Several times he would leap forward into a front flip and pocket a hand after every time. He always came out of the flip with a practiced landing and kept running.

It all seemed practiced. It almost seemed thought out. That is when a rock went sailing next to her head, getting her out of her thoughts. She screamed out as another nearly nailed her wing. Her hearing had saved her as she heard the thing whistling at her from the force of the throw. Another swear in her mother tongue escaped her as she yelled at the man who had stopped at the exit of the maze. One more rock went sailing at her that she had to dive under to avoid. She went diving at him, forcing him to turn and run out of the hedge maze and onto the open of the cliff-side.

“You! You knew that maze like the back of your hand!” Silver yelled accusingly, keeping her distance.

“It is an escape vector and I cover my bases!” Thorne responded, flicking the blade from his arm out. “So they finally got wise and sent you to deal with me, huh?! My outburst the other day was enough!”

“What?!” Silver sounded aghast, her voice trembling. “No! Nightmother sent me to talk with you! Escape vector…?! Deal with you?! Thorne, what is going on?! Why are you acting like this?! Where was the hero that saved my Dusk?!”

“Then why hide your presence?!” Thorne growled. “Silently stalking me! I barely heard you approach--in fact, I think you did it on purpose for sport! That’s what those blades on your wings are for and now I understand why you would fight like that! You would get the drop on anyone, not allowing them a moment to retaliate.”

The mare squinted and landed. “Sport…? Moon above, you truly think that… Nightmother was right, you need her help… You need a lot of help, Thorne!” She sighed. “I came to tell you that Princess Luna wanted to work with you in order to step into your dreams. And to apologize for upsetting you.”

“Apologize? For upsetting me?” Thorne raised an eyebrow at that, his guard lowering somewhat.

“We were all worried about you. The way you left. You were on edge like you expected to be attacked… You’ve not spoken to anypony in days! You barely have been seen! All the reports from guards and servants were of you skulking around to avoid interaction with anypony!” Silver shouted at him. “So I’m sorry!”

With that, Silver took to the skies again, flying off before Thorne could even respond. He retracted his blade and held his hand up, trying to reach out to her as if telling her to wait. But his voice never left his throat. It hitched in place, causing only a gargling whine.

‘Holy shit I am an idiot…’

I am something of a genius. High intelligence. Scored high on all the tests I took. I am studious. I have an eye for details. I have a partial photographic memory, meaning my mind can remember snapshots. It’s not the full ordeal where I remember everything perfectly in some mental archive, but it gets the job done. I remember what is important. What is out of place.

Of course I also have adept instincts. Living in the wilderness has taught me to be wary of everyone and everything. Moving from the forest to a concrete jungle did nothing but teach me new ways to be wary and what was dangerous.

This is what drew me to engineering. The challenge behind it. I loved designing things. I got good at sketching and making blueprints. Where someone saw a problem, I began trying to design a system to try and solve it as simply as I could. The major issue I had was I tried to overcomplicate things. Some solutions were elementary and I couldn’t just automate everything. There wasn’t a ‘fix-all’.

What I could design, however, were weapons. Those had one job and there was no real overcomplicating them. None of my suggestions ever made it to a development phase, but they were feasible at least. I’m sure now that I’m labeled as ‘missing’ or ‘dead’ in my world, someone will take my designs and start working on them.

At least my crossbow is coming along. It’s the little things, reader. Be proud of them. Humanity always sought the biggest, brightest, and best it could. But never forsake the little things that matter. Spend time with your children. Splurge a little here and there. Eat that big slice of cake! Do what makes you happy. It’s all that matters in the short amount of time you have. And don’t let anyone put you down. Within reason and within the law of the land, of course.

Speaking of happiness: the theatre. Or as it was spelled in my nation, ‘theater’. I always preferred the classical spelling of it. Romantic, no?

I fell in love with the stage. After all! All the world’s a stage and the stage is a world of entertainment! Hamlet, Romeo & Juliet, Phantom of the Opera, Macbeth, Death of a Salesman, Othello, King Lear. I’m sure there are pony equivalents. I don’t know when it started, but my mind started associating what I did with the stage.

I’m sure you’re confused, so allow me to explain. Every time I took hold of my daggers that I had made--much later in the story, mind you--I could hear an orchestra begin to play. I could see the actors upon the stage. I could see the placements where we all needed to be. I was there! Upon a stage! As the lead actor, I did my best to carry the play to its end!

It was my happy place as I did my work. It’s a rather comically morbid way to describe it, but… I guess it was my way of coping. My way of telling myself what I was doing was okay. Even as I write this, I know there will be many times still when I’ll use this little mental stage to help me carry out my work.

Silver re-read the note that had been given to her.

‘Meet me at the end of the maze. I’m putting my trust in you to come unarmed at sunset. I will do the same. It’s the only way we can talk. Though I don't know how deep we can talk since I’m expecting Dusk to come. Deal’s a deal, right? - Thorne’

She didn’t like the idea of bringing Dusk around him anymore. He had been increasingly showing that he had no trust in anyone around him and any attempts to make friends or get close only made him more defensive. But this also was the creature that dove to catch a falling colt, got up, and shrugged it off like it was no big deal.

She also had her mission from the Nightmother. A part of her was upset she had been called an ‘assassin’ by a stallion who was likely an assassin himself. The way he carried himself, the way he acted, and the way he was always ready… It told her enough to know she was dealing with a professional. She had been sizing him up and reporting everything to Luna but there was no hard evidence. Everything he had done, he did in self-defense. There were no outrageous moves made against the princesses. He had several opportunities that she would have leapt on.

A part of her wondered if that was him being better trained. Or some different type of thinking. Though she suspected he was likely trying to make it clean and get away. He was the type, it seemed. Always able to get away.

The note got burned in a candle. It was already getting close to dusk when she and her colt awoke, though he had chosen to go back to sleep to spite the creeping light that still permeated the room. Once the note was gone, she turned back and smiled at her little one. He would get a muzzle nosing him back awake.

“Come on, Thorne wants to see us both.”

The colt shot an eye open. “Is… Is he okay…?” he asked in a groggy tone.

“Mai mik Feli, ya. He is… Burdened. Thus why we need to help him. Biineh?”

Dusk yawned and nodded. “Ya mama.” Silver smiled at that as her colt stood from the bed and lifted off with a flap. She was soon hugged around her withers as the little batpony nestled in on her back. “He won’t get angry, will he, momma? It was scary the last time…”

“Shh, no, no. I think maybe he wants to apologize. But I’m not sure. Come. It’s almost sunset.” Silver trotted over to a dresser and pulled their shades out. She got hers on and handed him his. With a turn, she looked at the bladed wing-guards she had lying on a table. A fleeting thought told her to take them, but she resisted it.

Once she got the ‘ready’ she was waiting for, she went to the balcony of her room and lifted off, swooping down over the courtyard that faced the setting sun. She glided over the exterior of the castle, doing a gentle bank in order to sweep the area. It was a large and listing motion, but it relaxed her. It also made her colt happy, given the tiny squeeze she got. It made her smile.

The sun set on the horizon. With that, she made her way over the maze. She found the human figure sitting on what looked like a blanket and a basket next to him. She didn’t try to hide her approach, but the scene made her cautious yet curious. She landed a few feet behind him, making the human turn slightly. He turned to his left to look at them and that is when she gasped slightly.

The silver glint of metal in the vanishing rays of the sun caught the eyes. Dusk climbed off his mother’s back and took a hesitant step. Thorne simply smiled at the both of them. They were both astounded by the lack of a black arm and instead could only see the metal numb that stuck out at his elbow.

“Necretuli…” Silver said in bewilderment. “Dusk? Give us just a moment, please.” The colt looked back to her confused but nodded, stepping off to the side. Silver cantered over quickly and shoved her face right into Thorne’s. “This! This is what you meant by unarmed! You… You! Deztapul!” She hissed the words quietly.

“You have a beautiful language and accent. When you’re not speaking like a socialite,” Thorne replied. “Sounds… Romanian.”

Silver gave a click of her tongue.

Thorne rolled his eyes. “I wanted to apologize and talk properly. And I figured you would bring Dusk. So, picnic.”

“Picnic. That was your idea.” She deadpanned. She shook her head and sighed, accepting it. “Fine.” She looked back toward Dusk and called for him. It took only a second for him to come rushing back. Silver shuffled over and sat beside Thorne with Dusk sitting next to her.

Thorne motioned to the basket. “Had some snacks prepared as well as some tea. But first, I wanted to apologize. To both of you. I… I lost myself. That’s twice now you’ve seen me lose my temper, Silver, and for that I deeply apologize to you. I’m a better man than that, I promise. Just… a lot on my mind. And pushing at my boundaries just…”

He sighed and fell back into the blanket, looking up at the sky. Soon enough the violet hues of dusk were fading as the sun was put away and the moon rose. Stars began to shimmer into sight. “I’ve had several years of this mentality. I thought I had happiness. Thought I had friendship. And they were taken from me. All I had left was service. All I know is being a soldier. It’s the default. Having my beliefs scrutinized like that--even if it wasn’t malicious--set me off.”

The right arm went over his eyes, blocking out all the light. “So. Sorry I lost my cool. Sorry I probably scared you, Dusk. Sorry I probably scared you too, Silver. I’ll need to apologize to the princesses and to Twilight’s friends.”

There was silence that lingered until the colt spoke. “Maybe they’ll understand. But I know we all will forgive you, Thorne.”

The human cracked a smile and moved his arm. He offered his hand to the small thestral who put a hoof confidently in the palm. He gripped it gently. “I appreciate it.” He let it go and let it fall to his side.

“Do you think you’re beyond friendship?” Silver said, hints of that accent taking hold. “That your beliefs make you unable to have such things?”

Thorne let a heaving sigh. “No. I just… I don’t want to be hurt again.”

Silver let a nod and went digging in the basket. She poured Dusk and herself some tea first before offering a cup to Thorne. He politely declined. Next she handed her boy an apple that he tore into rather violently. “What about romance? Did you have family in your world, Thorne? You make it sound as if you did not.”

“No. No family. Not by blood or marriage. I didn’t even have any lovers or anyone I pined for. Truthfully, that was rare… Nothing ever came of any of it.” He looked to Dusk and then to Silver. He motioned for her to come closer, not wanting to speak aloud for a moment. When she did lend him the ear, he whispered, “Most of my partners were paid for the night.”

Silver pulled away with a rosy tint in her cheeks and a giggle on her lips. Thorne just looked at her with mouth agape. It swiftly switched to a sarcastic pained expression. “Laughing at that! I’m hurt!” He teased. Silver shook her head and giggled harder.

“The noble gentlestallion mask just lost a lot of respect!” She teased right back. “And here I had you pegged as a mare-killer.”

Thorne let out a ‘pfft’ and shook his head. “Mares love the charm. But yes, thank you for laughing at my romantic inexperience.” He grinned playfully at her before relaxing again. “Tell me something about yourself, then. A talk goes both ways.”

“Well I was rather hurt by your accusations of ‘assassin’ the other day. I consider myself a dancer.” Silver huffed.

“Oh that’s asking for a joke. And you know what ones I want to make. But then tell me, what about the weapons?”

“Wing-glaives. Dancing like I do is a martial art as well as pure art,” She beamed with pride as she spoke, “and it isn’t as crude as a cutthroat’s profession!”

Dusk interjected, “Dance for him, momma!”

Thorne smirked and sat up slightly. “Oh yes,” he cooed, “please do.” The depth in his voice sent the thestral mare blushing. Suddenly she had golden predatory eyes beset upon her, demanding she give him a show.

Her mind began going through all the jokes he made mention of which only increased the blush. “Fine! I shall!” She stated with a bit of a tremor in her voice but stood up with determination. She took a swig of her tea and then stepped off the blanket. She took a position a few feet away and as she prepared, Thorne sat up completely.

Silver closed her eyes and opened her wings. She rose up onto her hind legs in a slow and methodical manner, showing off her barrel in the moonlight. Next she was up on her back right hoof, her left now extending behind straight behind her in a slow buck. Her tail lifted and swayed to an unseen music. Her forehooves stretched to the sky above her head, then one came down, sweeping sensually over her muzzle and then her barrel. Her wings suddenly enveloped her, covering her belly and hoof. She leaned forward on that one hoof, as if bowing.

To Thorne, it seemed almost like ballet motions. He wasn’t impressed so far, but a side glance to Dusk told him something was amiss. The colt seemed excited for what came next. His attention went back to Silver.

Golden and glowing eyes now pierced his soul. Her onyx wings flared open and she leapt from that one hoof. Like a bullet, she shot into the sky. It was fast and fluid, barely giving Thorne the time to appreciate the maneuver. There in the sky, she was among the stars. Those eyes looked away from him and he suddenly felt empty. His attention was fully hers and she knew it, however.

She closed her wings again and listed her body back, showing off a bit of flexibility as her spine bent. Silver’s body went careening downward from the back flip, her muzzle pointed at the ground. Just before she connected, her wings flung open and she banked hard into a cyclone spin that went right back up into the night sky. From the end of the bank she went into a closed-wing roll, drilling into the air. At the height of it, her body flared open and she struck a sultry pose before gravity took hold again.

As she fell this time, she back flipped again, managing it twice before opening her wings at the end of the second and going into a tight triple loop. Out of the last loop came a dizzying horizontal spin that only ended once she flared her forehooves opened and slowed herself with her wings. With a powerful thrust, she shot higher into the air.

Silver struck a pose that looked as though she was praying. Hooves together, head bowed, hind legs together. Her wings opened. Thorne thought an angel was appropriate for how she posed, yet the bat wings went toward the demonic. He swiftly put that thought away, however, as she daintily floated back down. She landed on her back hooves and those eyes shot open again, staring at him.

She wrapped her body in her wings and looked away shyly. She spun one last time, kicking off with her left and standing on her right. Her wings flung open and she made the bowing motion once more. Once she closed her eyes, her body relaxed. Back on all four hooves, the dance concluded.

Thorne sat wide-eyed. “That was… beautiful. And that’s a form of martial arts?! It was like ballet! I… I need to see plays in this world. If they can be that amazing…!” He let a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “You were stunning, Silver. You looked as though you belonged in the sky with the stars and moon…” He looked to his hands. “I’d clap, but I’m missing one at the moment…”

Silver trotted over with a blush on her face but a smile shining brightly. “Maltumir. I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

The human nodded. “Sit and rest. You look like you put everything into that…” He watched her as she sat down and took another sip of tea. He had a smile on his face as he watched her son gush at the thing he had probably seen a hundred times. It made him reach up and clutch his chest as something stirred.

‘Now I can see why you’re ‘silver’. Those fast motions along with that gleaming silver-like coat… Like a blade slicing through the darkness as the moon reflected off of you. It was breathtaking, Silver. It was beautiful… You were beautiful.’

Thorne wanted to continue to heap praise over the marvel he had seen. Instead, he asked a question. “Silver…? Do you think we could become friends…?”

“Of course!” She beamed at him without hesitation. “Why can’t we be friends right now?”

“I better be included in this!” Dusk pouted.

Thorne blinked at the two. He let a soft snicker but nodded. “I suppose there isn’t a reason… I’d like that.”

“Then we’re friends!” The colt exclaimed. Silver nodded in agreement.

Thorne smiled and looked toward the moon. He clutched his chest harder as a phantom pain went ripping through his torso. He inhaled deeply, held it, and exhaled. The pain subsided.

‘Better to make friends than enemies for now, right?’ He told himself in a regretful tone.

Laraine. A buxom bombshell of a blonde. Legs that went for days. Hair that was down to the middle of her back. Beautiful blue eyes that captured your attention. The perfect curves. All the right squish in all the right places. The voice of an angel. She didn’t smoke, she didn’t do any drugs, she didn’t sleep around, didn’t drink. She was a miracle. And she was a waitress.

Of all the places to find the epitome of divine grace, it was at a slum diner that was right outside the base. For the life of me, I couldn’t figure her out. I had been studying humanity in my time outside my family’s grasp. I had them pegged as beasts. Yet here was this woman, somehow thriving amidst them!

Nothing ever came of it. I wasn’t allowed to leave the base during basic training. It was only a few weeks that I was even there before being accepted into a special program. She did, however, come by to make deliveries to upper echelons who had ordered lunch from the diner. And sorry to fool you, reader, but I suppose she wasn’t a ‘love’. I lusted for her, sure, but didn’t love who she was… I loved what she represented.

It would be a later motif in my tattoo. Even at the bones, humanity is beautiful. Thus the skulls on the shield. We must defend what has come before us and help build what will come after us. Humanity can be so much more than beasts and monsters. It made me hopeful for myself.

I chalked up the feeling I had when I first arrived in Canterlot to disgust at how similar ponies and humans were. But I came to the conclusion that they are just like humanity. And they must have their dark side. Yet there is so much hope for more. Though I think a part of me now realizes… It disgusted me because you ponies have achieved a society that focuses on the good and it shows everywhere. Instead of the self, you focus on the other pony. And I guess I am jealous of that. Not that I haven’t seen selfishness and arrogance. I’ve seen racism, even. But it’s… trivial. At least when compared against humanity.

Sometimes I wonder if I could be reborn as a pony in this world. Or if I had arrived and my body was pony-fied. Would I be different mentally? Would I be happier? If my circumstances were different, could I be something more as an equine creature?

Some days I feel as though the magic in this world is telling me to accept… something. That I could be at peace and find happiness. Something more than myself. That maybe I deserve saving...

I fear that it will only grow stronger as the year I have left to live dwindles.

I fear the hope that it gives me.

Thorne sat in his room with over thirty books. All of them were opened to various pages. Magical theory, flora and fauna, dictionaries, maps and geology, biology of creatures--everything a stranger in a strange world would need. He had a few more books that held basic potion-making and alchemy as well as books on medical practice.

He had been studying as he worked, but this evening he had all the time in the world. It would be another day before he could truly try out the daggers he had commissioned. His crossbow needed two other components before it was done. His armor was an ordeal--same with the clothing. But it was all coming along. It would be another three days before Rarity would leave but she promised she’d be done. She had apparently requested help from the other five in order to fulfill the request.

Thorne had found this out after going to them in order to properly apologize for his outburst. Nothing as personal as the evening picnic with Silver and Dusk, but he figured they would appreciate the gesture. They did, thankfully. Even Celestia and Luna accepted him. And they accepted the reasons along with the apology.

Now he had several friends, a safe place to talk, and a bunch of gifts. All of it freely given. He didn’t think his work would repay them. He didn’t want to repay them that way. Nor did he want to repay them the way Master wanted.

He unbuttoned his shirt and stood from his bed as the thought went ripping through his concentration. He grit his teeth as he stared at himself in the mirror. A hand went to the hidden mark.

He dared not summon it, nor try to reach out to his Master as he was told. His paranoia told him that any magic he did would be picked up on. He also had a feeling that even with the brand being hidden, his Master’s eyes were upon him. Thorne worried that his thoughts were being read--manipulated even. That he was never truly alone in his head.

‘I’ve done this before. Worked with my targets. Gained their trust. I have a year to work. Stay the course, Thorne. No time for doubts. You’re barely a few weeks into this. They will hate you. You’ll bring a nation crumbling down. None of them are actually your friend. You are just a tool to them and everyone else. And when you’re done, you’ll be cast aside.’

He felt his heart harden. He had done this to himself hundreds of times. His heart questioned his morality, his joy, and his reasoning. But his mind always reminded him of the truth. The voices in his head always made him steady. The human heart was weak. It needed to be hardened against the onslaught.

With a nod to the mirror, he went back to his books. He still had much to learn and much to do.

I had left basic and was now on my way to a special program. Special forces training. Basically had a bag thrown over my head and drug to a location. Don’t even think we were on the same stretch of land. I actually think I was no longer in the United States. I had passed all my physical and mental exams with flying colors--had someone comment that I was ‘superhuman’. Thus why they took me to what was known as a ‘black site’. In the books, it was said I went and joined the Rangers.

In truth, we were operating in a burner unit under the name of ‘Sanitization Division’. And ‘burner unit’, dear reader, implies that we were expendable. There was no record of our activities and everything had plausible deniability. There were ten of us, so a decent size squad. Was simple, really. We serve five years or die in the field. Then we were let go, given a giant paycheck to keep our mouths shut, and told we could do whatever we wanted.

We had handlers and they changed from time to time. It was rare that ever ten of us were needed for a mission. We worked in pairs. Had no idea where our money came from and none of us cared. There were probably so many fingers in that disgusting pie that it probably stopped resembling a pie. Jobs ranged from pure assassination to cleaning up dissidence.

I both loved and hated it. It gave me direction… But it took a piece of my soul. I suppose that is life, isn’t it? You give up pieces of your soul as you age in order to keep going. Skews your sense of right and your morals until you’re standing in a graveyard and looking at your headstone.

I remember all of their faces--the innocents that I was forced to put down. Every man, woman, and child. But it was the nature of the job. No witnesses. That’s why we were called ‘Sanitization’. We were there to clean up and put everything to the torch. No loose ends. It was here that I started to see that I needed a code. It would later become my three rules of doing business when I formed the Black Roses.

It was serving with Sanitization where I got two things. One, my best friend in the world, Ulysses. Second, my left arm was taken from me.

It was becoming evening again. The tasks of the day had been done, though Luna’s night was just beginning. Celestia, however, looked exhausted after having dealt with day court. But they indulged Thorne’s request. He had asked them both personally to meet him in his assigned chambers in order to speak privately with the both of them.

Thorne sat on the edge of the bed and beckoned them both to enter. He insisted they made themselves comfortable. Luna shut the door while Celestia charged headlong and climbed onto the bed to lie down. The action took Thorne by surprise, him looking up from his journal. He looked to Luna in confusion who merely shrugged. Thorne snapped the book shut and placed it down as the lunar sister took her place on the opposite side of the bed.

“I suppose that is one way to get comfortable. But you do own the place, so I can’t complain. Anyway, I asked you both here in order to seek some information that I cannot find in books. And to hopefully get some help.” Thorne stated, his fingers interlocking themselves as he leaned forward and rested his chin on the balled hands. He sat motionless, eyes focused on the wall.

“I’m glad you’re taking my advice on getting help… I see Silver relayed the message. Though I still wish to step into your dreams.” Luna spoke softly. “But what is it you seek?”

Thorne inhaled deeply and held it a moment. “If you both and all the rest of your guardians fail, what happens to this world?”

Celestia’s head rose up. “That is an awfully specific question.” Luna merely nodded in response.

“There is another. What if all the magic in this world fades?”

“Why…?” Luna asked. “Why would you want to know that?”

“The first question answers how strong your little ponies are in the face of crisis. Friendship solves a lot, yet isn’t the fix-all you think it is. Ponies have secrets. Ponies lead double lives. You’ve seen it and you’ve likely experienced it. In fact, I know you both have.” Thorne looked over his shoulder to the two of them. He stood up and faced them with stern gold eyes judging their responses. “The second answers how resilient they are to change after the crisis.”

His arms crossed. “You both have lived for over a thousand years. You've surely seen war. You've seen your ponies die. Not only from wounds, but from just old age. You understand the weight of it all. You understand the real costs behind things like war and vainglorious pride. But you’ve not had skirmishes in over a thousand years." Thorne drummed mechanical fingers atop his right arm as they sat crossed. "You two are ancient god-like beings capable of moving the sun and moon. If one day that suddenly ceased, what happens? Do they cease moving? And what about conflict resolution? Pinkie Pie told me a funny story of how her singing caused buffalo and Apploosans to start a fight with one another over territory--something that usually demands blood. Instead, pies got thrown.”

The two princesses looked at him and then one another, debating on how to answer the onslaught of questions. Celestia sighed, sending that aurora of a mane shuddering. “We don’t know.” She answered honestly.

“As far as conflict resolution, you know what Silver is. We have our methods.” Luna responded. “But like Tia said, we have no idea what would happen should magic fade. We don’t know what would happen if we vanished.”

Celestia shifted on the bed, crossing her forehooves. “We simply trust in our ponies. They will make the right choices in the end. And even if magic somehow faded from this world, they would manage. If war and conflict again came to our doorstep, with or without magic, they would be able to deal with it. They are stronger than they appear, Thorne.”

“Mmm... “ He hummed the response. “I suppose that is fair. Faith and trust, cornerstones of society.” He turned away from the two of them and went to the desk. “I thank you two for the insight and I’m sorry to call you both here for so little. But I needed answers.” He leaned against the wooden desk, his head turning to look over his shoulder to the two of them.

“Of course Thorne. Like I said, you’re safe here. And we’re always ready to speak to you about anything. You can trust us. Just like we trust in our ponies.” Celestia gave him the most heartwarming smile through her clear exhaustion. “Oh! I almost forgot. After you're done in the Crystal Empire, you’ll have a home in Ponyville.”

That shook his core and he turned suddenly, “What?!” He exclaimed. “A home?!”

Luna smiled. “Silver’s idea, actually.”

“I… I--!”

“Good night, Thorne!”

The two mares almost skipped out of the room, pleased with the stuttering, confused mess they left of the man.

We worked in pairs so I got stuck with an oddball named Ulysses. Such a mouthful of a name. I loved saying it. Sounded so classical and proper. They all knew me as ‘Thorne’. It was better that way.

Ulysses was wanted for several crimes and had got pushed into our ‘happy home of rejects’. That was his phrase for it. The man was an expert at explosives. The way he looked at high powered plastic explosives would be the same way a stallion looks at a mare. It was lustful. He always made the joke of ‘if explosives don’t fix the problem, you didn’t use enough’. I think he took that from something, but I couldn’t be sure. I found it immensely humorous.

He had a jaw line that could be used to cut glass and he was bulkier in the muscle department. Plus he was taller than me. When I first saw him, I compared him to a walking mountain. Stout, stoic, and always contemplating. I joked about him always deep in thought about blowing up the world. He probably would have tried if given the chance. Of course our hair was always kept short, but his hair was a nice brown. Matched the green eyes. He had several freckles all over his face that littered white skin. Though, that skin was marred by several burns and shrapnel cuts. We all took bets on how long it would be before he lost his fingers. Or something else.

Then it turns out I’m the one who loses something. After that fact, I laughed up a storm. Didn’t win any money, but the irony was that I was the biggest investment on that betting pool.

Oh it hurt at the time, of course. When it happened, we were in the middle of nowhere. A desert with nothing around. We were in the middle of a purge of a radical cell that had been our allies but then turned around and dealt under the table in secret information. Our bosses didn’t appreciate that. So Ulysses and I went in at dead of night and began the cleaning.

One of them had the brilliant idea to sleep with a bomb under their bed and it was rigged to a dead-man switch. He wanted to make sure his body was disposed of should he somehow wake-up dead. Well, when my left arm went plunging a knife in his throat and his heartbeat stopped, boom! I was just lucky it was a poorly made improvised device. It was more directed, aiming to blow his torso to bits and then ignite a fire. So it ripped my arm at the elbow and sent it packing. We were also lucky he was the last one and the fire it made did a lot of work for us. But I don’t remember much afterwards. Ulysses pulled me to safety and carried me back to our rendezvous point after treating my arm.

He could have left me for dead. I’m glad he didn’t. A reason why he became my best friend! But… years later, I thought back to this moment and thought that he should have left me for dead after what he did…

Thorne stood out in the courtyard in the bright sun. Silver stood beside him, yawning. “What is this surprise…?” She asked, shielding her tired eyes. He had not only woke her up but he also told her to leave her sunglasses inside. Which she had swore at him in her tongue for such a thing as the sun was blinding if she looked up. It hurt enough to be outside during the day even with the shades. Without them, she couldn’t open her eyes. He had thoughtfully brought an umbrella, however, and hadn’t left her side.

He had a satchel at his hip. One that was garnering her attention. Thorne reached into the satchel while offering her the umbrella. “Here. Hold this.” She took the umbrella with a quizzical look as he went digging into the bag. “I have a few toys I made that I wanted to try out. Little inventions from my world that should work here. Took several nights to get the chemicals right. But first… This!”

He knelt before her. She squinted as he reached out and put something on her head. She recoiled at the touch but then found her eyes being protected by a pair of shaded goggles. They fit perfectly over her face and eyes. He sat there a moment, adjusting a strap on the side so it was comfortably fit to her head.

“There!” He beamed. “Adjustable and transitional.” He would flick the lenses up, showing that there were two sets of them. The darker tinted set merely flipped up and allowed for normal vision. “So, you can go from bright light to low light in seconds. I also managed to get the materials to make one for Dusk. Of course, I think if you approve of them, you could get them mass produced for all thestrals.”

He stood back up and dusted his knees. “I seriously can’t believe you all haven’t thought of something so simple. And even wearing protective shades that didn’t strap to your head? I mean, some of you had that, I’m sure. But not standard issue? That’s just laziness.” He shuffled slightly and reached for the umbrella. He did her a favor of flicking the lenses down again while she was stunned by the gift and closed the umbrella.

Silver flinched away. She felt the light all over her body, but her eyes remained unharmed. Steadily she opened them and peered through the dark lenses. She blinked and shifted her head, looking all around.

Thorne smirked. “They’re Wonderbolt grade lenses, by the way. Able to resist high wind forces. And I personally made sure they’re scratch resistant. Go ahead and try them out!”

Silver didn’t need to be told twice. The thestral mare was in the air in an instant. She had snapped from her groggy state the moment her eyes were protected. She went into a high speed routine, dashing back and forth as quickly as her wings would carry her. Thorne stood in awe as she even threw in some breakneck turns and banks that would have made professional pilots go out like lights. It concluded with her rushing at him. He didn’t flinch as she skidded to a stop before him. Wind ruffled his hair a few seconds once she stopped and he let out an impressed whistle.

Suddenly he flinched back as a pair of hooves went around his neck in a hug. Her movements were quick and took him by surprise. A simple flap of wings and her barrel was against his chest. “Wha-?!” “Thank you!” Silver exclaimed. Thorne chuckled and gave a gentle hug back. “Yeah. No problem, Silver. Glad you enjoyed it.” She broke the hug and landed back on the ground. Thorne just smiled.

‘Probably just gave her a tool to use against me… But it was nice to get a hug.’

With the help of government money and technology, I was able to engineer a new arm. Biotech like it was still rather in its infancy, but never underestimate mad scientists with a dream. They shoved some wires into nerves then took my motorized contraption and shoved it on the metal nub at the end of my stump. Worked like a very painful charm!

Due to that experiment working, I was able to continue to serve. I still had two more years to go. Two uneventful years. Same old, same old. More wounds and scars acquired. Had to be a little more cautious as a black robotic arm stands out in a crowd and makes you easily recognizable. Other than that? Not much to tell. Was twenty-three when I left with a massive check. They basically gave us the idea to form a mercenary group.

So we did! Ulysses at my side as my right hand man, we formed the Black Roses. Got the tattoo of the logo shortly after. I could regale these pages with all the tales and mischief we got up too, but I’m already overextending this. And it was more of the same. Kill someone or go guard some pretentious somebody. Of course we also got up to very illegal things. But we stuck to a code. Not to say life before Black Roses was perfectly legal, but now we had to watch out for ourselves.

It was liberating. Truly felt like we had no real collars aside from the ones we put on ourselves. I still had no idea where to go in life, but I was enjoying what I did. I enjoyed life itself. Fantastic food, delicious drink, wonderful women-- I indulged myself. I deserved it, didn’t I? It was also when I started going back to my roots of religion. Or rather, to spit on my father’s spirit, I went to studious lengths in the occult. It actually fascinated me as a topic because humanity clung to such things.

We were so much better than gods. We were gods. Yet we continued to worship these beings that we thought existed. In our darkest hour, we all find something to cling to. And I bet that is the same for ponies.

I wonder if Discord is actually worshipped in some way? Or Cadence? Twilight, maybe? Celestia and Luna seem to be revered for the simple fact of moving the heavenly bodies...

If I prayed to them… would they hear me?

The loud snap of a bow string and the clank of metal echoed in the courtyard. Several guards, Silver, Celestia, and Luna, all bore witness to the test-firing of the weapon that Thorne had been developing. The metal bolt went soaring several hundred feet and smashed into the straw-laced target dummy, sending it toppling back a few more feet as the momentum was absorbed.

Without stuttering, Thorne lowered the deadly end of the crossbow down. He worked with speed and precision, getting the motions down faster and faster each time. The crank was extended and he quickly tightened the string back. Once it locked, the crank was distended. He pulled a bolt from the quiver, pulled the weapon up, nocked, and aimed with the improvised sight. With a pull of the trigger, another screaming bolt went into the next target.

“Works perfectly!” He exclaimed after lowering the weapon, looking about. “Should have enough force to knock anything from the sky. Maybe even pierce dragonhide.” He said to himself as he looked about to a sea of concerned faces. “I wonder what the maximum accuracy distance is. That target had to be, what, eighty yards? A hundred? It still had a lot of power given that the target went tumbling…” He was talking to himself, mostly, not caring if anyone was listening.

“That thing is a siege weapon and he wields it like that with no magic, sister…” Luna said aloud. Thorne’s attention went straight to her. It sent a shiver down her spine.

“That’s the point, Lulu.” He grinned. “Behold what a human can do! Give me a few more days and I’ll show you something else just as impressive.”

‘You’ve not seen anything yet. Just wait until all my gear is done.’

Life in the Black Roses was great. We had a staff of thirty people! I could remember their names and faces. It was always a tragedy when we lost someone. We tried to keep the staff at thirty at all times. Of course, we would send various groups and teams out to various things. And I always was a part of our more shady business dealings. It all went through me. I was busy. I could handle it though. This is where ‘Lord’ came in. They started calling me ‘Lord’ because I referred to myself as a noble dealing with peasant complaints. Of course I always carried myself as one. I was the most professional out of our staff. I had to be, since I was in charge!

Since we had actual ranks tied to us, I was referred to in the field as ‘Major Thorne’. I found it funny. Ulysses was my captain. We did everything together just like always.

It was the happiest time of my life. I wouldn’t say I had a reason to live, but it was something. My own nugget of joy that I could enjoy every single day. I… became callous to others dying by my hands. Something I’ll atone for, I’m sure. But I always kept true to my personal beliefs. I endured and adapted. That would become my motto.

Then, one night, all my joy was ripped out from under me. I was twenty-eight at the time. Two years prior to my summoning to Equestria.

Thorne stared at the table. He looked to Steel Cuirass. “It’s all done? All of it?”

The stallion nodded. “Mhm. It took a while, but it’s all there. And these are the pride and joy.” With that, the unicorn used his magic to levitate a case before Thorne and onto the table. Thorne wasted no time in opening it.

Two large daggers rested atop a stained-black leather belt with sheathes. Thorne felt his heartbeat as he stared at the shining steel. To a pony, these looked like short-swords. Broad and thick. Simplistic in design but efficient. Two sharp edges and a point for stabbing. The hilt was a slightly curved T-shape, meant for catching other bladed weapons. The handles were wrapped in the same black leather.

He took them in his hands and felt the world fall away. The weight of them was perfect--just as he requested. He stepped away for a moment, flipping them back and forth in his fingers, switching his grip-stance. Thorne took several quick thrusts and slices. The air itself was split asunder and it made his hair stand up.

“They’re perfect, Steel…” The man said with a wicked tone. “And everything else looks to be in order. I’ll give it a test run tomorrow. Cutting the deadline close, aren’t we? I’ve got five days to get accustomed to the gear.”

“Sorry about that sir. We’re used to working with ponies. But everything is as you requested. Honestly, we were all excited at the prospect of seeing you in all this gear. We want to see it in use. It’s a lot to wrap yourself in and some were taking bets that you can’t possibly move around in it all.”

Thorne smirked. “We’ll see.”

Two years. That’s what it took.

Dear reader, have you ever been betrayed by your real and only friend? Someone who you saw as family? Someone who had saved your life? Someone who you would have gone to the ends of the world for?

That is what happened. Ulysses betrayed me. Tore apart what we built. The Black Roses went belly up and scattered to the winds. Not only him, but ten members of our staff plus him. Those were the ones who betrayed me. Since he had a major controlling share in the business, all he needed was our third in charge to get to his side. And he got that. It took the two of them to out me. He had been planning it for at least a year.

I… I wanted so badly to break my rules. To go after their friends and family. I wanted to make them all suffer. He took my happiness. Traitors deserve to suffer. Betrayal begets the worst punishments! He left me for dead! They even killed the rest of my staff! Burned our offices to the ground!

And it was all for money. Money that we had. Money we were making. But he wanted more! He wanted to run the show. He thought he could do more on his own.

He betrayed me for another reason, of course. To clear his own name. He already had a criminal record. One that apparently wasn’t purged with his service. And that list had been growing and growing. And now the International Police were after him.

He merely changed their scope. I was the one who got pinned for all of our criminal activity. It’s only fair, I committed those crimes. I helped plan them. I helped carry them out. The only reason we even did the more criminal contracts was because I enjoyed doing them. They were fun! Something about sticking it to the establishment…

Maybe I should speak to someone about my issues with my father and how that went over to me committing crimes against any authority…

It took four days. He had cut it incredibly close. It took four days to get accustomed to the weight and move around in it. It was almost as heavy as tactical gear from his previous life. Though this was far more covering in terms of armor. And far less breathable.

It was bright under Celestia’s sun. They had actually prepared an area for him with several unicorn magi in order to grant him moving targets. Target’s that would fight back against him. They would summon shadows that he could slay with impunity. He now stood in the middle of an arena with bleachers abounding on the sides.

“You sure I can go all out?” Thorne shouted to the three princesses that now watched. The entirety of Canterlot seemed to be in attendance. “You all really summoned everyone you could to watch this, didn’t you?!”

Celestia tittered. “You made it seem like it was a spectacle!” Her voice boomed back. “And yes! Do your worst! The objects you fight will not give any feedback to the casters.”

“If you insist…!” Thorne replied. “Give me a moment. When you see me pull my hood up, you may start!”

The man reached into his protective cloth that covered his neck and pulled a fabric mask up over his nose and mouth. He took a deep breath to adjust himself with the motion of breathing through the minor filter. He rolled his shoulders afterwards, the leathers creaking in the motions.

His body was covered in black. He wore an outward duster that had the sleeves cut from it. It was durable and resistant to water--something he had tested. Normal cloth clothes covered his body, all died black.

Atop the clothing sat his armor. His right arm was protected by a vambrace with steel on the forearm and elbow, with leather allowing flexibility and protection to his wrist and inner-arm. His shoulders had a pair of small steel pauldrons that were rounded and connected to the chest piece. The gaps in the armor were protected by a tight-fitting chain-mail shirt he wore under the leather lining.

He was proud of the chest piece he had come up with. Shaped and conformed bands of steel sat atop the leather. It had been made in such a way that it covered a good portion of his gut and would allow more precise motion of his torso when performing maneuvers. The chest and the back were made with the same general design.

At his hips rested the belt and the daggers in their sheathes. The crossbow rested easily on his back with the thing slung upside down and pointed downward, making it easy to pull the handgrip and snap the breakaway buckle that held it to his back. In order to put it away, he’d need to remove his duster and strap it back in, but this was on purpose. In combat, speed was essential. Putting things away came afterwards. The same thing applied to the pouches that adorned his leather leggings. Easily ripped open in order to use the items that they hid. The armor covered a major portion of his thighs with leather and steel. Steel knee pads protected his knees and they connected into knee-high boots. A long steel shin-guard went down to the foot. There was a slight heel to the boots he wore, but the careful eye could see how stiff the toes of the boots were. They, too, were reinforced with metal.

At last he felt ready. He felt protected and safe. His mind began to play that familiar music for him and he felt at peace.

‘Let’s give them a show if they so demand it. Remember, you all asked for this.’

“Hold nothing back! If you do, I will know! And I’ll hurt you for insulting me!” Thorne roared from under the mask, his tone deathly serious. His hood went up. Golden eyes gleamed from under them. The crowd went silent at the threat, but now was held in captivation.

The unicorns seemed to gulp at that but obeyed Celestia who nodded to commence. They all set about their task, summoning shades of ponies. Thorne was impressed, they didn’t hold anything back at the start. He wondered how much magic creating puppets consumed.

He counted a contingent of nine guards, all surrounding an alicorn that stood in the middle. Ten enemies. Three pegasi floated above, three unicorns, and three earth ponies stood in formation around the make-shift VIP. Their weapons and armor looked very real and protective, even if they were just shades. All of them stood at the ready to come under assault, faces focused on the assailant.

The unicorn shadows wasted no time, launching several spells at the human before them. Thorne’s eyes went wide as magic manifested itself. Real magic. A wall of flame went rushing toward him, sending him running to the left in a panic. The crowd erupted in cheers and laughter as the human was forced to flee, sprinting away with his body ducked low. He began to follow the circle of the arena, endangering those in the crowd. Or he would have, if magical barriers didn’t keep the fireballs from hitting anypony.

One hand reached under his duster, toward a satchel that sat against his rump. He palmed something as he ran. His circle suddenly cut right at the group. The barrage didn’t let up. Instead he dipped completely under one fireball and used the energy in his legs to spring into the air, avoiding the next one that came. In the same motion, he slung the object in his palm into the group. His eyes closed as he waited for the result.

A deafening bang and a blinding flash erupted as the object struck the ground before the alicorn shadow. The screech of Luna echoed in the barrier-protected crowd, “Was that magic?!”

Thorne landed in the group and drew his blades. The cheering crowd went silent as the human dashed from unicorn to dazed unicorn, blades effortlessly cutting just under their jaws where the helmets ended. They were deep and ripping, precise in their targets to cause as much bleeding in as little time as possible. It was a sickening ballet of carnage that lasted only seconds.

Once they were dealt with, he tossed another pellet from his hand. A plume of smoke erupted around the alicorn and the earth ponies that were left standing. From the smoke Thorne dashed out, daggers back in their sheathes. Instead, in his fingers, several arrow-shaped knives sat between his digits. His arms went slinging, throwing the knives at the confused pegasi. Their wings did nothing but stir the smoke that lingered, keeping it on the field longer.

One by one their comrades were pierced and fell to the ground. While it wasn’t entirely fatal, he had mostly found his placements to be accurate. And now that they had been dealt with, the smoke settled heavily, the particulates that made it thick and hard to breathe in now falling to the ground.

Again his daggers were drawn. With another rush, he took out one earth pony before the two others could get their spears into him. He leapt back a few feet to regain his advantage. The alicorn, however, took to the air and unleashed a torrential ice spell at the human.

Instead of retreating, the human rushed forward in a gambit. He took one of his daggers and threw it at one earth pony, forcing them to break from their defensive formation. In that instant, he stepped into the other, dodging the spear strike with ease and diving the dagger into their jaw. Just as the other was recovering, Thorne set upon them with the remaining dagger he had left. With a strike to the nose with a fist, he slipped behind the pony and got them into a headlock, the dagger threatening to plunge into their throat.

His scheme paid off as the alicorn ceased their spell for fear of hitting the last standing guard. He had a hostage, but it came to a standstill. The alicorn attempted to get behind him, but he quickly backed himself to the corner of the magical cage. The flying shade went to the ground at a distance and began to approach, horn charging a spell.

Under the mask, Thorne smiled. It was all a fluid motion like a practiced dance as he stepped forward. The dagger met the pony’s throat and sliced. He spun next and ducked, tucking into a roll. His left dropped the dagger and his right grabbed his crossbow. The left hand went diving behind him, grabbing a bolt. As he came out of the roll, a discharge of lightning went crackling overhead that was aimed directly at his face not moments beforehand. The roll finished and he slammed home the bolt.

A click of the trigger. The shriek of the string. And then the sound of a bolt striking into something not-quite-flesh. The alicorn was sent staggering back and then fell.

The unicorn magi all collapsed in exhaustion once the spell faded. The barrier shattered like glass, it piercing the silence that had befallen the crowd. Thorn reached up and pushed his hood back and tugged the mask down. A twisted, evil grin was plastered on his face. He let the crossbow go limp and rested it against the ground. He stepped to the center of the arena and faced the seats the princesses held.

He gave a ceremonial bow to end the demonstration.

I didn’t mind it, truthfully. I would have forgiven him, if he hadn’t taken everything else from me. I could avoid the police. Or maybe just bribe them off. Who knows? It hurt deeply, what he did. And for those two years, I hunted him and the other ten. One by one they all started to meet gruesome ends.

All the wounds done by daggers. They would know it was me. That I survived. And because I started going after them, the world’s police started hunting me in earnest again after the first victim came to light.

For two years I hunted them like animals. For two years I eked out an existence for vengeance. Two years of everything taken from me. Money and power was useless. My name meant nothing. I was a wanted man who was destined to be put to death. I had accepted it in those two years. Nothing else mattered.

It didn’t end until my best friend was dead at my feet.

I won’t lie. I wept. I cried like a child for the first time in years. Blood on my hands and my hands on my face. Crimson-stained tears dripping onto a lifeless body. His last words to me were ‘I’m sorry’.

I wish he had never uttered them.

The demonstration the princesses had brought together ended with everyone distraught about what their new human visitor had done to a bunch of pony-like conjurations. Princess Luna had doubted his ability and cunning. Princess Celestia had wanted to make a show of it to gauge him and to gauge how her ponies would react. Princess Twilight and her friends had found the carnage to be brutal and unforgiving, yet intriguing.

Silver was astounded at how he moved. It stirred her feelings on the strange stallion and excited her in a confusing way. The itch to duel him in order to see who was better clawed at her. Something told her that it would be a duel for keeps and with his repertoire of ‘toys’, he would win. The Nightmother had first thought it was magic, but swiftly came to the conclusion that Silver had--it was a chemical bomb that let a loud bang and flash to disorientate. His weeks of study and alchemical testing had paid off in dividends. This knowledge, however, didn’t dissuade; it made the feeling burn hotter.

She made her way down the hallway, wanting to speak to her travelling companion now that the evening had grown late and the castle had cleared. When she came to his door, however, she found it slightly ajar. “Thorne…?” She called out and waited. When she got no response, she knocked. Nothing came again. Courtesy told her to leave it. Instinct told her to inspect.

She pushed the door open gently and stepped inside. She closed it behind her. The gentle sound of water could be heard from the bathroom and the sound of the occupant humming a mournful tune. Silver shrugged and turned to leave until something caught her eye.

His armor, clothing, and weapons all sat on the dresser, ready to be put back on. His travelling supplies all rested on the ground in a pack next to it. But on the desk not a few hooves away, one of the two books she had noticed him carrying with him. Her mind recalled the night he was telling her of a journal he was writing in.

Her eyes darted to the bathroom. Then back to the journal. She fought her instincts, her training, and her upbringing all at once. Before she could come to a real decision, she was standing before the bound pages and had opened it. She couldn’t resist the urge to read. The preamble of the thing made her heart sink. ‘A year…?’ She continued on, speeding through it. Silver became engrossed in the first few paragraphs.

“Damien…” she said aloud.

“You do not say that name unless you’re prepared for the demon it invokes,” Thorne idly said, startling her to the point of launching into the air. “I was starting to like you, Nightshade. But you just violated a lot of privacy. That isn’t something friends do, is it?” He was eerily calm as he approached.

Silver stared down at him with eyes wide in terror. She had completely lost herself in her invasion of his privacy. “Now wait! Wait! Thorne! I apologize! I was just curious!” She began to lose her Canterlot tone and gain her thestral accent. She also was trying to keep her eyes on his face as the man had just come from the shower, his body bare and still steaming.

“I step from the shower and decide to peer out because I heard a page turn and see you reading my journal, Nightshade. How much did you read…?” Thorne asked her. “And don’t bother with ‘Thorne’. We’re on a first name basis now, aren’t we?” He asked, the words stinging like barbs.

The thestral slowly lowered herself to the floor. Her eyes darted between the window and the door. She gulped and stared at him defiantly. She had left her weapons behind and could now only rely on speed should she needed to get away. But she had seen how fast he was. He could be on top of her before she had the lift to fly. “I know your birthday is coming in a few months. And that your childhood was… awful.”

Thorne sighed. “So not very far, then… Mmm, what am I to do with you…?” He gave a hum as he cornered her. The human squatted down and stared into her face. “You know what? I think I know. Stay still and enjoy this.”

“What are you--!!” She gave a meek noise as fingers from his right hand played with a furry ear.

“One: I know you’re not going to geld me for this. Two: You secretly really enjoy this but clearly it's an intimacy thing. Three: You’re lucky I’m in a great mood or this? This wouldn’t be happening. You’re also very lucky you have a wonderful son. I don’t think I could take his mother from him. So you understand, right?” Thorne spoke sternly.

The thestral nodded in response, fidgeting under the torment. Thorne merely chuckled darkly at the reaction. “I’m glad I’m understood. Honestly? I figured this would happen, just didn’t think it would happen this soon. Should have known better.” His fingers went to the other ear. “You know what I am. I know what you are. I know that Tia, Lulu, Twi, and even Caddie likely know and expect me. It isn’t hard to figure out. But everywhere I turn there seems to be friendship waiting for me. And I can’t figure out if it’s all a ploy or if it’s genuine. Even the world itself seems to rise up to tell me something and I guess I'm so distrustful, I can't help but turn a blind eye...”

He sighed. “With you? I thought maybe it was the start of something genuine. Though a part of me wondered if you operated by the same rules of ‘no seducing targets’ that I do. Not that you’ve tried to seduce me, but who knows. Most midnight rendezvous are ‘just friends’, you know.” He shrugged and pulled his fingers away.

Silver gave a huff. “It’s genuine. We just want to know why. And can maybe steer you away from it.”

Thorne rolled his eyes. “I see. Well then. Want to try to repair this friendship?”

“Yes.”

“Do not call me Damien--”

“Unless I’m ready to invoke what it means, ya.”

“I was going to say ‘unless it’s dire’ but okay. I’ll know you’re serious. It’ll be like a code between us. Just like when I call you ‘Nightshade’. Sounds good, Silvy?” He smirked like an asshole at the little nickname.

“You are not… Ugh. Fine.”

“Excellent. So, Silvy, you want to know why. But I cannot speak any words about it. And if I show any evidence, I might die. Even being vague like this could be heard by unseen forces and I might keel over in a second.” He paused, looking around the room. “I’m not dead yet, so… I’m trusting you, as a friend, to not kill me where I stand if I show you. If I die, well, then… I guess it was nice meeting you.”

“You’re going to risk your life?!”

“I’ve been a dead man for a long time coming. I’m trusting you when you say that they want to help and be my friend. It’s been a wild month.”

Before she could protest, Thorne brought his fingers over his heart and raked away at the illusion, summoning forth the curse mark. The moment she saw it, Silver gasped. There burned into his chest was a centaur rune. It looked like an upside-down ‘G’ with a line struck through it diagonally from right to left.

He suddenly had a hoof to his chest and a mare in his face. “Nin-rotcul!” She pressed herself against him. “You keep that hidden from everyone else for now!” She had a panic in her voice that he hadn’t heard before. “Prust! Aste e rah! Damien, I’m so sorry! Rot, it all makes sense now… The year!”

‘Well I did say dire… That’s on me.’ Thorne just smirked. “I’m glad it didn’t trigger…”

“Ya, me too!... We need the princesses’ help. But it may trigger if they see it. Or are notified of it… I… Fuck.”

“Wow, that’s the first time I’ve heard you swear. At least not in your language. I kind of want to hear you say more swears in a language I understand but with that accent.”

She rolled her eyes and shoved him as she backed off. “But you’ve got a year before… what must be done? Have you… thought about what that entails?”

“I have. A lot. And I’m still... debating it. I wasn’t at first, but you all kept insisting I turn the frown upside down! But I have several questions that need to be answered. And now you see why I resist friendship and happiness. It makes it all that harder.”

Silver nodded. “We will find a way to fix this. This is our secret.”

“Year-long partnership, go!” He teased. “Now. I’m cold and still mildly wet. So I am going to fix that first. You’ve gotten enough of a show. Out with you.”

“And here I remember you saying I’d go into bliss upon seeing you naked. More lies!” She teased right back. She gave him a smile. “I’m glad you are so lax about this and are making jokes.”

“You looked tense and scared. I’ve accepted what this is, so as your friend, I should try to ease your mind.” He chuckled and grabbed a towel. “This is going to be an interesting adventure, I can already tell. But for now, go rest. Good night, Nightshade.”

She hung her head but accepted his words. She nodded and trotted to the door, glancing back to him one last time. “Good night, Damien.”

I left a note and a tape on the body. It wouldn’t be long. I told the authorities where to find me. I admitted to everything on the tape. I gave up. I gave them a time, a date, and what to do in order to get to me. I made it clear I wouldn’t be there before the time and date. They would set people watching the little complex I had rented, of course. And like clockwork, I was there at the time and date.

The instructions were clear. That if they wanted me, they would take me while I slept. And if they were smart, they’d kill me. Because if I woke up, everyone in that room would die and I’d walk away.

And then magic happened.

That night, I slipped into the bed to go to sleep for the last time. Naked as could be. And as I got comfortable and was about to slip into that sleep, I found myself slipping instead through a portal.

Right into the loving arms of a centaur. And my new life in Equestria. I was branded in some way. The threat it brought makes it hard to describe it. Makes it hard to fight it and explore it. But I suppose that is why it’s a good chain to put on a slave. Magic... I need to find a way to counter it.

The rest of this journal I’ll fill out with snippets of my year-long journey. Thoughts and ideas and questions in need of answers as well as tales of a rapscallion rogue from my point of view. I’ve covered my past enough. As of writing this, tomorrow I start heading to the Crystal Empire with Silver in tow. I have more questions than answers in my head, but all I can do is move forward. Maybe I’ll find some answers out on the road.

Endure and adapt.

16. Train of Thought

The offensive heat of the blistering summer sun made the air ripple with vapor waves over the bleached yellow dunes of sand. It was enough to drive any creature that wasn’t cold blooded to shelter under any rock it could find. The heat penetrated deep into the outcroppings of stone that hadn’t been buried under centuries of sand, warming the hollows of many wasteland creatures. Those that had been fortunate enough to be born with scales happily sat out in the daylight, soaking their hide.

Animals, however, were nowhere near one cavern that rested in a pointed rock formation that jutted unnaturally from the dunes. A dull gray stone abode looked as though a single claw-tipped finger was accusing the sky of injustice. Smoke billowed from an open hole, venting the tainted air away from the occupant. It left black lines of soot that clung to the ridges on the rock.

The pacing of hooves echoed from the cavern, muted only by the crackle of a baleful fire that bathed the insides of the hovel in green. Above the fire sat a cauldron that simmered in the heat. Blue-black sludge boiled within the cast iron pot and from the mixture arose a mist that swirled in an endless vortex. Soon enough, a picture formed.

“Torlak,” the picture spoke. It began to move, the blurry image shifting and shuddering, shimmering with an ethereal presence that wasn’t quite all there. “What is it?” The unmistakable flap of heavy wings could be heard coming through the mild static the magical communication hummed with.

“I’ve received word that my slaves are ready to move. Though one hasn’t reported back.” Torlak responded. “The totems are in place and the process will begin soon enough. It will take months, but we’re prepared for it. How are things on your end, Horivan? They still suspect nothing, I hope.”

“Of course. I’ve managed to worm into the king’s ear on this matter. He still cares for his son, after all. I’ve not spoken of your involvement, however. Merely the idea of what should happen should the magic begin to wane.” Horivan chuckled mirthfully. “But what of that one that hasn’t reported back?”

“An insurance policy. You’ll likely be reading about him soon enough.”

“Insurance policy? Torlak, that isn’t--” Horivan was cut off, sending his cloak shuffling in agitation.

“You keep working within the palace. You needn’t worry about my little minion. He is on a timer that lines up perfectly with our plans. And we’ve a long way to go before this is done. We’re merely entering the second phase, Horivan.”

The hood came off, revealing the gargoyle underneath. “You listen here you crazed summoner! I wasn’t told of any ‘insurance policy’! This wasn’t part of the plan and if you truly wish for this scheme to work, then we need to be filled in. I’m guessing I’m the first to hear about this, aren’t I?”

“That you are. Because as I said, this minion is on a very special task to make sure this succeeds. If he fails, he fails. If he succeeds, we succeed only that much more. He is merely there to take care of those in power.” Torlak shrugged his shoulders. “It’s of little consequence of what he does.”

The gargoyle sighed. “Very well. I need to return to my duties. Hopefully that minion of yours contacts you soon enough with good news. But I want us all to convene and to discuss it. I’ll contact you soon.”

With that, the conversation ended and the vortex collapsed in on itself. Torlak stood with a grim look on his face. A hand went waving over the bubbling caldron and extinguished the flames with a whisper of magic. He had ceased his pacing in order to converse, but went right back into the pattern his hooves wore into the stone.

“The king on our side,” he murmured to himself, “will be a boon, but I worry about his queen.” A hand came up to stroke along the beard that hung from his chin. “She’ll likely dissuade him--or attempt it.” Torlak stopped in his pacing a moment before looking back to the cauldron. “And then there is Scorpan to deal with...”

The centaur sighed and approached a tapestry on his wall. It held the silhouette of a goat-like being terrorizing the world. “The things I do to return you to this world… I know you are out there in the void somewhere. With the magic of that accursed land, we will undo the bindings of this world. By their blood I will see you returned to us.”

Torlak trailed off and looked toward the dunes outside of his hovel. “Ah, I wonder where my little gambit is...”

“You decimated a small group of dummies without remorse and then grinned like a madpony after it was done. Let me say that again: You destroyed ten ponies in the span of a few minutes and one of them was a replica alicorn. Of course they’re going to avoid you.” Silver deadpanned with her head looking up at Thorne as he stared out the window.

“It was pretty cool, though,” Dusk said through a yawn. He had the goggles Thorne had made for him strapped around his head and was laid down in the train seat. “Scary cool. Like, save the kingdom in a scary cool way.” He rambled.

Thorne smiled at that. “Thanks, Dusk. Maybe if something threatens the kingdom, I’ll go down as a hero. That’d change their opinions quickly…” He had looked back to the thestral colt, the window unable to retain his attention. His head turned to look at the mother who was just staring at Thorne behind her goggles. “...What?”

“You look better without the stubble shadow. And your mane has started to grow. I think it’d look nice long.”

“Out of left field, but okay. I’ll keep the face shaved and grow out my hair…” He brought flesh fingers to run over his freshly trimmed goatee. “Goatee is fine, though, yeah?”

Silver nodded. “Makes you look more refined. The shadow just made you look homeless.”

“I was homeless, Silver.”

The mare rolled her eyes. “Well you’ll have a home once you get done with this task.” That got a ‘mmm’ in response and him looking back out the window, watching the ponies milling about as the train made ready to leave. She sighed. “Still worried about what they think?”

“No, not really. It stung, but I knew it was coming… Just this feeling that has stuck with me since arriving in Canterlot. Inside the castle I didn’t feel it, but every time I walked outside, it was there…” Thorne admitted. “It was the reason I got so angry and skewered that dummy after first meeting you… Thought maybe I’d dealt with it, but as we walked the streets, it came back. Just less of it, I guess. It’s hard to describe.”

Dusk let another adorable yawn. “Maybe you’re not good in cities, Thorne.”

“I didn’t feel it in Vanhoover when I arrived there. And it’s just this feeling of unease. I hope I don’t feel it in the Crystal Empire, but I just know I will.” Thorne responded with a sigh.

“What do you think is causing it?” Silver asked as the train began to lurch and the last few passengers found their seats.

“Magic. But I don’t think it is good magic. I don’t know. It’s all new and unfamiliar. You two try to get some rest. It’s a long train ride.” Thorne looked back to the two and offered a soft smile to dissuade them from pressing further.

Thorne watched as the greenery passed them. They had their tickets paid for by the princesses and now sat on the Friendship Express, a train that ran all over Equestria. Apparently it was the only train. His companions had made themselves at home, snuggling with one another opposite him.

The seats were obscenely pink--the train itself was just as pink. Green carpet clashed violently with the pink, but gave it this look of grass. The cars were spacious and rivaled the old steam passenger trains he knew of his world. Six cubicles with two varnished benches in those cubicles and the benches facing one another. Each bench was cushioned and comfortably sat three or even four ponies, depending on their size and how close they wanted to be.

Yet the train wasn’t crowded. It seemed the train was more of a private affair and mostly served as was needed. He wondered where they found the coal to run it, for he could see steam pouring from the engine. Though he had heard ‘rock farming’ was something ponies did, so maybe they had a way of growing certain things. The idea amused yet terrified him. Ponies with the capabilities to grow certain minerals as they needed would be gold-egg-laying geese.

‘How has this society not collapsed into anarchy? Not fallen into greed?’ He asked himself, eyes going listless and ignoring the gorgeous scenery that rushed by. ‘Is this what humanity could achieve if we worked together? Worked for the good of your fellow po--human.’ He caught his grammatical slip-up and smirked inwardly. The smirk faded swiftly as his mind went darker.

‘This is what Master seeks to destroy. I find myself questioning it more and more yet still no answers. Why summon an assassin? Why does some hermit want these four dead?’

He ran his hand over his face and rubbed at his eyes. ‘Why am I now growing a conscious? Has it always been there? Is it something about this world? Something about the inhabitants who have been nothing but kind and open, if a bit hesitant? … Am I just a sucker for a cute face? Is that it? Or maybe I’m getting a sense of fulfillment I never got back home.’

Thorne shut his eyes and crossed his arms. ‘Maybe I need to immerse myself in the darkness. See the underside of this world. I’m sure it’s there. Remind my heart that all isn’t as it seems.’ There was a mental pause. His eyes opened and looked over his black attire. ‘Fuck, that was full of edge and angst. Gods above…’

His vision went to Dusk and Silver who still slept peacefully. ‘Things do not add up. Assassinations happen for political gain. Yet this doesn’t have anything seemingly political about it. It seems more like revenge if that’s the case, but then why go through the ordeal of summoning another being? Surely there are spiteful beings in this realm that would do it. And some hermit that is out in the sticks doesn’t seem the type to have enemies that are the four powerful alicorns. So what am I missing?’

A sigh escaped him and he rolled his head back, staring at the ceiling. ‘A lot. There is a huge gap there I feel. None of the threads add up. And here I am going to kill a bear.’

Thorne was idly humming a tune as the train carried on into the night. They had just stopped at a town he didn’t catch the name of and allowed everyone to disembark to stretch their legs. Now they were back at full speed, chugging along the tracks. Silver and her colt had settled back, enjoying a snack of sweets that was brought by the stewardess that occasionally travelled the isles.

The human had lain down in the seat he occupied. He had already removed the crossbow and set it under the seat, but now he had to also remove his belt and pouches in order to lie comfortably. He had a leg propped up over a bent knee, his foot bobbing to the slow beat of his own hum.

“That song you hum… It is mournful. What is it?” Silver finally asked, making Thorne open his eyes and look to her.

“I’m sorry, is it distracting? I can stop.” He offered.

“No,” Silver shook her head, “just wondering what it is from and why it sounds so sad. I’ve found you often humming it to yourself.”

Thorne sat up and shuffled in the seat to get comfortable again. “It’s actually something I came up with. And it sounds sad because the mental image in my head when I hum it is sad.”

“Why is it sad?” Dusk asked, that look of childlike wonderment blazing through those expressive pony eyes.

Thorne had to look away. “Because I always loved stories of tragic heroes. The image in my head is a hero who must accept a pact with something unspeakably evil or those he loves will die. The pact will allow him to save the ones he loves. They beg him to not accept it as they lie dying around him, but he knows the only choice is to accept or they all die in vain. In exchange for their lives, he’ll become twisted and scorned for the evil powers he has.”

“But he’s still a hero, isn’t he?” Dusk pressed, leaning forward in the seat to hear more.

“He is. That heroic heart burns brightly.”

“So then he needs to hide himself in order to do good?”

“Very good, kid. That is indeed how the story goes.” Thorne looked back to Dusk with a hint of pride, glad he could grasp the idea. “It is sad that he is shunned for what he had to choose, but he’s still a hero through-and-through. He merely needs to change his approach.” He winked and put his hands on his knees. “Want to hear the little song that goes with it?”

The colt gave an excited flap of his wings and rose up. “I do, I do!” He floated back down and turned to look at his mother who just chuckled and looked to Thorne with a nod to continue.

His chest rose and fell a moment, steadying himself and finding his voice. What rang out was haunting and melancholic, his pipes opening up and shifting his tone to depths of the abyss that took Silver by surprise.

“When darkness falls upon you, I’ll be there.
I will save you from torment and despair.
I’ll pay any price to see you smile.
And when the people turn,
And wish to see me burn,
I’ll seethe in the darkness they revile.
Grieve not my pain, my friends.
I chose this in the end.
Grieve not my pain, my friends…
I chose this in the end.”

He concluded the hymn and sat back, eyes opening to see Dusk moved to tears. Silver held firm, her hoof now stroking at the boy’s mane. “It’s so sad, momma! I could see the scene!” The colt exclaimed, his blurry vision turning to look up at his mother. She smiled softly and nodded. “Ya, mai mik Feli.”

“The power of music, apparently.” Thorne said as a wave of discomfort washed over him for making a child cry. He shifted in the seat and lay himself back down. “Like I said, Dusk, it is merely a little mental image. A telling description of what could be.”

“A telling description of what you want to be,” Silver corrected.

“Maybe. But I am a mercenary, not a hero. A mercenary that has done several criminal things back in his world. Not things that a hero would do.” Thorne retorted.

“It doesn’t hurt to try and aim for lofty heights. Even if you aim for the moon and miss, you still wind up among the beautiful stars.”

“If you say so.” Thorne huffed and closed his eyes.

“Why wear a vest and shirt when it covers nothing a stallion would be looking at?” Thorne deadpanned.

“Fashion and function. Pockets and slight armor.” Silver remarked proudly. “But where did such a question come from?” She had confusion written all over her face.

“Huh. Touché.” Thorne replied. “And because you complimented my appearance the other day. It looks quite nice on you. But I was curious if it was to accentuate on certain appeals. After reading up on pony anatomy, I could understand it.” He glanced to Dusk, trying to keep the conversation child-friendly.

Silver gave him a flat look. “Sounds like you’re admitting to being a stallion to who steals glances. Mai Feli, do not grow up to be a stallion like this one.”

“You wound me!” Thorne replied with feigned hurt feelings. Dusk snickered at the human who made an over-the-top gesture by putting his wrist to his temple as if fainting. He even made the motion of falling over in the seat. “Besides,” Thorne smirked, “I only steal glances from those who catch the eye.”

Silver smirked at the show. “Oh? Is that how it is? And what made me catch your eye?”

Thorne put a hand to his chin as he lay there. “I’m not sure. That dance that one night was lovely. You have an interesting language and I’m sure a whole story to tell.”

“Not much to go on,” Silver stated, “but I suppose it’s enough.” She shrugged.

“I suppose I haven’t asked much about your past or your culture. We’ve barely sat and talked.” He looked over to Dusk from his makeshift lounge. “And of course I’ve not gotten a chance to get to know you either, kid.”

“You never asked. You just kind of… accepted us, Thorne.” Silver shifted in her seat as if the words were awkward.

“You both accepted me, so why wouldn’t I?”

“That is true. Just… our kind has a lot of myths and legends that have faded over the years since the Nightmother’s return, but some of the feelings linger.” The thestral mare gave a remorseful sigh, her goggled eyes going from the human to the window, watching as the snowy landscape came into view.

Dusk looked at his mother and then followed her eyes. He boosted himself up with his wings in order to see. He flopped back down and gave a giddy shake, “We’re almost there!”

Thorne sat up. “Oh?” Golden eyes fell upon snow that sheeted the land. “I suppose we are.”

17. It Comes in Threes

“Magic is... “ He looked to Dusk. He gave a sigh of exasperation. “I’m not going to swear in front of the child, but you both know what I’m thinking. I know it.” Thorne rubbed his temples. The train had screeched to a halt. What had been a snowy landscape that had passed them by--landscape he was welcoming due to the gear they had packed--instead turned into bright meadows and warm breezes.

“You know I told you this,” Silver stated with her nose in the air, a smile of pride on her face.

“Yeah but…!” Thorne tried to protest. “Outside of the magical bubble, it’s a wintery wasteland that threatens everypony. Yet, due to… What was it again?!”

“The magic of love!” Dusk exclaimed, fluttering up in front of Thorne’s face.

“Love. Right. The magic of love. This ‘Crystal Heart’. It sounds… steal-able.” Thorne grunted in response, the snort causing the colt to giggle and float behind the human’s head. He swiftly found two little hind legs going around his neck and a pair of forehooves resting on the sides of his head. A small midnight-blue body was now pressed against the back of his skull.

“You don’t seem the stealing type, Thorne. Besides! They need it!”

“Kid, what are you doing?”

“Carry me!”

“You have wings!”

“But you know I’m a weak flier.”

The pain in Dusk’s voice tore at Thorne’s chest. “Okay, okay! Sheesh. And you don’t know what type I am! I could steal it. But I won’t. Not going to endanger a nation.” ‘Maybe.’

Silver just stared at the two before cracking a smile that turned into a giggle-snort. She just stood there on the platform with the two, ponies now looking at the trio, as she laughed for an extended period.

“It wasn’t that funny, Silvy…” Thorne muttered just loud enough for her to hear.

The mare brought a hoof up and brushed her fetlock under her eye, wiping an earnest tear. “It was for me! You folded so quickly!”

“Bah!” Thorne began to walk, earning another giggle from the mother and the son. The upright stallion gave a sigh. “I have a soft spot for kids, I’ll have you know. That much should be obvious.”

“It was,” Silver stated matter-of-factly with a sagely nod. Dusk mimicked it.

“Children are the future, Nightshade.” His tone got serious. “I didn’t have a childhood. In my line of work, I took mothers and fathers away from children who needed them there.”

Dusk blinked. “Mama! Thorne falosi nume tu adevirte!”

“Ya, Feli, ese biine. Si numaste Damien.” Silver spoke gently to relieve the colt’s worried tone.

Thorne heard his name twice. Once the name he always went by, then the real name. He felt a twang of guilt. “Hmm. That’s right. I never told you, Dusk. I apologize. I try to never lie to children. But just know, my birth name is Damien. But like your mother, I go by something else for… reasons.” There was a quiet ‘oh’ from the muzzle resting in his gray hair.

“So you believe them to be the future and never lie to them, Damien?” Silver questioned.

Thorne went quiet. They had begun to walk into the depths of the Crystal Empire. The warmth and love that radiated from the spires of the palace was intoxicating and invigorating to the soul. It was a beacon, both literal and metaphorical. Surrounding them as they began to tread into the streets were even more beautiful homes and structures made entirely from crystal. It was as if they were grown or summoned up with magic.

Brilliant hues of green, purple, pink, red, blue, violet, and amber all littered the lines of sight. The very ground itself shone with crystal brilliance that was enough to pain the eyes if bright enough light was cast upon the streets. There was no trash. No homeless. It was more pristine than Canterlot. And the citizens that milled about all looked fulfilled and happy--genuinely happy to be there.

The familiar feeling returned to Thorne. Though this time it was sickeningly present and alarming to the senses. He felt his stomach do a back flip. His every hair stood up on end with the fight-or-flight response tickling his brain incessantly. He put his hand to his gut and kept shooting glances everywhere.

Silver picked up on his actions. “You feel it again, don’t you?”

“Huh?” Her words brought his attention. “Oh. Yeah. Sorry. I’m sure it’s nothing. What were we talking about…?” He asked, sucking it up and choosing to tough out the pain. “Oh right. Yes. Children are the future and I try not to lie to them. They learn such terrible things from us adults, don’t they? I think if we raised them better, the world would be better.”

“But you took mommies and daddies from kids, didn’t you?”

Dusk’s question made the man wince. “I… I did. I hated it, but I got paid for it. I couldn’t say no in a lot of cases. I had a silly dream where I got out of my business and opened an orphanage as a way to repent for my sins. Children deserve a chance to live and laugh and enjoy their youth. They deserve to not be ostracized. They deserve to have a happy home to call their own.”

“At least you’re sorry, then…” Dusk said, hugging the head he was clinging to a bit tighter.

‘You’ve no idea, kid.’ Thorne’s mental agony rang hard, suppressing the physical pain for the moment. “That… makes me want to ask where your--'' His momentary lapse in the physical returned with fervor. He clutched at his chest and doubled over. He realized it was the curse mark suddenly flaring to life. A bright and hot flash-fire ignited within the confines of his chest, radiating the searing heat throughout his torso.

His doubling over nearly sent Dusk flying from his perch, but he was able to hang on. Both he and Silver cried out for Thorne’s sake only for him to raise his hand in defiance. “I’m fine!” He lied through a gasp of air. “Nightshade, take Dusk and go to the castle. I need to find some place quiet. And don’t lie to your son about this. He is going to be a strong stallion,” Thorne let a cough, “he can take it. I can tell.”

Without hesitation, Silver nodded and flew up, scooping her colt into her arms. Dusk tried to resist but was scolded in their tongue from the mare. Thorne looked to the pair to see them off, though he couldn’t help but focus on the pained expression Silver was giving him. She got an arrogant smirk back in return, trying to tell her it would be fine.

The ponies in the street noticed the strange creature doubled over in some semblance of pain but chose to keep their distance once he stood straight and played it off. He gave a few nods and a polite smile, opting to cut down an alleyway and away from prying eyes. He pulled his hood up, though the thought of ‘What good does that do, I’m still pretty recognizable’ came to the forefront of his mind.

Still the pain burned in his chest. ‘I’m not dead yet so this must be a… summons? A communication? Warning perhaps? Oh gods, did he see me? Hear my thoughts?! Fuck! Okay. Calm down. Think. We can test this. Just need to find a quiet corner…’

He stopped in the alley, a window catching his eye. It was inset in a crystalline home that was auburn in color. It was large enough for a person to fit through. Drab yellow curtains that covered the interior from prying eyes were pulled closed. He couldn’t see any lights through the fabric, but he wondered if anyone was home. Keen eyes scoured left, right, and above. Again the sickening thought of magical scrying came to his mind.

His right slipped behind him, digging into his belt line to pull a small pry bar he had resting in a loop above one of the satchels. ‘First, we take this out and we…’ He rapped the metal against the window pane. He stepped back from the window and hid the piece of breaking-and-entering equipment. Daylight still pierced the sky and drenched the buildings in light, but he was thankful that the shadows grew long in the alley.

‘If the curtains move, then we get their attention. I bet they’ll believe me if I say I’m working with the crown.’

Thorne stood and tried to focus, blocking out the pain. He had endured torture before on several occasions, but this was new. He was thankful that it started at maximum and then simmered to a constant annoyance. While the storm for bodily control raged, his eyes focused on the curtain and gave a count. After a full thirty seconds, he stepped back to the window and prepared himself.

The bar slipped easily under the window and with a bat of his palm against the curvature of the bar, it settled deeply between the sill and the pane with an audible creak. His right hand gripped and began to forcefully yank back while his left sat ready to slip fingers under the window to lift it up. It took several pulls but it finally gave way. With the pane now resting on his fingers, he pushed the bar back into the loop from which it came.

Next came the slow task of checking the surroundings once more and lifting the window up. He was trying not to make any noise that wasn’t above ‘house settling’ ambience. He had already made a few noises that would draw attention, but the curtain remained motionless. Thorne raised the window with his left and daintily gripped the yellow fabric, slowly pulling it enough for him to peek inside the room.

He was met with a darkened room that had light pouring in from under the door on the opposite side. Thorne didn’t hear any immediate movement or talking, nor did he see the light flickering or dancing. “Sunlight,” he whispered to himself as he shifted the curtain more to reveal the entirety of the room to the alley. A bed was next to the window, empty of its occupant, but was made and tidy. Wooden tiles that were freshly swept rested along the floor, all of it stained and polished. The same coloring was applied to the dresser that sat along the right of the wall. It paralleled the bed on the left.

A small, simple bedroom. He wasted no time in climbing inside after making sure he could get away with stepping inside. The wood gave gentle noises under his boots, but not enough to raise alarms. Once inside, Thorne idly drug his left hand over the gold metal frame of the bed before turning to eye the room some more. A table with an empty pitcher and a mug sat on an end table that was hugged by the bed and the corner of the room. An unlit candle that had mostly been burned also rested there.

The walls were decorated with posters here and there. Happy smiling faces with cheerful slogans. Wonderbolts and pictures of the royal guard; even the princesses were included. Thorne had a passing thought of wondering if all pony rooms were decorated this way. The walls themselves were a gentle white, making those curtains rather tasteful in color. His eyes went to the dresser. Make-up and mane-ties were sitting out in the open. The dresser itself held a small mirror on a stand while a full-body mirror sat next to it on the side all its own.

He stood with the bed on his left, dresser on his right, his eyes now going forward to the opposite wall to the window. A gold closet handle stuck out like a sore thumb, the frame between several posters. The math went quickly in his head as he stepped lightly to the dresser, gripping the mirror and tugging it with him. Next he went to the closet and vanished inside of it. Thorne felt the clothes surround him, but it was quiet and dark. He couldn’t see what this pony had for clothing, but whatever the design, they had good taste in fabric. It was soft against the back of his head.

Thorne knelt on one knee and brought his hand to his chest, touching over the spot where the mark was. He didn’t know of any chant or magical word to bring it to focus. He merely was told to touch it--and he wasn’t about to disrobe in order to fully grasp it.

Luck was on his side as that didn’t need to happen. Instead, a sickly green flame popped into existence over his heart. In that instant, all the pain subsided. He still had that gut wrenching feeling in his bowels, but at least the annoying bit was dealt with. The flame then leapt from his chest to the mirror in the darkness. The glass superheated itself for a split moment, turning blinding in the darkness and making him look away. It ended in a second. Next the flame soaked into the glass and began to swirl as if going down a drain. Finally the image of the Master appeared.

“Minion!” His voice boomed only for Thorne to suddenly raise his hand and ‘shh!’ the centaur. “Oh,” he corrected and lowered to a slight whisper, “on the job?”

“Kind of. I thought I wasn’t going to be contacted, I’d be the one contacting you!... Master.” He caught his anger, hitching it in his throat, and remembered to honor the one who held his life in their magical grasp.

‘Time to test: Can you read these thoughts you arrogant old fuck? Huh?! You should know you’re a worthless excuse for a summoner!’

“I know I said I’d let you contact me, but things change,” the Master said without skipping a beat. He didn’t hear Thorne’s thoughts, it seemed. Or he was good at blocking them out. And that was a thought that gave Thorne even more pause. “Things are in motion that cannot be undone and my allies worry that you would be a liability.”

“Allies? So you aren’t just some old hermit…”

“Astute as always.”

“Wait. Things in motion..? Is that why I keep feeling uneasy within the cities with the princesses?” Thorne pressed in a worried whisper.

“That… Ah. The magic of this world is growing around you then. Good, good. Maybe you’ll figure some way to use it to your favor. But yes. We have agents in those cities. In fact, you may be able to assist them. Where are you now?” The Master brought a hand to his beard, stroking it, as his eyes appraised the shadowed human.

“Crystal Empire. I’ve got one of Luna’s bats placed on me for surveillance. But she won’t be a problem.” Thorne responded, trying to make the words sound venomous. In truth, he quite enjoyed the mare and her son. “She merely needs to be kept around and in the dark.”

“Good, good. It figures she would be wary of you. She always was the untrusting one. But the assistance is crucial. That is why I contacted you.”

“I ask that you don’t do it again, Master,” Thorne pleaded, “that spell hurts and can break my focus. If I was in dire combat, I would have lost.”

“That isn’t my problem,” the Master responded coldly.

‘Fuck you too, asshole.’ “Of course, my Master. What is it you wish of this servant?” Thorne bowed his head.

“Go and seek out my other slaves within the Crystal Empire. They will tell you what they need.”

Thorne raised his head and nodded. “It will be done.” ‘Vague as ever.’ “I should go before the occupants of this home return.”

“Of course.” With that, the image faded and the mirror returned to its normal state.

Thorne let a soft sigh and pressed his ear to the door, waiting to hear any signs of life. When he heard none, he quickly abandoned his hiding spot, put the mirror back as best he could, and darted out the window, shutting it behind him.

‘Magic of the world, huh? Something tells me his other servants are the reason why I get this feeling,’ Thorne thought as he briskly walked away from the scene. ‘Also the reason the alicorns and I keep getting those visions presented to us. Good to know I’m not the only slave working toward their goal. And also good to know there is a collective. Now what to do, what to do…’

Silver flew away from Thorne, looking back a few times with a painful expression. Her son was in her arms, the little colt being hugged tightly by her forehooves to hold him against her chest. The main thoroughfare led right up to the Crystal Palace. A statue of a small dragon holding a heart shape in outstretched claws was in the plaza before the entrance to the castle. She landed herself on the tail-side of the statue so that they could be away from the ponies that walked the busy street.

Ahead of them a short distance away was the entrance to the castle and two guards flanked the doorway in crystal-like armor. Silver set her son down and sighed out. “We will sit here until Thorne returns,” she spoke in their tongue to the colt. “It would be strange to show up without him when they expect all of us, no?”

The colt nodded. “Mom, what’s wrong with him?”

“What isn’t wrong with that stallion…” Silver rolled her eyes behind the goggles. “But right now, he’s dealing with a curse.” There was a tiny gasp. “Yes, that’s right. A curse. I don’t fully understand it and we shouldn’t pry, but whoever brought him to Equestria cursed him. And he’s already lived a rather cursed life.”

“What do you mean?” There was a tilt of Dusk’s head in confusion.

“I pried a little too much into his journal--” Silver was interrupted by a “Mom! How could you?!” She waved her hoof. “I know, I know. I shouldn’t have. He’s already reprimanded me for it. But his youth was troubled. Not much has changed. But it explains why he’s so kind to children. He doesn’t want anyone to end up like him.”

Dusk stood, “Then we should go find him and help him!” A hoof went pulling him into an embrace.

“We will, my little Dusk. We will help him. But we need to do it slowly. If we push too hard, he may just turn his back to us. You understand, don’t you?” Silver looked down to her son, letting him pull from the hug slightly.

“Why would he turn his back on us? He’s a good pony, isn’t he? He saved me!” The colt's voice was starting to wane and slip into despair. His expressive eyes looked as though they might shed tears and those tall, fluffy ears went drooping down.

“Thorne has a lot of issues with trust.” Silver stated flatly. “And is very paranoid.”

“Then how do we help slowly?”

“By being there for him when he needs us. Showing him that the world isn’t out to get him. And by being friends.” She gave a motherly smile.

Her son nodded and gave a gentle smile back. It faded quickly, however, as more questions entered his mind. “We will find a way to fix his curse, right Mom?” He got a nod with a ‘mhm’. “And then will he… return home?” “No idea.” “Will we stay with him if he stays?” “Maybe. We’ll definitely be around.” “I think he was going to ask about dad…”

That last question made Silver’s face twist in surprise and then morph to sorrow. “When--Oh. Right… He was about to ask something when that pain overtook him…” She reached out and ruffled her son’s mane, “Look at my little Dusk paying so much attention. Now if only you’d do that in school.” The colt snickered which made his mother sigh. “He probably was. He mentioned it, but he has a point; we’ve barely spoken about personal lives. He isn’t a very open person. And I suppose without being prompted, we've not talked about ourselves.”

“It’s our job to open him up, right?”

“It is. So we’ll probably have to speak to him about a lot. But first we’ve got a lot to take care of.” There was a nod from her son. “And you should know all of this remains between the three of us, right?” Another nod. “Good.”

Dusk yawned out after a solid minute of silence, “It is odd being awake during the day…”

Silver gave a soft giggle and nodded, “It is. But thanks to these goggles Thorne made for us, at least we’re not being harmed.”

“But it’s so hot, mom!” Dusk protested, flapping his wings to create a draft around him in an effort to cool off.

“It is very warm, yes. We’re much better suited to the cold and the dark nights.” She shifted and stood before him, opening her leathery wings up and flapping them a few times to help cool her son off. “At least the temperature around here is spring instead of Canterlot’s summer.”

Silver’s ears flicked as she heard heavy footfalls approaching. She paused her motions and looked around the statue. Thorne approached, though his mind seemed riddled with questions. His eyes were down on the ground, his hands in his pockets, his brow knotted in thought. “Thorne’s back,” she said to Dusk.

The colt shot to attention and began looking around. Finally he saw the human who hadn’t seen them. Dusk flapped his wings hard and took to the air. There was a large inhale that made Silver flinch, knowing what her son was about to do. “Thorne!” The boy shouted, snapping Thorne’s attention to the source.

The man’s expression softened and he came around the statue to the waving son and waiting mother. “Sorry to make you two wait,” he said as he drew close. He took his hands from his pockets and put them behind his head. “I’m fine now, though. Dusk, did your mother explain everything?”

“You say that like I wouldn’t!” Silver huffed, her accent coming in thick after speaking so long in her tongue.

“You’re going to be okay, Thorne! We’re going to help you!” Dusk’s tone, though full of that same accent, was also full of resolve. He fluttered toward Thorne’s face. “And yes, momma explained!”

“Glad to hear it,” Thorne responded with a half smile. “I thought you’d be sad or upset, but instead, you seem resolute in aiding me.” He reached out and rubbed the colt’s head. “Sorry to cut the piggy-back ride short. I’ll make it up to you. We’ll have a night of ice cream and games. And that’s a promise.”

“Really?!” The colt’s voice almost squeaked from the excited pitch.

Thorne’s smile grew wider. “Really, really. Now come on. We’ve likely kept royalty waiting for long enough.”

The castle was oddly designed, inside and out. To Thorne, it reminded him of the Eiffel Tower. It stood on four legs of crystal that embedded deeply into the earth and four staircases led up into the castle proper on each leg. Each leg had a door and at each door two guards in crystal-like armor stared out at the opposite corner. These guards and the inside-facing openings all looked out into the half-moon shape of space the tower left below the first floor. In this space there sat the Crystal Heart, it magically floating between two crystalline pillars that jutted out--one from below the ground and one from the ceiling that would have been the castle’s first floor.

The entire design was confusing, though Thorne applauded them on having easily defended choke points. Not that choke points mattered when fighting a force that could either fly or use magic. A part of his mind went dark at that thought, wondering if earth ponies suffered the most casualties in times of war.

The trio had been expected and welcomed in by the guardians. Dusk was preoccupied by childlike wonder as he darted back and forth looking at the tapestries and paintings that decorated the main hall. Silver had tried to rein him in only for Thorne to tell her to let him enjoy it. She reluctantly settled on ‘keep within sight’, which Dusk happily agreed on. Thorne was sharing Dusk’s appreciation for the art but with more inward emotion than outward. Golden eyes traced over the art as they approached another set of stairs.

At the top, a stallion guard met them. Silver exchanged words with him, though the stallion seemed well informed as to who was coming. He asked the trio to wait for a few minutes as the prince and princess needed a few more minutes before meeting them in the throne room. It gave Thorne a brief moment to prepare himself and to speak to the two thestrals in his company.

“So, you two should be aware, since you’ve not been around as this phenomenon happens… Magic is bound to happen when I meet this alicorn. It will be metaphorical in some way, or perhaps esoteric, or maybe some type of warning. I don’t know.”

The two looked at him and raised an eyebrow in unison. Thorne simply shrugged and looked back toward the large ornate door. It was another minute of awkward silence before the guard returned, motioning the three forward to the door. Thankful for the reprieve, Thorne stepped forward, flanked by the two batponies.

The door opened to a rainbow of shimmering crystals that glowed with power. It radiated brightly from the seat of the throne where two regal ponies sat. There was no announcing their presence; Thorne would have been embarrassed should they have gotten a regal welcome and he was shielding his eyes from the light. As they approached the throne behind the guard, it got dimmer. Something that made the bright pink alicorn rise to three hooves with a bundled blanket in her fetlocks. Her alarm made Thorne put his hands to his daggers.

“Stop right there!” The alicorn demanded. “Come no further!”

There was a confused, “Cadence?”, from the white unicorn stallion beside her.

Thorne obliged the command and ceased, but drew his daggers and crouched slightly, readying to fight.

From beside him, the same confused tone rang out. “Thorne, what are you doing?!”

Thorne’s eyes trained on the alicorn a moment, each of them staring each other down. But his eyes saw movement ahead of him still. “Silver! The guard!” Thorne commanded with a booming voice. Silver’s eyes looked to him and then to the guard who hadn’t obeyed the command. Her eyes went wide as sudden adrenaline spiked and her heart went into her throat.

The moment Thorne called attention to it, Cadence looked to see the guard and flinched in horror that her suspicions were wrong. “Shining!” She shouted.

In that same instant that the guard was ousted, he turned his head to reach back into a hidden pocket on his armor and pulled a dagger with his teeth. The earth pony guard stallion then lurched forward, a crazed look in their burgundy eyes.

Shining lit his horn, a barrier forming around the pair. The other guards in the room all leapt into action, drawing their weapons. “Assassin!” Shouts rang out, echoing off the crystal halls. The pony assassin crashed against the pink barrier that shielded the royals. Thorne heard the distinct cry of a filly from the blankets in Cadence’s arms and it sent his blood boiling.

Instead of acting on the urge to kill, he knelt down. “Dusk, come here! Stay behind me!” He felt the tiny thestral go ducking behind him.

Silver took a leap into the air and shot up, using the tall room to her advantage. At the apex, she flipped. In that time, the assailant backed away from the now erected barrier. He turned away from the pair and looked to Thorne with desperate eyes. A shaggy velvet green coat was shabbily covered by the armor the fake guard wore. His head went back and forth, seeing that he was surrounded by steadily encroaching guards.

“You! Master Torlak said you’d--!” There was a sudden loud ‘clang’ as hooves from a speeding thestral careened into the back of the would-be assassin’s cranium. There was a whistle that escaped Thorne as she managed not only to smash into the back of the target’s head, but also was able to stop so quickly.

The earth pony went tumbling down the stairs that led to the throne. They were swiftly surrounded by pointing spears. The command to arrest and take the guilty party away was issued from a slightly shaken prince. The alicorn, however, stood resolute.

“Wow Silvy, you knocked him clear into next week… Here I was thinking you’d just kill him.” Thorne’s voice expressed how impressive he had found the feat. He stood up, sheathing his daggers. “You okay, Dusk?” There was a soft ‘ya’ as Dusk emerged from behind the human.

Silver trotted back to Thorne’s side like she had just won a prize. Head held high and lifting her hooves up a little more. There was even a little swagger in her steps and a wiggle in her tail. “I do not need to kill in order to subdue a target. Besides, how else does one extract information if not from a living pony?”

“Point taken little miss show mare…” Thorne chuckled. He shook his head and looked back to the three on the throne. “And here I was expecting magic to explode all around us--”

Just as he spoke the words, the door shut, signaling that they were without the offender within the throne room. The crystals in the room still simmered with dim light but then all suddenly went black. It was a tidal wave that poured out from beneath Thorne’s feet, the darkness encroaching on everything and everyone.

A brilliant pink heart ignited from above Princess Cadence. The heart was joined by a shield of brilliant white, then a blue heart that had snow dancing around it. Each heart radiated love that held no bounds. The shield held a promise of protection and of safe days. It would take whatever beating it had too to ensure the hearts kept beating.

Next to enter the projection was a bare skeleton. However, in place of the left arm, there was a black fire that burned in the shape of an arm. The fingers instead were claw-like. From its eyes there poured a strange purple smoke. In its chest beat a small heart. It was weak and sickly, but each step the skeleton took, the heart grew a little bigger and beat a little stronger.

Finally two bats entered into the picture. They swirled around the skeleton as it tried to ward them away. It wasn’t threatening them, but it kept trying to make distance by swinging that dark arm at them. They were not dissuaded. Instead, they shifted into daggers and pierced the heart. The scene concluded as the skeleton fell to its knees and produced a black rose. It placed it before the shield and the hearts then vanished.

“The irony isn’t lost on me. This world has very comedic timing,” Thorne stated. In truth, he was covering up the chill he could feel in his marrow.

“What just happened?” Shining Armor had lowered the barrier finally, giving an exhaustive sigh.

“A better question is why these crystals are still dimmed.” Cadence sat back down, rocking the baby in her arms in an attempt to quiet the worried sounds she was making.

“Well. I want to laugh at the obvious knight in shining armor joke there, but I’m sure it’s been made to death. That, Prince Shining Armor, was something the world chooses to do for some reason when I am in the presence of an alicorn for the first time! It may happen again, or never again! I don’t know. And the meanings are always… convoluted.”

Thorne bowed slightly. “I am Thorne, this is Silver, and her son Dusk. As I’m sure you’re well aware. And Princess Cadence! I do not know why the crystals are so dull and listless, though the three of us thank whatever magic causes it, due to how sensitive our eyes are too bright lights.”

“Wait, your eyes are sensitive to light? But you can walk in the daylight!” Dusk exclaimed.

“I’ve had time to grow accustomed to it. I wouldn’t recommend you two try it because I’m pretty sure your eyes are meant for low light. My sensitivity merely came from a birth defect.” Thorne turned and gave a cheeky grin to the youngster before turning back. “But that’s getting off topic.”

“Indeed.” Cadence sighed out. “Sorry, Thorne. This is likely some type of strange magic at work, but I can’t help but feel worried.”

“That is your job, princess. You worry for your subjects. Even when they just tried to assault you. The princess of love, after all.”

“And I thank you, Silver, for defending us. You shouldn’t have had too, but I’m glad you were here.”

Shining stood up and cleared his throat. “But what was he talking about? Torlak? He was looking at you, wasn’t he Thorne?”

‘There’s the question I was hoping to avoid.’ “In truth…? No idea. I’ve not the faintest idea who he was talking about.” Thorne gave a shrug, his face refusing to offer a trace of the lie. His mind had already started to rapidly connect dots.

Cadence gave Thorne a wary look. Her gaze went to her child. “I need to take care of Flurry Heart. We’ve a room waiting for you three--just the one, sorry. We can discuss what all this mission entails later,” Cadence let the stoic façade fall, shifting from princess to mother.

Thorne went to kneeling, his fist on the ground. He bowed his head. “Of course, Princess Cadence. We appreciate your generosity.” Silver and Dusk looked to him but followed the motion, bowing and slightly kneeling.

The princess gave a soft smile and waved a hoof. “Excuse us.” She looked to her husband. With a nod they both arose and went off to another part of the castle.

‘Dimming crystals, a broad-daylight assassination attempt, and a personal call from Master Torlak. Oh it can only go up from here!’

18. Gambles

Thorne, Silver, and Dusk had all been escorted by a small squad of guards to the single room they were now bound to share. Thorne had the passing thought of them believing he was another assassin or if this was them trying to be nice and protect them. Or maybe it was these guards being grumpy that Silver took food from their mouths.

Thorne held the door for the two before stepping in himself. “Well it is certainly glossier than Canterlot. Perhaps even a little better in terms of décor--though everything made of crystal makes me wonder how hard that bed is.”

Dusk took that as a challenge as he went flying onto the sheets and bounced up a few times. “Nice and soft!”

“Oh yeah?” Thorne snickered. He pulled the crossbow from his back and set it by the door. Next came his belt. The entire time, a sly grin was growing on his face. Finally, he jogged over to the bed and flopped down into it. “Look out!”

“Whoa!” Dusk hollered as he went soaring into the air.

Thorne shifted and reached out. “And gotcha!” He caught the small thestral on the return down to the sheets. They both shared a laugh as Silver just watched with a slight smirk. Thorne set the colt down and threw his arms out to the side to melt into the sheets. Dusk flipped onto his back and mimicked the action.

They rested upon a vermillion-coated bed; the sheets, bedding, and pillow cases all had differing darkness to the same hue. All around them outside the bed, a myriad of other colors besieged the room in varying ways. The floors seemed white, yet with each step one could see fractals of the crystalline structure that reflected light in a different hue. The walls themselves had gem-like patterns inlaid into them. Pillars that supported the room had facets like they had been cut to perfection.

Among the room sat traditional furniture, but that too seemed to be made of crystalline rock. Even the bed frame the two males lay lax upon was made of the substance. All of it wasn’t attached to the structure, yet blended seamlessly with it. A sofa sat in a corner with a regal gold cushion resting on the frame. Two chairs and a table sat near the middle of the room, the chairs seat holding the same colored cushion as the sofa. The table even had a vase that held a beautiful single flower; it’s petals in the shapes of tears. It was an aquamarine color, but it too, was crystal.

Thorne sat up and admired it all. “Just how does all this crystal get shaped? Get made? Where does it come from…?”

“This is the Crystal Empire, Thorne.” Silver gave him the obvious answer. An answer that made him crease his lips.

“Fair. Magic. Magic does wonders, apparently. What my people wouldn’t give to have something like this…” He gave a heavy sigh. “So. How do we split this room up? Bathing, changing clothes, sleeping? I don’t mind sleeping on the sofa or the floor. You two can have the bed.”

Silver raised an eyebrow. “Well, changing clothes or undressing doesn’t bother us, Thorne, but I can see how it might bother you.”

There was an audible smack of him facepalming. “Of course. Right. Well I’ve no shame, so,” he shrugged. “Guess that goes for bathing too, just taking turns. So, sleeping?”

Dusk popped his head up. “Bed is big enough for us to have sides!”

Thorne gave a hearty chuckle. “I don’t mind. Silver?” His gaze went from the colt to the colt's mother. She merely shrugged. “Well that was easy.” Thorne got up from his seat and moved to the table, taking a seat and leaning back in it. “So I’m guessing you both want a story, yeah? About what happened before the castle?”

Silver’s ears fell and her tail went limp. She lowered her head. “Only if you wish to speak of it, Damien.” She heard the drumming of fingers on the crystalline table as he mulled it over.

“Sure. Torlak. Apparently that’s his name. Centaur bas--mmm. No swearing.” He caught himself and sighed. “I’ve tried to gamble with my thoughts and actions, and so far I keep winning, so talking about this much should be fine.” Thorne paused, as if waiting for the mark to somehow take his life. Nothing changed.

“I still don’t know what counts as betrayal. But as far as he knows, I’m not betraying him. Nor have I thought about it or taken any action against him. Between him and the magic of this world giving strange visions, everything revolving around me is vague. One reason why I didn’t interfere with that minion of his and wanted you to take care of it, Nightshade.”

Silver perked up. “So that’s why! You put me in such a sudden spot! But…” she rolled her eyes and sighed, “of course you had no choice. If you acted, it may have been betrayal and you would have died.”

There was a sudden gasp as her hackles rose. “Does that mean you have to assist them?! He called out to you for help!” There was a long and drawn-out ‘mhm’ from the upright stallion. “You can’t!”

“Like I have a choice, Nightshade.” Thorne stated bluntly, eyes listless to her protests. Silver stamped a hoof to reiterate her point but it fell on deaf ears. “I know you don’t want me too, but I’m likely going to have to go set the screw-up free. I need to find a way to this group. They’re plotting something big. Something that takes a year to put together.”

“Cadence will know you released him!” Silver tried to restrain her voice from a shout.

Thorne picked up the flower and sniffed it. It smelled of the earth, but a hint of taffy. It confounded Thorne to no end how it smelled like taffy of all things. It sent his sweet tooth craving the substance. He set it back, refusing to acknowledge Silver’s point.

“Maybe she won’t…” Dusk’s gentle voice broke the tenuous silence.

Thorne made a hand motion, nodding his head and raising his eyebrows, silently saying ‘See?’. Silver closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, withdrawing herself from the discussion. “Sorry, Nightshade.” Thorne finally said as she went to the bed to sit.

“It’s fine. Just do it under cover of darkness and don’t get caught, seen, or kill anypony.” Silver stated, golden eyes shooting daggers at him.

Thorne stood and bowed. “Yes, dear.” There was a ‘hmph’ from the mare that only served to make Thorne wince. He shook his head and let a tired sigh. “Wonder if we’ll be invited to dinner or if Cadence will give us a personal visit…” he mused aloud.

“Likely dinner. With a lot of guards.” Silver responded.

We made it to the Crystal Empire. A month ago I arrived in Canterlot. Two weeks before that I was in a desert wasteland. I’ve travelled this land and barely seen any of it. Barely experienced any of it.

It hurts, honestly.

If this is to be the land I die in, I want to see it. I want to experience it. I want to go sight-seeing in Manehatten. I want to go gambling in Las Pegasus. See the pyramid near Somnambula. I want to actually enjoy Canterlot and the Crystal Empire. Even meet some of these griffons, hippogriffs, minotaurs, changelings, yaks, and even dragons.

Most of all? I want to see this ‘home’ in Ponyville. I want to make it a home.

The plot thickens, dear reader. As of writing this, I’ve seen an assassination attempt--a poor one--on Cadence. He claimed that I would help him from one ‘Master Torlak’. So my collar does have an owner's name on it.

I still don’t understand the magic in this world and what it’s trying to signal to me. It’s vague as can be, but everything seems to enjoy being vague. First I witness bloody rain and the world collapsing as I meet Tia and Lulu. And then some type of storm swirling around me but made of the same blood!

With Twilight and her friends, it was all of them as stars. They then stretched out their hooves to me. Or I guess what was me--it was a skeleton in a black cloak. Humans usually take that to mean ‘death’. It held two daggers that were dripping blood. But as they reached out, the skeleton vanished.

With Cadence, Shining Armor, and Flurry Heart… It was more cryptic than ever. This time the skeleton was bare. It stood before the trio--two hearts and one shield. Same as their cutie marks as I could tell. Yet this skeleton had a heart. Each time it stepped toward the three, the heart grew stronger. Then two bats go flying around and the skeleton, which had some fiery looking left arm and hand, decided to shoo them away! That didn’t work and instead they turned into daggers, piercing the still weak heart. Then it just falls over dead. It left a black rose at the foot of Cadence, Flurry, and Shining Armor.

I’ve no idea what any of this means.

What I do know is I’m supposed to seek out these other slaves to the Master. Aid them. Why the idiots tried to assassinate a princess in broad daylight is beyond me. Or maybe that wasn’t the plan. Maybe it was something else. Silver captured him alive so I’m planning on interrogating him tonight.

At least this journal helps with the thought process. It’s becoming rather soothing to write in it.

‘Well someone pick up that phone because she called it. Fuck.’

The trio was invited to dinner and the dining hall was entrenched in guards. Two stationed at each of the three entrances and five on either side of the table. They had not only been invited, but were escorted by a squad of five guards.

It pissed Thorne off. The urge to demand to know why they were so numerous weighed heavily on his mind. One for strategic reasons, but the other was a bit more personal. One he was trying hard not to voice. It was a burning question that he had no right to ask seeing as he was a mercenary himself--he understood the logic of someone wanting so many guards to protect them. Especially when one was a mother with a child. Not only that, but Shining Armor himself was a trained guard.

Still the question of ‘Why aren’t these guards serving the nation?’ burned in the back of his throat. His mind kept telling him that they should be out protecting the citizenry, but then it recoiled, informing him that there was nothing to protect against. Or rather, forces unseen were conspiring, but were slow moving and not a threat to anypony yet.

“Thorne?” The voice of Cadence broke the tension that was growing inside of him.

“Yes, your Majesty?”

“Thank you for coming and agreeing to deal with the problem plaguing residents out in the north.”

Thorne felt the placating tone in her voice. Practiced with years of regality. She had nothing but platitudes to give at the moment out of wanting to break the ice and make small talk over dinner without actually speaking with meaning. It only drove his ire up a notch.

‘Let it go, Thorne. Let it go. They’re serving the nation one way or another. Nothing you say will change it. She’s protecting her and her family with ample guardians. Let. It. Go.’

His eyes had been on the several guards, but now he focused on her and her husband and their daughter. He kept twiddling his fingers on the table as he distractedly tried to get his mind off the topic.

“It’s no problem, Princess,” he replied in a monotone voice.

Predatory eyes befell the light cerise colored alicorn. A pale blue light from her horn exercised control over a fork that speared crisp lettuce. She took a measured bite as if trying not to get a hair of her multicolored mane out of place. Purple eyes refused to acknowledge his stare for the moment.

‘Gold, rose, and violet streaks in mane and tail, yet no ghostly wind blowing through it. I suppose that comes with age in an alicorn.’ Thorne mused to himself as he tried to move his mind away from the previous questions.

He jabbed a small tomato and brought it to his lips. His eyes went to Shining Armor and their daughter. ‘No wings for the prince, however. I wonder if that says something about how males are treated. Though, the brother to Twilight would get bonus points I assume.’ He appraised the white unicorn stallion and his deep blue mane with lighter blue streaks. Even his eyes were a shade of blue. ‘Bulky and likely strong magic. Fit to be a prince. Your body language gives away your training.’

Finally his eyes went to Flurry Heart. The alicorn daughter of the two. A large set of wings and a horn graced her small pinkish body. She had a little lighter coat than her mother. Her mane also took after her mother in terms of streaks, but the palette was different and more controlled; light cerise mulled into grayish violet toward the ends of her curls. She had a playful arctic blue streak running through it. Opal eyes shone bright and stared up at her father as he held her.

“She’s precious, isn’t she?”

Thorne went looking to the princess, his staring having been acknowledged. “Mmm.” He responded. He put his eyes on his plate. He stared through it, focusing on the table cloth that covered the crystalline furniture piece. A rich satin stared back at him. He stabbed another piece of his salad, idly chewing it to fill the time.

“Is something wrong, Thorne?”

“You’ve been on edge about my presence and have several guards watching us eat. Nothing wrong with me.” He snarked. He brought his mechanical hand up and rested his cheek against the palm.

“Well,” Cadence seemed to puff up at the accusation, “I did have my family threatened earlier and there seemed to be some collusion.”

“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Not only was there an imposter among the guards, but the crystals in the throne dimmed.”

“And?”

“Those in the throne respond to volatile emotions and dark magic.” Cadence informed him. It got his attention as he raised his head up and looked at her. “In fact, a lot of our crystals respond to emotion. But those in the throne, after Sombra, dim when in the presence of dark magic.”

“I see. And this relates to me, how?” Thorne leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “It sounds like we’ve gone from empty small talk to accusing me of being in league with the assassin.”

There was an audible clop of a hoof against a skull on his right. Thorne peered to Silver and shrugged. He got a few choice words in a language he didn’t comprehend.

“And how are you not?” Cadence replied, trying to keep the tone civil.

Thorne brought a hand to his chin. “I know we’re trying not to raise voices and swear and be at each other’s throats right now, but it’s really hard when you throw that in my face, Cadence. For your daughter’s sake, I’m maintaining an air of cool. You should understand that. Do not press this.” He warned sternly. “I am here to kill a bear. Give me the information I require and I’ll be out of here.”

“You’re not here to kill a bear…?” She posed it like a question. “What are you talking about? We need you to help Tempest Shadow get an Ursa Major to retreat from the hunting grounds it’s taken over.”

“You want me to make it… retreat? I’m sorry, repeat that please.” Thorne sat up and leaned forward, his face in disbelief. “It sounds like you don’t want this absolute force of nature to be killed, you want it somehow escorted off property.”

“Yes.”

He squinted at her. “Are you actually simple?”

“Uncalled for!” Shining reprimanded but was swiftly silenced with a wing from his beloved.

Thorne put his face in his palms. “I read up on how massive these things are. And how violent they can actually be. And you want me, in a freezing cold wasteland, with only a handful of ponies, to escort this thing away from hunting grounds. I just…” He gawked at the appalling request. “Of all the arrogant, self-centered, pompous jobs I’ve ever heard…”

The human clenched his fists and started to shake, lowering his hands to the table in order to keep from slamming against it. “This! This would risk many lives. Not only of us, but of other ponies. This thing will come back. It is a bear for all intensive purposes. It may be magical, but it is a bear!” He was desperately trying not to raise his voice. “And you know what? Instead of looking after me with all these guards--the man who basically helped save you--you could have them patrolling the streets. You could have them go with Tempest to deal with this Ursa. You could have them do a myriad of other things, and yet, here they stand, watching us eat because you fear for your life!”

His left arm had begun to tremble. His voice was raised, but wasn’t enough to send the foal crying. It looked as though he was holding everything back, however. Every fiber of his being was shuddering like a wound coil.

Cadence’s tone never faltered. It was stern and insightful. “You want me to whisk my guards away to protect the streets? Protect them from what? What do you know?”

Thorne growled. “Anything! Petty thievery! Break-ins! Something that isn’t them standing here.”

“One of my guards attacked me. They were infiltrated, Thorne. Do you really think I would want them out on the streets when I can’t trust them?” Cadence offered, her eyes going to every single guard in the room. All of them immediately looked down in shame. “I love the Crystal Empire. I would rather have enemies close than terrorizing my ponies.”

Thorne’s face went neutral. He wanted to argue with that, but there was no getting around the logic behind it. “That’s a hit to morale…” he said, choosing to make a petty jab. He put his fingers to his temples and rubbed them. “I want to drink until I’m numb, I swear to the gods…” he uttered to himself.

He re-gathered his thoughts. “So offering smiles and small talk to the enemy in the room, then? Is that the thought process? Here, allow me to inform you what will happen after dinner: I am going to set that prisoner free after interrogating him. And no one here can stop me.”

There was a look of shock on everyone’s face. Cadence rose up, stamping a hoof on the table. “You will do no such thing!”

“Oh but I will. And it is within your best interest to allow it to happen.”

There was a pregnant pause followed by a hesitant and unsure “Why?” from the princess.

“Because. He said a name. And didn’t die. Follow me on this one. You’re a smart pony, right? Dark magic seems to be involved, yeah? He has help within the city. That must be a given. There must be cells of them. All of them involved in this magic. If he goes free because of me, I find a way in. I find them. And then… Things happen! Good things.”

“Vague.”

“Just like everything else I’ve encountered! Again, you’re smart. Figure it out. Or Silver can inform you. I, however, cannot.”

The room’s eyes went to the thestral who shrank back from the sudden attention. She coughed and choked on a piece of her salad before clearing her throat, “I’ll inform you of everything later, your Majesty.”

Thorne took a deep breath. ‘I keep gambling…’ He sipped at his provided water from the chalice it rested in. “So. That is cleared up. And you want this Ursa… moved. Any more details?”

Cadence finally sat back down, a heavy sigh escaping her muzzle. “A map to the little shack that Tempest and Glitter Drops inhabit will be provided. It isn’t a long trek. I take it you’ve got enchanted cloaks for the weather.” There was a nod from Thorne. “Good. Then should be set. They’ve got food and water at the outpost. We’ll take care of Dusk like he was our own.”

Thorne looked to Silver to see if that was acceptable. When she nodded, he nodded. “Then I think that covers everything. And as far as that crystal dimming, if it reacts to emotions, then maybe it picked up on something in the room.” He shrugged. He knew the truth as to why it might have reacted, but he wasn’t about to admit that the magic on his person was the culprit. “Let’s just try to enjoy the rest of the meal, shall we?” He offered, trying to broker a peace.

“Indeed.” Cadence hummed in acceptance.

“That was your plan?” Silver growled out, her accent coming in thick.

They had finished dinner and now Thorne was assembling his gear back in their room. His face still held a scowl of displeasure after the ordeal, but Silver was steadily wearing it down to an apathetic expression.

“You just… tell her what you were going to do? You accuse her of being ‘simple’?! And to top it all off, I need to go speak with her now!”

Thorne looked to Dusk who sat on the bed watching the two. His face was telling. The type of face that read ‘please don’t fight’. It sent a pang of guilt into Thorne’s being.

‘I’m being stubborn. This is my fault. I should have let it go. I shouldn’t have pinned this on Silver. It was petty. They had good reason to have that many guards. You’re the enemy at the gates and she knows. Of course she knows. And of course she has the same mentality of Celestia, she’s practically blood related. I hurt Silver and I hurt Dusk. I will continue to hurt them.’

Thorne let a sigh. “I’m sorry. I got annoyed at just how many guards she surrounded herself with and I shouldn’t have. It brought back a disgust I should let go of. She had every right and every reason to have that many around herself.”

“And instead you thought they should be protecting the ponies.”

Those golden human eyes fell on Silver. “Yes. But again, she was right; I don’t know what they should be protected from. She has every reason to believe I’m her enemy and even more so now.” He tightened his belt a notch and unsheathed his daggers, inspecting them. “And in that moment, I figured I would tell her the plan so maybe she’d not think of me as the enemy. In doing so, I made a problem for you.”

Silver sighed. “The most fool-hearty and stubborn stallion I’ve ever met…” she uttered just loud enough to be heard.

It made Thorne smile and give a singular ‘heh’ from his throat. He let it go and walked over to Dusk, kneeling before the colt. The little thestral was suddenly wrapped in a hug. “Don’t go looking at us like we’re fighting, alright? Just a mild reprimanding from your mother that I deserve. Please look your absolute cutest and say sweet things about me so she forgets, yeah?” Thorne pulled away and ruffled the colt’s mane, making the boy laugh and nod.

“That’s just unfair, Thorne.” Silver called from behind him. “You know I am weak against his cute face.”

Thorne pulled away and stood. “Mwah-ha-ha!” He gave the fakest evil laugh he could. “I know. For I am evil. And I use those weaknesses to my gain.” A cocky smirk filled his face and in a single step he closed the distance between Silver and himself. “Now then,” he continued past her, walking toward the door. His right hand went down and brushed along her cheek and neck as he strode by, “I am going to go release an idiot. Don’t wait up too late for me.”

With that, he was out of the room before she could huff and protest against the touch.

Night had settled like a blanket over the empire. The unnatural spring-time warmth hung in the air, adding a cozy factor to all the inhabitants. It served to make the guards sleepy and wish for their beds. Though they had recently just exchanged shifts, several were groggy and wanting to return to sleep.

Thorne shared their wants, a yawn escaping him as he skulked in the darkness. He had stuck to the shadows of the corridors, evading every light and horn-lit unicorn that prowled about. He had made a promise to do as little damage as possible and not to take any lives, but it was proving difficult. A part of him despised himself for thinking how easy it would be to snuff the flame of life from the guards and be done with it.

‘Cadence must have informed her guards what I was going to do. The question is, are they willing to go along with it or will they resist? And if they choose to go along, will they at least put up a show?’

The largest problem at present was the lack of knowledge of where the dungeon was. He kicked himself for not simply going the direct route through the princess but he had assumed the worst. At best, their relationship was rocky. She would no doubt be against this, though he figured she must have seen the merit. Then there was the danger it presented to her daughter, her husband, and herself. Shining would have been against it entirely.

He let a long and hot sigh into the mask that now covered the lower half of his face. He didn’t want to waste his time trying to skirt around patrols on a goose chase for something that might not have even been within the castle.He pressed himself against a wall, listening to clopping of hooves against the crystalline floor that filled the hall.

‘I’ll need to take a guard and interrogate them. Knock them out afterwards. But again, that will just keep me in poor standing with the Princess of Love.’ He groaned internally. ‘Come on, think. Think, think, think. Genius brain, let’s go. Can’t take a guard hostage. Can’t waste time sitting here. Can’t waste time searching.’ He closed his eyes and tried to breathe. ‘And of course, when I get there, he’s going to be guarded. How would I get him out? Fucking! Motherfucker!’

“Lost?” A gentle voice whispered in his ear.

Thorne grabbed his blades and whipped into a defensive stance, his eyes snapping open. His heart had leapt into his throat upon being discovered. A wild golden frenzy took hold of his ocular faculties in an attempt to analyze, understand, and regain control of the situation.

He had never heard the figure approach. Even in his distracted state, he should have heard their hooves. He should have also felt their presence for being so close. Yet here stood a unicorn--one as tall as Celestia--that was invading his personal space with a polite smile. She appeared translucent but was somehow making her entire body glow like a weak firefly.

“Follow me. I’ll take you the way you want to go.”

‘I’m sorry, the hell is this?’

The unicorn took a few steps past him, walking toward the end of the hallway he had been occupying. The guards at the end of the hallway had stopped and had their backs turned from the mysterious figure. They were conversing over something called a ‘flugelhorn’. Again, Thorne questioned what was happening.

His line of questioning got longer the moment the tall unicorn went through a closed door that led into a room.

‘Okay. Okay! Can we fucking not? Ghosts now? Okay. Yep. Sure. Fuck you world.’

Thorne had little time to mull over the apparitions words. He sprinted from his cover with silent and practiced steps. Like a sentient shadow, he made for the door. He found it locked. He went to pull his lock pick tools from the hidden sleeve in his vambrace, but heard the lock click by itself. He checked to see the guards still conversing at the end of the hall before shuffling inside and stuffing the tools away.

He was greeted to an empty room and the spirit just warmly eyeing him from across the room near a bookcase. Thorne finally got a good look at the unicorn. “You look like you could be Cadence’s mother…”

There was a contained chortle from the unicorn. She turned and lit her horn, pulling a book. It clicked and the bookshelf swung inward. “I appreciate that, Thorne. But I’m more likely a very distant relative.” She turned her head back swiftly, swinging those long curls at the end of her raspberry mane back over the other shoulder. Brilliant amber eyes looked to the man and then did the universal swivel of ‘come along’.

An audible grunt of protest came from Thorne’s throat. “So you know my name,” he stated as he stepped forward. The unicorn smiled and nodded, taking the lead down the tunnel.

“I’ve been aware of your presence since you arrived in Equestria.”

“Ah, a spectral stalker.” Thorne noticed a torch hanging from a wall holder as he went past, it only illuminated in the darkness by the glow of the apparition. He quickly snatched it and pulled a match from a pouch to light it up. Once the darkened hallway was lit, his eyes went scanning the figure once again. He had to lean to one side to better see her cutie mark. A strange crystal snowflake that looked as though it sat in a glass chalice or in some horseshoe. He couldn’t tell which. It rested on a ghostly pale vermillion coat. Just as strange as the mark was her style in ‘clothing’--or lack thereof. What amounted to blue string went around her chest and withers. He had seen an amber heart design on her chest. The same design went around her legs just above the hoof and below the knee. She even had a ringlet of the fabric on her head under the long and flowing hair; it connected below her horn with another amber heart that jingled silently as she led him down the tunnel.

There were no words after his accusation. They came to an off-shoot where the spectre paused. “When you return to this castle, come back to that room and come back to this tunnel. Then take this right.” The apparition motioned with her neck to the right where another tunnel connected. “You’ll find what you need there. But for now, this is where I leave you. Continue down this path until you come to the blocked exit. A switch will be noticeable and you’ll be in the dungeon.”

“So you know I’m going to return. Okay. And apparently I’ll be ‘finding what I need’ in this other room. Why should I trust any of this?” Thorne had an apprehensive, borderline disbelieving look on his face.

The unicorn turned. She stood tall and unflinching as the wayward human seemed doubtful to her claims. It reminded him of Cadence. “Do you have a choice?”

The words made his blood boil. He took a sharp breath and let the anger go with his exhale. “I suppose I do not. Without your aid, I’d still be bumbling about worrying about knocking out Cadence’s guards. Though this fool likely has guards watching him. And I still don’t know how to get him out.”

The spectral unicorn tittered with amusement. “I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.” With that, she began walking down the right-leading path.

Thorne opened his mouth to speak against it, but instead chose to snap his jaw shut with an audible click of teeth. ‘Yeah sure, just appear, help me, and then piss off. If I look up the definition of ‘deus ex machina’ going to find your pale ass plastered right next to it. Why?! Why help me?!’

Every fiber of his being wanted to chase after her as she twinkled out of existence down the darkened tunnel. A breeze went drafting through the corridor, sending his torch flickering. He grunted in annoyance and chose to continue on the path. Several questions were coming to a head, but he wasn’t going to be stopped from his task.

It took another few minutes of walking. He came to the blockage his ghastly assistant had mentioned and there was a stand-out switch. With a click of it, the door slid with a grinding sound. Thorne put the torch out as the door moved; knowing the sound would give him away and he’d need to use the shadows in order to hide. He drew his blades and prepared.

What greeted him instead were two crystal ponies in their crystal armor and spears in hand. And they stood at parade rest like they expected him.

“Don’t you dare fucking tell me you’re in on that fuckers plans.” Thorne spoke with a venomous tongue as he emerged from the darkness. The two noted the look in his eyes was that of anger and violence.

“No, sir. We’re under orders from the Princess--!”

“Just. Fucking. Fantastic. Okay. Good, this works out in my favor since she actually listened to me. Take me to him. And you then leave the room. I don’t care what you hear, if you come into my sight again, I’ll kill you.”

Gone was the practiced noble tone that he tried to treat the ponies to. Instead his voice rattled like death and was as cold as the grave.

The two saluted him out of panic and went trotting off. Thorne looked back to the wall. It began to slide back. He sighed in frustration. All of it had been building yet again and he wanted an outlet. And he was about to have it. The sound of an orchestra started to play in his head-- climatic music that pounded the noggin. It gave him a sense of purpose.

The two led him to a single small cell. It could have been considered a jail rather than a dungeon from the lack of usual equipment a dungeon would have, though Thorne wondered if unicorn magic counted as a torture device. His eyes drilled into the velvet green earth pony that the two guards had stopped at. There were other ponies--not many, a total of three that Thorne counted as he passed by--but none drew his ire like the one before him.

“Open the door.” He instructed coldly as he drew a vial from a pouch. A cork popped loudly and a red liquid went drizzling over one dagger. It pooled on the metal as he stuck the empty vial back and gripped the other blade, making the thin mixture go trailing from one blade to the next in a steady line. They did as instructed. There was a quick, “Leave us,” from Thorne as he stepped into the cell. Thorne waited as the two guards went scurrying away as fast as they could.

The stallion sighed out. “No need to look so threatening any longer--!”

It was a blur of motion as the human had tossed one dagger to his left, leaving his right hand free. He lunged and grabbed the stallion by the windpipe, pinning him against the back wall. The two daggers in his left now threatened to slice into the exposed and soft underbelly.

“I should fucking lop your nuts off right now. Make you into a mare!”

“What?! I thought--!” The stallion was interrupted again as daggers lightly cut. A sudden burning scream erupted from his mouth as the poison set in.

“Fucking hurts, doesn’t it?! It won’t kill you, but it will burn like all hell! You know what I had to deal with just to get here this evening? With no blood on my hands? With no fucking army breathing down my neck?! You thought! You thought wrong, shit-stain! Every. Single. Gods. Damn. Thought. You’ve had. Is fucking. Wrong.”

Thorne was practically screaming in anger as the stallion kicked, trying to get free. The more he fought, the more the human cut into him.

“You managed to say the Master’s name without dying while attempting assassination. So you either don’t have the curse mark, or I’m vastly overestimating what the power of that thing is. Sheer fact that you failed and still live speaks utter volumes. So spill it!” Thorne demanded. “You don’t walk out of here until I get what I want!”

The stallion finally realized his weak thrashing wasn’t harming the monster that was dead set on ripping secrets from his flesh. “Torlak sent us to get her blood! We needed the blood of Cadence in order to taint the Crystal Heart! My curse mark doesn’t belong to him!”

Thorne growled. “Liar!”

“It’s t-the t-truth! I s-swear!” The male began to whimper, tears streaming down his face as Thorne pressed a dagger’s edge to his family jewels.

“Then who controls it?” He squinted.

“A b-black unicorn stallion! He c-called himself t-the Herald! He came to t-the Empire and-and promised a b-better world!” The stallion's voice started to regain composure as Thorne pulled the daggers away. “He got us to volunteer! He tricked us! He threatened our families!”

There was an audible ‘tch’ and a click of a tongue as the stallion was dropped. Thorne backed away and sheathed his blades. The wall, however, got the rest of his ire. He punched it hard with a scream of ‘fuck’ at the top of his lungs. His eyes went back to the prisoner. “Nothing else, then?”

The green earth pony scrambled from the floor and got to his haunches. “He had two mares with him. One called ‘Justice’ and the other ‘Faith’. Once we were cursed, they showed us how to speak to Torlak. And Torlak said you’d appear to help us if we did as we were told.”

Thorne let a sigh. “Lie back on that bed, legs up.” He reached into his pouch again and fished out a set of vials. He pulled a blue powder while shoving the other deadly mixtures back. The stallion was hesitant but after an angry glare from the human, did as commanded.

The cork popped and he went about spreading the powder onto the wounds he had made. “There. It’ll stop the pain and it’ll heal fine.” His voice had all the rage drained from it. Instead it was replaced with exhaustion. He corked the vial once it was empty and placed it back. “Torlak said I needed to help you all. So I assumed there was a cabal of you. And here I thought you were doing it willingly or that somehow he had tricked you all into it. Now I find out he has ponies doing that for him. And with terribly cliché names.”

He backed away and let the stallion sit back up. Thorne started to pace. “Still, that was the stupidest thing. You tried to assault the princess in broad daylight. Who exactly gave you that idea? And why did you think I’d help you?”

“It was all my idea. I thought maybe if I could do it all myself, no one else would need to suffer. You were mentioned in our last conversation with Master Torlak. And I thought you would just… assist.”

Thorne rubbed his chin. “Of course. Naïve, but makes sense I suppose.” His fingers went to his temples. “You know, I came in here with a whole speech in my head how I was going to hunt and kill your friends and family because killing you would count as betrayal. And I wouldn’t betray my master. But that kind of… petered out. Pissed all over the flame of rage in my heart.”

“Were you actually?!” “Oh absolutely I would,” Thorne replied without skipping a beat. “I live to serve and that’s quite literal right now so any means to get results must be taken. I’ve got a while before my time is up. How about yourself?”

“I… don’t know…”

“Not good, but maybe not bad.” Thorne shrugged. “I’ll get your name and everyone else's later. But for now, lie low. I’m getting you out of here. No more stupid stunts. We’ll… figure something out.”

The human opened the cell door. He looked back to the stallion. “And sorry.” He looked away, not wanting to see the stallions face as he apologized. “I shouldn’t have gotten worked up like I did. Now come on. Before anyone changes their minds.”

Silver put a hoof to her cheek as Thorne stepped out of the room to go about his business. She sighed and looked back, giving him a last glance as he disappeared around the corner. Dusk had lifted up off the bed and drifted to the doorway on wing power. She looked up and saw him staring down at her. “Something wrong?”

“He looked hurt and upset.” The colt hung his head as if it was his fault.

“He has had that look on him since we’ve arrived.” Silver responded, using her own wings to float up into the air. “Don’t think it’s something you did. I think he was just telling you to not look at us like parents fighting, which I agree with.”

“You looked like you were fighting that way, though…”

“What?” She gave a disbelieving look. “Why would you think that?” She got a shrug at her question. It made her shake her head and sigh. “I don’t like what you’re insinuating, Dusk. I know he means a lot to you since the incident, but he’s just…” she trailed off. She mentally cursed herself for using his words. “He’s just soldiering on. He’s doing his best and it’s our job to help him. Okay? And sometimes, in order to help someone, you need to stand against them. Push against them and offer insight from the other perspective. Got it?”

The colt nodded. “Yes, momma.”

“Good. Now come on. Think you can fly long enough to go meet with the Princess? We need to speak with her.”

There was an enthusiastic nod with a bright smile. It warmed Silver’s heart after the exchange she had with Thorne. She took the lead, heading out of the room and down the hallway corridor. She went slow and made sure to go at the colt’s pace. It wasn’t a long flight for the two, even if it went against the guard’s modus operandi of palace safety. Most seemed used to the aerial transgressors after having dealt with two alicorns in the palace--one a particularly rowdy one who loved using her wings.

The two thestrals came into a sitting room that was just down a hall that led from the dining room. They were shown in by the guards and were met with the scene of a mother and father in the midst of playing with their daughter. Flurry Heart was eagerly shifting blocks about as Shining and Cadence helped her construct a miniature fortress fit for a princess under a war-time siege.

“We’re not interrupting, are we?” Silver asked with a hesitant step into the room.

“Not at all, come in,” Cadence offered a smile--one that seemed more genuine than anything she had offered Thorne. In the back of Silver’s mind, that somewhat ticked her off. She had her own problems against the man, but what of the princess?

Silver shook that off. ‘He’s still an assassin. He still has that mark.’ She told herself mentally. A hoof motioned Dusk go meet and properly see Flurry Heart finally. The colt nodded and took to gliding over. He was welcomed with a happy noise from the alicorn. The thestral mare approached the prince and princess and bowed. “Thank you for seeing me at such a late hour.”

“Night’s still young. And given what Thorne said earlier, plenty of time for him to get up to no good.” Shining Armor chuckled softly while it only made Cadence sigh and shake her head.

“That is why I am here, yes. To be as blunt as my ward: you should help him in letting that prisoner go.” Silver stood still and resolute, not letting her conviction waiver.

“Why?” Cadence asked flatly. “He’s an assassin. And if Auntie Luna is to be believed, so is Thorne.”

“Thorne is.” Silver responded just as flatly. “But he has been cursed with a dark mark--one I’ve seen. He has no choice in the matter.”

Cadence flung her wings open in amazement at the bold statement. It was quickly replaced with healthy skepticism. “How do you know he had no choice?”

“With all due respect, Princess… He’s… a bipedal hairless monkey. He even admitted to being pulled here through a portal! He knows nothing of what our world is and seems distrustful of even the most basic of magic.”

“If he is marked, why didn’t you kill him? Isn’t it your job?” Cadence raised an eyebrow. Below them, Dusk winced and looked up. His dull gold eyes were only seen by Shining who sympathized with the expression. Cadence was too caught up staring at the mare.

Silver took a step back. “It… it is, Princess.” She looked down. “But he isn’t just some mindless killing machine. He isn’t doing it willingly.” Her eyes came up, protesting against Cadence’s words. “He even came forward with his plan, of his own free will, because he understands there is something more at hoof here. He spoke to you candidly, showing he isn’t afraid of the consequences of speaking truth to power. He knows the position he is in, he knows what awaits him if he fails, but he still chooses to act in the interest of ponies.”

“And what happens when the interest of ponies and his do not line up?” Shining was the one who brought the question to bear. “What if he is merely trying to play the waiting game? And what if he is merely acting to further pony goals because it’s easier for him?”

“I…” Silver started but stopped, the words ringing deeply. “He is capable of this. But I do not think he will. While I think there is a depth there that is untapped and unseen, both in combat and in mental prowess, I still trust him. If my trust is betrayed, then… I will do what I must to make sure harmony of the land is maintained.”

“It’s basically you vouching for him, though. And personal feelings do not hold much weight. No matter if you back them up with duty-bound promises.”

Silver looked offended at ‘personal feelings’ but let her face go back to neutral. “Of course. I’m merely asking you to give it a chance.”

The two looked at each other. Cadence called one of their guards over and whispered something to them. They saluted and took flight, heading out of the room in a bolt. “There. I’ll see to it that he has his wish. I’m putting faith in you both. It is unfair of me to judge him so harshly. It’s just that Celestia’s and Luna’s letters were… harrowing. But, we often try to build on friendship, and friendships start with trust.”

Silver bowed deeply. “Thank you for this kindness, Princess Cadence. And thank you for watching over my colt as we go about dealing with the Ursa Major.”

Shining in particular looked away at that. Cadence just nodded, “Of course. It’s the least we can do while you’re away on business. We owe it to you for everything that Blue Nebula did for us.”

A tremor ran through Silver as the name was mentioned. Shining gave a visible twitch. Dusk hung his head which upset Flurry. Cadence’s eyes went down and noticed the reaction in the colt and her daughter. She swiftly went back to ‘mother’ as she picked up her foal to calm her. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to--”

Silver held a hoof up. “It is fine, Princess. Dusk and I just miss him and even two years later, his presence is still missed. Dusk, please say sorry for upsetting their daughter.”

Dusk looked back to his mother who gave him a ‘go on’ hoof motion. He wanted to protest but stood and bowed. “Apologies to you all. I should better control my emotions.”

“It’s fine, really…” Cadence said, bouncing her daughter to help soothe her. She seemed almost awkward now that she was being offered an apology.

Shining Armor had picked up on the awkwardness, his own shifting down as he went into ‘damage control’. “It’s getting late. We should all get some rest, don’t you think?”

Silver smiled appreciatively at the gesture and nodded. “It is. We should get out of your mane. Come along, Dusk.” The mare gave a final bow and turned, making sure her son followed right beside her.

The doors were shut and they walked in silence down the hall back toward their room. Out of earshot from the guards, Dusk huffed. “Shouldn’t need to apologize…”

“I know.” Silver sighed. “But they’re royalty. Better to treat them with the respect they deserve than be rude.”

“They didn’t need to bring up dad…”

“Princess Cadence was just being polite. She didn’t know it would upset you.”

The colt kicked at the floor. “She’s the princess of love, she should know better.”

Silver actually gave a little chortle. “Mai Feli, she is the princess of love, not the princess of emotions in general.” That made the colt laugh and buck up. Silver leaned down and nuzzled him. “Good. It still hurts, but we’re stronger than the day ponies, ya? He joined the stars. We must cherish the memories we made while he was here.” A nod came from her son. Silver smiled in return. “Come on. Let us rest. I’m sure Thorne will be back soon.”

It was late in the night. Thorne regretted lingering for as long as he did. It would make the trek into the cold even worse. He assumed it was getting close to two in the morning, though he couldn’t tell the time. For all he knew he was wrong.

He crept back into the room, tugging at straps that held his armor. A part of him just wanted to sleep in it rather than take it all off only to put it back on again, but he wanted some semblance of comfort. His companions had told him they could share the bed and he intended to enjoy it for a little bit of time before they were sent off into a frigid landscape.

He had shut the door as quietly as he could and was tip-toeing to avoid making any noise. Though his leathers and armor made gentle sounds as he carefully pulled piece by piece off until he could slip it all off. He was just about finished when he heard something shuffle from the bed.

“Thorne…?” The supple accented voice of Silver was soft and groggy, but soon enough cat-like golden eyes were opened. They gleamed in the low-light and made the man freeze. Not with fear, but instead it froze him in an enthralled stare.

“Sorry to wake you, Silver.” The man replied in a whisper. He finished taking his ensemble off and tugged his shirt off. He wanted to remove the rest, but since the bed was shared, he figured he could suffer pants while he slept.

“Always apologizing. You were right, you say that a lot to me…” she whispered back. “I--” she yawned, “I was awake.”

“You don’t sound awake,” Thorne teased. Bare feet snuck around to the opposite side of the bed. Silver and Dusk had taken up the right side of the bed, Silver laying with her back to the left and Dusk pressed against her barrel as they cuddled.

Even in the low light, Thorne could see the touching scene. A soft pain went through his chest as he thought how it must have felt. To have a mother that cares as much as Silver did for her colt. That pain doubled as he realized how she was managing without a stallion.

He sat on the edge of the bed and ran his fingers over his face. ‘I never once asked about it. And Dusk must be missing a lot of schooling.’ He turned slightly, looking at the two. ‘Cherish her, Dusk. And cherish him, Nightshade.’

Those eyes had found him again. Silver craned her neck to look back at Thorne, feeling his eyes on her back. He finally noticed she was without the vest she usually wore. His mind tried to distract itself from her looking at him with a question of how she was laying with wings, but her voice cut into his thoughts.

“A lot on your mind?”

“Yeah.” He replied softly.

“Want to talk about it?” She offered.

“I don’t want to wake Dusk.”

“Then come here. Whisper quieter. I will hear you.”

Thorne blinked at that. “He’d hear it just as well, Nightshade. We’ll talk in the morning.”

She laid her head back down. “Very well.” She replied, her tone sounding disappointed.

‘Why did that feel like an invitation to spoon? No. Do not. Shut up brain. That was just her wanting to lend an ear.’

He looked out the window into the night. He sighed and brought a palm to his forehead, quietly beating and berating himself.

‘No. You know what. Fuck it. Fuck this day. Fuck everything that happened.’

Thorne inched himself more toward their side and climbed under the sheets. Silver felt an arm go around her and Dusk and suddenly a fleshy chest against her back. She opened her eyes and looked back.

“Like I said, we’ll talk in the morning.” He said in a barely audible and mildly nervous-of-breaking-boundaries breath.

Silver gave a soft nod and a smile. The two laid their heads down for the final time and found rest.

19. Station 01

Silver was the first to wake up as the sunlight crawled over the bed. She still felt Thorne’s chest against her back. His left had managed to worm under the pillow, giving her and Dusk a more fluffed up headrest. His right had shifted from holding the colt to his palm resting deep in the tuft of chest fur the mare had. His fingers were practically buried in the thick coat. When she shifted ever-so-slightly, she was greeted with those fingers slipping an inch lower down her barrel. It was an odd sensation, but not bad. She could see the appeal of fingers and their dexterous nature versus hooves.

Her mind lingering on appendages was cut in upon as the dock of her tail brushed against something stiff and hidden below the feel of fabric. Given where his torso was in line with hers, and having seen the human bare out of the shower, she concluded it was his stallion-hood. With that knowledge in mind, she cleared her throat and looked back at the still slumbering man.

“Thorne?” She got no response. “Thorne!” She said it a bit louder and with a hint of impatience.

At that, eyes shot open. She was greeted to a one-eyed leer as the other was hidden in a pillow and parts of her mane. He grumbled in response. The mare merely flicked the dock of her tail again, her eyes squinting at him. The next response was him nearly jolting out of the bed in a panic. “Holy shi--mmm! Sorry! Sorry!”

His panic startled Dusk awake who leapt out of his mother's embrace. “Huh?! Wha?” The colt’s voice was laden with a water-starved throat. Thorne, now done with his jolt of energy, marched himself into the bathroom while Dusk sat there confused as to why there was such an alarming wake up.

Silver was chuckling at the response. Thorne came back in after the flush of the toilet. “Sorry, really. Probably not used to that. Likely a male human only evolutionary trait.” Dusk was next in line to head to the bathroom since he was already at the edge of the bed after having a rude awakening. Thorne took his spot and sat down, sighing. “What an awkward morning. Haven’t had one of those in years…” He gave an earnest snicker.

The mare finally climbed up and shifted to the edge of the bed, stepping down from it. “Evolutionary trait, hmm? Sure it was just that?” Her comment earned her a flat look from the human to which made the amusement on her face grow. “I’m sorry I startled you so.” Silver gave a rather hollow sounding apology.

“No, you’re having fun with it. It’s fine. I deserved that. You get a kick out of it and that’s fine.” He shook his head and smirked. “And yes, an evolutionary trait. So I don’t wake up needing to take a bathroom break every few hours. If I ever made it to old age, gods, I’d dread not having that as a safeguard.”

The mare looked at him confused; gone was her face of amusement. It was only broken by Dusk who reentered. He flapped his wings and took off, going to land back on the bed. She shrugged off Thorne’s comment and instead excused herself for her turn in the bathroom.

Thorne looked to Dusk. “Morning, Dusk. Sleep well?”

“I was sleeping great until the rude awakening. What happened?” The colt looked up to the human.

Thorne’s face went a hint of red and he looked away. “Your mother just startled me is all. I was sleeping a little too close and a sudden nudge and there I went.”

It was Dusk’s turn to let a chuckle and wear an amused face. “Scaredy cat! You must have been having a bad dream to be woken up like that all from a nudge!”

There was a laugh and then a nod. “Maybe not so much a bad dream, but maybe just an unrestful sleep.”

“Should really get the Nightmother to help!” The colt beamed. “Bad dreams and fitful sleeping is all her domain!”

“Do you know how she came to rule over dreams and sleep?”

“Uhm. I think she learned how to do it while on the moon.”

“On… the moon. So wait. That banishment story… was literal?”

“It was,” Silver’s voice cut in as she exited the bathroom, “and our Nightmother served out a thousand years of punishment for her fall to madness.”

“Amazed she didn’t go even more insane. Years of isolation on a desolate rock? I guess that explains how she got the ability to walk in dreams. Even if you were a tyrant, you’d need something to stave off the call of the void.”

“Call of the void?” Dusk asked. “What’s that?”

“Oh…” Thorne cleared his throat and looked away. “It’s uhm…” He looked to Silver who raised an eyebrow. “It’s a… I guess you could say a kind of ‘spell’? Something that over takes you when you’re… high in the air! Or standing at a cliff edge. This thought that ‘what if I just leapt’ or ‘what if I closed my wings’.”

The colt shivered. “That sounds terrifying! How does one prevent it?!”

Thorne smiled and reached over, rubbing the colt’s head. “Be happy and content with everything you have and want within reason. That’s how you prevent it.” There was a content noise from the youngling as his head got pet.

Silver trotted over, a soft smile on her face as she watched the two. “So Thorne?” “Yeah?” “What happened last night?”

He pulled his hand from the boy’s head and grunted. “Right. There are three ponies helping the Master. ‘The Herald’, ‘Faith’, and ‘Justice’. They apparently tricked a group into helping them and branded them much like myself. I was able to escort our failed assassin out of the cell and into the night and the guards all turned the other way. No idea why. Maybe something to do with that ghost I saw.” He shrugged.

“Ghost?” Silver asked. Dusk merely repeated it but in a more terrified manner only to be told ‘there are no such things’ from his mother.

“Strangest thing. Spoke rather cryptically. Said she’d been watching me since I stepped foot in Equestria. Something tells me she isn’t the only one. Kind of looked like she may have been Cadence’s mom, but apparently was ‘a distant relative’.” Again he shrugged. “She showed me a secret passage and told me to find it again when we returned. Said ‘I’d find what I was looking for’. Whatever that meant.”

There were a few words that sounded like a prayer that slipped from Silver’s mouth. She shook her head. “Why is all this strange stuff happening around you? Why are you so strange?!”

“Don’t blame me! And probably because this world doesn’t like me! I shouldn’t be here! It’s probably trying to oust me!” Throne replied with a defensive tone.

Silver rolled her eyes. “It isn’t trying to oust you, Thorne.”

“Could have fooled me. But yeah. That’s what happened. But if that wasn’t responsible for the ease of what happened…?” He raised an eyebrow at Silver who merely smirked at him.

“Princess Cadence was willing to hear me out and accept your idea. She was willing to set aside what you may be after I kind of… Blurted it out.” Her realization made the smirk fade and instead turned into a sheepish look. “She’ll likely tell the other princesses of your predicament…”

Thorne sighed and put his face in his palms. He rubbed at his face in several up and down motions until finally dragging his digits down his cheeks and off his jaw line. “It’s honestly fine. Better that way. Long as it stays between all of us. This skitters a line I’m growing more and more cautious of since we’re playing with my life…” He looked away, not wanting to admit the morbid truth of how he felt when it came to the value of his life.

“But one more thing,” Silver interrupted his dark thoughts, “I was going to ask why you chose to essentially cuddle Dusk and I.”

Thorne sat there a moment, his face in disbelief that she was asking. It swiftly went to him feeling rather stupid and embarrassed. “I… You know what, that’s on me. Apologies if I crossed a line.” He lowered his head.

“I just wondered what brought it on. You seemed like you needed the comfort, though. It makes me happy that you’re at least showing a little vulnerability.” Silver had moved closer to him, putting a hoof on his knee.

He looked away and huffed. “Yeah. Vulnerable. Not something I should be, but it certainly felt better than stewing in all that I learned. I lost myself to my anger and took it out on that stallion then felt horrible afterwards when I learned he was just as much a prisoner as me.”

Golden eyes connected as he looked back to her. “We should get ready to leave. Quicker we get this done with, the quicker I can go see that home.”

The morning sun beamed down on the Empire and the cold north. Thorne had gathered their supplies and was carrying a pack over his shoulder while Silver had the map. They had set out just after dawn and after traversing an early morning walk from the castle, had come to the back path that led out into the snow-filled mountains that separated the continent at the top. On the other side resided very few ponies, wild creatures, and yaks.

“That’s one small step for man… One giant leap for--shit that’s cold!” Thorne had stepped beyond the barrier in a mocking fashion, the idle spring warmth of the Empire-proper being replaced by the bitter, enduring cold. It only served to garner a snicker from his thestral companion. He rolled his eyes and bundled himself up, making sure the enchanted cloak was properly around his form. He tugged his hood and mask up for even more warmth.

Meanwhile, Silver stepped over the boundary and was entirely unimpeded. In fact, it looked as though she loved the cold. Thorne opened his mouth to comment but was interrupted as Silver pranced forward. “This way, Thorne!” She exclaimed happily.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming!” He called out and began to march, following in her hoofsteps as she led the way.

Silence fell over the two as they walked. Every now and again wind would buffet the two and it made Thorne yearn for a pair of goggles like he had made for Silver. It made him wonder if any pony had made any leeway in the pair he had freely given for them to replicate. Again he took notice that Silver was practically thriving, regardless of how chilling the wind cut to the bone. He envied the resilience of her species.

‘If ever there was such a thing as reincarnation, let me come back as a handsome batpony stallion in this world.’ He almost prayed as if anything would hear him. A chill went down his spine as he swore he heard the wind respond ‘Granted.’ He sighed, knowing that was just wishful thinking and him hearing things. ‘Don’t go making mountains of molehills, Thorne. World may be full of magic and seemingly out to get you, but you know that isn’t the case. Don’t be silly.’ He told himself. ‘Though I guess I’ve been making mountains lately…’

He continued to trudge along, thankful for Silver leading him and for her legs in clearing the snow away. It wasn’t thick and the path wasn’t icy, but it was still a hindrance to walk through without proper snow boots. She, however, plowed through it like a champion thoroughbred. It amazed him to no end that she seemed completely fit for this type of terrain and weather.

“Don’t fall behind!” She called out to the man. “I won’t, I’m right behind you!” He responded back. In truth, the distance had gotten rather wide between them. But he had slowed due the uphill slant their path now took into the forestry that went along the base of the mountains.

Thorne admired the scenery as they passed. The forest wasn’t thick or dense by any stretch of the imagination, but it was vast. Clearings had been made from several logging ventures and it was obvious that ponies had stuck roots further toward the mountains. Even along their trail, they noticed offshoots that led to homesteads. Smoke from hearths rose above the thin tree line and was whisked away by the ever-present winds.

The sounds of animals went quiet as he went by. Silver’s ears twitched and turned as she listened to bird songs that were present one moment then went deathly silent as the shadow of Thorne passed. They resumed as he walked by and away, yet she noticed that gap all the same. Thorne noticed it too, but had been experiencing that since his arrival.

“Won’t be long now. We’re nearly to the cabin,” Silver remarked. “Should be atop this ridge.”

“Good,” Thorne idly remarked. “Noticing a lot more rocky terrain now. Amazed there isn’t any ice built up.”

“There’d be more if the snow melted faster, but it usually stays pretty thick.”

“I can tell. Though I thought it’d be much thicker than this. It’s only about ankle high for me. Glad you took the lead.” Thorne stated as Silver looked back to notice him following directly in her trail that she left. He gave her a grin which she only rolled her eyes at and continued on. “So, any information on these two?”

“Tempest Shadow you already know some things about. Unicorn but with a broken horn, dark orchid coat, a kind of dark rose-ish mane. Always in her Storm King armor. Blue-green eyes. Scar over her right eye. And she’s apparently got a temper.” Silver spoke as if she was reading from a document. “As far as Glitter Drops, well, she works here in the Crystal Empire as part of arctic patrol. She’s a unicorn and very good with animals, apparently. And good at illusions. They’ve already had to deal with an Ursa Minor that wandered down the mountains--”

Thorne sped up and interrupted her. “Wait, wait. They’ve already dealt with a baby, basically. And now we’re here to help with a Major. And… how did they deal with that little one?”

Silver cleared her throat. “Glitter used illusion magic to lure it away. As I was saying… Glitter Drops has a blue-green coat and a pale sky-blue mane. Pale-purple-ish eye color… cheerful disposition but takes her job seriously.”

There was a sigh from the man behind her. “That’s great and all, but really… They’ve already had this issue and now it got substantially bigger. I worry about you ponies, I really do. Non-violence and tricks only work for so long. I get the harmony thing, but really.”

The mare looked back at him and raised an eyebrow. She extended her wings and let the sun glint off the blades and into his face. “I suppose I wear these for nothing then?”

Thorne put a hand in front of his face to shield himself from the glint. “Ow. And no, I guess there are some who are willing to work in the dark to maintain peace and prosperity. But it’s just an animal.”

“Exactly why it shouldn’t be slain so callously.”

“But it can hurt ponies.”

“So can every other pony when they’re hurt, cornered, or scared.”

Thorne let a sigh. “I can’t argue that. We’ll do it Cadence’s way then. Or we’ll try. I just have a bad feeling that I can’t shake...”

“You’ve had that since Canterlot, haven’t you?” She smirked at him.

“I will grab you by the ears and twist.” He said sourly. “But yes.”

Silver put her ears down at the painful thought. Thorne chuckled ominously at the response.

Silence fell over them once again as they neared the ridge. Once they were over it, Silver checked the map one final time. “There!” She raised a hoof and pointed to a lone cabin with smoke pouring from the chimney. A sign read ‘Arctic Patrol Station 01’ hung from the roof over the porch the wooden structure had.

“Huh. How many stations do they have up here?” Thorne questioned as he stood atop the ridge and gazed out at the clearing. Several trails went in different directions from the circular clearing that was surrounded by rocky landscape and a tree line. In the middle sat the two story wooden cabin. Of the trails, four looked freshly used as pony hoofprints and animal tracks went along those trails. There was also a pony-drawn cart that was coated in snow. It looked as though it was used for carrying wounded or sick down to the Empire proper.

“There are three. Each has one pony stationed at them. This one has two simply because Tempest had helped Glitter before,” Silver informed him.

Thorne rubbed his masked chin. “Interesting. Only one, though? I suppose that makes sense. We had fire-watch towers in Montana and those were usually occupied by one, but they had radios…”

“They stay in radio contact.”

“Ponies have radios?!” Thorne shouted in stunned surprise.

“Yes? Why is it so surprising?”

“I just never see anyone listening to a radio. I had seen a nightclub and it had a DJ playing, so I know you all have advanced sound systems, but I have yet to see someone with a radio. Wait, why wasn’t the patrol ship using a radio?! They were using friggin’ magic!”

“You have your answer. Magic is easier. Radio is rather limited and short range.”

There was an audible smack as he facepalmed. “Right. Magic. Of course. Magic is easier. Hey world, you want to give me some magic, maybe? I already gave my left arm, that’s enough right? It’s like a unicorn horn!” He waved his prosthetic around. It made Silver giggle and him grumble. “You know what, actually, I already said I’d like a pair of wings. Oo! Can I be an alicorn?!”

“You’d make a wonderful princess,” Silver teased.

“Princess of violence, maybe.” He huffed. “Come on. Let’s go introduce ourselves and see what’s on the agenda.”

There was a nod from the mare who fluttered her wings and easily flew over to the cabin. Thorne picked up the pace, walking down the minor slope that led into the ridge’s basin and the cabin. He had to hike his legs up a bit more to keep from stumbling over--and to make sure his feet found good footing with each step. He was thankful when he reached the porch, treating it like he was adrift at sea and this was an island he had landed upon. Silver had made it there before him and was simply watching the entire time.

At the porch, the sound of hooves could be heard inside and they were coming to the door. “Someone out there?” A voice that Thorne could only internalize as ‘bright’ sounded off. Without pause, Thorne knocked at the door. “We’re on assignment from Princess Cadence and Prince Shining Armor. We’re here to assist with the Ursa Major. Thorne and Silver, reporting in.” Thorne replied with a practiced tone from years of service.

“Oh! One second!” The meager sound of a lock being undone clicked from behind the door. Said door swung open, revealing Glitter Drops wrapped in a blue scarf. Everything else was as Silver had described. She had a warm smile that only paled to the warmth of the cabin. Warmth that was now pouring out into the cold air. “Come in, come in! Get yourselves out of the cold.”

Thorne bowed slightly and motioned for Silver to go first. She obliged and he followed after her. Glitter locked the door behind them. “Fizzy is in the kitchen and will be out in a sec, you two find the place alright?”

“Fizzy?” Thorne asked but his question was drowned out by Silver responding. “We had a map so it was relatively easy. I could have flown about if we got lost.”

At that, the unicorn looked over the thestral. “Ah! That’s right. Batpony! The cold and winds here must be refreshing for you. Your companion, however… Hardly any fur and such a lanky body! Good thing he has that cloak! Plus all the other apparel! Though that armor looks like it must be freezing.”

Thorne shook his head dismissively. “Cloak keeps it all rather pleasant.” He tugged his hood and mask down. “Anywhere to put our items?”

“Upstairs! Guest room is there. Though going to have to share a room.” Glitter looked between the two with a bit of an awkward glance, but Thorne shrugged and replied with ‘it’s fine’ before heading up the stairs to put down the sack he carried.

“Those daggers at his hips… and was that a crossbow on his back? He does know this is meant to be a bloodless mission, yes?” Glitter asked with a worried look to the batpony. Silver simply nodded. “Okay, good.” The unicorn sighed with relief.

The rattle of dishes finished in the kitchen and the metal hoofsteps on wood echoed into the den as Tempest Shadow emerged. “Hey Dropsy--” the broken-horned mare paused as her eyes went to Silver. Then the creaks of the stairs being descended filled the minor pause.

“Our items are up there if you need ‘em, Silver.” Thorne idly stated, not caring if he interrupted something. He felt the eyes of the room go to him and his golden orbs went to the dark orchid colored mare that now was in the den with the other two. He stopped midway through his journey to the bottom. A thought from left field went soaring into his mind: ‘Only now does it dawn on me that this society has a very skewed gender ratio. Or at least it feels like it. Is that sexist? I feel like that’s sexist. Unfortunately, I don’t know if it’s sexist toward males or females. But chalk another point up on the irony board. I wanted women. I got women. Just not the way I thought.’

“You must be the two we got a letter about. Don’t look like much.” Tempest scoffed.

“That coming from the commander of the Storm King’s armies pains me so. And here I thought I’d get a glowing compliment.” Thorne’s sarcasm was enough to choke any ursa. “Nice to meet you too, Fizzy.” He took a shot in the dark, but the reaction of offense told him he was right on target.

“Oh you do not get to use that name, monkey!” Several sparks began to shoot from Tempest’s horn as her anger flared.

There was a ‘pff’ from the man and he went down the rest of the stairs. “Calm down, O unicorn of the Storm and the uniform. Rather like the design, though. If I were a pony, definitely would choose something like that. Looks light and effective.” He gave a thumbs up and a bored look. The arcing of lightning ceased and instead was replaced with a sigh.

“If you must know, I wear this uniform for protection and because it just feels right. But never call me ‘Fizzy’. Only reserved for the closest of friends. It’s Tempest, got it?”

“As you wish. I am Thorne. That is Silver. And as you know, we’re here to assist. So what are we doing first?”

Tempest looked to Glitter. “I was about to tell Glitter Drops that the dishes were done and that we should go on patrol. But since you two are here, I suppose we need to discuss what’s been happening and what to expect. Which is her area of expertise.” She raised a hoof, motioning Glitter Drops to go ahead.

Glitter stepped forward and cleared her throat. “Now that introductions are out of the way, then we can get on with this. Though we’ll need a few days I think. The plan is to hunt and watch this Ursa Major and make sure we can get it back into the mountains without it hurting anypony.”

“Has it hurt anypony yet?” Thorne asked. “Not yet, no. But it does seem to be getting pushy in looking for food.” Glitter responded. Thorne pulled up a nearby chair and sat down, putting his hands in his lap in thought.

“We need to isolate it. I can try to use an illusion to lure it away, but the problem is… I don’t know if that will work.”

“What about a food trail?” Silver suggested.

Tempest was the one who responded, “It might work, but the problem is it came out of the mountains looking for food. Once it eats everything we lay out, what is stopping it from turning around?” Glitter nodded in agreement.

“I’d suggest scaring it off, but does anything actually scare them?” Thorne looked to Glitter.

“Not really, no,” she shook her head. “Loud noises, bright lights, but it’s only momentary. Nothing that would permanently run it off.”

Thorne scratched his head. “We are at an impasse… Agreed, then. We should observe it. Maybe we could figure something out.”

The mares shook their heads. “In the meantime, Silver and I should get to know the area better. You two mind if we spend some time out getting familiar with the terrain and with the trails? We’ll be back by sunset.”

“Not at all!” “That’s actually a sound plan.” The two mares responded. Thorne looked to Silver who nodded in agreement. He stood up and stretched. “I’ll grab some rations. Try to see what you can see from the air, Silver.”

“Try not to stumble in the snow, Thorne.” Silver remarked as she went to the door. The human scoffed. “Yeah, yeah. I’m jealous of the wings, you know this. Jealous of a lot of things around here.” He rolled his eyes and disappeared back up the stairs.

Thorne sat outside with just his clothing on and the enchanted heat cloak wrapped around him firmly. Night had fallen over the cabin but he was outside to smoke and drink and ruminate on the following days. He had brought a bottle of whiskey in his pack and now sat with it out on the steps of the porch.

The rest of the day after they had left the cabin had consisted of boring walking. He hadn’t had the time to talk with Silver, both of them instead choosing to focus on work. They had spent all day outside and gotten back by sunset after learning the terrain. He probably should have been inside after spending so much time outside. But something about the chill and the warmth of the cloak made Thorne comfortable. He had spent so many years in deserts, he had actually forgotten what arctic weather might have been like. He had the training in it, but it had been so long since that training was put to any use.

The wind was light in the moonlit night. It ruffled his cloak and hair. It was cool enough to be refreshing, though as the night droned on, he knew it would become harsher. Just outside of the cabin he could see the tree line lit by the glow of the moon and it brought a peace of mind. Between it and his face danced a flurry of snow that had steadily been falling since night overtook day. He unscrewed the cap on his bottle and swallowed a bitter mouthful. It warmed his innards once it sat in his belly. From a pocket he pulled a cigar and a match. He shielded the flame from the wind with his mechanical hand and finally got the embers to catch on his oral fixation. The match was tossed and he let the flavor fill his mouth before he exhaled a plume of smoke into the darkness.

From behind him, he heard the door open. He turned his head to see who it was and was greeted to a bare silver coat in the moonlight. She stepped out onto the porch and shut the door swiftly to keep the heat of the fireplace from getting swept away in the chill of night. “Thorne…?”

He looked away and pulled the cigar from his lips. “What’s up, Silver?” He responded.

Silver made a soft ‘mmm’ and shook her head. “Nothing. Just wanted to make sure you’re alright. Mind if I sat with you?”

He took another swig of his drink and patted the wood next to him. “If you’re up for it, sure. It’s cold out, though. Are you going to be okay?”

She gave a half chuckle and sat down next to him. “I’ll be fine. My homeland is just as cold and we’re adapted for it. You’re the one who should be worrying about being too cold.”

He offered the bottle to her. “Glad to hear. And yeah, got to admit, your coat is thick.” Silver took the bottle and took a swig only to recoil and cough. It made Thorne laugh and he offered to take it back. She denied him, instead choosing to take another larger swig to prove herself. It got an inquisitive eyebrow and a smirk. “Nicely done.” He praised her. When she passed it back, it dawned on him. “Silver? How do you hold things with a hoof? I’ve seen ponies use their mouths, hold things in the crook of their forelegs, but… You just held that with a hoof.”

She gave a curious tilt of her head. An image went back in her mind of the first time he had shown her his prosthetic arm. She held out her left hoof. “Here. Look.”

Thorne looked to the hoof and then to her to see if it was okay as he raised his right hand up to inspect the appendage. She nodded and he turned slightly, putting his hand on her leg. He brought it up a little and poured over it in the low light. He could see plainly, but shadows made it difficult to gauge depths.

He ran his thumb over the inside of the hoof. Thorne was shocked to find that the interior wasn’t beveled inward and it wasn’t all keratin like the horses of his world. The outer part had a shell of the substance to provide rigidity and strength, but the interior was almost a stylized and plump heart shape. It was a pale pink in color. And it seemed to have muscle. But there was something more. An unseen force that slightly gripped at his thumb as it trailed over the soft-but-resilient tissue. “Magic,” he uttered in a tone of disbelief. “It’s weak but it’s there. So… do all ponies have some type of magic in them that allow this?”

Silver nodded. “It’s how pegasi control the weather. How earth ponies just know what to do to make the land fertile. Magic is a part of our life, Thorne. Of course it’s also a part of us. Not just unicorns that have it.”

There was a consuming silence as he released her hoof and went back to his drinking and smoking. With a strong exhale that bellowed out dark smoke, he spoke, “I had every reason to be worried about the magic in this world. I had asked Celestia and Luna what would happen if the magic faded. Something I asked my Master was ‘what happens when the magical forces of this world go out of control’ and he just waved my question off. And the two absolute rulers of it couldn’t answer my question either. They simply had faith that all of you would adapt.”

He took another swallow before passing the bottle back to her. Silver accepted and took a swig herself. “That is all we can do, Thorne. Besides, what threat is there to magic?”

“I am a threat, Silver. Clearly the world thinks I am. The magic keeps reacting to me in strange ways.”

“You know that isn’t true. It’s simply showing you… something.” She passed the bottle back. Thorne set it between the two of them. He had given a grumble in response and chose to focus on his cigar.

The lull in conversation made his mind go wandering to other questions. Questions he didn’t want to bring up, but knew he would need too. “So. You have a homeland. You all seem to worship Luna like a god. You have fangs and cat-like eyes.” There was a hesitant ‘Yes?’ from the mare. Thorne continued. “Are you all vampires? I’ve seen you walking out in the daylight without a care in the world, but you look physically drained in it.”

She blinked at him. Then she chuckled. “Ah! This question.” She let her Canterlot accent drop and the heavy vampire-insinuating tone came in. “No. We aren’t vampires. And I look drained in sunlight because I am. It’s hot and tiring and we are nocturnal. The Nightmother is our goddess, yes. And the fangs are to help us eat the more thick-skinned fruit that grew in our mountains. We enjoy drinking the juices.”

“I see. So no blood then? Not going to wake up with holes in my neck?” He teased, obviously joking.

“No, no blood. Though blood holds importance to us for sacred reasons. Am I ruining a fantasy?” She leaned over a little giving him a questioning-but-playful look.

He snatched the bottle up and took a deep drink only to recoil with a sigh. “Not drunk enough for those insinuations but if you bite me, you’re getting bit right back. Not the only one with fangs.” He grinned, showing off the canines. The thestral laughed at that. She made a motion to be handed the bottle and he obliged. He let her take a swig and swallow before he assaulted her with another question.

“So how old are you and Dusk? You read my journal, so you should know how old I am. Though, I don’t know years or months or ‘moons’ here in Equestria.”

The mare set the bottle between them again. “I’m twenty seven. Dusk is seven.”

“Had him at twenty, huh?”

“He was our little surprise…”

Thorne opened his mouth to question something like contraceptives but instead there was a click of his teeth as his jaw shut, choosing not to bring it up. Instead, he chose the harder router. He took a swig of the alcohol and another puff. “So what happened to his father?”

Silver twitched, one that Thorne saw. She let a sigh and took the bottle, choosing to drink heavily enough to force a coughing fit. When she set it down and wiped her muzzle, she looked forlornly to the tree line in the dark. “Two years ago he was a part of a changeling hunt. Before the changelings turned to their new king, they were ruled by an evil, spiteful, love-sucking monster!” She spat the words.

There was a pause as she let her anger simmer. “I still harbor resentment toward them all, but in these two years I’ve tried to let it go and move on for Dusk’s sake.” Her voice trembled. “My dear Blue Nebula. It’s the reason I was called ‘Silver’. He gave me the nickname. He called me his ‘silver dancer’...” There was a soft sniffle. “Dusk looks so much like him it hurts.” She took another shaky breath to calm herself before continuing with the story of what happened.

“It was here in the Crystal Empire. The Prince and Princess had just gotten news that they were expecting a foal and the ponies were giving an outpouring of love. Shining had requested extra guard. The Nightmother suggested a dancer go as well. Blue was the one who went. He eventually found the changelings but he was outnumbered.”

Thorne heard another sniffle. A foreleg came up and brushed under Silver’s eyes. “The other guards couldn’t get to his aid in time. He had defeated three of the four and the last one eventually got hunted down, but… They couldn’t save him from the wounds he suffered.” Her eyes looked up to the brilliant moon that illuminated the landscape and the hundreds of other stars that surrounded the luminous orb. Tears were streaming down her face. “His last words were ‘I’m sorry’.”

An emotional dagger went ripping through his chest like it was shot from a railgun. He dropped his cigar into the snow at the revelation and was now listening to the mare at his side try to stem the tide of emotions. He could tell she was trying to bottle it all up again. She had likely blockaded it all away and now it threatened to burst free. Thorne had his own surge of emotion at the eerie last words.

Instead of dwelling on it, he acted. Much like him saving and comforting Dusk after the fall from the sky, he had acted on impulse. This was no different. He wouldn’t allow his mind time to analyze and overthink; it was a rare occasion in which he didn’t. His action was simple and fluid. He reached out from under his cloak swiftly and grabbed Silver. She was then pulled into him as he turned even more to face her.

The mare flinched but submitted to the pull in the end. She found her face buried against Thorne’s chest and a gentle hand stroking at her mane and back. Silver resisted the first few waves that washed against her mind but ultimately failed to hold it back. She let a muffled sound against the man and broke down, crying harshly. The cloak went wrapping around her just enough to hide her away from the world as she bawled. Thorne could only steady his breathing and continue to stroke her mane as she let it out.

An age passed as she let herself cry until she couldn’t. Another passed as silence fell over the two. There was a sniffle and a sigh of ‘thanks’. Thorne took it as a sign he should stop and released her, letting her pull away slightly. She never left what was essentially his lap, however. Golden eyes met. “Can you… please keep doing that?” It was a weak request--one he barely heard over the gust of wind that whipped past both of them. But he heard it all the same. He smiled and nodded, putting his hand back and stroking along her neck. Her head found itself lying on his shoulder, muzzle buried into the crook of his neck.

“You’ve both been managing without him. I… don’t know what it must feel like. But I was worried for you both--you being what appeared to be a single mother and Dusk for constantly having to be under your eye. He’s missed schooling, hasn’t he?” Thorne eased his tone so almost a whisper, speaking more in her ear. There was a nod. “I see…” He sighed. “I wonder if there is a way to help him become a stronger flier. A way to educate him in what he’s missed quickly and efficiently…”

“It’s not your problem, Thorne.”

“You two are supposed to keep watch on me. It somewhat feels like my problem. Plus, it’s a problem. And I like solving problems. Let me take a little responsibility here for once in my life.” Thorne insisted. There was a soft chortle at his words which made him smirk, glad he got a laugh. He reached for the bottle after a moment and took a massive gulp of liquid courage.

“I’ve always soldiered on in life. Never had purpose. Never felt like I belonged. There were several times where I thought of just falling on a sword. Several times where I wish I just caught a stray shot from rifle fire and blinked out of existence… A quick and painless death.”

Silver went silent as she listened, her head tilting up to look at the man who now focused intently on the moon and stars.

“It was never in the cards,” he continued, “and it just kept getting darker all around me. It was easier to take a life than to live one. Fearless of death, yet afraid of living life.” He chuckled. “I always wanted to just vanish because… Dying is easier than living with what I’ve done. Maybe death will absolve me, somehow. Because I know I won’t be forgiven while I live.”

“What you’ve done can be forgiven.”

There was a heavy stall and then a deep inhale. “Can it?” He looked down to the mare that now rested in his arms. “Can you look me in the eyes without knowing what I’ve done and tell me that you forgive me? That I deserve some sort of redemption?”

“You deserve redemption.” She responded without skipping a beat. “You deserve a second chance. What you did was in your world and now you are here for a purpose.” She spoke louder and clearer, coming from her bout of sorrow. Her words had made his hands stop petting her and instead just clutch onto her figure. His body had tensed up and started to shiver. “And redemption and forgiveness are waiting for you. You just need to do something to earn it. You need to forgive yourself, first.”

She shifted slightly in his grasp and reached for the bottle. She took a large sip before offering it to him. The last gulp sloshed around in the bottom and he sighed. “Have we really been sitting here that long and polished off a bottle…?” He changed the subject and took the brown container from her hoof, tossing back the last swallow.

Another sigh escaped the man as he set the bottle aside in the snow next to the now soaked and ruined cigar. “The morning is going to suck…” he mused aloud. “Sorry I get a bit bleak when I’m drinking. But thank you for drinking with me.” There was a gentle hum of acknowledgement. “Feels nice just to sit.” Another hum followed his words.

“Feels nice to be held like this,” Silver added. It made a twinge of red go across Thorne’s face as he realized how it must have looked. But no one was there to question nor judge. The other two occupants of the cabin were likely asleep. “Thorne?” Her questioning way she said his name pulled his attention. “Hmm?” He responded. “You’ve never been free, have you? You’ve never felt like you had a life.”

The words hit like a brick to the back of the skull. Again she felt him tighten his grip on her a little and then relax. “Yeah. You hit the nail on the head. It’s why I asked to take responsibility for Dusk and you. At least gives me something to focus on.”

She shook her head. “You should focus on yourself…”

“Just keep soldiering on,” he remarked.

“You can’t keep using that as an excuse,” she replied. “You need to live a life, Thorne.”

“I can’t at the moment. I just need to follow orders until I figure something out.”

“You deserve a life. You deserve some happiness. But if helping Dusk and me will give you some, then I suppose we should let you.”

Thorne gave a soft chortle. “Sounds like I’m imposing on you. And for that I’m sorry.”

There was a snort and then a soft laugh. “Always apologizing. Be a better stallion and do what you said earlier. Take responsibility so you don’t have to apologize so much!” She got a reply of ‘yes dear’ in a sarcastic tone that only served to get him a playful shove and a giggle from her. “Sometimes you remind me of him…”

“Oh? In a handsome sort of way--oof!” He got a slight jab.

“You’re… interesting. But I meant as far as stubbornness and resolve. Though he wasn’t as bleak as you. And oftentimes the sarcasm and smarminess exceed his. You’re not afraid to tell it like it is, even when speaking to your betters.”

Thorne rubbed his chin after listening to her. “I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing that I remind you so much of him.”

“Why would it be a bad thing…?” She questioned as she sat up slightly.

“Kind of defines us going forward, doesn’t it? Just kind of makes it sound like I might be a replacement.”

She stared at him a moment. “You aren’t a replacement,” the words were quiet. “Don’t go thinking that you could ever replace him.” She spoke that a bit harsher.

Thorne looked away. “Of course. He sounds like a hero and a good stallion. I am not those things.”

Silver looked hurt at his words. “I… I didn’t mean it like that. You are your own pony, not a replacement, is what I was saying.”

There was a sigh from the man and he brought a cold mechanical hand to his face only to be brought from his thoughts by the cold. “Ah fuck!” He exclaimed as he drew the hand away. “Fuck it’s freezing out here…”

There was a blink and then a laugh from Silver. “Idiot!”

Thorne looked at her and then chuckled. “Yeah. I am. And yeah. I know you didn’t mean it like that, just… took it that way I guess. Come on. We should get inside and warm up. It’s late.”

Silver got off of his lap with a nod in agreement, though she stumbled immediately. He was lucky to catch her and help her up, though his own coordination and reflexes were hindered. There was a swear in her language as his machine arm touched her. “That thing is so cold! How are you tolerating it?!”

Thorne needed to brace himself against the cabin and shake his head a few times to get his senses straight as the change in height sent his head spinning. “Don’t really feel it. I can sense it being cool, but can’t judge how cold it really is until I touch another part of me.”

Both of them guided each other to the door and got inside as quietly as they could. It was a mess of hooves and footsteps as they made their way to the second floor guest room. Each needed to take it slow as the alcohol wormed itself more and more into their system. Once they were finally up the stairs and behind closed doors, Thorne immediately went to wrap the enchanted cloak around his arm to warm it back up as he sat on the edge of the bed.

Silver climbed up on the bed and laid down, her eyes still looking at the man. He turned slightly to look back at her. “You look like you have a burning question,” he said.

“I do. How would it be good?”

“How would what be good?” He asked, his mind trying to recall what she was talking about. He didn’t need to wait as she answered him. “With how you remind me of my love.” “Wasn’t he your husband?” “We were never married.” “Oh.” “You’re dodging the question.” “I am.” “I believe you said it ‘defines us going forward’, didn’t you?” Thorne awkwardly looked away. “I was strictly talking about a professional relationship, Silver.”

There was a smirk from the mare and she lifted up slightly, scooting over to the human that sat on the edge. “You were thinking it is good because of what it might mean, weren’t you?” She whispered.

Thorne tried to ignore it. “You’re drunk.” “So are you.” “True…” “Were you actually thinking such things?” She asked in a coy tone. Thorne snorted. “I might be now, but no! I did mean it in a professional sense!”

There was a long ‘mhmm’ and the mare pulled away. Thorne let a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He pawned the cloak off on a nearby chair after standing. He ran his mechanical hand over his face and creased his lips in thought. He stood there a moment, just eyeballing the mare as she got under the covers of the bed. “Oh this is just unfair.”

“It is and I am unashamed. Playing fair merely means you have ample opportunity to lose and I am not a loser.” She remarked back with a hint of sass and Canterlot stuck-up-ed-ness.

“You are just a treat…” He chuckled. He moved back over to the singular bed and the mare scooted over to allow him to climb in. She pat the side he left for him with a knowing grin. Thorne sat down and laid back. He took a bit of the covers for himself and stared up at the ceiling.

“I was thinking about our friendship,” he admitted. “I can’t say that I’ve thought of you or any pony in that regard--at least what I assume what you were getting at.” There was a soft ‘mhm’ from beside him. “That and I don’t want to… ruin a budding friendship.”

“Sounds like you earnestly want to be friends,” Silver said quietly. “Honestly I thought you’d keep us at arm’s length.”

“That was the plan, but… I get nowhere doing that. But I don’t want to hurt you and Dusk. If things happen that are beyond my control…”

“Shh. Sleep. We’ll figure things out. We promised, didn’t we?” Thorne nodded at that. “Good night, Thorne.”

“Good night, Silver.”

20. Major Problems

The night gave way to dawn quicker than the sleeping pair wanted. Thorne would be the first to stir and wake as dim morning light illuminated the room. Silver wasn’t far behind him, but she didn’t let her state of awareness be known to the man. Instead she remained still and comfortable in the sheets, listening for Thorne who was mulling about the room, tidying himself up from the previous night. Eventually she’d hear his boots on the wood as he got fully dressed in his armor and cloak.

It took her by surprise when he stopped at the door to exit. She could feel his eyes on her form. Then the sound of him turning and approaching her.

The quiet words of, “A promise to figure this all out…” escaped the man. Next she found the sheets being tugged a little higher on her frame, covering her completely. “Keep me in line and make sure I don’t break it, yeah?”

‘I’ll try,’ she thought to herself.

Silver could feel the gentle smile on the human face that looked over her supposed-sleeping form. Next she heard shifting sounds of him walking away, followed by the door opening and clicking closed with care. She gave it a minute, listening as his footfalls went down the short hall and onto the stairs making them creak loudly in the morning air.

She was thankful that Equestrian liquor wasn’t as strong as what she was used to drinking. It was a strange sensation since she hadn’t touched the stuff in what she assumed had been years. Golden eyes with black slits opened wide and peered around the room now that she was finally alone. She rolled onto her back and stretched her hooves to the ceiling before rolling back onto her legs and doing the same for her wings. It threw the covers that were so delicately placed over her off to the side.

With a single flap, she was off the mattress and onto the floor on her hooves. ‘It’s been so odd sharing a bed with him. Just glad he seems to take it in stride as something more to put up with then taking any meaning from it.' She eased herself over to her pack and began to drag out her clothes. Her mind wandered to their previous night. ‘Hopefully it stays that way... Ugh. Nightmother, please help me.’ She groaned as a few choice thoughts resurfaced. ‘I probably sounded like I was in heat to the poor stallion! I didn’t mean to make it that dirty. It was teasing!’

Silver sat back on her haunches and tugged her vest around her, having to shimmy it over her wings and put her forelegs through the proper holes. It took a moment of shifting her wings in order to get them to pop out and get comfortable. ‘He knows I was teasing, right? This is Thorne we’re talking about. He has made insinuations in the past… Oh but last night was more serious… I was just trying to lighten the mood!’

The echoing sound of ‘keep me in line’ went stampeding through her mind. A tinge of blush came to her cheeks. ‘He said that as a friend. He wants a friend to keep him on the right path. Nothing more! He even said so.’

Silver sighed out and stood, moving back toward the dresser to fetch the goggles he had made for her and her son. She took them in hoof and admired them, ‘I certainly didn’t mean to pressure him into thinking about anything beyond friendship.’ She pulled them on and adjusted them around her ears and eyes. ‘If he takes anything else from it, that’s on him!’

Next she went to the small table Thorne had their weapons setting upon. He had taken his and put them on his person while her wing-blades sat untouched. She could have sworn it looked as though they were polished. The mare sat before them and put her hooves together in prayer, closing her eyes. ‘Dear Nightmother, hear this dancer and grant her requests: Grant me moonlight to see. Grant me a long and dark night. Grant me enduring stamina against the tumultuous winds. Grant me strength of steel and body. And most importantly, grant me serenity and patience to see Your will done. By Your Grace.’

She was going through the motions she was taught, but it granted a small peace of mind. Once her prayer was over, she stood and took the weapons, fitting them over each wing. She let out a sigh as the weight of the weapons brought with it the weight of responsibility. It had a grounding effect both spiritually and mentally--one she appreciated.

‘Why didn’t you kill him?’ the voice of Cadence came creeping into her mind as she saw her reflection in the right blade as it slipped on. It made her ears fall and her eyes darted away from her sorrowful reflection. ‘It’s your job, isn’t it?’ the voice prodded.

It served to make the mare stamp her hoof against the wood with an echoing thud in the silent morning. “No questioning your decisions now, Nightshade,” she told herself. “You were given open-ended orders to do as you see fit.” Her ears perked up and she nodded resolutely. “And I will do as I see fit! And for now, that means learning more about him and finding out what is going on with all this wild magic.” She nodded again with confidence.

She stood in the middle of the room as the silence overtook her. It dawned on her that the stomp she had done was likely heard from below, making her face go red. ‘Shoot! They probably heard that… Guess I should get downstairs.’ She let out a soft sigh of disappointment after ruining her quiet and thought-filled morning. She trotted to the door but stopped shy of opening it. Instead she stepped backwards and went back into her prayer stance.

‘Dear Nightmother-- … Luna? If you can hear this, it’s Nightshade Wind. I need to speak to you. About several things. And probably several more before we get a chance to talk. I feel somewhat lost and confused. Also somewhat excited and eager. Mostly just overwhelmed and worried. So please, if you hear this, know that I could use some advice. … Uhm. By Your Grace.’

With that and another nod, she went out the door.

“I am never drinking again…” Thorne uttered as he stood in the kitchen and over the counter. He had gotten up at dawn along with Tempest and now had started preparing breakfast for the resident mares.

“How many times have you said that to yourself?” Tempest asked with a flat expression.

“I lost count,” Thorne said as he poured batter into a skillet for pancakes.

“Why were you drinking anyway?”

“I needed to medicate myself. I am on duty. I’m not going to break down.”

“So you choose to medicate with a drink while on duty?”

Thorne turned slightly, giving her the middle finger and the look of ‘don’t start’. He noticed the raised eyebrow at the gesture and sighed. “Right. Hooves. Gesture doesn’t translate. And we were technically calling it a night, therefore, I had every right to get drunk. If I had any COs, they couldn’t complain about my antics.”

“Technically, I think Glitter Drops and I am your commanding officers,” Tempest smirked. “But you’re right, you were done. But now you don’t get a chance to complain about your own stupidity. You know how this works.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Thorne responded with an annoyed tone. He grabbed a spatula and went about flipping the flapjacks.

“What did you mean, though? ‘You won’t break down’?” Tempest raised an eyebrow at that, her tone saturated with curiosity.

Thorne paused in his work and mentally swore. “Right. That. It’s so I won’t go having a mental breakdown. It’s a way to process everything. I’m in a new world with a lot on my mind and I’ve never been one to sit still and process everything. I just keep moving. I keep soldiering on. I do what I’m told, I do as I please, and I just keep going until I can’t anymore. Don’t think about it and don’t get bogged down. Or try. It’s becoming more difficult these days...”

Tempest looked away at that, as if the words brought up a memory she would rather not have. Thorne missed it as his focus was on breakfast. The silence remained for a moment before Tempest inhaled and went in with another question.

“So I have to ask, as a stallion of the military of your world… Did you conquer any nations? Capture any princesses? Am I sharing a kitchen with greatness?”

Thorne turned again and stared at the mare. “Just full of questions aren’t you… And I don’t think Cadence would appreciate you thinking so highly of yourself. And no. I didn’t conquer anything. I merely killed people. As far as ‘princesses’... We don’t really have royals in our world. I mean, we do, but… Nothing like it is here.” He shrugged. “Did do a fair bit of trafficking, though.”

“Trafficking… As in ponynapping and selling them off?” “Mhm.” “Wow… How have you at least not gotten a stern talking too from the princesses?”

Thorne poured another pancake once the one he was working on went into a plate. “Because they don’t know that. And what they don’t know won’t hurt them.”

“Fair,” Tempest shrugged. “I’ll be sure to keep it to myself.”

“Appreciate it.”

“Why’d you do it, though?”

Thorne rolled his eyes. “Same reason it happens here, I’m sure. I was being paid and didn’t care who I hurt. I didn’t know these people. Some of them likely found better lives. Some were looking for a way out of their circumstances. Some were just unlucky. Some probably did end up in horrible conditions with poor treatment but again, I didn’t care.”

His statement was punctuated with the coffee pot buzzing that it was ready. Tempest got up and made herself a mug of coffee. When she turned back to the table, she hesitated and looked back at the human. “Think you could do it again?”

“If you want to talk business, you can wait until after breakfast.” He said sternly. It made Tempest recoil slightly. He chuckled darkly at her reaction. “I’m kidding… Mostly.” When her reaction didn’t change, he sighed. “Listen, I don’t know. If it were for a good cause or to save a life, maybe. But if somepony just wanted some slave or something and was willing to pay in a lot of bits, then no. I’d probably just kill the one offering and take their bits off their hooves.”

“The fact that you say this without an ounce of remorse is terrifying and inspiring.”

“Now that is the praise I was hoping for!” He beamed. His reaction got an earnest laugh from the mare as she sat down with her coffee. “Pancakes will be done in a bit.”

“Usually Glitter Drops is awake by now, but I think she was enjoying the fact that you two are here to help. Relieves her of some stress.” Tempest sipped at her coffee, her eyes going to the kitchen doorway.

“Glad to take some weight off your mare-friend’s shoulders.” Thorne went to flip a pancake into a plate but nearly dropped it as a hoof smacked into the table, distracting him with the sudden noise.

“She is not my marefriend. She is just a friend.” Tempest sternly said.

“Uh… Yeah?” Thorne’s tone was riddled with confusion and mild relief; he was able to save the pancake. “She’s a mare who is your friend. That’s what I said--Oh! Oh. I see what I did. Whoops. Contextual language. Like ‘buck’. I get it. Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

A sudden memory went surging into his mind. “Wait… I heard Silver say ‘fuck’.”

“Is there a need for curse words this early?” Tempest asked, her tone easing back from irritation.

Thorne squinted. “I remember being told the word was ‘buck’. Do ponies not have different swears?”

Tempest leaned on the table and put her chin in a hoof. “That’s a more censored version.”

“I see.” ‘How the fuck does a sailor know the censored version and not the actual version? He sounded like he hadn’t heard ‘fuck’ before…’

“Hey Tempest? Do stallions in this society not get treated the same as mares?” Thorne turned with a plate of three pancakes in hand. He set it on the table before Tempest before strolling back to start more.

“No, they get treated the same. What brought that question up?”

Thorne shrugged. “Eh. Just when I arrived, I met a sailor who used ‘buck’ and didn’t seem to know ‘fuck’.”

“Oh I’m sure he knew the word,” Tempest responded. “But a lot of ponies refuse to say this--especially unicorns.”

Thorne’s face contorted in confusion. “Why would it matter? Why unicorns? And if they know those words, why use a censored version?” He turned, getting mildly distracted from his skillet.

“Because they are curse words.” Tempest said only to be met with an ‘And?’ in response. She rolled her eyes. “You really don’t know anything, do you?” When the response was a shake of the head and the man turning around with the phrase ‘enlighten me’, Tempest continued as he went about making sure his pancakes didn’t burn.

“Curse words. Words of curse. Certain words that are said to hold magical power and were used in curses. Of course, most curses are actually fake. And the words may have held power, but no one really knows how to make them have power. Understand?”

“Not really, but go on.”

Tempest rubbed her face with a hoof. “Magic is cast in several ways. Some of the ancient ponies were able to infuse words with power so that when they spoke such harsh language, it would actually cast a spell. Ponies believed it to be curses. Thus, curse words.”

“And what about that you said about curses being fake?”

“A lot of curses are. Or rather, even the idea and concept of a curse is magical ‘hocus-pocus’. It’s smoke and mirrors. The truth is, the only real curses were made with dark and horrible magic.”

“I see…” Thorne replied, shuffling another pancake onto a plate. “I think I might take magic lessons with Twilight. It’s all confusing. Magic, dark magic, curses, history of magic. It’s fascinating, but confusing.”

“Knowing that bookworm, she’d sit you down for a lecture that would take a month.” Tempest said with a sip of her coffee. Thorne looked at her with a smirk, thinking she was joking. The look on her face told him she was not. “Speaking of, I have a book she gave me that you might benefit from.”

“Oh? A book on magic?”

“A kind of magic.”

“If you say the ‘magic of friendship’...” He shot her a glance and got the pinnacle-of-smug grin in return. “Of course,” he responded with a groan. “Fine. I’ll get it from you later.”

There was a loud hoof-stomp from overhead, causing the two to look up. “Silver is awake it seems…” Thorne said. “She’ll probably be down shortly.”

“That probably woke up Glitter Drops. She generally reacts to loud noises like that.”

“Hope she isn’t upset.”

“Nah. It takes a good amount to upset her.”

Thorne nodded. ‘Sounds like you two are great friends. Just not ‘marefriends’ it seems.’ He inwardly chuckled at the wordplay. He continued to mill about in the kitchen, making several plates of pancakes and even did them a favor by pouring coffee for the two that would be joining the table. It took several minutes, but they were finally joined by the other two mares and breakfast could begin.

The pancakes soothed the aches brought on by the hangover. The table was otherworldly silent as breakfast came and went; it was something Thorne found unnatural as ponies seemed to be jubilant at all times of day. Yet despite his soured morning, the others seemed keen on being quiet.

Thorne’s glance went to Silver who seemed fine despite having drunk that bottle with him. He held a slight jealous contempt for the mare, but wondered if it was something with her physiology. He took a bite of buttery pancakes, chewed, swallowed, paused, and decided he should ask. It was better than the table being quiet.

“So, Silver. I’m suffering from a hangover, yet you seem fine. That or you’re grinning and bearing it.” He sipped his cup of coffee. “What’s the secret?”

Silver was mid chew as he asked. She took the moment to swallow and gather her thoughts. “While it was strong and a good drink, it certainly wasn’t Bloodwine that I am accustomed to.”

There was a glance around the table from the other two mares at the mention of ‘bloodwine’. Thorne raised his eyebrow. “And here I thought you weren’t a vampire,” he teased with a sly tone.

Silver rolled her eyes. “It is called that merely because it comes from a very hardy fruit grown in my homeland called ‘heartfruit’. And yes, it looks like a heart.”

Thorne immediately thought of a human heart, though reminded himself that ‘hearts’ in this land would likely look like horse-hearts. But another part of himself knew better and merely went with the stylized version. “I see. So you make wine from this fruit and call it ‘Bloodwine’. Intriguing.”

Silver merely nodded and took another bite.

“You then understand where notions of vampirism come from, yeah?” Thorne added. “But that is neat, I suppose. Any chance we could visit your home? I’d like to try this wine and fruit.”

From that line, Silver went into a coughing fit as she choked on the meal. It took several attempts to clear her airways and a deep swig of coffee before she was okay. Concerned glances from all three at the table made her clear her throat, dissuading their worries. She inhaled deeply and shook her head with a resolute, “No, not at all.”

Thorne leaned back and crossed his arms, expecting more of an explanation. When one didn’t come, he made a hand motion to the batpony, insisting she divulge more. When she grunted, he knew she had gotten the message.

“My homeland isn’t welcoming to outsiders for one. Two, I left my home for reasons and those reasons keep me from really going back. Three, Bloodwine can be found in rare imports to the barracks back in Canterlot. And Heartfruit is… special.”

“Special? Special how?”

Silver sighed. “It loves cold weather and being outside of it makes it tend to wither and rot quickly. In order to even have it, it needs to be kept magically cold. Easily done, of course. The other is the significance it has in our culture. If one is given a Heartfruit from the tree, it usually is seen as giving that pony your heart.”

“Ah. A symbol of romance and love… But what of making the wine? Is that not romantically tied?”

Silver shook her head. “Blood, as I told you last night, has meaning. To share blood is a deep connection to be cherished.” She shifted uncomfortably as the other two mares seemed taken aback by all this knowledge being extruded so early in the morning. “And making wine from the heart-shaped fruit is a process that isn’t easy. It’s a bonding experience for those making it. By drinking it in a meal together with friends and family, it signifies bonds shared. It isn’t something you just pick up and drink like whiskey.”

“Your people focus on these bonds. But what of any religious significance? This… ‘Nightmother’ as you call Princess Luna. Does it hold anything there?”

“You are on an inquisition with these questions…” She remarked.

Thorne sighed deeply and held up a hand. “Fine, fine. I’ll stop for now. Just curious about you and your people. But thank you for sharing the secrets of your hangover-less morning. You apparently have a tolerance.”

Silver shrugged. “Something like that. We should finish breakfast and then get to work.”

Thorne stood outside, breathing deeply of the chilly northern air. He held his hands up to his mouth and exhaled a warm fog onto them before cracking his knuckles on his only remaining hand. He flexed and stretched the fingers on both, making sure the muscles and mechanisms were all still functioning.

“It is not to be taken lightly. Ursa Majors are terrors--even Minors are a problem, due their size. But a Major is easily twice or three times as big. So we need to stay hidden. I’ve got some scent covers that will make us smell like trees, grass, and dirt so we’ll be hidden from a sensitive nose. Though, a bit of warning that it is strong smelling and won’t come off easily.” Glitter was digging through her saddlebags as she went over the dangers of the Ursa they were tracking. They all were gathered just outside the station and were preparing to depart.

‘A tedious speech, but acceptable. Suppose we do look rather green to this. But we both are trained murderers, so hunting and tracking prey shouldn’t be too difficult…’ Thorne thought to himself, his arms crossing as he peered into the woods.

In his peripheral vision, he could see Silver retching at the scent that wafted into the air from the bottle that Glitter held up and had opened. She backed away with a flap of her wings and landed a short distance away. “Strong smelling is an understatement!” She decried with a hoof going up to stir the air in front of her face, the motion trying to bat the scent away.

Glitter and Tempest looked at one another and then sniffed the bottle. They didn’t see where the complaint came from. Thorne smirked and stepped a little closer, turning his attention to them. He bent down and sniffed. While it didn’t make him react, he certainly had a new understanding of why Silver reacted the way she did. He backed away and cleared his throat. “You two have gone rather nose blind to it, I think. Strong is an understatement. And I don’t have much sense of smell--at least not compared to ponies… I assume.” He shrugged.

Silver snorted and stepped forward the few hoofsteps she had jumped back. “I suppose I’ll get accustomed.” “That’s the spirit,” Glitter beamed in response. “I just ask that we see this thing and formulate a plan swiftly so we do not have to reapply that mixture.”

The comment made the other two mares nod in agreement; Thorne shrugged. “I’ve been struggling to comprehend how good I’ll be with this task if I cannot deal with it in my terms…” he idly said, his gaze returning to the forest and the trails. “But we should get a move on. Daylight is burning.” He held out his hand to Glitter. “Give me some of that.”

Glitter levitated the bottle up and poured a small handful into the human hand. He took what was given and patted his chest, then his arms, then around his thighs. It left small wet patches on the armor that lingered in the cold weather. Once he was given the nod of approval, he stepped toward the path they would be taking that led higher into the mountainous terrain. The forest thinned out in the distance and the visibility became high.

Tempest trotted up to his side after dabbing the scent around her neck and torso. It didn’t soak into the plates of metal she had wrapped around herself, causing it to linger in the chilly air and drip down to the earth below. “We’re going to move fast. Sure you can keep up?”

Thorne rolled his eyes. “Yeah. I can keep up.” He began to stretch his legs. “I’ll be sure not to pass you since you’re the ones who know where we’re going.” He looked back to Silver. “Are you going by air?”

Silver was in the middle of having the unappealing liquid being dabbed on her neck. She looked disgusted by it but snapped her grimace away the moment Thorne addressed her. “Mhm!” She made the noise of agreement without trying to open her mouth in order to respond. It made Thorne smirk in amusement.

“Then I think we’re set to go when you two are ready.” Thorne looked back to Tempest who in turn looked to Glitter. Glitter put some of the scent-covering mixture upon herself before putting the bottle away. She strutted confidently to be ahead of the human and her fellow patrol mare. With a nod, she began to go galloping off. Tempest smirked at the human and followed right behind Glitter. Thorne rolled his eyes and looked at Silver. She was in the air and gone before he realized it. With a grunt, Thorne bolted after the trio.

It took several minutes of dashing through the snow and forest in order for the human to relatively catch up to the two mares that were ground-bound. While the terrain wasn’t slick or difficult to navigate, they had clearly had a lot of practice in maneuvering through the packed snow. Nor did it seem that they were hindered by the cold--of course they had wintery clothing on, but nothing in sheer thickness or weight or magically enchanted like Thorne needed.

Every now and again as they went further up the mountain, Glitter and Tempest would pause in order to scout the area and look for signs of their quarry. Thorne was becoming acquainted with the equivalent of pony sign-language since he had to signal to Silver in order to tell her which way to go and where to search without using his voice. Though ponies used their ears and he had to use his hands. It only made it seem sillier when Silver told him to put his hands to his head and pretend they were pony ears--something he at first refused, but after her insisting on it, he gave in.

Thorne kept looking up to the sun, tracking it through the morning sky as they worked. It became routine as they would find signs of where the bear had been. He was amazed it had stayed away from ponies if it was searching for food. He wondered how intelligent and empathetic the creature may have been if it wasn’t hunting near homes.

Each stop was met with a few leads, a short break from sprinting after the mares, and a concerned glance around at the mild destructive nature the creature had. It was marking trees for something. Thorne imagined it must have been marking territory as several trees had been scraped and scarred with massive claws. Even rocks weren’t safe from the onslaught. Once he had seen just what one swipe had done to a rather solid looking stone, he felt a twinge of fear go running along his spine. The massive claw had put a sunken mark into stone that was at least two inches deep. How the creature had the strength to do it to stone was beyond him. He took solace that something that massive and strong hadn’t just gone waltzing into the Empire proper.

A part of him told him that they needed to find the Ursa fast or it might get the idea to do such a thing. It made him grip at his daggers more out of fear than confidence. A fear that ultimately he began to mock himself for.

Morning came and went and now it was getting to be around one in the afternoon. They had been working non-stop in tracking the Ursa and had finally found it. Oddly, it was pacing back and forth in a dried river basin. They had every advantage as they approached; they would be up on a hill and downwind of the Ursa. As they got to the edge of the hill, Thorne felt that fear rising again. He could hear the echo of his mocking not hours earlier and now it ate away at his soul.

‘There is no way. I know the book and illustrations said it was huge, but come on. It’s just a bear, right…?’ He told himself as he did his best to stay hidden while peeping over the snow-covered edge. He had gotten down onto his stomach as slowly and quietly as he could; he dare not to let his eyes leave the creature before them. His vision began to tunnel. His ears went deaf to everything but the sound of it breathing and his heartbeat. He could have sworn he heard Glitter and Tempest discussing something as Silver landed and moved in close to observe along with them, but he couldn’t be sure.

Before him was a celestial behemoth. It had to be over one-hundred feet from snout to tail--perhaps even larger. Even from their distance, it shook the earth with each step. The girth of the monster was just as massive. Far more massive than anything Thorne was prepared for. Even on their hill, he knew if the thing stood at full height, it would be able to see them and look down on them. They weren’t that high in the air and if it decided to glance around, if they weren’t hiding farther down the embankment, it might see them. It was purplish in hue and translucent. From its maw hung two saber tooth protrusions that were as big as several ponies combined. The fur on the creature was littered with twinkling stars, adding to the majesty. On its forehead was a larger star that shone like a diamond. It took a moment for it to really sink in that a creature named ‘Ursa Major’ would of course look like a constellation.

Thorne, however, had no time to appreciate the looks of the creature. Instead his mind was being scattered to the howling winds that surrounded him. Several thoughts tried to assess the situation of what the beast was doing and where it was going and if he was in danger; more pressing thoughts continually screamed ‘danger’ as if it was in big bold red font in his head. He felt his breathing beginning to go unsteady and rapid. He could feel his muscles twitching with both action and inaction. He shut out the world for a moment, his mouth moving without speaking. He was wordlessly trying to process what he was looking at and what the Princesses must have wanted from him or their subjects.

‘This is suicide. They sent us to die--they sent me to die. Figures. Why these three, though? Did they do something?! Surely they have no reason to die with me?! Maybe they’re expected to get away. Or maybe they have some scheme going. That must be it. There is no way. No way in absolute hell that isn’t it…’

The Ursa went to the far edge of the basin away from the group. It rose up on hind legs, causing all of them to shrink and duck as best they could on the embankment they perched upon in order to blend in with the natural scenery. With a mighty swing, the creature dug into a tree that gave up and fell over. Half of its roots were sticking out into the basin so the claw-filled blow only served to knock the tree fully from the ground. The Ursa went back to all fours with a snort.

‘This isn’t about moving it. Not anymore. It’s too large. There is no way! … I don’t think even my strongest poison would kill it quickly. I don’t think I could get a throat or head shot in order to do maximum damage… Fuck! Why am I suddenly feeling so fearful…?! Fucking get a hold of yourself!’

Thorne closed his eyes, finally snapping himself from his fear-induced daze. He took a deep breath and tried to focus. When his eyes opened again, he instead tried to take mental notes of what the thing was doing and why it was here. ‘It marked trees and stones. But for what? Did it lose its way?’

The Ursa continued to mark the tree it had shoved down--or rather, turn it into unusable splinters with claws that would have made a dragon jealous. It was marking it, but this tree seemed to be getting more ‘ire’ than just a mark. It paused every now and again to sniff at the air and then let a low mournful sound that didn’t carry far. That singular noise grabbed Thorne’s attention.

‘That… isn’t natural. That wouldn’t be a call to others--and no reports of others…’ His eyes went to Glitter Drops. She seemed astounded at what she heard. ‘So it is something to give us a clue. Good. That makes me feel somewhat better.’

He was still trembling. The human couldn’t shake off this sense of impending dread even as the beast turned and began to go back along the basin that led toward a more rocky part of the mountain. Thorne watched it leave and rolled onto his back, letting a hot breath go through his mask. Only then did he notice the gentle hoof on his shoulder and the batpony at his side.

“Are you alright, Thorne?” Silver asked, those goggles hiding her curious eyes.

The human jerked as if she startled him and gave a harsh response. “I’m fine.”

“You’re trembling.”

“I said I’m fine!” He said a little harsher, trying to keep his voice in check.

“You’re not fine, Thorne…”

“Drop it. I’m not scared; if anything I’m probably more upset. This is a suicide mission. One you all shouldn’t be a part of. How are we supposed to get that thing out of here without any bloodshed?” He looked at Silver with disbelief that this was their mission.

“You know it’s okay to be afraid…” Silver insisted.

Thorne held up his mechanical hand. “I’ve gone headfirst into death multiple times. This? This is nothing. It’s just an overstuffed bear. I’ve actively sought my death. Just another day of living the dream. Now, just drop it, please. We have a job to do.”

Silver sighed. “Fine. We’re not done, however. You’re getting an earful when we get back and are in the room.”

“Fine.”

“Are you two done with your lovers’ quarrel?” Tempest’s voice cut in.

Before Thorne could object, Silver cut in with a mild hiss. “It isn’t a ‘lovers’ quarrel’. We’re friends.”

‘Huh. Guess I know how Tempest felt this morning with the phrasing. Odd.’

Thorne waved his hand and sat up slightly, peering back toward the Ursa as it meandered down the dried riverbed. “That aside… I don’t understand it. It’s marking trees but that doesn’t seem like it is making territorial markers. And that sound earlier sounded sad. Do you know how intelligent these creatures are?”

“No idea. They seem smart, but not able to communicate like ponies or griffons or yaks. But a lot of creatures in Equestria seem highly intelligent. But many of the intelligent ones prefer to live in harmony with ponies. It’s the magical creatures that tend to be out in untamed wilds,” Tempest responded. She looked to Glitter who seemed to beam with pride that Tempest knew these things.

Thorne sighed. ‘Uh-huh and she isn’t your marefriend how, exactly?’ “So, Glitter, you looked like you knew what that sound was. Any thoughts on what it is doing and any context for that sound?”

The pale blue-green mare was pulled from her prideful stare at Tempest and gave a look over to where the Ursa was heading. “That sound was it giving a death knell of sorts. It must be dying.”

“So it knows it is dying… but why mark the trees?” Silver asked.

Thorne, however, heard ‘it is dying’ and lit up like a Christmas tree. A wash of relief went over the man. “So you’re saying this became a mission to humanely put it down, then?!” He asked with a bit too much excitement.

“What?!” Glitter gave a stunned response. “No! That is not what I said!”

Silver gave a concerned look to her companion. Thorne sank down slightly with a grunt at being denied for now. The thestral cleared her throat. “So about the trees?”

“Hmm?” Glitter looked back to Silver after giving a scolding glance to the human. “Oh, right. Well, from what I can tell, it is marking trees like it expects another to find it. But it must know they aren’t this far down the mountain... “

“Unless we missed something that massive.” Thorne remarked. It got him another scolding glance. “For now, we should catch up to it. Keep observing it. Make sure it doesn’t go hunting ponies. But I thought it was looking for food?”

“I think we all thought that. In my initial reports and findings, it seemed like it was scavenging. But if it is down the mountain to die…” Glitter said, confusion mounting in her tone.

Thorne interrupted, “It wouldn’t be searching for that much food if it was dying. So it isn’t alone. It must be marking off where it’s been or where it has visited in order to lead another. Think you could tell the sex of it from here?”

Glitter raised an eyebrow. “No, not really. But given the size, likely a female.”

“So it’s a mother with a child or a female with a mate.” There was a gasp. “Now hold on, don’t go gasping at that,” Thorne said, raising a hand as he stood up. “It’s just a guess. We need more evidence to support all these hypotheses. And the only way to do that is to catch up. So…”

Thorne waved his hands, ushering them all to move. They all nodded and took the hint, electing to follow the Ursa at a distance. After they took off, Thorne did as well with the hopeful thought that perhaps their job just became easier.

“I think if it’s a female with a mate, it would have the mate close, yeah?” Thorne asked as they trudged through a bit of brush a good distance from their charge. “Or is that not how it works?”

Glitter shook her head. “It wouldn’t need to scavenge food if it was a mate, so I think you might be right that it has a child… But if it has a child, then it must know that the child will suffer afterwards. Why not leave it with her mate?”

Thorne leaned against a thin tree, watching Ursa as it lumbered along the path. In the distance he could see a valley of rocks that the larger-than-life bear was heading towards. It had grown later in the evening by roughly two hours. They had watched it go along the basin, marking trees and rocks as if setting a pathway. It then diverted away from another set of trees that had already been marked and went the opposite way for one hour, marking trees as it went. It then turned around and started heading back to the self-made fork in the non-existent road. He could only assume it was heading back to a hovel and the group was on the verge of discovery.

“Perhaps she doesn’t have a mate,” Silver responded. “Something tragic may have happened.”

Thorne couldn’t help but wince. It went under the radar. Glitter turned her head to look at Silver with an appraising eye. “You might be right about that. Unless like Thorne said, we missed something that large. Or since we’ve not been able to gauge sex, we might have gotten the two mixed up at some point. Perhaps we saw what we thought was one, but they were just out and about at different times and areas.”

Tempest chimed in, “But if the mate was around, would it be exhibiting the same behavior as the one we’re following?”

That made Glitter look back to Tempest. “Okay… fair point. It wouldn’t be doing the same behavior. Unless both are dying.”

“And you’re sure that was a sound to indicate pain or sickness?” Thorne asked with a raised eyebrow. There was a nod from the mare and his eyes went back to scanning their quarry. “Right.” He let a sigh through his nose. “I think it’s mate-less and caring for offspring. And it might be marking off places it has explored to find food. Look. It’s heading toward that cavern there, between the rocks.” Thorne motioned with a hand. All three heads went looking to where he was pointing.

“I remember reading the report before we came out here,” Silver started in, “It said you dealt with a young minor that had gotten away from the mother. What if this is one and the same?”

“Surely it isn’t,” Tempest resolutely stated.

Glitter raised her hoof. “She might actually be right, Fizzy. If it was, perhaps the mother led her youngling down the mountain because it knew this territory better after being out here for so long. So maybe it’s trying to leave it in hunting territory.”

“But there is barely anything to hunt.” Tempest retorted.

“Shh! Look!” Thorne demanded as he lowered his body in the dull green shrubs. The wind had shifted, putting them upwind of the creature. Luckily it seemed the scent cover was muddying the smell enough the Ursa only paused to sniff before continuing into the valley of rocks.

Once at the mouth of the valley, it let out a noise that Thorne felt was cautionary. While the sound may have been one of caution, it was replied to. A more pitched version came from a cavern and out came an Ursa Minor standing at full height. Once it saw the Major, it went to all fours and the two brushed against one another.

The four all stayed deathly quiet as the exchange happened. Thorne and Silver both had their eyes darting around to see if anything else joined them. Nothing did.

The wind began to pick up, muting the sounds of the two in the valley. Tempest gave a click of her tongue and looked to Glitter Drops who nodded. “We should get back to the cabin. Wind is starting to turn and drop the temperature. We don’t want to be out if a blizzard hits.”

“There wasn’t anything like that in the weather report, was there?” Silver asked.

“Weather is wild out here. Could change in an instant. Got to pay attention to nature.”

Silver nodded. “Right… That makes me have a question.”

They all rose from their hiding spot and began to back off slowly so as to not attract attention. Glitter smiled at the batpony. “Ask away!” Her tone was cheerful and eager, but quiet enough to not disturb.

“Thorne seems to disturb nature everywhere he goes. Is there a reason for this?”

Tempest was the first with a snide remark. “His attitude, maybe?”

“Not what I meant, but that could be it,” Silver responded. “No, it’s like every animal around him just goes quiet. Like they’re afraid of him. While in the air, I witnessed some woodland critters avoiding his general vicinity. If he approached them, even if it was unknowingly, they ran and hid. I also noticed birds would stop singing or chirping--some even flew off.”

Thorne crossed his arms and gave a grunt as they continued to walk back down to their previous path. The mutterings of a disgruntled human could be heard by the thestral ear, “It is not my attitude. It's not my fault this world hates me.” He found his words drew Silver’s eye and a look of ‘are you sure about that’ which prompted him to shut his mouth out of fear of proving her right.

Glitter Drops looked back to Thorne. She stared at him a moment, slowing her walk. His eyes looked back at her. He saw that familiar twinge of uncertainty he had seen in several other ponies that met his gaze. She looked away. “Well, if I’m being honest? He kind of reminds me of a predator.”

“You know, when I first arrived here and got examined, a doctor said the same thing. Even said I had eyes like a thestral.” Thorne remarked with a hint of pride.

“I can certainly see that!” Glitter spoke up over a sudden gust of wind. They had finally moved far enough away to have a normal volume conversation; something Thorne was thankful for as the wind had started to pick up and he was starting to lose hearing.

“Ah. Perhaps that is why you did not fear my son and I when we met then. You had been compared to us,” Silver stated.

“I didn’t fear you because I had nothing to fear. I didn’t have reason to fear. I didn’t have context for any fears,” Thorne responded with a flat tone. “I simply had heard about strange bat-like ponies that had odd eyes. The moment I caught your son and noticed he was bat-shaped, my first thought, I believe, was ‘adorable’.”

Silver paused her walking and looked back at him. “Truly?”

There was a nod from the human. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. All of you ponies, to me, are adorable. He was just small. And bats are cool.” He shrugged. “Mixing a pony with a bat? Cool and adorable. Adora-cool.” He knew how cheesy it sounded and followed it up with finger guns. All three rolled their eyes and two laughed at him. Tempest sighed at how corny it was. Once the moment passed, they all started walking again.

Glitter looked back to the human, garnering a mutual appraising stare from one another. “Sorry if it sounds insulting, Silver. It’s been many years but some still see batponies as predators. But ponies often see anything with sharp beaks or claws or fangs as something with a predatory nature.” The mare looked away from Thorne and to the thestral.

Silver lowered her head, sighed, and nodded. “I understand it. I’ve accepted it and everyone has, for the most part, moved on. It isn’t insulting any more. But perhaps that explains more about Thorne and his presence.”

“My presence?” He questioned.

“You give off an aura of confidence. But it is confidence laced with something dark. A... “ she paused, mouth moving as she tried to find the word. “What would you call it? It is like a way to carry yourself!”

“Swagger?” Glitter posed it as a question.

“Yes! Moltimek! Swagger! This swagger that says ‘I am better than everything’. It is that but laced with this feeling of dread. That if someone or something were to challenge it, you could put them down. In a terrible way.”

Thorne smirked at that description. “I mean…”

“Yeah, yeah.” Silver huffed.

Tempest was the one to look back at Thorne this time. While she didn’t shy away from his stare and even matched it, she did sense what Silver was speaking of. “He wouldn’t hesitate to kill and would think it was nothing but sport.” She idly said the words with an almost bored expression. She looked at the other two, “A bit deranged perhaps.”

“I’m right here you know…” “And?” Thorne opened his mouth to keep arguing but sighed. “That’s fair I suppose.” His arms fell to his side and shuffled behind his back as they walked. They had made it back to the path that led to the cabin and now the pace had picked up.

Silence overtook the four as they walked. Nothing but the sounds of wind and the crackling of snow underhoof and boot filled the surrounding air. Finally Silver spoke up, “I think he thinks about it often. And earlier I saw him trembling. I’ve seen him tremble a few times--with fear and even rage and confusion. Which makes me think it doesn’t quite add up. Maybe it is this ‘swagger’ he has, but it seems more like a mask.”

“Again. I’m right here. Are we trying to analyze every little thing about me instead of the bear? Just because some birds and animals think I’m a predator?” Thorne’s voice came with a hint of irritation.

“I just find it odd, is all. I’d like answers and figured I would ask the experts.” Silver said, her wing extending to point at Glitter. “No sense in getting upset. Especially since what happens around you doesn’t happen around me.”

“I--” Thorne began to retort but stopped. “It doesn’t? Wait…” He tried to think back on if he had seen any thestrals interacting with animals. Nothing came to his mind, but he had no reason to doubt her words. He put a hand to his chin and stroked. “Hrm. This gives me something to think about, then.”

‘If that’s true, maybe she is right. Maybe it is this ‘mask’ I wear. Maybe there is something to this ‘harmony’ stuff. Something deeper than just the meaning of it.’

Thorne let out a frustrated sigh and rubbed his face. “Bah! So much to think about and cover. I’m going to explode at this rate. Let’s get back to the cabin. How far?”

“Not far now,” said Tempest.

1. A Slave Again

‘Endure and adapt. Endure and…’

A searing pain ripped through his body as a brand was pressed into his chest over his weakly beating heart. The sound of it filled his ears, a sickly hissing as skin was burned. But it wasn’t from the heat of flame that the brand blossomed into existence.

‘Magic…’

His heart rate rebounded as the mark took the effects. The scent of what he thought was his own burning flesh was instead the scent of meat sizzling on an open fire. It crackled and popped as the juices dripped into the open flame. He actually let a chuckle upon thinking that his own burning skin was so flavorful in smell.

“Something funny, servant?”

‘Oh hey Satan.’

“Yes, Master,” the servant spat the word like poison from his lips. “I thought you were branding me with fire, yet it appears to be magical. Still hurt like a bitch, however.”

“Pain is a way to keep you subservient. I will reward you for when you do good, but since you refuse to believe that this is real and you need a leash put on you, I decided to kill two birds with one stone.” The elderly male voice crooned on.

“Of course, Master.”

‘When I get free, I will kill you… In the most bloody way imaginable. I’ll skull-fuck you, gods damn it!’

“Still believe you’re in… What was that name you called it? 'Hell'? And that I was… 'Satan'?” the sagely voice chuckled. It was dark and tortured, wrought with years of strife. A voice fit for a sage, but one who only knew death and destruction.

“So far, Master, you haven’t proven me wrong. I’m shackled, surrounded by intense heat that feels like fire, in what appears to be a desolate wasteland, and now I have a magic brand over my heart. This is what I get for studying the occult I suppose.” Another humorous chuckle escaped the captive. “If you are to be believed, I am in another world. Still very much alive after what was likely my last night on Earth.”

“It is all true.”

“So. You’re not a demon. You’re a centaur.”

The hooded figure rolled the meat over the pit it was cooking above. It made his captive grimace. One side was nearly charred black. “Indeed I am. Cast out for the magic I can do, but it doesn’t make me any less of what I am. A centaur.” With that, the hood came off and with it, the entire cloak. “And you were…?”

“Lord Thorne.”

The centaur scoffed. His entire being rippled as he did, his four hooves tapping against the red rocks as it moved close to Thorne. He was muscular, but in a way that showed survival, not training. His skin and fur were all reddish and brown; the colors making it appear like rust. Long white horns curled from his skull. A bullish face was accompanied by a jeweled nose ring, it plated in gold. The jewels themselves looked like emeralds. All of them seemed to thrum with power. Long hairs from his mane mingled into a beard that went down both past his withers and his chest. It was a pallid white, more sickly and matted, while the white of his horns was eggshell and pristine.

“Lord. Ha! As if that title means anything here, slave.”

‘Ah, I’ve been demoted.’ Thorne thought to himself. ‘Too bad I already knew what I was. Once a slave, always a slave.’

“No, I believe you said you were a ‘human’, correct?”

“Yes, Master.”

“A human. Intriguing. I’ve never heard of such a thing, but seeing as you’re some entity from another realm, I suppose that is to be expected. You do not look like much. You’re as tall as me I would assume. At least when not on your knees. You look rather muscular as well. Fit and well trained. Tell me more about yourself before I send you to your mission.” The centaur waved his hand toward the food. “Tell me and then I have a simple task for you to do in order to prove your loyalties. Then you will be free to eat.”

“I didn’t think you would care, Master.” There was so much sarcasm; it was easily picked up by the hooved creature.

“You have a quick tongue, I will give you that. But I asked you a question, slave.” The hand of the mage rose up, the palm filling with a sickly green magic. The brand upon Thorne’s chest began to pulse and he did everything within his power to suppress a scream of agony. Upon seeing the reaction from his prey, the magician let his quarry go. Thorne could only gasp and pant out a moment, his mind trying to rapidly bring him back to normal.

After a moment of magic-induced pain, the slave responded. “I am Lord Thorne. Though that is my self-appointed title and my call sign. You will not have my real name, monster.” Thorne spat on the ground, his mouth dry from a day without his thirst being quenched. He got an eyebrow raise in retort but continued. “I led the paramilitary organization known as Black Roses.”

“Self-appointed. Ah, I see. Someone thinks very highly of themselves. Led a militant group, hmm? And what did you do?”

“I did it all. Theft, extortion, protection, conflict incitement and resolution, trafficking, smuggling of contraband, and assassination. And those are the fun things in my book, especially the first and last one.”

At that, the beast clapped. “Good, good! My spell worked! I asked for a skilled assassin and one was given to me!”

‘A magical spell that summons someone just to be an assassin…’ Thorne let a soft sigh. ‘Yep. Never messing with the occult again. Fuck magic. And fuck infinite universe theory.’

“A strange oddity you are, however. You will be noticed and likely summoned to see the targets I have in mind. Which is a good thing, though… I still doubt your combat prowess. And you are a cripple.” The centaur gave a flat stare at the left arm of his captive. It was shackled, though the iron was clamped above the elbow. The chain on his left side was longer than the one on his right; the right being chained at the wrist.

“I never caught your name,” Thorne interjected.

“You say that like we are to be equals. You don’t give me yours aside from a designation. ‘Master’ suffices for now.”

‘Good to know I can change the conversation on a dime, though he is quick of wit… These creatures aren’t just beasts it seems. And he isn’t easily riled.’

“Besides, if you were to be captured and you managed to utter a name before your death curse, then that would reflect back onto me now wouldn’t it?” The centaur almost cooed the words with a knowing smirk.

‘Ooo, and cunning too. A little respectable.’

“Right, Master. As far as combat prowess, I am rather undefeated. That is why I led my group and assumed the title of Lordship. However, when you summoned me, you saw the strange mechanical device on my arm and assumed it was a weapon--” Thorne was cut off as a face was now pushing against his with a snort.

“Assumed it was a weapon?! It was a weapon!” The Master snarled. “You took the conniving chance to bow before me before a hidden blade came rushing out of it like you were testing me! I barely managed to dodge your blow!”

‘Heh. Okay that riled him. Can’t blame him.’

“I never said I wasn’t an asshole, Master. And I was testing you. Listen, if you had thought you just wound up in the afterlife yet you still had access to your weapon, wouldn’t you try to slice and dice the first entity that came into your view?” Thorne retorted with a smirk.

Another hot and foul snort was firmly planted in his face. The centaur backed away and shook his head, turning away from Thorne. “No. I don’t believe so. So that means you’re rather cunning. Or an idiot. You wanted to establish dominance from what I could tell.”

‘I am a top, yes. A generous one, but still.’ The human almost lost it at his own musing but went back to a poker face once the centaur turned around.

Master took an appraising look. “You’ll have your strange device back once I get what I want out of you. What were you muttering about as I blasted you back against the rock face?”

“That I was in Hell, Satan looked very differently from the books, and that I had apparently done something right with all my occult shit.”

“And this… ‘Occult shit’... What is it?”

Thorne snickered. “Sorry. I should say it like that. I shouldn’t swear at my Master. But the occult of my world would be the magic of this one. Though, magic never existed there. Or if it did, it’s far lesser than anything here.”

“And what made you think it had worked?”

“With all do respect, sir, I was at death’s door. I was ready to die. I thought I had died when suddenly this strange portal opened under me as I was lying down to go to sleep for the last time. I even left my mechanical arm attached to my body so I could at least be buried with it--it is a tool of my own making. I’m quite the genius, if I say so myself. Not to brag.”

“You’re very much bragging,” the centaur said with a bored glance.

‘Someone’s a mood killer.’

The centaur brought a hand up to his chin to stroke through his beard as his tail swayed in thought. “You thought you were dying. Once you were unconscious, I decided to scan your body. I found no malady within you. No disease. Nothing that seemed out of the ordinary. And before you say ‘how’, with magic of course.”

“I was awaiting death by execution.”

That got a quizzical look.

“I’d rather not go into it, Master. I’d rather just get on with why I was brought here. And preferably have some clothing and a meal at the least.” Thorne stated matter-of-factly.

“Clothing is something I cannot give, though I can give you a shawl to at least protect you from the cold and heat as you trek across the desert. As far as why you are here, you are here to assassinate the Princesses of a foreign land. Four of them--though one had a daughter and she should be slain as well.” The centaur went over to the human and began to unshackle him. “I’ve given you a death curse which will only activate if you attempt to kill me, flee from this world, or if I deem you a lost asset. It will fade from your skin and lie hidden so you can pass by inspection from the natives of the country you intend to infiltrate. They have never seen something like you, so you’ll likely be brought before your targets in some way or fashion.”

Thorne was freed and fell forward, his arms aching. Finally he could focus on his hunger and thirst, though he knew it wouldn’t be something he could obtain at the moment. Firstly, he had several questions and a few statements to make.

“You mentioned one having a daughter… I would like to inform you, Master, that I have three rules that I operate under. And I never break them. If you’re asking me to do this, I ask that you kill me now.” Thorne’s voice never wavered as he spoke. He was resolute.

“Tell me these rules. Silly that a criminal has rules, but go ahead.”

“Honor among thieves and all that. Rule one: I do not kill children. I will subdue and incapacitate, but never kill. Rule two: I do not use seduction on targets. I never mix business with pleasure.”

This got a chuckle from the centaur.

Thorne rubbed the stump of his left arm. He slowly rose up to his feet. Sure enough, the man was as tall as the centaur. Though the centaur was only a few inches above six feet at full height, he had taken the opportunity to browse some paintings the Master had within his home. Some of his kind seemed to grow to fantastical heights and sizes. This one seemed tame.

“Finally, the last rule: Let me handle things my way. Any criminal activity I commit while on the job that wasn’t specifically ordered is my own. Or if it isn’t ‘criminal’, then anything I do are choices that I make. Examples include: trafficking and using stimulants of some kind, or perhaps stealing from someone in order to further my own ends.” Thorne gave a stare at his Master. “You may be in charge of me and even put a collar on me, but I will see that I have freedoms.”

“A bit demanding aren’t we?” The centaur said with a sly smirk. “But, you’re the expert in these matters. And now all I need from you is to prove you will do what is needed.”

“And what is that, Master?” Thorne raised an eyebrow.

The centaur went over to retrieve the mechanical arm. He handed it back to the human who had nothing but a curious glance at the beast before him. Next the centaur disappeared behind a cloth curtain. It gave Thorne a moment to attach his arm and check the status on the read out.

‘The batteries will last another two months… Should have changed them. Two months until I’m back down to one arm. I need to find a library in this world. Perhaps I could make my own batteries. Crude and rudimentary, but I could do it.’

He took the lull in the conversation and company to watch the fire for a moment. Then his eyes went wandering about the hovel. They were in some sort of desert it seemed and they appeared to be a natural cavern, given the mouth that was emitting daylight. Though dusk would be setting in quickly, if this world worked anything like his own. The sun seemed to be setting in the west--what he assumed was west, any way. He began to theorize about making a compass, though he didn’t even know if the natives had mapped out the cardinal directions. From everything around him, it seemed as though he was in a fantasy game. Surely they had some technical advances. But this was also a world of magic. And magic, at that moment, seemed like heresy.

Impossible, yet plausible. Fantastical, yet graspable. He mused over if he would ever be able to channel the magic of this world. He hadn’t stopped trying on his own, why would this one be any different?

He wandered over to a nearby mirror. He noted the knick-knacks on the walls. Paintings and tapestries that seemed to tell stories of the centaur race, though he couldn’t decipher much of it. Thorne had been amazed to even understand the language, though something told him it was magic. Something deeper told him it was due to that brand.

‘Here I am on a brand new adventure and I don’t even have to study a new language,’ he mused as he inspected his brace that went over his elbow and held the robotic arm in a more stable position. He had to take a moment to brace against the pain as he snapped it into the synapses that connected it back into his controlling nerves. He growled out and began to run a diagnostic, tapping idly on the screen. ‘Bastard just tugged the thing off. Surprised he didn’t break it, the brute. No lasting damage… No broken gears or servos…’

Thorne sighed and looked into the mirror. A male human stood naked, though he had no shame in his body. He was muscular and toned, his skin slightly tanned. He wasn't a body-builder, but it was clear his body was put through the paces of a military life. It was also abundantly clear he had seen a life-time of war. Scars littered his body. Bullet wounds, stab wounds, impacts from shrapnel. Every soldier he had encountered always seemed to have a thousand-yard stare after a few tours. Those that didn’t gained what he called ‘the madness’. And he had soared clear over that, he felt. At this point, it was numbingly easy to take a life. To do any sort of criminal act. He instead made it a game--which led credence that he was mad in his own right. One that he owned up too. He wore it proudly around his neck.

It was a sterling silver chain and ornament that hung loosely from around his neck. Instead of dog-tags or any type of identification, instead, Thorne had the alchemical symbol for ‘Chaos’. The Chaos Star, as it was called. He had lived his life in chaos. He had become its adherent. A devotee of it. It was another reason he had gotten into the occult. It was just a symbol of arrows pointing in each of the cardinal directions, all connected at the center in unity. A symbol of an ever-changing and ever-expanding universe. But to him, it was a promise.

‘In all there is, let the Chaos be your guide. Listen to the symphony it brings. Hear the cacophony of reality being bent and twisted. Let it snap and rebound. Find the peace within. Find the strength to overcome. Find the Order within it. Latch onto what is around you. Make it permanent. Make it yours. Once you have found your balance, endure and adapt!’

He sighed.

‘Endure and adapt. The pinnacle of humanity summed up in a simple phrase.’

He reached up with his now functioning left hand and ran his fingers gently over his face. He inspected his eyes. Gold as the day he was born, though they lacked the luster he usually had. He had no reason to be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed at the moment. He chuckled as he thought about that ‘thousand-yard stare’ he had seen so many times and how now, of all times, he had apparently found his.

His hand went up, inspecting the rest of him. It went through his short gray and silver hair. He was only thirty, but he had gone gray early--a gift from his father. He would have blamed genetics, but at this point he felt it was more fate than anything. At least it gave him a look of superiority. Those mechanical fingers then went down to the goatee he sported. It had been a few days since his last shave and already the shadow was coming in around it. He’d need to shave, but that was a priority far in the back of his mind. Instead he began going over a mental checklist as he stared at himself in the mirror.

‘So much to do. Research is a priority. I’ll need time to find the targets. I’ll likely be walking to my destinations. I’ll need to build weapons… No first, steal some clothes. Would they even have clothes for someone like me? What do the natives of this land look like if I’m talking with a centaur…? Okay. No. First things first: steal money. Research the currency. Then the politics. Find out what is acceptable and what isn’t. I’ll need to probably ham it up and get the locals on my side… The problem is getting attention to myself. He said that I’d be an oddity, right?’

Thorne frowned. He brought both hands up to his head. “Raaah... fuck! Come on, think damn it!” He sighed and dropped his hands. His eyes closed a moment, his chest rising and falling as he deeply inhaled to find his center.

‘Okay. Yes, step one: Prey upon the locals. Act distraught and in terror. Play upon, what I hope, is their good nature. That works.’

He found himself staring at his own gaze with a confident smirk. ‘That’s the ticket!’

“Admiring yourself?”

The voice startled him out of his musings. “Just thinking, my Master,” Thorne said with a shaken tone.

“Hmm. Good. You show considerable promise, then. Come, this way,” the Master motioned. “One thing to do before I feed and water you.”

Thorne raised an eyebrow but followed the creature back behind the curtain. This room was much the same as the foyer--what could be considered that, he thought. A cavernous hole lit up by torches. Though there were some stairs that led down, worn with years of hooves upon them. It was a short descent, but the space opened up into a much larger affair.

And in the center sat a cage. And trembling with the cage was an equine creature--what looked like a small horse. Though, it wasn’t what Thorne was expecting from a horse. This one had a horn upon its head. It’s eyes were gray and almost lifeless. It had a colorful mane and coat--the mane was blue with a stripe of yellow running through it, while the coat was a minty green. It was garish in his opinion, but it made several questions arise.

Questions that were quickly silenced by words the creature spoke. “Please… help me…!”

“Silence!” The centaur roared.

‘It spoke…’ Thorne said mentally to himself in a disbelieving tone.

The Master turned back to Thorne. “Kill it. This is your test of loyalty to me. You will get your meal and your freedoms once you end its miserable life. I’ve no need for it, I’ve siphoned the magic from it already. It is useless.”

The human stood there, drinking in every feature of the unicorn. It reached out a hoof in a pleading manner. It was male by the way it sounded, though with the way it was lying down, Thorne couldn’t tell. Not that it mattered. It was a horse. Or a pony, rather. It looked as though it barely went up past his own stomach, even with the horn.

Thorne stared at his Master a second too long afterwards. The centaur snorted. “Too weak-willed?” He questioned.

The human stepped forward. “No, just surprised is all. This a native of the land I’m going to?”

“It is indeed,” the Master said with a pleased tone. Thorne assumed he was pleased at how astute his pawn was.

“Very well,” Thorne sighed and knelt down, reaching out to stroke the mane of the pony in the cage with his right hand. It shivered and shied away from him. “Shh, shh. It’s okay…”

‘It’s not okay. But I’ll make this quick. It’s you or me,’ Thorne thought.

His left hand came forward, stroking under the chin of the creature. With a flick of his fingers, a hidden blade extended and went diving into the pony’s throat. In a singular motion he sliced downward and deeply, ripping viscera from the colorful equine. Blood sprayed violently from the sheer force of his thrust, it splattering back over him. He stared into the creature’s eyes. It had this pleading look--far more than any animal he had ever seen. ‘Those eyes were so expressive,’ he thought to himself. Within moments, the life force drained from the mint green captive. He held them there a moment before retreating away with cold professionalism. The blade retracted into its hidden compartment.

‘Endure. And adapt.’

6. A Short Row

“Well I don’t know what it is, but it looks like it’s singing…”

The pegasi on the cloud took a moment to stare at each other before bursting out into laughter.

“Singing! What could possibly make it want to start singing?!” A cobalt blue mare said with tears in her eyes. She pushed next to the stallion. “Here! Let me see through that thing!” She put her eyes to the spyglass. The stallion gave a grunt and shifted aside. “Here, let’s move a little closer. I doubt it knows the cloud watch. It isn’t centaur.”

“Yeah but it is wearing centaur decorated rags. We’re going to have to report this,” the mare responded as she watched the confusing creature continue its merriment. “It looks absolutely dreadful.”

“Well that is the point of that wasteland,” the equally cobalt blue stallion said as he dug his hooves into the cloud and flapped his wings to push the cloud a little closer toward their target. “I’m amazed it seems to be in such high spirits.”

“Probably too dumb to understand. I’m more amazed it managed to make it through that desert.” The mare squinted through the spyglass. “It has a rug thrown over it, some supplies, and it knows how to use a raft. It must have scavenged.”

“Or, those monsters helped it.” The stallion grunted with exertion.

“Shh! We’re closing in. Listen! I think I can hear it!”

Thorne shouted out his jaunty tune as he went blissfully unaware to the spying that was happening above him. He was belting his song out at a Royal Canterlot level that made the two pegasi shiver.

“Sweet Celestia he’s loud!” The mare said in a harsh whisper. Her male counterpart nodded in agreement, taking his hooves to hold them over his ears.

“How do you know it’s a ‘he’, sis?” The male asked as he flicked his ears.

“Because it sounds like a stallion! Or well, it has a deep voice like one. Like one should,” she teased her brother.

There was a derisive snort from the effeminate sounding stallion. “Just jealous I got a stallion and you don’t,” he stuck his tongue out in a tizzy. His sister rolled her eyes.

“Come on, let’s go report this. Take us back to the ship. Command will likely want to intercept whatever this thing is. Nothing good comes out of centaur lands.”

There was a nod from her brother as he shifted in the cloud, moving to push their stealthy transport back toward Equestrian waters.

Thorne was too busy with his singing and paddling to notice.

The boat was small--nothing more than a patrol sloop. It wasn’t armed aside from the guards on board. Several unicorn deck gunners, pegasi patrols, and earth pony crew. It wasn’t meant to fend off a naval intrusion, merely act as a vanguard. It patrolled the waters near the deserts and wasteland that the more monstrous races called home. It had been moored up until a night ago before it was brought back on duty. Several of the guards were shaking off the evening of one last night ashore before they did a tour of the waters for the next two weeks. They had arrived in their patrol path early that morning and had sent several pegasi scouts out as the moon was being lowered.

“Another fine day on the seas, right captain?”

“Aye, that it is.”

It was going on mid-morning and Captain Crushing Depths was enjoying the salty breeze that blew across the deck of his ship, The Deep Blue. He stood resolute, his earth pony heritage shimmering in Her Majesty’s glorious sun. He had on a white uniform with the bars of a captain clearly denoted on it. It did much to hide away the amber-grain color of his coat. He closed his emerald eyes and let the breeze sway his caramel brown mane.

His mouth rolled the pipe between his lips before taking a slow drag from it. He exhaled the smoke through his nostrils. “How was your shore leave in Vanhoover--”

“Sir look!” His companion on the deck called out, interrupting his captain. Captain Depths was standing next to his first officer, a dull rust colored unicorn by the name of Rusty Anchor. Sapphire eyes that sparkled with untapped youth seemed to be peering up at the sky. Next the captain witnessed the binoculars being brought to the officer’s eyes in the grasp of a faded silver magical aura. “It’s… Spring and Summer, returning sir!”

“Let me see those,” the captain demanded. The officer obliged and sent them levitating over to his commander. The earth pony took them from the silvery telekinetic grasp and peered up to the encroaching cloud.

He could see the two pegasi scouts returning at high speed. “What are Spring Showers and Summer Flowers doing…” the captain commented. His curiosity got sated as the two abandoned their cloud and went floating down toward the ship.

“Permission to come aboard, captain!” The stallion called.

“Granted, Specialist Summer. You’re here, which means you’ve something to report. So hop to it.”

“Sir!” The brother and sister said in unison as they landed daintily on the deck. They looked at each other and Spring took a step forward.

“We encountered some...thing, sir. It sounded male in its singing, but we can’t be sure. We’ve never seen anything like it. The way it moved and sounded, it was almost like a minotaur. But it seemed nearly hairless. The thing was naked save for a centaur-made rug thrown over it!”

“Whoa, whoa, calm down Specialist Spring,” the captain retorted to her tale of fantasy with a gentle hoof raised. “So you two encountered some kind of… alien being that managed to not only come out of that desert, but it was singing?”

“Yes sir,” Summer interjected. “It was singing a rather jaunty tune about being in the navy.”

The first officer gave a snort at that. He was quickly reprimanded by the captain with a hard glare.

“How far is it from this position, Specialist?” The captain asked, his attention turning back to the brother and sister unit.

“In its current mode of transport, about a day, sir. It’s making a considerable amount of progress, but it looked pretty exhausted. It appeared to have stamina like nobody’s business.” The mare said. “The simple fact that it was belting out a song that was comparable to the Royal Canterlot voice should tell you enough about the lungs on the creature. So it stands to reason this thing is strong in both body and spirit.”

The captain nodded in thought. “I won’t lie, that’s actually kind of scary. Wasn’t using any magic, was it?”

“Not that we saw.”

“Alright. Give us a heading. We’ll intercept it.”

“Sir, what about our orders and what about command?!” Rusty exclaimed.

“We have a mysterious creature that is not only singing his merry rear toward us, but will likely reach our domain faster than any monster could before we could report back. While our orders are to keep these waters safe and keep exiles where they belong, clearly this thing didn’t get the memo!” The captain responded in a harsh tone, nearly shouting at his second-in-command.

“So!” He moved out from the upper deck, looking down at the gathered sailors. “General quarters! Specialist Spring! Give us a heading. We’re intercepting it and bringing it aboard in shackles! Deck gunners, flares out! We need all hooves present and accounted for--I don’t want a single scout to be lost and flying in circles when we aren’t in our designated position!”

A mad scramble happened upon the deck of the small ship as several bodies went piling into where they belonged. Spring Showers and Captain Depths shared a moment, getting their bearings on where this mysterious alien was in the vast ocean. Several of the unicorns on the deck lit their horns and fired a burst up into the sky that exploded in a bright and dazzling display of every color imaginable. Even in the bright of the daylight, it was seen for miles around.

“Well now… That’s colorful,” Thorne said to himself. He had taken a pause in his rowing in order to rest his weary body. He had laid out flat on the raft and was idly eating a carrot, his eyes watching the sky and the horizon. It wasn’t much of a view, but it was certainly better than endless sands and bland rocks. The fireworks that were now going off aided in the visual stimulation.

‘That’s likely a bunch of flares. Must be signaling another ship. Or maybe the shore line. Wonder if it’s some kind of code… Looks random, but one never knows.’ He thought to himself, the crunching of a carrot filling the air instead of speech. ‘I’ll likely have an escort on top of me in a little while. Maybe I can acquire some aid from them. A nice real meal, some healing salves for wounds, and maybe even a bed!’

Thorne swallowed the mushy carrot chunks he had been chewing on as he thought. With a flick on his tongue against his lips, he laid back and sported a cocky grin. ‘Let the games begin!’