Just A Slice

The next week passed in much the same fashion. His second night on duty he met Praetorian, the pony who had brought him to Luna. He was rigid and didn't talk much, but seemed to have an intelligent answer for everything presented to him. On Aeroslash's ninth day on duty Luna came to him before she raised the moon to speak to him, a look of seriousness on her face.

"Aero, I have a mission of sorts for you."

He drew closer as she presented some saddlebags for him. "The right bag has some money and supplies for a week or so, but the left contains an extremely Important package. It's your job to ensure that this package gets to it's recipient as soon as possible and without incident. Head south past the Badlands along the east coast and continue southward untill you come across the city of Dragonheim. After you deliver it, I want you to return to me immediately. You are not to speak to the recipient, nor will you converse with anyone you see. You are to avoid the public eye as much as possible. Take this to assist you with remaining unnoticed."

She handed him a silvery cloak. The silk fabric literally felt like water as he caught it in his hooves. It shimmered and waved, seemingly of it's own mind. "That cloak will entirely cloak you at night and make you very difficult to see at day. One of our master enchanters made it. Take good care of it."

"I will Princess." Good you will seek out a pony named Treshald. A completely black pony. Even his mane and tail. Give the package to him."

"I understand."

Luna only stared at him hard and long, not a hint of emotion on her face. There was nothing, like looking at a brick wall.

"Go." One word. One word was her only command.

Aero turned and after clasping the cloak about his neck, he set off into the drawing night.

Somepony knocked on her door. Flare got up and opened the door to see Princess Luna standing there. She invited her inside and offered her a seat. The alicorn declined and told her of Aeroslash's leaving.

"Aeroslash is off on a mission for me. I wanted you to know that he was going to be gone for a while and command you not to tell anypony, including my sister where he went, or that he went at all."

Flare could only stare at her in disbelief, her head reeling. He had left without even saying goodbye? Why hadn't he at least told her he was going?

"I sent him off immediately so that is the reason that he left without saying goodbye. he should return in about a month or so but until then, you will go about your buisness as if nothing is amiss. It is of the utmost importance that nopony know about this."

She could only splutter a, "Yes, Your Majesty," before Luna turned on her heel and left the room.

What in equestria would she do for a month to keep him off her mind? She barely got through the night alone in the bed but the day as well? And for so long? She wondered why the princess had sent him on such a long mission.

She tried to calm her nerves by going out to eat, but it did little to help. She kept expecting to see Aero sitting across from her, eating his favorite jalapeno sandwich. So after she returned to the palace she sought out the blacksmith. Upon her arrival she requested to use the facilities, and when she was granted permission, she picked up a bar of steel and a hammer and thrust the metal into the fire. When it was a lovely cherry-red, she drew it out and started hammering it.

At first she still thought of Aeroslash, but after a few minutes she lost herself in her work, the loud ringing of her hammer striking and molding the steel took her mind off everything. Her entire focus was on the shaft of heat that became more and more like a sword.

She hammered all throughout the night, reheating and tempering the steel when warranted, and by morning she held a rather impressive blade in her fetlock. The metal shone the brilliance of the forge behind her and the edge was sharp as the wingblades she had made for Aeroslash.

At the thought of Aeroslash again, shew tossed the sword onto a pile of finished weapons and walked slowly back to her room, too drained to do much other than sleep. But even in sleep, she still could not keep Aero off of her mind.

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Luna sat upon the throne, wallowing in her worry and boredom. She had sent Aeroslash on such a dangerous mission she wasn't sure if he had the skills to survive. If the city watch of Dragonheim didn't kill him on sight, then the Others probably would to help keep their contact secret. They wanted to keep Celestia from knowing their plans as much as Luna did, and probably even more and weren't held by any set of moral values. Her most recent package that Praetorian had brought her was helpful to her plans, but they had made yet another ominous warning against betrayal.

Luna continued to dwell on her worry for Aeroslash and for Flare if something happened to him. It was unlikely that he would return alive, but she trusted him even over Praetorian because of his oath for his life. An oath like that is not made frivolously and she knew Aero would hold true to it. Not at all comforted by that she sank into a perpetual state of worry.

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The first two days were uneventful, but on the third he could fly no longer and settled down in a small patch of trees. He could see the sea from above, but from so high, that meant he was still several miles away from reaching the glassy waters and start Southward. He landed in a heap, too tired to land gracefully, or even stand for that matter. He fell asleep into fitful dreams curled around the saddlebags.

He awoke in the middle of the night feeling not at all rested. His wings were aching and sore from such a long flight and his legs were cramped from his awkward sleeping position. He struggled to stand and tossed his cargo over his back before taking off into the night with fire in his wings.

It was several hours and dawn before he actually reached the sea. He landed on the shore for a short rest for his wings. His hooves sank into the sand a bit and the smell of salt stung his hard working nostrils. The sand made it hard for him to walk so he ended up losing more energy trying to walk than he gained for his wings.

He took off again hoping he would come across a stand of trees to sleep some around midday or so. Celestia's sun shone splendidly to his left as he flew south. Here, at the edge of the land, he could imagine the waters never ending and felt like he was flying along the very edge of the world itself. The scenery remained unchanged throughout several hours of flight, endless waters to his left and endless sands to his right.

He proved to be very fortunate. He spotted some rather dead looking trees, but trees all the same on the horizon. He strove for them but did not reach then until the sun had almost set.

Setting down, he observed that the trees did not provide much cover. They were all dead and the closest thing to brush around him was thick thorn brambles. He tossed the magical cloak over himself as he fell asleep under the setting sun, throwing a fiery blanket of light over the invisible lump as the moon followed to shine over the motionless body of the pegasus.

He awoke to the sun blazing his eastward-facing eyes blotting out his vision. He fumbled blindly in his bags and pulled out some food to eat while his eyes recovered from the sun's onslaught. The food landed sickeningly in his empty stomach, barren after several days of constant action and no sustenance. After eating he felt better and a bit more energized for the flight. He wrapped up his supply of food in the bag and refastened the cloak about him before he took flight.

Around 10 he could see desolate brown mountains in the distance like a wall to halt his journey. They drew on slowly, giving testament to their impressive size. Eventually he could make out crevices and passes between mountains with his eagle-like eyes. His wings continued to burn and his back hurt from the bags he carried. He was struggling to get in good breaths and foam crusted from his mouth.

But he pushed onward. The thought that his Princess had chosen him, gave him hope. If she had chosen him then she believed in him. His mind wandered to those in the palace he had met and he almost fell when he thought of Flare.

He hadn't thought to say goodbye before he left and he hadn't even thought of her during his long flight.

She was surely angry with him for not saying goodbye and he did not look forward to that part of his return, but he did miss holding her in his arms. The thought that if he pushed harder then he would get back sooner gave his tired wings new fervor. He flapped hard and began to ascend into the upper atmosphere. Up here it was a bit harder to breathe but he flew easier. Up here he got an idea.

It was speed he needed, but he also needed rest and there is only one way to get both, at least as far as he can tell. He flapped even higher, the air barely nourishing his lungs. He looked down and readied himself. He only hoped that his wings didn't fail and he crash to have his journey cut short. He strafed over to where he was hovering over the ocean, and pushed down as hard as he could.

He dove as fast as his wings could push, his speed surpassing that of what he had done at the palace. He could see the air break over his hooves and opened his wings in the vaccuum of air in preparation of the glide. His flicked his wings at just the right time and he streaked over the cerulean waves, barely even having to flap. The waves tossed and turned below him, trying to slap him down into their embrace. A few almost did, but he rose over them, wasting some of his meagre strength. He continued to glide for a long time. But nature had other ideas in mind for him.

A sudden gust sped over the waters, and hit his wing at a bad angle. His wing lifted over his head and he began spinning out of control. He flipped over sideways like a gymnast before slamming hard into the water. The water was frigid and sucked the breath out of him seconds. He couldn't tell which way was up and the undulating water sloshed him around like a Colttail Martini. His lungs threatened to burst as he exploded out of the water. His triumphant breath was cut short as a wave punched him in the face, filling his mouth and throat with brine. He went under again. He fought his way for the surface, clawing at the water helplessly. The saddle bags and his steel ladened wings dragged him down as his strength waned.

"You have failed me my son." His fathers words almost sealed his doom and he lost the will to fight. Death seemed such such a reprieve. He could just sleep. Never tire again. He could... be with his mother. At that point he stopped kicking. His lungs screamed at him and he felt lightheaded as darkness threatened to swallow him. His mother. If he died he could be with her. Hear her voice. He could hold her. There under the merciless waves, There was nothing sweeter.

As the last dregs of his life drained away, and he prepared to accept death. Thin wires lashed against his hide and clamped down on his wings. He could barely feel them. Didn't care to feel them. Death was all he cared about. Death, his sweet mercy. And he succumbed to the darkness.