Armello and The Equestrian Exodus

by Joe Toon

Chapters

Chapter 1: Arrivals and Messengers
Chapter 2: Royals and Refugees
Prologue: The Festival and the Dark Future

Chapter 1: Arrivals and Messengers

“Hey Jacks, do you see that over there?”

“Aye. Is that a fleet?”

“Looks like it. Was there any notice about a fleet coming our way? Or sailing past us?”

“Nay. They would have told us ahead of time, or sent a runner.”

“Looks like they're striking colours. Wait… is that? … RAISE THE ALARM! INFORM THE COMMANDER! NOW!”

“I've never seen so many ships before!” said one of the remaining lookouts, “There must be at least five hundred of them! Some of them are even flying!”

“Sentries, report!” A tall stag of a deer wearing a velvet cloak appeared before the observation tower addressing the guards.

“A large armada coming from the west, Commander Caspian,” said one of the guards, “Biggest I've ever seen. Most are flying various unknown colours, but a few are flying Armellian.”

“How many?” ordered the commander.

“Hard to give an accurate count, sir. Their numbers are too great.”

“I meant the one flying our colours, you idiot!”

“Oh!” The sentry held up a looking glass towards the armada. “There are three… No, fo-five ships bearing our colours. Three appear to be damaged.”

“Druids’ horns, it's the expedition five years ago! Why would they bring… Oh.” The commander gasped, realisation dawned on him, “Bring me a scribe and pigeon carrier! Send word to Wardress Elyssia! The rest of you, man the defences and ready the guns! PREPARE FOR AN INVASION!”

As their commander issued orders, the lookout kept staring through his looking glass, his eyes wide with disbelief.

“Is that a floating fortress… on a cloud?”

Within the new city of Valeston which is a day's journey on foot from Stag’s Landing, Elyssia Stonebriar, Wardress of the Warrens, perused boredly through the month's tax income to be sent to the capital.

“The harvest is unexpectantly abundant this year, which means we are to have another surplus, which means we need more granaries, which means we need more building material, which means we need more workers, which means we need more money, which means we need to raise taxes,”she mused as she slumped her head on her desk. “Wyld’s roots,” she groaned, all decorum tossed to the wind, “if only I could be freed from this prison of paperwork. I am supposed to be an architect, an innovator, a city planner; not some accountant pushing quills and ink on musty parchments! I've built town walls that could match the marvel and strength of the capital itself during the war!”

She suddenly stood up from her desk, “And look where I am now. Just one city. That was all it took. One city in the middle of the crossroads, then the next thing I knew it's not enough workers, not enough food, not enough guards, not enough merchants, not enough money; JUST NOT ENOUGH! If it's not one it's the other. And whenever there is an abundance of anything there are not enough peasants and noblemen to buy them and not enough merchants to distribute them to the surrounding towns. I could always sell them to the capital but by then they would be worth less than what should be an acceptable price and would inflate the markets. Meanwhile they are occupying ever decreasing storage spaces and rotting there for Wyld knows how long.”

The rabbit once more slumped on her desk and groaned, “I need fresh blood in this city, or at the very least something else to occupy my mind and release me from this boredom.”

Suddenly a persistent knocking came to the door.

“Enter,” said Elyssia half-heartedly.

A chipmunk page swiftly entered carrying a scroll. “Wardress Elyssia, urgent message from a carrier pigeon from Stag’s Landing!”

The Wardress resisted rolling her eyes. “If this is about their shipment of sun-dried mackerel, tell them we have no more storage for it in Valeston.”

The page shook his head, “No my Lady, it's from the garrison commander. The carrier says it's about a sighted fleet from the coast.”

Elyssia's lopped ears slightly raised. “Pirates?”

“Unsure, my Lady, but five of the ships bear the colours of Armello.”

Elyssia's eyes widened. “The Expedition! Pass me the report,” she demanded. As she received it she broke open the seal and read into its contents. As she did so her complexion paled with dread from each detail of the report. “An Armada?! Flying ships?!”

She quickly turned to her page, “Summon my carrier pigeons and scribes, all of them! We must send word to the surrounding towns to raise levies and make for Stag’s Landing! We must also bring word to the Queen! Make ready my carriage and summon my captains. We leave for the ports immediately!”

“Yes my Lady!” the page saluted and left with all haste.

“This was not what I had in mind,” she grumbled to herself as she put on her cloak and made for the hall.

“Parry! Parry! Riposte! Good, again!”

…

“Parry! Parry! Riposte! Well done, Ambrose!”

“Thank you Father,” he panted as he smiled. The young white-furred fox is now twelve years old and is currently sparring with his father, Prince-consort Thane in Brimwatch's barracks courtyard.

“Shall we take a quick break? You seem tired,” asked the wolf to his son.

Ambrose looked up, still panting, “No need for concern, Father. Just let me catch my breath.”

Thane grinned. “Very well. When you are ready then,” he said as he took position.

Just then a shrill voice cried out.

“Prince Thane! Prince Thane!”

A small hedgehog page raced across the barracks calling out to the two royals. “Urgent message from Wardress Elyssia,” he panted as held up a sealed scroll, “I could not find the Queen so I came to find you.”

Thane grumbled as he took the scroll, unsealed it and read its contents. As he read his eyes bulged in disbelief. “A fleet? On our coast?”

Ambrose's ears perked up. “Could it be the Expedition after all these years?” he asked hopefully.

“Could be,” Thane replied, his expression darkening, “if the fleet wasn't more than a hundred strong and wasn't accompanied by floating fortresses on clouds. Sounds like an invasion to me.”

He looked to his son who seemed alarmed by the news. “Go find your Mother, she will most likely be in the Hedge Maze with your sister. Tell her there is a large fleet of ships at the coast of Stag’s Landing and that she needs to prepare to leave by noon. I will assemble the Guard.”

“Yes Father,” Ambrose saluted before racing out the barracks.

Rushing across the castle halls, bumping into the occasional maidservant, guard, minister and chamberlain (offering quick apologies along the way), Ambrose finally reached the hedge maze. The sound of a windpipe was heard as he entered, and while the tune was melodious the young fox cringed slightly at several notes that went either out of key or too forceful. Having a clear idea as to who was playing he withheld calling out as to avoid interrupting the tune, less he received an earful which would only delay his intended purpose for being there.

As adventurous as he was, Ambrose was not comfortable being in the maze, especially knowing that one of the last battles against the Mad King's army took place here. Why his sister chose this unnerving place to be her sanctuary was beyond him. Perhaps it was the blissful ignorance of a seven year old? Maybe it was the tranquillity of the gardens? Or perhaps if Priestess Sana's suspicions were to be believed, his sister has a connection to the Wyld that is deeper than most wolves. He didn’t really know for sure.

Slowing his pace he entered a clearing where the source of the music came from. There sat a young, crimson coloured wolf in a light purple dress with a head piece, playing a peculiar high-pitched instrument (he once heard her call it an ocarina). Standing next to her was his mother, Queen Scarlett herself, appearing to be proud yet wincing from the young wolf's tune if her ears folding were anything to go by. So preoccupied (and if one would dare say, distracted) was she with his sister's playing that Scarlett didn’t even notice him enter, which was quite unusual.

“How was that Mother?” asked the wolf pup as soon as she finished playing.

Scarlett forced out a grin, her ears unfolding, “That was… certainly an improvement from last time, Lycoris. A mite out of tune, a little too high pitched, but overall an improvement."

His sister gleamed at the praise. “You really think so, Mother?” she asked with excitement, “Wait until you hear this new song I composed.”

Choosing this moment to spare his mother from the ordeal, Ambrose revealed himself. “Ahem!”

The two's ears shot up in surprise.

“Oh, Ambrose! We didn't hear you coming,” said Scarlett, “Why didn't you announce yourself sooner?”

“I did not want to interrupt Lycoris’ rehearsal. You know how she hates interruptions,” replied Ambrose with a hint of mischief.

Lycoris stood up and pouted, “Hey! I am not some snob who cannot tolerate the smallest of incon… incon…”

“Inconvenience, Lycoris,” corrected Ambrose as he grinned.

“Don't put words into my mouth!”

“More to the point,” Scarlett interjected, “do you need something from me Ambrose or did your father send you?”

“Oh, yes. Of course. Father told me to have you prepare for departure by noon. A large fleet of ships were sighted at the coast of Stag’s Landing.”

Scarlett’s eyes widened. “The Expedition?” she asked hopefully.

Ambrose shook his head, “We are not sure, although Father thinks it is an invasion force. He mentioned something about a large fleet and flying fortresses from the report.”

Scarlett paled. “By the Wyld,” she muttered breathlessly before she turned to her son, “Why didn't you say so sooner? Actually no, do not answer that. Come along!”

As Scarlett led her two children out of the maze garden, she halted as she heard one of them speak.

“Mother, what is an invasion?” asked Lycoris, a hint of worry in her expression.

Turning to her daughter, Scarlett replied cautiously, “An invasion, Lycoris, is when a kingdom attacks another one, usually to take what is not theirs to take.”

“You mean like when you tried to take the castle from the Mad King?” asked the wolf pup.

Scarlett winced, “And just where did you get that idea from?”

“Some of my friends in the garden told me,” came her reply, “They said they were very sad that you killed them just as they were trying to run away.”

The hairs on Scarlett’s back prickled as she tried to hide her horror. Ambrose on the other hand could not hide his pale expression on his already albino feature.

‘I know this place is haunted but must she say it like that?’ thought Ambrose, almost losing all decorum as he quickened his pace. He kept an eye on Lycoris, cautiously weary of her unique oddities. He had just realised why Lycoris enjoyed being in the hedge maze garden. As much as he loved his sister he had always felt instinctively unnerved by her. Before he'd always thought that her friends were just imaginary, but as time drew on it became clear on the unsettling nature of her so-called “friends”.

“I see,” said Scarlett nervously, breaking the silence, “Perhaps you could tell those friends of yours that I am sorry for their loss and I will make sure that their next of kin will be well looked after.”

Lycoris smiled gleefully. “They would be happy to know that, Mother!”

They exited the maze (much to Ambrose's relief) where two maids awaited them.

“Annis, Claire,” Scarlett addressed the maids, “prepare my armour, tunic and sword! I want it ready within the hour.”

“At once your Majesty!” they replied immediately before disappearing into the castle.

Turning to her two children, Scarlett ordered, “Ambrose, I am entrusting the capital to you and the Council. Stay here, watch over the Castle and your sister until we return.”

“With all due respect Mother, it is not right that I be excluded from this matter,” protested the prince, “I know that I am not yet of age to fight in a battle, but if by small chance that it is the expedition it is only proper that the member of the Royal Family who saw them off to their voyage be present for their return.”

Scarlett narrowed her eyes in disapproval. “There is a time and a place for etiquette and ceremony Ambrose, and I will not risk my only son and heir to uphold appearances; especially on a potential invasion on our shores.”

“But Mother,” Ambrose tried to protest.

“None of that, Ambrose,” rebuked Scarlett. Her scowl softened as she crouched down to be in her son’s eye level, “I know you want to be there to see the return of my old friend but I need you here to watch over the Kingdom and more importantly, your sister. I need you to prepare the Guard if the worst is to happen, is that understood?”

Ambrose’s head hung low. “I… I understand,” came his disheartened reply. He then looked up to his Mother with some steeled resolve, “I won’t let you down Mother.”

Scarlett smiled at that, “I know you won’t.”

“Mother, is the invasion bad people?” asked Lycoris.

“Invaders, Lycoris,” corrected Scarlett, “And we are not sure if it is an invasion, although it seems likely. And if they are invaders then yes, they might be bad people.”

A cheery smile grew from Lycoris. “I don’t think it’s an invasion then, Mother.”

Scarlett raised an eyebrow. “And why ever not Lycoris?

“Because some of my new friends said that their old friends are coming real soon,” she answered gleefully, “They said that they came a long way to run away from the bad people.”

Scarlett and Ambrose slowly craned their heads towards the wolf princess, their eyes widened in alarm.

“Lycoris, what do these new friends of yours look like?” asked Scarlett, her voice barely containing her increasing anxiety.

“Ummm… They were all sorts; wolves, bears, ponies, rats-”

“Was there a rabbit? A Doe?”

“Th-there were several rabbits… a few does I suppose,” Lycoris stammered, unsettled by Scarlett's change of demeanour, “Mother, is there something wr-”

“Names!” Scarlett cut her off, holding her daughter by the shoulders, “Did they tell you their names?!”

“Mother please, you're scaring her!” pleaded Ambrose, grabbing Scarlett by her arm.

Scarlett blinked. Her pause gave way to realisation as she finally saw the fear in her daughter’s eyes. She realised how tight her grip was on her daughter’s shoulders and noticed the tears forming on her eyes.

The Vixen Queen relaxed her grip on her daughter and cautiously embraced her. “I am sorry Riss,” she apologised, wiping tears off of her daughter’s cheeks, “I was just worried, both for you and a long lost friend. I will explain everything later, but for now please see Priestess Sana as you should have before. We told you to inform her of every new friend you made, remember?”

“Yes Mother,” Lycoris muttered an answer with a nod.

Offering a soft smile, Scarlett ended the embrace, stood up and turned to her son and heir. “Watch over each other and our kingdom,” she said, her expression a mix of fear and determination.

“You can trust me, Mother, all will be well,” nodded Ambrose.

“Finally! What took you so long?!” exclaimed Thane as Scarlett entered the barracks.

She was clad in golden breastplate armour with the Bandit Clan’s crest, a cutlass sheathed on one side of her belt and a flintlock pistol hand cannon holstered on the other.

“I had to make other arrangements,” Scarlett replied tersely. She looked to Thane, deep concern in her eyes.

Noticing this, Thane asked, “What is wrong? Did something happen?”

The vixen pondered a moment for an answer until she finally spoke, “Yes, you could say that. I was just informed of the nature of our would-be invaders. They may not be invaders at all, but possibly a diaspora.”

Thane raised an eyebrow. “I assume it was from one of our Scryers?” he inquired.

Scarlett shook her head. “No, from our daughter,” she replied grimly, “Her new “friends” are implying that the expedition brought them here, that they are fleeing from what I can only assume is the Rot.”

Thane's expression now mirrored his wife, “Then it seems they have failed their mission.”

“Perhaps,” she grimaced, “Or perhaps they may be calling for aid. I know not, but I can only hope it is not the former.”

“Try not to be too disappointed. As you used to say, ‘always prepare for the worst’,” said Thane, trying to reassure her.

Scarlett allowed herself to smile at that. “Oh how young we were when I used to speak such things so easily,” she chuckled wryly, her smile forming into a small worried frown.

Setting their unease aside, Thane turned to their Captain of the Guard, “Captain Horace, are our men assembled?”

“Not all. Roughly a thousand strong have been rallied outside the city gates, including our new artillery corp and arquebusier regiment,” replied the Badger Captain, “We are still waiting for the others which should take us til the afternoon to assemble the-”

“No,” Scarlett interrupted, “A thousand will have to suffice for now. It is a three day march to Stag’s Landing, I want our men to start marching within the hour. We'll gather strength as we go. Tell the remaining Royal Guard to defend the capital and the surrounding duchy. Inform Wardress Elyssia to prepare for our arrival, and send word to the other four clans to raise arms and rally at Valeston.”

Horace saluted, “At once, your Grace!”

“Your chariot awaits you, my Lady!” the head horse harnessed to the carriage called out, his tone jovial and unaware to the urgency of the situation.

“About time Ackerson!” Elyssia retorted as she stuffed a bag of scrolls into the carriage, “I hope you and your company can gallop as fast as your wit.”

“They are faster, my Lady,” came the reply, followed by chuckles from his companions.

Unamused and scowling, the rabbit boarded the carriage with a grumble. “Let us put that to the test then, shall we?” she challenged, poking her head out from a window, “Make for Stag’s Landing, post haste! I need to be there before nightfall.”

Ackerson smirked. “Your wish is my command,” he answered before adding, “Alright lads, let's show her our worth!”

The sudden jolt from the horses threw Elyssia back into her seat, almost colliding with one of her maid servants seated next to her.

“Confounded idiot! At least wait until I am seated!” she yelled, unheard from the deafening roar of galloping hooves. “I swear, these riff-raff are getting bolder with their tongues by the day ever since this new regime took over,” she grumbled to herself as she adjusted her cap.

“Permission to speak boldly, Wardress?” a lynx maid servant blankly asked.

Elyssia craned her head towards the maid, her scowl threatening to grow all the more larger. “What is your name?”

“Cassia, daughter of Lilac of the Bandit Clan,” came her flat reply.

Elyssia's scowl eased to an unamused frown. “I see. That would explain your candid demeanour,” she dryly mused, “Speak.”

“My Lady, this maid servant believes that Mr Ackerson's behaviour is due to having a fancy for you,” she politely answered with a small bow.

The Wardress scoffed with a humourless laugh, “Hah! If that idiot thinks he could curry my favour with his brash disposition he is a fool!”

Cassia nodded in agreement. “Indeed he is, but an honest fool nonetheless. He wears his heart in his sleeves, a genuine heart at that,” she answered bluntly, her expression placid.

Elyssia's scowl returned with a raised eyebrow. “I do not like what you are insinuating, Cassia, daughter of Lilac. Neither do I appreciate you overstepping your station. You are my maid servant, not my matchmaker. Is that clear?”

Cassia simply nodded, “Forgive me, Wardress Elyssia. I was merely offering an observation.”

“Then keep your observations to yourself unless it is a matter of consequence.”

“Yes my Lady.”

There was a moment of silence other than sounds of thundering hooves and the clattering noise of the carriage wheels.

The silence was then disturbed by a loud thumping noise from the roof of the carriage.

“Rot’s blighted puss! What is that racket?!” Elyssia growled irritably.

“I believe it is a carrier pigeon,” came Cassia's flat reply, “I noticed it trailing after us for some time now.”

The rabbit glared at her maid servant. “And you failed to mention this beforehand, why?!” she barked, fuming in frustration.

“This maid servant did not know if it was a matter of consequence,” came the infuriatingly calm reply.

This was too much for the enraged rabbit. “Are you an idiot or are you trying my patience?!”

Cassia pondered the question for a moment before answering just as calmly as before, “I suppose it would be both, my Lady.”

Elyssia inhaled through her nostrils before she unleashed her ire with as much decorum as she could muster, “Is that so, you little upstart? Well then, perhaps three moons of latrine duty and ten moons as my handmaiden should cure that idiocy of yours and teach you proper manners while I am at it? What say you, Cassia, daughter of Lilac?”

“I am not proficient at literacy, my Lady,” came her reply.

At that Elyssia smiled a malicious, toothy grin and almost purred her next words, “Oh rest assured, we shall see to correcting that shortcoming. I shall bestow upon you the wonderful world of writing and bury you with so much parchment and paperwork your paws will be covered with blisters and ink. I shall drill upon you every lesson of proper posse and decorum that is expected of your new station until your bones will act before your mind can proce-”

“My Lady, f-forgive this maid servant for interjecting,” a small chinchilla maid meekly spoke out, “but sh-should we not address the pigeon on the roof?”

All eyes turned back to the ceiling of the carriage. The knocking that was ignored and forgotten for a while now kept persisting but clearly slowing down in rhythm, which implied the tired state of the messenger.

“Oh my,” the Wardress simply stated before she opened the sunroof, which promptly dropped the pigeon in an undignified manner.

The messenger groaned as he straightened up with a salute. “Lady Stonebriar, a message from the capital,” he offered a scroll as he panted, clearly exhausted.

The Wardress took the scroll and unsealed it. Before she read its contents she glanced at the tired pigeon carrier. “How long was your flight, herald?” she asked.

“I lost count,” he replied, “I left at noon.”

Elyssia nodded at that as she turned to the scroll. “Maids, offer the herald some refreshments while I see to this message,” she ordered, her eyes still glued to the parchment.

While the maids treated their guest Elyssia's eyes grew wider as she continued digesting the scroll's content. She tossed the scroll aside, reached for her bags and retrieved a blank parchment, a bottle of ink and a quill.

“Herald, are you well enough to reach Stag’s Landing within an hour or two?” she asked.

“From this distance? I am unsure, Lady Stonebriar,” the pigeon shook his head, “Forgive me but I am exhausted. I may not have the strength to reach the town in time.”

The rabbit breathed out a frustrated sigh from her nostrils and nodded. “Very well, take your rest and I shall dismiss you once we reach the town,” she offered, to which the messenger chirped in gratitude. She then pulled a string connected to a bell in front of the carriage, prompting the horses to stop.

“Ackerson!” she barked, her head protruding out the window, “How soon can you reach Stag’s Landing?”

“We can be there before nightfall as you ordered, my Lady,” he replied.

“Can we make it there within an hour or two?” she asked.

The horse raised an eyebrow. “What’s the rush?”

“There is a crisis at the coast, I need to be there as soon as possible,” she barked in her reply.

Ackerson stuck a hoof on his chin in contemplation. “We could try to cut our way through the forest of Felden Grove,” he suggested, “It’s off the main road but it should cut our travel time in half. Provided we don't run into any trouble.”

‘What does he-? Oh, right. The escaped criminals several weeks ago. They roam this area’ she thought.

“We will have to take that chance. Have us cut through the woods, and if we do run into any trouble I will be more than happy to dispense the Queen's justice with my paws,” she declared, brandishing a large head staff.

Ackerson grinned, “As you command, though I hope you have more than your paws to dispense justice.”

As the carriage entered the woods Elyssia opened a compartment under her seat revealing a small arsenal of blades, magical staffs, crossbows and pistols.

“Choose a weapon,” she ordered, taking an old reliable shortsword, “If there are crooks in the forest, I refuse to have us unprepared.”

“Are we to be expendables to soften these potential criminals for you?” asked Cassia dryly, drawing a crossbow.

Elyssia narrowed her eyes. “Mind that tongue of yours, daughter of Lilac,” she snapped, “You are not the one holding a sword. I may not be much of a warrior but make no mistake, I had my fair share of experience during the war against the Mad King and the Rot War.”

Cassia blinked slowly before offering an apologetic bow, “Forgive me, my Lady. It was unjust for me to question your motives.”

Elyssia grunted in satisfaction before passing a hand cannon to the messenger.

“W-wait, you want me to fight too?” the pigeon sputtered in disbelief.

“Considering the likelihood of an ambush and the risk to our lives, yes it is to be expected,” said Elyssia.

“B-b-but Lady Stonebriar, I am no warrior! Not a soldier or even an adventurer. I am but a mere messenger,” he protested in fear as he dropped the weapon on the floor.

The rabbit stared at the pigeon in the eyes, her face threatening to return to a scowl. “What is your name herald?” she ordered.

“G-Gyer of House P-Peck, my Lady,” came the reply.

Elyssia raised an eyebrow. “House Peck? Is this an attempt at a jest or do you take me for a fool?” she snapped.

“N-neither my Lady! It is one of the new houses offered to us by the Queen for our services during the Rot War. We and our sister house of Swift were welcomed to the ranks of the Rabbit Clan and the Rat Clan respectively,” Gyer replied.

Elyssia's expression quirked from one of incredulity to one of bemusement. “Rather creative names for houses, wouldn't you agree, Gyre of House Peck?” she stated sarcastically.

The pigeon blushed from embarrassment as he rubbed the back of his head with a wing, “Us pigeons are not one for glamorous names and titles I admit, and the Queen did find it hilariously amusing.”

‘Clearly’ she thought as the image of the Vixen Queen laughing on the floor after handing their titles came to mind.

“Ahem, history aside,” started Elyssia, “Gyre of House… Peck, to whom do you serve?”

“Her majesty Queen Scarlett, my Lady,” he replied.

“Then as a servant to the crown, if your Queen is in peril would you not lay down your life to rescue her?”

“Y-yes my Lady! If there were no one else, I-I would gladly risk life and wing to come to the Queen’s aid!”

“And why would you do so?”

“I… My House serves not for glory, prestige, honour or wealth, BUT FOR DUTY! If this lowly servant’s life is needed to be given to save our Queen, then I would gladly offer it as demanded by my station!”

“Well then,” she picked up the hand cannon and shoved it into Gyre’s wings, “this is your chance to prove your commitment to your duty.”

The carrier pigeon gawked, “L-Lady Stonebriar?”

“I will not ask you to do something I would not. All I ask is that when the time comes, you will do what is expected of you and your station. Do I make myself clear?”

“Y-yes my Lady!” saluted Gyre.

“Very good,” she nodded in approval before turning to address her maids, “That goes with the rest of you. I know that is not what is expected of your station, but if you value your lives then I expect you all to fight for them when the time comes. Is that understood?”

A round of acknowledgements came from the maid servants.

“Good. Now, I need everyone to keep an eye out for-”

“Milady Stonebriar,” Ackerson's obnoxiously cheery bellow interrupted her, “we have safely exited Felden Grove! We will now be arriving at Stag’s Landing within the hour!”

Silence.

“My Lady? Wardress Elyssia?”

Still silence. Unknown to the carriage master Elyssia was fuming, from shattered pride, well masked embarrassment and compiled frustration throughout the day. The messenger and the maids watched with anxious anticipation of the Wardress’ slowly spewing fury.

All but one.

“Well, that was anticlimactic. I would have thought that after all that build up and your inspiring speech, we would actually encounter some criminals.”

“CASSIA, I SWEAR TO THE WYLD, ONE MORE INSOLENT UTTERANCE FROM YOU AND I WILL MAKE YOU WISH YOU BORN A DEAF-MUTE!”

“Wardress of the Warrens, you came sooner than expecte- oh..”

Commander Caspian of House Redwood took one good look at his liege and immediately noticed the sour look on her face. Upon entering his office he found her thumping a foot on the stone floor and a fuming scowl that barely contained fury or smouldering irritation.

Choosing to avert his liege’s ire, Caspian cleared his throat, “The entire coast is surrounded by the armada and we have tallied at least three hundred ships of various sizes, probably more, not including the flying fortresses of clouds. So far, they kept their distance of at least two leagues from the harbour, save one bearing our colours. We signalled the ship to halt and ordered the bombards ready to open fire. Thankfully they complied and were anchored three yards from the harbour. I was just about to order our fastest ship to board them until you arrived.”

Elyssia hummed in thought, “Have you tried scrying the ship?”

Caspian shook his head, “Wardress, this is a coastal garrison. There are no priests of the Wyld within our ranks and any spell casters among us are not proficient enough to cast such spells.”

“It doesn’t take much magic to cast a scrying spell, you just need time to prepare it.”

All eyes turned to Cassia who stood outside the door.

“I'm sorry, who are you?” asked Caspian, glaring at her suspiciously.

“That would be my new handmaid,” Elyssia answered for her with a grumble.

Caspian blinked and then nodded in understanding, “I see, another victim of disciplinary action then.”

Elyssia's lopped ears twitched upwards. “I beg your pardon, Commander?”

Caspian once again cleared his throat, “With all due respect, my Lady, you have a habit of offering the position of Handmaiden as a form of punishment for any unfortunate maid servant who incurred your ire. I still recall the last one, the poor thing. I still have no idea how you managed to terrify that honey badger.”

“If I wanted to reminisce, Commander, I would have called for a Bard. Now tell me, do we have a solution!”

He sighed, “We do. More specifically, we have options. We can commence boarding the leading ship to assess the situation, we could wait until nightfall to have someone prepare a scrying spell, or we can just bombard these interlopers and hold out until the main force arrives.”

Elyssia shook her head, “Bombarding them is out of the question. I have information from the capital that these may not be invaders, although I have my doubts on its reliability. That said, attacking them unprovoked could offer them justification to declare war on us and the Queen will have my hide on a wall if we choose to start it.”

“Then that leaves us with two options, both with their own risks and advantages. Boarding them would be the prudent and diplomatic thing to do, but if our worst fears are correct…”

“Then the crew may become hostages, or worse,” finished Elyssia.

Caspian nodded, “On the other paw, if we wait for the moonrise for the preparation of a scrying spell, the foreigners might lose their patience and decide they could no longer wait.”

“What about just sending a messenger to them?”

All eyes turned to Gyre who looked suddenly nervous from the attention. “I-I was just w-w-wondering why not just send a-a carrier pigeon to send a message?” he stuttered nervously.

Elyssia and Caspian exchanged a look before turning back to the carrier pigeon. “Thank you for volunteering, Gyre of House Peck.”

“Ehh?”

“Me and my big beak, why did I say that?!”

The lone pigeon cursed himself as he flew towards the anchored ship, a scroll parchment clutched in his talons.

“I might as well strap a burning stick to my talon. At least I can die honourably stupid than to potentially die for delivering a message,” he grumbled before he scolded himself, “Craven fool, this is the only way forward! Feel no pity for thyself, know only duty! Just get on board, deliver the message and be on your way. A simple task, even a half-witted Dodo could- Aaaaagh!”

His ministrations were interrupted as he collided with a grey blur and fell on the deck of the ship. As his vision returned, he was suddenly greeted by the most unusual pair of golden eyes he ever saw. They were unusually large and seemed to be staring in opposite directions, like one of those flounders sold by the fishmongers.

“Oh, so sorry Mr Bird. I didn't mean to bump into you like that,” came an unusually disarming, sweet sounding voice coming from the eyes staring (somewhat) at him.

“No, it was no fault of yours,” said Gyre as he straightened himself up, “I should have paid more attention to my task. I let my mind wander o-”

His mind halted as he beheld the creature before him. It was unlike anything he had seen before; it looked like a horse, but not a horse. It stood on all fours, just a head taller than himself, a grey coat, blonde mane and tail, a short and rounded muzzle that was almost dog-like in shape yet had the face of a horse, and yet stranger still was a pair of feathered wings behind its back. WINGS!

“By the Great Oak's Bark, what are you?!”

The… thing grinned. Grinned. Almost cat-like in manner.

“I'm a pegasus, silly,” it said, “My name's Ditsy Do, though most ponies call me Derpy, don't know why. What's your name?”

After a few false starts he finally spoke, “I-I am Gyre of House Peck, R-royal messenger for the Queen of Armello. Are you the captain of this ship, or perhaps a member of your people's delegation?”

The ‘pegasus’’ large eyes grew even wider in awe. “You're a mailmare too?! Well, not actually a mare ‘cause you're not a pony or a female, but still close enough. Also no, I'm not the captain or any of that other fancy word you said. I'm just a mailmare.”

Gyre stood there dumbfounded. He shook himself off before he started again, “If that is the case, where can I find one of sufficient rank? I have a message from the commander of the garrison and the Wardress of the Warrens.”

“Oh, you can just give it to me and I will deliver it for you,” chirped Ditsy, “Spike and the others are a little out of it due to sea sickness.”

Gyre hesitated as he considered the offer but in the end chose his duty over his safety, if just to avoid the Wardress’ wrath for shirking said duty.

“I am sorry Miss but it would be most improper if I do not deliver it personally,” he said with a short bow, “As a Royal messenger it is my duty to ensure that my liege’s message is received by the appropriate party, less they fall into the wrong paws.”

“Oooooooh,” she cooed with awe before returning to her bubbly personality and shrugged, “Okay, follow me then!”

Gyre was taken aback. He anticipated the usual bravado of stubborn personal servants who would insist on taking his duty from him as a show of superiority as a subtle challenge to their liege (which are not uncommon between servants of differing noble houses and rarely but not unheard of against servants to the crown). This Ditsy Do didn’t seem to care about such social power plays. If anything she seemed amused and all too happy to oblige.

Deciding not to ponder, Gyre followed her into the innards of the ship. As he did so he recognised several Armellians going about their duty alongside similar creatures that this Ditsy Do was, and yet very different. For starters, each and every one of them are vibrantly coloured from their mane to their tails. like waking paintings of an artist’s masterpiece. Another thing of note were the different images on each of their flanks, several appear similar yet all are different. And finally, while they generally have a similar body structure, all have three distinct differences; those with wings like Ms Ditsy, those with horns and (to his relief of normalcy) those without either.

One thing was clear though, everyone he saw onboard (with the obvious exceptions) had a gaunt look about them.

As they finally reached what he assumed to be the door to the Captain’s quarters he heard muffled voices from the other side which he assumed was a discussion between officers of sorts happening within. All voices halted after Ditsy gave three knocks to the door with her hoof.

“Who is it?” came a gruff yet young muffled voice from the room.

“It’s me Spike,” answered Ditsy, “I'm here with a royal messenger from Armello.”

“Oh thank the Wyld!” a feminine voice spoke out, “I was beginning to wonder if they would bombard us. Let them in.”

“You can come in Derpy,” said the first voice.

Ditsy grinned cheerily at that and Gyre thought he heard a squeaking noise as she did. The door creaked open as the two entered.

Almost immediately Gyre was assaulted by the smell of burning coal and brimstone and fanned his wings in an attempt to clear out the stench.

“Sorry about the smell,” said the first voice, clearer now and from one side of the room unseen from the door, “I'm not used to sailing at sea, so I'm kind of a mess right now.”

If it were not for the putrid air Gyre might have sighed in relief. Tensions were already high as it was, and if this leader of theirs is as diplomatic as he is forthright with his subjects then perhaps this was no invasion force at all.

“Pay no heed, your Lordship. I am merely a servant to the crown, here to deliver a message from the Wardress of the War-”

All his thoughts died as he beheld the visage of the largest reptile he had ever seen. It was thickly scaled with purple and green, not of sickly colours but of vibrant and shimmering ones. Spikes lined from the crown of its head down to its back to his tail. What caught him most of all were the wide, leathery wings behind its arms and what appeared to be small whiffs of smoke coming out of its nostrils.

A low rumbling noise was heard from the creature’s stomach and suddenly it belched a small gout of flame with a guttural noise.

“Sorry about that,” the thing rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed from the casual display of its power, “That was the effect of some potion I took to fix my sea sickness. I guess it didn't factor in a dragon's fire breath.”

Gyre fainted.

“Congratulations, Lord Regent, you terrified him out of his wits.”

“Hey now, how was I supposed to know he'd react like that?!”

“To be fair Uncle Spike, belching out fire wasn't exactly a good first impression.”

“Cut me some slack Flurry, I wasn't built for sailing.”

“Forget impressions, what in Tartarus are we going to do now?! The longer this oversized talking bird stays unconscious the more they'll think we've eaten him!”

“Commander Pharynx is right. Knowing Elyssia, she will not hesitate to sink us to the bottom of the bay the moment she suspects hostile intent.”

“She… She wouldn't do that on a hunch, would she?”

“(Sigh.) Experience, dawning fear and paranoia will most definitely coax her to do so, Captain Sweetie Belle.”

“Then we can't just sit here and wait for the worst to happen!”

“Then what do you suggest, Lieutenant Scootaloo?”

“I don't know, maybe something that doesn't involve us being sitting ducks?!”

“Um, why don't we just apologise?”

…

“Nephew, while I appreciate you trying to contribute, it's not that simple.”

“Why not, Uncle Pharynx? Dad used to say when you do something wrong you apologise.”

…

The kid’s right, we need to send a messenger of our own.”

“No ‘fense Spike, but how in the hay are you gonna dragonfire a message to ‘em?”

“I never said anything about dragonfire.”

“If you are suggesting we send our own messenger, Lord Regent, they would have to be swift enough to avoid archer fire and have muted colours to appear less noticeable. Unfortunately, just about everyone with wings is working to the bone maintaining your floating cities.”

“I could do it.”

…

“I could deliver the message. I may not be as fast as Rainbow Dash but my coat isn't too colourful.”

…

“She is an unpredictable flyer.”

“She would confuse the archers.”

“But isn't she a klutz?”

“Only on Fridays.”

“Everypony else is busy.”

“Not to offend but I have seen her fly before, and her skills are less than assuring. Are you all sure this is wise?”

“To be perfectly honest, she is currently our best bet.”

…

“(Sigh.) Very well, but I insist on being the one to transcribe it. At the very least they should know it is from me.”

“It has been almost an hour! What is taking that confounded bird so long?!”

Elyssia paced around the commander's office, barely containing her instinct to gnaw her teeth.

“You do not suppose something happened on board, do you?” asked Caspian, sharing her sentiments.

Her pacing finally stopped as she thumped a leg on the stone floor. “We might have to assume the worst,” she muttered before addressing the stag, “Commander, order the batteries to prepare to bombard-”

“INCOMING!”

A window shattered into pieces as something burst through, rolled across the room and collided onto a wall.

“BANE'S BEAK! What was that?!” the Wardress yelled, drawing out her shortsword before beholding the projectile.

Her fury was quelled the moment she noticed a grey winged pony, on her back and her large eyes visibly spinning.

“Whooooo puuuut that windoooow therre?” the creature spoke, disoriented.

Elyssia gawked, “What by the Wyld is that?”

The room's door slammed open as three guards burst into the room.

“Lord Commander, are you alright?!” asked one of the guards.

“Guardsmen, where are the sentries?!” Caspian roared, “I want to know why we are not hearing the alarms raised!”

“Y-yes Lord Commander!” one quickly saluted before rushing out the room and shouted, “Raise the alarm! We have an intruder!”

A groan was heard. All eyes turned to said intruder as she casually stood up and smiled. “Hello. Are you the one in charge? I’m Ditsy-”

All weapons were drawn and pointed at the mare.

“... Do?” she squeaked, her smile becoming nervous from the semi-circle of pointed weapons.

“Why are you here, intruder?” Elyssia growled.

Cautiously, the mare opened a saddlebag, reached inside with her mouth and pulled out a sealed envelope... and a muffin.

“Message and Muffin?”

Author's Note

New Player Characters:

Ambrose: The Beloved Prince
Clan: Bandit
Affinity: Day
Fight: 4
Body: 5
Wit: 6
Spirit: 2
Hero Ability; Master of Mischief: Every Trickery Card played gains prestige.

Lycoris: The Haunted Princess
Clan: Wolf
Affinity: Night
Fight: 3
Body: 5
Wit: 3
Spirit: 6
Hero Ability; Ghost Whisperer: Every fallen unit gains scouts on tile until the next turn.

Caspian: Garrison Commander
Clan: Rabbit (I know he isn't a rabbit but any creature can join either of the five clans)
Affinity: Day
Fight: 5
Body: 5
Wit: 4
Spirit: 2
Hero Ability; Stalwart: Whether he wins or loses a battle, Caspian will force his opponents to move from the tile when he attacks and will remain unmoved from his tile when he defends.

Elyssia gained three followers (not in game, just fan creations):
Carriage Master: Gain one additional movement.
Blunt Handmaid: Prestige gain and loss are doubled.
Messenger: Gain a scout for every town under your control.

Chapter 2: Royals and Refugees

“Ship approaching the harbour!”

All eyes watched in anticipation as the lead ship made anchor in the harbour pier and cast lines to dock. Elyssia, Caspian and their subordinates and retainers stood at the mouth of the pier, waiting for their long awaited guest to present.

“Wardress, you are thumping your foot again,” whispered Caspian.

“I cannot help it,” she whispered back, “part of me still suspects that this may be a ploy, no matter how benign this Ditsy Do may be.”

“Then why humour them?” he asked.

Elyssia sighed as her foot thumping ceased, “Because it was her handwriting. I recognise it anywhere.” A ghost of a smile formed from her scowl, “I fear the worst, but I am gladdened she lives.”

A boarding plank bridged the ship and the pier and a procession crossed, leaving the vessel. They were a mix of equines, reptiles, large insect-like creatures, a cross of bird and mammalian things, and more. Leading them was a familiar rabbit donned in an amber and black dress and held an iconic silk umbrella.

There was a gleam in Elyssia’s eyes when she saw the rabbit and allowed herself to smile. Her smile vanished however as she noticed the doe before her limped forward, using the umbrella as a makeshift walking stick. It was then she noticed the cast on her left leg and three large scars on the left side of her cheek. As they drew closer, the Wardress scowled when she noticed that her left paw holding the umbrella did not look natural. Her heart sank further when she noticed the gaunt, haunted expression on the doe.

By the Wyld, what happened to her?

When the group finally reached them, the lead rabbit quivered a smile but the smile appeared despondent.

“Elyssia,” she greeted with a curtsy.

“Amber of House Valebriar; Far Seeker,” the Wardress returned the greeting. “You have returned, mostly intact it seems,” she gestured to her wounds.

Amber took a moment to glance at her leg and paw. “So it would seem,” she answered morosely.

Elyssia hummed as she mulled the information. “Hmm. I take it then from that gaunt look on you, the lack of the traitor and this… odd company you brought with you that the expedition ended in failure?”

Growls, snarls, and a few hisses were heard from the procession behind Amber. (Elyssia even thought she saw a few gouts of flame from some of the reptiles.) Amber herself flinched slightly as her paws clenched tightly.

“Aye,” she muttered.

The Wardress blinked, frowned, shut her eyes as she drew out a sigh, and then straightened up (all in that order).

“I see,” she said in acknowledgement before offering a smile, “Welcome home, cousin.”

And just like that the floodgates tore down as Amber burst into tears, leapt towards Elyssia, and embraced her.

Caught off guard, Elyssia almost drew her weapon until she heard the Adventurer’s pained wailing as she felt her embrace. Her fur stood on her back as she stiffened, and shuddered as she felt the crowd gaze at the scandalous display of discarded decorum.

“By the Wyld, Amber!” Elyssia hissed through her teeth, “You are a distinguished Dame of the Rabbit Clan! Show some dignity and cease this unsightly blubbering!”

“Shut up, Elyssia!” Amber sobbed, tightening her hug, “I need this. It was terrible! It was horrid! It was a slaughter!”

Wyld preserve! Why must I be tested so thoroughly this day? Can not part of these burdens wait on the morrow?! Elyssia thought as she rolled her eyes and begrudgingly accepted the embrace…

…For about three minutes until she heard coos of sympathy from the crowd and decided that was enough.

“Cousin, please,” she politely pushed, breaking the embrace, “save your tale and your tears for the Queen. You've humiliated me long enough.”

“Lady Elyssia, how cold of you,” Cassia deadpanned, wearing a barely visible smirk of smug satisfaction.

“I do not want to hear that from you, daughter of Lilac!” she snapped.

A chuckle escaped from Amber as she wiped the tears from her eyes, “I am glad to see you haven't changed.”

“And I am agasp at how much you have,” Elyssia huffed, “You have always been forthright and plucky compared to your peers, but seeing you as devastated as you are now… I have never seen you grieve this much, even with your last meeting with the Queen.”

“Speaking of, where is she?”

“On her way here on a three day march.”

Amber chuckled again, “If you send word of my return I'm sure the march will hasten by two days.”

Elyssia pondered at the thought. “Hmm, that would be worth considering.”

“Ahem,” a voice from behind Amber coughed.

“Oh goodness me, where are my manners?” Amber apologised as she introduced the purple reptile behind her, “Wardress Elyssia Stonebriar of the Rabbit Clan, meet Spike the Dragon; Lord Regent of Equestria.”

“How'dya do?” the winged lizard saluted, “Call me Spike.”

“A DRAGON?!” Elyssia yelped as the entire garrison pointed their weapons at the group.

“Woah, just hold on there!” Spike disarmingly raised his arms slightly, “I know you think I'm what you suspect me to be, but I'd rather you didn't associate me with the villains who destroyed my home and murdered most of my friends and family.”

Elyssia eyed the nervous garrison around her and back to the Dragon. Her scowl hardened as she tried to discern his intentions… until she noticed one of those bird-mammalian things clutching him tightly, worry and fear seen in its eyes.

Is that supposed to be his mate?

“Stand down,” Elyssia ordered with a sigh.

“My Lady, is that wise?” Commander Caspian objected.

“Fret not, Lord Commander,” she placated, “I know the Dragon Clan; they are arrogant and conniving cretins who would never show weakness to their opponents, much less helplessness. I see none of that here, stand our men down.”

“Yes my Lady,” the stag obeyed and signalled his soldiers.

“Apologies, your grace,” Elyssia bowed politely to Spike, “I do not know of the plight of your people, however I cannot help but notice that you came with a mighty fleet too great to be for a diplomatic mission. Judging from appearances and if my suspicions are correct, I take it you and your people fled from a threat that we share in common?”

Spike sadly nodded, wrapping an arm around the grey, bird-mammal, “Yeah, that about sums it up. I could give you the rough summary, but I think it would be better to tell the details to your Queen. More importantly, we have been sailing for months across the ocean and we would greatly appreciate any help you can give us, starting with your permission for our ships to dock and land.”

Elyssia nodded in agreement, “Very well, you have my permission to land on our shores and shall receive whatever aid we can offer. In fact, it just so happens that our granaries and storehouses are full to the brim with this week's harvest; they should be sufficient enough for your needs.”

Spike offered a bow, “Thank you Lady Stonebriar. I'll inform-”

“However,” Elyssia interrupted, clutching her sheathed short sword, “If you betray my trust, know that I will show no mercy and give no quarter to you and your kin, no matter how out numbered we are. Is that understood?”

Spike narrowed his eyes to her threat. “So long as none of my little ponies are harmed or threatened, you have my word; there will be no trouble.”

She studied his scowl before nodding, “Agreed then. For the time being until the Queen arrives to offer you a proper welcome, I shall leave you to tend to your people. Good night, your grace.”

“Lord Regent, I apologise on her behalf. She is not usually this… intense.”

“Amber, it's fine. And I told you before, just call me Spike.”

“Not while we are here in public. You are now your ponies’ de facto leader. Therefore you must make proper for appearances, else they sense weakness.”

“Thanks Amber. And don't worry about your cousin, I've had worse welcomes.

Captain Gallus, inform the High Council and the Alliance Council. Let them know what is going on.”

“Roger that Spike.”

“Y'know Spikey, I thought you were going to burn her for that threat.”

“(Sigh) So was I, Gabs. So was I.”

“Scarlett, why the rush?”

Thane was bewildered by his wife's reaction to a message that evening. Upon receiving it she almost immediately issued orders to continue the march first thing at dawn and double time it.

In response to his question, Scarlett tossed the scroll towards him as she ordered her servants to pitch the tent light.

Annoyed but choosing to ignore her attitude, he reviewed the scroll's contents and gawked. “She's-”

“Alive, yes,” Scarlett finished for him, “And the expedition brought a diaspora of thousands, led by a dragon. A genuine, fire-breathing Dragon!”

Thane lowered the letter down, his mind reeling from the news. “I never thought such a creature could exist,” he finally spoke, “which makes it all the more ironic with the implications.”

“And the dragon is but a tip of the blade,” added Scarlett, “read the rest.”

Thane raised the message up and continued reading, his eyes widening as he progressed through the letter. “Pegasi? Unicorns? GRIFFONS?! Has the wine gone through Elyssia's head or has she finally lost her mind?!”

“It matters little,” replied Scarlett, “the heart of the matter is that the expedition returned, and with ill news.”

Thane raised an eyebrow as he studied his wife.”I know that look,” he said, “you want to see her for yourself.”

She turned to her husband, guilt written in her eyes, “I cannot help it! You saw how we parted last! She kept us in the dark for years, only to return with that traitor!” She stopped her tirade and sighed exacerbated, “And I betrayed our friendship for that. I betrayed my sister in all but blood. All in the name of duty as Queen.”

Before a sob threatened to escape her she was suddenly embraced by Thane.

“I understand completely,” he said, “Let us take leave together before dawn on the morrow.”

Scarlett’s ears perked up, “Just us?”

“We are in a rush, are we not?”

“B-but what of the army? We cannot just leave them here.”

“They will follow shortly behind us. Besides, they will have Horace to lead them. You know him better than I. He is a good man, he will lead them well.”

Scarlett smiled morosely, “On our own, just like old times.” Her smile disappeared into a somber grimace as she added, “What I would give to return to such a time. Back when it was just us against the world.”

An eyebrow raised from Thane with bemusement, “Was that how you remembered it? As I recalled, you made everyone's lives difficult with your moments of mischief and mayhem, my life especially.”

Scarlett snorted a laugh, “I couldn't help it. You were just so easy to provoke, and dare I say, adorable when you pout.”

“I resent that!” he pouted with a growl, to which she could only giggle.

“Think it wise to move ahead of our forces?”

That following morning, Horace stood at attention before their tent. From his tone he was less than impressed by their plan the previous night.

“My mind is made up, Horace,” said Scarlett as she readied a knapsack, “The news we received demands haste and three days will not do. Better we meet these outsiders as soon as possible to receive a Royal welcome before ill impressions of us linger.”

“With all due respect my Queen, it is no secret that her majesty has more concern to see Dame Amber than some thousand foreigners,” stated Horace, crossing his arms.

“Speaking in third person, Horace?” jeered Thane as he stood beside them, “I didn’t expect you to be that adamant of us going ahead.”

“And I didn’t expect you to be reckless,” shot back the badger, “One would have thought to have learned after all these years in the throne to disregard personal feelings over duty.”

“I have already done so seven years ago,” scowled Scarlett, “I banished my last sister in all but blood for duty. Not a day has passed since have I been spared the torture of knowing that might have been the last we saw of each other. Not a night spared of my tears full of regret. So for the sake of our friendship Horace, do not get in my way.”

Horace shook his head, “I do not object to you going ahead. I simply object to you leaving me behind. Or without an escort.”

Scarlett offered a small smile, “Believe me Horace, I would like nothing else than to take you with us, but we need you to lead our men in our stead. They trust you and will follow your orders as though they were our own.”

Horace sighed, “Very well. Then at the very least take an escort of ten of our best men with you. It is ill suited that a Queen and her Consort travel alone even in these peaceful times. We mustn’t give the impression that the Royal Family travels unguarded, an easy prey for robbers and opportunistic assassins.”

“Hah! The Bandit King assailed by Highway robbers? Imagine the Irony,” she guffawed.

Horace scowled at her jest before turning to Thane, “You will look after each other?”

Thane snorted, “Not a day without a headache since our wedding have I shirked that duty. She could hardly spare me a moment of relief from her mischief.”

“Why I never Thane, am I so horrid a creature in your eyes?” gasped Scarlett, feigning offence.

The wolf grinned at his wife, “Need I remind you of your attraction to mayhem whenever we travel together? I still haven’t forgotten the coffin on the river incident.”

Scarlett pouted, “You are never going to live that down, are you?”

Horace barked out a laugh. “Oh how I have missed this sight,” he breathed in a jovial sigh, “Here I thought we are getting too old for such childishness. It is almost a relief to see some of the old times here.”

Scarlett gave a scoff before her expression softened to her captain, “Wyld guide you swiftly, old friend.”

“And may the Wyld grant you two safe passage,” he bowed in response.

And without fanfare, they boarded a carriage and left.

It was late in the afternoon, a little before sunset when Stag’s Landing came to view, and little could prepare them for the sight. Tents as far as the eye could see were spread across the beach and meadows. Several ships of all shapes and sizes docked in the harbour, with hundreds more beached on the shore. Creatures never seen before roamed, rested and flew across the area. Most striking of all was the looming visage of city-like structures atop of clouds that floated over the town and its surroundings, blocking the setting sun from view.

“Bane's beak,” cursed Scarlett as she gawked, completely stunned.

“I'll say,” added Thane, “I never seen so much in a port before, much less a town.”

The carriage suddenly halted.

“Carriage Master, what is the hold up?” demanded Scarlett from her window.

“Apologies my liege, but we are being halted,” came the reply.

She protruded out of the window and saw that the roads were also crowded with guards, passersby and more of the newcomers.

Groaning, Scarlett opened the carriage door and stepped out, the guards who halted approached as she did.

“Halt! In the name of the Quee…,” they stopped as she revealed herself before them. “Your Majesty!” one of the guards exclaimed as they both bent the knee and bowed.

Slowly a crowd began to form around them. Several Armellians joined, kneeling whilst others offered cheers and praise. The outsiders who were curious gathered to see what the fuss was about.

“Rise, people of Stag’s Landing!” declared Scarlett, “We have come.”

More cheers came as kits, pups and hatchlings ran towards her. Scarlett in turn knelt to offer them hugs, kisses and nuzzled.

“Wait, that's the Queen of Armello?”

“No way. I thought she was supposed to be larger, and more regal.”

“I mean, she's no Celestia but is kinda cute.”

“Eeyup. She's smaller than my little filly.”

“Braeburn, every foal is smaller than your filly.”

“She seems kind of nice. I can taste the love coming from her and her subjects. It's really sweet.”

“Does that mean she's a softy then?”

“I certainly hope so for our sakes.”

Scarlett almost winced at the chatter amongst the outsiders through her sharp ears.

“Make way! In the name of the Queen, make way!”

All eyes turned to a large male deer, donned in plate armour and bore the sigil of the Rabbit Clan. Following him was a contingent of guards pouring from the town's gates. The crowd slowly gave way, clearing a path.

“Your Majesties Queen Scarlett and Prince consort Thane, I am Garrison Commander Caspian of House Redwood. Welcome to Stag’s Landing,” he said with a bow, “On behalf of the town, I apologise for the poor reception to your arrival but as you can see, all have been occupied with the matter at hand.”

“Do not apologise for choosing duty over ceremony, Commander,” said Scarlett, gesturing to him to rise, “Just take us to see Lady Elyssia and our honoured guests.”

Caspian rose up and saluted, “Of course, right this way, your Highnesses.”

Choosing to be escorted on foot they marched into the town's gates. Curious crowds quickly became cheering parades as they continued further into the town. Stalls of produce offered their goods to the passing entourage. Adjacent homes threw petals of flowers from their windows. Bards, minstrels and street performers sang praises of long past victories. And not a street nor alley they passed wasn’t without a chorus of, “Long live the Queen!” or, “Welcome back, oh Queen!”

“Are you sure you didn't prepare for our arrival?” asked Scarlett to Caspian with bemusement.

“None of this was planned, your Highness,” answered Caspian, “And even if we had planned for it, it would have taken a month to prepare, especially with all the hubbub of the outsiders.

“All you see before you is a testament of how much you meant to the people of Stag’s Landing, especially after you liberated them from the Butcher Baroness.”

“Oh yes, I remember that,” Scarlett smiled fondly, “Good times.”

Thane raised an eyebrow, “I thought she escaped your justice, only to be found dead after an unlucky lightning bolt struck her carriage.”

“An act of the Wyld, I'm sure,” Scarlett smirked cruelly.

Her mirth faded within her as they approached the town hall. Though not visible her fist clenched tightly as nerves threatened to fail her. Her heart pounded in dread of what awaited her within. All feelings froze for a second when she felt a warm paw on her shoulder.

“Do you need a moment?” came the warm voice of Thane.

Scarlett would have melted into his embrace if she could but she dared not to, not right now.

“No, not at the moment,” she breathed out before turning to her husband, “Although, I am in need of your strength.”

Thane released her shoulder only to clutch her clenched paw, loosening its grip. “As always, you shall have it,” he whispered, smiling warmly.

Taking a deep breath, they opened the doors and entered.

A short while later they finally entered the town hall's meeting room where they were greeted with a most peculiar sight. Amongst the handful of Armellians (mostly maid servants, pages and squires), most of the occupants were several of the equine creatures they've seen across the harbour town, though with a few exceptions, all of which were seated around a large table.

On one side furthest from the entrance seated Elyssia, a maid servant and a deer which judging from his attire was the town's mayor. Across them were the outsiders with one notable exception.

“Announcing her majesty, Queen Scarlett of Armello! The Chainbreaker, The Great Liberator, Hero of the People, Chosen of the Wyld, Scourge of the Rot, and Kingslayer!” heralded Caspian, “And her husband, Prince-consort Thane! Commander in Chief of Armello, Blademaster, Avenger of the innocent, Baneslayer, and Wyld reborn!”

Eyebrows raised and voices who were once speaking loudly in discussion ceased or fell into whispered mutterings.

Elyssia stood from her seat and bowed. “Welcome to Stag’s Landing, your Majesties,” she greeted before gesturing to the deer beside her, “this is Mayor Shilo Tinders,” to which he bowed, “and returning to us as you know, Dame Amber of House Valebriar,” she directed across from her.

Scarlett’s heart sank as she bore witness to the scarred form of Amber, particularly at her visibly mechanical left paw and gash on her face.

Before Scarlett could say anything, Amber stood up and bowed. “Your Highnesses, I have returned,” she spoke robotically.

The Queen felt a pang inside from the cold tone but said nothing.

“Allow me to introduce our guests,” Amber continued, pointing to the purple and green winged reptile, “This is Spike the Dragon; Lord Regent of Equestria. The Brave and Glorious Hero of the Crystal Empire, Vanquisher of the tyrant King Sombra, One time Dragon Lord before abdication, Peacemaker, Traveller of Two Worlds, Hero of Time, First Friend of the Changelings, Chief Adviser of the late Princess Twilight Sparkle, Friend of the Element Bearers, Custodian of the Elements of Harmony, Custodian of the Tree of Harmony, Baneslayer, and Head of the Equestrian Alliance.”

She gestures to the grey bird-mammal next to him, “And his wife, Gabby of Griffonstone. Chief of Communications and Equestrian Ambassador of Neo-Griffonia.”

Then gestures to a young, white-coated equine with a horn and wings, “This is Princess Flurry Heart. Ruler of the Crystal Ponies, Daughter of the late Princess Mi Amore Cadenza and the late Prince consort Shining Armour, Heir to the throne of Equestria, Bearer and Custodian of the Crystal Heart, Adopted niece and ward of Spike the Dragon, The first born Alicorn and The Last of the Five Alicorn Princesses.”

She looks no older than Ambrose, thought Thane.

“Commander Spitfire, Ex-Commander of The Wonderbolts. Leader and Warden of the Remnants of Cloudsdale, the last floating city. Saviour of the Evacuation of Western Equestria.”

A golden-coated winged equine in a blue dress uniform saluted, a scowl hidden behind her large aviator glasses.

“Queen Skystar, ruler of Seaquestria and Mount Aris. Daughter and successor of the late Queen Novo, Custodian of the Pearl of Transformation, Hero of the War of Storms, and Song Mage of Novo's Collage of Bardic Magic.”

A bright yellow bird-mammal of the horse variety offered a short bow. Her expression, calm but barely contained nervousness.

Perhaps very new to her position.

“Gilda of Griffonstone, Vice Chancellor of Neo-Griffonia. Friend of the late Element Bearer of Loyalty Rainbow Dash, Warden of the Wall, and Saviour of the Evacuation of Eastern Equestria.”

Another bird-mammal of the cat-like variety growled quietly. Her glare piercing and intense despite wearing an eye patch over her scarred left eye.

“Princess Yona of Yakyakistan, ruler of the Yaks. Soul survivor of the Yak royal family, second niece of the late Prince Rutherford, Earth Pounder, Rot Crusher, Mercy Giver, Saviour of the Evacuation of Yakyakistan, The Crystal Empire and Northern Equestria, and New Bearer of the Element of Kindness.”

A small thud shook the room from the Yak. Despite the show of strength, her bloodshot eyes were devoid of any bravado and showed signs of dried tears. Scarlett finally took notice of the black shawl over most of her back.

A widow's shawl? Or was it simply a coat of mourning?

“Chief Little Strongheart, leader of the Buffalo tribes. Friend of Ponies, Peacemaker, Saviour of the Evacuation of Southern Equestria, New Bearer of the Element of Generosity.”

A buffalo mare with tribal ornaments offered a solemn nod, weariness and sorrow clear in her expression.

“Rain Shine, matriarch of the Kirins. Grand Maiden of the Daughters of Fury, The Incorruptible, and Baneslayer.”

A most unusual equine stood up. She was tall, almost lion-like in appearance due to her mane, yet had a deer-like slender frame, a single two-branched antler over her head, and a back covered in smooth reptilian scales. She had an ancient, cold air to her, like staring into an old, well grown tree.

Despite that, all felt a shudder as she stared at them with contained righteous indignation behind her cold demeanour as a hot breeze seemed to emanate from this creature.

Never mind the actual dragon, that one there feels more like the creatures of legend. I could practically feel her fury all the way he-

“Prince Regent Pharynx of the Draconic-Changeling Union. Brother of the late King Thorax, and Commander of the Union's armed forces. And his nephew and ward, Chuvash. Son of the late Dragon Lord Ember and the late King Thorax, heir to the throne of the Draconic-Changeling Union.”

A scarred, black insect-like equine with a small curved horn and antlers and a sea green reptile hatchling turned to the Armellian Royalty. The hatchling nervously gave a bow whilst the changeling gave a short nod, scowling with baleful hatred.

I take it back. This one is more dragon-like than the others. If looks could kill…

“There are more members of the Alliance, but their representatives are unavailable due to either defending the Wall and the last three cities of Equestria, sending aid or overseeing the refugees,” said Spike. He paused as he scanned across the room, studying everyone's expressions.

He breathed in a tired sigh before continuing, “I imagine you all have questions, mainly as to why and how we arrived with a huge fleet and refugees. And you probably already know the why part, at least most of it.”

“The Rot,” Thane breathed out. He turned to Amber, “Was it as bad as we feared?”

“It was worse. Far worse,” Amber growled at the recollection, “More than three quarters of the continent is crawling with the infected, the corrupted and the Bane. All numbering by the millions.”

The Armellians in the room gasped at the revelation, the Mayor and several staff present even fainted.

“By the Wyld,” Scarlett shuddered, her mind reeling at the scale.

As bad as the devastation of the Rot was during the Rebellion and the war that followed it, less than half of Armello were actually touched by the conflict, probably even less than a third. And millions… that was too much! The Servants of the Rot, their infected feral thralls and the Bane were barely numbering tens of thousands at the highest estimates.

Her legs gave way as she fell backwards, to which she was caught by Thane.

“What happened there?” Thane almost demanded, barely able to process the scale himself.

Spike breathed out another weary sigh. “You two might want to grab a seat. It's a long and terrible story.”

Prologue: The Festival and the Dark Future

Long ago in the shattered nation called Armello, a stranger from an unknown land came. He watched as the four clans of Armello; The Wolf clan, The Rat clan, The Rabbit clan and The Bear clan fought, feuded and schemed against each other. All vying for dominance in this shattered realm while the common folk were caught in their crossfire; be it from extortion, slavery, protection racketeering, and other insidious means of exploitation.

Having enough of the feuding clans, the stranger set off on a journey across the country. He freed slaves, gained allies, instigated uprisings and clan wars, defended towns, challenged officials, appeased The Wyld, and formed a pact with dark powers.

Across the land he was hailed as a Hero and a Monster; eventually uniting the disputing clans under his banner, his kingdom, his throne. And thus came the rule of King Tau the Lion, first of his name, the Great Unifier of Armello. Under his reign marked the new Golden Age of the once shattered kingdom and prospered like never before seen since the age of the Dragons.

But alas, the age of prosperity could not last; for an ancient dark power demands its due debts.

The Rot. An ancient corruption of the Great Worm took root into the King's very soul, seducing him with its dark influence, coaxing him to undo all that he achieved as it continues to devour him in mind, body and soul.

Thus followed the Return of the Rot. Starvation, death and disease spread like wildfire as the Rot’s blight plagued the farms, towns and villages across Armello. Peasants, serfs and other common folk panic, riot and flee as The Bane, raven shaped horrors of old ravage the countryside and its shambling cohorts of the corrupted infest the roads, forests, dungeons and fallen towns.

All while the kingdom burns, edicts, orders and intrigue throws the four clans into chaos. Arrests, assassinations and more destabilise the leadership among them as infighting instigated by the Crown grows rampant, further destabilising the clans.

The final straw that was Armello's death-knell was heralded by the return of the Dragon clan led by Volodar, High Priest of the worm and servant of the Rot.

The end of Armello was nigh, but Fate decreed otherwise. Scarlett, King of the outlawed Bandit clan, formed an alliance of adventurers from each of the four main clans and launched a crusade against the Rot and its corruption. Their forces carved their way across Armello, clearing the Rot infestation and slaying their agents; liberating towns, villages and cities along the way under their banner.

After three agonising years, they finally besieged the gates of Brimwatch Castle, Armello's capital, and tore into the very throne of the King himself. There Scarlett summoned forth four spirit stones of the Wyld and smote King Tau, ending his reign.

Standing victorious atop of Tau's Rot-infested corpse, Scarlett, King of the Bandit Clan was no more. In her place was Scarlett, Queen of Armello, The Chainbreaker, The Great Liberator, Hero of the People, Chosen of the Wyld, Scourge of the Rot and Kingslayer. Together with her companions, she ruled with benevolence and gusto. Together they continued to purge Armello from the last vestiges of the Rot. And together they lived to this day.

"Mother, was this all true?"

"Yes indeed, my little prince. All that the bard says is true."

"Wow! That is amazing! You really defeated the Evil King and Creatures of Bane?"

"Ha ha ha! Yes I did Ambrose, side by side with your father no less."

Scarlett stood watching a bard's oration of her triumph against the late King Tau in the middle of Brimwatch's city square. Beside her was her five year old son Ambrose, a white-furred fox, still a kit and clung to her cloak. Both were disguised as to not draw attention due to their Royal status.

Brimwatch, if not all of Armello, was preparing for festivities in celebration of their victory against the final vestiges of the Rot. Eight years after King Tau's death, Scarlett and her companions continued the struggle against the Rot’s corruption in a series of raids, skirmishes and battles, to what many referred to as The Rot Wars. For five years they fought against the creatures of Bane, corrupted ferals, armies of the Dragon Clan and traitors who supported King Tau's tyranny. Today marked the third anniversary of the end of the Rot Wars. A celebration of finally recovering from years of blood, tears and sweat.

Scarlett looked fondly at her son, her first pride and joy, and proceeded to walk him through the square towards the Wall of Remembrance; a monument carved with the names of all the fallen.

Captain River the “Howling Arrow” of the Wolven Hunt Rangers
Brun Oakbreaker of the Order of Scarcasters
Sir Barnaby of House Screwloose
Twiss “Little Lightpaw”
Sylas the “Fisher of Souls”

Countless other names were carved into the wall. Names of heroes, champions, warriors, soldiers, mercenaries, militia, merchants, magicians, druids, priests, and common folk. All who fought, bled and died for Armello's salvation from both the Great Revolt against the Mad King and the Rot Wars that followed. All their names are carved in stone.

"Mother, are you crying?"

Scarlett snapped from her thoughts, quickly wiping the tears from her eyes. "Moi, crying?" she said jokingly, trying to hide her sorrow, "Perish the thought my little prince."

Ambrose nuzzled by her side, giving his mother the saddest puppy-dog eyes. "Mother, it's alright," he whimpered comfortingly, "You told me yourself that it's okay to cry if it really hurts."

Caught off guard from her son's empathy and sharp awareness, Scarlett held a look of surprise longer than she intended, lowering her defences. Giving in to Ambrose's offer of comfort, she knelt down and scooped him up into an embrace.

"Your mother will be fine, Ambrose," she said reassuringly as she nuzzled his head. "As long as I have you, your father, " she paused, rubbing her belly with a free paw, "and your baby sibling on the way, I will be fine."

The kit smiled, returning the nuzzle. The two kept their embrace until they were suddenly interrupted by a forced cough.

"Ahem, as much as this is a touching moment, would you care to explain why you are out here, out of bed, in public, without your crown, your regalia or an escort?"

Scarlett broke the embrace, just noticing the crowd around her bowing, an escort of guards before her and a tall white Wolf standing directly in front of her with his arms crossed.

"Hi Thane," the vixen grinned sheepishly, "Nice day for a walk?"

The Wolf, Thane, raised an eyebrow, "I take it that your stroll wasn't at all strenuous or dangerous to you, our son and the baby?"

Before Scarlett could answer, Ambrose interjected, "Not at all, Father. Mother just wanted to show me the preparations for tomorrow's festival. We just climbed down from the castle walls, atop a few rooftops and landed on a haystack. Nothing we haven't tried before."

"Ambrose!"

Scarlett's attempt to silence the kit was in vain as Thane narrowed his eyes at her.

"Hehehe, children say the darndest things."

In the infirmary, Scarlett pouted in front of her husband Thane, Prince-Regent of Armello. She suffered through two hours of medical check ups and lecturing in regards to her reckless behaviour and was on the verge of slipping away out of boredom.

"Of all the irresponsible things you could have done, Scarlett! It's one thing to slip out of the Throne Room in the middle of court, it's another thing to drag our son into your escapades! And to top it all off, you did all this while you're four months pregnant! What were you thinking?!"

Scarlett groaned, "It was boring today. Today was supposed to be the last day of the festival's preparations, and I wanted to at least see it for myself before tomorrow. You know how we will have no time to enjoy ourselves with the festivities. We'd all be stuck raising toasts and welcoming dignitaries and nobles from morning til sundown. So I figured, I might as well get some entertainment while I could still have it. I brought Ambrose along since he's now old enough to keep up with me."

This time it was Thane's turn to groan, "Scarlett, you can't keep doing this! You are Queen! You have an image to uphold.”

“It hasn’t stopped me before,” Scarlett pointed out, “And besides, why are you bringing this up now, eight years after our marriage? You certainly didn’t complain this much when we first ditched the palace. And don't forget before the war started of how reckless you were; challenging everyone and everything with a pulse and a sword to a duel, oh Prince of Swords.”

“That was then, this is now and that's beside the point!" Thane retorted, "I don't want to have to deal with another noble's complaint of why our Queen is missing, on the day before the festival no less! Not to mention risking our first born and the little one coming on the way."

Scarlett huffed out a pout, her fur puffing adorably. "I still don't see why you couldn't just take the throne if you care about appearances so much," she said as she crossed her arms.

"First off, weren't you the one who constantly bragged about how much you'll look good with two crowns? Second, it was not I who led us to victory and did away with the Mad King, that was you. By Right of Conquest, you are the Crowned Queen whether you like it or not.”

“Don’t remind me,” she groaned, “I’ve heard it a thousand times now.”

“Then for Wyld’s sake Scarlett, at least keep up with decorum and caution!” Thane finally snapped before softening, “You are no longer the Bandit King; you are the Queen of Armello. You can no longer be just the commoner’s Queen, you are the uniting force of the Clans. You can’t just keep galavanting anymore, we have a kingdom to run and children to watch over. If you don’t start taking this seriously you will not only put yourself in danger, you will endanger the kingdom, our subjects and our children.”

Scarlett breathed out a long sigh. “Fine, fine,” she groaned, “I will be in my best behaviour tomorrow, but only while the nobles and vassals are present.”

Thane simply rolled his eyes and approached to embrace her from behind. “Just stop making me worry for you, alright?” he whispered into her ear, “After everything we've been through, I wouldn't be able to bear losing you and our family.”

Scarlett gave a light scoff, curling one of his wrists with her own. “You big softy,” she cooed as she returned his embrace with a nuzzle, “How did a brute like you become gentler than a lamb?”

Thane snorted as he caressed her within his embrace, “Maybe if you weren't so fragile to hold I would have maintained my tough interior.”

Scarlett raised an eyebrow with a seductive smirk. “Oh? That was not the impression I had when we made this little one,” she teased, patting the bulge in her womb.

“Oh really? Is that a challenge or an offer?” Thane returned her enticing smirk with a grin of his own.

“Careful darling, we don't want to spoil our little one, do we?” Scarlett said as she reciprocated his advance and leaned in for a kiss.

“Ew! Gross!”

The couple froze from the sudden reaction from their unintended audience.

“Ambrose of House Greymane, how long have you been eavesdropping?” Scarlett asked calmly.

“There are no eaves here in Castle Brimwatch, Mother,” the albino kit replied cheekily, “otherwise Lord Mercurio would be the first to know.”

Thane grinned slyly. “Oh you cheeky little rascal,” he snarled mischievously, “Are you being smart with us Ambrose?”

Ambrose smiled with the same mischief, “Maybe?”

Thane stood on all fours and slowly approached the albino kit, likened to a predator about to pounce on their prey. “Well then. We all know what happens to parents when children play smart with them, don't we?”

Ambrose playfully gasped, “Oh no!”

“Oh yes. They become… The Predator!”

Ambrose screamed as he ran out the room, followed quickly by Thane as he chased him into the castle hallways with a bellowing howl.

Scarlett smiled fondly as she listened to the laughter, howling and shouts of protests from the staff of their chase. He can talk about being a proper ruler all he wants. But when it comes to kids, he'll always throw decorum out the window. I will miss this when Ambrose grows up.

The festivities of the following day went full swing. Dawn till dusk from the capital of Brimwatch to the most remote village, the entire kingdom celebrated with all the fruits of their hard-earned labour. Food stalls and party games as far as the eye could see. Circus tents, auditoriums and theatres were filled to the brim with performers and captivated audiences. Streets deafened by laughing children, singing bards, marching bands, bargaining merchants and fireworks. It was an unending tide of revelry and cheer.

Scarlett leaned over a balcony marvelling the sight. A full moon lit brightly above her as she smiled with content. Eight years. Eleven including the Rebellion. It feels like Armello never knew peace like this. Yet here we are at last, she mused to herself as she took a sip from her tankard.

“My Queen, the guests are waiting for you.”

Her shoulders slumped as she sighed. “Et tu, Horace?” she glared glumly at a tall badger clad in armour over a white and red tunic, “Must my Captain of the Guard and long time friend deny me savouring the fruits of the kingdom’s hard earned peace?”

“There is no rest for Royalty lest they be negligent as I used to warn you,” smirked her captain.

Scarlett returned his with an unamused frown. “You are a bore, you know that?” she pouted in a low voice, “It’s no wonder you and Thane get along so well.”

“To be fair, your grace, he is only doing his duty as part of your orders to keep yourself in line.”

A brown bear with a green cloak and staff, signifying that she is a priestess of the Wyld, cut into the conversation as she approached the balcony. She was accompanied by a brown rat dressed in red and white silken finery, punctuated by a red rose pinned to his shirt.

“Sana has a point, my queen,” the rat spoke, continuing his larger companion’s ribbing at Scarlett’s expense, “If memory serves correctly, you ordered, and I quote; ‘If I’m going to mess up as Queen, give me a good scolding. It shall be an edict and none shall be punished for it.’”

“Mercurio,” Scarlett scowled, unamused by the jest, “since when did my Master of Coin conspire with my High Priestess of the Wyld to lecture me this fine evening?”

The Rat Mercurio gave a mock gasp, “You wound me, my Queen! I would never conspire against you, much less lecture you on such a night of revelry. Alas, I was merely following your orders to the letter. What member of your council would I be if I cannot even follow a simple directive from your own edict?”

Scarlett raised an eyebrow, “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

Mercurio smiled, “Most certainly.”

Crossing her arms, she turned to the bear who stood serenely, “And you, Sana?”

“I did not come here to lecture royalty, your Highness,” the Priestess gave a small bow as she smiled gently, “I merely came here to remind a friend of her duties.”

Scarlett’s head drooped with an exacerbated sigh. “You are right, as usual,” she grumbled. “I’ll make for the Great Hall as soon as I finish my grape juice,” she added as she turned back to the balcony, taking a sip from her tankard.

Taking that as their que to leave, the three of them made their way out to the Great Hall but not before Sana added one last thing. “Oh, I almost forgot,” she spoke almost nonchalantly, “you better finish that beverage quickly because Prince-consort Thane asked me to find you. He said that his mother, Lady Freyja Greymane, arrived sooner than expected and would much like to see her daughter-in-law and queen to announce the festivities among the nobles.”

Scarlett spat out her drink. “And why didn’t you tell me this sooner?!” she shrieked in horror.

“I thought it would be better to appeal to our friendship rather than your fear of your in-law,” Sana simply shrugged, a playful smirk escaping her usually serious expression, “Sadly, it seems I was mistaken.”

Passing her tankard to Horace, Scarlett bolted from the balcony and out into the Great Hall.

“You know Sana, I never took you for the mischievous sort,” said Horace.

The Priestess grinned, “And you would be right, Captain. I merely wanted to return the favour for the many times I was roped into her pranks against Thane years ago.”

“Oh. I see,” Horace nodded knowingly.

“Ahh, good times,” Mercurio sighed fondly.

“Stupid Sana, she could have started with that!” Scarlett grumbled to herself as she raced across the hallways towards the Great Hall. “I can’t believe I missed out on the Wolves’ Clan Alpha’s arrival! I thought she was coming tomorrow due to delays! Now I’m going to get an earful from Thane and a disapproving scorn from Lady Freyja, if she doesn’t kill me first.”

Noticing the rushing queen from a distance approaching, one of the servants managed to call out, “ANNOUNCING HER ROYAL MAJESTY, QUEEN SCARLETT!” as she slowed her sprint into the Great Hall’s entrance mouthing a “Thank you” as she passed.

“My apologies for the delay, fair nobles of Armello,” she announced with a forced smile and a clap from her paws, “I had… other matters to attend to.”

While most of the nobles offered polite bows (with a few raising their glasses in cheers) more than a few quietly grumbled and scoffed.

And this was why I didn't want to be here, she thought to herself, slightly grimacing from their leers.

Noticing his wife's discomfort, Thane made his way towards her. “Finally, you made it,” he said in a hushed voice for privacy, “I thought I would have to drag you here by your collar if you hadn't shown up. How are you doing?”

“Why didn't you tell me that your mother was here early?” Scarlett demanded in a harsh whisper.

“And I thought you would be here,” Thane retorted, “Seriously, you told me just yesterday! Besides, I didn't know that Mother was arriving early.”

“How did she even get her so fast?! The mountains are about a week’s trek from here!” Scarlett hissed while looking for a head or tail of her mother-in-law.

Scarlett had faced Banes, cultists, rogues, soldiers, and the former King himself in deadly combat. But in all her life, nothing felt more terrifying to her than Lady Freyja of House Greymane.

The Alpha of the Wolf Clan was cold, ruthless in her pragmatism, words and disposition, and could give such a scowl that could freeze one’s blood on the spot. It was no secret to anyone that she disapproved of her son marrying Scarlett. Mostly because she had wanted her son to become the new King and the fact that she herself was not from noble blood. And that wasn’t even mentioning her not being a member of the Wolf Clan.

Still, the political benefits to being tied to the throne were too good to ignore and Thane loved Scarlett with all his heart. And with a grandson and future heir tying the Wolf Clan’s bloodline to the crown their relationship was even more important. That didn’t mean that Lady Freyja couldn’t get on Scarlett’s case like a tick on her rear end.

“I hope she’s in a good mood,” Scarlett muttered. “And I hope she’s not going to be spending the night here.”

“Why? Is there a reason I am not allowed to spend time in my family’s home?”

Scarlett froze up for a split second before turning around with the biggest forced smile she could muster. “M-Mother-in-law! So good to see you.”

“Likewise, your Highness,” replied an elderly grey wolf in an elegant tone with a bow. She was clad in noble garbs fit for a colder climate and stood a head shorter than Thane but slightly taller than the queen. “I apologise for my unexpected punctuality,” she added, “If I had known that I would be arriving sooner I would have sent a runner ahead of me.”

Scarlett’s eye twitched despite her smile. She was no stranger to verbal fencing, especially one as passively aggressive as her mother-in-law. If anything she enjoyed returning the favour with her usual blunt banter that she picked up from her time as The Bandit King. It always delighted her to watch some stuck up socialite fluster with her colourful choice of words that are best left out of polite conversations. That said, she could never dare to try her roguish luck against one whose tongue is even sharper than their glare, and Lady Freyja is as proficient a verbal fencer as Thane is with swords.

Never use a battering ram against an archer, she thought irritably.

Mentally shaking herself off, Scarlett maintained her forced smile and replied sweetly, “Not at all, Mother-in-law. If I had known you would be arriving sooner I would have prepared a grand reception earlier; trumpets, banner bearers, a grander carpet perhaps.”

Thane visibly cringed and resisted facepalming as his mother blinked slowly. “Rather bold of you to address me with sarcasm, your Highness,” she said coolly, a small amused smirk forming on her muzzle, “Quite unbecoming for a queen, wouldn't you agree?”

Foulness! Dammit, why did I say that?! Scarlett screamed internally, mentally kicking herself. “Forgive me, Lady Freyja,” she said, still maintaining her forced polite smile, “my mind is still elsewhere with matters of consequence, such as my incoming child.”

Before either of them could say another word, a forced cough intervened.

“Speaking of children,” Thane politely interrupted, “where is my greeting, Mother?”

“I have not forgotten you, my son. Your Father, rest his soul, would be most displeased if I were to neglect you,” Lady Freyja smiled, giving Thane an embrace before quickly turning, “Now then, where is my grandson?”

Right on que, Ambrose suddenly appeared out of nowhere and hugged the old wolf from behind. “Grandma Freyja!” he squealed with delight, “You came early! Did you miss me? Did you miss me?”

“I certainly have,” she replied, smiling fondly as she returned the embrace, “Have you been on your best behaviour since we last spoke?”

The young prince nodded enthusiastically, “Ah-huh.”

“In that case, I have something very special for you.” She reached for her purse and produced a vine knotted into a ball. The vine glowed like moonlight and seemed to float from her palm.

Several guests who saw this gasped in awe and shock, Scarlett herself couldn’t help dropping her jaw at the object. Several priests of the Wyld and members of the Bear Clan began chanting hymns of blessings as though it were a holy relic.

“A Wyld Talisman,” Lady Frejya explained as she gently passed the ball of vines to Ambross who held it with awed caution, “A sacred treasure from the Druids of the Wyld. This Relic shall ward you from any corruption of the Rot.”

“Would have been useful to have when I was infected,” Thane muttered dryly under his breath.

After giving the Talisman a firm grasp, he pocketed the relic and gave the old wolf another hug. “Thank you Grandma. I promise to keep it safe with me.”

“I know you will, child,” she smiled as she left his embrace. “Now stand up straight, broaden your shoulders, and don't forget to thank your parents for inviting me here,” she added, giving Scarlett a smirk.

You sneaky old bitch. Scarlett resisted to scowl at her In-law's remark. Whilst she accepted her son's thanks for the invitation and dismissed him to meet with his friends, she turned to Thane and whispered, “Could you please have a word with your mother about making me look bad in front of our son?”

Not long after, the guests began to seat themselves at their tables. Fine wine, exotic fruits and vegetables, ripe roasted meat (from non-talking animals of course), pastries like cakes, quiches and sandwiches were served all across the Great Hall. Nobles, Merchants, Priests, Officials, Officers, Scholars and more chattered, cheered and in some instances challenged amongst themselves with bets and other inconsequential matters such as the abundance of harvests this season or the small victories against straggling Bane or slavers.

The hall slowly drew to a silence as all turned to the seat of their queen. Scarlett stood up, goblet in one paw and (for once that night) a genuine smile, gesturing for a toast.

“Friends. Brethren. Companions. Lords and Ladies. Priests and Priestesses. Merchants and Scholars. Soldiers and Peasants. Citizens of Armello!” Scarlett declared, garnering praises and cheers, “Eight years we have suffered under the yoke of the Mad King's shadow. Eight years we have been hunted down as prey by the Bane. Eight years we were beset by traitors and outlaws who sought to devour our wealth and peoples. Eight years we have toiled to purge this kingdom from all manners of corruption. Eight years we have lost family, friends, and more to the servants of the Rot. Eight years we have laboured to make our lands fruitful and secure once more.”

She paused to let her words sink in. The room became deathly silent.

“Now,” she continued, “Now here we stand before the fruits of our hard-earned labours. Now we stand before our shattered foes, our dead avenged. Now we stand here, Victorious!”

The hall roared into cheers.

“Long live the Queen!” Horace bellowed with a raised tankard.

“Long live the Queen!” echoed the crowd.

“Long live Armello!” answered Scarlett before drinking from her goblet (non-alcoholic of course), signalling the festivities to proceed.

However as the night progressed, the sounds of revelry and merriment soon faded as many began to notice one uninvited guest quietly entering among their midst.

It was a withered old rat, garbed in a red cloak and a blind mask, carrying a flaming staff in his right paw. Many of the guests stared at the newcomer bewildered whilst others who recognised him began to scowl and even drew swords.

“Queen Scarlett,” the old rat spoke, his voice rasp but loud as though desperate to be heard, “I have come with ill tidings and demand that you muster your forces immediately!”

Mercurio raised a rapier to the old rat’s neck, glaring at him with hatred. “You have some nerve to show yourself after all these years and demand from our queen on a night of celebrations, traitor!” he snarled.

“Stow your blade, boy,” the old rat said dryly, unflinching and unmoved by his threat, “Fate demands that you will not kill me here.”

“No, you’re right. I won’t dirty my sword with your blood,” Mercurio sneered, a malicious grin forming, “You deserve a traitor’s death by the gallows for all you did, you Rot-infested crone!”

“Mercurio, stand down!”

All eyes turned to Scarlett as she stood imperiously from her seat. “You are my Master of Coin, not an Executioner. Let me handle this.”

His baleful eyes had not left the old rat as he sheathed his rapier and returned begrudgingly to his seat.

As Mercurio sat, Scarlett turned to the old rat. “What are you doing here, Sargon?” she glared at him suspiciously, “Last time we saw you was seven years ago when you left us for dead in Darkmire, trapped in that town by the Bane and the Rot corrupted villagers.”

“I have not come here to reminisce of my past… mistakes,” said Sargon.

“Mistakes? MISTAKES?!” Mercurio rose up, slamming his fist on the table, “Your mistakes cost us hundreds of innocent Armellian lives you wretch! We lost 40 lives in Darkmire alone! My Love among them!”

“Mercurio is right!” a noble from the Rabbit Clan donned in a buttoned white shirt and a grey vest with golden embellishments shouted, “I say we hang the traitor now! I for one will not humour any more from his slanderous tongue! Too many towns have burned because of his actions! Many more lives are threatened by his existence alone!”

The hall roared with ascent. Howls, growls and screams demand for Sargon’s execution.

“Wait!” called out a new voice from the hall entrance. A tall white rabbit clad in an amber and brown adventurer’s uniform entered swiftly next to Sargon. Gasps were heard as all saw the familiar face and her iconic silk umbrella.

“Amber?!” Scarlett could hardly contain her shock at the sight of an old friend, even more so with the implied association of the known traitor.

“Scarlett, please,” the rabbit pleaded, “I will vouch for him. You need to-”

“Have you gone mad, Amber?!” the Rabbit noble from earlier snarled, “You disappeared for five years and now you collude with this Rot-infested fiend?!”

Amber sighed, eyeing Sargon for a moment. The rat simply gestures for her to speak. “Elyssia,” she addressed the noble with some hesitation but continued, “I admit he isn’t trustworthy, but for the last six years I have been searching for clues as to where the Dragon Clan fled to. We came across each other five years ago within the ruins of Castle Belaerian. I soon found out that our goals aligned after realising that the threat is even greater than we imagined.”

“Amber,” the Priestess Sana stood up, calmly speaking, “the Rot Wars are over. The Rot has been purged from these lands; the infected are cured, the corrupted destroyed, the few Bane that roam the Kingdom are but stragglers far from populated areas, and are hunted down as we speak. The Dragon Clan and other servants of The Rot are all but destroyed. These last three years alone were spent on healing the lands of the Kingdom.” She smiled kindly to the Adventurer, “Far Seeker, while I sympathise with your concerns of their return, I fear you may have been isolated in the wilderness and ruins for too long. Much has been achieved and conquered these past five years, so much so that fewer expeditions are mustered and they are against common threats such as pirates, slavers and the mentioned straggling Bane.”

Amber shook her head mournfully. “Nay Sana. With all my heart I wish you were right, but the war is not over. What we have won is only a reprieve. The servants of the Rot, The Dragon Clan still live.”

“Impossible!” Lady Freyja objected, “We slew them all in their last bastion in Fangbrook Swamp! We even beheaded their remaining champion Agniya! Our best rangers and assassins finished what remaining vestiges within Armello and the surrounding borders. Our best Priests, Scryers and Spies searched every inch of ground within Armello and found not a trace of them. Do you mean to tell us that we are mistaken?”

“Aye, Lady Freyja,” Amber nodded, “we have erred for we have searched for them where they are no longer. Were it not for the Death Teller,” she pointed to Sargon, “we would not be here to inform you of our findings.”

Amber took a deep breath and continued, “What we found was so dire that we risked a Traitor’s sentence to inform you. If you will not hear him, I fear we will follow a dark future that will destroy all we have struggled against.”

Scarlett studied Amber’s expression. She was never one to panic, even against overwhelming odds. Yet the look on her face says otherwise. There’s no doubt it’s Amber; the smell of musty old tombs and mountain moss are all over her. Yet to side with that traitorous vermin, it is out of character for her. She hates him just as much as the rest of us, if not more so since he was the reason for the death of her squire. Either she’s been brainwashed or she’s desperate enough to side with him. And if that were the case, why not report this herself and leave the Veil Walker out of it? Why bring Sargon here to inform us of this threat instead of her? Unless… Perhaps she only knows a degree of the danger and not the full scope. Typical of her I suppose, to leap right into danger for a small chance of success. Meaning she truly believes in what he says as truth.

“Amber,” Scarlett finally said, “we have known each other well since the rebellion. We have bled together in many battles, we shared tales of our lives to each other, we fell in love with the same male and swore to accept whichever of us he chooses.” She saw Amber blushed a bit and took a glance at Thane who looked gobsmacked from the confession. She looked to her side and reached a paw to nuzzle her son who stared at the rabbit in awe, “I considered you the closest I have left to a sister, so for your sake I will hear him out.”

Amber let out a breath she didn’t even realise she was holding, “Thank you Scarlett.”

The vixen gave her a smile before it disappeared as she turned to Sargon, “Say your piece, Death Teller but choose your words wisely, else I order my Captain to ready the gallows.”

“Very well,” the old rat nodded. He lifted his flaming staff high and the flames rose high above the Great Hall. Images and figures began to form from the flames, resembling events as he narrates, “Let me begin where we last parted: I admit, I did betray you in the ambush of Darkmire. My plan was to leave you all for dead in the town and flee straight for Brimwatch to claim the throne for my own.”

The room buzzed with snarls and growls of outrage but no voice raised to interrupt.

“In my arrogance I was blind to the fate that awaited my betrayal,” he chuckled to himself in irony, “I was ambushed by one of the Bane that surrounded the town and was grievously injured, corrupting my flesh with the Rot.” He pulled a sleeve from his left arm, revealing a festering wound one black pustules.

Many gasped at the sight, several guards and Scarcasters ready to slay him if he were to be loose.

“How are you still sound in mind and spirit?!” demanded Sana as she readied her Wyldfyre staff.

“With this,” he reached for his cloak and revealed a familiar glowing orb of knotted vines.

More gasps of shock and disbelief rang across the hall.

“Bane’s beak! A Wyld Talisman?!”

“Impossible! Only the Druids could bestow such a treasure!”

“Perhaps he stole it?”

Lady Freyja stepped forward. “Where did you get that, villain?”

“It was given to me to save my life… by the Druids themselves,” he replied, continuing to speak over the objecting protests, “The Druids offered me redemption, in exchange for the task given to me.”

“If that were the case, why did they not purify you completely?” asked Thane, recalling the time he was infected by the Rot and was cured due to the Druids’ intervention.

“My wounds were too grievous, the corruption was too severe and my body was too frail to endure the process. Purifying me will kill me on the spot.”

“Oh what a pity,” Mercurio acidly snarked.

“The Talisman is the only thing keeping me alive and free from the Rot’s corruption,” he continued, “And will remain as my lifeline so long as I accomplish my mission, though the mission itself was motive enough to accomplish.”

“And what is your mission?” Scarlett demanded.

The flames formed figures, creatures resembling the Dragon Clan fleeing from the armies of Armello.

“As I was rescued I was given a vision: The Veil of the Future fully opened to me. Every possible outcome; all that could have been, and all that will be. And the future that I have seen for us left me mortified. All I have done for my own selfish ambition for the Throne led to a cascade of two, perhaps three possible outcomes; two are a certainty whilst the possible third is an arduous endeavour with an uncertain outcome. For in my shortsighted actions I have created an opportunity for the servants of the Rot to escape extinction and flee to the western sea, into lands beyond the great ocean.”

“Hah, then they are fools!” Elyssia snidely huffed, “Everyone knows that there is nothing across the edge of the world. The Abyssinian Clan and the Diamond Dog family’s failed expeditions saw to that five hundred years ago. None of them ever returned to prove the circumference of the world.”

“A moment Wardress Elyssia, it had just occurred to me that they might not be as foolish as you think,” Horace countered, “Roughly a few years ago, the Bandit Clan encountered a fleet of flying ships by Houndsmouth’s Port. We barely saved the town from the fleet’s raiders.”

“Of course, I had almost forgotten about that,” added Scarlett, “We thought they were another faction trying to usurp the throne. As it turns out, they were simple pirates from across the sea. We defeated them in short order but they did cause substantial damage to the town. The pirates we interrogated claimed they were acquiring supplies for an invasion of a continent to the west.”

“It is this continent that the servants of the Rot fled to,” continued Sargon, the flames shifted with images of quadrupeds of all manner of forms, “It is a land whose power and knowledge surpasses our own by a thousand years. It is the seat of power that moves the celestial bodies above us. And it is there that the Dragon Clan seeks to lay conquest.”

The figures in the flames changed into a giant worm devouring the sun and moon, with raven-like abominations terrorising every creature across the world. Gasps and shrieks of horror were heard across the hall as Sargon continued, “If they succeed, the kingdoms of that continent, Armello, and all other nations of this world known and unknown will be plunged into an eternity of darkness! The Great Worm shall awaken and bind all within its will! And the world shall suffer a new era of strife, far more cataclysmic than the age of monsters!”

The flames then shrank back onto his staff as the images faded. The hall became deathly silent.

“I foresaw this future which was why I sought the services of The Far Seeker,” the old rat broke the silence, “For five years we have journeyed across the Kingdom in search of Spirit Stones from every Ruin, Dungeon and Stone Circle in preparation for the journey west.”

“How many stones have you collected?” Sana asked in awe.

“Thousands, give or take,” replied Amber, much to the shock of everyone, “We spent a fortune hiring mercenaries both to help our search for Stone Circles and excavate every Dungeon and Ruin in the Kingdom. We bought their silence and service with whatever treasure and plunder we could find.”

Thane groaned, eyeing Amber irritably, “Somehow that explains the sudden influx of relics and antiques in the Black market.”

Amber’s ears lopped down as she laughed nervously, “Heh heh, it’s for a good cause?”

“Wonderful,” Elyssia added dryly, “We can add unsanctioned excavation of ruins and illegal exploration of dungeons to your list of crimes. Not to mention involvement with the Black market.”

“An inconsequential price to pay to prevent this apocalypse from happening,” said Sargon, stomping his staff to emphasise his point, “The future ahead of us holds two certain possibilities; final victory against the Rot or the end of the world as we know it. If we are to end this threat once and for all Armello must rally its armies and sail west to deal with the servants of the Rot and its spread. If we do not act, then we will have lost the world entirely.”

The hall erupts in outrage.

“Send our armies west?! Are you mad?!”

“This is clearly treachery! You will have us leave Armello defenceless!”

“But if what he says is true, there is no stopping the Rot from conquering a whole continent’s worth of Kingdoms!”

“Do you honestly believe this heretical Traitor?!”

“Better their continent than us, I say!”

“I don’t trust the rat, but if this threat is true then we must at least send an expedition, just to be sure.”

“And how would the nations of this unknown continent take such an expedition? We would just be seen as invaders!”

“Have you all gone mad? Are you all seriously considering the traitor’s words to hold truth?!”

“ENOUGH!”

The room was silenced from Scarlett’s scream. “I will not have us bicker and argue over tidings of doom and gloom on this night of celebration!” She then turned to Amber and she noticed her eyes were still filled with determined conviction. Foulness! Dammit! You’re determined to see this through, aren’t you? She cursed internally. Very well, let's get this over with. She set her sights to Sargon, glaring daggers at him.

“Death Teller,” she announced as though passing her verdict, “I don’t trust you. I could never trust you, not for all the lives lost by your treachery. To me you are rotten to the core, both figuratively and literally.”

A trepid silence followed. Scarlett observed the crowd’s reaction; all full of fear, hatred, anxiety and more. All suffered and experienced the horrors of the Rot and traitors for more than a decade. All waiting in anticipation for her judgement.

Her eyes returned to Sargon and continued, “But, Dame Amber of House Valebriar did vouch for you, and I trust her with my life. You risked my judgement to inform us of this threat, that if nothing else raises a valid concern for the distant future. That said, you are still a traitor.

“Therefore: Sargon the Death Teller; for your crimes against the people and the Crown, I banish you from the lands of Armello! And in your banishment, you are hereby tasked to eliminate the threat of the Rot, and you will remain in exile until this threat is vanquished! You will have no support from the crown, and you will have no army to aid you in your quest!”

“Scarlett, this is insane!” Amber protested. Her eyes wide, appalled, “You cannot expect him to achieve this task alone!”

“He is not going alone. You are going with him.”

Gasps echoed Amber's own. Several muttered among them.

“I know nothing I say will dissuade you from continuing this quest of destroying the Rot once and for all, so instead I shall send you forth with him. Unlike the traitor however, I am not banishing you; you are to accompany him as his jailer. You will ensure he does not return to Armello until his task is done.”

“Y-you would send me away with him?” Amber’s voice quivered mixed fear and anger, “Into lands unknown with nothing but a stash of Spirit Stones?!”

“You are not in a position to question my decision, Amber!” Scarlett all but hissed, “You vanished for five years colluding with this traitor! FIVE YEARS, AMBER! Not a word, not a runner, not even a letter! I let you run off hunting the remnants of the Dragon Clan six years ago by your request because I knew you desired the head of their leader! We all mourned when we heard how that Rot-worshipping bastard corrupted the entire House of Valebriar, so I respected your request to hunt him down personally. But then you vanished without a trace, which led most to fear of your fate! I even requested that your name be held from the Wall in hopes that you still live! I named my son and heir in your honour after I gave up searching for you, two months after his birth!”

“Mother please, don’t be angry,” Scarlett heard with a whimper as she felt a soft pair of paws clutch tightly on her gown. She looked down towards her son who returned her look with pleading eyes moist with tears. A thrill of horror took her as she stared into those saddened, frightened eyes. She turned to Amber whose head hung low, shame clear in her expression. The silence within the halls hung heavily from the tension.

By the Wyld, what am I doing? I need to keep my personal feelings out of this. Releasing an exacerbated exhale she calmed herself and returned her gaze towards the Adventurer. “You must understand, Amber, you are already asking too much of me, and as Queen, Armello must come first before anything else. I cannot raise an army for an expedition across the world, not even to rid ourselves of the Rot once and for all. Not even for you. This Kingdom had just recovered from the Rot War. I cannot in good conscience raise an army so soon after all we suffered. Perhaps in three or four years from now I could prepare an expedition a thousand strong, but I cannot do so now.”

Amber hesitantly raised her head towards Scarlett. “Three years may be too late, Scarlett,” she said, her voice soft and disheartened, “By then they will have-”

“I was not finished,” interjected Scarlett, silencing the rabbit, “I said I cannot raise an army, I did not say I won’t send you without support.”

“My Queen, did you not just decree that they will receive no support for this endeavour?” Mercurio spoke out, voicing the same objection among the nobles and vassals.

“I said that the traitor will not receive support from the Crown, that however is not said the same for Dame Amber,” elaborated Scarlett with a smirk, “She will be given command of a company of fifty volunteers from the Royal Guard as well as any adventurer crazy enough to join this expedition. They will be granted three years worth of supplies for the journey. The Death Teller will receive none of these; he will not order any within the expedition, nor will he receive any supplies save for any of his own. He will be allowed to live off the land but only when necessary. His sentence is to eliminate the servants of the Rot with nothing but the tools he carries with him. His well being is of no concern for us. If he dies before he completes his quest then justice is done and the expedition is to return to Armello post haste, accomplished or otherwise. If he succeeds, only then will he earn his pardon and shall be allowed to return.”

Mutters of ascent echoed within the Great Hall.

Lady Freyja smiled in amusement. “Well played, your Highness,” she muttered to herself, “Well played.”

Scarlett took a moment to survey the room as the mutterings continued. She saw the many placated glares from those who desired Sargon dead such as Mercurio and Elyssia. She saw the looks of concern from the likes of Sana and Ambrose. Then she saw the proud faces of Thane, Horace and of all people, Lady Freyja herself. She returned her gaze towards Amber; a hurt expression was written all over her. She saw relief in there as well, along with sorrow, bitterness, weariness, and… gratitude?

I am sorry Amber, but it is either our friendship or our home and too many are depending on me to ensure Armello’s security. I hope one day you can forgive me for my decisions tonight.

She turned to Sargon, “Is there anything you want to add, Death Teller?”

The old rat looked worn out, as though his life was sapped away. “Only that I wished you chose a different path,” he spoke wearily and turned his head towards the Queen, “Still, at the very least you didn’t choose the path of certain destruction. On the other paw, I cannot see where the fate of the world lies in this new path, none except my own.”

Well, at least that’s a comfort. “Are there any other objections?”

None spoke out.

“Excellent. The Expedition will have a month to prepare.” She turned to the wardress, “Wardress Elyssia; assemble a small fleet of ships in Stag’s Landing. I understand the city is part of your domain, therefore I leave you in charge of most of the preparations.”

The rabbit smirked, “To rid ourselves of this vermin? It will be a pleasure. In fact, I shall oversee their departure myself.”

Scarlett turned to Horace, “Captain, I want you to form a company of fifty volunteers, ten of each clan.”

“It will be done, your Majesty,” he saluted.

“Mercurio, send word to the Adventurers’ Guild. Let them know of Dame Amber’s return as well as the quest to the west. Tell them any who join shall have the honour of being the first Armellians to venture the elusive western continent and shall have their names recorded in the history books.”

The Master of Coin raised an eyebrow. “And what of the question of payment?”

“Any Adventurer who works for Coin is not insane enough to join the expedition,” she flatly replied.

“Ah, I see.”

“Now then, I believe that concludes all businesses for tonight,” said Scarlett as she clapped her paws together, “You are all dismissed. Please return to your guest quarters, or if you desire you may continue the festivities outside. I believe the parade is still in procession. And remember, the festival ends at the end of the week so please take your time to enjoy the festivities.”

As the guests filed out, Scarlett finally slumped into her seat and onto the table, exhausted from the ordeal. She didn’t even look up to see Amber off. “Had I known at the time I should have made this country a republic a long time ago,” she muttered to herself, “I could have retired to an estate with a vineyard by now.”

“Alas, such is the weight of responsibility.”

Scarlett glanced up to the voice, head still slumped on the table. “Leave me be, Mother-in-law,” she sighed tiredly, “I’ve not the strength nor the patience for your game of words.”

“A pity then,” came Lady Freyja’s reply, “I suppose then you have not the strength to hear me praise you.”

Scarlett’s ears pointed upright. “Come again?”

“You did what you thought was right for the Kingdom,” Lady Freyja answered, her voice somehow becoming gentle, “You held your ground against opposition, you prioritised the well being of your subjects over personal feelings, you skillfully placated disagreeable subjects, and most impressively you managed to make the best of both decisions; punishment for the traitor and a punitive expedition to destroy our mortal foes once and for all.

“If nothing else you did well, Daughter-in-law.”

Scarlett’s eyes went wide as dinner plates as the last thing she would have expected to hear left her stunned. The final straw of what was left of her mental faculties was when she received a quick embrace from Lady Freyja, leaving her mortified in her seat.

Before Scarlett blacked out she heard her mother-in-law’s final words that night.

“Take your rest, Scarlett. I wouldn’t want your stress to make my next grandchild ill. And don’t worry about me, I will take my leave from the capital by the first light on the morrow.”

A month later in Stag's Landing, a fleet of five ships were docked by the harbour awaiting for the expedition to depart.

“You know, it isn't too late to reconsider this journey Amber,” said Horace.

The two were overseeing the volunteers of Royal Guards and Adventurers who were bidding farewells to loved ones and boarded the ships.

“It needed to be done Horace,” said the Adventurer, “I can't rest easy knowing they are still out there, just waiting to return.”

Horace shrugged, “Well, if nothing else I bid you good luck. I'd come with but duty demands I remain.”

“Just as well you remain. You will be needed when the expedition returns.”

They both turned to see Sargon approach them.

“Coming from you bodes ill for me,” said Horace, glowering at the veil walker, “Were it not for the Far Seeker I would have slain you on the spot.”

“Take comfort then,” Sargon said somberly as he stared across the sea, “your Queen has condemned me to my death, whether she realises it or not. Through her decision I am condemned, for there was only one path of fate that I may have survived. I will not live to see the end.”

Horace studied the old rat. He stared across the ocean himself and said just as somberly, “If that were the case then the expedition returning in short order should be guaranteed.”

Amber glared at the captain. “Do you not care for the defeat of our mortal enemies?” she questioned, her tone as sharp as daggers.

“I care for my men and Armello,” he replied dryly, “If this expedition fails we will need all the strength and experience we could get to prepare for the Dragon Clan’s return. If I may be blunt to mention, this expedition is more of a scouting force than a punitive one. Even if you do succeed it would make for a perfect area for expansion.”

Amber scoffed, “Typical Bandit Clan mindset; exploit every opportunity even in the most dire of situations.”

Horace shrugged, “It is how Armello survived these past eight years. As our saying goes; if life gives you lemons, make citrus bombs.”

Rolling her eyes, Amber turned to the shore. A large group of onlookers and visitors watched and waved to their expedition. She noted several figures such as Elyssia, Sana and Thane from a distance. Her ears lopped down after noticing someone missing.

“Where is Scarlett? I would have thought as Queen she would be seeing us off.”

“Her majesty cannot take leave due to her condition,” replied the badger, “Apparently the little one decided to pop rather early if her health was anything to go by.”

“Then why is Thane here?” she asked, shocked from the news.

“Queen Scarlett insisted that he be the one to see you off.”

“Then why isn’t he-”

“Dame Amber!”

A white fox kit ran towards them.

“Prince Ambrose?” Amber stood almost gobsmacked at the kit, “What are you doing here?”

“I’ve come to give you this!” He stopped before them and straightened up whilst holding a large parchment. “Ahem. By the atho… athor-ra-tee of her ma-majes… majesty Scarlett, the queen of Ar… Arme… Armello,” he began to stutter, clearly struggling to read the scroll, “Dam-e... Dame Amber of Hoos-e Val-e-breeyar is given full atho-ra-tee as amba… amba…”

“Ambassador,” smiled Amber, clearly amused by the adorable declaration.

“Am-bassador,” Ambrose continued, blushing from embarrassment, “and En-voy on be-hal-fu of the King-dom of Amrello in this ex-pedi-ti-eon. You are to use this atho-”

“-Authority.”

“... Author-rity to estab-blish contact with the nee-boring Kingdoms within the new discov-er-red cont-tee-nent… in order to full-fill your miss-eon.” He held out the parchment before her. In a practised speech he added, “Please take this parchment to the main authority of the closest Kingdom upon your arrival.”

Amber knelt down at eye level with the young prince and received the parchment with a bow. “As Commander of the expedition, I am honoured to take this charge,” she replied, smiling at Ambrose.

He in turn smiled and quickly hugged the adventurer who was surprised at the sudden embrace.

“That was from Mother,” he explained, ending the embrace, “She said to give you one after I give you the letter.”

“Thank you, my prince,” said Amber, her eyes moistening from the gesture. Before she knew it she received another hug. “And what was that for?” she asked.

“That was from Father,” he answered, “He said to come back home in one piece.” He then offered one last hug. “That was from me,” he added, breaking off his embrace as he held off tears as he sniffled, “I finally got to meet the auntie who Mother never stopped telling me stories about.”

Unable to hold off tears of her own, she returned his embrace. “Tell your parents thank you,” she sobbed, “and tell them how sorry I am for not telling them how I was these past five years.”

“I will.”

He took off after the hug and returned to the crowd.

“He’s a good lad,” Sargon mused, “Destiny has plans for him, especially with someone from the otherside of the ocean.”

Wiping the tears from her eyes she smirked in amusement, “I thought he is destined for greatness regardless.”

As they began to board their vessels, Horace stopped them. “Before you leave, you never did tell us; what is the name of this new land?”

Sargon turned with an answer, “They call it, Equestria.”

Author's Note

G'day all!

At long last, I finally managed to post this story. It has taken me two years and a half to plan this story out, and now I present it to you. There is a shortage of fanfics of Armello, less so as crossovers, which is a shame because of the story-rich potential it has.

Special thanks to Rated Ponystar and 0_0 for Proofreading.

And for those interested, these are how most of the characters look like (sorry if the images are too big. Can't find anything smaller.):

Scarlett

Thane

Horace

Sana

Mercurio

Sargon

Amber

Elyssia

The rest either has no art or are OCs.