Leandros watches as Shade eats his berries, finally allowing himself to relax. He hopes to build some form of rapport with him. So far, it has been a slow burn, but he can see the potential of them traveling together. A faint smile tugs at his lips, accompanied by a light-hearted snort.

"What?" Shade mumbles, mouth full of berries.

"Just pondering what’s to come." Leandros stands and walks over to the fire, grabbing a stick from the side. He spreads the embers, ensuring the flames stay ablaze, before tossing the stick into the fire and sitting down with a heavy metallic thud.

Shade frowns as he looks down at his now-empty bowl. With a sigh, he turns his attention to the other one filled with the pink liquid. Do I really have to drink this? He glances between his injured leg and Leandros, who simply watches the flames. Yup. With a resigned breath, he grabs the bowl and, in one swift motion, drinks the medicine.

The taste starts off earthy, but it quickly shifts, taking on a mixture of different berry flavors. Licking his lips, he hums in mild surprise. "Huh… that wasn’t as bad as I thought."

"It is good you did not take it on an empty stomach," Leandros remarks, still watching the fire. "It uses what you ate before ingesting the serum as a flavoring. Had you taken it without food, it would have tasted entirely different."

Shade props himself up slightly. "Did you learn to make this yourself?"

Leandros turns his gaze toward him. "Do not move too hastily. The medicine has a strong painkiller built into it. You should not push yourself too hard."

"I’ll be… fine." Shade struggles but still manages to stand, limping over toward the fire before lying down next to it. Close enough to feel its warmth, yet keeping enough distance from Leandros.

Leandros notices but says nothing, watching without turning his head. “No. The medicine… I learned it from my… father?” The thought wavers, slipping from his grasp as soon as he reaches for it. His mind recoils, forcing him away. “…To be honest, I don’t remember where I learned it.” His gaze drops to the ground.

“You don’t remember much, do you?” Shade asks, a hint of amusement lacing his words.

Leandros doesn’t answer immediately. His thoughts churn as he sifts through the haze, recalling fragments—his name, his training. But there’s no depth. No substance. Like memories that don’t belong to him.

“How long have you been here?” Shade’s voice pulls him back.

Leandros blinks. “Sorry?”

Shade gestures vaguely to their surroundings. “How long have you been here?” His hoof motions toward the nearly-melted ice coffin Leandros had emerged from earlier, its presence looming like a question in itself.

Leandros tries to navigate his fogged mind, but the answer remains elusive. “…I don’t know.” He exhales, frustration barely hidden. “Sorry, but my memory seems to be… scattered.” His fingers brush against his chin in thought.

“Scattered?” Shade repeats, curiosity flickering in his voice. Great… he’s a lunatic.

Leandros continues, undeterred. “Some parts are missing. I remember the fundamentals of sword fighting, yet I can’t recall where I learned them. It’s the same with the medicine—I know how to make it, but not who taught me. Not where. Not why.”

“Uh-huh,” Shade deadpans. There goes my chance of getting anywhere. He exhales, shaking his head. “Welp. I’m going to bed. Hopefully (not) I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Leandros simply nods. “As do I. Good night, Shade. I will keep watch.”

Why are you like this? Shade groans internally. “Good night,” he mutters, dragging himself toward his makeshift bed. He lowers himself with a dull thud, shifting until his back is pressed firmly against the cave wall before finally shutting his eyes. Somecreature save me.

Leandros sits in silence, alone once again. The fire before him fades, shrinking into embers, yet the cave around him feels brighter. The tingling at the back of his mind returns. The frost on his hands creeps back.

Suddenly, the cave isn’t a cave anymore. Light floods in as though someone had torn the roof away, exposing it to the sun. He looks down, and his gauntlets are no longer blackened metal. Ice-blue spreads across them, threading with black veins, overtaking the surrounding colours. His palms glow with a misty light, frost curling at his fingertips.

He stares at them. At himself.

What am I?

High up in the towers of Canterlot, Celestia sits at her study desk, deep into paperwork. Hours have passed as she meticulously reviews the reports from the north, ensuring no information is leaked while preparing for what is to come.

A sudden voice breaks her focus.

“Sister, thou hast been at thy paperwork for hours. Perhaps it is time for rest?”

Luna strides through the large bedroom doors, closing the distance between them before wrapping Celestia in a gentle embrace.

Celestia exhales, leaning into the hug. “Oh, Luna, you know I cannot do that.” She pulls back slightly. “We must be ready to depart soon. I simply cannot allow myself to rest.”

Luna sighs, reluctant to let go. “At the very least, thou couldst allow me to help…” Her gaze lingers on her sister’s tired features—she dislikes seeing her this overworked.

Celestia offers a small, reassuring smile. “I am almost finished. Do not worry, I will be fine.” She turns her attention back to the reports spread across her desk.

Most contain the same information—confirmation that the Crystal Empire has returned. That much she already knows. What she is searching for, however, is the return of a certain pony.

Her frown deepens. Where are you hiding?

So far, not a single report has mentioned him.

She’s made sure of it—twice now, she has gone over every single document brought before her, scanning for any sign.

“When are we departing?” Luna’s voice carries a trace of boredom as she reclines on the bed, idly watching the small magical stars drift across Celestia’s ceiling.

“In a month,” Celestia confirms.

Luna bolts upright. “In a month? Why not sooner?” Her tone sharpens with confusion.

Celestia smiles. Always too quick to haste. “We must not act recklessly. I have already sent scouts to verify the reports. This is a delicate matter, and if we leave the castle too soon, ponies will grow suspicious. And you know what they are like when suspicion arises.”

Luna exhales, flopping back onto the bed. “I do…” she echoes, recalling the past—how even the slightest unrest could ripple through the kingdom.

“Well then, I must begin my duties.” She pushes herself up, climbing off the bed in one fluid motion. “If you need anything, dear sister, please let me know.”

“Always,” Celestia murmurs, her focus still fixed on the documents. “I will see you at dinner.”

“See you then.”

With that, Luna steps through the massive bedroom doors, leaving Celestia alone once more.

Sighing, she leans back in her chair. There’s nothing more to go over.

Her gaze drifts toward the balcony. Another day gone…

Rising from her seat, she steps outside, the evening air cool against her coat. Her horn ignites, golden light wrapping around the sun as she focuses her magic. Slowly, it begins its descent, sinking below the horizon.

She watches over Canterlot, her expression softening into quiet pride. The streets below hum with life—ponies of all colours and backgrounds moving about, the last light of day painting the city in a warm glow. A sight to behold.

Letting the moment settle, she finally turns away, stepping back inside. A glance at the clock above her study desk—19:00. Two hours until dinner.

Without hesitation, she moves toward her bedroom doors, stepping into the dimly lit hallway and pulling them shut behind her.

The guards flanking the entrance straighten instantly, hooves snapping to salute.

"Princess," they say in unison, their expressions unreadable, their voices even.

"As you were," Celestia replies smoothly, striding past them.

She knows the castle. Of course she does. She’s lived within these walls for a thousand years. She never gets lost, but it never gets old when she spots a pony who is.

Rounding a corner, she notices a maid standing with her back turned, shifting nervously on her hooves. Clearly unsure of where she is. Celestia quiets her steps, moving forward inch by inch, her expression betraying a touch of mischief.

Just within reach, she clears her throat.

The poor maid startles with a squeak, spinning around before immediately bowing her head, trembling.

“Y-Your Highness!” Her legs barely hold her upright. “I-I’m s-so sorry, I got a bit lost and—”

Lowering her head to meet the pony’s gaze, Celestia offers a reassuring smile. “It’s quite alright, Cherrypie. The castle is big, isn’t it?”

“Y-Yes, Your Highness.”

Celestia watches as Cherry struggles to look her in the eyes. You poor thing. With a soft sigh, she settles onto the floor beside her, draping a wing over the smaller pony’s back. “Hush now. It’s alright.”

The trembling fades, Cherry’s breathing evening out.

“If you’re looking for the maid’s quarters, they’re the third door on the right,” Celestia says, gesturing down the hallway with a nod.

“Thank you, P-Princess.”

Celestia withdraws her wing, allowing Cherrypie to scurry off down the hall.

They’re always so cute.

Rising to her hooves, she continues on her way to the royal library, passing by multiple rooms and stationed guards. Each one straightens the moment they see her, offering a crisp salute. She acknowledges them with a slight nod but does not stop.

Upon reaching the grand doors of the library, the guards stationed there immediately push them open for her.

“Thank you,” she says, dipping her head slightly in gratitude before stepping inside.

The library is massive, its walls lined with towering bookshelves, their spines forming a tapestry of colours and history. Grand staircases sweep up either side, leading to multiple levels, while smaller bookcases divide the vast space down the centre.

A few ponies are scattered throughout, some buried in their books, others jotting down notes by candlelight. As the doors open, a few glance up, but the moment they see her, they quickly return to their work, making no attempt to acknowledge their princess.

Approaching the front desk, Celestia spots a small, elderly beige pony rummaging through a stack of papers. He remains absorbed in his task, only looking up when she is standing directly before him.

“Welcome, Your Highness. I’m sorry about the mess—just trying to finish today’s paperwork before closing up.”

“That’s quite alright. How have you been, Night Lite?”

She’s known him for years, never tiring of the sight of his enthusiasm when it comes to books. Reminds me of another pony.

“It’s been good, Princess. Not as busy lately with school being closed, but I’m keeping myself occupied.”

Hopping down from his chair, he walks around the desk, falling in step with Celestia as they make their way down the the library. “How may I be of assistance?”

“Could you please assist me in finding books on the Crystal Empire?”

“Most certainly! We’ve even had some new additions to the library!” Night Lite’s pace quickens slightly, his enthusiasm evident. Celestia, however, keeps her steps measured. “Would you like to see them?”

“Yes, please.”

They stop at a towering bookshelf, a golden plaque above them reading Histories of Empires.

“I personally tend to these, so this shouldn’t take too long,” Night Lite assures her, climbing onto a ladder. He starts at the top, carefully scanning each title as he works his way down. Books of varying sizes and thicknesses begin to pile up in his hooves.

“This here is what we currently have,” he says proudly, setting the final book on the growing stack. “We do have more coming in from the northern border—where the Crystal Empire used to be.” He pauses before adding, “I must say, though, I’m rather curious about your sudden interest.”

“I am simply refreshing my memory,” Celestia replies with a soft smile. “I was also hoping you might read through them with me.”

Night Lite’s face lights up. “Of course! I just need to grab my coffee!” He jolts away toward his desk.

Celestia watches him go, a fond glimmer in her eyes. Never change.

Turning back to the stack of books, she envelops them in her magic and carries them to a nearby desk. Settling in, she lifts the top book—a hefty tome titled Empires and Cities. The cover boasts intricate portraits of various cities and architectural marvels from different eras, each one steeped in history.

Opening it, her eyes fall on the introduction. This book was written 1,247 years after the ascension of the Alicorn Sisters.

“Nearly a thousand years ago,” she murmurs, tilting her head slightly. Am I really that old? A quiet snort escapes her as she shakes her head.

The sound of approaching hoofsteps pulls her from her thoughts.

“Alright, sorry about that. Now—let’s begin.”

Night Lite settles into the seat across from her, shifting to get comfortable before placing his coffee on the desk.

For the next two odd hours, they pored over the history of the Crystal Empire, skimming through book after book in search of anything relevant. From its founding to its golden age, and finally, to its tragic disappearance under King Sombra’s rule.

“And that’s everything we have here on the Empire,” Night Lite said, motioning to the pile of books stacked on the table. “Is there anything else I can help with?”

Celestia glanced around. The library had emptied, the only sounds left were the faint flicker of candlelight and the distant ticking of the grand clock. It was just the two of them now.

“No, thank you. That will be all for today. I appreciate your help, Night Lite.”

“You’re welcome, Your Highness. Anytime.” He dipped his head slightly before pushing back his chair and gathering the books. Years of practice allowed him to stack them perfectly onto his back without a single one toppling.

“Thank you. I’ll see you next time,” Celestia said, rising from her seat and making her way toward the exit.

“Bye, Princess.” He waved a hoof before turning back to his task, already focused on sorting the books back to their rightful places.

Approaching the grand library doors, Celestia lifts her gaze to the ornate clock mounted above the entrance. The longer hand hovers just before twelve, the shorter pointing at eight. Just in time for dinner.

With a flick of her magic, the doors open smoothly, and she steps into the quiet halls, her hooves barely making a sound as she makes her way toward the royal dining room.

As she nears the doors, muffled voices drift through—it’s Luna, speaking with the maids. Pushing the doors open, Celestia steps inside. A long banquet table stretches before her, adorned with an array of familiar dishes, each prepared with careful attention to detail. Across the room, Luna dismisses the last of the maids before turning to greet her with a proud smile.

"Welcome, dear sister." Her voice is warm, her pride unmistakable. "I have prepared thy favourite meals." She gestures to the spread, watching expectantly. "I do hope you enjoy."

Celestia steps closer, taking in every detail—the golden crusts, the delicate pastries, the rich aromas curling into the air. She turns back to Luna with a fond smile. "My Luna, this looks wonderful."

Luna straightens slightly, pride lingering in the way she holds herself. "They are just the way I like them." Celestia smiling.

Luna exhales, satisfaction evident. "Now then, let us dine."

They settle across from one another, the quiet punctuated only by the soft clink of utensils and the occasional hum of approval. The warmth of the meal fills the room, a comforting contrast to the weight of the day’s work.

After finishing a savoury, Luna dabs at her muzzle with a napkin before speaking. "How is the paperwork fairing?" She regards Celestia fully now, her plate momentarily forgotten.

Celestia swallows the last bite of her apple pie, mirroring her sister’s gesture with her own napkin before answering. "It was slow, but at least I am now finished. Trying to keep The Crystal Empire’s return quiet is no easy task." A hint of weariness lingers in her tone, though some of the burden has eased from her posture.

"I can imagine. Nor was it when it first vanished without a trace." Luna glances down at the table, selecting another treat before continuing. "And your search in the library?"

Celestia sighs, just barely. "Most of it was history I already knew. Every record of Sombra ends the same—he vanished along with his empire. Yet I strongly suspect he has returned with it."

Luna catches on immediately, her expression darkening. "You just don’t know where that beast is." Venom laces her words.

"Correct… I have instructed the scouts to keep their distance. They are to observe only." She lifts a fresh piece of pie onto her plate, her voice steady but firm. "We shall know soon enough if there is any sign of him."

"There will be… He’s always been a plague. We will defeat him just as we once did." Luna’s voice carries a quiet certainty, unwavering in its resolve.

"Hopefully, it won’t come to that." Celestia’s gaze drops to her plate, her expression betraying something deeper. All those years of knowing him, tarnished by his actions. And for what?

Luna watches her sister carefully. "You think we can save him?" She sets down her utensils, giving Celestia her full attention. "Sister, I don’t th—"

"We must try!" The weight of Celestia’s sorrow presses into her words. "We must…"

The silence that follows is thick, charged with unspoken history. When Celestia lifts her head, their eyes meet—pleading against reason. "We have to at least try."

Luna doesn’t speak immediately, her expression unreadable. When she does, her voice is measured. "We will see. But I will not endanger anypony if it goes south. And I trust that you will follow?"

"Yes." Celestia’s features remain steady, unwavering. "If it comes to that." She picks up her utensils once more, resuming her meal as if the conversation hadn’t shifted something in the air. "But you’re right… We will see."

The remainder of dinner carries on as usual, the two diarchs discussing their duties, their words flowing as they always do. Yet, beneath the surface, the tension lingers—a quiet presence neither of them acknowledges.

As the last plates are cleared, they part ways. Luna departs for night court, while Celestia retreats to her chambers, the weight of the evening settling over her shoulders like a shadow.

Walking over to one of her dressers, Celestia removes her golden regalia piece by piece, setting them down with quiet care. She lingers in front of the mirror, studying her reflection. The fatigue is there—evident in the slight droop of her eyes, in the way her mane, though ever-flowing, seems to lack its usual brilliance.

Sitting down, she lifts a brush in her magic and begins running it through her hair, the gentle rhythm soothing. A quiet hum escapes her lips, a melody from long ago, one she barely remembers where she first heard.

Moments like these are rare… Even as ruler of the largest nation in the world, even as a figure of legend, there are times she simply wishes to exist—away from the weight of duty, from the ever-present expectations. They forget that Luna and I are still just ponies too…

Finishing up, she sets the brush aside and rises, stepping out onto the balcony. The cool night air greets her as she watches the moon climb into the sky, Luna’s stars twinkling to life one by one. You were so little… The memories drift in—of laughter, of a filly stumbling through her first attempts at raising the moon.

She stays for a few moments, letting nostalgia settle before turning away. The bed before her is soft and inviting, the sheets mirroring her snow-white coat, the pillows a gentle golden hue, like the sun she shepherds each day.

Climbing under the covers, she gazes at the little glowing stars scattered across the ceiling, their slow movement lulling her thoughts. Perhaps I do deserve a vacation… A quiet chuckle escapes her before sleep pulls her under, embracing her in its warmth.

Shade’s eyes slowly open to the same cave as the day before. The air is surprisingly warm, despite the absence of a fire.

“Grgghhh…” A low groan escapes him as his body reminds him of yesterday’s punishment. His limbs feel frozen stiff, every ligament and muscle aching at the slightest movement. Blinking the sleep from his eyes, he forces himself upright. The cave looks much the same as before—untouched, save for the snowy footprints leading to Leandros, who is crouched by the entrance, filling another bowl with berries.

Shade exhales and lets himself sink back down. So it wasn’t a dream…

“I hope you slept well.” That same deep, steady voice. Shade cracks an eye open to see Leandros approaching, two bowls in hand. The armoured figure kneels beside him, setting them down within reach. “I gathered more food and prepared another dose of medicine,” Leandros adds.

“Mhmm,” is all Shade manages. Mornings have never been his strong suit. Now, he’s stuck in the middle of nowhere with a stranger—one he still doesn’t fully trust. He isn’t happy about it, but compared to what usually greets him in the mornings… this isn’t the worst.

“The medicine has taken effect nicely. I inspected your wound—it’s mostly healed overnight.”

Leandros settles beside Shade, much to the pony’s discomfort. “But I’d still recommend drinking one more bowl. The painkiller’s effects have worn off.”

A realisation clicks in Shade’s mind. So that’s why it didn’t hurt as much yesterday.

Opening his eyes fully, he reaches for the bowl of berries, tilts his head back, and stuffs his mouth with as many as he can manage. He swallows them in one swift motion before moving to the pink remedy, downing it in a series of heavy gulps.

Almost instantly, warmth spreads through his body. He feels the concoction taking effect, the pain dulling, fading… until it’s gone entirely.

“You have to teach me how to make that. That stuff is gold.”

Shade sits up, trying his best to ignore the discomfort, though he’s terrible at hiding it. Leandros notices and shifts slightly, giving him space.

“You still do not trust me?” Leandros asks, his tone curious rather than offended.

Shade exhales, his voice careful, measured. “Listen… I do appreciate what you’ve done for me so far. And for that, I’m grateful. But please don’t take this the wrong way—I don’t know you.”

Leandros remains silent, his gaze fixed on the cave wall. Simply listening.

“And I haven’t had the best experience when it comes to trusting anycreature, so… it’ll take time.”

“…Noted.” Leandros finally turns, his helm shifting slightly as he regards Shade. “Anything else?”

“What?” Confusion flickers in Shade’s voice.

“Anything el—”

“No… I say I don’t trust you, and you just brush it off?” Shade interrupts, incredulous.

“I am not brushing it off. I merely respect your position.”

Shade lets out a short, exasperated chuckle, his frustration rising. “You see that? That isn’t normal.”

Leandros remains utterly still, unreadable. A wall of matte-black steel and silence.

“I’ve never met somecreature that’s so… I don’t even know anymore. But that—” he gestures at him, “—that isn’t normal.”

The silence stretches between them. Shade stares into the abyss of Leandros’ T-shaped visor, hating that he can’t read him.

“Your wounds run deep… don’t they?”

Shade freezes.

Leandros doesn’t press further. He doesn’t need to. The words land exactly where they’re meant to. Silence settles over the cave, thick and unmoving. Shade says nothing—lost in thought—while Leandros offers him the space to do so.

Then, shifting his weight, Leandros rises. The movement is slow, deliberate, the quiet grind of metal filling the still air.

“I won’t be long.”

He doesn’t wait for a response. Doesn’t turn. Just strides toward the cave’s entrance and disappears into the cold.

Shade remains still, even as the air grows lighter in Leandros’ absence. His gaze drifts—tracking the cave walls, flicking down to his injured fetlock. It feels better. Still sore, but manageable.

The one time somecreature actually helps you, and you still manage to fuck it up…

With a sigh, he rolls onto his back, staring at the jagged ceiling.

“Why…” The word slips out—soft, almost bitter. Frustration laced with confusion.

Shaking his head, he rolls over and pushes himself upright, testing his weight on all four hooves. The pain in his fetlock warns against sudden movement, but it’s nothing like yesterday. Slow, careful, he begins pacing in a wide circle, forcing his body to adjust.

True to his word, Leandros returns not long after, the sharp chill of winter clinging to his armour. Ice particles scatter from his gauntlets as he shakes them off.

He takes one look at Shade’s movement and speaks.

“I admire your determination,” he says, tone even, “but it might still be a bit early.”

Brushing Leandros off with a flick of his hoof, Shade keeps moving, though not without a few grunts. “I need my body to be functional. Doesn’t matter if it hurts, as long as I can move.” He grits his teeth, testing his weight on the injured hoof. The sting flares up, but he pushes through it.

Leandros watches, arms crossing over his chest. “Well then. We should plan.”

Shade doesn’t stop, his focus locked on his steps. “Plan for what?”

“Well… we can’t stay here forever. We need to decide where to go next.”

Shade exhales sharply. He makes a good point. Slowing slightly, his brow furrows. “Mhmm. Let’s just survey the surrounding area first. We can decide from there.”

“Agreed,” Leandros nods, then adds, “But make sure you don’t hurt yourself any further.”

"Uh-huh." Shade huffs, not liking being told what to do. "You don’t need to do that. I can look after myself."

"I am only trying to look after you."

"I get that, but… I don’t need to be babied." He finally looks up at Leandros, annoyance flickering across his face.

"Noted." Leandros doesn’t argue, his tone as steady as ever. "I will begin preparing."

"And I’ll be here. Walking in circles…" Shade mutters, shaking his head before resuming his slow, deliberate steps.

He hears Leandros leaving again, the soft crunch of snow marking his departure. Silence settles over the cave, pressing in like the cold outside.

Shade stops, glancing toward the entrance. This is going to be something else… hopefully…

Deep in the heart of the northern frost stands the newly emerged Crystal Empire. At its outermost edges, four ponies stand, their white pelts blending seamlessly into the endless expanse of snow. Their masks, matching the colour of their fur, shield their faces from the bitter cold, while saddle bags filled with equipment weigh against their sides.

“We set up camp here. No closer,” Snow Globe commands, his voice steady with years of experience. He is older than the others, a veteran of the cold, having spent most of his military career navigating unforgiving tundras like this. The three ponies beside him—Sky, Pyre, and Lighter—were hoofpicked for this mission, each chosen for their skills and resilience.

“We rest tonight. We begin scouting at dawn.” His words carry the weight of authority, as does the thick, grown-out beard covering his muzzle.

The others nod, silent but alert. They look nearly identical in the enchanted armour issued to them, their features obscured beneath layers of protective gear. Only their eyes, sharp and watchful, give them distinction. Snow swirls around them, the wind howling in the distance. The Empire looms ahead, a glimmering spectre in the frozen wasteland.

“We don’t know what may be found.”

The four ponies begin setting up camp, their movements practiced and efficient. Above the distant mountains, the sun lingers at the edge of the horizon, casting its last feeble warmth over the frozen land. Soon, the cold will deepen, and the north will reclaim its grasp.

“What do you think we’ll find, Chief?” Lighter asks, tearing open a sack and pulling out tent poles, setting them into the snow with firm, steady hooves.

Snow Globe exhales, his breath visible in the frigid air. “I’m not sure… but I doubt it’ll be anything good.”

He knows more than he’s letting on. The princesses were clear—his subordinates weren’t to know the full extent of their mission. Not yet. And he understands why. If they knew what might lurk in the Empire’s shadow, would they still be so eager?

“Don’t be like that, Chief! We just got here.” Pyre’s voice rings with youthful enthusiasm as she tosses a heavy tarp over the half-assembled tent frame. “We may as well enjoy our vacation!”

“Vacation…” Snow Globe snorts, shaking his head as he rummages through one of his saddlebags and pulls out his orders—sealed, stamped, and heavy with meaning.

This is anything but a vacation.

Looking up, he watches as the first tent is already standing. They work fast. That, at least, is reassuring.

Stepping inside, he retrieves a small magic crystal from his saddlebag and tosses it onto the snow-covered floor. With a low hum, the crystal activates, its glow creeping outward as the ice melts away. The water seeps into the ground, replaced by a solid crystalline surface—smooth, sturdy, and just warm enough to stave off the cold.

Snow Globe exhales through his nose. He never liked how much the Equestrian military relied on magic. Made them soft. Too used to convenience.

Pulling out his bedroll, he lays it down in the centre of the tent, placing his bags beside it with habitual precision. The motions are familiar, routine. They keep his mind from wandering too far.

Stepping outside again, he finds the other tents already up, their forms stark against the deepening twilight. The last slivers of sun barely crest the distant peaks, sinking into the horizon like a dying ember.

“Alright,” he calls out. “Get to bed early. We move at 04:00. And I’d better not have to drag any of you out of bed.”

“Yes, sir,” the three voices return from within their tents, muffled by the fabric walls.

Snow Globe lingers a moment before turning back inside. His gaze drifts over his belongings, settling on the envelope bearing the royal seal.

One more before retirement…

He stares at the wax stamp, expression unreadable. The wind outside howls against the tent walls, distant yet ever-present.

After a moment, he pushes the thought aside, lowering himself onto his bedroll. Sleep would come eventually. It always did.

Author's Note

Let me know what you think. Thank you.