Sunset didn’t really know much—if anything—about her cousin—well, cousins, now that Blóðþrá was in the picture, which was odd, as Skipting had never mentioned he had a sister. That much was obvious, as she hadn’t known he even existed until about a week ago. But she was sure she had met him before, perhaps when she was a child?

He talked in his sleep, and when he talked, he often murmured a single name—Hvíslandi. She definitely knew that name. It was the name of the Butcher of Maedwyn, who had ruthlessly slaughtered fifty-three Royal Solar Guards in the rural village of Maedwyn, which was located twenty-six miles north of the border between Equestria and Novira. And whenever Skipting said that name, he sounded somewhat relieved, but… sad. Did he personally know the Butcher? And if so, why did he seem so fond of him, and evidently devastated by the fact that he was dead?

Last night, while helping care for him, Sunset had noticed that her cousin was in possession of an amulet created by her late stepfather, Londo, just like she and her mother were. It was odd, as Skipting seemed to despise anything related to her mother, and Londo practically worshiped Celestia as a divine being, though she indeed was. But she was certain that that talisman was the source of the illusion spell she had detected on him last night. So Londo had given him a talisman to hide something, but what? Maybe the other parts of those odd scars on his arm and leg? But he seemed rather proud of all his scars, even the especially nasty ones.

Skipting didn’t seem to enjoy many things. He didn’t show much happiness, except when he rescued her and reunited with his sister. He seemed so… distant. And solemn. Like all of the joy had been sucked out of his life. She understood that he had lost his closest comrades during the war in Dragovan, including his wife, but that had ended about ten years ago. And he had his son and sister to keep him company, at least up until three years ago.

It was strange that he seemed to hate anything related to Celestia. Had she done something to him? Why had Nightmare Moon imprisoned her own sister? What had even caused the rebellion? Shortly before the rebellion, she had heard whispers of an ancient story, and Londo had told her the same story once, which told the tale of a man named “Yhauzakh the Abysswalker.”

According to the story, Yhauzakh faithfully served Princess Luna as her so-called “Moonwolf Knight,” having sworn an oath to serve her as faithfully as the people he hailed from, who called themselves the “Holy Legion of the Divine Blessed Moon.” This “Holy Legion” also served her, but Yhauzakh was her most trusted associate.

But one day, a group of Solar Guards captured and imprisoned Yhauzakh in the dungeons, branding him as a heretic and a blasphemer. They horrifically tortured him for weeks, until Princess Luna discovered him in the deepest depths of the dungeons. She tried to save him, but his wounds were too great, and he was said to have died in her arms, right hand reaching up towards the moon, and his left grasping the holy sword his Princess had gifted him, as he wished to die with weapon in hand.

Shortly after, the "Eclipse Betrayal" happened, where Princess Luna, in a fit of jealousy, as stated in the storybook about the event, attacked Celestia and attempted to murder her. In the end, Celestia was forced to use the Elements of Harmony to imprison her sister in the moon.

Sunset was very familiar with the story of Nightmare Moon, as pretty much every Equestrian was. But some things lined up with the “Tragedy of the Moonwolf,” as Londo called the tale of the unfortunate end of Yhauzakh, and some things about the Eclipse Betrayal didn’t line up with what she knew now.

Princess Luna just happened to attack Celestia in a bout of madness the day she lost her most faithful servant, while the official story of Nightmare Moon just so happened to say it was petty jealousy that caused the fight? Bullshit.

And Skipting was one hundred seventy-nine years old, and since Blóðþrá was his older sister, that meant that Nigmtare Moon had first met Queen Chrysalis at least a hundred eighty years before her return, as well as that of the Nightmare. So what was the deal with that?

When she had heard the whispers about the Tragedy of Yhauzakh, she had also heard whispers from the same people about “history repeating itself.” Londo had even muttered the same thing when she came into his study late one night, shortly before he died.

“The death of Black Yhauzakh is happening again,” those people whispered. Those people who whispered such things had been in service of Princess Luna at the time, and they dressed strangely, many of them wearing dark clothing, long coats, hats, and even stranger, masks. Some of the others wore armor somewhat similar to Skipting, but they had strange symbols on their cloaks. And yet another part of those strangers wore knight-like armor of iron, silver, and a strange black metal, with wind and lightning patterns outlined in gold and blue.

Sunset vaguely remembered hearing both some of these strangers and members of the Lunar Guard, as well as members of her mother’s guard, mention “The Wolf,” “The Bear,” “The Bull,” “The Snake,” and “The Dragon.” Skipting actually had the image of a wolf on a crest he wore on his right breast, so maybe he was the Wolf? And Blóðþrá wore a bear skin cloak, so while it might have been a bit of a reach, maybe she was The Bear? But who were the Bull, Snake, and Dragon?

And maybe those scars Skipting was hiding had something to do with those whispers? Since Yhauzakh was known as “The Moonwolf,” and Skipting was possibly “The Wolf,” and those strangers mentioned history repeating itself shortly before the rebellion, maybe Skipting was tortured by the Solar Guard, and his mother went insane because of it?

She shook her head.

Maybe I’m thinking too deep into things, she thought. After all, why would the Solar Guard harm Skipting, especially what with him being a decorated war hero?

She looked over at Blóðþrá. Skipting had left the room to use the restroom, so maybe now was her chance to try and learn about her clearly damaged cousin.

“Hey, Blóðþrá?” she said.

The woman in question looked up from the book she was reading.

“Yes, Sunset? Can I help you with something?” she asked.

“Well… Yes, actually. I was wondering if… you could answer some questions I have about your brother?”

Blóðþrá smiled.

“Wanting to get to know my little brother, eh? Why don’t you ask him yourself?”

Sunset rubbed her arm nervously.

“Well, um… The thing is… I’m not sure they’re the kinds of questions he’d be willing to answer.”

The giantess narrowed her eyes.

“What kind of questions?” she asked, her voice getting low, and her tone almost dangerous.

“Who’s Hvíslandi? I’ve heard the story, about him being the Butch—”

In the blink of an eye, Blóðþrá closed the gap between them, moving so much faster than her size would suggest. Her massive hand clamped down around Sunset’s mouth, drawing a surprised but muffled yelp out of the young woman. Blóðþrá looked behind her for a second, as though checking if her brother was back yet.

“Don’t say that fucking name!” she hissed. “Especially around Skipting!”

After a few frantic nods from Sunset, the giantess released her and pulled a chair over, staring her in the eyes when she sat back down.

“Where did you hear that name and title?” she asked lowly.

“I heard some of the Solar Guards mention that title as a kid, and Skipting talks in his sleep,” Sunset answered honestly. “He murmurs that name sorta often.”

Blóðþrá sighed, a great big heaving noise that kind of reminded the fire-haired girl of the bear her cousin wore on her head and back. She stood up and motioned for Sunset to follow.

The pair entered an empty office next to Celestia's, sitting down again once the door was closed.

“I’ll tell you, but this stays between us,” Blóðþrá said. “Understand?”

Sunset nodded.

“Alright. So, about thirty-seven years ago, Skipting got a message asking him to go to the village of Maedwyn. Hvíslandi went with him,” she began.

She leaned back in her chair and took out a small bag of beef jerky, taking a large bite out of a piece.

“Can I have a piece?” Sunset asked.

“Not right now. This story’s gonna get a little… messy. Probably gonna lose your appetite,” her cousin replied.

“Anyways,” she continued. “Maedwyn is a village governed by the High Lords of Kovoz ni Khur. It may be in the middle of what the Children of Dark call ‘Aakvalon,’ but it’s their domain. It’s a safehaven for Gravewalkers, Agmori-Akh’Javae, Blessed Ash, and people who ally themselves with Kovoz ni Khur.

“A large group of Solar Guards had been harassing the village for a few weeks, and occasionally, they would even drag some Children of Dark out into the center of town and execute them publicly. It was a witch hunt, basically.”

“But why?!” Sunset shouted. “Why the fuck would the Guard bother some random village, much less murder their people?!”

“The vast majority of the Solar Guard despise the Children of Dark,” Blóðþrá responded. “They see them as wicked, impure, offenses to the natural order. That’s the jist of it. Now let me continue.”

She huffed, but sat back and listened.

“The Children of Dark and the people of Kovoz ni Khur are a peaceful people. They don’t like conflict. But they will defend themselves if necessary, even if it requires lethal force. The Children in Maedwyn, though, didn't know how to defend themselves, or even how to fight in general. So it was a safe spot for the Guard to practice their misguided beliefs.”

“Then why didn’t these so-called ‘High Lords’ do anything?”

“It’s simple. They didn’t want to start a senseless war. Gravewalkers and Blessed Ash can only be killed with Abyssal weapons forged in Kovoz ni Khur, or weapons blessed by your mom. Agmori-Akh’Javae—”Father’s Moonkin,” in their tongue—on the other hand, are highly resistant to normal weapons in their true forms. You could shoot one in the face at ten paces with a standard-issue pistol, and they’d barely flinch. They’ve got thick skins, thicker coats, and dense muscle, so they’re practically immune to small arms and even some rifle calibers. You need big guns and special blades to even pierce an inch through their hides. See where I’m going?”

“In other words,” Sunset said, “it would be a pointless, one-sided war. Just endless slaughter.”

Her cousin nodded.

“Bingo. So, as I was saying, Skipting and Hvíslandi arrived at Maedwyn to see a bloodbath starting. The Solar Guard liked to crucify Gravewalkers and Blessed Ash since they can’t really die. For the Moonkin, they normally stayed in their weaker forms, so the soldiers would just kill them normally.

“Now, at the time, Skipting had recently started a very close and strong friendship with the youngest son of High Lord Ulfric, the Moonkin High Lord, so he was especially pissed off. Hvíslandi, though? He just liked to fight. His first name means ‘Whispering,’ so it’s pretty damn ironic that he’s the fighter and Skipting’s the assassin.

“So they go berserk. I wasn’t there for it, but from what they told me, Skipting used this spirit he’s got within him to brutalize the soldiers.”

She grinned.

“And I mean brutalize,” she said, clearly—and to Sunset’s horror—amused. “Looking back, it makes what he did in Dragovan look like a fistfight between drunks.

“When they were finished, the soldiers had to be identified through magic signatures. The two were heralded as heroes by the locals, but demonized by the Solar Guard, who slandered them and lied, making it sound like they just mindlessly slaughtered fifty-three innocent soldiers. Granted, their names weren’t put out—for some reason, but probably because Celestia forced them to omit their identities—so they were known to the public as simply ‘The Wolf and Butcher of Maedwyn.’”

“I… I never knew about that. Londo never even told me,” Sunset murmured, shocked and horrified by the story.

“You wouldn’t have understood back then,” Blóðþrá said, as if to reassure the girl. “Celestia sheltered you from that part of our world. She didn’t want you to know about the Children of Dark. But by the time you managed to learn some things about them, Londo was practically on his deathbed, throwing himself into his research. So he never got the chance to tell you the truth.”

“And my mom? Why shelter me? Why didn’t she want me to know?”

“She was ashamed, both of the actions of her soldiers, and the actions of Skipting and Hvíslandi. She didn’t like talking about that kind of stuff. Never did. And she didn’t really like or trust the Children of Dark, which was ironic, since she had one as her advisor, one who also acted as a sort of ambassador to the Moonkin. It’s weird that she chose the Berserker of all people to act as an advisor, what with his history and all that.”

After several minutes of silence, Sunset finally looked back up at her cousin.

“You told me about Maedwyn, but never said who Hvíslandi is,” she said.

A sad, dark look appeared on her giant cousin’s face, and she took a few more large bites of her jerky.

“I thought it was obvious,” Blóðþrá finally said. “Those two were close. You said Skipting talks in his sleep, and often says Hvíslandi’s name. He was one of the Twenty-Seven.”

“Oh,” Sunset murmured. “I didn’t…”

“How could you know? Many of the Fears were from the four societies Celestia feared and disliked, and besides, they don’t like or trust outsiders, so their names were hidden from the public, and false ones put out instead.”

The giantess leaned forward.

“But that’s not what interests you,” she said. “The question you’re asking is, ‘Out of all the names Skipting could repeat so often in his sleep, why Hvíslandi, and not one of the others, like his wife?’”

Sunset nodded.

“That is what I’m thinking,” she said, surprised by her cousin’s intelligence. “Who was Hvíslandi?”

“I told you his name means ‘Whispering,’ right?” Blóðþrá asked.

She nodded again.

“Well, with a name like that, especially with the odd naming convention of Equestrian society, it’s gotta match with a last name, right?”

Another nod.

“His last name meant ‘Moon.’”

Sunset’s eyes widened.

“You mean…”

“His name was Hvíslandi Lunam, and he was our brother.”

Author's Note

Hello, all! I am so, so sorry about not posting for so long! I know it's sort of an excuse, but I've just been really busy. But now, as of uploading this, last night I had a heart-to-heart with my mom about some dark thoughts I've been having for a few years involving a person who really badly hurt a very close friend of mine and never got punished, and those thoughts got even worse when I started watching Dexter two days ago. I have now decided to stop watching it, my mom completely understand my thoughts, and all is pretty good. But a few weeks ago, while I was riding my electric scooter to work, I got hit by a truck and had to be life-flighted to a hospital in Billings, Montana. I had a few brain bleeds, so I am left with some brain damage, memory issues, and severe irritation. But I got out about two or three weeks ago, and I'm doing better. I sincerely hope I can write and upload another chapter soon. I love you guys, peace out.