The Chronicles of Dark Star: A Blade of Redemption

Chapters

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Epilogue

Chapter 1

The night was clear and crisp, one of the lovely nights late in the spring when the warmth of the passing days building towards summer vanished into the cool pallor of night that seemed to long only for the return of winter. The moon hung high over the dense forest, the silvery half-sphere peeking through the treetops to shine its pale light upon the gentle moss and broken branches of the forest floor; a cool wind sighed gently through the budding branches, causing the whole forest to shift and murmur like a crowd of ponies anxious to hear news of an important event, still unsure if it would be good news or bad. The wind caressed the trees and moved lower into the forest, teasing loose leaves from their resting places and taking them on a slow dance through the air as if putting on display the remnants of the year before; the old, discolored leaves rose and fell on the fickle breeze, swirling to and fro between trees and bushes until finally they entered a small clearing. The breeze increased slightly, sending the leaves careening through space haphazardly, swirling around the gentle corner of a low set hut only to come to rest against a large black hoof.

The pony to whom the hoof belonged glanced down at the leaves, his green eyes impassive as he lifted his hoof and allowed the leaves to continue on their journey. With the barest hint of a smile he glanced at the hut behind him, the wind stirring the black cloak he wore around himself as he reflected on the modest home he had built for himself deep in a forest far from Canterlot, far from Ponyville, far from anything; he had not wanted uninvited guests showing up randomly. Guests had questions, and so far, he had no answers. The windows of the hut were now dark, the candles inside extinguished for the last time, and the door was locked firmly; he couldn’t explain why, but the need to do so had overwhelmed his rational nature and had ended with him placing a spell upon the whole building so that nopony else would ever be able to enter the structure without him.

He sighed softly; his heart, which had longed for this moment more and more with each passing day, now felt heavy and uncertain. This has been my home for the better part of a year, now… do I dare leave it? His green eyes took in the clearing slowly, memorizing each point of interest in it; the low-slung hut, mostly covered in sod that had kept him safe and warm throughout the winter; the massive oak trees that made up a good portion of this section of forest; the low bushes, barely in sight in the gentle moonlight, that grew wild berries and had been a good part of his diet for most of the fall… all of this had become part of his world in the past ten months, and now he was ready to walk out of it. He shifted slightly. Or am I?

Life in the forest was easy enough; there were many wild plants in addition to the berries that he had become acquainted with harvesting and cooking, and had made a reasonably comfortable life for himself. In truth, it would be incredibly easy for him to fade away, to stay here forever in the forest, far from civilization… far from the reasons he was here in the first place.

But…

The black pony turned and walked to a nearby stream that trickled merrily through the forest, a stream that he had drank from countless times in the recent past, a feature that had made this spot such an ideal place for his small home. His hooves pressed into the soft soil at its edge and he threw back his hood before gazing down into it as he had done a thousand times before.

His reflection stared back at him, his green eyes bright in the moonlight, the dark blue streaks in his black mane hidden in the blackness of the night. Everything could be simple. He wouldn’t have to face what he had done, would never have to see the faces of those he’d betrayed, those he’d harmed. He could spend his days in meditation, as he had been, cleansing his heart and mind of the hatred that had consumed them; he could spend his days practicing with his blade, finding the inner peace that all swordsponies sought and then living the rest of his days quietly until finally he passed from this world, never harming it or its inhabitants ever again.

But if I stay here… I will never find it.

He could feel his reflection watching him closely as the night wind touched his mane again, the cool breeze touching his cheek like the caress of the Princess of the Night herself… and he felt a smile touch his lips again.

If I stay here…

He turned from the stream and with a small pulse of midnight blue magic he pulled the hood of his cloak up around his face, sending it into deep shadow. If he stayed here he may indeed never have to face the world again… but it would mean that he would never atone for what he’d done. He had left the company of the one pony he loved in the world to find who he truly was, to go on a journey of self discovery- a journey that had so far had very little journeying in it.

And if I never leave this forest... I’ll never see her again.

It was the one thought that was with him constantly; the one thing that had made the fight against the hatred that had poisoned him worth-while, and the one thing that drove him to go back into the world- the love of a Princess. She believed in him, even if he did not, and if there was one thing he would never do again in his life it was disappoint the mare he loved.

He shifted his cloak on his shoulders and gave his body a shake, adjusting the belt he wore around his hips so that the white and silver sword that hung there settled a little more comfortably; then, with a final glance at the hut he turned his back on his peaceful life and set off into the forest with no plan, nor even any idea of where he was going. There were only two things he was sure of; that Canterlot lay southwest of him by a great distance… and that it was not his destination.

Not yet, at least.

Just before he passed out of the clearing, he turned his eyes skyward once more, the half moon pale above the treetops as he smiled at it. “Luna,” he said softly. “Be with me.”

Then he turned his eyes to the forest, and disappeared into the blackness between the trees. He didn’t know what he wanted to do or where he was going to go, but his hooves had started by carrying him to the north, and that seemed as good a direction as any to start with.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~
One Week Later
~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The night was dark, darker than any Belle Pepper could ever remember. Somehow, despite the full moon overhead, everything except her family’s wagon was drenched in shadow, covered in shade so deep that the light from the four torches attached to the wagon itself seemed to illuminate less than they should. Belle cast her brown eyes upwards at the dark trees that towered above them, surrounding the forest path they traveled, and in spite of her promise to her father that she would be brave, she felt the cold whispers of fear gently caress her neck.

“Belle? Belle Pepper, don’t you fall behind now,” her father’s strong voice called out from the front of the wagon, and Belle jumped slightly in spite of herself. With one last glance at the trees she galloped forward into the ring of firelight around the wagon.

“Sorry Pa,” she said, tossing her dark green mane out of her eyes. “I was just-,”

“You was just daydreamin’ again,” her father said, his voice heavy with disapproval. “You cain’t be doin’ that on a run like this, Belle, an’ especially not at night.” Belle felt her ears droop at the cool stare she received from her father. “You’re the one what wanted t’ come along, ain’tcha? I told you to stay home an’ mind the farm, but you wanted t’ come and see what things is all about. Well, if’n you don’t pay attention, missy, this business’ll be done an’ you’ll have wasted a trip.”

“Now Tom, go easy on the poor girl.” Belle’s deep, earthy brown eyes turned to her mother, who gave her a wink with one pink eye before speaking again. “This is her first time out to the market in Withersville, and the filly’s excited.” Belle gave her mother a grateful smile; if there was one thing Pear Blossom was good at, it was keeping her husband in line.

Her father, Tomato Vine, glanced at his wife skeptically, but Pear simply batted her eyes at him, and within a few moments the large farm-pony sighed and pulled harder against the wagon he was hitched to. “Pear, you are spoilin’ that girl somethin’ fierce. Gonna come a day when I won’t get a lick o’ respect outta her.”

“Of COURSE I’m spoiling her, Tom,” the soft green mare said, tossing her white mane over her shoulder. “She’s our only child, and as sweet a filly as anypony could ask for; so I think your fears of not being respected are a little unfounded.” Belle blushed at her mother’s compliment, bringing the green color in her coat a dozen shades darker than her mother’s instead of just a few.

“Awww Mom...”

Tom turned back just long enough to give his daughter his best “Daddy knows best” stare, and Belle couldn’t help but giggle at him as she met his gaze, brown eyes to brown eyes; it was one of the few traits that the father and daughter shared. Tom sighed at Belle’s reaction and turned back to the road, his hay-colored mane matted with sweat and sticking to his tan coat. “Well, I sure hope you’re right, Pear… otherwise, this farm of ours ain’t gonna be worth a hill o’ beans when she takes over.”

“Now hush that mouth of yours, Tomato Vine!” Pear’s eyes flashed dangerously in the torch light. “You know as well as I do that it isn’t for certain that Belle will have to take over anything, and even if she does, it won’t be for a long, long time. Don’t you start in on her; she’s almost a full-grown mare now, and I insist she take in the world before she gets chained to some farm.”

Tomato looked sideways at his wife again, and he looked less than pleased… but after a moment he sighed. “I knew I was in trouble when I married you, Pear,” he muttered, and Pear Blossom smiled happily.

“You got that right, farm-pony!” she teased.

Belle couldn’t help but giggle at her parents; they always bantered back and forth, and her mother always won, because as tough as her father could sound sometimes, she knew he was a big softie in his heart.

She was about to comment on it herself when a chilling howl rose out of the forest to her left, freezing her and her family in their tracks. She felt the cool pinpricks of fear run down her shoulders as the howl rose in a crescendo and then fell away, until the forest was once again silent.

Ahead of her, she heard her father swear under his breath. “By the sun, move girls!” he said. “Get ahead of me and for the love of Celestia stay in the light!”

Pear and Belle didn’t waste any time arguing, even good-naturedly; they hurried ahead and took up positions on either side of Tom. “Good,” he said, his voice low. “Now, listen to me. That was a timberwolf howl.”

“T-timberwolf?” Belle whimpered; suddenly she regretted her promise to be brave, and wanted nothing more than to jump in the back of the wagon and hide.

“Yes Belle, a timberwolf.” He turned his eye to his daughter, and when he spoke his tone was firm but unhurried. “You ‘member what I told you ‘bout timberwolves?”

Belle nodded slightly, her eyes wide. “T-timberwolves are critters made of wood and magic; they can run faster than you, fight harder than you, and see and smell better than you.”

“An’ what did I tell you to do if you ever saw one?”

“I-if you see a timberwolf, it’s already too late, and you’d better get set for a fight.”

“We haven’t seen these yet; what do we do?”

Belle’s eyes snapped back into focus. Her father was right; they hadn’t seen them yet, just heard them; in fact, there was a good chance the wolves didn’t even know where they were. “If you hear a timberwolf, run like hay for the nearest town, and pray they don’t find your scent.”

“’Atta girl, Belle. Now let’s git movin’, OK?”

“…Okay.”

“No stopping’, OK?”

“O-okay.”

Tom’s eyes were firm, now. “Even for me or ma, understand Belle? If’n one of us gets taken, you keep on runnin’.”

Belle’s eyes widened as another howl erupted out of the woods on their right, closer than the last one. “Pa NO, I won’t leave you or Mom out here to be eaten by-,”

“You will do as you’re told, girl,” her father said, his tone harsh. “I won’t have no daughter o’ mine get et by no timberwolf. If it comes to it you’re gonna run, Belle, you an’ your mother, an’ you’re NOT gonna look back, y’hear?” He turned his eyes on her mother. “D’ya hear me, Pear?”

Her mother was silent for a long moment, and Belle almost peeked around her father’s huge form to see what was taking so long; but when Pear spoke, her voice was choked with tears. “I hear you, Tom,” she said. “I’ll… run.”

“You’d best,” Tom said, rolling his shoulders in the harness. “Now, let’s get moving; don’t run yet, but we’re canterin’ at the least.” Belle nodded, and together the family set off at a brisk pace.

Another howl rent the air off to their left again, this time even closer; Belle recoiled from the sound, as if it were a physical force that could hurt her just as much as the wolves themselves could. Her father’s eye found her, and she tried to give him a brave smile… but the fear was too much for her, and she knew it; she could feel the tears welling up in her eyes as the family hurried down the road.

The forest was silent for a long while, the only sound in the air the clopping of hooves and the creak of the wagon’s wheels as they moved, and after ten minutes or so, Belle felt herself relax. “I haven’t heard the wolves in a while,” she said softly. “Maybe… maybe they found something else to chase.”

Suddenly, a half a dozen howls exploded from the forest road behind them; the place where they had been not twenty minutes before, and Tom swore loudly. “A’ight, we’re runnin’! Run, girls, like yer lives depend on it!” He heaved against the wagon and it shot forward, pulled along by Tomato Vine’s incredible strength. Belle and her mother raced alongside him as the howls suddenly doubled in number. “Sounds like we got us a whole pack o’ wolves on our tail, Pear,” Tom huffed; he’d been pulling that wagon most of the day, and Belle knew her father was tired as it was- a full-on run pulling the cart wasn’t going to be easy, even on the tough Tom Vine.

The sounds of the pack were growing closer now, and as Belle looked back they came into view; huge, horrible creatures with no skin and branches for bones, their razor-sharp thorn teeth snapping and gnashing. The green pony felt the fear in her heart explode outwards, chilling her to the bones and forcing the tears in her eyes to the surface as her hooves pounded against the ground.

Faster and faster the pony family ran, the torches on their wagon guttering and failing as they bolted away from the hungry timberwolves. Belle’s breath came in fast, ragged draws, and sooner than she would have thought possible for a farm pony, her legs began to burn and her sides ache; she glanced at her mother and father, and she felt her hopes for escape die.

Her father was falling farther and farther behind, his face a mask of pain as he tried to pull the wagon along with him; her mother had fallen back to run beside him, her eyes glistening with tears of her own.

“Tom, let the wagon go!” she pleaded. “Leave it, we’ll come back for it! The timberwolves don’t want our vegetables!”

The earth pony watched her for a few more steps before nodding. “All right, Pear; unhook me.”

Pear Blossom nodded and reached her head in close to Tom’s body, grasping the straps that held him to the wagon in her teeth and giving a sharp yank, trying to free Tom from the wagon; but the straps wouldn’t budge while he was moving, and as much as Pear yanked and cried and swore and bit at them, nothing would make those straps come undone except for stopping where they were to undo them.

“Mom! Pa!” Belle turned around and ran back to her parents, falling in beside them again.

“Belle, you RUN,” her father said angrily. “Run while we distract ‘em! Celestia as my witness, they won’t get all of us!” He reached down with his own teeth and bit at the straps, but even his larger teeth were no match for them.

Belle shook her head, forgetting her earlier promise as tears streamed down her cheeks. “No Pa, NO! I won’t leave you!”

Tom looked about to argue with her, but as he glanced ahead at the road his eyes widened. “TARNATION!!” He dug in both front hooves and slammed into the wagon, using his own body as a brake; the wagon slid a good twenty to thirty feet with Tom attached to the front until it slid to a stop, Belle and Pear looping back to hover close to his side.

“Pa?! Are you OK?!” Belle asked, her eyes wide with shock. To her relief her father coughed and nodded.

“Yeah, I’m fine… not that it’ll do us much good…” He raised his head, his eyes determined; Belle followed her father’s gaze ahead of them… and her heart sank even more.

A line of timberwolves stood across the road, their hollow eyes shadows in the bright moonlight; the torches on the family’s wagon were completely out now, and in the light of the moon the wolves were even scarier than before. Belle felt the icy touch of fear return to her; her muscles burned, sweat drenched her mane, and she knew that there was no way that she could fight off even one of these beasts. She stared at them, unable to pry her eyes away, even as her mother whimpered something about them being surrounded.

Her father grunted as he stood and unstrapped himself from the wagon, a simple task now that he was no longer moving; he stepped away from the large wooden vehicle and in front of Belle. “Stay behind me, Belle,” he whispered. “If they attack, they’ll try to go for you first since you’re the smallest, so keep yer eyes open an’ kick anything that comes near.” She could hear the determination in his voice… but there was fear, as well. Somehow, that scared her more than the wolves did.

The wolves stared at them, shifting impatiently from paw to paw, milling about them in a circle; Belle had enough time to estimate that there were around fifteen wolves all together… more than enough to rend the three ponies to shreds. The thought closed Belle’s throat, and she sobbed silently. So… this is it. Eaten by timberwolves… that’s the most horrible thing I can think of…

She looked at her mother, huddled close by her side; Pear looked down at her with tear-soaked eyes and tried her best to give an encouraging smile to her daughter. “Don’t you worry, Belle darling… It should be over quick. The wolves want to… to kill as quickly as possible… so it probably won’t hurt too much…”

There was a flurry of motion, and the wolves were moving as one, darting in from all sides in a suddenly rush of sound like a stiff wind rifling through thin trees; one wolf in particular raced ahead of the others and launched himself into the air, his paws extended, his mouth open wide to take a bite out of Tom.

Belle squeezed her eyes shut, and prayed that death would come swiftly…

…but death didn’t come swiftly; at least, not for Belle Pepper and her family.

Instead of the rending of flesh, as she’d expected to hear, Belle heard an exceedingly loud crunch!!! that echoed through the clearing; it surprised her enough that her eyes shot open just in time to see the airborne wolf buckle on one side and go flying the opposite direction… as if somepony had kicked it in mid-air harder than any pony could ever kick. She watched as its body rolled several times before coming to a stop; as soon as it did, the branches began to disassemble themselves, all falling apart as the magic holding the wolf together unraveled.

The other wolves continued their charge, heedless of their fallen companion, and suddenly a bright white light blazed behind the pony family. They turned their heads in surprise, shielding their eyes with their hooves; the light stopped the wolves in their tracks, their forward advance turning into growling and whining and gnashing of teeth.

Then the light was gone, and from behind their wagon a dark shape darted; it leaped into the clearing between the family and the wolves, and through her light-dazzled eyes Belle could barely make out that it appeared to have four hooves beneath a piece of long, flowing fabric. The wolves hesitated, unsure of this newcomer… but it didn’t take them long to choose it as their new target; it was alone, standing away from the wagon and the family, therefore making itself easy pickings.

“Watch out!” Tom shouted, but the figure paid him no mind as the wolves advanced rapidly, barks and howls of glee echoing around the forest.

The first wolf reached the figure… and there was a rasping sound, similar to the sound Pa’s ax made when he was sharpening it on the whetstone. A brilliant white light flashed from the figure, and Belle watched in awe as the timberwolf’s head sailed away from the rest of its body to land near them.

The rest of the wolves hesitated again, and as Belle’s eyes adjusted again to the night, she saw what the white light had been; it was a sword, a long, slender blade shining coldly in the full moon’s light, and it was being held aloft by a dark blue aura of magic that cast a gentle illumination on the figure- a pony wearing a black cloak, his or her face hidden from view. The blade floated to the figure’s left side, where the wolves were closest.

“What in…?” Tom whispered.

“Is that… a pony?” Pear whispered back.

The wolves whined and barked and milled… and finally they charged the figure, over a dozen large, angry timberwolves, all bent on one thing; the destruction of the figure standing before them. Belle winced, but could not turn her eyes away, even if she was certain that this pony was dead.

Two wolves attacked at once, closing in on the mystery pony from two directions; the blade flicked with incredible precision, slicing through the neck of one before whirling across the pony’s back to stab the other through the top of its wooden skull. Without missing a single movement the sword drew out of the skull as the pony stepped over the fallen body, turning as it did so and whipping the sword over its back; another wolf had leaped at it from behind… and directly into the path of the sword’s blade, shearing through the wolf’s legs and head.

A wolf darted in to snap at the pony’s legs; the pony lifted its hooves just in time, bringing the full force of its body down upon the wolf with enough force that the wolf yelped as its wooden bones crunched beneath the weight of the cloaked pony. The floating sword made one, precise cut, and the wolf fell silent.

Two or three more wolves tried their luck, each attacking while it thought the pony was distracted, and each fell to the blazing quicksilver arc that the sword left wherever it went. Belle watched in absolute awe as the wolves regrouped on the other side of the clearing, their numbers down by almost half; they growled angrily at the figure in the cloak, but they still didn’t look ready to retreat.

The sword flicked back and forth twice, then hovered before the cloaked figure; then suddenly, with a light bright enough that the pony family had to cover their eyes again, the blade burst into bright flames, a blazing inferno that filled the glade with dancing red and orange light. The wolves flinched away from the fire, their aggressive growls turning into whines of submission, but it was too late; the pony lowered its head and jerked it to the side. The sword obliged, laying over on its side and flying at the group of wolves, spinning the blade around the hilt so fast that it looked as though it was a single hoop of fire. The pony jerked its head again, and the blade dipped lower, smashing into the remaining wolves with the crunch of wood and yelps of pain; their dry, tinder-like bodies burst into flame almost immediately as the sword plowed through them, smashing them to bits as the fire burned them.

Then the yelps fell silent, and the blazing sword stopped spinning, rising above the broken wooden bodies of its foes to hover above them, burning with victory. Then, just as suddenly as it had ignited, the sword went out, and Belle was plunged again into darkness.

“Pa?!” she said in panic.

“I’m here, Belle,” he said quietly. “Hush for a moment, girl.” She felt more than saw him turn away from her. “Stranger?” He called. “That was… um… mighty kind o’ you, helpin’ us out an’ all.” There was no response. Her father cleared his throat. “Ahem… well, uh… I guess we’d like t’ thank you, if’n you’re… still here…”

Suddenly, the torches on their wagon sprang to life in a burst of fire and light, causing the whole family to jump… but Belle’s eyes were drawn ahead of them, where the cloaked pony stood not ten feet away, the darkness of its hood concealing its identity. The sword was nowhere to be seen, and Belle found herself wondering where it had gone.

Tom rubbed his eyes with a hoof. “Consarnit… y’all coulda warned us that you were gonna light them torches…”

To Belle’s surprise, the figure chuckled softly and spoke. “My apologies. I haven’t been around other ponies in quite a while.” The figure was male, she realized; and he had a deep, musical voice that somehow immediately put her at ease.

Her father sighed and nodded. “Sorry… it’s just been quite an evenin’,” he said. After a moment, he mustered a smile for the strange, cloaked pony. “Well, you have our undyin’ gratitude, sir,” he said, bowing his head low. “If it weren’t for you, them wolves woulda made an easy meal of us.”

The figure waved a hoof in dismissal. “Please, do not thank me. I was here, and was able to help. It was the right thing to do; I don’t deserve your thanks.”

“Well sure you do!” Pear said from Tom’s other side. “You killed all those timberwolves, by yourself! That was absolutely amazing!” Her eyes were still wide from shock, but Belle agreed whole-heartedly with her mother.

Now the figure shook his head slowly. “No… please. No more thanks. I truly do not deserve your praise.”

Pear opened her mouth again, but Tom raised a hoof. “Pear… just let ‘im be,” he said quietly. The green and white pony looked at her husband in surprise, but the look in Tom’s eyes wasn’t angry or sullen or jealous; it was a look of respect. “Jus’ let ‘im be.” Pear’s eyes went from her husband to the stranger and back again before she sighed sharply and turned away. Tom nodded before looking back to the stranger.

“Well stranger; is there anything you need? We’re farm folk, an’ we’re cartin’ our goods t’ the market in Withersville.”

The black-cloaked pony tilted his head. “Is that the town to the north? Withersville?”

“That’s it. Only town fer miles around.”

The stranger thought for a moment, and when he spoke again, Belle could hear the smile in his voice. “And what is so important there that three farm ponies couldn’t wait to travel during the day, when it’s safe?”

Now her father looked abashed, and rubbed his hoof along the back of his neck. “Well… y’see, that there’s my fault. I started out a bit too late today, an’ I thought I could make it by sundown… I guess we all see how well THAT worked out…”

The strange pony laughed again, and Belle could feel the warmth in it. “Well, we all make mistakes, sir… but this could have been a very bad one, if I hadn’t shown up.”

Tom nodded, looking grim. “That’s the honest truth if’n I ever heard it. You can bet bits to bedsheets that I won’t be settin’ out that late ever again. It ain’t worth losin’ family over.”

“All too true, sir.” The figure’s head tilted slightly the other direction. “Well, since you are already out this late, it would be prudent to continue on.” He hesitated slightly before taking a step forward. “Would you do me the honor of allowing me to accompany you to Withersville? I was going there myself, and I would be more than happy to escort you and your family.”

“Well, that’s mighty kind o’ ya, stranger,” Tom said after a moment. “But I got one condition.”

The hooded figure froze in place, and Belle held her breath. Please don’t say anything silly, Pa…

“And what would that be?”

Tom simply smiled. “Yer name, stranger. I’d like t’ be able t’ tell all the ponies I meet this tale, an’ I cain’t rightly do that without yer name.”

There was a long silence from the cloaked pony, so long that Belle was sure he was going to refuse and melt away into the night, the same way he’d arrived… but finally, after several moments, he nodded.

“Very well.” A gentle aura of dark blue magic lit up around his hood and pulled it back, revealing a long, slender horn surrounded by jet black hair streaked with blue. His coat was pure, pristine black, and when he looked the family over Belle felt herself freeze beneath his gaze; he had the clearest green eyes she had ever seen in her entire life. With a sigh and a small smile, the unicorn gave them all a deep, courtly bow. “My name…”

“…is Dark Star.”

Chapter 2

A gentle breeze wafted through the half-open window in the small room, stirring the drapes that had until then kept it comfortable and dark within. The breeze, however, was having none of that, and promptly flicked a corner of the drapes away from the wall and shot a quick shaft of sunlight into the room, stabbing through the blackness and landing squarely into the face of one large, dark-colored unicorn who lay curled neatly on the floor. The pony winced, but his eyes remained closed.

The breeze returned moments later, blowing the drapes gently forward time and again, allowing the increasingly annoying sunbeam to invade the peaceful dark within and cast itself onto the unicorn’s face.

Ugh… Celestia’s sun has apparently not forgiven me yet, the unicorn thought. He opened one bright green eye and glanced at the window, only to have the sunbeam return and temporarily blind him by shining directly into his eye. He winced again, shutting his eye against the offending light as he sat up and stretched his muscular chest and neck. Well… now is as good a time as any to wake up, I suppose. He blinked his eyes, trying to rid himself of the pesky white dot that invaded his vision as he looked around the room.

It had been a very long time since Dark Star had been able to enjoy the hospitality of another pony, let alone stay a night at an inn, but when he had successfully brought the family he’d found in the forest into town, the stallion had insisted that he be allowed to put Dark up in one for the night. Dark Star had refused initially, but the stallion had paid anyway before leaving with a polite nod. Dark had almost left regardless, but after some consideration he had decided to take the room- after all, it had been very late, and he had not wanted to try and find a place to sleep outside the town.

The black unicorn rose from the floor and stretched fully, working his muscles and joints to wake them up. It had been a long time since he’d actually slept on a bed, and when he had tried… well, he’d slept on the floor for a reason. His horn glowed gently, and the blanket he’d laid down beneath him lifted from the floor; he folded it neatly and placed it at the foot of the bed, flexing his leg muscles systematically as he did so. After ten months sleeping on a bed of moss an actual bed was simply too… squashy for him, and he had been unable to get comfortable on it; however, a blanket, placed on the floor and rumpled slightly, had proven to be an adequate replacement.

His horn glowed again, and from the corner his sword and sword-belt levitated, floating over to him and buckling itself around his waist securely. The sunbeam returned, shining brightly in the dark room just long enough to reflect off of the bright silver surface of the sword’s hilt and send a myriad of sparkling reflections bursting into the room for a moment; then the drapes fell, and the room was dark once again. He took several steps across the room to the table, where several apples sat in a bowl, obviously one of the random amenities that this particular inn partook of.

The stallion whose family he’d saved, Tomato Vine, had told him to stop by the market today after he had woken up. The young mare and her mother had apparently wanted to thank him more appropriately…

…and that was precisely why Dark Star would not be going.

Praise, appreciation… they were the last things that Dark Star wanted from anypony. He shook his head slowly, his green eyes idly watching the drapes blow in the wind as he levitated an apple to himself and took a bite. To be honest, he was surprised that his name hadn’t been received with more trepidation. The last thing he wanted to be was the scourge he had once been, but… he had assumed that he would be reviled. He had assumed that everypony would have heard about what had happened in Canterlot, would have heard about him…

I was not expecting to be rewarded upon my return, he thought wryly as he finished his apple. After everything he had done… deep down, Dark Star knew that he deserved to be hated, reviled, feared… everything except rewarded. After all, what had he done that was worthy of reward? He had given in to his hatred, almost killed the Element of Magic and the Princess of the Sun; were those actions worthy of praise? Were those the actions suited to a stallion who once held the heart of the Moon herself? Who… for all intents and purposes… still held it?

He winced slightly. No… I deserve nothing less than the disdain of Equestria. I deserve to be run out of town, not put up in an inn…

Dark Star sighed sharply and walked towards the window. Suddenly, the darkness of the room seemed less like a comforting blanket keeping him safe and more like a funeral shroud stifling the life out of him… because as much as he hated to admit it… he truly believed that of himself.

His midnight-blue magic lit up the thick drapes and pulled them back… and outside his second-story window, Dark Star saw a crowd of ponies standing in the street, milling around expectantly as if waiting for something or someone. He blinked in surprise. Oh… that’s rarely a good thing… The faces of the ponies below were tight, and their conversations were low and urgent as they shuffled their hooves and waited… and in Dark Star’s not-inconsiderable experience, ponies who looked like that in a group were either a mob or a surprise party… and somehow, he doubted that the latter was true. As slowly and smoothly as he could he began to draw the curtains closed again, now very glad that he had already planned an escape route out the back door, but before he could vanish from the window one of the ponies in the street raised his head, and Dark Star felt the stallion’s eyes find him.

“There he is!” The stallion pointed with a hoof directly at Dark, and the rest of the mob followed his gaze, the gentle murmur of their conversation suddenly stirring up like dust in a windstorm.

Dark Star chuckled dryly and closed his eyes. So… looks like I’ll get what’s coming to me, after all. He released the curtains and stepped back up to the window, his eyes sweeping the crowd. There were quite a few ponies in the street; some were very obviously the hard-working farm ponies that were the backbone of this town and many around here, but some were smaller, lighter of frame and step- some mares, some stallions- who held themselves differently. From years of combat experience, Dark knew that those were the ponies to watch out for; they had been trained, in one way or another, to fight and defend themselves, and would not rely on the simple brute force that the farm ponies would. Unconsciously he shifted on his hooves so that the sheathed hilt of his blade bumped against his left leg- an old reassurance that his weapon was there and ready.

His gaze moved from one side of the gathering to the other, and he was surprised to see the family he had saved there- Tomato Vine, his wife Pear Blossom, and their daughter Belle Pepper were all staring up at the window, at him, their eyes unreadable. Deep in his stomach, Dark Star felt a twist, and in spite of himself he grew angry- this was the thanks he received for saving their lives? To be placed in an inn until such time as the mob could come and rip him apart? Gratitude in modern Equestria is certainly not what it once was, he reflected sourly… but a part of him knew that this was what he’d expected. After all, how else would the rest of these ponies know about him if Tom Vine and his family had not told them?

Wasn’t that what he was hoping for?

With a sigh, Dark Star’s magic lit the frame of the window, and it slowly rose until it was fully open. He bowed his head slightly and stuck it out through the window; he knew that he would be putting himself at risk of the odd thrown rock, but he was confident that he could deflect them with his magic or, if it came down to it, his horn itself, although that never felt very nice. He stared down at them, his green eyes shining in the sunlight, his mane blowing gently in the warm spring breeze as he gave them a sad smile.

“And what, pray tell, brings you fine ponies out here to stand in the street?” he asked, as if he didn’t know the answer. “Is there a parade I wasn’t aware of?”

To his surprise, it was Tomato Vine who stepped forward, a stalk of wheat held firmly in his teeth. “Well, sir,” he began, his voice neutral. “When I asked y’all fer yer name, I said ‘twas so I could tell everypony I met ‘bout how brave you was, an’ ‘bout how you kill’t all them timberwolves t’save us.”

Dark Star nodded.

“Well sir… I dun exactly that… and we all wanna thank you.”

“Now, I understand that you’re…” Dark Star began, hoping that he could forestall the wave of anger before it washed over him completely… but then he blinked as the words set in. “Wh…what now?” he asked.

“That’s right, Mr. Dark Star!” Pear Blossom said from next to Tom, her face split with a wide smile. “We weren’t able to thank you properly last night, so when we woke up this morning, we started telling EVERYpony about what you did for us out there, and…” Pear stopped and wiped a hoof across her eyes. “…and all our friends and neighbors here in Withersville wanted to thank you right and properly.”

The first stallion who had seen him nodded vigorously. “That’s right, sir! We wanted to thank you fer bringin’ the Vines in safe and sound, so we decided that we’d get the whole town to throw a party, in your honor, sir!” A cheer went up from the rest of the group, and from Tomato Vine’s other side, the young mare Belle Pepper leaped into the air, her eyes wide.

“I think I love you Dark Star!” she shouted above the din, causing her father to blink in surprise as she squealed in fan-filly glee.

Dark Star stared out the window at the crowd, cheering and shouting his name…

…and as quickly as he could he withdrew his head, slammed the window, drew the drapes, and threw himself against the back wall, his eyes wide.

What… what just happened?! Dark felt his heart pounding in his chest in panic. This is… this is NOT what’s supposed to happen. They’re supposed to hate me, scream horrible things at me, throw rocks and bottles and… and horrible nasty things at me! Not throw me a PARTY!

A gentle yet insistent rapping on his door drew Dark’s wide eyes, and after a moment of staring at it to make sure that it would not suddenly offer to throw him a party, too, he cleared his throat.

“Yes, who is it?” he asked casually.

“Um… Mister Dark Star? I-it’s Stone Hearth, the innkeeper.”

Dark Star exhaled and relaxed slightly, slumping down off of the wall back to all four hooves. He turned to the door and levitated his cloak around him, cinching the neck tight and pulling the hood up. No doubt he will want me to leave, either because of who I am, or because I… suddenly have a rather large and potentially unruly fan club. Either way, I shall face this with dignity.

The black unicorn opened the door and turned his gaze to the wary face of the burly gray stallion that owned the inn. In all honesty, everything about Stone Hearth screamed innkeeper; his gray eyes were warm and kind, and his black-and-white dappled mane bespoke age and experience. Now, his eyes were carefully neutral, and Dark Star gave him a respectful nod.

“Mr. Hearth,” he said kindly.

“Mr. Star,” the stallion returned with a nod. “I’m afraid we need to talk…”

“No need, Mr. Hearth,” Dark Star said, moving to step past him into the hall. “I was planning on taking my leave today anyway- starting right now won’t hurt.”

The gray stallion moved to block him, his eyes confused. “Whoa there, partner… leaving?” he said.

Dark Star’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Yes… I’m leaving, sir,” he said quietly, and in spite of Stone Hearth’s respectable size, he took an involuntary step back away from the large black unicorn. “I have places to go, and things that need attending.”

Stone Hearth hesitated for a moment, but stood his ground as he searched for words. “Well sir… I was going to ask you to gather your things-,”

“I had anticipated as much,” Dark Star began, but Stone Hearth held up a massive hoof.

“-because I was gonna move you to a nicer room, the best one we have, and let you stay another night, no charge. What you did for that family was right heroic, sir, and-,” Slowly, the innkeeper’s voice faded away as Dark Star stared at him, trying in vain to comprehend what was going on.

Finally, he held up his own hoof. “Th-that’s quite enough,” he croaked. “I… I’ll still be taking my leave, thank you. Thank you for your hospitality and… good day.” The black unicorn slid past Stone Hearth, graceful despite his larger size, and hurried down the hall while the gray innkeeper hurried behind him, asking him to reconsider, and telling him about the wonderful soup his wife was going to make that evening.

I have to get out of here, Dark Star thought desperately, taking the stairs downwards as fast as he could before hanging a left down the hallway that would lead him to the back door, his cloak billowing behind him as he fairly cantered through the building. He heard Stone Hearth behind him, calling to him, asking him to wait, but Dark Star’s mind was made up, and it was with great relief that he pushed open the door that would lead him to the alley behind the inn…

…and when he did, he was greeted by a substantial crowd of ponies, smaller than the one out front, but one no less excited to see him. Dark Star blinked in surprise and horror as a cheer went up from one and all, and confetti was thrown into the air as the mob surged forward, seeking to absorb him into their ranks… and if that wasn’t bad enough, the mare leading the charge was none other than Belle Pepper, her large brown eyes wide with excitement.

“Dark Star!” she cried, her smile widening so much that Dark was afraid it would split her face in two. “We just want to thank you for what you did!”

The black unicorn’s ears flattened against his head as the crowd gathered around him, his eyes whipping back and forth as he sought a way out of the seething mass of ponies; unfortunately, they had him completely boxed in against the building. He turned to the door, hoping to escape back through the inn, but even as his magic grasped the doorknob the door swung open and Stone Hearth popped his head out, his brow furrowed.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay the night?” he asked. “We can have pancakes for breakfast.”

Dark Star gave him a solid frown before turning back to the crowd. Looks like there’s nothing for it… With no other options, the large unicorn crouched low, gathering his muscular legs beneath him; then, with a grunt of exertion he leaped into the air, throwing himself over the heads of the smaller ponies around him. A dozen sets of eyes watch him in awe as he sailed over them, his cloak flaring around him like huge, dark wings; he stretched his legs out before him, and thankfully he had leaped just hard enough to make it to the edge of the crowd- only one pony had to scramble out of his way, and the small mare didn’t appear to be hurt as Dark Star landed and began to run.

The crowd surged after him, their shouts echoing off the buildings and drawing the attention of the group at the front of the inn; Dark Star could hear them giving chase from the main street, and his ears flattened against his head even more, if that was possible. This is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever had to deal with! Angry Princess? Sure! Elements of Harmony? Why not! Crowd of crazy ponies who want to throw me a party? THAT is something new!

He ran as hard and as fast as he could, dodging to the left down an alley, then to the right down another, trying his best to throw the group of ponies off. Slowly but surely he heard the sounds of their pursuit begin to die down; the main group seemed to have lost him, and as he made turn after turn, all the while heading towards the outskirts of town, he heard the voices and hoof-falls of the smaller group grow fainter and fainter and finally, as he approached the edge of town, they fell silent completely.

He slowed his pace to a walk, his breathing coming briskly as he slipped behind one of the larger homes on the edge of town and slumped to the ground, his back against the wall. He glanced to his left, towards the main street, his ears perked towards it as he listened and watched for any signs of the crowd, but thankfully, they seemed to have officially given up. He sighed with relief and allowed his head to flop back against the house.

“I can’t believe that,” he muttered, his hoof adjusting his sword as it sat jammed next to his body against the house. “That was just…” he shook his head, at a loss for words; he opened his eyes and gazed up at the clear blue sky for a moment before turning to his right…

…where he locked eyes with the large, sad brown eyes of Belle Pepper, who had somehow come to sit next to him as if she had been there the whole time.

Dark Star’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped open. How… how did she find me?! His muscles tensed beneath his cloak as he waited for the excitable mare to begin shouting for her friends to come and find him, to begin his frantic flight yet again… but no shout came. His eyes remained locked with Belle’s, and the mare simply watched him closely for several moments before finally she spoke.

“Why are you running, Mr. Dark Star?” she asked quietly, confusion playing silently across her eyes. “All we wanted… all we want to do is say thank you proper-like.”

The black stallion watched her carefully, and after a moment allowed his muscles to relax again, but only slightly. “Ms. Pepper, you don’t want to thank me,” he said softly. “I don’t deserve your thanks.”

Belle lifted her hoof slightly towards him. “That’s what you said in the forest, and you’re wrong, Dark Star,” she said, her voice pleading. “You saved us, saved me, from those awful timberwolves, and… and you’re a hero, Dark Star!”

The black stallion rose to his hooves, his green eyes flashing. “Don’t call me that,” he said, his voice cold. “You have no idea what I’m like, filly. You have no idea the kinds of things I’ve done, the kind of pony I am. You know of ONE ACT in my very long life, and you dare, you DARE to try and call me a hero?!”

Belle Pepper seemed to shrink before him, drawing her hooves up against her chest as he spoke… and after several long moments, tears rose in her warm brown eyes as she stared up at him. Dark Star felt his anger begin to fade, the flames of his ire quickly snuffing out and becoming a cold knot in his stomach. He turned quickly away from her, drawing the hood of his cloak up around his face before taking a hesitant step away. Part of him hated to leave her in tears… but the alternative was worse.

He didn’t get more than a few steps away before her voice stopped him in his tracks.

“If you’re not a hero… why do you act like one?” she asked, her voice quavering gently. “Why… don’t you want to be loved..?”

The black stallion hesitated a moment, and when he turned back to Belle Pepper, his eyes were sad but firm.

“Because I don’t deserve to be loved,” he said quietly. “I’m a monster… and I don’t deserve it.”

He turned his back on Belle Pepper and on Withersville, dug his hooves into the ground, and took off at a run; the road would take him farther north, but at that moment he didn’t care which direction he went, as long as it was away.

Chapter 3

The western sky was alight with the fires of evening before Dark Star could bring himself to stop walking. The black stallion cast his green eyes skyward as he slowed to a stop on the well-traveled roadway, and with a sigh he tossed his hood back. I guess I’d best make camp, he thought. There wasn’t a town or home in sight… and if Dark Star was honest with himself, he didn’t think he wanted to be around any other ponies tonight, anyway.

With a glance up and down the road to make sure no other ponies saw him, he turned and headed off into the brush and trees that surrounded him, leaving the link to civilization behind him for the time being and forging off into the world he had come to know so well.

The woods around this part of the road weren’t particularly dense, at least not compared to where he’d built his hut far to the south; it was, as his had been, a deciduous forest, full of elms, oaks and maples, and it was easy enough for the unicorn to find a clearing several hundred yards away from the road that suited him perfectly. His horn lit up, unclasping his cloak; it floated away from him and slung itself over a low-hanging branch, allowing the cool evening breeze to touch his coat. Dark shivered involuntarily at the caress, enjoying the refreshing feeling as the thin sheen of sweat that had gathered along his shoulders and flanks was whisked away by the gentle wind; it was a wonderful feeling, and he felt himself begin to relax for the first time that entire day… but with a sigh he shook his head. There’s still plenty to do before you settle down for the night, he reminded himself.

He had set up many camps since leaving civilization behind almost a year ago, so the entire process was almost second-nature to the stallion, and he fell gladly into the comfortable routine. First there was the matter of shelter, and for a unicorn in a forest full of trees that was a very simple matter. Dark Star paced the clearing, his eyes searching the surrounding trees; his horn began to glow, and as he gazed about the forest, he began to collect branches. Four were stout branches, a little less than his shoulder-height in length, with good, solid Y-shaped notches at the top- he piled those next to him as his magic danced from tree to tree, searching and seeking.

The next branch he found was long, solid, and easily twice his length; his horn flashed, and a blade of magic sliced the branch from the large elm, allowing it to float towards him in his telekinetic grip. He smiled ever so slightly as he began working subtle waves of magic up and down the branch, sheering off any smaller twigs and any loose bark that may fall on him during the night, smoothing it expertly until it was free of any deformities. He maneuvered it to his other side and set it down.

The last step was easy, and one that Dark found himself becoming pickier and pickier about the more times he did it. With a critical eye he began searching the trees again, his magic still glowing brightly as he sought just the right branches. Finally, after almost five minutes he cut the first one, the most difficult, because once that was cut, the rest would be easier to find since that first determined the length he needed, and became, in essence, a “measuring stick”. He sliced and sliced and sliced, making a stack of broad, leafy branches behind him- all long and light and full of leaves. Finally, when he had about a dozen or so of those, he nodded to himself and set about constructing his camp.

He walked to the foot of the largest tree in the forest and used his magic to clear a large space out of it- a circle easily twelve feet in diameter free of the detritus and debris that a forest put down onto the ground; leaves, branches, the occasional bird feather, everything was pushed out to reveal the earth beneath. Into the side of this circle closest to the tree went the four Y-shaped branches; his magic drove them firmly into the ground, two together about eight feet apart from the other pair, leaning towards one another so that they Y at their tops overlapped. From behind him floated the larger branch, which nestled into these Y-shaped notches so perfectly that Dark Star had to wonder if these had been grown specifically for such a purpose. He released his magic and tested them by hoof, wiggling the supports and pressing his weight down onto the cross beam; after a few gentle bounces, he nodded. Not too bad at all.

His horn lit up again, and the smaller branches began to drape themselves along the side nearest the tree, their bare tips pointing to the sky with the leaves pointing down to the ground to create a makeshift roof. He draped several layers of these branches over one another, ensuring that he had a decent covering- it didn’t look like rain tonight, but Dark had learned that in forests like this Pegasi did not control the weather, and anything could happen. The angle of the branches gave Dark ample room beneath it to curl up and stay dry, if it came to it, and with a nod of satisfaction he turned to the next item on his list- food.

Dark was not afraid to admit that he had spent the better part of two weeks very hungry when he had first set out into the wilderness; making a shelter was easy, as was making fire for the unicorn… but finding plants to boil and eat, plants that were safe and would not make him sick to his stomach? That part was harder. Sure, he could identify strawberries and other kinds of wild fruit like that… but leeks? Wild onion? Tubers? Even the various herbs that could be eaten had eluded his knowledge, and he had spent days cursing his lack of enthusiasm for studying such things when he was younger.

However, hunger will drive a stallion to eat just about anything, and over the course of the third week he had started experimenting. He had spent every day searching the forest, sniffing, tasting, packing and cooking everything and anything he could find, and eventually, he had found enough to fill his stomach. He knew what the dangerous plants were- for instance, he knew nightshade on sight, as well as the aptly-named deathberries and the toxic foxglove- so he managed to avoid becoming sick… but it still took a good number of weeks before he had a steady supply of food.

Now, it was merely a matter of the last hour or so of daylight for Dark Star to find something that he could eat. He used a simple dousing spell to find the nearest source of water, which thankfully was a running stream not far away. Nearby on some high rocks he found an ample source of a plant he’d heard referred to as miner’s lettuce, a plant that he’d depended on greatly before and had served him well. He gathered a substantial amount in his magic and after taking a long drink from the stream, he proceeded back to camp, munching on his find and levitating a dozen medium-sized river rocks with him. The plants were crisp and delicious but left quite a bit to be desired on the palate, and with a sigh Dark reflected that with spring beginning to wear on, more and more plants would be available for him to find. That’ll be nice; it’s easy to get tired of watercress and miner’s lettuce.

Finally, as the sun began to sink below the horizon and darkness began to settle in on the world, Dark Star placed the river rocks into a circle near the front of his shelter, gathered branches and logs from the ground around him and lit a small fire, casting a small, wavering light into the dark forest around him.

Dark folded his cloak by hoof and set it onto the ground beneath his makeshift lean-to, seating himself comfortably upon it as he finished eating the miner’s lettuce he had left over, his eyes sweeping the glade around him as he slowly began to settle in for the night. What a day… He allowed himself a deep sigh as he turned his gaze to the sky above, just visible through the outstretched fingers of the trees that rose high about him; it was a deep blue, now, ever so slowly fading towards the blackness of night. As he watched, the sky darkened above him, and gradually stars emerged, shining like pinpricks in the veil of the night. He gazed up at them, and a small smile touched his lips; the night sky never failed to make him think of Luna, and on clear nights like tonight it was almost as if she were in the forest with him. His memories stirred, and in them he saw her eyes, those luminous sea-green pools that had captured his heart…

…and unbidden, a single thought burst across his mind, like a shout ringing through a silent room:

What would Luna think about what you did today?

He was silent for a long moment as the words ricocheted around his mind… and finally he sighed in vexation, shifting where he sat. The prospect of what the mare he loved might say about his exploits earlier in the day made him uncomfortable... and more than a little unhappy.

And why is that, Dark? The voice in the back of his head whispered. You seemed to think that your flight and the words you spat at Belle Pepper were perfectly justified at the time.

The stallion stared into the flames of his small fire. This voice was different than the one that had argued with him aloud almost a year ago in his dreams; this was not the voice of a disembodied Brightsteel, chiding him for making foalish decisions. No; this was a voice that was very much his own, and one that he was still having a hard time dealing with- his conscience.

What I said to that filly was for her own good, he told himself. She couldn’t be allowed to think of me as some kind of… hero.

Then why act like it? The voice persisted. You acted like a hero, and she tried to treat you like one. She only did what felt right, and you attacked her for it. What would Luna say about that, Dark Star..?

Dark Star sighed angrily and rose to his hooves, stepping around his fire and into the glade as his thoughts became more and more bothersome. I don’t know what she would say, he thought. I don’t know.

Oh, such a bad liar you’ve become, Dark Star, that irritating voice chirped. You can’t even lie to yourself anymore. You know EXACTLY what she would say to you.

The unicorn’s horn lit up with a gentle magical aura, and his sword slid from the sheath at his side to hover before him in the air, its blade shimmering in the firelight. He gave it a few sharp swings before instinctively settling his body into a guard stance. He hesitated for a moment, then lashed out with the long, thin blade, stabbing the air with expert precision and control, the sword never hovering farther away from him than he wanted. The blade danced back to him, floating with the hilt low to his left, the thin blade slanting across his chest defensively. He shifted his hooves lightly, sliding to the left as his sword lashed out in a tight, sharp arc, singing through the air as his magic propelled it forward and across. He stepped back, the blade flicking up and away, a move meant to gain some distance between himself and an opponent; as quick as lightning his blade returned to him, hovering mere inches from his chest as he settled his hooves again firmly to the ground.

Slowly, he allowed his body and mind to fall into the familiar rhythm of his sword techniques, trying to rid himself of the nagging voice in his mind; and for a while, it worked… but even through the comfortable flowing routine of the art of the sword, the voice returned, refusing to leave his mind at peace.

You know what Luna would say? The voice asked again, and Dark Star could have sworn it sounded nonchalant. She would be so happy to hear that you helped that family… and then confused as to why you rejected their praise so emphatically.

The blade slashed through the air, its edge slicing so quickly that it whistled and sang as Dark’s magic manipulated it back and forth, his eyes unseeing as he found his focus turned inward. I did what I had to do, he insisted. Those ponies didn’t know what they were doing… who they were celebrating.

No, they didn’t. They don’t know who you used to be, Dark, or what you’ve done- they saw a stallion who risked his life to save others, and tried to celebrate him. Is that so bad?

Dark found his jaw clenching as he spun, the blade flashing through the night to slice low behind him, where an opponent’s knees would have been. It is if that somepony is me, he thought.

Are you saying you don’t deserve to be praised as a hero?

That’s exactly what I’m saying!

The sword sang through the air in a complex pattern, one of Dark Star’s personal favorites; it was designed to force his opponent to maneuver their blade to the extremes of their abilities, stretching their defenses to the limit as he probed and tried to discover a weak spot.

Then are you going to stop helping ponies?

The thought caused Dark’s sword to wobble slightly as he wove the pattern in the air, and he frowned. …No, I’m not, he thought slowly. This is why I decided to come out of the forest in the first place- to help others and atone for what I’ve done.

Then you know good and well that what happened in Withersville is going to happen again. You can’t go about acting like a hero and expect ponies to just ignore you.

The blade began to move faster now as Dark felt his anger rise, his hooves stepping lightly from one position to the next as his magic flared, sending the sword slicing through the night as if he was trying to cut the darkness itself. They SHOULD ignore me, he thought brusquely. I don’t want to be lauded as a hero, or congratulated, or anything- I just want to help and move on.

But you KNOW that won’t happen, now. Everywhere you go, they will try to thank you, try to shower you with praise, most likely try to throw you a party at every turn-,

No.

-and quite possibly try to give you a medal. Wouldn’t that be nice, Dark? A medal for helping some poor family…

Shut up. The blade flew faster and faster in the night as Dark’s ire grew.

A banquet wouldn’t be out of the question, either- a nice banquet, with you as the guest of honor, resplendent at the head of the table, nodding graciously to the ponies of the town…

“NO!” he barked out loud, and with a snarl he spun again on his hooves, the blade slashing away from him… and there was a loud schlock sound as the whirling blade sliced through the trunk of a nearby tree. The tree shook from roots to boughs, sending a shower of leaves down into the glade as ever so slowly it shifted, sliding along the gently sloping slash before it serenely toppled to the floor of the forest with a muffled crash. The unicorn watched it in surprise, his sword hovering near him as his breath came in slightly ragged draws, his jaw still clenched as the buzzing of his anger began to fade in his ears.

As the roar of his own blood began to fade, the voice returned… and this time it was almost somepony else’s voice, a voice that he longed to hear more than any other in the world: Luna’s. It sounded so much like her that he almost turned to make sure she was not standing in the glade behind him.

So does that mean you’ll stop helping? The voice asked. Does that mean that this is the end of your journey, Dark Star?

The thought gave him pause, his blade floating lower next to him as he stared at the fallen tree. The end…? He thought. But… I just started.

Well, if you don’t want them praising you as a hero, the only way to avoid it is to stop being a hero, Dark, the voice reasoned. And that’s what makes you mad; because you know very well that if you continue to help others in this fashion, other ponies are going to want to thank you. But you don’t want that… and yet you still want to help others. It sounds to me like we’re going to have to come to some kind of a decision.

The black unicorn stared at the tree, his eyes tracing the trunk from the outstretched branches at the top, down the rough, broken patterns of the bark all the way down to where the trunk had been severed; his little bit of forestry knowledge told him that this was not an old tree by any means, with its trunk a little less than two feet across. A tree that would have lived another fifty years, another hundred years in peace if he hadn’t come along to destroy it in a fit of rage.

He gazed quietly at the stump, the clean slice in the wood that severed the rest of the tree from it starting to ooze clear sap in the firelight.

Is that going to be your legacy, Dark Star? The voice asked quietly from the back of his mind. Leaving destruction wherever you go? Despair, hopelessness and violence spread in your wake? That’s how you want to be treated, after all; like a villain.

The shining silver sword rose to hover before his eyes, and his green eyes roved its clean lines, the perfect, blazing silver of the guard and the blue sapphire that made the insignia that had once been his cutie mark. This sword had been his constant companion; the one thing he could always rely on… but it was also a weapon, something made specifically to bring about war and death. He glanced past the blade to the tree, now dying as it lay severed from its roots. It was a weapon… was he any different?

Is that going to be your legacy, Dark Star of Everfree?

Several leaves floated down around him as a gentle wind stirred the canopy above.

Because you know for a fact that Luna believes you can be so much more; so much more than a weapon, so much more than the sword you wield. But you have to believe it, Dark Star.

He watched his own reflection in the mirror-polished guard of the sword- his long black mane, his piercing green eyes… a different pony than he had been a thousand years ago, and even a different pony than he had been as little as a year ago.

Then, with a sigh, he sheathed the blade at his side and turned to the tree. His horn ignited, blazing a brilliant royal blue in the night; the severed tree glowed with a midnight-blue aura and slowly lifted off the ground, rising gracefully into the air to settle back along its stump. Dark closed his eyes and concentrated, focusing his magic on the huge slice that bisected the tree. Ever so slowly, the slice began to glow brighter and brighter, flaring with his blue magic as it ever so slowly, from right to left, began to heal itself. The wood fibers reached out to one another, interlacing as they had been before the intrusion of the blade; a shuffling sound reached Dark’s ears as the wood reacted to his magic, knitting together like Morninglight knit bones. Finally, the bark that had been slashed through on the outside of the tree healed like a zipper, slowly closing around the tree until the entire plant stood tall and firm once more, with little more than a few broken branches on its side to show that it had been through anything untoward.

“I am not just a weapon,” he said softly to the tree. “I can do much more for this world than destroy… but doing so will mean that ponies will think they know me, think that they owe me thanks… when the truth is…” He shook his head and smiled up at the stars. “…that I should be thanking them.”

Luna, please be with me, he thought as he gazed towards the heavens. Let your gentle spirit guide me on this path. He closed his eyes as a cool night breeze touched his face. Be with me, my love.

He turned back to his camp, and as he approached it the weariness from the events in Withersville coupled with the entire day of walking suddenly caught up to him; his legs grew heavy even as he walked, and he suddenly felt as though he could not keep his eyes open for one more moment. His horn glowed as he approached the fire, and his sword belt unbuckled, hovering before him to lean against the corner of his small shelter. He sat down onto his folded cloak with a sigh, stretching his muscles for a long moment before lying out next to the fire. I suppose the only thing to do the next time I help somepony is to make sure I vanish before they can tell anypony else about it, he thought as he closed his eyes. It’s the best way… the only way…

The fire next to him slowly but surely died out, leaving the black unicorn to sleep; and sleep he did, a deep, peaceful sleep that he found so rarely in his past… a sleep so deep that he did not so much as stir when a ghostly vision of a dark blue mare with a shimmering ethereal mane flickered to life near him. The mare smiled; not a happy smile, to be sure- instead, it was the sad, melancholy smile of separated lovers, and after a moment the mirage lowered her head and gently placed a kiss on Dark Star’s cheek. Her form wavered, flickered once, and then was gone as the night breezes carried her away into the cloudless sky.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Dark Star did not awake with the dawn the next day; in fact, it was mid-morning before he stirred, with the sun already half-way to its zenith. The rays slanting down into the trees set golden pools of light dancing about the forest floor as a gentle wind stirred the leaves above, every so often sending one particular beam sliding across Dark Star’s shelter. The black unicorn shifted on his cloak before stretching and letting out a satisfied groan.

“By the Ancient Alicorns…” he muttered, moving his neck from side to side in an attempt to loosen his muscles. “It feels like I slept for another thousand years…” He rolled his shoulders, feeling the muscles there begin to limber up as he stood; with a violent shaking motion he tossed his mane and tail, dislodging a few leaves that had blown there in the night. Dark blinked, trying to clear his eyes as he gazed around the glade. It took him a moment to realize that the rays of sunlight lancing in through the canopy weren’t of the early-morning variety, and he felt a little surprised at himself for sleeping to such a late hour. Normally, if the sun is up, so am I… and even when it’s not, I usually am. He shifted from hoof to hoof, slowly warming his muscles up from the night’s sleep. And a good night’s sleep it was, he reflected, something that surprised him almost as much as the length of time he’d slept. Dark Star was used to having a less than satisfactory sleep; after all, one does not do the things that Dark Star had done without having a few nightmares.

But last night had been blissfully silent; there had been no nightmares, no visions of the past, good or ill- only warm, embracing darkness and the feeling of being safe, as if…

The unicorn chuckled ever so slightly. No, that’s ridiculous, Dark. Don’t be a foal. His horn lit up slightly, levitating his sword belt to his flank; with smooth, practiced motions the belt flipped over his back and around his right side, then underneath his stomach to meet the opposite end of the belt near his left side, directly below where the scabbard of his sword hung tight against his hip. He shifted slightly, letting the belt and blade settle naturally before stepping off of his cloak. His horn lit up again and the cloak floated up from the forest floor; as expected, the one side was incredibly dirty from lying against the ground. It was smudged with dirt and mud, and covered with enough leaves that Dark was sure if he turned it over and placed the still-clean side against the ground, he would never find it again against the camouflage of the forest.

The unicorn’s horn blazed a little brighter as he cast a very simple spell, one that bathed the cloak in brilliant sapphire light; at the top of the cloak, a brilliant white line appeared, and in one smooth, quick motion it moved from the top to the bottom, sweeping across every inch of the fabric and taking with it all the debris it had collected- every twig, every leaf, ever pebble fell away from it as if the cloak had suddenly ceased to exist… which, in essence, was exactly what this spell did. It altered the density of the fabric of the cloak to the point that it became intangible, at which point, naturally, everything NOT the cloak dropped away, since there was suddenly nothing to cling to. Dark released the spell and shook his cloak out once smartly before slinging it over his shoulders and back. The clasp glowed blue for a moment as he brought it across his neck, securing it tightly.

With a few harsh digs of his hoof he upturned a small patch of earth and flopped it down onto what was left of his fire, stamping it harshly with a hoof for a few moments to ensure that it was well and truly out before turning his back on his shelter in the woods and setting off back to the road.

The unicorn held his head high as he turned to his right and started northwards again on the road, his green eyes bright in the morning sunlight. He couldn’t remember a night when he’d had a more thorough rest- he truly, for the first time in a long time, felt rested and refreshed. He tried to think about what he had done differently last night as opposed to every other night he’d stayed in the woods, but he could think of nothing… well, nothing except healing that tree. And finally coming to grips with a plan, he reminded himself. He pursed his lips for a moment in thought; perhaps that simple admission had been what had allowed him to rest easily last night. After all, he knew what it was like, trying to sleep when there was the weight of a decision, made or unmade, laying on you like a leaden blanket- perhaps it was as simple as that.

With a shrug, Dark started down the road, the spring sun warming him pleasantly as he walked, his hood down, his mane blowing in the breeze… but for some reason, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was another reason for his ease last night… and as he walked, he kept imagining that he’d felt more than seen an apparition, an image that flickered on the edges of his memory and his heart, that had allowed him peace in the darkness.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The day wore on uneventfully, with Dark stopping only twice for water as he passed a stream and once to eat a few of the wild daisies that were growing in a field along the roadside. He didn’t even meet any ponies along the road heading north; it was as if he was walking into an uninhabited area instead of along what he understood to be one of the main roads between Tramplevania and Horsaille. Withersville stood about a day’s walk from Tramplevania, a city he had avoided, and if the map he had studied while in Withersville was to be believed, there was one larger town to come yet before he reached the forest that rose along Equestria’s northern border with Prance- a town called Clyde’s Dale.

It was nearing sunset when Dark Star found the town, nestled close to the northern forest which, as far as Dark could tell, had no name. Clyde’s Dale spread out along the forest edge, the buildings tucked close together, but not in a way that made the town look afraid or foreboding; rather, the set of the houses and larger buildings in the village made it look inviting and friendly, as if to welcome any and all weary travelers to a night of rest in a safe place. The stallion smiled slightly and levitated his hood up. It’s easy to imagine why; this place is a major stop-over for any transport moving to Horsaille. In the winter up here, I bet there’s no more welcome sight than the warm windows of Clyde’s Dale.

He entered the town along the main road, the low, sturdy buildings continuing to give off a welcoming aura, and he found himself smiling ever so slightly. There weren’t too many ponies in the street as the night approached, but those who were gave him nods that were as friendly as a hooded stranger could have hoped for, and as he walked a small earth pony with a golden brown coat and cinnamon-colored mane darted in front of him, his brown eyes wide as he gazed without hesitation up into the depths of Dark Star’s hood.

“Hey mister…” he said, his voice high and curious. “Why’re ya wearin’ a hood like that? It ain’t that cold out anymore!”

Dark Star had to literally stop in his tracks, because the small colt had stopped directly in front of him, and seemed extremely disinclined to move until the black stallion answered his question. He gazed down at the colt, his green eyes meeting the foal’s brown, and after several moments of silence, Dark smiled ever so slightly.

“Well, it’s a bit chilly at night for me- I’m from farther south, and it’s much warmer there now.”

The colt’s eyes widened, and his mouth formed an excited “O”. “Ooooooooooh… how far south, mister?”

Dark couldn’t suppress a chuckle at the young pony’s curiosity. “Very far south, young colt,” he answered. “From near the Everfree Forest.” That’s close enough.

“The Everfree!? WOW… have you ever been in it?!”

The unicorn’s smile became slightly sad, though the colt certainly could not see it. “…Yes, I have.”

“Oh WOW!! You actually DID?! Did you ever see a mantey-core?! Oh! Or a dragon?! Did you ever see a real-,”

Suddenly, there was a set of legs behind the small pony, and Dark Star raised his hood enough to look onto the face of a mare, her hazel eyes apologetic as she nudged the colt gently. “Now Turnover, is that how your father and I have raised you? To accost random ponies in the street with that imagination of yours?”

The colt winced and stopped mid-word before turning to face the mare. “Awww Mom! It’s not my ima-jam-nation, it’s for REAL! Ponies are always talkin’ about the Everfree Forest when they come through, an’ this pony’s BEEN THERE, so I hafta ask if all those things’re true!”

The chestnut mare tossed her bright red mane and gave her son the best Don’t talk nonsense look that Dark Star had ever seen. “Now Cinnamon Turnover, you know better than to go telling stories,” she began, but Dark held up a hoof.

“Pardon me, ma’am… but I’ll answer him, if you’ll allow it,” he said, his voice gentle. The mare blinked up at him, as if seeing him for the first time; she took a half step forward as she tried to look up into his eyes, hidden as they were by the hood, but after a moment she realized that she was being quite obvious with her movements and blushed slightly before straightening.

“Oh… well, sir, if you don’t mind indulging an overeager young colt,” she said.

Dark Star simply nodded, then dropped to one knee, putting himself on the young colt’s level.

“I’ll tell you this, young Turnover,” he said quietly. “The Everfree is just as dangerous as all the ponies say. And yes, I’ve seen a manticore, and a dragon, and any number of other things that would freeze your blood solid with fright.” He grinned. “It’s probably the most terrifying place I’ve ever seen!”

Turnover’s eyes widened, and his mouth hung open, slack; for a moment, Dark wondered if he’d overdone it, but then the slack-jaw gave way to the biggest grin that Dark had ever seen on anypony, and young Cinnamon Turnover leaped into the air before turning back to his mother.

“SEE Mom?! I TOLD you I had to ask!! It sounds so SCARY and COOL!!!” He shivered in place, then turned back to Dark Star. “Thanks a bunch, mister!!” he said before turning tail and darting away, just as fast as he’d arrived. Dark chuckled softly and rose to his hooves.

“A young colt is always looking for the next thrill,” he said softly, almost to himself. “It never hurts to be the one to give it to them.”

The mare watched him for a moment, her hazel eyes just as full of curiosity as her son’s had been… but instead of asking the questions that had piled up behind her gaze, she simply smiled. “Especially if it keeps him from trying to traipse off and find the Everfree Forest himself,” she said. She gave Dark Star a small nod. “Thank you, stranger; I think you just made his week with that.”

“I’m not sure if I should say You’re welcome or apologize to you.” He smiled in return.

“Oh, there’s certainly no need to apologize,” she said with a giggle. “Little Turnover loves to hear stories from everywhere- I swear his talent is going to be in storytelling himself, the way he can parrot what he hears back to everypony.” The mare sighed and looked off after her son. “Speaking of him, I’d best go and see what mischief he’s up to now.” She turned and gave Dark Star another smile. “I’m Cherry Turnover,” she said. “My husband, Apple Turnover, and I run the bakery here in Clyde’s Dale.”

Dark nodded to her. “Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Turnover,” he said, but he felt less than inclined to give his own name. “I’m just passing through, looking for a place to stay for the night. Any suggestions?”

Cherry watched him again, her hazel eyes once more filling with questions, but again they went unasked. “Sure, stranger- the Feedbag is the best in town, but don’t let Quickfire talk you into paying more than ten bits for the night. I swear, his name should have been Silver Tongue, the way he can talk money out of ponies.”

The stallion nodded. “Thank you, ma’am,” he said simply. “May the Sisters watch over you.”

“And… and you, sir,” she said; she was quick, but she couldn’t hide her surprise at the blessing. Dark Star winced. It was one that the Guard had used all the time back in Everfree, and one that he had always favored until he’d thrown his lot in with Luna- now, it seemed that ponies had forgotten it completely, and using it was going to make him stand out like a notch in the ear. The stallion cleared his throat and made his way around the small mare, nodding to her once more as he passed; he could feel her eyes on him as he walked away, but true to form, her questions were all silent ones, and he continued on his way.

The Feedbag was easy to find, but getting the innkeeper to shut his mouth was not; Quickfire was obviously the only way to describe how the tall, thin stallion spoke, his words almost piling up around one another in their haste to leave his mouth. Dark Star eventually just slapped ten bits from the pouch inside his cloak onto the counter and told the stallion in no uncertain terms that he was taking a room, and wanted a key. Thankfully, the sight of the money had zipped the innkeeper’s lips, and Dark was able to get to his room with his ears still intact.

He found the room to be cozy and welcoming, just like the rest of the village, and was pleased to see that a small bookshelf adorned one wall. The stallion read snippets of several books before finally deciding to go to sleep, and by the time he did it was very late- in fact, he was quite certain that his was the last light to go out in Clyde’s Dale that night.

~*~*~*~*~*~

And as luck would have it, Dark Star was absolutely right- his was the last light out in the entire town… and as soon as twenty or so minutes had passed after that light went out… they came.

From the edges of the forest, a half a dozen black shadows entered the narrow streets and alleys of the town, their steps silent and quick as they spread out into groups of two and began to move from home to home, pausing only a moment by each one as if they were searching for something.

Finally, one group paused at a door for a few moments more than the others before vanishing inside the home; then the second group vanished into another one of the silent houses. There was a crash from inside another building, and the third group emerged from the still-open door, carrying a large sack on the back of one of the figures, steadied by the second. As fast as they could they made a break for the forest, followed soon after by the first and second groups, both also carrying large sacks on their backs.

The town of Clyde’s Dale slept on, oblivious to the mysterious figures and their cargo as they vanished back into the black forest, with the single crash that had echoed through the streets as the only evidence that they had ever been there at all.

Chapter 4

Even before he was fully awake, Dark Star knew something was wrong.

His ears had been flicking back and forth for the past hour and a half, training on the half-dozen or so conversations that had passed by his door and window; conversations held in whispered tones, full of worry and fear that had, for better or worse, robbed him of his peaceful slumber and were quickly compelling him to get his rump out of bed. The black stallion sighed once and slid out of the warm bed, his hooves barely making a sound on the carpeted floor of the inn. He shook his mane and stretched, his ears still perked intently as yet another pair of voices passed his window, their whispers soft, but not soft enough.

“… you absolutely sure? How many was it this time?”

“Three that we know of, but we’re still checking…”

Dark Star’s sword levitated to his side, the belt looping around him and securing itself before his cloak did the same, draping across his broad shoulders. That doesn’t sound good, he thought as he secured the clasp across his throat. Almost as an afterthought his horn sparked and the hood of his cloak rose over his head, shrouding him in its comforting blackness; he didn’t know what was going on, but being a stranger in a town that was suddenly confronting a crisis didn’t always bode well.

He exited his room and made his way to the desk at the front, where Quickfire the innkeeper sat mulling over paperwork… or at least, where he was pretending to mull over paperwork as Dark Star approached. His quick blue eyes kept darting to the door and windows, as if he wanted nothing more than to be outside of his business but knew that he couldn’t leave. Dark glanced out the window as well, and across the street he could see a small crowd gather, then disperse again almost as quickly as it had formed, scattering into groups of two or three that darted out of his vision with looks of determination and fear on their faces. The unicorn frowned, but approached the desk with no hurry in his step.

“Good morning, sir,” he said to Quickfire with a polite nod. “I’ll be checking out.”

“Mmm,” was the innkeeper’s only response; he didn’t even so much as look up from his paperwork as he held out his hoof for the key. Dark Star’s eyes narrowed slightly beneath his hood. Yesterday, it was all I could do to get him to shut up…

Dark levitated the key from a pocket inside his cloak and held it above Quickfire’s hoof, the shining silver key not quite touching the pad of the other stallion’s hoof. “And what is going on outside?” he asked. He knew better than to act casual about such queries- it was better to ask directly than to feign ignorance, in Dark Star’s opinion.

Quickfire’s eyes rose from the paperwork on his desk, and a flash of annoyance darted across them as he gestured for the key. “What’s going on?” he said. “Nothin’s goin’ on, stranger, except you keepin’ my key from me.” He made a grab for the key, but Dark’s midnight-blue aura danced it up out of his reach.

“Is that so,” Dark said, his voice flat. “Then why are there search parties darting around your city like there’s been a natural disaster?” He knew he was taking a stab in the dark, but the surprise that danced across the other stallion’s expression was more than enough to confirm what he’d begun to suspect for the past hour.

Quickfire opened his mouth… and closed it again just as quickly. Dark felt his eyebrows raise slightly as the innkeeper slouched back down into his chair with a grunt and placed his hooves firmly on the tabletop. “It’s none o’ your concern, stranger,” he said, his voice tight and clipped. “The only thing you need to concern yourself with is givin’ me my key, and movin’ on.” Then he proceeded to pretend to be interested in the papers in front of him once more, even though a casual glance showed Dark Star that several of the papers were upside down.

Dark Star watched him closely for a moment, waiting to see if this stallion, whom he could barely get to shut up the night before, was really going to sit there and pretend like he didn’t know anything… but after a few long seconds, the blue stallion shifted uncomfortably under the taller pony’s scrutiny, and Dark Star realized that yes, that was exactly what Quickfire intended to do.

“Thank you for your hospitality,” Dark said as politely as he could. His magic released the key, and it dropped to the tabletop with a gentle jingle. Quickfire didn’t even look up as Dark turned his back and walked to the door.

The air outside the inn was fresh and pleasant; it washed over Dark as he closed the door behind him, surging into his hood and filling his nostrils with the scent of cool, moist earth and newly-budding trees. It was a beautiful, wonderful spring morning… but there was something else in the air that tickled the edges of his mind, and it only increased as his eyes swept the street. It seemed that everywhere he looked, ponies were doing their best to go about their day-to-day routines- but something was off.

A mother and her filly walked past him, on their way to the market he had passed through on his way into town; the filly’s eyes were bright and cheerful, as if she had not a single care in the world… but there were bags beneath the mare’s bloodshot eyes, and they never rested on any one spot for more than a moment, always darting this way and that, as if she expected at any moment to be attacked or waylaid. They continued past Dark, the mare’s eyes alighting on him for a second; he gave her a small smile and a nod, but if she noticed, she gave no indication. Instead, she turned her head, her eyes resuming their frantic search for nothing as she and her filly plodded on down the street.

As he turned to watch them go, he noticed yet another crowd of ponies gather at the end of the street, at least fifteen heads strong. They stood very close together and it was clear even from this distance that they were speaking intently; then, as quickly as they had arrived they dispersed, scattering into the morning breeze like a puff of smoke.

It seemed that no matter where he turned, there were ponies at the edge of his vision, always moving, always seemingly searching for something… but what? His curiosity rose, tickling the back of his mind, but even as it did so Quickfire’s words rose to quash it.

“It’s none o’ your concern, stranger. The only thing you need to concern yourself with is givin’ me my key, and movin’ on.” And he was absolutely right; this town wasn’t Dark Star’s to worry about. In fact, he was certain that it had a sheriff or lawpony of its very own to make sure that whatever happened got set right and to make sure that these ponies got on with their happy lives. He knew that it would be easiest if he turned on his hooves and kept trekking north, the way he had been heading before; it would save himself and quite possibly this town a whole lot of trouble…

…and yet even as he thought that, he smiled ever so slightly. He could feel his curiosity rising, quashing his doubts in a wave of excitement and determination. Whatever was happening, he wanted to get to the bottom of it. He wanted to find out why these ponies seemed so afraid and, though he didn’t want to admit it, he wanted to help them solve their problems, as well. But beneath the tickling sensation at the back of his mind that he knew was his curiosity perking up was a subtle fire, burning deep in his chest like the embers of a forest fire smoldering beneath the ashes. As his hooves moved him forward towards the market, flashes of his inner conflict the day before spiraled across his mind.

They’ll call you a hero again. Do you really want to get wrapped up in another situation like Withersville? Yet another town from which you are forced to run?

Yet even as the doubts surfaced again, he knew the answer- something so simple that it surprised him how long it had taken himself to wrap his brain around it. I can help, he thought as he meandered down the street. I may not want their praise, but I want to help. And judging from the frightened looks on the faces of the townsponies here in Clyde’s Dale, they could use it. He felt a small, confident smile slide onto his lips as he entered the wide market.

As long as the folks of this town wanted his help, he would give it.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Nope.”

“…oh come now, surely you can-,”

“No way, stranger.”

“Listen, I’m just trying to help.”

“We don’t need your help, sir. On your way.”

Dark Star gritted his teeth at the stallion behind the small stand, who had turned his eyes away from Dark as soon as he had finished speaking. A biting comment slammed against the inside of Dark Star’s teeth, and it was with great effort that he swallowed the angry and rather harsh words that he longed to spit at the stubborn shopkeeper. He sighed, a bit more harshly than he had intended to. So far, he had tried four merchants at four different stands selling four different things, and had been met by the same answers from each one of them- We don’t need your help, and we won’t talk to you. It was incredibly frustrating, because he had yet to find out what exactly had happened. Everypony was being so incredibly tight-lipped that he couldn’t even get a vague idea of what had transpired, try as he might. Granted, he wasn’t exactly trying to be tactful- small talk was not one of his strong suits- but he had thought that at least ONE of them would be willing to tell him even a little of what had happened.

He was RARELY wrong, and when he was it irritated him beyond all reason… which was exactly where his mental state was right at that moment. He snorted a little louder than he had intended, but he took a deep breath and tried once more with the stubborn stallion behind the apple cart.

“Well… would you at least perhaps tell me what transpired?”

The gray stallion sniffed at one of his apples, even though he had already checked each and every one of them at least once during the course of his conversation with Dark Star. “Not sure what you’re talking about, stranger,” he said. “Nothing out of the ordinary’s happened.”

Dark felt his ire rising. After four ponies telling him nothing had happened, he was quickly reaching the end of his rope. “So I guess my ears were just playing tricks on me when I kept hearing ponies rushing about outside my room this morning, talking about three going missing this time, huh?”

The stallion didn’t even blink. “Must have,” he answered coolly. “Can’t say for sure, but you might want to have your ears checked out, stranger.”

The black-cloaked stallion was on the verge of drawing his sword and threatening to permanently damage this infuriating stallion’s hearing (even though that would have severely counteracted his good intentions) when he heard the sweeping of large wings behind him. The wing beats drew closer and closer before speeding up rapidly, then dying completely, indicating that whatever had just flown near him had landed; firm hoofsteps that approached and stopped directly behind him confirmed it, and with one last baleful glare at the stubborn stallion before him, Dark turned to see who had arrived.

The newcomer was a large, dark brown Pegasus with a black mane and tail; he rustled his wings in what Dark could only assume was irritation as he took a few more steps towards the black unicorn, his sky-blue eyes carefully neutral even if his wings weren’t. Dark’s eyes wandered past the large pony and saw that a good deal of citizens, who had been doing their best to ignore him up to this point, were now turning their eyes to the situation, as if this pony before him were well-known to them and was here to deal with the unruly stranger.

Dark could barely stop himself from rolling his eyes. If this is the sheriff and I’m under arrest… this is going to be extremely awkward.

Thankfully, the Pegasus stallion smiled at Dark Star in a friendly fashion. “Good morning to you, sir.” His voice was deep and soothing, and his words carried a comforting weight to them. The stallion tilted his head slightly to one side. “Is… there some kind of problem? I keep getting reports of a strange pony in town, pressing my citizens for information.”

Dark Star straightened to his full height, topping the large Pegasus by perhaps half a head. “Your citizens?” he asked.

“That is correct, sir,” the Pegasus replied, extending his wings slightly and giving Dark Star a deep nod. “My name is Downdraft, and I am the Mayor of Clyde’s Dale.” He raised his head, and when his eyes met Dark’s again there was an edge of distrust in their formerly neutral depths. “And I can’t help but wonder why a pony, cloaked and hooded as you are, would be bothering the ponies of my town in such a way.”

The accusation was thin, and normally Dark would have let it slide; but his patience was easily as thin as the accusation in Downdraft’s voice, and right at that moment he didn’t feel particularly inclined towards verbal grace.

“And I can’t help but wonder why your citizens can’t seem to answer a few simple questions,” Dark growled. “Questions that should not require me the better part of the morning to procure answers to.”

Downdraft’s eyes narrowed and he glanced over Dark’s shoulder to the shopkeeper pony behind him. “Granite Seed?” he said.

The gray stallion turned to face the Mayor. “Yessir?”

“What did this pony ask you?”

Granite’s eyes went to Dark, and the stallion was surprised by the triumph he saw there. They really must have confidence that this Pegasus can deal with me properly. “Well sir,” Granite said, “he asked me about why there were groups of ponies moving around the streets so secret-like, and what had happened to spook everypony so.” He sat up straight on his stool, his eyes closed proudly. “I didn’t tell him a ruttin’ thing, neither, sir.”

Downdraft turned his eyes back to Dark, and now the disapproval was plain on his features. “Asking about what’s scared everypony,” he repeated. “And what makes you think that anything has scared these fine folks?”

Dark was hard-pressed not to roll his eyes at the other stallion. “Oh come now. Regardless of what kinds of ponies usually visit your town, I assure you that I am no fool, Downdraft- I’ve been hearing whispered conversations all morning about how somepony has gone missing. I’ve seen groups gather and disperse as if running a census on the town, and I’ve seen the faces of the mares and stallions, eyes darting to and fro as if afraid that some nightmare is going to phase out of the very woodwork around them and spirit them away.” He shifted his shoulders, his eyes firm and confident. “And I’ve been called many things, but paranoid is not one of them.”

The Pegasus watched Dark for several moments, his eyes sweeping him from hoof to mane. Finally, the Mayor shifted his hooves slightly and nodded.

“What you say is true,” he conceded. "You are not paranoid; something has happened here…” Now the Mayor’s eyes became firm once more. “…but it is nothing that we cannot handle ourselves. So, while I thank you for your concern, mister…” He hesitated, and then smiled ever so slightly. “I’m sorry; I don’t believe I caught your name.”

“I don’t believe I threw it,” Dark retorted, his face blank. The Mayor squinted at him with one eye, then raised his eyebrows and sighed before moving on.

“At any rate, stranger, I can assure you that whatever problems we are having we can take care of them without assistance from any outsiders.” Downdraft stepped backwards and gestured towards the road with his wing, a road that was all but choked with onlookers to the conversation between the two large stallions. “I would ask that you stop harassing my citizens, and be on your way.”

“And just what are we doing to “solve” these problems of ours, Mr. Mayor?!” a voice called from the crowd. Dark blinked, and turned his eyes to the ponies surrounding them, trying to find who had spoken. And it didn’t take long for him to find them, because the crowd began to murmur almost immediately as it shifted and parted, allowing a small mare and her smaller foal to come trotting up the newly-created aisle, straight to the Mayor.

The Pegasus smiled at the mare, though it was obvious that he had to force it something awful. “Mrs. Turnover,” he said, his voice as saccharine sweet as any Dark had ever heard. “And how are you doing today?”

“Don’t give me that,” the mare hissed, her red mane draping over one of her dangerously hooded eyes. “Don’t you dare talk to ME that way Downdraft.” She stepped further into the circle surrounding the two stallions, her son, Cinnamon, huddled behind her legs, shooting furtive glances between Dark and the Mayor. Cherry Turnover glared at the Mayor with undisguised disdain as she stalked towards him, her ears pinned against her head.

“What seems to be the problem, Mrs. Turnover?” Downdraft said, his voice never losing its sugary-sweet edge; but Dark Star knew that he couldn’t be the only pony in the group to see the tiniest flame of ire spark to life in the Pegasus’ eyes.

“The PROBLEM,” she spat, “is that you keep telling us that ‘We can take care of it without outside help, we can take care of this if we just stick together’… but we’re not DOING anything about it!”

Downdraft sighed. “Mrs. Turnover- Cherry- please, you have to understand that I’m doing everything I can-,”

“That’s what you said the last time this happened,” Cherry said, the green flecks in her brown eyes flashing accusatorially. “And the time before that… and the time before that!!” She turned to the crowd of ponies, clearly trying to rally support. “Every time somepony goes missing, Downdraft tells us to let him take care of it, to trust him… but every time we do, more ponies go missing!” She rounded on the Pegasus again as a murmur of agreement rose from the gathered ponies, a victorious smile touching her lips. “We need help, Downdraft- and this stranger seems ready to offer to do just that, and you’re chasing him out of town!”

The Pegasus was silent for a moment before shuffling his wings slightly. “Taking up your husband’s cry, I see,” he said softly.

“I have to,” Cherry Turnover said just as quietly in return. “He was one of those taken last night.” Beneath his mother, Cinnamon winced as if he’d been struck, and the mare looked down at her son, trying to give him a confident smile. “We’ll find him,” she said softly, nuzzling the colt’s brown mane. “You’ll see.”

Downdraft looked at Cinnamon, and his eyes softened slightly… but just as quickly Dark saw the resolve strengthen in them, and as it did, his hopes of convincing the Mayor to let him help flickered.

“…I sympathize with you, Cherry… truly, I do,” he said, his voice gentle. He turned back to Dark Star, his jaw clenched. “But I can’t help but wonder exactly what brought this stranger to our town on the night of one of these attacks,” he said, loudly enough for the whole crowd to hear. “I don’t normally accuse ponies without proof,” he continued in a normal tone as whispers rippled along the ring of ponies around them. “But I’m afraid that the situation being what it is I’m still going to have to ask you to leave, stranger.”

“What?!” Cherry seemed almost fit to scream. “What?! You… you’re still making him leave?!”

“What choice do I have, Cherry?” Downdraft said, turning his head to face her. “I have to be suspicious of any stranger ponies in town; it’s a part of my job, and part of keeping you all safe.” Before the brown mare could say anything to the contrary, the Pegasus turned back to Dark Star, his eyes hard. “Please take no offense, but you need to take your leave- north or south, it doesn’t matter to me; but you need to be on your way.”

Dark studied the Pegasus for a long moment as the crowd around him started to mutter louder, their voices rising and falling like the wind through the high trees of the forest. His eyes went to Cherry Turnover, who looked about ready to fall over on the spot from incredulity and anger; then they went to the colt between her front hooves, and Dark felt his heart wrench at the look of absolute desolation on the poor foal’s face. The night before, Cinnamon Turnover had been bouncing in the street, begging to hear adventure stories from far away, a bundle of energy that seemed to have no limits… but now, he looked as if every last dream he’d ever had had been taken from him and smashed before his very eyes. He looked as if he would never smile, ever again… and that struck deep into Dark Star’s heart.

He turned his eyes back to the Mayor, his mouth a firm line. “…and if I refuse?” he asked quietly.

Without a word, Downdraft’s wings extended ever so slightly outwards and upwards, a display that was as old as ponykind, and one that Dark knew well: Just try it.

The unicorn closed his eyes and smiled ever so slightly. “I see. Then I won’t fight you; I’ll leave peacefully… if you tell me one thing.” He raised his eyes to Downdraft once more. “Who is taking the ponies from your town?”

Before Downdraft could say anything, Cherry Turnover spoke. “We don’t know who they are exactly, but they’re ponies,” she said quickly. “We’ve found hoofprints outside the houses that were broken into.” Downdraft gave her a sharp glare, but she wasn’t about to be deterred now. “The prints all lead off into the forest to the west, but every time we send ponies in to investigate… they disappear, too.”

“That is ENOUGH, Cherry,” Downdraft snapped, his eyes blazing with anger, but Dark Star raised a hoof.

“All right, that’s what I wanted to know.” He smiled at Downdraft. “I will be leaving… into the forest, to the west.”

A gasp went up from the ponies surrounding them, and Downdraft’s eyes narrowed.

“You will do no such thing, stranger,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “You’re going to take the road north or south, and-,”

“What difference does it make?” Dark star asked calmly, his face neutral. “I’m leaving your town, just as you wanted.” He shrugged. “I’m gone, out of your mane; what difference to you is it if I leave into the forest?”

“You’re not hearing me, stranger, those woods are DANGEROUS-,”

“So I’ve gathered. I guess if I don’t come back you’ll know for absolutely certain that they really ARE dangerous.”

Downdraft stomped a hoof angrily, gritting his teeth. “I won’t have your blood on my hooves!” he shouted. “This is our problem to deal with!”

Dark Star gave him a small smile. “Downdraft… if they can get my blood on their hooves… then whoever they are, they are much more than you can handle.”

The Pegasus glared at him, distaste clear on his face now. “If you go into those woods, stranger, don’t ever come back here,” he spat. “Because if you do, we’ll assume it’s because you’re one of them, and we’ll treat you accordingly.”

“I think I can handle that,” Dark said. He turned to Cherry Turnover. “I’ll try to find your husband, ma’am,” he said. “I’ll try to find all of your loved ones,” he said loudly, sweeping his eyes over the whole crowd. “And if I’m acting against the wishes of every last one of you in town, then I’m sorry- but I won’t be dissuaded.”

He turned his eyes back to Downdraft, who was glaring at him in something very close to hatred, and offered him a smile. “Look on the bright side, Mr. Mayor,” he said. “I might be able to help, even if you don’t want me to.”

“The only bright side,” Downdraft huffed, “is that I won’t have to see you ever again. I’m telling you, once a pony goes in to the western woods… they don’t come out again.”

Dark grinned. “Then I guess this is goodbye, sir.” He gave Downdraft a nod, then turned smartly and headed off down the street to the west. The crowd around them parted smoothly before the large black stallion; behind him, he could hear the murmurs of the onlookers begin to swell, and amidst it all he could hear Downdraft spouting reassurances of safety and solutions to their problems.

As he approached the edge of town, a series of small, rapid hoofsteps reached his ears, and he turned around to see Cinnamon Turnover racing at him, his eyes wide. Dark smiled within the dark depths of his hood and paused in his course, turning slightly to face the young colt.

“You shouldn’t be away from your mother,” Dark chided gently. “It sounds to me like this town is a bit more dangerous than I thought.”

Cinnamon screeched to a halt before the large stallion, his tiny chest heaving. He held up a hoof as he tried to breathe, indicating that Dark should just wait a moment. It was all the unicorn could do not to chuckle at the smaller pony, but after a dozen or so deep breaths the colt finally spoke.

“Mister… please try to find my Dad,” he said hoarsely. “They took him last night… hit my Mom an’ knocked her out ‘fore they did…” His tiny jaw clenched, and he looked up at Dark with blazing anger in his young eyes. “I want you t’ make ‘em pay for hurting my Mom, for takin’ my Dad! I… I wish I could go with you, an’ hurt them a whole lot myself!”

The large stallion’s smile shrank, and with a sigh he shook his head slightly. “Young colt,” he said gently. “You’re thinking about this the wrong way.”

Cinnamon blinked. “…wha?”

Dark Star threw back the edge of his cloak, revealing the shining sword at his side. “Do you see this, Turnover?” he asked. The colt’s eyes were as wide as dinner plates as he nodded. “Do you know what this is?” Another almost reverent nod as the colt stared at the sword. Dark smiled slightly, and with a touch of magic he slid the blade from its sheath, the long sliver of metal glinting brightly in the sunshine as he held it out for the colt to see. “I made this sword a very, very long time ago, when I was somepony very different,” he said softly. “I trained for a very long time to be good with this weapon, so good that nopony else could beat me. It was my special talent, once upon a time, and I was good enough that I became a very important pony.”

“Wow…”

“But then I did something that I was not supposed to,” Dark said, and with a sharp snap of his magic the blade flicked to the side, then flew back to the sheath and slid into it with a click. “I tried to use that talent to hurt others for selfish reasons, reasons that got many ponies hurt and even killed.” He smiled down at the colt. “I realize, now, that I had gone against the most important thing you learn as a knight.”

Cinnamon stared up at him. “…a-and what’s that?” he whispered.

“Use your talents to help those who cannot help themselves,” Dark said. “And never use them just to try and hurt others for revenge; sometimes we have to fight, young colt, but we must make sure it is for the right reasons- and revenge is a very poor reason, indeed.”

“Then… then why are you doin’ this?” the colt asked him, tilting his head to the side quizzically. “You’re not goin’ in for revenge… then why do this, when you could get killed??”

Dark closed his eyes, and smiled again. Oh Luna… sometimes I wonder if they weren’t right to call you a goddess all those years ago; if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were hoof-picking these situations for me… After a moment he sighed and opened his eyes before answering.

“Because I have the power to help your town, Turnover; and those with the power to help should always lend a hoof when they are needed.”

With one last nod to the colt, Dark turned towards the line of trees outside of town and started towards it, leaving Cinnamon Turnover standing in the street, watching him go. He was almost to the trees when a small voice floated to him across the distance:

“I believe in you, mister! Thank you!”

The stallion smiled slightly beneath his hood. Somehow, the “thank you” of a foal didn’t feel as wrong as the thanks of full-grown ponies… and he wasn’t about to let that colt down. Slowly but surely the forest rose around him, quickly blotting out the noonday sun and plunging him into darkness.

Chapter 5

As far back as his memory could stretch, Dark Star remembered hearing stories about the forest; stories that were always full of danger and darkness, stories that warned him and other young ponies like him to never, EVER stray into the forest after dark because of the dangerous things that lurked there. As far as he could tell, the stories hadn’t changed that much in a thousand years, even if the world itself had- most forests, including both the one he had lived in and the one through which he now walked, were free of any dark magic that would twist them and make them any more dangerous than anywhere else in Equestria. There were some forests, of course, that were still full of magic and danger, the Everfree Forest being the most magical and dangerous of them all, but as far as he could tell the fear of forests in general hadn’t slackened in the time he’d been gone.

He would be the first to admit that when he had moved into his forest home far to the south, the very atmosphere of the forest had taken some getting used to- that feeling that you were never quite alone, that you were always being watched by unseen eyes was quite disconcerting and more difficult to get rid of than Dark had thought it would be. However, living there had given him a sense of peace in the woods that he would not have thought possible before, and even though he knew that he hadn’t exactly become a dyed-in-the-wool forestry pony by any means, he felt confident in the knowledge he had gleaned from his time there.

And it was because of that experience that he knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that he was being followed as he picked his way along a half-hidden path in the forest.

He had been walking for almost an hour when he had first noticed the sensation of being watched, and it had taken all of his willpower not to stop and glance around to try and find the creatures who were watching him; but he refrained, and kept walking at the same steady pace that he had been, making his way slowly into the heart of the forest to the west of Clyde’s Dale.

The stallion had been very tempted to simply dismiss the sensation as typical forest paranoia, as he had experienced when he’d first moved into the woodlands… but it was the very time he’d spent there that made him sure that this wasn’t in his mind. It was a horribly uncomfortable feeling, like somepony was pressing against the back of his head ever so gently; it made the hairs at the base of his mane stand on end, and made him want to run a hoof over it to make sure it wasn’t caught on anything- however, again he refrained. After all, giving away that he was feeling uncomfortable may tip those watching him off.

After several hours of picking his way through the forest, he began to search the trees clandestinely for any signs of his followers; he never raised his head too high, always allowing his hood to hide his eyes as he scanned his surroundings with the practiced eyes of a soldier used to being suspicious of everything… and to his absolute frustration, he couldn’t see anything. No broken branches, no fleeting shadows, no moving bushes, nothing to give the eyes watching him an identity. The former General felt his frustration growing as he continued following the rough path before him. After all, it wasn’t every day that a pony could claim to be able to hide from Dark Star when he set his mind to finding them.

If this wasn’t so annoying, I’d honestly be impressed, he thought sourly as he stepped over a large fallen log in the path. They clearly have knowledge of forestry that I-

A barely audible snick! was the only warning he received as his hoof tripped a cleverly concealed piece of nearly-transparent thread on the other side of the log. The string, which had until contact with his hoof been stretched taut, dislodged from the small twig holding its far end and zipped into the underbrush to his right.

Dark barely had time to wince when he heard a rustling sound over his head, and before he could even hope to try and avoid it a large net fell from the shadows of the boughs above him, flopping onto him with such force that it sent the large stallion to his side with a grunt.

What in the name of..?! The net was huge, easily three times large enough to capture him, which meant that it wasn’t there specifically to capture him… however, it did a perfectly good job of doing so, and somehow knowing that he had blundered into a trap set for anypony and everypony irritated him even more.

Way to go, Dark Star, he thought as he struggled against the net. Let’s just go waltzing through the forest, ignoring the landscape, shall we?! The net was made of heavy coarse rope, and from the way it was taut against his coat, Dark guessed that it was weighted on the corners, possibly all along the edges to properly pin any unsuspecting idiot who blundered into it. Just like me, he thought irritably. The black stallion gritted his teeth and threw his weight against the net, struggling with all his might as he tried to get his legs beneath him. If he could get his legs beneath him, he could create some space between himself and the infernal web of rope pinning him down… but try as he might he could not right himself.

He exhaled sharply, a sound that was closer to a snarl than a sigh; his horn lit up, blazing with midnight blue light as he took hold of his sword and tried to draw it. The net, however, had other plans; the ropes were laced together just tightly enough that the hilt of Dark Star’s sword fit about halfway into one of the spaces between them before snagging at the crossbar and refusing to go any further, jamming halfway out of the scabbard.

“Oh for the love of the Moon,” Dark growled; he gave his head a sharp jerk to the side, causing the sword to slam against the ropes, but no matter how hard he tried his sword wasn’t going anywhere; the closeness of the ropes ensured that he would be unable to use his blade to free himself from this ridiculous predicament. Deprived of his blade the unicorn felt a small sliver of panic slide into his mind as he struggled against the ropes, wriggling for all he was worth for several long moments. This is completely unacceptable! I can’t believe this is happening- after all my training, all of my time spent mastering…

Suddenly he stopped himself, and allowed his muscles to relax as a solution whirled out of the back of his mind and landed squarely on his nose. With a roll of his eyes he slid his sword back into the sheath and the blue of his magic leaped from the hilt of the blade to the net surrounding him, bathing him in brilliant blue light. With a sharp flick of his horn, Dark Star sent the offending web of rope flying off of himself and away to the side of the path, where it neatly tied itself into a knot around a tree trunk.

The stallion rose to his hooves casually, giving his mane and cloak a good shake to rid them both of the twigs and leaves that littered the path; with a disgruntled sigh he forced himself to keep his eyes straight ahead instead of glancing around to see if anypony had seen what had just transpired, and after a moment he pulled his hood over his head and began walking again.

That was a stupid, stupid trap to fall into, he thought angrily. I shouldn’t have let my guard down. Again, he resisted the urge to glance behind him and kept his eyes focused on the path ahead of him. I guess I should be grateful that none of the other Generals were around to see that… Wild would never have let me hear the end of it…

He shook his head slightly as a pang of regret resounded in his chest at the thought of his old comrades. The lament his heart sang for what had transpired between himself and Luna was something totally apart from the guilt he felt where Morninglight, Wild Wings and Shooting Star were concerned, but he knew that it would eventually have to be dealt with; just as he would have to face his punishment from Celestia when he went back, so too would he have to face his one-time friends again… and the very thought brought a sour taste to the back of his throat.

But not now; that is something to deal with at another time. With a sigh, Dark pushed the thoughts of his former comrades from his mind as he continued on into the deep forest. It won’t do to lose my concentration again. He smirked. After all… the next trap might not be so benign.

~*~*~*~

Someday, I’ll get tired of being right, Dark Star thought wryly.

He had no way of knowing exactly how much time had passed since he’d fallen victim to the net, but he knew it had to have been at least two hours of walking… and in that time he had triggered more traps than he could ever have imagined. Not even a hundred yards down the path from the first trap was a pitfall, cleverly covered with a woven mat of branches that completely disguised it, making it indistinguishable from the rest of the landscape. If Dark had placed his full weight onto it, he would have been trying to pick himself up from the bottom of a twenty-foot deep pit, and probably with a broken leg. He had, thankfully, been poking along at a much more sedate pace and had not fallen headlong into it.

After that, it seemed to Dark that he had run a seemingly endless gauntlet of traps. After the pitfall had been another trip line, which when triggered had sent a large log swinging down at him. Then there had been another pit, but this time it had been filled with large sharpened pikes- clearly meant to kill whoever fell in. The next had been a branch, pulled back taut and covered in spikes; then two logs that swung down from opposite sides of the path to squash their prey between them. On and on and on the traps went, until Dark could barely go ten feet without triggering SOMEthing that tried to kill him.

He knew that these traps were meant to kill, not detain. He knew that somepony did not want him continuing on this path, and he knew that any sane, rational pony would have turned back ages ago instead of tempting fate and pressing their skills to the limits just trying to stay alive…

…but Dark Star was not your typical sane, rational pony, and he had given his word that he would do his best to find the ponies who had vanished here.

No matter how difficult that is proving to be, he thought with a sigh. He stepped cautiously over a log, checking every angle about him carefully before continuing down the path, his eyes darting from one side to the other; his gaze ranged from the dirt and leaves before him to the brush on either side of him and even up to the low-hanging branches about him- one of the swinging traps had been set to trigger when a particular branch was brushed out of the way of the path, and had very nearly impaled him.

I have to give it to whomever set up these traps… they’re no amateurs. The traps on the path had slowly but surely gotten more and more complex, as well as harder to detect. The pitfall after the first trip wire had been well concealed enough to almost send him plunging into it head-first, and if he hadn’t already been alert to the possibility of such a trap he would most certainly have done just that. The thin weave of branches had been covered in leaves and other detritus from the forest floor, just as much of the barely-forged path was, and only a very slow, delicate step had saved him from a very nasty fall.

The next trap had been a surprise as well; this time the wire had been completely hidden in the brush and connected to a small branch beneath a camouflaged piece of wood. When Dark had stepped on it, the branch had snapped, releasing the thread that had sent the swinging log hurtling towards him.

Even the pitfall trap after that had surprised him. A large tree had fallen across the path, blocking it with a myriad of branches- a perfect place for any number of wire traps, leading to who knew what painful end. Dark Star had skirted the tree… only to find a pitfall trap near the exposed roots of the tree. He hadn’t seen it coming in the least, and only a quick levitation spell had saved him from being impaled on the jagged spikes at the bottom.

He’d never seen or even heard of some of the techniques used to spring traps in these woods, and most he was quite sure had been made up on the spot to suit the surroundings. I guess I really can’t blame Downdraft for not wanting his citizens to come in here, he thought as he plodded slowly along, his eyes flicking between the path and the trees around him. This place is certain death if you let your guard down.

He looked up into the canopy of the forest and to the sky beyond it, where the sun was beginning to sink in the western sky. He thought it prudent to try and estimate how much time he had left before Celestia’s daylight abandoned him entirely and left him in this carnival of death alone, and by his best reckoning he had perhaps two hours of light left, then a half hour or so of twilight before full darkness would consume him amidst these trees. Night fell swiftly in the heart of the forest; the trees seemed to welcome the night with open arms, hoarding the early dark beneath their boughs and shunning the sun’s attempts to dispel it.

And the last thing I want to be doing after dark is trying to blunder through this place.

He paused in his steps and allowed himself a glance backwards, his hood pulling tight around his ears as he craned his neck to see back down the path. He couldn’t place exactly when, but somewhere between the net trap and the second pitfall trap, the unseen eyes that had followed him for the better part of the day had suddenly vanished. Or at least, he could no longer feel them on him; perhaps they were still out there, laughing at his slow pace through the forest, praying for his death upon the traps that he had thus far eluded… but he somehow doubted it. I guess they figured I would never make it past the first few rounds, he thought. But instead of comforting him, the thought that his audience had disappeared filled him with an unshakable foreboding.

With a sigh and a shake of his head he turned back to the path and started forward again, his pace slow and measured, his steps soft and probing on the path ahead of him. Of course, it doesn’t help that I haven’t found a trap in almost a half an hour… That simple fact was starting to wear at his patience, and was slowing him down considerably. He knew that he had to find somewhere to spend the night, preferably some kind of clearing or thicket where he could set up a perimeter of defensive spells; the thought of simply ducking off the path and trying to hide amidst the foliage along the path didn’t appeal to him in the least, and Luna knew what sorts of horrible surprises were waiting for him there.

And I’d rather those surprises were left unfound, he thought with a shiver.

After another hour of plodding along at a snail’s pace, however, he was beginning to wish that something would happen. A single trickle of sweat ran its way down his neck as he picked his way forward, eyes squinting everywhere, trying to find the wire or trigger or net or pitfall that would again try to kill him. At least when I was dodging traps, something was happening… this anticipation is more stressful than any of those traps were!

He could see that was the plan, of course; a clever ploy to lure a pony into a false sense of security, believing they had made it past whatever traps had been set, only to trigger one at the very last moment to end said pony’s intrusion into the forest. That did not make it any easier to deal with, of course. Dark let out a vexed sigh, and again raised his head to look at the sky; he had less than an hour of sunlight left, and in an unknown forest it would take him easily that long to set up even a rudimentary camp.

The black stallion paused on the path, his eyes glued to the darkening blue sky beyond the trees. So the question is: do I stop, or do I go on? The area around him wasn’t exactly conducive to a camp site, but given the fact that he hadn’t run into any kinds of glens, glades, thickets or clearings since entering this impossible forest he didn’t hold out high hopes to run into such a thing before it got fully dark. Already the trees at the edges of his vision were growing darker; the night was gathering in the leafy depths of the forest, and it would cover even Dark Star without the slightest hesitation.

I guess I have to make camp… He felt his shoulders droop slightly with resignation; he had hoped to avoid spending the night out in the open, but it seemed that he had no other choice. He lowered his eyes back to the path and started to turn away, into the unknown depths of the trees around him when a sudden warm flicker of light on the path far ahead of him caught his attention.

Dark’s ears perked up beneath his hood, and he straightened his neck to try and catch a better glimpse of whatever it was, but even though the light remained, he could not see what it was; it was barely visible, clearly still a fair distance away and sheltered amid the tree trunks.

The stallion snorted softly, and his horn began to glow. He closed his eyes, and with a few whispered words the dark blue of his magic danced across his eyelids, leaving behind innumerable points of magic. After a moment, he opened his eyes and squinted into the gathering darkness.

A Farsight spell was not one that was common in modern-day Equestria, so he had gathered; most ponies simply relied on spyglasses or binoculars to observe things far away, but one thousand years ago such things were not always readily available to a soldier in the field. Farsight was not a difficult spell to master, and its usefulness was unparalleled in a battle situation; or, as it so happened, in a dark forest when one was trying to find out what lie ahead.

His vision leaped forward, as if he were hurtling through the trees like a Pegasus Tartaurus-bent on getting themselves killed; the branches and trunks blurred around the edges of his sight as the light in the distance resolved into a warm, flickering square of light: a window, set in a small house. Dark Star felt a smile tug at the edge of his mouth, and with the tiniest shift of his head he moved his Farsight from the window to the left, along the side of the house… and the house next to it. He flicked the spell ever so gently to the right, and found another house, and another, and yet more houses: a village, tucked away here in the depths of the forest. Dark Star felt his spirits lift at the sight of civilization; after all, a village nearby meant that he would not have to sleep in the forest… but as quickly as they had risen they were sent crashing back to the pit of his stomach.

The unicorn allowed the spell to dissipate, and his vision returned to his current surroundings as a frown slowly grew upon his lips. A village, out here in the middle of a forest filled with booby traps… I haven’t hit any traps for at least an hour… He raised his head high, his eyes gazing at the light in the distance. Is this where they’re keeping the kidnapped ponies? Considering how far he was from the nearest town and what he’d had to go through to get here, he couldn’t think of a more logical explanation: that this was, in fact, the place where these mysterious assailants were coming from, and the place where those ponies who had been kidnapped from Clyde’s Dale were being kept… but logic didn’t always give the full answer. It was entirely possible that this village was simply out in the middle of nowhere, and that he had completely missed the place where those ponies were being kept. These ponies could be completely innocent and have nothing to do with any kind of evil or mischief.

Dark felt his frown quirk into a subtle smile. But I guess… there’s only one way to find out.

With a subtle nod he started towards the village hidden away in the trees, his steps sure and firm, confident and calm. If nothing else, at least I won’t have to stay out in this forest tonight, he thought, unable to fight the sense of relief that spread across his shoulders at the affirmation. As much as he had no problems sleeping in the forest with nary but his cloak as cover, there was something menacing about this part of the forest that unsettled him; the hidden threat of unseen eyes, and a sense that-

A gentle pressure against his fetlocks was all the warning he got, and before he could even halt his stride the pressure evaporated to the sound of a gentle shnick and a frantic rushing of thread into the underbrush. Dark ground his teeth together.

“Son of a motherless…”

Out of the darkness ahead of him swooped a huge log, easily three times longer than he was tall, even if he stood on his hind legs; much too large for him to dodge, even if he threw himself to the side with all his strength. The log was covered in large, jagged spikes that whistled through the air as they plummeted towards Dark Star, leaving him with no time to dodge, no time to leap back, no time to do anything…

Dark blue magic flared bright, and Dark’s black cloak flicked open; there was a brilliant, clear ringing of steel that ended in a loud thock that sounded like a dozen ax heads striking their mark at the same moment. The trees overhead creaked and groaned as the weight on the ends of the long ropes shifted in ways it had not been meant to, splintering and snapping the boughs and allowing the giant spiky log to bury its deadly cargo into the ground on either side of the path. Then, as the rustling of the leaves overhead trailed off, silence fell again on the forest.

A gentle rasp of steel on leather heralded the return of the sword to its sheath, and the black cloak returned to its place covering the weapon. With a snort of derision, Dark Star started forward again towards the village, passing between the two huge portions of the once suspended log, both ends embedded firmly into the soft peat of the forest floor, their innumerable spikes turning them into giant burrs that were now stuck in the coat of the forest; his cloak brushed the single smooth side that both halves shared as he passed through and continued on towards the village.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Dark knew that he only had a few options available to him where this village was concerned, and that despite his desire for speed and stealth he had to rule a few out. The first and easiest would have simply been to sneak into the village, poke around until he found the missing ponies, then sneak out again. The second and only slightly more difficult would have been to charge in, sword drawn, magic blazing, and take the ponies by force, no matter the resistance. Both of these appealed to Dark Star, but one key fact forced him to reconsider them both: he simply did not know if the ponies he sought were in this town at all. It would be incredibly bad for Dark Star to be caught creeping through a town that was completely innocent in this whole matter, and even if this WAS the right town, he would have no idea where the kidnapped ponies were kept, not to mention how much resistance he might encounter if he was to try and take them by force.

Taking into consideration all of the possible options available to him, and using a simple system to decide what was useable and what was not, Dark Star rather quickly came to his conclusion, and acted upon it without hesitation.

As the sun was just beginning to set outside the forest, casting its last warm orange and gold light against the tops of the trees… Dark Star simply walked into the village. No tricks, no hiding, no nothing; after all, what better way to discern if the town was hostile than to walk right into it?

The stallion made sure that his cloak completely concealed his sword, as he had done in towns before; this time, however, it wasn’t just so he could avoid awkward questions and suspicious glances. He raised his head proudly as he entered the village, his green gaze sweeping the buildings and surroundings as he did so.

It was built normally enough; the houses were mostly short, single-level designs built out of precisely cut planks and covered with thatched roofs, obviously taking advantage of the tall trees around them to take the brunt of high winds or inclement weather. The buildings were spaced evenly apart in a line down the main street, which was plain old packed dirt all the way down; Dark Star supposed that with so many trees and root systems around it would be hard to maintain even the foundations of the houses, much less a neatly paved street.

He passed the tree line and entered the clearing in which the village was nestled, and he hadn’t gone ten feet into town when he met the first inhabitant, who stepped out from between two houses carrying a yolk across his shoulders, a bucket of water on each end. His coat was a brilliant yellow, and he sported neither horn nor wings; just a thick mop of dusty brown mane and a short brown tail that looked like it could use a good brushing, as well.

At first the other pony didn’t notice Dark at all; he was turned away and slowly making his way up the street; the black stallion had to actually slow down to avoid walking into the much smaller stallion, and as he got close to him he cleared his throat gently.

“Pardon me, sir-,” he began, but that was as far as he got. The other stallion started with a gasp and jolted so hard that the yolk slipped sideways across his shoulders, tipped upwards and deposited the two buckets of water onto the ground and the pony who had been carrying them. The yellow earth pony sputtered and shook his head angrily.

“By the Moon and Sun! I told you guys NOT to sneak up on me when I’m taking water to-,” The pony turned towards Dark Star, his face a mask of anger and annoyance; but when he saw that it was not the ponies he thought it was, his eyes widened and his anger was replaced by surprise and alarm. Dark Star smiled at him in as friendly of a fashion as he could muster.

“Excuse me,” he said politely. “I’m sorry to bother you, but I was making my way through the forest, and was looking for a place to stay for the night. Is there an inn you could direct me to?”

The other pony stared at him, his blue eyes as wide as dinner plates; then, just as Dark Star was about to repeat his query for fear that he had somehow broken the pony’s brain, the stallion shook his head and laughed heartily.

“You did what?!” he said, his voice boisterous. “You came through the forest?? Through that forest?!” He pointed back the way Dark Star had come with a hoof, and Dark nodded slightly.

“Yes, that forest,” he said, trying his best to hide the derisive edge that attempted to sneak into his words.

“Well shave my tail and call me a deer!” the yellow pony said, rearing in place and giving his hooves a jovial paw at the air before settling back to the ground and turning his eyes once more to Dark, his smile broad. “We haven’t had anypony make it through that forest in a long time,” he said, taking a few steps around Dark Star as he spoke, his eyes sweeping the larger stallion as if he were something completely new to the world.

Dark Star frowned slightly. “What do you mean?” he said, turning to follow the other stallion as he cantered around him.

“I mean,” the stallion said, stopping and grinning again at Dark. “That ever since those traps went up we haven’t been able to get anypony in or out of this village safely. The ones who tried either came back beaten and bloody, or didn’t come back at all…” His ears drooped slightly, and Dark’s heart went out to him. If the caliber of traps that I encountered were anything to go by, any pony who tried this before probably didn’t get too far. “BUT,” the other pony said, his ears perking back up happily. “Now that somepony made it through, that must mean the traps are cleaned out, right??” He bounced happily in place for a moment. “That means we can leave, right, sir?!”

The black stallion squinted ever so slightly at the yellow pony before him. There was something… off about him, and not just the strange stuff he was spouting about being trapped here against his will. He couldn’t tell exactly what, but SOMEthing was different… Maybe it’s just a trick of the twilight, he thought. Low light plays tricks on a pony better than the best stage magician ever could. But even as he tried to brush the thought from his mind it stuck to him like a fresh lollipop in a foal’s mane; something was just a little off about this pony…

However, Dark Star wasn’t about to drop his façade. He let his ears droop just slightly before sighing and shaking his head.

“No, I’m sorry… the forest was very heavily booby trapped,” he confessed. “I just barely made it through myself…” He gave the other pony a smile he hoped looked confident. I was never a very good actor. “But if you want, I could try to lead anypony who’s interested down the same path- I triggered a good number of the traps out there, so it wouldn’t be as tricky to get through…” But even before he finished, the other pony’s face fell mightily, until it looked as if he might cry.

“Oh… no, sir…” he shook his head slowly. “No, they’ll replace the traps this very night, and by tomorrow they’ll all be different…” He sighed heavily. “Oh well… I guess it was too much to hope for…”

“What do you mean?” Dark asked, his voice sharp. “Who will replace the traps?”

“The ponies who keep us here, sir,” the other pony said, his ears drooping against his head. “We don’t know who or why, but… well sir, we’ve been cut off here in this village for quite some time, unable to leave or get help because of those savages.” He turned his head and spat at the ground. “When I saw you, I thought they might have moved on, but… I guess not.” The pony’s eyes stayed on the ground for a very long moment before he finally sighed and raised them back to Dark, a smile forced back onto his face. “But, that’s no reason to not at least make you feel comfortable here sir.” He gestured towards the village with a hoof. “Please, let me take you to the inn.”

Dark Star squinted ever so slightly at the yellow stallion again, but he managed to force a smile onto his face, as well.

“Thank you, sir,” he said, nodding politely. “And if I may ask your name?”

The yellow stallion smiled again, and again Dark Star felt that strange pang of suspicion, like there was something very obviously wrong with this pony staring him right in the face but he was refusing to see it.

“My name is Hay Bale, sir- I’m the town’s handipony and farmer… as much as we can farm, at least.” He sighed, but his smile remained friendly. “C’mon, sir; I’ll take you where you can bunk for the night.”

“Gladly, Hay Bale; the forest took it out of me, I’m afraid.”

The yellow stallion nodded and started down the street at a good pace, with Dark Star walking next to him. As they made their way deeper into town, other ponies appeared; some poking their noses out of windows to examine the newcomer, others pausing mid-step to stare open-mouthed at the strange new pony in town. In spite of himself, Dark Star smirked slightly; it was a look he had gotten used to from pretty much every town he went to, but somehow this felt… almost amusing, somehow. I guess it’s because they probably would have looked at any pony like that, he thought. There were a good deal of ponies here, it seemed; most, however, appeared more than happy to stay out of Dark Star’s way, and nopony decided to join Hay Bale’s two-pony parade towards the far end of town.

The small thatched cottages marched along in several neat offset rows along the main street, about fifty of them in all if Dark’s reckoning was correct; when the rows finally stopped, a wide village green opened up around the black stallion. However, it was clear that this green wasn’t used for parties and gatherings; instead of neatly mowed grass, row after row of tilled earth was neatly kept, each row marked with a different picture of a plant. Carrots, celery, tomatoes, lettuce, everything that you could find at a farmer’s market was growing right here, and Dark realized that this must be what Hay Bale meant by “as much as they could farm”.

However, it wasn’t the small farming operation that caught Dark Star’s eyes; there was a house across the clearing, one that was much larger than any of the others. It was built in the same style, but it was two floors instead of one, and easily three times as wide as any of the other buildings. The windows in it were dark despite the lateness of the day, and when Hay Bale caught him staring at it he simply chuckled.

“That was our old Mayor’s house,” he explained. “He was a great gentlecolt, that one; but after he died, we just couldn’t put somepony else up in the house he worked so hard on himself. It’s sat empty for quite some time, and will stay that way, I guess.”

Dark nodded absently, his eyes darting this way and that along the edge of the village that he could see; as they turned a corner and headed up one of the two side streets in the village, away from the Mayor’s home, Dark spotted something unusual: a small, run-down shack that didn’t seem to match the rest of the village at all. The rest of the town was built meticulously, all the wood and materials of the homes perfect and precise; this shack appeared hastily built, with a simple slanting roof instead of the thatch of the others.

It could simply be a tool shed, he reasoned. After all, these ponies probably didn’t think they would have to farm on their own here in the forest. But the location didn’t make any sense; it wasn’t built near the farm on the green- instead, it was built almost behind one of the smaller houses on the side street, as if it was being watched over.

The stallion filed that away as he lost sight of the small shack around the corner of a building.

Hay Bale finally stopped walking and turned to face Dark Star with another large smile.

“Well, here we are, sir!” he said, gesturing again with his hoof. “The only inn in town; I’m sure that old Dusty’ll give you a good deal, seeing that you’re the only customer he’s had in almost six months!”

Dark Star glanced at the building, then offered Hay Bale a small smile.

“Thank you very much, Mr. Bale,” he said with a nod. “I’m very much looking forward to a good night’s rest.” He turned to enter the building, but turned and looked back at the yellow stallion. “I don’t suppose you would be willing to give me a grand tour of the town tomorrow, would you?” He gave the pony a hopeful smile. “After all, I might be here a while.”

Hay Bale smiled broadly and nodded again. “Absolutely!” he said. “It’ll be great to get to know the new addition in town!” He gave a wave of his hoof and turned down the street. “Sleep well! We’ll introduce you to the town tomorrow!”

Dark waved his own hoof after the yellow pony before heading into the inn to procure a room; as it turned out, Hay Bale was more than correct- old Dusty literally gave him the room for free, and told him that he could keep it as long as he wanted.

Dark thanked him, refraining from telling him that he wouldn’t be occupying it long at all.

~*~*~*~

The old Mayor’s manor was dark and dank, and as the setting sun brought darkness to the land it slowly became even more so. Hay Bale winced as he carefully pushed the door of the manor open and stepped inside, his knees quivering ever so slightly as he did so.

“H-h-helloooo..?” he called, trying to keep the fear from his voice as he did so and knowing that it wouldn’t help even a little. “H-hello, s-s-sir..?? I-I’ve come to report a-a-about the-,”

Suddenly, a sharp laugh from the far end of the black room caused him to gasp and cower to his knees, his eyes squeezed shut.

“You’ve come to report about the newcomer, I presume?” a deep voice said from the darkness. Hay Bale shivered in spite of himself; the voice sounded like the rasp of fire against ice, an angry hiss that seemed to slice into his soul and beg him for violence, rage and hate.

“Y-y-y-yes, sir,” Hay Bale said, forcing himself to stand straight. “I-I’ve set him up at Dusty’s Inn; he should be easy enough to find…” He swallowed. “D-do you think this is a g-good idea, sir..?” he asked quietly. “I mean… he d-d-did find his way through the forest…”

Now the voice laughed derisively, and Hay Bale took an unconscious step backwards towards the door.

“A good idea? No. It’s a perfect idea,” the voice said. There was the rustle of wings in the darkness, and a sharp clacking sound that seemed to snap and echo from everywhere in the building. From deep in the shadows, a gentle red light flared, then died out. “I shall personally make sure that our… guest… has a night that he will never forget.”

“Y-yes, sir!”

“Are the others prepared?”

“Y-yes, sir- they’re ready for the ceremony.”

The darkness remained complete, yet the smile from the voice’s owner was impossible to miss.

“Excellent.”

Chapter 6

If there was one thing that Dark Star always prided himself on, it was always having a plan. A good plan, a bad plan, an escape plan or a plan of attack, it didn’t matter- Dark had at least one and usually two or more in place at any given time. Often, however, this led to long bouts of intense consideration on his part as he tried to use the very best plan for the job; the plan that would be the least dangerous, the one which would accomplish the most objectives the fastest, and so on and so forth. Often, it would only take him a split second to find the correct plan and employ it, but occasionally he would find himself in a mental stalemate as each plan revealed problems, and no one plan stuck out to him as “best”.

This was the situation he found himself in as he looked out the small window in the room he’d been given at the inn; the layer of dust on everything in the innkeeper’s supposed “best room” had told him that at least Hay Bale hadn’t been lying about not getting visitors in their town. As he watched the sky above the town darken as the world slid towards night, his mind was racing as he tried to consider every possible angle of every plan available to him; but to his irritation he was running into snags in every single one of them.

Dark Star sighed as he shuffled his hooves across the bare wood floor beneath them, his ears flicking in agitation. The naked truth of the matter is that I just don’t have enough information, he thought, and as unfortunate as it was he knew that he was right.

What little he knew for certain was that ponies had been disappearing into the forest, either because they were taken in the night or because they had gone in after said kidnapped ponies and simply never returned. That was, however, the extent of his absolute certainty; the rest was simply implied and inferred, but it was all he had to go on.

The ponies of Clyde’s Dale seemed far more familiar with this than they should have had to be, he thought as he gazed out the window, so it’s safe to assume that things like this have been happening frequently enough that they know what to do if it happens, but on a non-linear timeline so as to keep them unprepared for the attacks, whenever they come. Dark snorted. Clever of them; keeps the town from organizing a ready defense.

His eyes swept the portion of the street visible outside his window as he shifted slightly and felt his sword bump against his leg. If I knew for certain that the ponies were here, getting them out wouldn’t be much of a task, he thought. No matter what that charlatan Hay Bale told me, I highly doubt that they would be able to replace all of those traps in one single night. His mind flickered back to the sturdy earth pony who had brought him here- the one pony he’d had any real interaction with in the town… and the one, single reason he thought that the kidnapped ponies were here.

A group of four ponies wandered past his window, their curious eyes darting towards his room intently; when they noticed him standing in the window, however, they became very, very interested in the ground around their hooves, and simultaneously seemed to remember that they were urgently needed somewhere else. Dark watched the group fly off down the street, his eyes narrow.

Any reactions that the majority of the ponies here have had are fairly commonplace for an isolated village. Curiosity, distrust and fear; these things are to be expected when you’re dealing with a population who has been cut off from the outside world. His lip twisted. I guess I should feel lucky- it would have been worse if they had cut themselves off purposely. However, of all the reactions he’d seen and judged Hay Bale’s had been the least… convincing.

He just gave up. Any kind of change in a situation like this should have spurred a desire to escape, I would think. The stallion sighed again, and this time it was tinged with vexation. But that’s pure speculation- every pony is different, and perhaps Hay Bale is just too disheartened to feel any hope at all...

Dark stepped away from the window and turned towards the interior of the modest room, his eyes sweeping every inch of the woodwork around the door, the windows and the ceiling. But something tells me that wasn’t the case. It wasn’t anything he could rationalize… but Dark felt like he was in the right spot. He didn’t know the ponies were here… but he knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that if they weren’t here, he’d find a clue to their whereabouts in this town.

And that, of course, is where it all fell down. He had quite a few plans for escape, for rescuing the kidnapped ponies, and even had contingency plans that took into account all kinds of injuries they might have sustained… but until he could find more evidence that they were here, or had been here, he had no reason to go about strong-arming the populace. In fact, doing just that could and most likely would end very, very badly. But I HAVE to get out of this room and try to find something, he thought as he paced to the foot of the bed in the room where his cloak lay splayed out across the threadbare quilt that covered it. The more quietly I can do that, the better… but what are the chances that these ponies are just going to let me wander about their town? And more importantly, if I DO get a chance to wander about, how am I going to ensure that I’m not followed or observed? He sighed once more.

I think the bigger question is: how long can I just sit here and do NOTHING before I rip down the walls and start taking the town apart piece by piece..?

As luck, or fate, or both would have it, Dark Star didn’t have long to wait.

He had barely finished deciding exactly which wall he would take out first when there was a tentative rapping at his door. The unicorn’s eyes darted to it, and his horn lit up brightly; off to his right, his cloak lifted smoothly from the bed and settled neatly over his back and shoulders. He clasped it tightly beneath his chin and made sure it concealed his sword completely before he unlocked the door with his magic and cleared his throat.

“Come in, the door isn’t locked,” he said, trying to sound as casual as he possibly could. The knob turned, and into the room walked Hay Bale, a smile plastered on his face so firmly that Dark could have sworn he saw glue at the edges.

“Hello again, sir!” the earth pony greeted him cordially as he stepped into the room and shut the door behind him. “I trust that your lodgings are acceptable, sir?” He turned to face Dark Star, his smile wide, but Dark didn’t miss the way his blue eyes darted sporadically around the room before finally coming to rest on his own. “I was told that this was the best room at the inn, sir; I hope it’s suitable?”

If by suitable you mean dusty enough to choke a timberwolf, then yes, Dark thought, but he thought a comment like that might disenchant the already unstable Hay Bale; and unstable he was, if his body language was anything to go by. He kept shifting uncomfortably from side to side, as if he longed to be anywhere but here, and even from across the room Dark Star could hear that his breathing was sharp and fast, as if he had run a marathon all the way to Dark’s room. The dark stallion watched him closely for a moment, which made the already obviously nervous Hay Bale squirm more. It was all Dark could do to keep a slight smile from curving his lips. Perfect. I can work with nervous. Nerves betray secrets faster than torture or interrogation.

“The room is very nice, Hay Bale,” Dark said as cordially as he could. “Thank you again for putting me up here for the night…” He shook his head slightly. “Or, as long as I’ll be staying here, I guess. If the forest and the ponies in it are as dangerous as you say, I may be staying here for a very long time.” He dropped his head ever so slightly, and hoped he managed to look appropriately forlorn. Across the room, Hay Bale took a step forward.

“Don’t you worry about that, sir,” he said, and Dark raised his head again to find the stallion smiling- or at least, trying to smile. It was so forced it looked almost like a grimace… and once more, Dark thought there was something completely off about him, even if he couldn’t put a hoof to what it was, exactly. “We won’t charge an unfortunate bystander like yourself bits for a room when there’s no choice in whether or not you stay, sir.”

These ‘sirs’ are becoming quite a nuisance…

“But I do have some news that may lift your spirits, sir!” Hay Bale continued. “Our village elder has decided to make you his guest of honor at the feast we were going to be holding tonight. He’d like you to feel welcome, sir, even if the circumstances aren’t quite what any of us would like them to be.”

“Well, that’s very… nice of him.” Dark arched an eyebrow. “But I certainly hope he’s not holding a feast on my account.” He gestured to the window. “If you ponies are stuck here, your food supplies must be limited after the winter. I’d rather not be the source of shortfalls later.” His eyes narrowed as he watched Hay Bale closely.

The yellow earth pony shook his head vigorously. “Oh no, sir, please don’t misunderstand. We were already planning a feast for tonight; you being our guest of honor is just a feather in our cap, as it were!”

“Oh, you were already planning a feast for tonight?” Dark smiled disarmingly, but when he spoke his voice was razor sharp. “And what are you celebrating? If I’m not mistaken, the time for the Spring Festival is long past.”

It was, perhaps, an underhanded trick, but Dark Star was desperate for information; and if Hay Bale did in fact turn out to be accomplice to this little conspiracy, as Dark thought he was, then the black stallion certainly would not feel the least bit guilty about putting him on the spot like this. Hay Bale opened and closed his mouth once, and Dark was pleased by the panic he saw flit through the other stallion’s eyes. It’s not always loose lips that sink ships, Dark thought. The moment of anxious silence stretched on in the room, and Dark was about to continue the conversation when Hay finally found his tongue again.

“I-it’s not the Spring Festival, sir, it’s… um…” He paused for the barest of moments before plowing on. “It’s a festival to lift the spirits of our poor, careworn town, sir. It was a hard winter, sir, and while we had our Spring Festival on time, things are still looking pretty bleak with the forest closed off to us like it is. So, our village elder decided that we would take the risk of being a little short later in the season to throw another feast, if it meant making our townsponies feel better, sir.” Hay let the words hang in the air, as if seeing if they would come crashing down around him. Dark Star let them stay there, not bothering to fight them with his own; he watched Hay’s shoulders straighten as the lie cemented itself upright and seemed to hold tightly, giving the earth pony the slim boost of courage he needed to continue. “The elder simply wanted you, our newest addition, to join us so we can make proper introductions, sir!” He smiled. “I hope you’ll accept, sir. It’d be an awful let-down if you didn’t.”

They were having a feast, all right, he thought. But not for why he says… It was fairly obvious that Hay Bale was lying, and lying through his teeth. He is obviously not used to having to deal with outsiders, or at the very least he’s not used to doing this particular job. Whichever it was, Dark felt justified in writing Hay off as an unhelpful party in the town, if not an enemy directly. The unicorn cast a critical eye to the earth pony, and it was all he could do not to snicker in derision. I don’t think he’d try to fight me even if he had to.

But that information itself didn’t help Dark with his decision. He knew that Hay Bale was lying to him- he’d seen enough deception in his lifetime to know it when he saw it. Exactly why he was lying, the actual reasons behind his duplicity remained hidden from Dark, however... and no matter what he tried to tell himself to the contrary, Dark felt that he would not be able to crack this particular nut without throwing his whole self into it, body and mind. So, naturally, there’s only one thing to do.

“Of course I’ll come,” Dark said. “After all, it wouldn’t do to offend the elder and ponies of my… adopted village, would it?” He gave Hay his best smile. “I’d be honored to attend as your elder’s guest, Hay Bale.”

The earth pony nodded gratefully, and his ears drooped. “That’s great, sir, just great!” Relief painted his voice, and Dark Star suddenly wondered what Hay had been told to do if he’d refused to capitulate. For the briefest of moments Dark considered changing his mind, but he ultimately held his tongue. After all, this might give me a chance to see who’s behind this game. Hay Bale took a step towards the door, the smile on his face genuine for the first time since he’d entered Dark’s room. “Now, the feast won’t be starting for another hour; our elder suggests you take the time to freshen up from your journey and rest. I’ll be coming back in an hour to get you, sir, so you don’t have to worry about anything at all.”

Dark’s ear twitched, and just as Hay turned towards the door he spoke again.

“Actually, Hay Bale, would it be too much trouble to ask for somepony to show me around town a bit more thoroughly?” he asked. “If this is going to be my… port of call for a while, I’d like to get to know it as well as possible.” Hay turned back towards him, and he grinned sheepishly. “I really don’t like getting lost, so I try to learn my surroundings quickly in a new place.” This time, it was clear that Hay Bale had been told what to say, and he didn’t hesitate for even a moment before answering.

“I’m sorry, sir, but everypony available is helping prepare the feast.”

“Every pony? Every single pony in the village is preparing the feast?”

“Yes, sir, every last one; it’s a big deal in our village, and everypony is eager to help. We all gather in the town square and see what we can do to help before everything starts, and we all stay until everything is cleaned up at the end.”

“Oh, I see. Well, what about you?”

“You know I’d love to show you around town again, sir, but I’m supposed to be helping too. And I’m late, to boot, sir.” He gave Dark an apologetic smile that almost seemed sincere. “The elder suggests you stay here and rest, sir- there’ll be plenty of time to explore tomorrow.” Hay grinned in what he obviously meant to be a friendly way. “And besides, isn’t it more fun to leave the feast preparations as a surprise, sir? It’ll make for a memorable first night in the village!”

“I… I suppose so,” Dark said, allowing his face to fall ever so slightly. “That does make it easier to stay here…” He looked up to Hay again, and he smiled again. “An hour, you say?”

“Just an hour, sir, and then you’ll be treated to all the hospitality our town can muster!” Hay Bale said with a nod. “I’ll come get you in one hour on the dot, sir. Until then!” He turned, put a hoof to the knob of the door, stepped through and closed it behind himself with a soft click.

The unicorn watched the door for a long moment, his hooves glued to the floor as he strained his ears; he heard the earth pony’s heavy hoof-falls thump down the hall, getting softer and softer as he got farther away. His ear flicked as he closed his eyes and held his breath, eliminating all other stimuli and variables to his hearing; he heard the dim plod of Hay’s hooves stop for a moment, and a distant muttering that was a brief exchange of words with the innkeeper in the lobby down the hall that Dark couldn’t quite make out. Then the sound of hooves again, more than one this time; the door opened and closed in the entrance to the inn, and then absolute silence reigned.

Immediately Dark Star’s horn flared to life; a pulsating blue aura surrounded the hilt of his sword, and after a few moments the grip of the blade began to glow a gentle blue as the magic sank into it. The stallion held his magic around the hilt for a few more moments before releasing it, yet even after his horn had gone dark the hilt of his sword did not; it continued to glow with the same soft blue light that it had when his magic had touched it. Dark shifted and watched the glow carefully; it had been a great while since he’d attempted this spell, and he wanted to make absolutely sure that it had worked properly. Silently he counted off the seconds as they passed, meticulously keeping time as best he could. Finally, just before he reached sixty seconds, a tiny portion at the pommel of the sword darkened and faded away, leaving the shining silver of the pommel just as it had been before the spell had been cast.

That’s close enough, he thought, letting his sword settle back to his side. It wasn’t a spell that he’d used often, but it was one that had come in handy when trying to time an attack with several other groups; and now it would allow him to keep track of the time before Hay Bale came back to get him for the feast.

He turned sharply, his cloak swishing around him as he hurried to the window. An hour seems like a long time when you’re just waiting, but it feels like the blink of an eye when you have something to do. The stallion all but pressed his nose to the glass as he scanned the street outside, his eyes darting to and fro. Hay Bale said everypony would be helping with the feast, but that could easily be yet another strand in the weave of this lie. After all, what better way to lure a target into complacency than to let him think he’s alone, and can do whatever he wants? However, the street outside did look properly devoid of activity. If he was telling the truth, I’ll be able to scout around for a bit, and maybe I’ll find something that can tell me where the kidnapped ponies are being kept. His eyes swept over the rooftops that he could see, checking for any Pegasi who might be lurking about- though all the ponies he’d seen in this village so far had been earth ponies.

If Hay Bale was lying, however, and this is a trap… Dark’s eyes swept the street once more as he grinned. Well, I guess that would answer a lot of questions real quick, wouldn’t it?

Dark’s hooves slid up the glass pane of the window and pressed upwards against the frame, opening it as quietly as he could; it squeaked once or twice as he opened it, but it didn’t shriek or groan as he did so, and he silently thanked the innkeeper for at least maintaining his building properly, regardless of the lack of guests. He lifted the window open and slipped out into the street, closing the window silently behind himself before turning to his left and trotting quickly down the street, away from the main thoroughfare that sat to his right. An hour may not be a lot of time, but it’ll have to do, he thought as he approached the end of the street. But having so little time means that I’m going to have to prioritize my targets instead of investigating at random.

He tucked himself into the shadows of the building to his right side as he stuck his nose around the corner. The coast was clear; if there were ponies watching him, they were doing a very good job of hiding themselves, and clearly they were interested to see what he would do. The street before him was narrow, little more than an alleyway that had been worn down to dirt by the hooves of many, many ponies who had trod there before him. It ran east and west, and would take him to both the entrance to town and towards the town square and the manor house that rested there.

Dark pulled his nose back around the corner and frowned. I guess if I had to start somewhere, my point of interest would be the old mayor’s house, he thought. But that’s in full view of the town square, where every pony in town is currently setting up this feast of theirs. He sighed. That’s a little more attention that I want right now… The stallion glanced around the corner again, making sure that the street was still deserted as he considered his options. I suppose if I could use an invisibility spell that wouldn’t be a problem. He snorted softly. But that’s not really an option.

Dark Star was a powerful unicorn, but what his magic had in brute strength, it lacked in true finesse. He could use his sword with delicate alacrity, but when it came down to weaving complex and fragile spells like an invisibility spell, he failed horribly. As like as not if he tried to cast one on himself it would fail right in the middle of the town square, and everypony would see him. Or, I could lose control while weaving it in the first place, and it could explode in my face like last time. He winced and shook his head. No way am I trying that again. I guess if Twilight Sparkle was here, she could master a spell like that in less than an hour and help me get to the manor, he thought. As things stand, that just means that the manor is off limits to me for now... but where else if not there?

Almost unbidden, the image of the run-down ramshackle shed he’d seen squatting near one of the homes just off the square rose in his mind. It had stood out as unusual to him then, but compared to the manor, it seemed a long shot. But… I guess it would be remiss of me to ignore my instincts.

He cast his eyes around the street once more before finally darting along the edges of the buildings, keeping to the growing shadows of the evening as he hurried to the west, his hooves making little noise on the dirt below him. The sun was almost set, now, and the town was shrouded in twilight. In spite of his need for stealth and speed, Dark Star smirked to himself. The perfect time of day to go skulking around, wouldn’t you say? His hoofsteps were soft and sure, his body perfectly balanced as he slid from shadow to shadow, his cloak flowing about him as if the night itself had descended and draped itself about his shoulders to conceal him from view. Above him, the first star of the night flickered to life as the sun finally dipped below the horizon, as if to watch him in his perilous foray.

As he approached the far western edge of the town, he could hear the bustle from the square. It wasn’t a cacophony by any means, but it was certainly loud enough for Dark to hear it above the silence of the night, and even from this distance he could hear the sound of large objects being shuffled around as well as the waxing and waning voices of a good number of ponies. He pressed himself against the dark wall of a home, his ears pricked attentively. They certainly don’t appear to be trying to ambush me, he thought as he listened. He even heard the voice of a pony who sounded like she was barely more than a filly, and from her tone she was complaining about something.

It sounds like a normal gathering. He held his breath, listening closely to the gathered crowd of ponies for several long moments; as he did so, an overwhelming sense of absurdity washed over Dark Star. If this was just a regular party, and he was sneaking about town in the most clandestine manner that he could muster all for naught… The stallion shook his head and turned away from the subtle glow from the square, squashing that feeling as he set his eyes back to the darkness of the narrow street. If that’s the case, then I’ll feel ridiculous while enjoying a party, he thought. There are far worse things that could happen to me.

The evening air was chill around his legs as he slid quietly down the street, his presence a mere whisper in the night as he passed several more of the oddly identical houses until finally a strange abnormality loomed up out of the darkness at him; a shadow that was different from the perfectly straight apparitions of the well-constructed buildings that surrounded it, a slightly smaller shadow that leaned slightly to one side, away from the house that was obviously meant to guard it as if it longed to be free.

From beneath the shadow of his hood, Dark’s eyes darted around the small building, first towards the lighted street beyond the corner of the house next to the shed, then back across the two buildings to the shadows of the side street. His steps slowed to a stop, and his ears perked attentively. He could still hear the mishmash of muffled noise coming from the town square, but there was no audible evidence that they were alerted to his presence. The side street remained completely silent as Dark slid forward the last few feet to the door of the lean-to, his eyes sweeping the outline of the door in the low light. The sky was completely dark, now, and a quick glance at his sword told Dark that he had already exhausted over half his time. Time flies when you’re having fun… or clandestinely invading enemy territory, he thought wryly. He let his cloak fall back in place, hiding the subtle glow of his sword hilt as he turned his eyes back to the door.

The entire building was little more than a shadow, and the door was no better; Dark couldn’t even tell which side was knob and which side was hinges in the deepening night. He started to feel around the edges of the door, briefly considering simply lighting it up with his magic and ripping it from the building itself. That didn’t seem like a very surreptitious way of doing things, however. Finally, his right hoof touched something that protruded from the wood about halfway down- the knob, or what played the part of the knob, at least. Dark poked at it with his hoof and quickly realized that it wasn’t even a proper knob at all, but a crude handle sticking out of the door. His hoof followed the long, thin piece of metal downwards until it ended in a thick slab of metal; a smaller piece of metal clinked gently against the larger piece as he brushed it. Dark frowned. That sounded like a lock, he thought. If it was indeed a lock, then he had two choices- pick the lock or rip the door off- and BOTH of them required magic.

Well, I guess if they see me, they see me, he thought with a snort. I’m not much good if I can’t get through a simple lock.

The unicorn took a deep, steady breath as his horn lit up ever so softly, barely casting enough illumination out of his hood to see the lock by; for lock it was, rusty and square, latching the heavy door in place via a U-shaped piece of metal and the large metal slab he’d felt before, a slab that ended in a hinge on the wall. In the light of his horn, the wood of the building looked new to Dark Star’s untrained eye, even if the lock didn’t. That must be why it’s so different compared to the houses, he thought as he took the lock in his magic. Everything else is so precise and perfect, while this looks like it was constructed recently. The rusted lock lifted ever so gently up from where it hung, and Dark eyed it critically. This lock looks like it was picked out of somepony’s cellar about a decade after its prime, he thought. His magic melted into the lock, coating the rusted mechanisms inside the casing with a dim blue light as he closed his eyes and felt around for the tumblers inside. Probably the only one they could find to secure a door in such a way. That lent credibility to the theory that this had been hastily constructed, but didn’t do much to tell him what was on the other side of this door.

And there’s only one way to find that out, Dark thought. He smiled as his magic found the tumblers inside the corroded lock; he gave his horn a small jerk to the left, and the large lock made an equally large click and popped open.

~*~*~*~*~

I deserve this.

It was the only thing the mare could think as she sat in the blackness that comprised her world at the moment. It was the same despairing thought that had pervaded her existence since she had been brought to this place- this horrible, dark, frigid shack with the unforgiving dirt floor. She shifted her weight and felt an uncomfortable squeezing in her side as she sat up, shaking her mane out as she did so. She could feel the sticks and twigs in it, still stuck there from her terrifying abduction from the village where she had been staying, and she was certain that they would stay there until the moment she…

She sighed in the darkness, and the empty hole that had opened up in her chest over the past year seemed to yawn wide before her, waiting just as surely as the blackness around her to swallow her up.

I deserve this…

As she had so many times before, she tried to be strong; she tried to sit up straight, throw her nose in the air and simply believe with all her heart that nothing was beyond her- that there wasn’t anything she couldn’t do… but there, in the darkness of that shed, the shadows of her heart lengthened and filled her with despair… despair at where her chosen path had brought her, and regret, oh Celestia, regret…

She’d never felt so hollow, so lost or so alone, even though she knew she shared this shed with three other ponies, citizens from the village she’d stopped in. There was a stallion, she knew; he’d tried talking to them all when they’d first been placed in here, had tried to calm them all down and had even tried to reason with their captors to no avail. He’d tried to comfort everypony else and had tried, much to the mare’s distaste, to try and converse with everypony in the shack, as if that would keep their spirits up. He hadn’t had much success, and had eventually lapsed into silence. The mare was fine with that… she’d gotten used to the sound of silence in her life, even though it had been less than a year since she would have done anything for cheers from a crowd… cheers from anypony…

She felt that uncomfortable feeling building in her chest, that sickening pressure at the base of her throat that meant she was going to cry again. AGAIN. It seemed like all she did was cry these days… Her eyes started to burn, and she swiped at them angrily with the back of her hoof. If I start crying, the filly in the corner will start crying again… she thought. She was a very selfish mare, she knew that… but somehow the sound of that little filly crying while her mother whispered empty comforts and lies about being rescued drove a knife into her bitter heart and twisted there. She didn’t know if it was the hollow promises or the filly’s tears that brought the knife out, and she didn’t care to find out. I don’t want to hear her cry again! Not again!

But the mare’s tears would not be dissuaded; they slowly built in her eyes, pooling like rainwater in a basin until finally she could hold them no more. She stifled a sob as the tears began to pour down her cheeks, her chest squeezing painfully as she struggled to cry silently in the deathly quiet shed. The quiet wasn’t what bothered her, truthfully- it was the darkness, the engulfing blackness that was broken only by the torch that their keeper brought with him when he brought what little food and water they had been given. If only I could use my magic, she thought… but her captors were very smart. She lifted a hoof to the base of her horn, where a ring was nestled tightly amidst her flowing mane. Every unicorn worth their salt knew that there were materials in the world that would hamper or hinder magic entirely, but they weren’t used very often… at least not in civilized parts of the world. The ring was sealed to her horn, and without her magic she had no hope of removing it; she also knew that the mare with the filly had a similar ring on her horn, so there was no hope of removing it that way. And so they sat, trapped in the dark… waiting for who knew what…

I deserve this, she thought again. I deserve to be forgotten forever… I deserve to be kidnapped and beaten and… and Celestia knows what else! She wrapped her hooves around her muddy coat and squeezed herself as she rocked back and forth, silent sobs wracking her relentlessly. She opened her mouth, trying to breathe as quietly as she could, but to her dismay she gasped as her body convulsed in wretched self-pity yet again. She could taste her tears now, salty and hot at the corners of her mouth; tears that followed so many others that had gone before.

There had been a time not so long ago that she had been somepony, even if she had not been a very important somepony. She had been a performer, an icon of stage and show… but one simple trip to a small village not unlike the town of Clyde’s Dale had changed that; one trip that should have been a few quick, easy bits that had turned into a huge thorn in her soul that had changed her dramatically and forever. A thorn that pained her even now, digging ever deeper into her, festering and infecting as it went.

She had tried to be like them, those ponies whom she admired and hated, but it hadn’t worked… and she had, in the end, become what she had feared over anything else in this entire world: a failure.

The mare clapped a hoof over her mouth to stifle another, more insistent sob, but it slipped past her and seemed to echo like a clap of thunder in the small space. Off in the corner, over her own miserable noise, she heard the filly stir and whimper something to her mother; a sound that only exacerbated her wretchedness. Well done, you disgusting creature- you’ve gone and made the filly scared! Again! She ground her teeth together with enough force that it vibrated her eyes. You truly are a worthless piece of trash… can’t even hold your emotions together for the sake of a scared filly…

And yet even as she berated herself… she knew that this was what she had bought with her actions. This was the destiny she had so painstakingly chosen for herself… a destiny of darkness, pain, and tears.

A destiny that I deserve…

But destiny is a funny, funny thing sometimes.

As so many times before, they heard rattling at the door before they saw anything. The stallion suddenly spoke; something whispered that the mare didn’t bother to listen to as she simply curled up on the floor, awash in her misery. Just leave me be… leave me here in the darkness. In the other corner, the filly whimpered again, and her mother spoke softly to her as she no doubt moved herself to block her daughter from the view of the door as she had done every time their kidnappers had brought them food or water.

The mare turned away from the door, her mane bunching beneath her in the mud. Nothing that could possibly happen could interest her at all.

After a much shorter amount of time than usual, the noise from the door ceased and the lock made a solid whump as it landed in the dirt outside the shack. The mare’s ear twitched; that was different. The door creaked softly as it opened, and to her surprise she saw not the shivering glow of firelight on the wall, but a soft, steady blue glow that could only come from one thing: magic.

The mare sighed and curled up a bit tighter on the floor. Wonderful, now I’m hallucinating…

But to her surprise, the others in the shed reacted to the light. She heard the stallion stand, and the other mare shuffled backwards until she had pressed her filly against the wall, her breathing loud and ragged. The mare turned her eyes from the wall to the stallion, who was standing, his brown coat stained with mud, his eyes determined and solemn. Suddenly, a voice filled the shack; no doubt the speaker thought he was whispering, but to the mare’s silence-heightened ears he may as well have been shouting.

“Well, at least I wasn’t wrong.”

It wasn’t the voice of the stallion in the shed, and it certainly wasn’t the mare to her other side. This voice was deep and commanding, a voice filled with self-confidence and power that seemed to slide beneath the mare’s chin and pull her towards it, slowly prying her eyes from the other stallion to the new pony and the source of the light as she sat up onto her rump.

The new stallion was tall, very tall even compared to the brown stallion who had been captured with them. He wore a black cloak that matched his coat and covered him from head to tail, showing only his face and hooves. The blue light was coming from his horn, which held a gentle steady glow- a light spell that was focused by his hood into a wide beam, illuminating the interior of the shed and the ponies inside. The mare looked up at him, her violet eyes squinting in the light; soft as it might be, it was more than her dark-attuned eyes could handle.

“You… you’re not one who usually brings us food,” the brown stallion said, his hooves set apart slightly as if he were expecting trouble, and the mare had to admit that trouble was the first thing she expected, as well. But to her surprise, the stallion in the black cloak merely shook his head.

“No, I suppose I’m not. I’m not one of these… villagers.” He fairly spat the word, as if calling them that was a disgrace to villagers everywhere. “I’m not here to hurt you, either- I’m here to help you, to rescue you.”

Silence greeted his words for a long moment, their full impact taking several seconds to sink in; when they did, the other mare let out a loud sob from her corner.

“You… y-you came to rescue us..?” she said shakily, her mane trembling along with her body. “But… but how… w-we don’t even know you…” She shook her head erratically. “You’re n-not from Clyde’s Dale… why are you-,”

The stallion threw back his hood, allowing the light spell on his horn to fill the room with its blue radiance. He shook his pitch-black mane out once before turning his striking green eyes to the cream-colored mare and smiling ever so slightly.

“I came to help, ma’am,” he said, his voice rich and soothing. “I came because nopony in Clyde’s Dale seemed willing to try to stop me from doing so.” His eyes dropped to the filly, who had mustered up the courage to peek out from behind her mother’s legs. “I’m here to rescue you all from this place and take you home.”

That seemed to mollify the cream-colored mare, who slipped down the wall to sit next to her filly as he turned his attention to the other stallion in the room.

“You must be Mr. Turnover,” he said with a nod. “A pleasure to meet you, finally.”

The brown stallion, Mr. Turnover, blinked and lifted a hoof out of his aggressive stance. “You… you know my name? B-but how..?”

The black stallion’s smile twitched slightly. “Your wife is very worried about you, and your son specifically asked me to find you.” He shrugged. “It wasn’t the kind of request I could ignore.” Turnover stared at him blankly for a moment, as if he couldn’t quite comprehend what had just been said. Finally he broke into a wide smile and actually laughed lightly.

“Leave it to my son to find help in strange places,” he said. “But how did you get here? They told us that the forest-,”

“Was filled with booby traps,” the stallion finished with a snort. “Oh yes, it most certainly was, let me tell you.”

“And yet you came anyway? It must have been very dangerous…”

“I don’t break my promises, Mr. Turnover, no matter how dangerous keeping them may be.”

The mare stared at him, her eyes slowly adjusting to the light. There wasn’t much of him to be seen outside the voluminous cloak that he wore, but what she could see impressed her; his horn was straight and tall, his neck well muscled and toned. It was clear that even though he was a unicorn he boasted considerable physical strength. His eyes went from Turnover to her own, and as their eyes met the mare felt a jolt flash through her whole body- as if her entire life had suddenly aligned and deposited her here, at this very moment in time. She felt her mouth open slightly as she stared at him unabashedly, holding his gaze for several long moments until he finally turned away from her.

“All right, we don’t have much time to talk.” He lifted the edge of his cloak with a hoof and gazed beneath it; the mare could briefly see something glow faintly beneath his cloak before he dropped it back into place. “I’m going to get you out of here, but to do that, I’m going to need to know your names; that way, if I have to tell you to do something, I can call you by name instead of hey you.” He looked at Turnover. “I know your name, sir.” His eyes went to the far side, to the mare and her filly, who took an unsteady breath before speaking.

“M-my name is Moonflower… a-and this is Melody,” she said with a nod to the small filly. “We’ll… we’ll do as you say, sir.”

“Excellent.” The dark stallion turned his luminous green eyes back to the mare, and again she felt that sizzle of electricity slice down her back as their eyes met. “And you?”

The mare held his gaze as she rose to her hooves, running one hoof through her messy, muddy powder blue mane as she did so. Of all the days… she thought wryly.

“My name… my name is Trixie,” she said.

“Nice to meet you, Trixie, Moonflower, Melody,” the stallion said with a nod. “All right, now that introductions are done- it’s time to form a plan.”

Chapter 7

As far as odds went, Dark Star thought he had gotten quite lucky. If nothing else, he had done much more with much less; in fact, he had once defended a village along Equestria’s northern border from a griffon attack with six earth ponies, ten burlap sacks and a spool of baling twine. It had been a near thing, but he’d managed it- and that was very much his mindset as he gazed at the small group of ponies he had set out to rescue. In all of his calculations, in all of his equations as to the dynamic of the group he would have to lead when he finally found the kidnapped ponies, he had always factored in extreme age. It had seemed completely implausible that he would not get at least one elderly mare or stallion that he would have to assist through the trap-laden forest late at night, but as he gazed at the small group that gathered around the light of his horn, he couldn’t help but thank Luna for her silent support. Because there’s no way that I could get this lucky.

Behind the door he’d found a strong earth pony stallion and two young unicorn mares, all still physically fit and ready to move, as far as his eye could see. Turnover wasn’t limping or moving as if he was hurt, and neither were the two mares, Trixie and Moonflower. Dark’s eyes flickered to the filly, who was cowering behind her mother’s legs even as the unicorn mare shuffled forward to stand near Dark. The worst that I’ve been given to deal with is a filly, and she’s small enough that I could carry her on my back with little trouble. The stallion felt his lip curve slightly in a smile. Not too bad at all.

But there was something that didn’t quite seem right. As much as he believed that he’d taken all the proper precautions, as much as he was certain that he had gotten very lucky… something nagged at the back of his mind. It was the same kind of feeling he got when he looked at Hay Bale; that strange feeling like he was ignoring something that should have been completely obvious to him. Like I’m missing something, he thought. But if he was missing something, it was hard to say it was important. After all, he’d made it to the kidnapped ponies, which had been the hardest part of his plan in the first place… but so often, small things overlooked came back to bite one in the rump.

“I still can’t believe it,” Turnover said as he approached, squinting even in the low light of Dark’s horn. “I mean, I’m sure glad to see you, sir, but you came all the way here to rescue us… and now it’s actually happening… it’s kind of hard to take in, if you’ll pardon the phrase.”

“Not at all; I can imagine that it’s a bit hard to believe.” He turned his eyes to Moonflower, who still looked absolutely thunderstruck, and gave her a small smile. “Everypony wants to believe that they’ll be rescued, but it’s quite another thing when it actually happens.” He shook his head slightly. “Although I would discourage you from counting your chickens before they hatch, Mr. Turnover- we’re not free yet. In fact,” he said as he turned his eyes to the powder blue mare named Trixie, who had as yet not made a single move past standing when he’d entered the shack, “I’m admittedly surprised to see you all still in here at all. With two unicorns locked in a structure this simple, I would have thought that at least one of you would have escaped.”

Moonflower sighed shakily, her pure white mane falling over one shocking blue eye. “We would have tried,” she said, her voice trembling. “But we couldn’t… because of these.” She lifted a hoof from the floor and pointed to the base of her horn. Dark leaned forward, and in the light from his horn he could see a wide silver ring nestled deep in her snow-white tresses.

“Oooh…” said Dark, his brow furrowing. “Interesting…” He leaned forward further, squinting in at the ring. “I take it this is keeping you from using your magic?” That would certainly explain why they hadn’t taken off yet. A minor problem…

“It’s blocking it, somehow,” Moonflower confirmed, distress seeping into her every word. “A-and no matter how hard I try, I can’t press past it… can’t force my magic to work… I-I’ve tried so hard…” She sniffed, and tears ran down her cream-colored cheeks.

Dark winced slightly in the face of the mare’s tears, but he managed to give her a smile he hoped looked more encouraging than it felt. “You make it sound like it’s easy to force your way past a sealing ring,” he said, lowering his head until his horn touched the mare’s own. His magic pulsed softly and a gentle click reached his ear as the ring snapped open. Moonflower gasped and jerked away from him, causing the ring to dislodge from her horn and fall through her mane to land on the floor.

“How… how did you do that?!” she whispered, her eyes wide in disbelief. Dark’s horn pulsed again, and the strange ring lifted from the dirt to hover before his eyes in a subtle haze of blue magic.

“A ring like this is made to come off with the slightest magical manipulation, but is otherwise impossible to remove,” he said simply, twisting the ring in the air as his eyes followed its smooth edges and almost invisible clasp. “Not to mention that they’re strong enough to keep even the most powerful unicorn in Equestria from breaking through the seal, so you’ll pardon me for saying that it’s most certainly not your fault that you couldn’t remove it.” This ring is quite the work of art, he thought as he scrutinized the object closely. In my day, sealing rings were clunky and huge, woven with more dampening magic and sealing spells than most unicorns could ever learn on their own, but this…

He shifted to the side, and his sword bumped his leg; the very sword which held his timer in its hilt. The stallion sighed, and without a second thought he clasped the ring shut so it appeared to be one solid band of unbroken metal and slipped it into his cloak to the small concealed pouch that lay there. A further examination is in order, he thought, but perhaps at a more appropriate place and time. He lifted the hem of his cloak once more, and the small amount of glow left on his sword hilt made him swear lightly under his breath. Time to get going, Dark.

“All right, ponies,” he said as he stepped forward to Trixie. She stared at him, and as Dark met her eyes he saw a strange mixture of awe and suspicion. He offered her what he hoped was an encouraging smile before lowering his horn to her in the same kind of motion he’d used with Moonflower. The blue mare squinted at him with her left eye, but after a moment she stepped forward and held her horn close to his. Dark’s magic pulsed once more, and the ring popped free of Trixie’s horn.

As the ring fell away and Dark Star moved to step back, his horn brushed Trixie’s; a bare touch, to be certain, and not one that should have sparked any kind of reaction between two ponies who had never met before. But as his horn touched Trixie’s, there was a reaction- her magic seemed to flare to life inside him, creating a burning thread from his horn to hers. His eyes widened, and before he could stop himself he jerked away from her, his hooves tripping over each other for the briefest of moments before he regained his footing. The dark stallion stared at the blue mare, his green eyes wide in disbelief and shock as his heart pounded in his ears. What… what in the name of the moon was THAT? Trixie was giving him a look that mirrored his in shock, her ears pressed flat against her head as she backed up a step to press her rump against the back wall of the shack.

“Wh…what happened?” asked Moonflower, her voice tight with worry as her eyes darted between Dark and Trixie. The black unicorn blinked hard for a few moments, trying to get the sudden aching sensation behind his eyes to go away before he spoke; it faded only slightly, and try as he might he could not get it to disappear completely.

“It was nothing,” Dark Star answered finally, though he knew as soon as he said it that it sounded like the lie it was. He tried to continue, to forestall any further questions on the matter, but instead he found himself grinding his teeth to keep from raising a hoof to his horn and rubbing it; he could still feel that peculiar burning, like some pony had wrapped hot piece of wire midway up it…

Come on, Dark, get it together! You only have so much time! With a vexed sigh, Dark swiveled his head back to face Turnover, who was looking at him as if he might grow a second head.

“Mr. Turnover, I’m afraid that I must ask you to wait here for a while,” he said as he moved towards the door. “I’ve been invited to some kind of a feast here in town tonight, at which I’ll be trying to find out as much as I can about why you were brought here as well as scouting the town’s defensive means. From what I’ve seen, the town doesn’t have any unicorns, so escaping shouldn’t be a problem.”

“I’ll agree to that, though I haven’t seen much of the town since we were brought here,” Turnover said. “Every pony I’ve seen so far has been an earth pony.”

“Indeed. At any rate, once the feast is over, I’ll move back under cover of darkness to-,”

“Don’t forget the Pegasi.”

Dark Star halted mid-word, and slowly turned his eyes to Moonflower, who looked like he might yell at her for interrupting him.

“…excuse me,” Dark said as the uncomfortable feeling that he missed something suddenly started growing in his chest- as if he had just taken a breath of dry, dusty air from a long-sealed room. “Did you say Pegasi, miss?”

Moonflower glanced at Turnover before turning her eyes back to Dark, and she physically winced and swallowed audibly before answering.

“Y-yes… I did.”

“Pegasi here in this town?” Dark persisted.

“Yes, sir… Th-they were the ones who kidnapped us from our homes…”

“-and the ones who carried you here through the forest,” Dark finished for her, his hoof rising to his forehead. The musty feeling in his chest suddenly dove into his stomach, raising prickles of bile at the base of his throat as the missing pieces of the puzzle that he’d noticed weren’t there suddenly appeared out of thin air to slap him in the face. “I missed it,” he said softly. “I can’t believe I missed it…”

“Missed it?” said Moonflower, her eyes widening as panic rose in her voice. “Missed what?”

The unicorn stallion merely shook his head and smiled sadly. With a sigh he raised his hoof again, lifting the hem of his cloak once more so he could see the glowing hilt of his sword; a subtle twitch of his still-glowing horn, and the light emanating from the weapon faded before winking out entirely. I won’t need that anymore, he thought wryly. A shame, really- I was so careful, otherwise… He let his cloak fall back into place before turning once more to Turnover.

“I’m afraid there’s been a change of plan,” he said, his voice calm and confident.

“A change of plan?” Turnover asked. “But you never finished the first plan…”

“Then I’m certain you won’t mind me revising it,” Dark said, arching an eyebrow. “Or would you rather stay here in this hut?” The brown stallion blinked at him a moment before shaking his head slowly. “Good.” Dark turned back towards the door, his cloak swirling about him as he did. “I have to leave you all here for now- my plans have been… accelerated a bit.”

“Leave us?” asked Moonflower, her voice tight with anxiety. “B-but I thought you were going to get us out of here!”

“I am, Miss,” Dark said as his magic raised the hood of his cloak back over his head, once again funneling the light spell into a single beam. “But I’m afraid that to take you all out of here right now would be a mistake.” He let the light spell extinguish, plunging the room into darkness.

As soon as the light went out, however, a plaintive shriek rose from Moonflower’s corner, so sharp and full of absolute misery that Dark re-cast the light spell and spun to that side of the room. The filly, who had until this point simply hidden behind her mother’s legs, had curled up on the floor in a shaking ball, her rose-red mane bouncing in time to her frenetic shivers.

“No…no… please… not the dark again…” she whimpered, her voice little more than a weak sob. “P-please, sir… d-don’t leave us in the dark…” Moonflower dropped to her knees, her white mane falling over her eyes as she huddled low over her filly.

“Hush, Melody,” she said, her voice suddenly soothing and strong, without a trace of the fear and doubt Dark Star had heard in it moments before. “It’s going to be all right- this stallion is going to help us get out of here.”

“B-but h-h-he’s gonna leave us,” she sobbed, burying her face between her hooves as her shaking intensified. “A-and then he’ll forget us… a-and-aand then, then we’ll be stuck h-here in this darkness f-f-f-forEVER!”

“No, we won’t,” Moonflower said, and her voice was so fiercely confident that the tiny filly looked up in surprise. The mare’s bright blue eyes burned as she gave her filly a smile. “He’s going to get us out of here, Melody,” she said. “I know he will.” She closed her eyes, and after a moment her horn ignited with a gentle, pale blue light, casting a chill glow over the room that played a lighter counterpoint to Dark Star’s own- a light spell.

The black stallion let his own light die, casting his face into darkness once again as Melody looked up at her mother, the tears that stained her dirty white coat glinting in Moonflower’s magical luminance. His heart ached for the poor filly, so scared and uncertain, but who could blame her- she had just been kidnapped and held hostage. But his eyes went to her mother, who looked so calm and confident now…

I guess that’s what you do for your foal, he thought. You’ll do anything to help them hold on to hope, no matter how hopeless the situation seems. He almost wanted to tell the filly that they may not make it out of here, to give her a dose of the harsh reality of the situation… but as he watched her eyes gaze up at her mother’s magic and fill with courage once more, he knew that doing such a thing would destroy him as surely as a sword through the heart.

Suddenly, Melody turned her sapphire-blue eyes towards him, her gaze piercing the darkness of his hood.

“Mister…” she said, her voice still shaking ever so slightly. “You… you’ll come back for us… won’t you?” From within his hood, Dark Star smiled.

“Of course I will,” he answered without hesitation. It’s not the kind of request I can ignore…

“Do you promise?” she asked.

“I promise,” he replied. “And I always keep my promises.”

Suddenly, the one pony in the shack who hadn’t said anything for a very long while spoke from her dark corner.

“Promises are made to be broken,” said Trixie, her voice thick with disgust. “Empty words and hollow sentiment, that’s all promises are.”

The dark stallion turned his eyes to her and found her staring at him, her lavender eyes boring into him. He frowned at the blue mare, and was about to reassure Melody that his promises were never empty when he noticed the look in Trixie’s eyes. It wasn’t anger, it wasn’t disgust… it was desperation, a look of such absolute hunger that he almost took a step back.

“That’s what they are, right?” said Trixie, her voice as sharp as a razor. “Empty lies told to placate a scared filly. We’re all going to stay in here, here in the darkness until we-,”

“No,” Dark Star said, the firmness of his voice cutting through her tirade. “No, you are not going to stay in here any longer.”

“A likely story,” Trixie scoffed. “You’re an awful lot of talk for just one pony.” Dark squinted at her from the shadows of his hood, his anger rising as heated words to his lips… but even as he opened his mouth to give her a few choice pieces of his mind he met her eyes again, and again the look of complete and utter desperation gave him pause.

What does she want? He wondered as he closed his mouth slowly. She’s doing nothing but causing trouble…

“A lot of talk,” the blue mare sneered. “You promise the filly you’ll get her out of here because she’s a gullible foal and will believe your lies so she cooperates, and you promise the stallion you’ll get him out of here so he’ll help you. Trixie bets that you won’t promise her such things!”

Dark stared at her in disbelief for a long moment. This mare has absolutely lost her mind, he thought, and given the current state of events he couldn’t exactly blame her. Being in a tense, hostile situation like this could and did have adverse effects on ponies- no doubt including pushing them to speak in the third person. I’ve seen weirder things happen on the battlefield, Dark thought. However, I don’t have the time to play psychologist at the moment. With a slight shake of his head he started to turn away, but then Trixie’s eyes became hungry again and she lunged towards him a step, causing his muscles to tense warily beneath his cloak.

“T-Trixie bets you won’t!” she said loudly, her mane falling over one hysterical eye. “Trixie bets you would never make a promise like that to Trixie because you could never keep it!!”

The dark stallion’s teeth ground together, and with as much composure as he could muster he turned back to face her squarely, his hood still holding his face in a realm of shadow.

“And what makes you say that?” he asked, his voice as cold as ice. This mare is starting to get on my nerves… “How can you stand there and call me a liar, when I’m your only way out of this mess?”

“Because…” The mare’s mane quivered, and Dark was surprised to note that it was because she was shaking. “Because… because you can’t keep it… because this is where Trixie is meant to be… where Trixie is meant to stay…” Her whole body shuddered, and she dropped her eyes to the floor as she whispered something that Dark Star almost didn’t catch:

“…because Trixie doesn’t deserve to leave.”

Dark watched her closely as she shook from nose to tail, her entire body vibrating with her sorrow and misery; and even as Trixie’s tears began to make spots on the floor below her, he couldn’t help but smile just slightly.

“You don’t deserve to leave, Trixie?” he said quietly. “That’s a bold statement; you make it sound as if you know your destiny.” Trixie’s head shot up at the word destiny, and her tear-filled eyes stared at him as emotions flickered through their depths.

“Trixie knows her destiny,” she whispered hoarsely. “Trixie knows her fate… what she deserves.” Dark Star chuckled under his breath and shook his head minutely.

“Well, I’m sorry to tell you that if your destiny is to die in a dark, awful shack like this one,” Dark said, turning back to the door, “then you’re going to have to do it on your own time, Trixie- because I’m going to get you and everypony else out of here.” Without waiting for her to reply he stepped up to the door and put his hoof to it. “Stay in here, everypony,” he said over his shoulder. “Things out here aren’t going to be very pleasant.”

“Wh-what do you mean by that?” Turnover said from off to his right.

In answer, Dark Star pushed the door of the shack open… and instead of the dark of night to greet him the flickering light of many torches illuminated the interior of the small shed, torches that were held by a large semi-circle of earth ponies that cut off all escape routes away from the small building. Dark glanced back into the shed, to the ponies he had come so far to rescue, and gave them a smile that they could not see.

“That’s what I mean. If you’ll excuse me,” he said before stepping out and closing the door behind him.

~*~*~*~

Walking into a trap was a very ticklish business, especially if one knew the trap was there. On the one hoof, simply knowing that it is, indeed, a trap changes the very dynamic of the situation, removing all element of surprise and allowing one to face the situation with no preconceived notions of victory or defeat. On the other hoof, it is common knowledge that identifying a trap would allow one to avoid it completely. For Dark Star, however, things were not quite so straight-forward as “avoiding” the trap.

As soon as Moonflower had mentioned the Pegasi she had seen while being captured, all the little pieces of uncertainty that had been flitting around Dark’s mind congealed into a single irrefutable fact: that he had been watched and followed. The feeling of eyes on him through the forest had been undeniable, and the fact that the watchers had kept their identity secret from Dark had said a great deal about their stealth abilities. That fact, of course, made it easier for the stallion to believe that he had been watched silently through the town, as well; after all, he’d had a great deal more to think about while sneaking through an occupied town versus creeping through an empty forest. Once he had realized that, it was a short jump to foreseeing a trap. After all, they can’t simply have a stallion wandering about their town free, now can they?

Admittedly, getting caught in an ambush was never a very good way to go about completing a mission, but it certainly appealed to Dark Star’s inner warrior. He had never enjoyed subterfuge, and would certainly prefer a straight fight to all this sneaking around even if doing so would make it a little more difficult to escape with the prisoners. His eyes swept the ponies that surrounded him, the firelight dancing across their stoic faces and muscular shoulders as they stared back at him. Finally, his eyes found a pony he recognized, even though the torches painted his merry yellow coat a pale orange in the darkness.

“Hello again, Hay Bale,” said Dark, a smile curving his lips. “I have to say, the torches are a very nice touch. It’s been a long time since I faced down an angry mob.” The earth pony snorted and stepped out from the ranks, his torch held firmly in his right hoof.

“You should have stayed in your room, sir,” Hay Bale said, his voice angry and firm. “If you had just stayed there, all of this unpleasantness could have been avoided!”

The unicorn’s smile became predatory. “Oh I think you’re mistaken. There would have been plenty of unpleasantness to go around- it just would have been a different kind.”

Hay Bale’s gaze never left Dark’s, but he could see Hay’s body moving as he shifted on his hooves ever so slightly beneath Dark’s scrutiny. To his credit, however, the earth pony held his ground; it was clear that he was determined to lead this group, even if by all appearances he did not wish to. The unicorn’s eyes narrowed as he watched Hay Bale. That was a look he had seen a very long time ago on guards sent to bring in one of their own who had been branded a traitor- a mission that nopony wanted, but one that had to be done nevertheless. It would seem that Mr. Bale doesn’t actually want to be facing me down in the street like this, he thought. He’s doing this at somepony else’s behest… which means that he has a specific set of orders he’s supposed to follow.

And while those orders could have consisted of any number of things, Dark Star had a suspicion that they were very simple… and very messy.

His eyes darted again to the other ponies surrounding him, his gaze cool and calculating as he let wisdom learned a thousand years in the past lead his thoughts. I’d estimate… about fifteen big, strong earth ponies. His head turned ever so slightly, allowing him to take in the corners of the formation from beneath his hood. Broad shoulders, sturdy legs- farmers, if I had to guess, meaning that they have a lot of brute strength and good stamina. However, that would indicate a lack of speed, and most likely a lack of actual training in combat. The corner of his lip quirked slightly. A stray brawl here and there, no doubt, but no real training to speak of. His eyes darted back to the other side of the circle. With the number of ponies they have against me, and their obvious advantage in combined physical strength…

He grinned as his eyes went back to Hay Bale. If this is how it’s going to be, it’ll all be over in a matter of moments. Dark shifted his hooves ever so slightly beneath his cloak, settling into a combat stance. The entire circle of ponies tensed as he moved, their eyes narrowing and muscles bulging; but before anypony could attack Hay Bale waved his torch frantically, putting himself between Dark and the largest part of the group.

“NO!” he shouted, his voice tinged with anxiety as he waved hoof and torch about. “Leave him be!” But the group of stallions didn’t relax; their muscles were tense and their eyes were narrow, watching Dark for any sign of movement that may indicate an attack. The black stallion smirked as he shifted his left front hoof back slightly to make drawing his blade easier. Obviously they’re not as stupid as they look.

“Stand down!” Hay Bale shouted at the group around him, his voice rising to almost a shriek. “I order you to stand down!”

“What’s the matter, Hay Bale?” Dark taunted softly, just loud enough for the words to reach the other stallion’s ears. “Lost control of your little unit, have you?” The earth pony whirled on him, his eyes flashing with anger; but it faded immediately to fear and uncertainty as he turned back to the rest of the group, who were regarding Dark Star like a group of mountain lions who had cornered a lone deer.

A bit reversed, if you asked me.

“Stop! Stand down! I…” Hay stopped mid-sentence, falling silent for a moment before he stood up straight and tall. “Need I remind you what our orders are?” he said finally, his voice loud and desperate. “We are to bring this stallion to him, remember?” Hay turned slowly, taking in the whole semi-circle of stallions before he spoke again. “And if anything were to happen to this pony, my head will not be the only one that rolls!”

Despite the less than confident delivery, Hay Bale’s words seemed to have the effect he desired on the surrounding stallions; there was a general grumbling of displeasure from them, but as one they all relaxed and took a step back, giving Dark Star a bit more space. Hay Bale nodded firmly.

“Good- I’m glad we understand one another,” he said, his voice shaking despite his strong words. “Now, on to what we came here for.” The stallion turned to face Dark, his jaw clenched so tightly Dark could see the muscles bunching along the side of Hay Bale’s face. “You,” Hay said, pointing with a hoof at Dark. “You are to come with us, sir.”

Dark did not relax, no matter that the situation seemed to be under control once more. After all, it’s not the opponents I can see that concern me. His eyes swept the group of ponies around him once more before darting up into the darkness above them. In this torchlight, they could be hovering right above me and I’d never know it until it was too late. The unicorn turned his eyes back to Hay Bale, who stood patiently waiting for his compliance. It would be easy enough to dispatch this group, Dark thought. Easy as thinking. He was a war-trained unicorn with ample magic at his command; even with odds this stacked against him, his victory was all but assured…

But it was completely obvious to him that Hay Bale was not the pony in charge here- and Hay’s own admission had confirmed that for him. A mysterious party was leading these ponies, giving the orders to subdue visitors to their town and to do Celestia knew what else. Dark relaxed his stance, standing up straight once more as a smile quirked the corner of his mouth. Give me a little more, Hay Bale. Just a little more.

“And what does your village elder want with me?” asked Dark, casting his line for clues.

“What he wants is his own business, unicorn,” Hay spat as he lowered his head angrily. “We follow his orders to the letter and do not ask questions.” Dark smirked ever so slightly. That’s good enough for me.

“All right, Hay Bale. I’ll come with you.” He stepped forward, away from the shed; as soon as he was a few more pony lengths away from it, two of the stallions closest to the small building rushed to it and yanked the door open before darting inside. Dark whirled, his teeth bared, just in time to see the tail of the last stallion disappear inside. He spun back to Hay Bale, his eyes full of fire. “What are you doing?!” he barked. “I told you I’d come with you- there’s no need to involve these other ponies!”

Hay Bale gave him a smile so smug it took all of Dark’s self-control not to conjure up a fireball to wipe it from the earth pony’s face.

“All part of my orders, sir,” Hay said simply. “We are to bring you and our other… guests… to the elder. He claims that you will understand in due course, sir.”

There was a general clamor as the door of the shed swung open and the four ponies inside were thrust out into the night by the two guards; Turnover looked angry, but he wisely kept his hooves in check. Moonflower was hovering over Melody as protectively as she could, with the little filly appearing close to tears, and Trixie was simply allowing herself to be pushed along with the group, her eyes uncaring. The two stallions behind them closed the door to the shack and pushed the group to Dark Star, who turned back to give Hay Bale a hateful glare.

“…I’m sure that I will,” said Dark simply, his voice as cold as ice. The earth pony just smirked and turned to the group.

“All right, let’s move.” He started off towards the town square, his torch held high; as Dark and the other prisoners followed him, the semi-circle of ponies closed behind them, forming a solid wall of earth pony muscle between them and freedom. Next to Dark, Melody sniffled loudly; the black stallion looked down at her and found her staring up at him, her eyes full of fear.

“W-what’s going to happen to us, mister?” she asked, her voice filled with terror.

“Nothing,” Dark replied, giving her the most confident smile he could muster. “You’re going to be just fine, Melody.” He nodded before turning his eyes to Hay Bale once more, his mouth tight as he frowned angrily. And everypony involved in this is going to wish they had never been born.

In mere moments they reached the town square, which was barely two streets away from where the captives had been held, and as Dark cast his gaze about the area he had to admit that it seemed to be just a normal festival. There were long tables set up, with ample plates lined along the sides for the plethora of ponies that stood waiting in the square; and a plethora there were, many more than Dark Star had seen when he’d first entered town. There were mares and stallions of every shape and size lining the edges of the square several rows deep- so many that as they were escorted from the outlying buildings into the square proper, Dark Star couldn’t believe how many there were. There have got to be almost three hundred ponies here, he thought in disbelief as his eyes danced across the gathered crowd. The villagers watched the group carefully, speaking in low tones to one another so that the entire area was filled with subtle murmuring… but no matter where Dark looked, he could find only earth ponies. There were no Pegasi that he could see, nor were there unicorns. Only earth ponies as far as the eye could see.

Hay Bale led the group towards the manor house at the edge of the square, past the tables of plates to the tables full of vegetables. Dark felt his eyebrows rise at the sheer amount of them they had; huge mounds of carrots and cabbages, lettuce and corn, vegetables of every shape and size by the dozens covered the wide tables. This must be almost all of their winter stores, Dark thought in surprise. I hope whatever they’re celebrating is worth it.

The tables full of vegetables fell behind them, and only a wide swath of open ground stood between them and the manor house. Hay led them forward for several more moments before halting in his tracks at the start of the walkway that led to the house, causing the guards surrounding them to slow and stop, as well. Melody whimpered as Hay spun about, his torch held high.

“And now, prisoners,” he said, his voice heavy with eagerness, “You are brought before our leader. Behold him and tremble!” He raised the torch high into the air and threw it away to Dark’s left; it whirled through the air, almost going out as it arched up into the night, then fell to earth into a pit of stones where they ignited a large pile of wood that had been set in it. Dark blinked and squinted at the fire as it flared to life. It was a simple setup, and one that he personally had used on innumerable occasions: a large circle made of stones inside a larger circle of exposed earth, to keep the fire from getting out of control. But something stuck out to him as strange; on either side of the fire, there was a large metal pole standing up out of the ground, and extending between the two poles extended a third pole that ended in a large crank.

The stallion frowned heavily. That isn’t something ponies normally use, he thought, but… but I know I’ve seen that somewhere… Think, Dark, think! He turned his eyes to the ground, trying his level best to remember where he had seen such a contraption before. It hasn’t been anytime recently… no, it was way, way back… back before I’d met Luna… before I was a Captain of the Guard… back when I was on the frontier, fighting-

His eyes widened, and unbidden a snarl leaped to his lips that caused Moonflower and Melody both to jump slightly.

“It can’t be…” he breathed.

Suddenly, the double doors of the manor house burst open, slamming wide against the sides of the house as if they had been propelled from the inside by a tornado. Hay Bale laughed loudly, and as one the ponies surrounding their little group split, falling back behind them so that nothing stood between the group and the manor. Dark Star’s teeth ground together as sounds began to echo out from inside the house; footsteps that approached slowly, confidently… footsteps that scratched and padded alternately.

“W-what is going on?” Moonflower whispered, her voice shaking once more. “W-wh-what is happening?!” But even as Dark opened his mouth to answer, a screech rent the air- a sound like a bird of prey swooping in to snatch its prey.

Out of the gaping door of the manor came a beast that everypony knew on sight; a beast whose long, silver and black feathers slowly faded into soft black fur along its hindquarters, a beast with long black talons for front legs and keen, prideful yellow eyes above a wickedly hooked silver beak.

The beast strutted forward to the edge of the manor’s large porch and spread his impressive wings wide, the firelight glinting off the chainmail vest he wore across his broad chest as he lifted his head to the sky once more and let out a long, loud screech that caused many ponies to cover their ears in surprise. As the echo of the noise rebounded across the square he folded his wings again and turned his eyes to the group, the corner of his mouth quirking into a smile.

“Welcome, ponies,” he said, his voice a rough, harsh tenor. “I do hope you have found our village… accommodating?” He snickered at his own joke. “Ah, me…”

Dark Star glared up at him, and without removing his eyes from the beast he answered Moonflower:

“We’ve just been invited to a griffon’s dinner party.”

The griffon on the porch grinned broadly down at him and took a mock bow, holding one talon across the chainmail vest.

“Indeed you have, ponies,” the griffon said. “You have been given the honor to be in the presence of Razorbeak the griffon.” Razorbeak raised his head once more, and his eyes gleamed gold in the firelight. “And I daresay that we couldn’t have dinner without you.”

Chapter 8

Dark Star’s teeth ground together in a silent snarl as the griffon stepped forward on the large porch of the manor house, his golden eyes sweeping the gathered crowd above the prisoner’s heads. In my experience, having a griffon invite you to dinner is like asking Discord for a favor- neither is a good idea, and in both you usually ended up as a piece of food in one form or another.

“My fair villagers!” said Razorbeak, settling his front talons on the railing around the edge of the porch so his wings could flare wide about him, the chainmail slung about his chest shimmering with the dancing orange flames of the torches that surrounded them. “You have once again done well in bringing me ponies, my friends- and this time you have even done more than I had asked!” He gestured with one claw down at Dark Star, his grin smug and pleased. “Instead of bringing me the two unicorns I asked for, you have brought me three!” The crowd stamped their hooves loudly, the thundering sound echoing through the square for a long moment before Razorbeak raised his talon again to call for silence as Dark gazed up at him, his eyes narrow. He was specifically searching for unicorns..?

“Please, my friends,” the griffon said, his voice as warm and friendly as a campfire on a winter’s night. “The applause should be for you, my villagers! You have proven yourselves yet again to me, and in reward for your hard work, you shall once again share in a bounteous feast!” He raised his talons above his head, his wings flared wide as he threw his head to the sky. “A GLORIOUS FEAST!” he crowed to the stars… and as Dark Star watched, there was the barest flash of light from beneath the chainmail Razorbeak wore. It was soft and subtle, so much so that if Dark hadn’t been watching the griffon closely he would have missed it; a quick flare of deep, ruby-red light had colored the armor at the center of Razorbeak’s chest for the barest of heartbeats before vanishing without a trace.

Dark frowned, but his attention was drawn by the gathered ponies as they again stamped their hooves more fervently than before, this time adding a chorus of voices to the din that cried out in zealous thanks to Razorbeak.

“Wh-what does he mean, feast?” Turnover said at Dark Star’s shoulder, his voice tight despite the volume he had to use to be heard over the cheering crowd. “And why is he talking about unicorns like that?”

“Not for any reason that’s good for us,” Dark muttered, his eyes sweeping the nearby crowd. He could feel his muscles bunching across his shoulders, tense and ready for use however he needed them, but to his surprise the crowd didn’t seem to be watching him or any of their group at all. Their eyes were riveted to the griffon as he spoke, a fanatical blaze glowing throughout the multitude as they cheered and stomped for their apparent leader.

Moonflower pressed close to Dark Star, Melody cowering between her legs as the crowd chanted praise to the griffon as he held his talons out for silence.

“Please, good ponies, please!” he called above the din. “I thank you for your praise, but I fear that there is some business to take care of before our feast can begin.” His golden eyes once more dropped to Dark and the group, and the stallion felt his hackles raise at the look of superiority and victory the griffon’s eyes held. The feather-brained son of a mule- he really has no doubt that he’s won, has he? Slowly the crowd around him fell silent, and as soon as he was certain he could be heard Dark stepped forward, distancing himself from the other ponies.

“And what business is that, griffon?” the black stallion asked, his tone sharp and cold.

“As a matter of fact,” Razorbeak said, settling his front feet back to the porch and smirking down at Dark. “You are the business, good stallion. You have presented a bit of a problem for this village and, through it, me as well.”

Dark smirked back at him. “You’ll have to pardon me if I’m not heartbroken by your troubles.”

Razorbeak’s golden eyes blazed for a moment, the anger in them rising blatantly to the surface until it almost filled his gaze; but after several long seconds the anger receded, leaving them once again calm and calculating as he turned and began pacing the porch, his wings rustling restlessly as he spoke.

“You present a problem, stallion, because usually when a unicorn is brought before me they are wearing one of those lovely little rings that the two mares were wearing when you found them.” Razorbeak arched an eyebrow at Dark. “I assume you saw them, yes?”

“I saw them,” growled Dark Star, “Then I promptly removed them.”

“Aah, such a pity,” said Razorbeak with a sigh. “They truly are such useful things. Made of mythril, you know- very hard to get my talons on. However, the fact that you lack such a ring is going to make what happens next a bit more… complicated than it usually is.”

The unicorn’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, his stomach suddenly churning as the suspicion that had taken root there suddenly began to sprout and branch upwards into his throat.

“And what is it that usually happens next?” he asked, his voice calm. Oh dear Luna please don’t be what I think it is…

To his horror, however, Razorbeak’s smile became sharp and predatory, his eyes flashing in the firelight.

“What happens next? Why, we kill you, of course.”

The black stallion felt his shoulders slump as the suspicion in his stomach bloomed into an acidic taste at the back of his throat, and he sighed softly. …damn.

The words floated across the quiet square and settled among the ponies, taking a moment to sink in for the group of prisoners. From his left side, Dark heard Turnover swear under his breath, and from his right he heard Moonflower gasp and whimper as she shuffled even closer to him. He felt his heart twinge regretfully as he heard Melody echo her mother’s plaintive whimper, but as much as he wanted to comfort her, there was just no way that he could pause in his conflict with Razorbeak to do so; because it was most certainly a conflict, despite it being only words- and that made it all the more important, too important to drop even for a moment. The best thing I can do for Melody, for ANY of them, is to keep this sun-cursed griffon distracted… until he makes a mistake. Dark snorted and stepped away from the small group again, putting perhaps a pony-length between Moonflower and himself before he spoke once more.

“So you’re going to try and kill us,” Dark said nonchalantly as he toyed with the edge of his cloak. “That’s unfortunate.”

“Oh, not try. I most certainly am going to succeed in killing you, unicorn- and the others with you, as well.” Razorbeak’s voice was tight and controlled, but there was an edge to it that made Dark’s ears twitch; an edge that spoke of barely contained anger and fury hiding just below the griffon’s smooth façade. The stallion smirked ever so slightly. It’s not exactly a mistake, but I think I can work with it.

“And how do you plan to do that?” Dark asked, his eyes meeting the griffon’s intense gaze evenly. “As you said before, I am not wearing one of those rings that you used on the mares.” He embraced his magic, and in the space of a heartbeat his horn glowed deep blue; with a hiss and a snap, electricity sparked to life around his horn for a moment, sending the closest villagers scurrying backwards into one another. His eyes never faltered from the griffon as he allowed his horn to fall dark and silent once again. “And I assure you,” he continued, “that I am more than willing to use every ounce of magic at my disposal to free these ponies from you.”

Razorbeak’s eyes narrowed, but he simply shrugged carelessly.

“Strong words are of little use to you, unicorn. Soon you’ll be dead, along with those pretty mares and the earth pony.”

Dark shook his head and opened his mouth to respond, but before he could do so Moonflower took a deep, shaking breath and spoke first.

“W-why do you want us?!” she cried, the tears in her eyes flowing into her voice. “What purpose could killing us possibly serve?! I-I’m nopony special- I’m just a seamstress! I’m just a mother trying to raise a filly! Why us?!” Razorbeak turned his golden eyes to her, and the corners of his mouth quirked up into a belittling smile.

“Oh my dear sweet mare, you are special,” he cooed. He extended his claw, his long black talons shining in the firelight as he crooked one of his digits at the horn atop Moonflower’s head. “Your magic makes you special, my dear; special to me, at any rate.”

“My… my magic?” Moonflower said, her voice quavering. “W-what does my magic have to do with anything? I’m not powerful… M-m-my special talent is making things beautiful…”

“I couldn’t care less what your special talent is,” Razorbeak snapped, his eyes flaring with anger. “It’s not your TALENT I’m interested in, unicorn- I said your magic.”

Her magic..? The suspicion in Dark’s throat was slowly working its way through his body, filling him with a creeping sense of dread that he had to admit wasn’t much to his liking. His teeth ground together tightly as his mind worked furiously.

Earlier, he thanked the village for bringing us to him, but he thanked them specifically for bringing him the unicorns… and now he’s talking about being interested in our magic… What in the name of Equestria are you up to, griffon? Dark opened his mouth to try and add his voice to the discussion, but to his surprise, Moonflower would not be dissuaded.

“I-if you think you can get us to help you after you’ve kidnapped us,” she began, but before she could continue Razorbeak lifted his head to the sky and laughed; he laughed loudly and unabashedly, his voice filled with undisguised amusement… and horribly, there was an edge to his laughter that made Dark’s skin crawl; a blade beneath the burst of merriment that spoke of blood and death.

“Help me?!” Razorbeak crowed, his wings extending away from his body as he cackled, his pinions bouncing with his mirth. “Oh… oh, my poor, simple mare, you truly are an amusing one. That’s the most hilarious thing that I’ve ever heard any of our prisoners say!”

Suddenly, Dark heard Turnover snarl angrily, and the brown stallion surged forward to stand next to Dark, his teeth bared in rage.

“Then what DO you want with us?!” the earth pony shouted into the quiet square. “I’m tired of these games! TELL US WHY YOU KIDNAPPED US, YOU DISGUSTING BIRD!!”

The griffon’s laughter slowed, but only marginally; it seemed that even Turnover’s blatant insult wasn’t enough to kill the amusement that Razorbeak was obviously feeling. Finally after several long moments his humor seemed to taper off, fading from a rolling guffaw to a brazen chuckle, then down to a gentle snicker as he raised a talon to wipe a tear from his eye. Finally he took a deep, contented breath before turning his eyes once more to the group, his smile as sharp as his beak.

“I kidnapped you, earth pony…” He gestured to the two metal poles that held the third rod with the crank at one end. “…because I’m going to kill you…” His smile twisted, and his eyes flashed hungrily.

“…and then we’re going to eat you.”

His beak snapped open and closed loudly, and as the words washed over the multitude the crowd responded with fervor, their silence broken by the admission of their leader. They all stamped and cheered wildly, and Dark felt Moonflower, Melody, Turnover and even Trixie press in against him as the ocean of ponies around them leaped to life, their manes flowing like sea foam on rolling surf. The black stallion’s eyes darted to and fro, his muscles tense as braided steel as he tried to watch every side of himself at once. The crowd is going completely crazy, he thought. But that doesn’t make sense… Suddenly he felt the hair on the back of his mane stand on end as what Razorbeak had said finally hit him: He said “we”. He didn’t say, “And then I’m going to eat you”… he said “And then we’re going to eat you”…

His mind and stomach churning, Dark took a calming breath and forced his vision to steady. He said “we’re”, he thought again. He took another deep breath, closed his eyes for the briefest of moments then reopened them. The unicorn forced his eyes away from the places his warrior training told him to watch- the hooves, the shoulders, the necks of his opponents- and made himself look, really look at the nearest pony to him. She was reared up on her hind hooves, her eyes full of fire as she cheered for the griffon before her; but as Dark forced himself to look at her again he noticed something that he hadn’t before. He felt his stomach clench like a strained knot in a rope that was pulled too tight as he squinted at her face, his breath suddenly short and sharp as a chilling horror settled over him like a blanket.

Oh Luna… please let this be a trick of the light… please let this not be what I think it is… But as he watched the pony in the crowd open her mouth fully to shout her praise to Razorbeak once more, he knew that it was no trick of the light: where her teeth should have been smooth and flat across her mouth, as any pony’s should have been, there were two that were not smooth or flat. Dark’s jaw muscles tensed as he noted that several teeth back from her front incisors were two large, pointed canine teeth, teeth that he had only seen before in wolves and other meat-eating predators, and his entire body shook with anger as the implications of all of this information sank in.

“They’re cannibals,” he said aloud, unable to contain his disbelief. He forced his vision from the pony before him to a stallion off to his right, praying that he was wrong, but as his eyes found the stallion’s mouth he realized that he was not wrong at all; each and every pony here, save the group of prisoners in which Dark found himself, had the telltale sharp, pointed canine tooth that branded a creature as a meat-eater. THAT’s what was wrong with Hay Bale, he realized as he turned his eyes to Razorbeak, who stood before the crowd of ponies, drinking in their adoration. He had the same teeth, and I missed it!

It took all of Dark’s willpower not to simply blast his way out of this village right then; to bring his considerable magical might to bear on this village and leave it a smoking, empty husk of a town as he left with his charges. Nopony would ever tell him that he’d been wrong; the very idea of cannibalistic ponies was the stuff of nightmares, and even Princess Celestia would be hard-pressed to say that wiping them off the face of Equestria would be a bad thing. Yet even as he thought it… he knew that he couldn’t simply destroy these ponies. His eyes narrowed as he stared at the griffon before him, his wings and claws spread wide as he basked in the town’s praises. You’re behind this, he thought, his anger bubbling up beneath the blanket of horror, forcing its cold touch from his coat and replacing it with a seething disgust for the half-raptor, half-cat. It didn’t make much sense; it appeared that these ponies were praising him and following him of their own free will, and that he was simply doing as they wished… but his gut told him differently. It told him that something wasn’t quite as it seemed here, and that no matter what he thought was going on there was yet more to be laid out on the table.

In other words… if I get these ponies out of here now, I may never have the chance to see what’s really going on. He sighed sharply. But if I’m wrong…

Dark Star had played a lot of dangerous games in his life, but he had always relied on his gut to get him through; tonight would be no different. He turned his head sharply and waved his hoof, eventually getting the attention of Turnover, Moonflower and Trixie.

“Everypony stand back and give me some room!” he said loudly, gesturing away from himself. Turnover nodded and immediately backed up a few steps into the void that surrounded them in the crowd; he was followed closely by Trixie, who watched him with blatant curiosity, but Moonflower looked at him in disbelief and shook her head. Dark gestured towards her again, more forcefully, but she shook her head vehemently.

“NO!” she shouted to be heard over the roar of the crowd. “I-I won’t leave your side!” The terror in her voice was absolute, and the pupils of her eyes were huge with panic.

“Back up, Moonflower!” he said, his voice firm and commanding- the same tone of voice he used to order his soldiers around, so very long ago. “Stand back with Turnover, NOW!”

The mare was moving almost before she knew it, sweeping Melody with her back towards the brown stallion. Dark Star took one last glance back at them to be sure they were all together before turning his eyes once more to Razorbeak. His mouth quirked into a smile as he tossed his head, allowing the hood of his cloak to flop backwards and reveal his horn; he took a deep breath and lit his horn up with magic, grasping the flowing ethereal energies swirling through him and focusing them, channeling them through his horn, forcing them to take the shape he wanted.

“You guys may want to close your eyes!” he shouted over his shoulder.

Dark Star knew very well that more complex magic eluded him, it always had and it always would. However, there was one thing that Dark did very, very well: big, showy bursts of magical might.

The royal blue glow around his horn blazed brighter and brighter as tiny electrical discharges flickered off of it, lancing to stray hairs in his mane or simply off into the air, dissipating without a trace. The air around him began to feel thicker, and Dark felt what must have been every hair on his body standing on end as he gathered more and more of his magical power, forcing it to stand just on the precipice of action as the electricity in the air grew more and more violent.

There’s really only one way to break up a crowd…

The unicorn stallion threw his head skyward and from the clear night a bolt of brilliant white lightning lanced down, splitting the darkness like a blazing sword of justice. The bolt blinded many of the nearest villagers as its radiance filled the square for the briefest of moments as it flickered down out of the sky and impacted Dark’s horn, splintering into countless bursts of electricity that sizzled along his legs and hooves before sparking across the ground.

And along with the light came the sound, a burst of thunder so tremendous that it literally blasted the ponies nearest to Dark Star backwards into their companions, widening the circle around himself and the prisoners. The sound wave was so sharp and violent that it actually kicked up a dust cloud around Dark’s hooves as tendrils of electricity danced amidst it, giving the black stallion a flickering, unearthly look for several long heartbeats.

Dark released his magic and glanced back at the other prisoners, a sudden sinking feeling in his stomach. That was a bit more powerful than I had planned… He was sure that he would see them tossed aside like dry leaves in a windstorm, but what he saw, however, made him grin proudly. Moonflower and Trixie stood with their horns pressed together in front of Turnover and Melody, and from their horns glowed a gentle semicircle of light: a protection spell that they had used to divert the electricity and the shock wave of the thunder, allowing the group to weather the blast without being blown backwards. Not bad, you two, he thought. Not bad at all. He shook his head slightly and turned his eyes back to Razorbeak, who was busy picking himself up off the porch. But unfortunately I don’t have the time for proper congratulations right now.

All around him ponies were scurrying to get back, their shouts of praise turned into cries of fear and terror as they tried to put as much distance between this unicorn and themselves as they possibly could; and with a confident smile on his face, Dark Star stepped up towards the manor house, his cloak flowing about him like darkness given tangible form. On the porch Razorbeak heaved himself to his feet, dusting off his chainmail with a claw as he turned his angry golden eyes to Dark Star.

“Ah yes… I suppose I was getting a bit ahead of myself,” he said after a few moments; Dark had no doubt that he was waiting for the ringing in his ears to subside before he spoke too much. “As I said, normally unicorns are brought to me properly contained…”

“So you plan to eat us, then,” said Dark, his voice calm and almost conversational. “That’s a bit of a spin on ancient griffon tradition. From what I recall, it was only enemies beaten in combat that were eaten.”

Razorbeak’s eyes widened slightly, and his brow arched. “…how do you know-?”

“It was to absorb their strength, as I recall,” Dark continued, plowing over the griffon’s response. “A bit barbaric, if you asked me, but griffon culture could often be called that in the pre-expansionist Equestria era.” He turned to the side and paced a few steps, his eyes never leaving the griffon. “But that doesn’t explain why you would come here, a good distance into Equestria- a country that your King has a peace treaty with, might I add- and begin killing ponies randomly; ponies who are not warriors to be fought, but the citizens of a random town that you are slaughtering.” Dark silently thanked Quickfire in Clyde’s Dale for keeping a copy of An Annotated History of the Griffon Kingdoms in the room he’d stayed in for the night. “It makes a pony wonder what your King Windrider would say to that…”

“The King and I stand apart,” Razorbeak snapped, his chest puffing out aggressively. “I am under no orders from the Griffon Kingdom.”

“Then why are you here?” Dark pressed. “Personal gain? What could you possibly have to gain from doing this?” He gestured to the group of prisoners, still huddled together behind him. “And while we’re on the subject, why are you choosing unicorns specifically? Do you have some kind of vendetta against unicorns?”

Slowly, Razorbeak smiled, and with accentuated casualness he ran a claw over the black feathers atop his head.

“So many questions,” he said softly. “Well, I suppose even food should be given last requests.” He sighed and settled his foot back to the porch, flapping his wings once to rid them of any lingering dust before settling them back to his sides. “I have no affiliation with King Windrider,” he repeated, “But that does not mean that I am here purely out of personal gain. I assure you, if it was up to me I would not be here in Equestria at all. I would much rather be flying with my squadron again, patrolling the borders of the Kingdom instead of running this village.”

Dark’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he kept the smile on his face. “Then why are you here at all?”

“Ah, that is the question you keep repeating; and while it is not purely out of personal gain, there is personal gain to be had. And, as luck would have it, the answer to your first question answers the second.” He turned and paced along the railing of the porch, his eyes boring into Dark with such intensity that the stallion could have sworn he could feel Razorbeak’s gaze like a physical force. “My purpose here is to find as many unicorns as I can and absorb their strength; or, more accurately, to absorb their magical power into myself.” The griffon’s wings gave a mighty flap, lifting his front half off the porch slightly before setting him gently back down again. “And my mission has been going very smoothly indeed…”

“To absorb their magic?” asked Dark, one eyebrow arched in disbelief. “Razorbeak… that’s mad. You should know that you can’t absorb a unicorn’s magical strength through eating them. If that were true, then I’m sure we would have had a rash of magic-wielding griffons many, many years before this.”

“Don’t be stupid- I know that eating a unicorn can’t give you their magic.” Razorbeak smiled slyly. “Which is why what happens before the eating is the most crucial, the most important part of the whole operation.”

A new blossom of horror bloomed in Dark Star’s chest as his eyes narrowed yet again.

“And what is the most important part?”

“Oh my dear unicorn, I would have thought you could reason that out for yourself.” The griffon chuckled darkly. “Perhaps you can tell me… where a unicorn’s magic is the strongest? When he or she is not actually casting spells, mind you.” His eyes flashed in the firelight. “Tell me where a unicorn’s magic flows; where it finds a conduit through a unicorn’s entire body, filling them with power…”

A conduit? Dark Star was familiar with many of the theories about the magical power that unicorns harnessed, or at least the theories that were contemporary to his own time. The most accepted theory was simply that each unicorn was tied to ley-lines that laced the world, and that their horn allowed them to tap into the magic that these ley-lines held. He frowned. But that doesn’t make sense... I guess he could be eating the horns, but that wouldn’t work… Unless…

The hair at the base of Dark’s neck rose again as that now-familiar blanket of horror wrapped tightly around him once more. Unless he’s talking about blood magic. There had, long ago in ancient Equestria, been a group of ponies who postulated that a unicorn was not simply touching the ley-lines, but that they were actually part of the lines themselves, carrying in their very life’s blood the essence of the ley-lines which allowed them to use magic at all. This theory had been taken into serious consideration by many of the high-ranking scholars of the day… until it had come to light that the same group that had been purporting this claim had been spilling the blood of other unicorns to enhance the effects of their own spells. The Princesses, who were both still ruling at this point in history, did their best to quash the group and their horrendous rituals, and the theory of “magical blood” was never brought to hard scientific light. It doesn’t appear to have kept it secret, though…

“You can’t be serious,” Dark muttered. “You’re talking about blood magic. That was a theory, nothing more.” The griffon grinned down at him and snapped his black beak sharply.

“The magic that flows through a unicorn’s blood is strong,” Razorbeak said, his voice hushed and excited. “But it only holds that magic while the pony still lives… so its properties can only be transferred when it is warm, fresh from the body.” He grinned as he lifted a talon and ran it gently across the feathers of his neck in a long, curving line. “I drink their blood to absorb their magical power, and then we all feast together.”

“That’s insane. YOU are insane,” Dark spat. “You can’t absorb magical power by drinking unicorn blood! You’ve been sipping deathberry tea, griffon.” But Razorbeak’s grin simply broadened, and a shiver darted down Dark’s spine. It doesn’t matter what I say; he’s convinced he’s right… The unicorn shook his head. He’s absolutely touched in the head. “But let’s imagine for a moment that you do have a real reason for eating unicorns,” Dark continued. “That would explain most of the kidnappings; but what about those two?” He pointed to Turnover and Melody, who were still standing with Trixie and Moonflower. “They’re earth ponies, not unicorns. What possible reason could you have for kidnapping them, as well?”

The griffon drew himself up to his full height, his face suddenly serious. “The filly was a mistake. She was with her mother when my servants went to abduct her, and in the confusion of the kidnapping she was shoved into the sack along with the white unicorn.” His seriousness didn’t last long, however, and as he shifted his eyes from Melody to Turnover, the off-putting grin returned to his face. “The stallion, however, was intentional.”

“And why did you take him?” Dark pressed.

“The rest of my village has to eat, don’t they? And besides…” Razorbeak arched an eyebrow at Turnover. “…what better way for my contact in Clyde’s Dale to relieve himself of pesky do-gooders than to have them mysteriously kidnapped, never to be heard from again?”

Dark winced and swore softly under his breath. His contact in Clyde’s Dale… of course. How better to coordinate kidnappings than to have a source inside the village, telling him when would be the best time to strike? And it would also explain how the ponies working for Razorbeak knew where to find unicorns specifically without having to search the whole town every night they attacked. But who..? The unicorn sighed to himself. I’m starting to think I’m not very good at mysteries.

Turnover, however, didn’t seem to have the same problems coming up with a suspect. He stamped his hoof so loudly that it made Moonflower jump almost a foot into the air as he cursed angrily.

“By the sun and moon,” he snarled. “Downdraft! That sneaky son of a dragon-spawn! He’s the one behind this, isn’t he?!”

“Behind this?” Razorbeak chortled. “Oh no- that stallion is merely in the employment of the same organization that I am. The only thing he is “behind” is his mayor’s desk, which he will do anything to keep, from what I understand.” The griffon raised his wings slightly, his eyes flashing once more in the firelight. “Are you content, now? Have you asked all the questions you wished? Will you be able to face the void of death more comfortably now that you have sated your earthly desires?” His beak closed then opened with a shnick-shnick. “Because I’m terribly hungry… and I get very, very angry when I am hungry…”

Dark Star shifted his hooves into a loose combat stance, turning his left side to face the griffon.

“I hate to disappoint you, Razorbeak, but you won’t be eating anypony tonight.”

“Oh, and I suppose you’ll be stopping me?” The griffon’s voice was almost mirthful, and he couldn’t keep a slight smirk from quirking the corner of his mouth. “Just you? That’s it? You’re hardly a mouthful for me, little pony.”

Now it was Dark’s turn to smirk. “I think you’re biting off more than you can chew, fledgling.” His horn flashed brilliantly in the night, washing the area in cerulean light for the briefest moment before allowing the orange firelight to slowly fade back to dominance. “Before this night is over, I’ll be walking out of this town with these ponies, safe and unharmed.”

Razorbeak’s jaw clenched tightly enough that Dark could hear his beak grind together from where he stood, but instead of leaping down to attack Dark he took a step back towards the door of the manor, his eyes burning with anger.

“There will be no walking out of here for you,” he growled. “There will be no more walking, no more breathing, no more anything for you, unicorn.” He turned one golden eye towards the dark manor, and again Dark saw a gentle red glow illuminate the interior of Razorbeak’s chainmail vest; it faded quickly, and as it fell dark again three figures emerged from inside the manor, their bodies slowly fading out of the darkness as if it were shaping them on the spot.

The three ponies were very similar in coloration and build; they each had a flat black coat with dull silver manes, and if Dark had to make the assumption he would have said that they were all siblings, though he supposed that their coats and manes could have been dyed to look the same. The one on the left was a mare, her mane longer than the other two and curled slightly at the end so that it hooked around the base of her neck; she was slender and lithe with piercing violet eyes that spoke of neither kindness nor compassion. The other two were stallions, but you wouldn’t have been able to tell if their manes weren’t cut so short; they shared the same icy blue eye color and were both built very similarly to the mare, but their muscular nature was painfully obvious as they stepped forward to stand near Razorbeak and bowed, the firelight shifting across their coats as their muscles rippled. They’re built for speed, not power, Dark appraised quickly. Born and bred to be fast.

“I’d say that you should recognize the ponies who followed you through the forest and through the town, but I doubt that you had any idea they were there.” He reached out and patted the mare atop her silvery mane affectionately. “The Shadows, I call them. Not very inventive, perhaps, but it suits them. Moon Wraith,” Razorbeak said to the mare before turning to face the two stallions. “Specter, Raven: this unicorn needs to be brought to heel.” The griffon turned back and grinned at Dark Star. “Kill him.”

The unicorn simply grinned back and crouched slightly, his knees bent and ready to react.

“Let’s go.”

Chapter 9

Never get into a fight you can’t win. It was something that Dark Star’s very first sword instructor had told him time and time again, and a phrase that had irked a much younger Dark to his very core. His instructor, a unicorn named Keen Edge, had been very demanding of and completely dispassionate towards his students, as well as totally indifferent towards their hardships in training. He’d also had a knack for finding a student’s emotional weakness and exploiting it, pushing them harder than any other instructor of the era. Most of his students had washed out within weeks of apprenticing themselves to him, but Dark had stuck through, determined to be one of the few who passed Master Edge’s grueling regime. But Keen Edge had been able to find his weak spots, and as the training continued he was able to press Dark’s buttons, causing him to lose his temper and attack his hard-nosed instructor on multiple occasions- all of which had ended with Dark Star hurting in ways he could never have imagined before as Keen Edge had simply sheathed his sword and said, Never get into a fight you can’t win.

At first, Dark had thought his master was simply mocking him by telling him he wasn’t good enough. He had thought that Master Edge was showing him how little he’d learned and was pushing Dark back down as he desperately tried to rise above the jarring routine of his training. However, as his training progressed, Dark had slowly learned to filter out the doubts that the simple statement had instilled in him. He had learned to trust himself, trust his sword, and to stop thinking and fight. Finally, he and Master Edge had faced off one last time, a fight that had ended in a victory for Dark Star. His master had nodded, sheathed his sword, and said, Now you’ll never get into a fight you can’t win.

The truth of the simple statement had long eluded Dark, and it was not until years later that he truly understood them; that by allowing his emotions to override his training, he was losing the fight before he even started. However, by using his training to focus his emotions into correct action, victory was already assured.

And so, as Dark Star gazed up at the porch before him, three Pegasi and a rather large griffon arrayed against him, he couldn’t help but smile ever so slightly even as his muscles tensed beneath his cloak. And now, there’s no fight I can’t win.

Razorbeak casually raised his talon into the air and held it aloft for a moment, his eyes full of amusement as the ponies of the village dispersed around them, giving a wide berth to Dark and the group of prisoners; they knew without doubt that this fight wasn’t going to be quick or clean.

There was no way that any of them could have realized how wrong they were.

Razorbeak held his claw aloft for a moment before his eyes flashed red and he dropped his claw. As he did so, the three Shadows moved synchronously, as if they were all the reflections of just one pony; their wings flared and pumped firmly, launching them into the air above the porch in half a heartbeat. Dark’s horn blazed with light as the three changed direction seamlessly in mid-air, their upward trajectory suddenly turning into an arc that sent them straight at the unicorn, their eyes impassive, their front hooves poised to pummel him into submission.

Dark’s horn flashed brilliant white and with a grunt he threw his head to his left as hard as he could, lifting his front hooves off the ground and pivoting on his rear legs as he drew a blazing ribbon of magic across the air between himself and the three Pegasi; it flared bright blue as he drew it in an arc above him, the magic forming what appeared to be translucent blue glass about two feet wide above the black unicorn. He drew it between himself and the last Pegasus just before they got to him, and so perfect was their timing, so exact were their trajectories and so fast was their speed that they all three impacted the ribbon at the same time… and stopped dead. Their legs bent as they hit the magical glass-ribbon, and for a single heartbeat they all three hung perfectly still in the air.

But Dark Star didn’t stop moving. As soon as they hit the ribbon he released his magic; his horn went dark and the band of magic suddenly became completely transparent and ceased to glow as he dropped to all four hooves before lashing out with his back hooves at the Pegasus who had attacked his right side and now sat squarely behind him.

There was a smash like shattering glass as both of Dark’s hooves impacted first the transparent magical ribbon then the black Pegasus stallion behind it; the strike took him squarely in the face and bucked him backwards into a bush at the edge of the square where he landed in a heap, unmoving.

As soon as the ribbon had shattered it shimmered in place and a half-second later it vanished completely, leaving the remaining stallion and the mare hovering in place, their momentum stolen from them; Dark whirled back to the right, his horn blazing with magic once more as he grabbed the mare in his telekinetic grip and used his own momentum to amplify the force of his magic as he slammed her into the stallion next to her with a resounding crunch that echoed around the silent square. His blue magic faded from her as she hit and the two Pegasi went flying off to land atop the other stallion by the bush; they landed in a heap, half rolling into the shrubbery before they lay still.

The corner of Dark’s mouth quirked slightly, and he turned back to face Razorbeak with triumph in his eyes.

“Your Shadows have a thing or two to learn about attacking a unicorn,” he said quietly. “Brute force and speed might overwhelm the unprepared, but that’s a gamble at the best of times.” He glanced over at the ponies lying in a heap. “I guess if any of them survive those hits, they’ll know better for next time.” Dark’s eyes went back to the griffon, his muscles still tensed to the edge of action. “If they survive,” he repeated quietly. He didn’t expect that Razorbeak would take the defeat of his servants particularly well, and he was certain that the griffon would be swooping down at him in a matter of moments to exact his revenge.

To his surprise, however, the griffon simply glanced over to the pile of Pegasi for a moment before calmly turning his eyes back to Dark.

“Not bad, unicorn,” he said, his voice even. “I have to say I didn’t expect you to be able to fend them all off. I thought at least one would get to you.”

“I’d say I’m sorry I disappointed you, but I’m not much for telling lies.”

“Well, that’s something we have in common, then.” Razorbeak turned and slowly made his way to the edge of the porch, his golden eyes watching Dark closely. “Whether you believe me or not, unicorn, everything I have told you about my reasons for being here has been true. I have been nothing but open and honest with you, so believe me when I say…” Razorbeak stepped down off the porch and spread his wings wide. “…you may have defeated my servants, but if you choose to stand and fight against me, you will die here.”

“If I stand and fight?” asked Dark, his brow rising incredulously. “I thought I had made my intentions perfectly clear.”

“Nevertheless,” said Razorbeak flatly, his eyes boring into Dark’s. “I feel it only proper to warn you that you can’t beat me, and that to engage in combat with me would be folly.” He smirked. “I am a warrior- something that has been bred out of your lineage for almost three hundred years.”

A brilliant bubble of excitement suddenly floated up into the maelstrom of anger and horror that filled Dark and he couldn’t keep from grinning eagerly at the griffon’s admission. A griffon warrior... it’s been a very long time since I’ve had the opportunity to fight a griffon. No matter what he had been throughout his life, Dark Star was a warrior to his core, and the prospect of fighting another warrior again filled him with eager anticipation; however, as quickly as that bubble had risen in his chest it burst, and his expression returned to a frown. But I don’t have the time. I have to get these ponies out of here, and I have to do it quickly. He barely managed to stifle a sigh of disappointment as he raised his head and stood up straight once more.

“And what if I simply blast you with magic?” Dark asked casually. “That could end this situation very quickly, and with very few problems for me.” He shifted on his hooves so that he once more stood in a basic combat stance. “What do you have to say to that, Razorbeak?”

If Dark was honest with himself, he had to admit that he’d expected that bringing up his magical abilities would take the wind out of Razorbeak’s sails and deflate his ego a bit, forcing him to see that tangling with Dark wasn’t in his best interest. The best fight is one that you can avoid, he thought. He had not, however, expected the griffon to throw his head back and laugh loudly, his wings bouncing mirthfully as his rolling laughter filled the square once more. The unicorn felt his ire flare to life once more as his teeth ground together audibly. I may only be here to rescue these ponies… but it’s starting to look like this griffon has a death wish.

“Your magic, unicorn?” the griffon finally managed to wheeze between laughs. “Do you… do you really truly think that I would have stuck around to fight you if I was worried about your magic?” He laughed once more before grinning at Dark, and again he saw the red light flash through Razorbeak’s eyes. “Go ahead, unicorn. Use your magic. I dare you. Use your magic, and see if it can free you!”

Dark arched an eyebrow at the griffon for a moment, but it was clear that Razorbeak was not bluffing. And I guess I’d be a poor guest if I disappointed my host…

“Suit yourself,” muttered Dark; he grasped his magic, but this time instead of the clear cerulean light that had expanded from his horn before there was a burst of brilliant red flame that surged from it, the tongues of fire swirling around the tip of his horn to gather in the air above him. Once there the fire swelled, growing brighter and brighter as he fed more and more magic into it until he had a blazing fireball roughly the size of the griffon’s head hovering above his horn. Dark’s face was impassive as he held the ball steady for a moment, his eyes searching Razorbeak’s expression for any signs of panic, regret or remorse; even if roasting this griffon alive would get them out of here faster, Dark knew that if he could avoid bloodshed, he would. If he gives me a reason not to do this, I’ll let him live…

But all that Dark received from Razorbeak was a flat glare that repeated those three words: I dare you.

The unicorn sighed regretfully and reared up slightly on his back hooves, raising his front legs off the ground; then he threw his head forward, and with a sharp downward slash of his horn he sent the fireball hurtling towards the griffon, the heat of it so intense that is scorched the small amount of grass that had managed to grow in the clearing, causing it to go up in spurts of flame along the fireball’s path. The griffon’s challenging smile grew broader as he folded his wings in front of his face, shielding him from view. In the space of a heartbeat the ball of fire crossed the distance between Dark and Razorbeak, the trailing flames blocking the griffon from Dark’s vision for what he was certain would be Razorbeak’s final moments. Dark winced slightly. A fireball is a gruesome way to go… but he DID dare me…

The fireball impacted the griffon, its outer shape warping as it did so, the flames wrapping around Razorbeak like a welcoming blanket of burning death… but they didn’t wash over Dark’s opponent in the way he expected; they simply sat there burning in mid-air for another long, almost eternal heartbeat… and then, as quickly as they had appeared from the air the flames were snuffed out as what appeared to be Razorbeak’s wings sliced through the fireball, causing it to lose its shape then collapse in on itself, vanishing in a huge puff of smoke that quickly filled the area. The almost blinding light that had overwhelmed the square vanished, casting the ponies into darkness for several moments until their light-dazzled eyes slowly adjusted to the softer illumination of the torches once more.

Dark rubbed his eyes slowly before raising his head once more. Maybe it was a trick of the fire, he thought with a frown. There is no possible way he survived that…

However, if there was one thing that Dark Star had learned in the past year, it was that he had an incredible propensity to be wrong.

He squinted into the clearing smoke, the pungent, earthy scent of it filling his nostrils and gathering at the back of his mouth as he tried to find the spot where he was certain Razorbeak would be laying in a heap... but as he watched, a shadow walked forward and emerged from the clearing smog- a shadow that gave one mighty flap of his huge wings and banished the smoke from whence he’d come, leaving no guesses as to his identity. Dark’s eyebrows rose nearly to his hairline as Razorbeak flapped his wings once more before folding them against his back, his eyes bright and smug.

“...well, that’s something you don’t see every day,” Dark said to nopony in particular.

“Is that the best you’ve got, unicorn?” the griffon sneered. “I told you: your vaunted magic will not avail you here.”

“So… that’s what you were after,” muttered Dark. “Drinking the blood of unicorns… it made you impervious to magic.” That makes things very interesting indeed. “That certainly wasn’t something that the proponents of blood magic had envisioned was possible. But I still don’t understand… what good does this do you? What good does it do this village to make you impervious to magic??”

Razorbeak grinned and stepped towards Dark, his talons digging into the soft earth of the square and leaving long furrows behind him as he stalked forward.

“This village is small, and the ponies here were being pushed around by a gang of unicorns. Needless to say they could do nothing in their own defense, and they could not manage to escape to seek help from Clyde’s Dale. That is, until I came along.” His grin grew, and the edge that it held made Dark’s skin crawl. “I killed and ate those unicorns, and promised this village that they would never again need to fear magical power.”

“And what happens now?” Dark pressed as he stood his ground firmly. “Surely you have bigger plans than just protecting this village, right? Now that you’re untouchable by magic, won’t you-,”

The griffon’s beak snapped viciously, cutting him off mid-sentence. “What I plan to do now is none of your business, unicorn,” he growled. “For now, there is only gather more power.” Razorbeak raised a claw to his chest, brushing away an imagined piece of dust as he glanced away from Dark. “But I am not without mercy, as any of these lovely villagers will tell you,” he said. “Now that you’ve seen that your magic is useless, perhaps you will be a bit more reasonable.” Razorbeak lifted his claw away from his chainmail and pointed at Dark Star, his eyes keen. “I shall let you go, stallion… under one condition.” His claw shifted infinitesimally, pointing past Dark and towards the other prisoners. “You may go, and take the others with you… except for the blue unicorn.”

Dark arched an eyebrow and turned slightly, following Razorbeak’s outstretched claw to Trixie, who was staring at the griffon with wide violet eyes. “Trixie?”

“Yes,” Razorbeak cooed. “Trixie… if you leave her with me, you may take the others and go. And I swear to you you’ll never hear paw or pinion of me again.” The griffon settled his claw back to his side, his expression smug and confident. “One pony, stallion- that is all I require. The sacrifice of that mare will bring safety not only to this group, but to Clyde’s Dale as a whole. A noble sacrifice, wouldn’t you say?”

The black stallion watched Trixie for a moment longer then turned back to Razorbeak, a detailed explanation of exactly what the griffon could do with his notion of “noble sacrifice” on his lips, but as he opened his mouth to speak, a voice cut through the silence and forced his words back down his throat.

“I’ll do it!”

Dark’s mouth snapped shut and he whirled back to Trixie, his cloak pooling around him as he locked his green gaze with her violet one.

“Trixie, stay out of this,” he growled, his tone making it very clear that he was not in a mood to discuss what was going to happen here, but the powder-blue mare would not be dissuaded. She took several steps forward, her eyes determined.

“NO, Trixie will NOT stay out of this!” she said, her voice a strange mixture of the despair he’d heard earlier and a staunchness that surprised him. “I… Trixie will accept those terms… Trixie will sacrifice her life to save the rest of you.”

“Trixie,” Dark began again, a smile quirking the edge of his mouth, but Trixie cut him off again with a wave of her hoof.

“Please… let Trixie do this.” The mare took another step towards him, and as she did he could plainly see the tears in her eyes, the desperation and desire deep inside them whirling and mixing in a whirlwind on her features. “Trixie… Trixie’s life has meant NOTHING… she has BEEN nothing for her whole, useless life…” She stepped towards him again, close enough that Dark could have reached out and touched her if he’d wanted to. “Let Trixie’s death be worth something, at least! Let Trixie save you, save these ponies…” Her head drooped slightly, and under her breath she whispered, “I don’t deserve to live… so please let me die for a purpose…” She let her voice trail off, her eyes filling with tears once more. “Please…”

Dark Star watched the mare closely, his expression flat and calm even as a cold chill ran down his spine. She sounds like me, he realized. She sounds like me these past few months, hidden away in that forest. His eyes searched hers, her purple irises so chaotic, yet so determined. If I’d been given the choice, I would have died to stop the amulet of Hate- I would have given my life for that purpose, so that my past mistakes in life would be forgiven…

After several long moments, his expression softened, and a smile curved his lips as he reached out and put a hoof onto Trixie’s shoulder.

“…no, Trixie,” he said, his voice soft yet firm. “I won’t let you do that.” The blue mare’s eyes went wide and she opened her mouth to retort, but his hoof moved from her shoulder to hover before her muzzle. “I won’t let you do that, Trixie, because I know what it is to seek redemption from past mistakes, and death is not a way to earn it. Only actions can earn redemption for you, and you can’t do that if you’re dead.” His smile quirked sadly. Oh Luna… if only you could hear me now…

“But… but I deserve to die,” she began, but a quick press from Dark Star’s hoof against her mouth silenced her.

“No, Trixie. If anypony deserved to die, it was me.” His smile quirked slightly. “And if I was given a second chance… you deserve one, too.” Without another word he turned back toward Razorbeak, his eyes hard. “No deal, griffon. We all leave together.”

Razorbeak blinked incredulously. “You… you can’t be serious… you would rather you all died?”

“As I told you before, we’re not going to die.” He took a step forward, his eyes locked with the griffon. “And it strikes me that you making a deal when you supposedly have the upper claw here says a great deal about your motives… and about your true nature.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“It means that you’re scared,” said Dark with another smile. “And you should be.” He rolled his shoulders slightly, loosening the muscles that had begun to tense up with all this standing around. “As I recall, there are still rules of protocol before a duel is begun, correct? Introductions to be made before two warriors dance.” He gestured with a hoof towards the griffon. “I’ll even let you go first.”

The silver and black griffon stared at him, for the first time seeming genuinely surprised by Dark’s actions. He was silent for several moments before he finally bowed his head ever so slightly.

“Not many ponies recall the ancient rites of combat,” he said softly. “It is something that we griffons held tightly to, but we had thought that ponies had long since forgotten them.”

Dark’s smile became sad. “I have not had the luxury to forget the warrior’s way,” he said simply. “Peace is for those who do not know war.”

Razorbeak watched him closely, his eyes unreadable. “…you surprise me,” he said finally. He raised his right claw, clenched it tightly into a fist and placed it firmly over his heart before bowing his head low, his eyes leaving Dark Star for the first time that evening. “My name is Aeric Razorbeak of Asgard, late of His Majesty King Windrider’s air force; former commander of the Storm Crows Aggressor Squadron along the border with Equestria.” He extended his claw towards Dark, palm up. “A warrior’s rest comes by another’s blade,” he intoned solemnly.

The dark stallion felt his heart beat firmly in his chest as Razorbeak put his talon back to the ground. So he wasn’t kidding about being a warrior, Dark thought. But that doesn’t make any sense…

“I see you, Aeric Razorbeak,” he replied ceremonially; he raised his hoof to the clasp of his cloak and released it with a click. “And I greet you, fellow warrior.” He gave his cloak a yank, sliding it from his body and tossing it behind him where it draped perfectly across Trixie’s back. Dark shifted, his silver sword shining in the torchlight as he lifted his right hoof to his chest as Razorbeak had done. “My name is Dark Star of Everfree, late of Her Majesty Nightmare Moon’s army; former General in the Army of the Night.” He extended his hoof towards the griffon, the bottom of his hoof up. “A warrior’s blade gives rest to his brothers,” he said, finishing the ancient phrase that had been the standard in griffon duels for generations before he had ever even fought one. To his surprise, Razorbeak’s eyes widened.

“…You cannot be him,” the griffon muttered. “You can’t be. That pony is long since dead, a thousand years in the past.” He gestured firmly with a talon. “You cannot be the one called Dark Star the Aerie Slayer, the dark stallion who served the Queen of the Moon. You may wear his name, but you are not him.”

There was a subtle wave of murmurs as Razorbeak placed his talon back to the ground, and Dark’s ears twitched towards them; they were soft enough that he could not catch any one conversation entirely, but he heard Nightmare Moon whispered several times. The ponies don’t seem to have any trouble remembering that name, and it would seem that the griffons have held on to a few themselves.

“…Aerie Slayer…” Dark winced as he said it. “That’s definitely not one of the better names I received.” He sighed and his horn ignited, slowly drawing his sword from his sheath and bringing it to hover before him, the silver of the blade shimmering orange and red in the firelight. His eyes met Razorbeak’s once more over the sword. “You’ve killed countless unicorns in a drive for power… but something tells me that there’s more behind this than you’re letting on. You’re a fighter, Razorbeak, not a murderer; your words say you are a ruthless killer, but your service to the King and your adherence to the ancient rites of the warrior make it hard for me to believe that.” His eyes narrowed. “I want you to tell me who is behind this. Tell me who sent you here, and what their plans are for you now that you have attained this immunity to magic.”

The griffon watched him closely for a moment, his eyes filling with something that Dark had not seen there before: uncertainty, as if Dark Star had given him an option that he’d never considered. The stallion’s hope surged as he watched Razorbeak’s brow rise ever so slightly and his mouth open almost imperceptibly… but just as quickly as the uncertainty had risen it was dashed away again, and Razorbeak’s eyes became cold and calculating as he crouched down ever so slightly, his body tensed to pounce.

“If you can defeat me, warrior, I will tell you what you want to know,” he said. He paused before shaking his head slightly and murmuring, “…If you triumph here, I swear on my honor you will have your answers.”

Dark’s sword snapped to him, the hilt held down by his right leg, the blade diagonal across his chest defensively.

“I accept,” he said. “Let this ritual of combat…”

“…prove the truth of our hearts.” As soon as the words to begin the duel had been spoken Razorbeak pounced, his talons held before him as his wings propelled him forward towards Dark Star like an arrow.

The unicorn’s hooves dug into the soft ground as he danced out of the griffon’s path, leaning to his left as he leaped to the side; there was no time to calculate it, but he was certain that the griffon outweighed him by at least half again, and that wasn’t something he fancied catching with his sword. He dodged deftly to his left as Razorbeak’s front talons swept out towards him, missing the stallion by mere inches as he sailed past, his wings tucked in to streamline his form. There was a loud clang as Dark’s hovering sword met Razorbeak’s chainmail vest in mid-air and was rebounded, sending it spiraling back to hover before Dark as he spun quickly and lunged after the griffon, his sword dancing to his left side with the blade horizontal to the ground.

Razorbeak landed nimbly and whirled to face Dark, his wings flaring behind him as he rose to his rear paws, his talons at the ready; and Dark was there, his blade striking from his left at the griffon’s neck in a quick horizontal slash before Razorbeak had even fully turned around. But the griffon hadn’t been lying about his warrior prowess, at least- his right claw darted into the path of Dark’s sword and batted it away with its thick-skinned back. Razorbeak grinned, and as he turned he used his momentum to lash out with his left claw at Dark’s unprotected right side; but Dark jerked his horn and his sword was there as quick as thought, its silver length sliding beneath the griffon’s defending claw and swatting his black talons away from Dark’s unarmored coat.

Razorbeak’s black and silver wings pumped once firmly, propelling him forward as he struck at Dark with his right claw again, and again Dark’s sword flashed across his chest to deflect it; but before he could bring his blade back to bear against his opponent, Dark was forced to all but throw himself to the right to avoid the griffon’s black beak as Razorbeak lunged forward and bit at the unicorn with all his might, his beak clamping shut so close to Dark’s ear that he hear the scissor-like schnick of the top and bottom slicing together. His sword managed to draw yet another line across the griffon’s chest, but again the chainmail vest stopped the blade from doing any damage whatsoever.

Dark took several quick steps back, his eyes locked on his opponent as he withdrew. He held his sword low, hilt slightly raised by his right shoulder, blade pointing downwards at the ground as he began to circle Razorbeak, his heart pounding against his ribs.

Razorbeak settled back to all four feet and likewise circled, his wings raised, his beak parted slightly as if he longed for nothing more than to sink its hooked tip into Dark’s flesh and rend him to pieces. Which may actually be high on his ‘to-do’ list, Dark admitted, his eyes narrowing critically at his opponent.

Fighting a griffon was no picnic; their claws and talons gave them dangerous weapons on all four limbs, as well as the beak that they could use to end battles quickly and gruesomely. And this griffon is fighting wearing a chainmail vest, covering his most vulnerable spots: his belly and his back. Dark’s steps were firm and steady as he circled Razorbeak, his blade idly flicking from his left side to his right. There aren’t many ways to get the best of a griffon, but those are the fastest and most reliable.

Dark brought his blade back to his guard stance- hilt low by his right shoulder, his blade angled high across his chest- and slowly advanced on Razorbeak, who stopped his own circling as he came to stand before the manor in the square once more. The griffon’s wings twitched behind him and his long, feline tail swished eagerly back and forth as the stallion closed the distance between them steadily. Dark’s eyes watched every part of his opponent carefully: his legs, his neck, his wings, every part of Razorbeak could tell Dark Star something about where and how the griffon would attack, and Dark knew that missing something could easily mean some rather unsightly wounds. He’s coiled up like a spring, ready to be released at any moment.

The black stallion forced himself to pause when he was still two pony-lengths away from Razorbeak, just barely outside the range the griffon could attack without moving. Maybe if I give that spring a reason to uncoil, I can draw him out, he thought. As he stopped Razorbeak twitched visibly, his muscles bunching and relaxing beneath his black fur and feathers as his eyes stared unblinkingly at Dark, watching the stallion’s every movement just as Dark was watching his… but he made no move to advance.

Stubborn griffon… Dark snorted slightly as his hooves dug into the ground and propelled him forward once more; he shifted the sword in his telekinetic grip, bringing it alongside his right side so that the tip of his sword pointed straight at Razorbeak’s heart.

In his time as a warrior, Dark Star had run into certain ponies- scholars and mages, mostly- who had seen fit to tell him that a battle was nothing more than brute strength applied against one another from both sides, and that it was a simple equation of might vs. might as to who would come out on top. If that was so, then in this battle Dark Star was certain to come up short. Razorbeak had home field advantage, as well as the edge in physical strength, weapons at his disposal and options for angle of attack; an equation that heavily favored the griffon and all but doomed the unicorn. However, Dark always took great pride in correcting those very same scholars and mages, telling them that a battle was more strategy than strength, more mental than physical; that a smart warrior would win against a physically more powerful one every single time.

His teeth ground together as he closed in on the griffon, his eyes hot and his heart pounding in his ears. I really, really hope I was right all those years ago.

The distance between the two fighters shrank rapidly, Dark Star’s hooves hammering the earth with thunderous force as he charged the griffon before him, his black and blue mane flowing behind him like dark swirling water. The griffon’s eyes stared golden hunger at him, his beak parted as he waited for his chance to pounce on Dark once more; but instead of getting close to Razorbeak as he’d done last time the stallion dug his hooves into the ground a full pony-length sooner than he had before, jerking his horn violently to the left as he sent his sword whistling through the air, its shining silver point driving unerringly towards Razorbeak’s heart as he slid to a halt, his right side facing his opponent.

It should have been a solid hit- Dark Star knew his timing and spacing well enough that even wearing his chainmail the blade should have given Razorbeak a good bruise to think about for the rest of the fight. Even if he parried, which Dark had expected, the unicorn had left himself enough room to move and counterattack… but Razorbeak had other plans. He moved faster than Dark Star would have thought possible; his left wing jerked upwards, his left shoulder dropped and his whole body shifted to his right all in the same motion as the sword closed in on him. His golden eyes never left Dark as the blade ripped through his feathers and flesh as the strike that should have taken him in the heart glanced off his shoulder and down his side, passing beneath his wing like a whispering silver wind and imbedding itself deeply into the wooden porch of the manor house… leaving Dark Star completely undefended.

Dark’s eyes widened. Oh son of a-!

Razorbeak’s sideways movement abruptly became forward motion, his crouched back legs propelling him forward; the unicorn’s muscles tensed and began to move, but even as his hooves dug into the ground and pushed him backwards he knew he was too late. The griffon was already too close, and in spite of himself Dark winced as Razorbeak’s talons lashed out at him. That is really going to hurt…

He wasn’t disappointed; Razorbeak’s black claws raked his right shoulder firmly from mid-chest to shoulder, slicing neatly through his flesh, leaving three deep gashes through his coat and sending a white sheet of pain through his whole body. The force of the impact sent Dark Star reeling, his heart pounding in his ears as his shoulder suddenly began to throb in time with it; he swore as blood gushed from the wounds, the thick red substance slicking his coat as it poured down his leg. But there was no time to try and stem the escape of his life’s blood as Razorbeak pressed his advantage, striking out with his left claw as Dark tried to put distance between them. The dark stallion danced back, his shoulder stinging as he tried to put his full weight on his right front leg; it buckled slightly and sent a brand-new lance of fiery pain through him that made his teeth grind. All right, new plan- DON’T use that leg. He lifted his right leg slightly and shifted his weight to his remaining three as he limped away in retreat, his horn still glowing brilliant blue as he held on to his magic.

“What’s the matter, unicorn?” Razorbeak hissed as he stalked forward, his wings shivering with anticipation of a kill. “Suddenly not so mighty without your trinket, is that it?”

Dark Star felt a trickle of sweat slide down the side of his face as he stared the griffon down unblinking as his retreat slowed then stopped; he planted his three uninjured hooves firmly into the ground, refusing to take another step as Razorbeak advanced.

“I guess you could say I’m feeling a bit left out of the fight now,” he said.

“Oh, but this can’t go on without you!” cooed Razorbeak, his tongue flashing out to trace the edge of his beak. “This is what you wanted, and I gave it to you…” Again, something beneath his chainmail glowed red for the briefest of moments, and his eyes widened eagerly. “…and now it’s time to get what I want.”

Dark Star sighed, and allowed his ears to droop in defeat. “As you will, Razorbeak… you’ve beaten me.” He raised his head proudly, but his eyes were sad. “Give me the honor of a warrior’s death, at least; strike me down as your ancestors would have.”

The griffon laughed lightly, but he nodded none the less. “As you wish, unicorn; as I said before, I suppose even food deserves a last request.” He took the last step that separated them and raised his right claw high above his head- the traditional griffon strike of execution. “Any last words?” he whispered. “Perhaps you would like to tell me your real name..?”

“I… I do have some last words, actually…” muttered Dark, his whole body slouched in defeat. “I… I just wanted to say…” He sighed and shook his head, struggling with his words… and then suddenly he couldn’t keep the smirk from his lips any longer as he brought his eyes up and locked them on Razorbeak, who blinked in surprise.

“…You really shouldn’t play with your food, griffon.”

His horn flared brilliantly, washing the firelight away with blinding cerulean light as the sound of splintering wood echoed through the square. Razorbeak’s eyes filled with rage and he snarled aloud as he brought his talons slashing down at Dark Star, but all they met was cold silver steel as Dark’s blade answered his call, flashing between the two combatants to intercept the griffon’s claws before they got even halfway to their mark.

Razorbeak roared and lashed out wildly with his left claw, his reason washed away in a tide of anger so hot that Dark could feel it from where he stood; and this time instead of retreating, Dark Star lurched forward, rearing up onto his back hooves and catching the griffon’s foreleg across his shoulder and neck while it was still high in the air. He snarled in pain as the griffon’s full weight settled onto his injured shoulder, but he wrapped his front legs over it nonetheless, holding on tightly as the griffon shrieked with unfathomable rage. Razorbeak glared at him hatefully and opened his beak wide, intent on slicing into Dark’s throat with its wicked hook, but Dark wasn’t going to give him that chance.

The stallion shifted his weight and ducked his head beneath Razorbeak’s leg just as the griffon snapped at him again, his beak snipping some of Dark’s mane away as the dark unicorn put his own leg between them. Dark’s forelegs tightened around Razorbeak’s left leg, holding it high in the air as the griffon straightened and swiveled his head up and over his shoulder, taking full advantage of his avian flexibility to bring his beak to bear once more on Dark… but that was as far as he got.

With the sound of metal across metal, Dark Star’s sword flicked to him and slid up the griffon’s chest to the hollow beneath Razorbeak’s upraised leg, the one place that was vulnerable in the vest itself. The sword jabbed in almost to the hilt in one hard, violent motion, deep enough that the point of the blade actually pushed the light armor out on his right side ever so slightly; Razorbeak’s eyes bulged in his head, his mouth widening in sudden pain and surprise as the blade was removed just as quickly, leaving a clean hole through his chest from the side.

Dark Star released him quickly, dropping to his three good hooves and putting a few pony-lengths between them, his blood-stained blade hovering in the air before him. Pain surged through his body from his shoulder, and his muscles all screamed at him from exertion, but his eyes were hard and guarded as he stared fixedly at Razorbeak. A lesser creature would certainly be no threat after such a blow, but he’d fought griffons before, and they were anything but “lesser” when it came to continuing to fight after taking grievous wounds.

Razorbeak, however, didn’t seem inclined to come after Dark; he simply stared at him, his eyes still wide. “Y-you…” he managed to mutter finally, but his words were choked off by a fit of violent coughing. He clutched at his chest, and a brilliant streak of crimson appeared on his lower jaw as the cough wracked him for several moments before finally subsiding. He managed a weak chuckle as he brought his claw up and wiped the blood away, peering it almost curiously before turning his eyes back to Dark once more. “You… may not be who you claim to be… but you are skilled enough to wear his name.” He took a deep, wheezing breath, and his legs wobbled beneath him as he fought to stay upright. “Although it seems that you are a bit… rusty… you are an admirable warrior.”

“And you fought well- you brought honor to your clan and King,” replied Dark, inclining his head slightly. “You truly were a fighter, Aeric Razorbeak.” Razorbeak laughed again, a horrible, thick wheezing sound, his whole body shaking as his legs got weaker by the moment.

“Please… don’t speak of me in the past tense… I’m not dead yet.” He inhaled sharply and his legs gave out completely, depositing him firmly onto his rump. Dark wiped his sword on his flank before sheathing it and moving to where Razorbeak sat. The griffon turned his eyes to him, but the fierce, burning orbs of gold had lost their fire; the life was quickly draining out of Razorbeak, and he knew it.

“As you wish,” Dark said as he limped back to stand in front of Razorbeak once more. The big griffon’s sides were covered in blood, and the puddle beneath him was growing rapidly. Wounds like that don’t let anypony linger too long, Dark thought. Even if I did want him dead, I don’t want him to suffer. He sighed inwardly. This means, of course, that I don’t have much time, either. Dark shifted and took the weight off of his front leg once more, trying to ease the growing discomfort in the wounded limb. “But there is one thing to take care of before your pain is eased, Razorbeak…” The griffon nodded numbly, and turned his eyes back to Dark; or at least, he tried to- they were slowly becoming clouded and lost, as if he were walking into a thick fog that had suddenly blanketed his mind.

“Yes… I have not forgotten.” He coughed again, but it was softer this time, and more blood than before poured from his beak, staining his armor red. “This was… not my desire. I had a falling out with my King… and my clan… I was exiled, looking for work… and angry… so very angry…” He shook his head slightly and slowly began to lean to his right, his strength clearly fading fast. “One stallion gave me work… gave me a purpose… b-but I see now… I was a pawn…”

Dark Star stepped forward and his horn ignited once more, placing a blue cloud of telekinetic magic beneath Razorbeak’s precariously leaning form.

“This stallion,” Dark pressed. “What is his name? What is his plan?”

“His plan…” Razorbeak’s voice trailed off, and his eyes flickered closed for the briefest of moments as his breathing stalled; then his chest heaved again, the thick, horrible sucking noise resounding in the square as his eyes shot open and locked with Dark’s. “His plan was never told to me… he wouldn’t tell any of us…”

Any of us… that doesn’t bode well… Dark Star shook his head slightly. “Then what is his name, Razorbeak? Tell me his name.”

The griffon took one last huge breath… and chuckled harshly.

“I… fear him more in death… than I do in life… and I shall not speak his name again…”

“Razorbeak,” growled Dark, his voice hard. “You swore on your honor!” But if the griffon heard him, he gave no indication as his face faded from pain to peace, and his eyes stared past Dark, past the village, past Equestria to the burning stars above them.

“…I go to my rest… farewell, Dark Star…”

The griffon’s eyes faded and became glassy, and his chest fell for the last time as his life finally ebbed away, releasing Aeric Razorbeak from his earthly bonds. Dark Star winced and swore softly under his breath, but after a moment he sighed and stood up straight, reaching out to close Razorbeak’s eyes as he solemnly intoned the final ancient line that would close their duel.

“May your rest be deep and full, brother- my blade shall remember your valor.”

His magic shifted and allowed the griffon to settle down onto the ground, his body shifting as it did so… and as Razorbeak’s head settled flat on the ground, a small, silver chain appeared around the neck of his vest, something that had remained tucked away for the duration of their battle. Dark Star frowned slightly, and shifted his magic to the chain. He gave it a delicate pull…

…and felt his entire world come crashing down around him.

His eyes widened, and his chest felt as if someone had stabbed him through the back with a knife and twisted it. His heart pounded violently, sending jolts of pain through his shoulder and leg, but Dark Star didn’t feel it; his entire body felt as if somepony were squeezing it, crushing it beneath the weight of a thousand moons.

Because on the end of that delicate silver chain was a silver pendant that held a gemstone; a faceted, blood-red stone that had certainly been the cause of the flashes of red light that Dark had seen through the chainmail… and a stone that Dark Star was all too familiar with. It was a stone that he had crafted himself, one that had been used to bring Princess Celestia to the brink of defeat… and one of three others that had almost killed his friends.

The Amulet of Anger.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he heard a voice from the past, a voice that he had thought he would never hear again.

You have always served me, Dark Star… and no matter what they tell you… you always, always will…

Dark felt his body begin to tremble, and before he could stop himself his hooves had grabbed Razorbeak by the shoulders and lifted him up out of his own blood.

“Who gave this to you?!” he snarled, his stomach churning so violently that his throat burned from the bile. “WHO GAVE THIS TO YOU, RAZORBEAK?! TELL ME HIS NAME!!!!” he screamed, shaking the griffon as hard as he could with his injured shoulder.

But Razorbeak’s head only flopped back and forth lifelessly. Dark Star’s teeth ground together as emotions crashed together inside him; guilt, grief, horror, confusion, all colliding together in a cacophony of the past that threatened to overwhelm the black stallion, all being swirled by an unbearable, unfathomable anger…

Dark Star squeezed his eyes shut tightly, and forced himself to take a breath, then exhale. Then another breath and another exhale.

He didn’t know. The thought burst out of the maelstrom of Dark’s inner turmoil like a fireball. He had no idea what this was… Dark looked long and hard at the dead griffon in his hooves, and after a moment he settled Razorbeak back to the ground. He had no idea… he would have announced it proudly at the beginning of the duel if he’d known what it was. The unicorn sat back, his mind reeling as he slowly reached a hoof up and pulled the necklace from Razorbeak’s body. The metal was cool and smooth, and the stone was flawless and brilliant; it was exactly as he remembered it… which should have been impossible, considering the fact that he had destroyed it the last time he’d seen it.

Something… is not right, here. He shook his head slightly as his horn lit up, levitating the necklace out of his hoof and into the air. But I can’t dig into it right now… I have some ponies to save.

He rose and turned towards the group of former prisoners, who were all staring at him as if he’d stepped out of a horror story. Much slower than he would have preferred to do so he limped over to where Trixie stood holding his neatly folded cloak. The powder blue mare was staring at him unabashedly, and without a word she levitated the cloak off of her outstretched foreleg and over his shoulders, as if she had all the practice in the world putting such items on ponies. Dark Star grunted his thanks and quickly moved the floating amulet to the pouch on the inside of the cloak.

Trixie’s eyes darted to the amulet as it vanished. “What… what was-,” she began, but Dark Star cut her off with an upraised hoof, his eyes cold.

“Trixie… if you value your life, you will never. EVER. Ask me about that amulet.” He pointed his hoof at her. “Do you understand?”

“Yes,” she replied without hesitation. “Trixie understands.” Her eyes darted to the dead griffon behind him, and Dark couldn’t help but smile slightly. I guess a certain kind of reputation does breed a no-questions-asked policy, now doesn’t it…

“All right,” he said to the group as he limped towards them, Trixie by his side. “We need to get going if we want to make it back to town by sunrise.”

Turnover, Moonflower and Melody all stared at him as if they weren’t seeing the same pony that had a mere hour before appeared like a hero from a storybook to rescue them. I guess I look a bit different than I did then, he thought. Not to mention they just watched me brutally kill three Pegasi and a griffon… He sighed and limped forward, wincing imperceptibly as he did so.

“Listen, I’m sorry you all had to see that,” he began, but before he could continue Turnover raised a hoof.

“Don’t apologize,” he said softly. “We… you didn’t exactly have a choice… and we all…” he cleared his throat slightly before continuing in a firmer tone of voice. “We’re all grateful for what you did to save us… Dark Star.”

“Yes… it was terrible, but… he wouldn’t have let us go otherwise,” Moonflower said, her voice shaking as she looked past Dark to Razorbeak’s cooling body. “It… couldn’t be helped.”

Dark nodded to Moonflower, and slowly his eyes fell on Melody, who was staring up at him from below her mother, her blue eyes wide. He opened his mouth to say something to her… but what? To apologize for killing in her presence? To try and excuse his behavior? I guess… I really don’t have anything to say to the filly…

But thankfully, he didn’t have to. Melody stepped out from between her mother’s legs and hurried forward, burying her face against his chest and causing Dark to gasp in pain. She hugged his one good leg as hard as she could, then released him and turned her eyes up to his face.

“…can we please go home now?” she asked softly. “I wanna go home, please, Mr. Dark Star…”

Dark stared down at her for a moment… then smiled softly.

“Yes, Melody. Let’s get you home.” Turnover nodded, and Melody hurried back to stand with her mother as they turned and started for the exit of town; the crowd around the edges of the square parted for them like wheat before a windstorm as first Turnover, then Moonflower and Melody, and finally Dark Star and Trixie passed through them to the empty street beyond.

As Dark passed through the outermost layer of ponies, he paused and turned back, his eyes hard. He took a deep breath and raised his voice so everypony in the square could hear him as Trixie stopped beside him.

“I will be checking up on this village again,” he announced. “And if any of this cannibalism nonsense is still going on… the next time I leave, your town will be nothing but a smoking crater. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!”

Silence greeted his words, but he hadn’t really expected a response; he’d just needed them to hear the warning. Because I bloody well mean it. He glared around at a few of the villagers before he turned and allowed Trixie to walk with him past the perfectly similar buildings, down the perfectly straight street in the strange town and out into the forest.

They were all finally free.

Chapter 10

The morning sun was bright as it rose over Clyde’s Dale, pouring warm golden light across the town and into the hallway into which Cherry Turnover stepped. She stifled a yawn with her hoof as she pulled the door to her bedroom closed behind her; it had been a restless night filled with hopeless thoughts and nightmares, and Cherry hadn’t gotten much sleep because of them. However, the rising sun meant a rising son for the warm brown mare, and with a firm sigh she pushed all of her uncertainty and fear to the back of her mind.

He needs me to be strong for him, she thought as she turned and made her way towards the front of their small home. I need to be strong so he believes that his dad can come back…

She took a deep breath as she approached the kitchen and it shook slightly as she exhaled. …and it helps me believe it, too.

Cherry shook her head slightly as she entered the kitchen, the room that was without a doubt the center of the Turnover household. Both Cherry and her husband Apple had a love of baking that was second only to their love for each other and their son, so the kitchen held many of their most wonderful memories for their family. Those memories had become slightly bittersweet over the past day, and until her husband was found, one way or the other, the memories would bring about emotions quite opposite from the ones that had made them.

As she entered the kitchen of their home, however, the only emotion that struck Cherry Turnover was an electric twinge of irritation as her eyes swept the room and found her son; he had pulled one of the chairs from their dinner table over to the window and was sitting perfectly still, his eyes peering tirelessly out the front of their home out into the street. Again.

“Cinnamon Turnover,” said Cherry, her voice terse as she tried her best to rein in her agitation. “I thought I told you to stop staring out that window.” Her son simply shifted in his chair, his eyes glued to the street outside.

“I know, Mom,” he answered. “But I want to see it when Dad comes home.”

Cherry’s chest flooded with pain at her son’s simple words, and it was all she could do to keep herself from snapping at him.

“I… I know, Cinnamon, but… but you have to understand that…” She trailed off, unsure where to go from there as her irritation became hopelessness, as it had so many times the night before. What am I supposed to tell him? That his daddy may never be coming home? Her hazel eyes watched her son for a long moment, tears welling in her even though she could have sworn she’d cried them all the night before. She took a deep breath, but before she could speak Cinnamon waved a hoof in her direction.

“I know, Mom- it might take the pony in the cloak more than jus’ one day to find Dad,” he said matter-of-factly. “But it might not, an’ since I don’t have school today, I’m just going to sit here an’ watch for Dad, okay?”

The fear, uncertainty and despair that had been mixing around in Cherry’s heart the night before crested across her face, and with a vexed sigh she put a hoof to her forehead.

“Cinnamon,” she began, her voice tinged with barely-controlled anger. “I told you yesterday to put the chair away and… find something else to do.”

“Yeah, an’ I did- yesterday.” The foal’s eyes never left the street. “But that was yesterday, not today.”

“I know it wasn’t today, Cinnamon,” said Cherry, her voice as tight as her jaw. “But I want you to put the chair away and stop looking out that window, all right?”

For the first time that morning, the young Turnover turned in his chair and looked at his mother, the confusion filling his deep brown eyes cutting the mare deeper than any of her kitchen knives ever had.

“But… why, Mom?” he asked. “Don’t you want to know right away when Dad comes home?”

“Well… yes, Cinnamon, but…” She sighed again, torn between the guilt of forcing her son to give up his vigil and the horrible pain that watching him sitting there all day would bring her. “I… I just don’t think it would be good for you to sit there all day waiting… waiting for your father when he might not…” She choked on her words, her throat tightening around them until they would not move any further. The young colt in the chair simply smiled at her before turning back to his window.

“Don’t worry, Mom,” said Cinnamon over his shoulder. “I’ll be jus’ fine. The pony in the cloak said he’d bring Dad home, an’ I believe him.”

A desperate laugh escaped Cherry’s lips before she could stop it. The pony in the cloak… that’s who my son is placing his hopes on… some stranger in black stalker gear…

“You believe him…” she muttered. “You believe some strange pony will bring your dad back, even when there is no reason for him to try?” She turned away from her son and back to the kitchen, but her words wouldn’t be stopped; they began spilling from her as all the anger, fear and pain that had accumulated in her over the past day welled up in her heart and forced them out. “You believe that some complete stranger will risk his life to go looking for some ponies that he doesn’t even know?” Her voice became louder as she tossed her mane angrily. “You honestly believe that this strange pony can go into the forest and come back alive, when nopony else ever has before?! That he’ll somehow overcome all the traps and Celestia knows what else to save your dad, and that they’ll just come waltzing up the street like nothing happened?!”

Her words finally trailed off as she stood staring at the wall, her eyes hot and her chest heaving; slowly, a blanket of pure guilt draped over the flames of her anger and worry, snuffing them out as she winced. That was exactly what I didn’t want to happen… she thought helplessly. Her shoulders slumped, and it was all she could do to keep from bolting from the room as self-revulsion filled her shaking frame to the brim. Listen to yourself, Cherry… yelling at your son for being hopeful… she chided herself. And you thought YOU were being strong for HIM…

Ever so slowly she took one last, deep breath before she gathered what few shreds of courage she had left and opened her mouth at last.

“C-Cinnamon…” she whispered, unable to keep the shame from her voice. “I… Mommy’s sorry. I didn’t mean to sound so angry…” Cherry turned and brought her eyes back to her son, but to her surprise, he wasn’t looking at her. In fact, he hadn’t turned away from the window at all; he had his hooves placed at the bottom of the windowsill, his face pressed against the glass as hard as he could, his eyes as wide as dinner plates. The mare frowned. “…Cinnamon? What is it?”

The colt turned his wide eyes away from the window and pointed down the street with a hoof.

“Um…” He turned his face back to the window, his voice full of awe. “I… I think you might want to see this, Mom…” His small hoof pressed against the glass again… and as Cherry watched, a tall brown stallion appeared in the window and pressed his own hoof against it, a broad smile on his face as he mirrored Cinnamon’s movement.

Cherry’s eyes widened in disbelief as her heart seemed to expand and fill her chest, welling up and driving all breath from her body. Her knees began to shake as Cinnamon leaped from his chair and hurried to the door; he threw it open and rushed outside, throwing himself at the stallion and tackling him to the ground. There was a loud oomf! from outside, followed by the sound of rich laughter.

“Whoa, easy there, son!” a warm, deep voice chuckled. Cherry’s eyes welled up with tears, even though she was certain she’d cried them all the night before. That’s Turnover… that’s him..! “Dad’s been through a bit of a rough night, you know.”

Cherry didn’t remember running to the door, but suddenly she was there, her entire body trembling as tears poured down her face. She stepped outside to see her son hugging her previously missing husband tightly around the neck. Turnover was muddy and messy, but he looked no worse for wear otherwise, and after a moment of staring, the spell of disbelief seemed to release its hold on Cherry; she sobbed aloud and threw herself at the stallion, landing atop him and wrapping her hooves around him as tightly as she could. She squeezed and squeezed him for all she was worth, her tears wetting his already dirty coat.

“Apple… y-you’re…” she sobbed. “Y-y-you’re here… y-you’re n-not-,”

Suddenly, his forelegs wrapped around her and pulled her close, his muzzle settling atop her mane.

“I’m here, Cherry,” he whispered hoarsely. “I’m here now… safe and sound.”

Somehow hearing him say it drove it home in her heart: he was back, and he was safe… he’d been returned to her. She pulled him close and buried her face into his coat, sobbing as relief flooded her body. He simply held her close, his chin atop her head as the anxiety and pain of the past day was washed away in the cleansing torrent of her tears.

She didn’t have any idea how long she’d cried, but by the time she felt she was done and lifted her head, other members of their community had taken notice. They had gathered around, their eyes curious as the Turnover family slowly sat up in the street, Cinnamon still clinging to Turnover’s neck as he rose to his hooves. Cherry wiped her eyes and rose next to him, her body pressed against her husband tightly.

“Turnover… is that you?” one pony in the crowd asked. “We thought you were a goner for sure!” The brown stallion smiled and shook his head slightly.

“Well, I won’t lie, it was touch-and-go for a while, but we managed to get out safely.”

“We?” another pony asked. “You mean…?”

“Yes- the other ponies who were kidnapped with me are also safe.” He nodded down the street. “Undoubtedly other ponies have realized that Moonflower and her daughter Melody have returned, as well, and are no doubt mobbing them with questions, too.” He grinned at his wife and nuzzled her happily once more. The crowd around them murmured excitedly until finally, Cinnamon spoke.

“Did the pony in the cloak save you, Dad?” he asked eagerly. “He said that he would save you- did he, Dad??”

The conversation around them stopped as Turnover smiled and nodded.

“Yes, son, he did. He came into the village where we were being held captive and saved us all.”

“Did you say the pony in the cloak?” somepony from the crowd asked. “You mean that pony who was here yesterday?”

Turnover nodded. “The very same.”

“Wow… he really did it…” Cinnamon muttered, his brown eyes wide; but after a moment his eyes narrowed, and he looked back to his father. “But… where is he, Dad?” he asked, glancing around the street. “Didn’t he come back with you?”

“No, son, he didn’t,” Turnover responded. “He told us to come into town without him.” Cinnamon opened his mouth to speak, but Turnover smiled and cut him off. “He told me to tell you that he always keeps his promises, and that you should remember what the two of you talked about.”

Atop his father’s back, Cinnamon slumped ever so slightly. “Oh… I… I didn’t even get to ask him his name…” he murmured woefully.

The brown stallion smiled broadly and bumped his son with his nose.

“This is what he wanted, son- he didn’t want reward or recognition, he just wanted us to be safe. But he did tell us his name, finally.” He looked out to the still-growing crowd around them and raised his voice. “The stallion who saved us: his name is Dark Star,” he said loudly. “And not only has he saved us from capture, he has freed our village from the clutches of fear… and delivered a traitor to us, as well.” He nodded solemnly. “His brave actions will never be forgotten in Clyde’s Dale.”

Cherry frowned. “A traitor..?” she asked quietly.

Turnover nodded, his face grim. “Yes, a traitor.” His eyes swept the crowd, and after a moment he spoke. “We need to go have a word with Downdraft. All of us.”

The crowd muttered in confusion, but as Turnover stepped through them and started off down the street they turned and followed him. As they walked, Cinnamon hugged his father close.

“Dark Star…” he repeated softly. He raised his eyes to the sky and smiled. “Thank you, Dark Star… wherever you are.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The water of the stream was cold and clear, but even as clean as it was it stung quite a bit as Dark Star levitated a thin stream of it against his wounds. He winced but continued washing the three long slashes along his right shoulder out, allowing the used water and partially dried blood to trickle down his leg and into the short grass along the bank of the stream. Trees rose sporadically around him, and birds were filling the air with their morning song as the sun rose higher in the sky. There was very little wind to speak of, but every so often bushes would rustle in the glade around him as he went about trying to make sure he wasn’t going to get an infection from his wounds. Even as he washed, however, his thoughts were turned inward.

That griffon was either a much better fighter than the last griffons I battled, or I’m starting to lose my touch… he thought, and as unfortunate as it was he was inclined to believe it was the latter. It had been a very long time since he’d had a duel, and a one-on-one fight was much different than fighting a large number of opponents all at once. He winced again as a particularly stubborn piece of dry blood came loose amid the focused deluge of water that his magic was bombarding his shoulder with. He rinsed the wounds a bit more until he was satisfied, then allowed the rest of the water to splash back into the stream. He levitated a few strips of cloth that he’d cut from the bottom of his cloak and wrapped them tightly around his wounds. I need to focus on my sword training, he thought as he tied the last knot and flexed his leg. I don’t want to be caught flat-hoofed like that again. He smirked slightly as he stood, testing his leg again. And here I thought I’d been keeping up well with it in my exile…

Off to his left, a small stand of bushes rustled.

Satisfied that he wasn’t going to collapse into a heap, Dark’s horn lit up and he swung his cloak over his back, clasping it at his throat but leaving the hood down; on his left side, he felt something thump against his leg, and he winced angrily. The amulet of Anger was there, hidden from sight but not from Dark’s mind. He had done everything he could magically to seal it away from himself, and it was thankfully much more docile than it had been when Wild Wings had wielded it; it was obvious to Dark that it had been given to Razorbeak recently, and that it had not had the time it required to fully bond to another soul and regain its full strength. My sealing magic isn’t the best, he thought as he adjusted his sword, but it’ll have to do until I can figure out a bit more about… everything.

The bushes off to his left rustled again, and this time Dark sighed in vexation.

“I know you’re there,” he called. “You are terrible at sneaking up on ponies.”

The bushes stopped rustling, and for a moment silence hung in the glade. Dark shook his head and turned to leave, but as soon as he did a pony exploded from the bushes and rushed towards him, her powder-blue coat dotted with mud and her platinum mane cluttered with leaves and twigs.

The mare charged him and stopped directly in his path, her body tense and her legs bent as if she were a jungle cat, prepared to pounce on her prey. Dark stopped reluctantly, his green eyes meeting Trixie’s lavender gaze as he arched an eyebrow at her.

“…yes?” he asked impatiently. “Is there something you need?”

Trixie stared at him, her eyes sweeping him from hooves to mane and back again, as if she were searching for something, anything to say to him. Finally, Dark let out another sigh and started to walk around her, only to have her leap back into his path. His eyes narrowed and he turned to go around her the other way, and again she hurried in front of him. The black unicorn’s teeth ground together, and his horn lit up bright blue. You’re going to get a very cold, very wet surprise if you keep this up, Trixie…

“Wait!” Trixie said finally, holding up a hoof as his magic flared. “Please, Dark Star… take Trixie with you.”

Dark’s magic went silent, and he arched an eyebrow at her yet again.

“Take you with me?” he repeated, and Trixie nodded vigorously.

“Yes! Take Trixie with you, and teach her how to use her magic!” Her violet eyes were fierce as she met his cool gaze. “Your magic was impressive in that village back there and… and Trixie has decided to give you the honor of being her instructor!” She stood up straight and raised her nose into the air importantly. “There are those who would kill to be given the chance you have, Dark Star- Trixie suggests you don’t squander it!”

Dark Star stared blankly at the mare for a long moment. …she has got to be kidding, he thought, but as the moment stretched into a minute and Trixie still hadn’t moved out of his way, he began to get the sinking feeling that she was not kidding. Oooh boy… He sighed once more and turned around without a word, turning his back to Trixie and starting the other direction.

He heard a gasp behind him, and then the pounding of hooves as Trixie again circled in front of him and placed herself squarely into his path.

“Please!” she said… and her tone of voice made Dark’s hooves pause in place. “Please, Dark Star…” she pleaded, her voice once again the strange mix of determination and desperation that he’d heard back in the village. “I… Trixie is begging you… train her…” She bowed her head miserably, her mane covering her face. “You saved Trixie’s life… y-you wouldn’t let her die. You said… you said that if you were given a second chance, then… then Trixie deserved one, as well.”

Dark drew himself up to his full height, his eyes cold. “I don’t enjoy watching ponies throw their lives away fruitlessly,” he growled. “Your death would have been pointless. And…” He sighed, and his voice softened slightly. “And I do believe that you deserve a second chance, Trixie. If I got one… there is nopony who doesn’t deserve one.”

“Then take Trixie with you,” she begged, taking a step towards him as she raised her eyes. “Teach Trixie how to use her magic, to really use it. Give her the second chance that you spoke of… please.”

The black unicorn smiled slightly and shook his head. “Trixie… whatever you did… you do not need to come with me on this journey. My crime… requires a heavy penalty. My path will be hard, and it will be dangerous.” His eyes met hers once more, and this time they were hard. “I seek true redemption… something that you can’t possibly understand.”

To his surprise, Trixie met his gaze evenly. “Then show Trixie,” she said simply.

Dark blinked at her, and almost spat a refusal at her point blank… but even as the words rose to the tip of his tongue he recalled the strange flash of magic that had happened between them in the shack when he had rescued her- the unusual surge of strong magic that shouldn’t have been able to happen, and yet it had…

He shifted on his hooves, and he felt the amulet of Anger bounce against his leg again. Maybe… maybe it’s time to get some kind of backup, after all…

“…Who was responsible for that shield spell back in the village?” he asked suddenly. Trixie blinked, and he took a half-step forward. “When I used that lightning spell, you and Moonflower were holding a shield spell between you. Who was responsible for that?”

Trixie watched him closely for a moment, then blushed ever so slightly.

“Trixie was… she felt your spell building, but she wasn’t… she wasn’t strong enough to hold the shield on her own… the white unicorn helped her hold it after she’d cast it.”

“I see.” Dark watched her closely, then nodded. “All right. You can come with me… but on one condition.”

Trixie’s eyes lit up, and she bounced on her hooves excitedly. “Name it!”

“No more of this speaking in third-pony. Ever.”

“What?!” Trixie’s bouncing stopped almost as quickly as it had come, her eyes full of outrage. “Give it UP?! The Great and Powerful Trixie has NEVER given up her manner of speaking for ANYpony!”

Dark Star’s eyes were flat and cool as he stared at her, and after a moment he arched an eyebrow.

Trixie winced and sighed. “But she… but I suppose that… certain sacrifices must be made…” she muttered, her head drooping slightly. Dark smiled and patted Trixie on the shoulder.

“See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“More than you know…” she muttered, her ears laying flat against her head.

The dark unicorn snickered slightly, but turned around and headed the other direction; after a moment, Trixie hurried to catch up with him, her head held high.

“So… where are we headed?” she asked. Dark Star shook his head.

“I’m not sure,” he answered simply. “Hopefully, wherever somepony needs help… somewhere that I can continue my journey towards being… forgiven.” He glanced at Trixie and smirked. “…we’re going to have to get you a cloak, I think. So you fit in with the group.”

To his surprise, Trixie giggled with delight. “That suits me just fine, Dark Star… juuuust fine.”

Together, the two unicorns made their way to the road that led away from Clyde’s Dale and turned south once more; their paths were joined for now, even if they knew not where said paths would take them. But neither cared at that time- they knew only that fate had brought them together, and that to deny that pull would be unwise, to say the least.

Years and years later, citizens of Clyde’s Dale still told stories of the strange black stallion clad in a black cloak who had arrived in their darkest hour to deliver them from the hooves of their enemies- a stallion tall and brave who had risked his own life to save those he didn’t even know. Dark Star never returned to Clyde’s Dale, but if he had, he would have seen a statue erected in the center of their town: a statue of a tall unicorn stallion in a cloak, his eyes full of confidence as he stared defiantly towards the forest, daring any creature to challenge him.

No creature ever did.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~
THE END
~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Epilogue

The smell of tallow candles filled the air of the room, their wispy smoke gathering in the uppermost corners and causing them to appear slightly foggy in the low light. The walls were lined with shelf upon shelf of strange items- daggers, crystals, vials and beakers of every shape, size and function filled the shelves and threatened to pour out into the rest of the room. The walls were stone, smooth and unblemished, as if the room had been sliced from the center of a mountain by a red-hot blade and simply left there. In the center of the large room was a collection of tables, each filled with its own assortment of oddments; yet more vials and beakers sat filled with various colored liquids, some bubbling away above small flames as their contents were heated. Books were strewn about, all open to one page or another, and along one table three crystals sat, three that were different from the rest. These were almost the size of a pony’s head and cut with so many facets that it was almost difficult for the eye to focus on them as the flames of the candles around them flickered and danced.

And off to the side of the tables, a pony was suspended by his hooves from the ceiling.

“Oh, my simple, simple Downdraft,” a voice said; the voice was deep and melodious, and would have been called soothing… if not for the subtle, ever-present edge that pervaded it. “You had one very simple task to complete, didn’t you…?”

The stallion suspended from the ceiling struggled against the ropes that bound his hooves together; he tried to flap his wings, but they were restrained as well, tied with ropes and pulled taut towards the ground, extending them uselessly.

“I-I did exactly as you instructed Master!” shrieked Downdraft, his formerly strong voice cracking with fear. “I-I-I kept everypony in that town from going into the forest, just as you instructed!”

A unicorn stepped around the tables, his orange eyes locked on Downdraft.

“Did you?” he asked, tossing his white mane over his shoulder. “Well, perhaps you did for a while… but then you went and let one stallion through…” He smiled, but there was nothing warm in it; instead, it was everything cold and evil. “…didn’t you, Downdraft.” It was not a question.

Downdraft’s eyes went wide, and he resumed struggling against his bonds.

“H-he was just one pony, Master! I had no idea that he would be able to defeat Razorbeak! Please, have mercy!!” he pleaded, but the dark purple unicorn stepped ever closer to him.

“Ah yes, poor Razorbeak.” The unicorn pouted slightly. “It’s a shame that he had to die so soon… I had such grand plans for him…” He turned his gaze to the three unique crystals on the table, and the crystal farthest to the left shimmered; the facets gleamed, and something shifted inside it- something wispy and ethereal that slowly coalesced into the half-transparent shape of a dark colored griffon with sad golden eyes. The unicorn shrugged. “But no matter- he shall serve his purpose, never the less.” He turned his eyes back to Downdraft as his horn ignited with magic, filling the room with flame-orange brightness. “YOU, however, have failed at your purpose, Downdraft; and pieces of a machine that no longer work must be removed and replaced.” There was a gentle scraping sound from the table next to the unicorn. “And since I can’t have you simply running around loose…” Downdraft squirmed harder against the ropes.

“Please, Master Blight Heart, I beg you! Mercy! G-give me another chance! Please!!”

The unicorn lifted a long, straight knife from the table and looked at it thoughtfully.

“It’s a shame, really. Unicorn blood is very useful to me in casting my spells, but your pitiful Pegasus blood isn’t strong enough to be of any use to me at all.”

Downdraft blinked. “Does… does that mean you’ll spare me?”

Blight Heart the unicorn met Downdraft’s eyes, and his smile curved hungrily.

“Oh no… it just means that I’ll be killing you for fun.”

The knife flicked from where it was hovering before Blight Heart and settled against Downdraft’s left side, between his wing and his shoulder. Blight Heart’s eyes widened eagerly as his magic pressed the knife against the Pegasus’ coat.

“…let’s see what you’ve got inside you… shall we?”

Downdraft opened his mouth to beg once more, but before he could speak the knife plunged in. The room was filled with a horrible gurgling sound, accompanied by the frantic scraping of metal against bone and the sound of blood spattering on stone.

Blight Heart’s eyes were bright with malice as he lifted a hoof and touched a stone that hung around his throat; a stone that was as black as the night, set into a silver backing. He stroked it slowly as his knife worked methodically in his telekinetic grip.

“Don’t worry, Downdraft,” he whispered almost lovingly. “I’m sure that you wouldn’t have done anything good with your life, anyway… you’re better off dead.”

On the table, the crystal to the left shifted again; the griffon inside it seemed to cringe and look away from the horrible scene before him, and slowly the crystal went dark once more.

I fear him more in death than I do in life…