Verve

After dinner, Arin and Umbra returned to the comfort of their shared bed to finish the night out with more cuddling. Once ‘morning’ came, General Falon - in full combat gear - had led them both to the tightly knit training grounds southwest of the Castle’s wall, granting Arin a new bracer fitted for his right wrist. It was much the same as the one the buck in front of him bore, with three jewels fitted on the face. It also served as a perfect vambrace, to protect his arm from accidental string snaps.

The first thing Falon did was show him how to operate the grappling hook mechanism; a simple spark of magic was enough to force the enchantment to release its stored tendril. Which was a crucial mistake on the Seraph’s part, as he curiously aimed his arm at a local tree branch.

The green vine-like magic rope shot forward, locking onto the wooden limb - Arin wiggling his arm to test the weight. Unfortunately, whatever he did caused the bracer’s magic hook to reel in and tug him head first to greet the canopy - sending him crashing into the thickest branch with a resounding CRACK!

The wood splintered and shattered, the remnants falling to the floor with him in a rain of tree gore, browning leaves, and small patches of snow. Luckily, Umbra was exceptionally quick minded, and saw this coming a league away. Her emerald aura immediately caught him, Arin’s wings billowing and blasting wind in a confused recoil from the pain.

By the time he was set to his legs, his hands had shot up to rub the massive knot forming over his skull, groaning in pure agony.

“By the feathers, I think I compacted a disk in my neck!” he cried out, running his hands hard over his short, brown hair - feeling the quickly swelling lump settling in on top of his skull. Urgently, he cast Antithesis on himself, grunting from the exertion. Without solar magic to balance the moon’s energy, healing magic was costly. It didn’t help that he still lacked the proper skill to target his… soul, or whatever.

Immediately, Arin’s neck popped - and he fell to his knees to recover. It took several moments too long for his nerves to settle, Umbra approaching his side. Falon, on the other hoof, stood back to have a bit of a chuckle at the new ‘recruit’. Seeing bucks, does, and now Seraphs crack their heads would never get old.

“It’s alright, Arin. At least you don’t have antlers; it’s all fun and games until one hangs by the horns for several hours too long. Do not worry about mastering the art of branch bolting, it’s more suited for the untamed wilds than it is for castle halls. Instead, we’re going to cover the more practical uses of having a vine on hoof to swing from, and why nearly every warrior in the Fey carries a bow. Stay here.”

The buck turned towards the nearby city’s wall, stepping toward the assembled training dummies. They seemed rather old and worn out; untended and unused for… probably three years, and left to the wilds to be reclaimed. Much like the walls farthest from the gate, vines and brush grew wild along the white stone here - and upon the hay and wood training constructs.

“We’re going to try something much simpler to start; instead of grappling a target that won’t move, we’re going to focus on a less sturdy object. Do you see this mock buck? Draw your bow - hold it in your left hand properly. Let me be clear when I say this; you will harm whatever you latch with your hook. So this technique is not for saving allies, as in a panic - you could quite literally rip out their throat. Luckily, the enchantment will fly for your intended target, so it’s not likely you’ll hit a friend when you attempt this.”

General Falon’s hindleg kicked hard at the target, dislodging it from the creeping vegetation. It took several more rattles to lift it from the floor, before it could rest on its proper legs once again. With that, he stepped clear of the area - closer to Arin to speak freely.

“What we’re attempting here is a technique meant to incapacitate your enemy and trip them. There are a few things to keep in mind while we practice this; the vine hook is immaterial to nearly everything except your target. Simply put, if you latched the tail end of your grapple into an object, the vine itself will pass through any object that isn’t magically dense. Trees, branches, ponies, deer - this enchantment is to prevent obstacles from whiplashing your body into terrain, or dislocating your hoof. It also prevents non-enchanted weapons from cutting through the vine itself.

“What you’re attempting is a two part process, and is so simple that even I managed this on my first attempt. Then again, I excelled in my training - maybe you will do the same. First, you will launch your hook into the target; nearly anywhere will do as long as it hits. In the same motion, pull the grapple taut and reel in your vine - a spark of magic will do this, so it’s second nature to do so subconsciously. Third, and this is important - use your magic to release the dummy before it drags it all the way in.

“This will put even the most stalwart creatures off balance, if not outright ground them. From there, it’s a simple matter - with the same arm, quickly aim an arrow and fire.”

“Er…” Arin frowned, “Should I nock an arrow first, or?...”

“...Nock the - Arin, the jewel on your bow transfers arrows directly from the quiver, to the string. Not only that, but it allows one to quickly infuse arrows with enchantments, and if no arrows are present - form magical bolts on the fly. You were instructed to use this, weren’t you?” General Falon raised an eyebrow at the Seraph; surely Arin was competent enough to know how to use his gear.

“I uh… may not have heard the first part. I was a bit distracted…”

The buck sighed. Of course he didn’t. “Very well then. From the top, listen please. Grapple target. Pull target. RELEASE hook. Shoot arrow. The reason why the bracer is on your right hoof, is because that is your naturally strongest limb from archery practice. In fact, the very bone itself has grown to supplement this - meaning that it can withstand a lot more force applied to it. Keep this in mind. Now, let’s see this in action. Remember, this is the easiest technique to master - so have confidence.”

Umbra’s hoof falls broke the snow as she approached near his right side. Keeping at least a few hooves distance for arm movement. Her green eyes locked with his own, giving the Seraph an encouraging nod.

With just a bit more confidence, he cast the magic propelled hook for the old buck construct, latching the tip into its chest. With a yank, he tried to draw an arrow in the same motion - but forgot to unlatch the hook.

The now charging dummy crashed into him - breaking his nose in the process; grunting in pain as he fell to the floor, dummy crushing his chest. General Falon and Umbra shared a look, before sighing quietly to themselves. The gray mare twinkled her horn at the wooden target, lifting it off the pinned Seraph - before helping Arin stand with a single hoof.

Groaning, Arin cracked his nose into place - before casting Resurgence over himself with the chime of bells and a flash of light. Luckily, the upgraded Sonata was extremely sturdy due to the Feyglass improvements, otherwise he’d need a new bow by now.

Falon’s magic twinkled, quietly resetting the wooden ‘enemy’. He was by no means upset; he was very patient, in fact. Once it was settled in place, and Arin had recovered - his eyes fell on the Seraph one more time.

“Again.” He pointed towards the fake buck, as Arin readied himself for another chance.

A bit embarrassed for failing an apparently simple task, the Seraph steadied himself for another round.

The vine lanced forward with surprising speed, crashing into the wooden buck. A firm tug knocked it to the floor, before the vine released - disappearing into the bracer once more. With surprising speed, he managed to draw an arrow magically to the string - on his first attempt, no less, take aim, and fire.

It crashed right into the mock buck’s back, the Seraph giving a surprised, yet confidence smirk.

“Okay, I can definitely get behind this idea now.” Arin smiled, his eyes lighting up as he looked to Umbra for approval.

At first, she didn’t react - it wasn’t in her nature to be overwhelmingly positive, but when she saw his hopeful eyes - a small, genuine smile was quickly returned.

“You did well. For a fledgeling, I suppose,” she said, that grin on her muzzle growing wider as Arin gave a chuckle in reply.

“Big talk coming from my sweet shadow; you’re in cuddling distance, you know that, right?”

At that, her cheeks went red. But her grin didn’t falter, in fact - her green eyes twinkled. “And you are implying that you are not? Do not take me for a mare unwilling to show public signs of affection.”

The large buck apparently didn’t expect this, and with a blink - he resettled his thoughts, turning to face the Seraph once more.

“Arin, please concentrate. You did it once. Considering how your previous attempt left you grounded, I wouldn’t celebrate just yet.” Falon dimmed his spirits, but he didn’t let this humble him too much - it felt good. He never knew a vine could be so useful! But, speaking of ropes and vines...

“Oh! Before I forget, Falon - Umbra and I were curious if we could lay a few small game traps out; she’s nearly a carnivore when it comes to food, and I’m quite the meat eater myself.”

At that, the buck raised an eyebrow; “If you so wish, though I believe it wouldn’t take more than a few minutes to pluck a hare from its burrow. We should focus on the important matters at hoof. Arin, your father must have taught you well about footing in battle, at least? You look ill experienced for the task, being on two legs - surely he gave you instruction on battle stance? You said yourself you were King once, as I recall dimly from our meetings.”

Oh no. Falon didn’t know about his full past. Then again, he dined with his bucks and does elsewhere, so it was reasonable to assume he wouldn’t hear much regarding his history. Save the few tidbits they shared when discussing battle strategy.

“My dad tossed my mother and I to the outskirts of Milla Serine when I was hardly more than a newborn. He then had my mother killed, for what reasons I’m not sure - he was the very same Leotoln who tried to overthrow the Princesses, not more than a few years ago. I grew up without a father figure in my life, and my mother was rather sickly - so everything I know is mostly self taught. So I can’t say I’ve ever had much of a family to begin with. I don’t suppose you’re much the same, huh?...”

General Falon frowned, his heart reaching out to the poor Seraph. “My father died in battle when I was hardly more than a yearling. My mother later remarried to a rather nasty buck, who later divorced her and took our land through a devious prenup. My mother later adopted trading to house us, and fell in line with a caravan to Goldmoon Fairglades, the Redtail Capital. This led to disaster, as that very same group never returned - swallowed by the wilds and lost to the ages, or a meal for a wandering beast. When she passed, I had nothing left, and was forced to roam the streets alone. It was only by good graces that I managed to become a soldier, despite my young age.”

He lowered his head, giving it a shake. “General Tanon took me in as one of his own; he adopted me outright, after my first few weeks. This was… ninety years ago. Unfortunately, tensions were high between the civil sector and the Circlet, as more disappearances in the thickets laid the blame on the lack of patrols. Eventually, he was forced to break a riot - dozens of his rangale received nasty wounds, and as was protocol at the time, took healing serums to restore their vitality. Unfortunately, the castle alchemists had acquired a shipment from within the city walls - and with a bitter populace, and an inexperienced magi, a widowed herbalist gave them angel trumpet roots instead of chamomile. When infused into tonics, this would outright kill a deer within minutes. Needless to say, there were no survivors.”

He turned his eyes to the stars, sighing in frustration. “I know your pain, Arin. Maybe one day, when the tensions between ponies and deer have eased - I could bear that same torch my father held aloft, and let you be a part of my family. If you’d like.”

At that, Arin was left in shock. The buck hardly knew him, but the amount of trust he laid on his shoulders - just now, in this very moment… it left him speechless.

“Why?” was all the dumbstruck Seraph could manage to say, as the buck turned once more to face him. Even Umbra was caught unaware by the kind hearted gesture; she raised her leg to her chest, stunned at just how big the buck’s heart was.

“Arin, you have trusted me with literally everything a General of my stature could ever want, to take Canterlot in a siege. Every hidden detail, guard formations, armor weak points, defensive tactics - all of this, in the hooves a lesser buck, would be used to bring your country to ruin. And you did this not in stupidity, but out of faith in my bucks and does - hope that we will do everything in our power to help save the world, even at the cost of Equestria itself. My father - Tanon, who I consider my own blood, reached out to me when I had nothing but a few friendly faces around me. And I see before me not a Seraph, but a buck alone in this world - looking for a hoof to take his own, and give him a home.

“If we stand upon the hill of victory, you will be welcome at my table any time. Not as friend, or ally, or royal guest - but as true, blood family.”

Arin had no idea what to say. He respected the tall buck before him, bonded with him - he knew Falon was a great leader, with a kind heart, willing to throw his life on the line to save his deer - but… could they really see each other as family? Arin wasn’t a cervine, by the feathers - he wasn’t even a pony, he had two legs, arms, wings… yet they both had the same soul, in some way.

“Are… are you sure?” the Seraph asked, a strange feeling tugging at his chest. Like his very heart was fighting to escape. Despite their differences, Falon - he wanted to give him something very few could. A hearth. A home. Family. And all of this, because Arin had nothing else to his name - only the friends he made, and the loose ties to a job he once held. But this… this was a foundation. A rock. Something you couldn’t buy - a piece of him he knew was missing, but… he never thought he could find.

“Tanon gave me this when I had nothing save the fresh faces of recruits around me to call allies. If he had never opened up to me, and given me a place to call home - I might never have excelled as I did. It only takes one act of kindness to inspire many more; something that King Aster shines at, and who I respect immeasurably.”

Arin rarely cried. It wasn’t a trait of Seraphs - it was often seen as a weakness, especially among Inert. But with this heartfelt gift… it… he couldn’t help but tear up. He came here to train and find skill, instead, he found the third and final piece of him he so desperately needed. First friendship, then love, now family.

Before he even realized it, he wrapped his arms around Falon’s neck, squeezing him close. The tall buck gently rested his head on Arin’s shoulder, a leg pulling him in close.

“You hardly know me,” Arin whispered. Fighting back the tears, trying so hard not to break.

“I know your heart; I’ve seen it with your words, your past. It’s in the right place, just like mine… Son.”

At that, he sobbed. He never had a father before. He never had anyone before. He had always been a misfit trainwreck strung along by fate and lacking so many parts to a whole. But here, in Equestria - he found everything he ever needed, and more.

“T-Thank you, Dad.”