The Book of Water: The Marriage of the Slave King

by TalonMach5

Rating: teen
Tags: Tragedy, Princess Celestia, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Alternate Universe, Human, Romance, Princess Luna, Drama, Original Character, King Sombra, Adventure
Length: 234892

Book two of four, in the Great Slave King saga. An anthology of Equestria's history

It has been nearly five hundred years since the events chronicled in the Book of Earth: The Great Slave King transpired. Since then, the man made a god has been busy trying to introduce the technology from the land of his birth to the magical realm of Equestria. As the years passed, the Lord of Earth, no longer a godling, has grown into his powers and has become a force to be reckoned with. Under the tutelage of the Ladies of Air and Summer, he has become as great as any of the other Prime Elemental deities.

With the assistance of his servants, Scourge the Hunter, founder and master of the Order of the Shadow; Arch Duke Fifi le Yipyap, once the Slave King's master now turned slave, and regent of the Domain of Earth; and Nightmare, the Slave King's first creation and constant companion, he has turned the wild and untamed lands of his realm into a wealthy and prosperous nation.

Now approaching his five hundredth year as the Lord of Earth, the Slave King is about to meet the greatest threat he has ever faced. Once again, the Slave King must stand alone against a unified pantheon plotting his downfall and eventual reenslavement. When presented with the pantheon's final ultimatum, will he stand his ground and fight, capitulate to their many demands, or twist their schemes against them?

Look inside and see gentlereader.

Book two of four, book one can be found at The Great Slave King
Part two can be found at The Book of Water: The Heart of Winter

TV Tropes Page: The Great Slave King: Special thanks goes to gentlereader Abstract Indigo

True cover art is forthcoming.

Published 2012-12-01 23:30:01 UTC
Last updated 2013-12-01 19:13:33 UTC

Chapter 1: The Assault on Bone's Landing

The Book of Water: The Marriage of the Slave King

A Story by TalonMach5

Chapter 1: The Assault on Bone's Landing

We diamond dogs are the only true children of the Earth. We saved Equestria. We drove out Lord Ouroboros. We built up Neo Vale. The hounds deserve respect, respect and obedience. We know what is best for the Domain of Earth. Reclaiming what was ours, living space, expanding our territory, and slaves. I know what must be done. The ponies, they look down their perfumed muzzles at all hounds, and they hate us. I’m going to give them a reason for hate when I’ve crushed them. Arcanum weapons, that’s the answer. Arcanum weapons in a diamond dog fist! And what of the other great Earth clans? The minotaurs? Trash! They have no respect for proper diamond dog ways. For us! The beastmen tribes are nothing but mongrels, with the tainted blood of the other lesser races coursing through their veins. We diamond dogs must lead the Earth…

- Master Second, The Heresies of Second the Doomhound

The sun shone brightly over the green field below him. Truly this was an excellent choice. He would have to give the soldier who selected the site an accommodation. Looking down at his assembled troops, he nodded once before drawing from the power of the Earth. Up from the ground rose an ornate stone throne, which he sat down on.

“Has the garrison commander given us his answer?” he asked the woman attending to him.

The woman was unique in many ways, as a member of the feathered folk race she carried traits of both her human and phoenix lineage. She wasn’t quite as tall as her lord, but as she stood on two legs she was still considered quite tall. Compared to the majority of other sentient creatures, most of which were quadrupeds she might even be considered a giant. Only the dragons were larger. Though she appeared human in most respects, the wings attached to her shoulders and the black feathers covering her body revealed her lineage to even the casual observer.

The young woman looked down from the scroll she was reading, before blowing a few of the black feathers that stubbornly refused to stay in place away from her face. Tapping her hand against the scroll a few times, she sighed. Looking at him she narrowed her emerald eyes in annoyance. “Forgive me my king,” she said, through clenched teeth, “but my sister has yet to return from the city.”

The king stroked his greying beard and offered the girl a small smile. “Harmony,” he said, “you shouldn’t frown so much, you’ll end up with wrinkles.”

“You sound just like mother,” Harmony replied.

“Well Lady Suzaku certainly knows a thing or two about beauty,” he said.

At the mention of her mother’s name, Harmony the Black scowled. Always with her she was never good enough. Her sister’s always received the praise, and she was always admonished to be more like them.

“Yoo hoo!” shouted a bubbly and melodic voice, making Harmony look up towards the sky. She could see the brightly colored yellow plumage of her sister Melody the Yellow as she landed. “I have it!”

“It’s about time…” Harmony muttered under her breath.

“What is their answer?” the Slave King asked, thrumming his fingers against the stone armrests of his throne.

“They said that the port of Bone’s Landing has been in the possession of the Domain of Water for over eight hundred years, and they refuse to surrender it to a bunch of mudslingers,” Melody said, handing a scroll to Harmony. “Those fish faces made a mistake refusing King Daddy, he’s gonna grind them into dust!”

“What did I tell you about calling the Slave King that?” Harmony admonished her sister.

The Slave King growled low when he heard the cities answer, not paying attention to the squabbling sisters he created an earthen ring. From the earth inside it, the large shape of an iron clad doomhound appeared.

“Slave King what is your command?” the armored beast asked.

“Scourge,” the Slave King replied, “it looks like the good people of Bone’s Landing have decided to fight it out. It looks like I lost our little bet.”

Scourge released a deep laugh, “Yes my king,” he said, “but fear not, victory will soon be yours, and what was once the Earth’s, will be the Earth’s once more.”

“Along with the trade routes as well, no doubt?” the Slave King said with a wry smile.

"Most assuredly, my king,” Scourge replied, his spectral blue eyes glowing with a hunger for battle. “Lord Triton won’t know what hit him.”

“I expect you’ll be placing the initiates at the front?” the Slave King asked.

“Well I was planning on holding them in reserve,” Scourge replied sheepishly.

“Scourge…” the Slave King said, showing his displeasure. “And why is that?”

“Lady Zephyr’s son has pledged himself to the battle,” Scourge replied, looking away from his king. “I didn’t think it would be proper to send him in the first wave.”

“Does his mother know he’s here?” the Slave King asked.

“I don’t think so,” Scourge said. “Besides, do you think she would let him fight as an anonymous foot soldier?”

“Good point,” the Slave King said, “assign him to guard the baggage train with the Shadow Hooves. I’ll see to him once the battle is over.”

“As you wish my king,” Scourge said, before his image lost cohesion and crumbled back into the earth.

Turning towards Harmony, the Slave King motioned for her to draw close. “Harmony take a message,” he said.

“Yes, my king,” Harmony replied. “Who does it need to go to?”

“Lady Zephyr,” the Slave King replied. “Tell her I have her son.”

“Ohhhh, busted!” Melody said with a mischievous smile, before shutting up when she saw the angry look her younger sister gave her.

*****

Scourge looked over at the assembled host of diamond dogs, minotaurs, ponies, griffins, dragons, and even a few beastfolk. “Today we stand against the renowned knights of Triton the Lawgiver,” he rumbled. “Oh how the mighty have fallen! See how they tremble in fear behind their walls and moats, but their walls will not save them, their moats will not save them. So much for their much heralded courage, much heralded by them that is. The so called noble members of the ‘Most illustrious Order of Triton the Lawgiver’ speak so highly of their honor, but where was their honor when they took what was ours?”

Pausing a moment to allow his words to take hold in his force’s hearts, Scourge turned to look towards the Western Sea. “These proud warriors of the Lawgiver think themselves to be our superiors,” he continued, “I think they are corpses looking for a grave. Now these defenders may outnumber us, but we are the stronger in this battle. Our forces are better equipped, better trained, and fight for a greater cause. Now take fresh courage and remember this above all else, the Slave King is watching. Make sure he is not ashamed!”

Once Scourge had finished speaking, the entirety of the Slave King’s army released a mighty shout, as they clashed their weapons against their shields and armor. Looking over his war host, the doomhound smiled as he took his place at the front of a unit of minotaurs.

However in the back of the army by the baggage train, one soldier a rare griffin-half was rather unhappy. “This is such a crock,” he grumbled, unhappy that he was going to end up missing all the action.

“This is still an important job,” a white pegasus said. “Besides, even if we don’t see any combat this will still count towards our ten.”

The ten, or the ten labors as they were known to the slaves of the Domain of Earth, were the ticket to freedom. Any slave who faithfully served for ten labors, which could be anything the central government required, would receive their freedom and even the chance to wear the Slave King’s brand if they distinguished themselves. It was the dream of most slaves to gain the brand, for all those fortunate enough to do so would gain wealth and power beyond mortal reckoning.

The griffin-half narrowed his brown eyes in disgust at the pegasus’s cowardice. “Pony, you might be happy to die a nofeather,” he said, turning to look towards the battle that had just commenced, “but one day, I’ll take Scourge’s place as the head of the ‘Order of the Shadow’.”

“Ha!” the pegasus replied, narrowing his blue eyes in challenge. “That will be the day. The Pit will freeze over first, before they let a half breed join their ranks, let alone run the entire order.”

“What did you just call me?” the griffin-half demanded, gripping his weapon tightly with his talons and stepping towards the pegasus menacingly.

“I called you a half breed,” the pegasus sneered, shaking his fluffy yellow mane in challenge. “You’re just the forgotten child of one of those wayfarer deviants.”

“I’ll rip you to pieces!” Dawson screamed, before feeling the sharp sting of a whip against his back, narrowly missing his large wings.

“What the hades, do you two calves think you’re doing?” Their grizzled old minotaur Sergeant Copper Hoof bellowed. “If we weren’t in the middle of a battle I’d have the both of you strung up to receive a ration. If I get any more trouble from either of you, I’ll administer it myself.”

Receiving a ration was the slang for receiving ten lashes. It was once widely believed that without receiving their daily ration of lashes, slaves would become uncooperative and belligerent. But fortunately for the slaves of the Domain of Earth, the practice of beating a slave daily had been for the most part stopped by the Slave King. However in the army, the standard punishment for dereliction of duty was ten lashes, and was still known by the colloquial term receiving a ration.

When they heard their sergeant threatening them with the whip, they silently nodded their agreement to behave and resumed guarding their posts.

When Dawson thought about how close he had come to getting a ration, he wanted to string himself up. The Slave King would never take him seriously, if it was on his record that he had received a ration.

“Hey, I’m sorry about what I said,” the pegasus apologized, stretching out his hoof. “It’s just when you said I’ll die a nopony, it made me angry.”

“Yeah, that was out of line,” Dawson said penitently, shaking the offered hoof with his hand, “I shouldn’t have said it.”

“I’m Bucky by the way,” the pegasus said, formally introducing himself.

“You can call me Dawson,” the griffin-half replied. “So I take it that you’re a slave then?”

“Yes,” Bucky replied. “My folks were sold into slavery by a bunch of unicorn nobles, when they couldn’t pay their debts. But it’s not so bad, I get treated fair and my ten is almost complete. How about yourself?”

“I pledged myself for this battle in hopes of distinguishing myself,” Dawson explained, “my father won’t acknowledge me, and I hope by making a name for myself he might change his mind.”

“So was your father a wayfarer?” Bucky asked.

A wayfarer was the term Equestrians had given to the Slave King’s human kin that would pop up from time to time. While not as common as the beastfolk, they were still a relative rarity. But as the beastfolk tribe’s numbers swelled over the years, it was rumored that wayfarers were the ones responsible. As a result, most wayfarers found themselves unwelcome throughout most of Equestria.

“Yeah, something like that,” Dawson replied, looking towards the far off hill the Slave King was watching the battle’s progression from.

“So, I’ve never met a griffin-half before,” Bucky said, inspecting the black and blue wings on Dawson’s back.

“That makes two of us,” Dawson replied. “I don’t think there are any others.”

“So do you live in the Beastmen’s Enclave?” Bucky asked.

“No,” Dawson replied, never taking his eyes away from the Slave King. “I’m originally from the Golden Eyrie up north.”

“So what’s it like there?” Bucky asked inquisitively. “Once I finish up my ten, I plan on seeing all of Equestria.”

“Really mountainous and windy,” Dawson replied, trying to think about what might happen if his mother discovered where he was. “But if you try visiting the Domain of Air, a word of warning. Griffins are pretty territorial, and consider ponies just a step above lunch.”

“I’m not afraid,” Bucky boasted. “After spending five years in the Domain of Earth, I’m sure visiting the griffins will be a cake walk. Besides…”

Before Bucky could finish, he stopped as his right ear twitched a few times, then he backed away from the baggage train looking around him cautiously.

“What’s going on?” Dawson asked Bucky, confused why he was acting so strangely.

“Dawson, watch out!” Bucky warned. “Step away from the baggage train.”

“Why?” Dawson asked, as he felt the feathers on the back of his neck rising.

“Because of that,” Bucky replied, pointing towards a tiny dark object flying overhead.

Looking skyward, Dawson’s brown eyes dilated as he was nearly blinded by the sun, and couldn’t quite tell what the object was. Instinctively he knew it was some form of magic, and prepared himself to defend the baggage train. Unfurling his wings, he launched himself into the air with his spear pointed forward. Looking to his left, he was surprised to see Bucky by his side. The pegasus flashed the griffin-half a grin, before racing on ahead towards their unknown attacker flying above them.

Suddenly, Dawson felt himself being knocked violently to the side. Growling in anger, he looked around trying to discover who had shoved him when he felt a freezing icicle barely miss him skewering him, grazing his leg instead. Looking to his left, he saw Bucky give him a small wave as he broke formation and veered to the left towards their opponent. Thinking back to the ice that barely missed him, he knew it could only be a reindeer battlemage.

Dawson cursed himself for being so careless and nearly getting impaled before he could make a name for himself. Looking above him, he was amazed when he saw Bucky effortlessly dodging all of the reindeer’s magical attacks. Seeing how the battlemage was currently distracted by the pegasus, Dawson knew he wouldn’t get a better chance to get the drop on their opponent. Trusting Bucky to keep the white furred reindeer distracted for a bit longer, he caught a thermal updraft until he was above the pesky mage. With the sun at his back he tucked in his wings as he dove down to ambush his unsuspecting opponent.

*****

Gunhilde was feeling rather annoyed, her opponent was one tricky little faen. Currently the pegasus was effortlessly dodging everything she was throwing at it. Not even her most potent spells seemed to land on their target. Suffice it to say, the reindeer battlemage was feeling rather vexed about the whole situation. As her pegasus foe weaved past her latest barrage of freezing ice, she watched him dive inside a nearby cloud for cover.

“Tsch faen, I have you now!” Gunhilde growled, charging up her rune etched antlers to flash freeze anything inside that cloud into a block of solid ice. Before she could release the magic stored in her antlers she was hit from above by something big and heavy. Noticing the black and blue wings of her assailant, she narrowed her purple eyes in anger when she realized it must have been that griffin-half. Cursing herself for falling for the trap, she tried using the magic stored in her antlers to free herself as they fell towards the earth.

“Reindeer, I don’t think so,” Dawson menacingly said, roughly grabbing a hold of both of Gunhilde’s magically charged antlers.

Just as with electrically charged items, handling magically charged objects must be taken with extreme caution. Magic in its charged state waits to be either released in the form of a spell, or the chance to form a complete circuit with a non-magically charged object. Due to the feedback to both caster and the poor soul that ends up completing the circuit, it’s advised to never touch magically charged horns or antlers without proper protection.

Dawson, who had never paid much attention to the magic tutors that his mother insisted he study under, was unaware of this as he reached out with his bare talons to grab the doe’s glowing antlers. Meanwhile, Gunhilde prepared herself to create an ice shield around her in hopes of knocking her assailant off her back so she could finish him off. Before she had the chance to release the spell, the griffin-half on her back grabbed her antlers and completed the magical circuit.

Both Gunhilde and Dawson screamed in pain as the magical spell potential was unleashed, knocking both of them unconscious.

*****

So far the game seemed to favor him. Looking his opponent directly in her turquoise eyes he attempted ferreting out her current stratagem. The pieces he had strategically placed were in their optimum positions. The defenses he had painstakingly setup provided his pieces with cover, and he had pieces set aside to route his opponent when she inevitably would make her fatal error.

The board set before was one that had been made with care and precision, where most would play on a plain board this one had detailed geographical features. Everything from the fields and forests, to the rivers and roads were detailed to look as close to the real thing as possible. The centerpiece of the board was the castle. Everything about it had been as built to scale. Even the drawbridge and gates open and closed, if ever tiny creatures wished to withstand a siege this board would be perfect for their needs.

I move my seapony archers to my northwest tower and battlements,” he announced, confident in his ability to counter her next move as he levitated the silver and sapphire encrusted pieces to their new location atop the tower.

“Rimefrost, moving thy archers to reinforce thy battlement was a bold move,” the dark mare more beautiful than the evening sky said. “But the move shall cost thee control of the southern gates. Additionally our phoenix’s and feathered folk shall most assuredly deprive thee of thy archers shortly.”

When he heard the mention of the feathered folk he looked darkly at the gold and amethyst pieces representing them on the board. Everything they represented was a burning reminder to how he had been wronged by that craven malformed monster. When he thought about how that degenerate beast took her virtue, his fiery temper made his blood boil.

“Rimefrost, we hast just taken thy gate and blockhouse,” she said with a teasing smile. “How shalt thou respond?”

Looking at her smile made him remember happier days, back when she had been his consort and he hers. He wondered had she ever smiled like that at the beast that had so vulgarly defiled her.

Noticing his scowling demeanor, the lady of the night leaned down towards him and tilted her head disapprovingly. “Rimefrost,” she chided to him, “tis poor sportsmanship to pout because thou art losing.”

“My lady,” he growled in annoyance, moving some gold and emerald pieces forward. “I am neither pouting, nor am I losing as you shall soon see. I move my dragons out of hiding to ambush your diamond dog and pony knights.”

“Rimefrost, we sense something is on thy mind,” she said, looking at him with concern on her muzzle. “Usually, thou playest the game with more finesse. Our phoenix’s and feathered folk take thy northwest tower and battlements.”

Seeing how quickly the board had shifted in her favor, he pawed at the ground with his hoof as he shook his antlers in aggravation. He would not lose to her, and he would not lose to that perverse animal. “My lady,” he said, moving forward some silver and ruby pieces. “I counter with my reindeer battlemages.”

“Art thou quite sure,” she replied, studying the board intently. “That wouldst leave the heart of thy keep ripe for plucking. Very well, we send forth our griffin skirmishers into thy outer courtyard.”

He wanted to scream with frustration, she was running roughshod over him this game. The feeling of impotence he was feeling about his imminent defeat was now nearly as great as how he felt during their betrayal towards him. Everydeer, all of his friends, and even she, had turned their backs on him when he had needed them the most. Looking back, he could understand why they had done what they had done. He could almost even forgive even Lord Triton’s great betrayal. But hers was beyond the pale. He could almost understand the marriage, considering it was a matter of political convenience. But to side with that monster over him, the one who had loved her once was unforgivable.

Knowing he had to risk everything in order to win, he decided to try running over her heavily guarded camp with a full frontal charge. It was a costly gambit, but if successful would win him the game before she could capture the heart of his fortress’s keep. “I’m charging towards your camp my lady with my kirins, seapony knights, and what’s left of my battlemages,” he said, pushing the pieces forward towards the center of the battlefield.

“Rimefrost,” she said with a predatory smile, “surely such a bold move on thy part is the sign of a desperate stallion. Pray tell, why woulds’t thou leave thyself unguarded otherwise?”

“My lady,” he replied with a hint of venom in his voice, “I believe you have left your camp unguarded. I think your general will surrender to me.”

“Nay Rimefrost, it will be thou that wilt surrender to us,” she replied, with a victorious smile. “We art always prepared, my serpent reveals my dragon-halfs and wayfarers.”

When he saw that not only had she beaten him badly, but with those pieces in particular, it sent him over the edge. “My lady,” he snarled, “you just had to use them didn’t you? I told you before we started playing I’d prefer playing with only the traditional pieces. But you just had to include them.”

She was shocked by his sudden outburst, and wasn’t quite sure why he was so upset. Did winning the game mean so much to him? “Dear Cerynitis,” she asked, with hurt in her eyes, “why art thou so wrathful towards us. Forgive us, if losing the game was such a mighty blow to thy pride and honor.”

Cerynitis looked towards her and instantly felt regret, when he saw how distressed she looked. Her beautiful brow instead of radiating beauty was now marred by sorrow and melancholy. “My darling Luna,” he said, bowing his head so low that his gilded antlers were touching the ground. “Forgive me for my untoward behavior. Nodeer, least of all you, should have been subjected to such callousness.”

Placated by his apology, Luna lowered her horn to touch his antlers. “Rise Lord Cerynitis,” she said, with a voice both gentle and kind, “tis not seemly that a lord as great as thee should scrape and bow.”

Lord Cerynitis raised his head up and saw Princess Luna smiling at him. Looking at her warm smile brought back a flood of memories, back to when they were together. Oh what a time that was, when the world was new and they were still young. Before she had let the beast touch her, and had his way with her. Thinking of the foul abomination his realm was forced to share a border with, was enough to make him unleash a hundred years of winter!

Seeing Lord Cerynitis scowling once more, made Princess Luna feel both concerned and confused. Certainly something was definitely bothering him, she was sure of it now. Losing a game so easily was one thing, but this current behavior was something else entirely. He was almost like a demon possessed. Perhaps Discord had broken free from his prison once more and was up to his old tricks once again!

Deciding that she needed to confront her former lover about his behavior, Princess Luna decided to ask him plainly. “Lord Cerynitis,” she asked him, radiating both calm and authority, “what troubles thee so. As much as we enjoy our fortnightly games, we shan’t allow thee to return if thou continueth to act so boorishly. If something ails thee, tell us so we might offer thee respite from thy grievous wounds.”

When he heard Princess Luna utter those words, his heart leapt for joy. She still loved him more than the monster! Before he could lay bare his conflicted emotions to her, she continued.”

“Lord Cerynitis,” she said, touching her horn to his antlers once more, “we art thy friend. And hope that thou wilt attend the Slave King’s inauguration with us…”

When he heard Princess Luna mention the Slave King, the moon became dark in his eyes. How dare that harlot come crawling back to the monster, like some wanton trollop! “To the pit with the Slave King,” he hatefully spat, leveling his antlers towards her threateningly, “and may he take you there to rot with him!”

Princess Luna’s eyes threatened to tear up when she heard Lord Cerynitis’s hateful response. She considered him one of her dearest friends. They had even shared love once, but now his heart was as cold towards her as the wintery domain he oversaw. With a hurting heart, and eyes that stung with bitter tears, she turned her back to him. “Lord Cerynitis,” she said, desperately trying not to cry. “We demand that thou taketh thy leave from us and never return to us again.”

“My lady, forgive me please!” Lord Cerynitis cried out in desperation, realizing his terrible mistake too late.

Princess Luna however, was of no mind to listen to his words as the stinging tears of Lord Cerynitis’s betrayal stained her face. “Guards,” she said with steel in her voice. Minutes later two of her Twilight Knights entered her chambers. “Lord Cerynitis is leaving now. Please escort him out of the palace.”

Whether the Twilight Knights noticed her tears or not, their steely looks didn’t betray their thoughts. “Lord Cerynitis,” the first knight sternly said, “come with us please.”

“Luna, I didn’t mean it…” Lord Cerynitis stammered. “Please, don’t send me away.”

“Please, leave us,” Princess Luna replied, unwilling to accept his apology.

“Princess Luna requested you leave her,” the second knight said, in a tone that said, ‘I don’t care if you rule the winter. If you don’t leave willingly, I will kick your flank out of the palace’.

Lord Cerynitis had enough power to crush the Twilight Knights a thousand times over, but currently was too distraught to put up a fight and sighed once before following the Twilight Knights out of Princess Luna’s private chambers. Before he left, he cast one last longing look at her as he exited the room.

*****

The battle was progressing nicely, Scourge wanted to snicker when a group of three seapony mages tried drowning him with their water based magic attacks. Digging his claws into the cobblestones that lay beneath his iron shod paws, he waited for their magical assault to cease so he could return the favor. He flashed the three surprised seaponies a malevolent smile, showing off his razor sharp teeth before charging the thick wall they were using for cover. The heavy metal plates covering him impacted with wall easily braking through it, sending debris flying every which way and knocking the poor seaponies to the side.

“Come on you mongrels!” Scourge shouted to the soldiers behind him, displeased that they weren’t rushing through the opening immediately. “Are you waiting for an engraved invitation? The last one through this gap gets a ration from me personally!”

Hearing his threat sent the unit of minotaurs he was leading into a frenzy of activity, as they rushed through the impromptu entrance he had made. Scourge smiled, pleased with how eager his bulls were to enter combat. His thoughts were interrupted when he felt the impact of several large icicles smashing against his armored back. Slowly turning around he saw several reindeer battlemages floating overhead, preparing to launch another volley of spells at him.

Scowling at the out of reach reindeer flying overhead, Scourge flashed his ethereal blue eyes defiantly at them as he pounded the earth hard with his heavy right front paw. The earth in front of him fractured and cracked as stones shot up out of the ground towards his attackers. He scowled when he saw his first attack missed its intended target. Roaring defiantly at the reindeer flying overhead, he prepared to launch another volley when he found he couldn’t move his legs.

Looking down at his armored paws, he saw they were encased in ice that was rapidly working its way up his body. Try as he might, Scourge found he was unable to break free from the ice that was quickly entombing him. The last thing he saw before he was completely covered in ice was the looks of triumph on the battlemage’s muzzles. As his vision faded, he muttered, “My king…”

*****

Magnus looked down at the block of ice that only moments previously had been one of the most feared mortal warriors in Equestria and gloated. “See Jarl, Scourge wasn’t so tough,” he said to his companion, spitting on the block of ice in contempt. “Without the doomhound to goad them on, the rest of the invaders will be easy enough to repel.”

“Magnus don’t!” Jarl cried out, frightened that Magnus was tempting fate by insulting the powerful Scourge even in death. “The faen might still get his revenge on you.”

Magnus snorted contemptibly at his companion’s cowardice. What had they to fear now? The dread doomhound was dead, and he Magnus, son of Nil had slain him. “Jarl, why fear the beast?” he asked. “Scourge, much like the rest of the Slave King’s forces, only play at war. The rest will fall just as easily.”

“Magnus, I’ve heard tales of this Scourge” Jarl fearfully said, “let’s leave and rejoin the battle.”

“And leave my trophy for somedeer else to claim, never!” Magnus replied, incensed that he should be denied his prize. Then lifting his leg, he urinated on the ice encasing Scourge as a final insult. “See Jarl, nothing to fear now that the great Scourge is dead.”

However, Jarl said nothing. Concerned as to why his companion was failing to respond, Magnus turned around, trotted towards him, and knocked him hard on the head with his antlers. When his antlers made contact with Jarl’s body, hairline fractures appeared where his antlers had struck him.

In disbelief, Magnus recoiled in horror at what had just happened. When Jarl refused to move or respond, he pushed him hard with his hoof. Jarl tipped over and fell hard against the cobblestones, shattering into tiny pieces.

“Magnus, perhaps you should have listened to Jarl after all,” a deep guttural voice said.

In fear, Magnus looked around and saw nothing. “Show yourself!” he demanded, lowering his horns and preparing to defend himself from his hidden assailant.

“I might have let you live,” the voice hissed into his right ear. “But you had to be so disrespectful.”

“Die, you faen!” Magnus cried out, releasing his magic in all directions.

“I already have,” the voice mockingly replied.

“Who are you?” Magnus said, exhausted and afraid.

“Your end,” the voice answered.

Before Magnus could respond, a shimmering doomhound consisting of blue energy jumped out of a nearby wall with its jaws wide open at him. Terrified, he couldn’t even blink before the apparition passed right through him. He felt a chill, cold as death overcome him.

“Faen, you missed! I’m still here,” Magnus boasted.

In response, an unearthly and guttural laugh filled his ears. Magnus desperate to get away, tried flying away but found his feet were stuck fast to the ground. Looking down at his feet to see what was keeping him earthbound, he saw to his horror he was slowly turning to stone. The last thing Magnus heard before his petrification was complete, were the haunting words, “Tell Jarl, Scourge sends his regards when you see him in the Summerlands.”

*****

Scourge stood in front the statue of Magnus and the block of ice encasing his armor, when he heard somehound approaching him from behind. “Second, how goes the battle?” he said without bothering to look behind.

“Scourge, it would seem the battle goes better for me then yourself,” Second derisively replied. “I see you’ve managed to incapacitate yourself once again.”

“Help me free my armor,” Scourge said, looking towards his subordinate.

“Oh does the mighty Scourge require assistance?” Second jeered, pulling back his lips into sneer.

“Second, that’s an order!” Scourge commanded, in no mood to deal with insubordination.

“Scourge, I’m afraid that I can’t assist you,” Second said insincerely, as he headed to leave. Turning to look back at Scourge’s ghostly apparition he laughed. “I have my own tasks to attend to.”

“Second, get back here!” Scourge demanded. But he was nowhere to be seen. Laying his ghostly ears back he sighed, cursing the day he ever made Second a doomhound.

“Master Scourge, is that you?” a feminine voice asked.

Looking up, Scourge saw a beautiful sight. Aria the Red flying overhead, accompanied by several wings of griffins and pegasi each wearing the Slave King’s brand. Aria tucked in her wings and gracefully landed before Scourge’s spectral form.

“Master Scourge, whatever happened to your armor?” Aria asked the doomhound.

“I was caught unawares by some of Lord Cerynitis’s battlemages,” Scourge said, gesturing towards the block of ice behind him.

“It’s a good thing you can’t be killed,” Aria said, drawing upon the latent magic that flowed through her feathers. “Or I would have grieved at your passing master.”

Scourge gave Aria an approving nod as she melted the ice, of all his pupils he was the most proud of her. As beautiful as her mother, she was a fearsome warrior and by rights should be offered the mantle of leadership over the ‘Order of the Shadow’ when the Slave King no longer desired his services.

“My pupil, has the battle been favorable to you?” Scourge asked her.

“It has, my master,” Aria said over the roar of the flames being discharged from her fingertips. “The enemy resistance is failing, just as you predicted.”

“The Slave King will be pleased then,” Scourge replied, as he waited for the last of the ice to break off his arcanum armor.

“Yes, the Slave King will be pleased with you…” Aria said, unwilling to look at her master.

“I’m sure he is pleased with your performance as well,” Scourge said, as his spirit fused with his armor. “I know he is.”

“Then master, why has he never said so to either me or my sisters?” Aria asked, giving Scourge a look that desperately sought the answer to her question. “Are we such a disappointment to him?”

“It’s not my place to know my king’s mind,” Scourge said, attempting to provide his pupil with a small modicum of comfort. “But I see how he looks at you when you’re not watching. It is one of great pride.”

“Then why has he not said so?” Aria angrily said, unfurling her wings in preparation to take flight.

“I know not my pupil,” Scourge sadly replied, testing the joints of his armor.

Without another word, Aria and her war band took to the skies once more leaving Scourge behind. Watching his angry feathered folk pupil disappear over the battlements, Scourge looked behind him to where the Slave King sat observing the battle. Shaking his head sadly, he shook himself once and charged through the broken wall to rejoin his minotaurs who he was sure was in dire need of some positive reinforcement.

*****

Looking up, he could see the sun shining in the cloudless sky overhead. It would be a beautiful day today. Though it wasn’t often that he enjoyed the city, today he had decided to personally see how his thriving city was doing. Though he was usually too busy reading some documents or one of the many petitions his people sent him on a daily basis, he decided that today he would take a well-deserved break. His meticulous secretary, Bosun was at his side carrying a satchel full of scrolls, bits, and his personal schedule.

“My liege,” Bosun said, pointing towards a large building made of carved coral and covered in bas relief carvings depicting the exploits of his realms mightiest heroes. “Perhaps you might care to tour the Hall of Heroes today. I hear the Harper’s Guild are performing the epic of Sir Stouthorn the Chivalrous, and his companion Seafoam the Virtuous today.”

As tempting as listening to a recital of a classic epic was, he thought the better of it. “No,” he said, stroking his magnificent mustache. “I’m here in the city to see the present, not to reflect on the past.”

“Very well, my liege,” Bosun said, disappointed that he would miss out on an opportunity to listen to the epic performed by experienced harpers. “Perhaps you might enjoy the city gardens. The apricot trees are in full bloom now. I know how you enjoy watching their blossoms fall.”

Sitting in meditation beneath an apricot tree while watching their blossoms fall did sound rather appealing, it wasn’t often that he the opportunity to do so. But sitting in quiet meditation contemplating nature would defeat the reason for coming into the city in the first place. “No Bosun,” he said, shaking his head and causing his dark green mane to move freely about his neck. “It’s ponies not nature I have come to observe.”

Bosun gave his liege a sideways look, “Well…” he said, trying to avoid making the suggestion, “there’s always the ports, pubs, and brothels if you really want to rub fins with the common pony.”

When he heard Bosun’s suggestion, he raised his left eyebrow questioningly. “I wonder if it would be proper, for my ponies to see me enter such vulgar places,” he mused aloud.

“My liege, you could always go incognito,” Bosun suggested, “if you wish to remain anonymous.”

“Bosun, that’s a capital idea!” he declared, startling several nearby seaponies who were surprised by their lord’s sudden outburst. Slipping into a nearby alley, he drew upon the latent magic of the sea that flowed through his body. Water infused magic pooled up beneath him, enveloping him and leaving behind a flowing mass of water. Slowly the water receded, leaving behind a humble looking seapony in its place.

Exiting the alley and reentering the street, he looked at his reflection in a nearby fountain. Staring back at him was a rather handsome looking devil if he didn’t say so. His dark green coat and light green mane cut a rather striking figure. “Bosun, how do I look?” he asked his secretary.

“My liege,” Bosun replied, “as always, you look simply magnificent. Now all you need is an alias to complete your disguise.”

“Bosun, call me Kelpie,” he said, to his secretary.

“Very well, Kelpie,” Bosun replied, gesturing with his fin for his liege to follow him. “I’ve heard interesting tales told of The Lady of the Sea.”

While Kelpie was the sort of stallion that knew places of ill repute like The Lady of the Sea had their place, as somepony as revered as he, being seen visiting such a place would certainly raise some eyebrows. But nowhere else could possibly offer him a greater insight into the mind of the common seapony and all the other mortal visitors of Marelantis.

Approaching the gilded building bearing the name The Lady of the Sea, Kelpie could see the dozens of mares, does, griffinesses, bitches, and other assorted females doing their best to lure customers inside to enjoy their multitude of delights. Having been quite some time since he had last associated with ponies of this character, he looked to Bosun to take the lead.

“Who shall we speak with to feel the pulse of the city?” Kelpie asked Bosun.

“Kelpie,” Bosun replied, “perhaps the madam of this establishment might be the pony to ask.”

“You seek the madam of The Lady of the Sea?” a silken voice asked.

Turning around, Kelpie saw a dragoness looking at him questioningly with emerald eyes. Her blue scales were faded with age, and she held a hookah pipe in her left claw which she took the occasional drag from. “That we are,” he replied. “We’re merchants having just returned from the Zebrakan, and wishing to know how the city has been in our absence.”

“With plenty of sea dollars, or bits I hope…” the dragoness said, taking a long drag from her hookah. “Nothing inside The Lady of the Sea is free.”

“We have the means to pay,” Bosun said, shaking his satchel, and causing the money inside to jingle together.

“Then gentlestallions,” the dragoness said with a slight bow, “I welcome you to sample all that we offer.”

Turning towards two beautiful seapony mares attending to her, the dragoness whispered something to them causing them to titter.

“Come,” the first said, “we are going to give you gentlestallions the Lady Suzaku special.”

“The Lady Suzaku special?” Kelpie asked, curious as to what that would entail.

“Oh yes,” the second cooed, “my sister and I have been instructed to welcome you back to our fair city properly.”

*****

Hours later, Kelpie and Happy Ending, the seapony mare attending him were sitting on a bed together. “So is there anything more of interest you can tell me more about the city?” he asked her.

“I don’t know about the city,” Happy Ending whispered seductively, “but there’s something interesting on my side of the bed I would like to share with you.”

“Perhaps next time, little sister,” Kelpie said, brushing off her advances. “Tell me, have there been any rumors from the Domain of Earth recently?”

Rolling her eyes in disgust at the stallion that was refusing her, Happy Ending answered Kelpie’s question. “There are always rumors of war coming from the south,” she said, lying back against the bed and exposing her tempting flank to her customer. “But a yellow unicorn gem merchant I serviced recently mentioned he had heard that the Slave King was active near Bone’s Landing less than a week ago. Perhaps if you like we can discuss it in more detail under the silken sheets of my bed.”

“Thank you, but no,” Kelpie said getting off the bed. “What was the merchant’s name?”

“I believe the merchant’s name was Rough Cut,” Happy Ending told Kelpie, no longer bothering trying to seduce him.

“Thank you little sister,” Kelpie said leaving a generous stack of sea dollars on the table besides the bed. “The time we spent together was most educational.”

Happy Ending began eagerly counting the money as Kelpie left her room. Spying Bosun, he floated over towards his secretary and tapped him on the shoulder.

“Ah Kelpie,” Bosun said, seeing that his liege was standing behind him, “did you enjoy yourself?”

“I think I’ve learned all we can from this place,” Kelpie told his secretary.

“Well if you’re ready to leave we can do so now,” Bosun replied, handing several sea dollars to the seapony he had been chatting with. Following his liege out of The Lady of the Sea, he looked questioningly at Kelpie. “So what did you learn?”

“I think the Slave King might be readying himself for war against us,” Kelpie advised him. “We’ll need to speak with a unicorn gem merchant named Rough Cut to confirm my suspicions though.”

Pulling out a thick ledger from his satchel, Bosun began consulting it as he searched for the merchant’s name. “Ah here we are,” he said, pointing towards an entry in the ledger with his fin. “It looks like Rough Cut’s vessel, the Shiny Bauble, is scheduled for departure today.”

“Then lead the way,” Kelpie said, waiting for Bosun to guide him to where the vessel was docked.

A short time later both Kelpie and Bosun approached the dock that the Shiny bauble was moored at. Looking at the ship’s lines, Kelpie could tell it was of Equestrian origins. Instead of the sleek fast lines the ships of the Domain of Water used, Equestrians ships were more delicate and fanciful.

Kelpie approached one of the earth pony sailors who were busy preparing the ship for launch. “Excuse me my fine pony,” he said with a smile. “Might I trouble you to direct me to a unicorn named Rough Cut?”

The brown earth pony put down the large crate he was carrying on his back and looked at the two seaponies for a minute before spitting on the dock. When the crate hit the deck, the rattle of iron chains was heard. “Depends on who’s asking,” he said, giving the seaponies a hard look with his blue eyes that were nearly hidden beneath his unkempt black mane.

Kelpie flashed a warm smile and extended his fin in greeting. “We’re just two fellow merchants wishing to discuss trade with him,” he said, hoping to win over the earth pony.

“Haven’t got time to gab with a bunch of fish faces,” the earth pony brusquely replied, picking back up his heavy load revealing his cutie mark, a pair of manacles.

Bosun, incensed that anypony would treat his liege so rudely, got in the earth pony’s face and pointed a fin threateningly at him. “You’d better make the time,” he growled, “if you know what’s good for you.”

Kelpie, seeing things had the potential to get out of fin fast flashed a few golden equestrian bits. Perhaps we got off on the wrong fin, er hoof,” he said.

The earth pony took the bits, and gestured towards the ship. “Rough Cut is below decks,” he said, returning to his work.

“Perhaps you could take him to us?” Kelpie asked hopefully.

“Perhaps I could,” the uncooperative earth pony replied, looking back at Kelpie expectantly.

Bosun, seeing where this was going flashed a few more bits. “Perhaps you could find it in your heart to take us to him?” he asked, holding onto the bits tightly with his fin.

"Come this way,” the earth pony said, leading the seaponies onto the ship. Once they reached the hold, the pony stuck his head into the hold and shouted, “Oy, Rough Cut. There’s a couple seaponies looking for ya.”

Snatching the bits from Bosun’s fin, the pony went back to work and left the two seaponies to wait for Rough Cut to come up from beneath the decks. A short time later, a fat yellow unicorn with a large polished gemstone on his flanks climbed up out of the cargo hold.

The unicorn looked at Kelpie and Bosun for a minute, before slicking back his orange mane. “I’m Rough Cut,” he said, looking at the seaponies cautiously. “What business did you lot have with me?”

“We’re merchants ourselves,” Kelpie said, extending his fin in greeting. “Recently we heard you’d had business in the Domain of Earth. Is that true?”

Rough Cut looked at Kelpie suspiciously. “Perhaps I have.” he said, “There’s neither contraband nor slaves on my ship. There’s no law that says I can’t trade with the diamond dogs.”

“No one’s accusing you of slaving,” Kelpie replied, noticing that the hold below contained many cages.

“That’s good, because I’m no slaver,” Rough Cut said, looking at the two seaponies. “I run a respectable business trading gems with the diamond dogs.”

“Did you happen to see a large amount of diamond dog activity in the vicinity of Bone’s Landing? Kelpie asked.

“That I did,” Rough Cut replied, placing a pipe in his mouth before lighting it. “I was making an exchange down near the Desolate Road when I saw a large number of them shadow knights that belong to the Slave King and a couple thousand of diamond dogs. They mighta been drilling, they mighta been marching to war, but they were moving west in an awful hurry.”

“The Desolate Road?” Bosun pointedly asked. “Isn’t that the main exchange near the coast for slaves?”

“Aye, that it is,” Rough Cut defensively said, “but there’s plenty other legitimate trade that occurs there as well. Now I answered yer questions, now get off me ship.”

“I have one last question for you,” Kelpie said, looking disapprovingly at the fat unicorn before him.

“What’s it?” Rough Cut demanded, puffing on his pipe.

“How many of your fellow ponies have you damned to misery and death, in the Slave King’s mines?” Kelpie demanded of the merchant.

“We run a clean ship, we ain’t no slavers,” Rough Cut growled, angry at being accused of such monstrous behavior. “To the Pit with ye!”

Kelpie turned to Bosun, “Come, we’ve gotten what we needed,” he said to his secretary.

“You lot, taint going nowhere,” a menacing voice said from behind them.

Turning around, Kelpie saw the rude earth pony from earlier, along with six other rough and tumble stallions. “Now there’s no need for violence, I’d hate for somepony to get hurt,” he said, trying to convince the ponies to stop.

“Take this lot down below, and be gentle” Rough Cut said with a cruel smile. “Seaponies make lousy laborers, but I hear they still pay top bits for the ones in excellent condition.”

Kelpie had heard enough. He was originally only planning on having the port authority detain the crew for questioning, but now they had just proven themselves to be nothing less than inpony slavers. Feeling the cries for justice from all the souls of those poor ponies who had been forced into slavery by these beasts in pony form, he drew upon the blessed Western Sea to bring them to justice.

Menacingly the seven pony slavers surrounded the two seaponies. Bosun’s eyes and fins became flush with power, as he drew upon the magic of water preparing to defend himself. Kelpie, knowing that the need for a disguise was past, took on his true form.

In shock at the sight of the two empowered seaponies, the pony slavers all got down on their knees begging for their lives. Rough Cut in particular, when he saw Kelpie reveal himself dropped his pipe and began to back peddling in an effort to escape him.

With a flick of his fin, Kelpie caused a tendril of water to reach up over the ship and grab hold of the unicorn slaver hanging him upside down by his hind leg. Looking down at his captor Rough Cut looked down in terror at the seapony below him, doing the only thing he was able to. Beg for his life.

“Please master,” Rough Cut begged, “we’re just honest merchants trying to make a living.”

“You have made your fortune built on the back and tears of those too weak to fight you,” Kelpie said, full of righteous anger as he wrapped tendrils of water over the unicorn’s head. “By all rights, I should just kill you now.”

Rough Cut struggled in vain against the watery tendrils that were depriving him of the precious oxygen his lungs demanded. His eyes darted back and forth, and his mouth opened and closed searching desperately for air just outside of his reach. His body shook and his face started turning blue as he faced death by asphyxiation. Right before he gave up the ghost, the tendrils of water drowning him let go, and he fell to the deck of the ship with a very wet thunk. Coughing up water, and gasping for air. The unicorn looked up in fear at Kelpie.

“But there’s something to be said for the quality of mercy,” Kelpie said. “You and your stallions will not die today, but you will face justice for your crimes by Celestia’s hoof.”

Bosun turned to his liege. “Mercy?” he asked, surprised by Kelpie’s actions.

“It’s what Celestia would want, if she were here,” Kelpie explained. “I made a public spectacle of this. I’m sure other slavers will think about a career change. Besides, I have far greater problems to attend to…”

“You mean seeing to Bone’s Landing’s defense?” Bosun asked.

“Yes,” Kelpie replied, before turning towards some nearby guards, instructing them to detain the Shiny Bauble’s crew until he could see to their transportation to Princess Celestia’s custody. “Bosun, how quickly can we mount an expeditionary force to Bone’s Landing?”

“My liege, probably within three days’ time at the earliest,” Bosun said, consulting his ledger. “However…”

Before Bosun could finish, an out of breath seapony courier floated over towards them. “Thank the Lawgiver, I finally found you my lord!”

Kelpie turned towards the courier, curious as to what he could want. “What dire news do you have for me?” he asked.

“It’s terrible, Lord Triton,” the courier told the Lawgiver. “Bone’s Landing has been sacked and nearly overrun!”

“Tell me, who was responsible for this treachery!” the Lord of Water demanded.

“It was ‘The Order of the Shadow’,” the courier said. “Scourge himself was seen leading the assault against its walls. And that not even the half of it, there’s even worse news.”

Lord Triton reeled in disbelief, how could things get any worse? “Well then, spit it out,” he ordered, “are we to be assaulted by dragons as well?”

“No, the Slave King is leading the forces personally!” the courier said, his exhausted body still barely able to keep himself aloft.

“How could this happen?” Lord Triton demanded to the courier. “Nearly a fifth of my forces are stationed there. Bone’s Landing is one of the most heavily fortified cities in the world!”

“My lord, I know not,” the courier answered, “I barely escaped with my life. The last thing I saw before escaping into the sea was the outer walls being breached by the Slave King’s forces.”

“How long ago?” Lord Triton said, with a voice that threatened violence.

“Lord Triton, less than six hours ago,” the courier said, still trying to regain his composure.

“Then the city is lost,” Bosun said, shaking his head sadly at the loss of one their most important trade hubs.

Without bothering to reply to his secretary, Lord Triton floated down the Shiny Bauble’s gangplank and floated down the pier towards the Western Sea. With a look of iron determination on his muzzle, he drew upon the power of his domain until he was flush with magic. Both his scales and eyes glowed with an ethereal blue light.

Concerned for his liege, Boson chased after Lord Triton. “My liege, where are you going?” he shouted after the Lord of Water.

“Bosun,” Lord Triton commanded. “Send dispatches to all my knights, to Lord Cerynitis, and Princess Celestia. Tell them I am going to reclaim Bone’s Landing, and their assistance would be greatly appreciated in this matter.”

“But my liege,” Bosun objected, “you can’t possibly defeat the Slave King alone in his own domain!”

“Bosun, you worry too much!” Lord Triton said with a small laugh, before jumping into the Western Sea. Within moments, the sea was frothing and boiling as an enormous waterspout formed. From within the water spout, the face of Lord Triton looked down on his secretary. “I’ll be fine, but I certainly won’t object to any aid you can get me.”

“Very well my liege,” Bosun said, bowing his head in defeat before he rushed off towards Lord Triton’s Citadel.

Looking towards the Domain of Earth, Lord Triton scowled and grimly said, “I could certainly use it.”

Authors Notes:

Thank you gentlereader for reading, as always comments are appreciated. It was an enjoyable time revisiting the Slave King and the others. I hope you've found the story to your liking so far. I plan on leaving lots of juicy tidbits to chew on as I release each chapter. Hopefully you've found the characters I've introduced intriguing. I had a real fun time writing Lord Triton, it allowed me to channel Sir Stouthorn's inner justice as he punished those wicked pony slavers. This story will be the first one I've written dealing heavily with themes of family. While the previous one was centered more on friendship, I hope you'll find the interactions of Dawson, Aria, Harmony, and Melody to be believable and most importantly entertaining.

Once again thank you for reading gentlereader, until next time!

Chapter 2: To the Victor go the Spoils

The Book of Water: The Marriage of the Slave King

A Story by TalonMach5

Chapter 2: To the Victor go the Spoils

It is often said by so many, “Fortune favors the bold” or they might attribute favorable outcomes to fortunate circumstances and lucky coincidences, but that is only the wishful thinking of those too ignorant to know any better. Those who know the truth, know that all that is or ever was, was put into motion by powers that the mortal mind cannot hope to comprehend. There are threads everywhere, pulling and controlling Equestria’s inhabitants like puppets. Take the ending of the recent famine and new treaty we ponies have with the Domain of Earth, seems to be a little convenient now doesn’t it. While we might be the puppeteer’s favorite for now, I fear for the day when that ceases to be.

- Broken Quill the Mad, Listen to me Young Grasshopper: The Ramblings of a Madstallion

Dawson could feel the wind rushing through his feathers. When he heard the wind whistling in his ears, he felt a strange sense of dread running up his spine, but didn’t quite know the reason why. He felt someone besides him, their silken fur felt wonderful against him. Inhaling deeply, he caught a hint of their scent. They were definitely female, and smelt strongly of lilacs and freshly falling snow. Opening his eyes, he let out a loud cry of surprise as he saw the ground rushing towards him. Seeing the imminent danger, he grabbed ahold of her, opened his wings, and prayed to Lady Zephyr that his wings would save them from their eminent doom.

*****

Gunhilde breathed in deeply, enjoying the scent of her male companion. She felt safe in his strong talons, as the wind rushed past her head… “Wait, what?” she groggily thought. “Wind, am I falling?” Opening her eyes, she almost panicked when she saw the ground below rushing up to meet her. Suddenly she felt strong arms grab a hold of her tightly, and felt herself thrust against her savior’s chest as their descent slowed. They were still falling slower than before, but it was still not enough for a safe landing.

Gunhilde looked up and saw the black wings of her savior. “Tsch, let me go faen,” she shouted at him. “I have no need of one of that monster’s spawn to rescue me.”

Dawson gave the reindeer a hard look, and thought about dropping her for the insult. He could sense no magic was flowing through her hooves, without magic she would drop like a stone to her death. “Sorry battlemage, but you’re my prisoner,” he shouted at Gunhilde, pressing her body against him with a vise like grip.

“We’ll both die if you don’t,” Gunhilde shouted back to the griffin-half. “Besides, I could never live down the shame of being your prisoner.”

“No way,” Dawson replied, “you’re my ticket to fortune and glory. The Slave King is sure to reward me for capturing one of Lord Cerynitis’s battlemages.”

“Let me go!” Gunhilde cried out, doing her best to wriggle free of Dawson’s grasp.

“Stop moving!” Dawson growled, before biting down hard on Gunhilde’s antlers with his sharp beak.

Screaming in pain and terror as the ground came closer and closer, Gunhilde’s eyes went wide with fright as she was sure, she would soon meet her ancestors.

Fawhoosh! The sounds of another pair of wings opening hit their ears. Right before they hit the ground hard, they slowed to a gentle stop. Suddenly, Dawson and Gunhilde both fell to the ground when whatever had just saved them let go.

Looking up, Dawson saw the smiling face of a white pegasus sitting on top of his head wearing a big grin. “Sorry about that friend,” Bucky said, blowing a few loose strands of his yellow mane from out of his eyes and pointing towards Gunhilde with his hoof. “But that battlemage nearly flash froze me back there.”

“I owe you one Bucky,” Dawson said with a smile, before wincing as he tried folding back his wings. “Damn it! I think I pulled my right wing out of its socket.”

Gunhilde listened to the enemies that had rescued her, talking with each other. She grinned when she saw that they had foolishly turned their backs to her. Stupid mudslingers, she thought menacingly. We’ll see who makes who their prisoner! Charging up her antlers to attack them, she smiled as she thought about how she would make both of them dearly pay for humiliating her!

While Dawson was shifting his right shoulder uncomfortably, Bucky felt his tail twitching and his back left knee throbbing slightly. That meant somepony was gonna get badly hurt or even killed by magic! It would be a mare most likely, judging by how much his tail was twitching. The magic would certainly be from the water domain, possibly of the freezing ice variety. Most likely it would be an area effect spell, judging by how bad his knee was throbbing. Anypony caught in the blast radius would definitely have a bad day. Wait, the reindeer that Dawson saved was a battlemage wasn’t she? They cast ice spells! But why would she hurt herself, did she have a death wish or something?

Knowing he needed to alert Dawson the impending blast, he turned towards Gunhilde’s charged antlers and pointed. “Dawson, watch out she’s going to explode!” he shouted.

Dawson’s eyes locked on Gunhilde. He could see the fractures in her rune covered antlers from where his sharp teeth and beak had chomped down on them. He knew the backlash from the spell would most likely kill everyfeather. Seeing the massive magic building up in her damaged antlers, he knew he only had one chance to save his prisoner’s life.

Shoving Bucky away from him, Dawson reached out and grabbed Gunhilde’s antlers. Once again, the magic in her antlers flowed through his talons and up his arms, shocking them both. Screaming in pain from the magical backlash, both the griffin-half and reindeer fell to the ground unconscious.

Bucky looked down at both of them, gingerly prodded them with his hoof. A few moments later, he was rewarded with a few soft moans coming from both of them. He felt relief wash over him, happy that nopony had ended up dying. Looking at the battlemage at his feet, he thought about how his superiors would reward him for saving Dawson and assisting in capturing a valuable enemy asset. That was worth at least two of his remaining ten, combined with the battle he would probably be granted a third. With three more of his ten done, he would finally be free. Perhaps they might even recommend that he be granted a chance to wear the Slave King’s personal brand!

Seeing the unconscious doe, Bucky wondered where she might end up. Her antlers would be broken off for sure. Looking at her unmoving form, he saw she was rather beautiful. She would probably end up as somepony’s tentmare, he thought. Tentmares were the colloquial term used by the soldiers of the Slave King for female prisoners of war who served as unwilling entertainment for their captors. It was not unheard of for a tentmare to service a whole unit after a successful battle.

Thinking about what fate would probably befall her. Bucky began feeling a bit sorry for her. Looking up, he could see the flash frozen cloud above him and hardened his heart. She had tried killing them after all. If he turned a blind eye to her, she would probably try doing so again. Knowing what needed to be done, he roughly shook Dawson awake.

Dawson groaned in pain. “Oh, my head…” he moaned, clutching his head gingerly with his talons. Looking down at the unconscious doe at his feet he narrowed his eyes. “Bucky, did I ever tell you that I absolutely hate magic.”

“Nope, can’t say that you have,” Bucky replied, helping his fellow soldier to his feet. “Let’s restrain her, before she wakes up.”

Grabbing a length of rope, Dawson began binding their prisoner, in preparation for presenting her to the Slave King as a sign of their prowess in battle.

Gunhilde’s purple eyes fluttered open as she felt the bite of the ropes against her white coat. “Release me!” she demanded, flaring her nostrils in defiance as her tail twitched in fear at what they had planned for her. She had heard the stories of course, everydeer back home had. About how beautiful does like herself would be treated if captured. Of course she had giggled with the other does at the thought of a barbarous mudslinger having his brutish way with her. But now that the stark reality was upon her, she was filled with terror and dread for her future.

“What, what are you going to do with me?” Gunhilde asked, desperately trying to hide how afraid she felt.

Dawson gave her a flinty look. “I’m going to present you to the Slave King,” he said. “When he sees how I singlehandedly…”

“Hey!” Bucky objected, when he heard he was being left out. “If it wasn’t for me, you would be a griffin and deer sandwich.”

“Oh sorry Bucky,” Dawson said, giving his pegasus companion a pat on the shoulder. “When he sees how we brought you down together, he will reward us greatly with honor.”

“You brutes! You monsters!” Gunhilde shouted, attempting to fight back the tears that threatened to escape her proud eyes. “I hope when Lord Triton comes to avenge us, that he drowns every last one of you black hearted mudslingers! You might take my virtue, but never my honor.”

Dawson looked down at the frightened doe, bringing his beak close to her muzzle. “As if I would stoop to rutting with one of Lord Cerynitis’s ice witches,” he said. “The Slave King will decide your fate. He’ll most likely have you work in the mines hauling out gems. Then after your ten years is up, he’ll cast you out of his domain and back to your people.”

When she heard the griffin-half announce her most likely fate, she cried. Ten years of never seeing the sun, or dancing in the snow? Ten years of back breaking labor working for the enemies of her people, and in the end to be tossed aside like refuse. “No!” Gunhilde shouted, freely crying in anger at the injustice of her cruel fate. “I’ll never willingly serve filthy mudslingers like you.”

“Hey,” Bucky said, sitting on his haunches beside her as he wiped the tears from her eyes and cheeks. “I know it seems frightening now, but after the first year it’s not so bad.”

In response, Gunhilde bit his foreleg as hard as she could. “Argh!” Bucky cried out in pain, before kicking her in the side, and knocking her to the ground. “That’s the last time I try helping anypony.”

“Just leave her,” Dawson said, “all the deer are the same. Thinking they are above the children of the Earth.”

Gunhilde scowled at Dawson and Bucky, as they waited for the battle to end and as she waited to learn of her ultimate fate.

*****

Princess Celestia was doing her best to console her weeping sibling. “Dearest sister,” she said, laying her head against Princess Luna’s. “Tell me what happened between you and Lord Cerynitis.”

“Sister,” Princess Luna said, wiping her eyes with a silken hoofkerchief. “We ask that thou not speakest the brigand’s name in our presence again. The foul brute uttered a curse most foul against us. Wishing we rot in the Pit with the Slave King of all ponies. We shan’t be able to show our face in public again after such a humiliation!”

“While a cruel insult might be discomfiting, Luna,” Princess Celestia said, trying to point out how silly her sister was being. “It’s hardly a reason to exile yourself from our subjects.”

“But he was our oldest and dearest friend,” Princess Luna objected, “and surely the rest of the pantheon will know of our embarrassment, er long when we attend the Slave King’s inauguration. We darest not show up, lest we be mocked and slandered by their cruel rumors.”

“Dearest Luna, I will be by your side the entire time,” Princess Celestia said, hugging her younger sister. “I’ll make sure nopony says anything to you.”

“Sister, thou sweareth it?” Princess Luna asked, looking her elder sister in the eye from beneath her disheveled mane.

“I promise Luna,” Princess Celestia said, giving her younger sister a warm smile. “Nopony will mock you, not Lord Cerynitis or anypony else. If they do, I’ll see to it that they are banished to their domain for at least a century.”

Princess Luna smiled at the thought of Lord Cerynitis, imprisoned in the Forever Ice Keep and being unable to leave it. “Very well,” she said, drying her tears and blowing her nose, “we shall agree to attend the Slave King’s inauguration.”

“Oh I’m so glad sister,” Princess Celestia said, lowering her head against her sister’s.

Before Princess Luna could respond, a shimmering pearl as bright as the full moon appeared in the air above their heads. “Who coulds’t have sent this dispatch?” Princess Luna asked.

“It must be from Lord Triton,” Princess Celestia pointed out. “It appears to be one of his pearls.”

“Surely his need must be great to send us yonder pearl,” Princess Luna said, examining the large pearl.

Before anypony could say anything more, the pearl took on a blue sheen and started glowing. Levitated in the air, it showered the room with a mystical light as blue as the Western Sea. Standing before them was an image of Bosun, Lord Triton’s secretary. Looking at both mares, he bowed respectfully once before addressing Princess Celestia.

“Princess Celestia, and Princess Luna, the Domain of Water hails you and sends you grim tidings,” the spectral image said with a heavy sigh. “The Slave King’s forces have sacked Bone’s Landing, and we found out too late to send reinforcements. Lord Triton has personally gone forth to challenge them…”

“But he’ll be cut off from his domain there,” Princess Luna pointed out. “He’ll be in an extremely vulnerable position, if the Slave King decides to take offense to Lord Triton’s trespass.”

“As always Princess Luna, your intellect is only matched by your fair beauty,” Bosun said, making her blush profusely.

“How can we help Lord Triton? What aid does he seek,” Princess Celestia asked the projection.

“Lord Triton bids me to ask you for your intervention in this matter,” Bosun said. “I beg you to aid him, for I greatly fear for my liege’s safety. The Slave King himself was seen watching the battle.”

Celestia looked down at Bosun, and carefully considered the request. On the one hoof, the Lawgiver had always been a staunch defender of justice and keeper of the peace. But on the other hoof the Slave King’s trade network had made him immensely wealthy, and he had large armies patrolling her domain’s borders. If the Slave King decided to retaliate for her interference in a spat between the Domains of Earth and Water, there was little she could do to stop him.

“Has Lord Cerynitis agreed to come to Lord Triton’s aid?” Princess Celestia asked.

“Unfortunately no, Your Majesty,” Bosun said. “Of late, there’s been a rift between my liege and Lord Cerynitis.”

When she heard Bosun mention Lord Cerynitis’s refusal to answer a summons, Princess Celestia knew immediately something was wrong. Perhaps Discord had escaped his stone prison once more, and was up to his old tricks again. Narrowing her eyes, she looked Bosun in the eye. “How long has there been a rift between them?” she asked.

“For the last few decades at least, Your Majesty,” Bosun replied. “I’m not privy to the details, but I believe that my liege and Lord Cerynitis had a falling out.”

“But they wert as brothers! Perchance even closer than we and our own sister,” Princess Luna said, confused at how their friendship could have deteriorated so quickly in such a short period of time.

“This is grim news indeed,” Princess Celestia said, concerned that the situation could easily escalate into unnecessary bloodshed outside the conflict. Knowing that she couldn’t afford to allow Lord Triton to perish, she decided to pledge her aid. “Very well, I shall come to parlay with the Slave King.”

“Oh thank the Lawgiver!” Bosun said, relieved that his liege wouldn’t be facing the Slave King alone. Before his image disappeared, he bowed, “The Domain of Water is forever in your debt.”

“Thou shalt not go alone, mine sister,” Princess Luna declared. “We shall accompany thee to assist thee in disciplining the wayward child.”

“Luna, he’s hardly a child anymore,” Princess Celestia said, admonishing her sister. Lighting her horn, she drew on the power of the sun as she prepared teleporting them the vast distance to Bone’s Landing. “We must approach the Slave King as a peer, and appeal to his better judgment. Perhaps a compromise might be reached.”

“We find thy faith in reasoning with the Slave King highly dubious,” Princess Luna replied, as her sister’s magic enveloped them.

“I have to hope there’s a better way,” Princess Celestia replied, before they both winked out of the material plane, following a ley line towards the Domain of Earth.

*****

Worriedly pacing her bedchamber, she kept looking impatiently at the entryway hoping that somefeather would bring her word of his whereabouts. “Oh where are you my dear hatchling?” she said, lying down on a silken cushion.

She could still remember the last conversation they had together over a fortnight ago. He’d angrily accused her of smothering him, before storming out of the palace. She loved him dearly, and only wanted to keep him safe from harm. Was that such a crime, wanting to protect somefeather from needless suffering? He was just like his father, so headstrong. When she thought of his father, she felt a renewed sense of loss. Her son was the only piece of him she’d managed to hold on to. If she lost her son as well, she didn’t know what she would do.

“My son,” she wept, “where are you?”

A soft knocking was heard at the door. Looking up, she dried her eyes and looked at it expectantly. “Enter,” she said, dreading that there would be no news of her son, or worse that he’d been badly hurt in the wilderness.

A large male griffin entered the room, holding a scroll in his talon. “Lady Zephyr, forgive the intrusion,” he said, with a low bow. “But you wished to be informed the minute we received word of your son’s whereabouts.”

“Where is he?” Lady Zephyr demanded, staring at the messenger with eyes reddened by worry and tears. “Where is my son?”

“We just received this dispatch from the Slave King,” the messenger said, handing her the scroll.

When she heard his name, her heart leapt with joy. Perhaps he cared for her after all. However, when she read the meager contents of the message, her ire rose. The contents of the message said, ‘I have your son. Come and retrieve him.’

“How dare he!” she fumed, furious with her son for disobeying her by going to the Domain of Earth, and enraged by the Slave King’s callous dismissal of him. Getting up from the cushion, she moved forward to exit her bedchamber.

“Lady Zephyr,” the messenger asked, “where are you going?”

“To go get my son,” Lady Zephyr replied. “Tell the council I will be gone several days at least.”

Unfurling her great wings, she let the cool breeze caress her feathers. The feathers adorning her plumage were the same color as the midday sky, and many considered them to be quite striking. Drawing upon the potent magic of the Domain of Air, she disappeared in a flash of lightning and a gust of wind. “Don’t worry my son,” she said, following the ley lines that flowed south towards the Domain of Earth. “I will return you safely to the nest.”

*****

“Master Scourge!” a minotaur shouted from behind the remains of the collapsed building he was using for cover, as the sounds of dozens of spells being flung at them nearly drowned out the sound of his voice. “We must fall back, there’s too many seapony mages and reindeer battlemages to continue this way!”

Scourge’s hackles rose when he heard the suggestion. Fall back at their moment of triumph? Never! The doomhound wouldn’t allow it. Looking over the wall, he saw the tower protecting the heart of the city where the defenders were making their final stand. Turning towards the minotaurs near him, he motioned towards the tower. “We’re going to take out the tower,” he said, bearing his teeth. “I want everyhound to pound the ground as hard as they can on my signal. Pass it down the line.”

As the message made its way through the ranks, moos and bellows were heard as the minotaurs began psyching themselves up for their attack. Looking towards his officers, the shadow knight saw that each bull was ready to proceed with his plan. The plan was a risky one, but if successful would allow his forces to breach the inner keep of the city. Nodding once to his officers, Scourge tapped into the ever present ley lines of the Earth accessed their power, and drew it into his heavy armor. As the armor became super saturated with the power of the Earth, the metal plates took on a decidedly green tint.

With a mighty growl, Scourge stood up and charged at the tower. Seeing the doomhound reckless charging them, the defending seaponies and reindeer began throwing all that had at their assailant. Though the watery deluges might slow him down, it was the ice attacks that would seriously give him a hard time. Weaving back and forth, he managed to evade most of defender’s magical onslaught. Every once in a while an attack would hit him, but fortunately the magical energies of his armor held fast and was able to absorb them.

Nearing the base of the tower that held the defending seaponies and reindeer, Scourge pushed his paws hard against the pavement preparing to propel himself head first into its foundations. “Now!” he roared, moments before he leapt forward.

When they heard his shout, his minotaurs, each of them experienced veterans, lifted their hooves as one and slammed them down hard against the Earth. There was a sharp crack as the earth groaned, and a heavy clang as Scourge slammed into the tower’s stone foundation. Examining where he had smashed into the tower, Scourge noticed a small hairline fracture running up the length of the tower. Satisfied with the results, he retreated back to where his bulls were waiting for him.

The seaponies and reindeer in the tower could scarcely believe their good fortune. They had successfully repelled Scourge, the terror of the battlefield himself. Letting out a victory whoop, the defenders resumed flinging their spells at the retreating doomhound and at the minotaurs who were just out of the range of their spells. However their elation soon turned to confusion, when they saw the shadow knight staring up at them defiantly. Slowly, the minotaurs he was leading joined him out in the open, and their confusion quickly changed to fear as the doomhound continued starring menacingly at them. As their fear turned to terror, the defenders redoubled their efforts to strike them down with their spells, but found that their enemy was out of the effective range of their magic.

Scourge looked at the tower, then looked to his officers and nodded once more. In turn the minotaurs began beating their chests and stomping their hooves, causing the earth to tremble. Even inside their tower, the defenders felt the vibrations of the earth trembling as the tower slightly swayed to and fro. Erratically they began casting their spells with a fury, but still failed to hit any of them. Eventually after several minutes, the casting slowed down as the defender’s minds were overwhelmed by exhaustion and fear.

Knowing it was time to land the fatal blow, Scourge faced the tower. Immediately, the minotaurs under his command fell silent and stopped stomping the ground with their hooves. The doomhound, who was still infused with the power of the Earth, walked forward confidently, shrugging off the meager spells of the defenders who still had the strength to cast at him.

Stopping just before the base of the tower he looked up at the defenders. Scourge, whose armor emanated the soft green light of the Earth’s power, dug his claws into the pavement before opening his mouth. “Be removed,” he said to the tower in a low growl that was as quiet as a whisper.

Satisfied with what he had done, Scourge slowly walked away not even bothering to look back at the defenders who were shouting threateningly at him. Seemingly nothing had changed. The hairline fracture from where he had impacted against the foundation seemed no different, but suddenly a large crack was heard from deep within the tower.

Slowly, the hairline crack grew, crawling up the length of the tower. As the crack grew larger, the mortar holding the tower’s stones together began crumbling. Shuddering and threatening to collapse, the tower began swaying back and forth as its structural integrity was compromised. In a panic over the tower’s imminent demise, the reindeer attempted escaping. However, the overuse of their magic had left them severely weakened and unable to fly. The seapony mages were no better off, though their innate ability to float still worked, leaping off the top of the tower safely was out of the question.

They should have taken our offer to surrender, Scourge thought to himself, as he heard the doomed reindeer and seaponies cries of terror as they tried escaping before they were crushed in the tower’s collapse.

Within minutes, the last remnants of the cities defenses were nothing more than a broken heap of rubble and corpses. Turning to face his cheering minotaurs, he scowled. “What are you waiting for?” he demanded, focusing his ethereal glowing eyes on each of them. “The city waits, and our banner is not yet flying victoriously over the keep.”

With a mighty bellow, one of his officers raised his large axe above his head and rushed into the undefended city. Not needing to be told twice, the other minotaurs followed suite and rushed in after their comrade. Looking overhead, Scourge saw Aria and her squadron picking off some of the stragglers near the southern gate and smiled.

“My student,” he said, with a small hint of pride, “this shall be your victory.”

Waking passed the ruined tower and into the city proper, Scourge could hear the panicked screams and cries of the citizens as his minotaurs were looking for anyhound who might offer resistance to their king’s rightful claim over the city. Spying several minotaurs who were preparing to raise the Slave King’s banner, he tilted his head. “Why do you raise the banner?” he asked. “Has the city been completely pacified?”

“No Master Scourge, but…” one of the minotaurs said.

“But what?” Scourge interrupted, with a disapproving snort. “Did you think to grab honor for yourself by raising our king’s banner?”

The minotaur said nothing for a minute, before dropping his shoulders in defeat. “Yes,” he said, cowering under Scourge’s withering glare. “Forgive me Master Scourge, for my greed.”

“Soldier, see to securing the city,” Scourge ordered. “I shall see to raising the banner.”

“Of course Master Scourge,” the minotaur said with a bow, before hurriedly leaving the shadow knight’s presence.

As the screams of the citizenry echoed in the background, Scourge sat down on his haunches and waited. Within ten minutes, the shadows of several griffins, pegasi, and a feathered folk passed by overhead.

“Master Scourge, a brilliant strategy as always,” Aria said, landing gracefully before her revered teacher. Folding her wings against her back, she bowed her head respectfully. “Why hasn’t the king’s banner been raised yet?”

“My pupil,” Scourge said, giving Aria a kindly smile. “I have decided the honor of raising the banner over the city will be yours.”

“But the victory is yours by right! It was your brilliant strategy that broke through their defenses,” Aria objected, before her master raised one of his heavy paws, silencing her.

“My pupil,” Scourge replied, “had you not freed me from my icy prison, there would have been no victory.”

Aria said nothing. Instead she bowed before her master, picked up the offered banner and raised it above the cities keep. Looking up at the fluttering black banner bearing the silver and gold mark of the Slave King overhead, she was filled with conflicting emotions. Would he smile at her safe return? Would he be pleased with her performance today? Would he be proud of her? Would he finally tell her that he was pleased with her?

Seeing that his pupil’s heart was troubled and uncertain, Scourged walked over to Aria and stood beside her. “Come, let us walk together and inspect the spoils,” he said, giving her a plaintive look.

Aria looked down at her master, and remembered how as a young child he would let her pet him. “Master, may I?” she asked, longing for a simpler time.

“Yes, my pupil,” Scourge replied, walking next to Aria, allowing her hand to touch his armor. Though he was mostly intangible, he could still feel the warmth of her fingertips against him. Silently, they surveyed the carnage of the smashed storefronts and broken homes.

“My pupil,” Scourge asked Aria, as they passed a weeping seapony foal crying over the body of its slain mother. “What boon will you ask from our king, for delivering the city to him?”

Looking down at the seapony foal, Aria remembered her own childhood. She could still hear her mother singing a gentle lullaby softly to her as she held her under her wing.

“Today you will meet your father,” her mother said.

“What is he like?” Aria replied, immensely curious about him. “Is he a diamond dog?”

“No,” her mother answered. “Though he rules over the diamond dogs, he isn’t one of them.”

“Then what is he?” she asked, looking at her hands and noticing for the first time how different she truly was from her mother.

“Well…” her mother said, placing a feather besides her beak. “He has hands just like yours.”

“Hands?” Aria asked, amazed that anyfeather else might have them. “And even fingers too?”

“Yes Aria,” her mother said with a musical laugh. “Even fingers too.”

“Why haven’t I ever met him before?” Aria asked, curious why she had never been told about somefeather as amazing as her father.

Her mother’s eyes suddenly became distant and looked a bit sad, before she looked back down at her daughter. “Aria,” her mother said, with a sad smile, “your father wasn’t quite ready to meet you just yet.”

“Is he ready now?” Aria asked, bouncing excitedly at finally meeting somefeather else who had hands and even fingers.

“I believe so,” her mother said, attaching a green bow to her plumage. “Come Aria, we shall see him together.”

Several hours later, they were waiting in large and musty room. Aria didn’t like it. It was nothing like her home. Back home, everything was light and smelled wonderful. However everything here was a mess. The tiles on the floor were cracked, and the air was heavy with dust.

Soon, a large diamond dog entered the room, who bowed respectfully to her mother. “Lady Suzaku,” he said, “forgive the wait, he has been busy in his vault.”

“Is he still laboring over the gem even after all this time?” her mother asked, with concern etched on her face.

“As often as he can,” the diamond dog replied, “he is a hound possessed.”

“That poor grieving soul,” her mother said, holding her daughter closely. “I have come to have him meet Aria, his daughter.”

When the diamond dog heard that, he wore a look of concern on his muzzle. “I don’t know how he’ll react,” he said, looking down at the little girl. “Perhaps we should speak with him first before showing him the pup.”

“That’s probably a good idea,” her mother said, before turning to Aria. “Aria, love, mother needs you to wait here. I’ll be back shortly.”

“Yes mother,” Aria said, giving her mother a hug and sitting down on her chair like a good girl.

As the minutes passed, Aria began to get impatient. Surely her father wanted to meet her as badly as she wanted to meet him. Deciding to take matters into her own hands, she flapped her wings once for good luck and snuck out of the room.

Wandering through the dark and winding passages, Aria felt lost and a little scared. Looking up at the gem studded walls she marveled at the murals they contained. Several of them were stories she was familiar with. She wondered if any were about her father. Suddenly, she heard the angry voice of her mother speaking. Hearing her speaking so sternly made her freeze and she crouched down so she wouldn’t be spotted by anyfeather. Slowly she crept down the passage until she came to an intersecting passageway. Her father was right around the corner, she just knew it! Poking her head around it, she was disappointed to find just another empty corridor.

Unhappy that she hadn’t found her father yet, Aria was about to give up. Before she did she heard a low gravelly voice say something she couldn’t understand. Was he her father, she wondered. Then she heard her mother’s muffled reply. It was her father! She was so excited, she wondered if he would find her bow cute, and what color his feathers would be. Squealing with excitement, she hurried down the hall towards the source of their voices.

The passageway led out onto a balcony. Slowly she crept up and poked her tiny face up over the retaining wall. Down below her she saw her mother, several diamond dogs, a shadowy creature, and somefeather unlike any she had ever seen before.

Like her, he walked on two legs. She spied his arms and saw that he had hands, two of them, though one seemed strangely colored. When she saw his fingers, she counted them twice just to be sure and found that there were ten, just like her! He had to be her father, he just had to be. She was so sure of it. She was surprised to see he had no feathers at all, but instead wore what looked like the skin of a diamond dog on his shoulders. Trying to discover what his face looked like, she peered down and was disappointed that the crown on his head hid his face from her. The only thing she could see were a pair of burning green eyes, they seemed to be focused angrily on her mother for some reason.

She saw her mother approach him, with a pleading look in her eyes. Her father said something she couldn’t understand before pointing towards the exit. Her mother began weeping as she kneeled on the ground pleading with him. Aria saw her crying mother and suddenly felt angry, her father must have said something to upset her. She wanted to fly down there and give her mother a hug, but didn’t know how to fly yet. She watched as her father pointed once more towards the door, and saw her mother dejectedly leave the throne room.

Deciding she needed to get back to the waiting room, Aria quickly began backtracking as best she could. Trying desperately to get back to her seat before anyfeather found out, especially her mother. But try as she might, the twisty and winding passages were difficult to navigate. And soon Aria was completely lost. Afraid her mother might find out that she had disobeyed, she curled up into a little ball and cried.

“Pup, why do you weep?” a deep voice asked.

Looking up, Aria saw the largest and strangest looking diamond dog she had ever seen. Unlike the other diamond dogs, he was blue and she could see right through him. “Excuse me sir,” she said, “I’m lost and don’t know where to go.”

The diamond dog pushed his muzzle into Aria’s face and breathed in her scent deeply. “I see,” he said, giving her a gentle smile. “Lady Suzaku is your mother isn’t she?”

“Yes,” Aria said, wiping some tears away from her eyes, “I was supposed to meet my father today, but now I’m lost and all alone.”

“Well I’m here now,” he said, “so you’re no longer alone. And I know the palace, so as long as you’re with me you aren’t lost. Follow me, and we’ll get you to your mother before you know it”

“Okay,” Aria said, following closely besides her guide. “What’s your name?”

“I am called Scourge,” he said, plodding forward silently. “Little pup, what’s your name?”

“My name is Aria,” she said, with a slight smile.

“Then little Aria,” Scourge said, looking back at her over his shoulder, “follow me, and I’ll return you to your mother’s side.”

As the child and diamond dog moved through the empty and winding corridors, only the faint sound of Aria’s feet and breathing could be heard. Looking at her strange guide, she was overwhelmed with curiosity. Why did Scourge look so different from the other diamond dogs she’d met? Why was he blue? Why could she see through him? But most importantly, did he know her father? With so many questions running through her mind, Aria opened her mouth to say something, but stopped before she could speak.

“Little one, ask your question,” Scourge said, breaking the silence.

Plucking up the courage, Aria picked the most pressing question on her mind. “Do you know my father?” she asked, desperate to know if the person she had seen earlier was indeed her father.

“Has your mother told you who he is?” Scourge asked, before stopping at an intersection in their path.

“No,” Aria admitted, holding up her tiny hands. She counted her fingers once more to be sure. Ten, she had ten fingers just like the person she had seen on the balcony. “But she told me he had hands like mine.”

“My king has a hand just like yours,” Scourge said, “the other is gone. He lost it long ago.”

“Oh,” Aria said, not quite sure she understood what Scourge meant. “I hope he finds it soon.”

Scourge gave a low chuckle. “No, he lost it in battle,” he explained. “He wears a false arm now."

“I hope my father likes me,” Aria said, looking at Scourge hopefully.

“All parents love their children,” Scourge replied. “I’m sure your father is no exception.”

“Then why hasn’t he ever visited me before?” Aria asked, looking for an answer.

“We’re here little one,” Scourge announced, gesturing towards a room to their left.

“Thank you Scourge,” Aria said, giving the doomhound a small wave.

“Little one, be well,” Scourge replied, turning to head back the way he came.

Entering the room, Aria saw that she hadn’t been missed. Deciding to wait for her mother’s return, she sat back down on the chair in the musty room. Within minutes, her mother returned. Looking up at her mother’s face, she saw that her eyes were red and swollen from crying.

“Mother, are you alright,” Aria asked, concerned for her mother’s well-being.

“Yes, love,” her mother said, embracing her child. “The air in here is so dusty, it’s been making my eyes tear up.”

“So can I meet my father now?” Aria asked, excited to finally meet him.

“No Aria,” her mother said, “I’m afraid not. Your father is still not ready to meet you yet.”

Remembering the angry look the person on the throne had given her mother, Aria wanted to believe her, but knew deep down her father didn’t want to meet her. “I understand mother,” Aria said, doing her best to hide her hurt.

*****

The words of her master Scourge awoke her from her memory. “My pupil,” he asked once more. “What boon do you desire?”

“The one that he can’t give,” Aria bitterly said, looking at the hill their King was viewing the battle from.

“I’m sorry my pupil,” Scourge said, viewing the broken city.

“So am I Master Scourge, so am I,” Aria replied, grasping his armor as hard as she could with her two hands and ten fingers.

*****

“Look, there it is!” Melody the Yellow squealed with excitement, pointing towards the Slave King’s banner that was now raised over the port of Bone’s Landing. Removing her lute, she began plucking its strings as she sang a song commemorating his victory.

In the south, the doomhounds are vicious to a hound.

Get too close, and they’ll tear you apart anyway they can.

The watery knights of ole Triton, with tokens shinning bright…

Should ever face the shadow’s blades, they’ll quiver with such fright.

They’ll quiver with such fright…

Don’t forget the minotaurs, their hooves will trample you quite flat.

The griffins flying overhead, will rake you with their claws.

The seaponies of ole Triton, with scales that are quite wet…

Should ever face Scourge’s wrath, he’ll devour them in his maw.

He’ll devour them in his maw…

The feathered folk are quite a sight to behold, as they fly high overhead.

Should you chance to hear their songs, soon you’ll be quite dead.

The followers of ole Triton, and reindeer's of Cerynitis too…

Should chance upon the Slave King’s throne, they’ll soon know their doom.

They’ll soon know their doom…

“Melody, wonderful as always,” the Slave King said, folding his hands in his lap.

“It’s my pleasure, king daddy,” Melody replied, plucking a few more notes on her lute.

“Melody,” Harmony the Black growled. “It’s inappropriate to be so familiar with the Slave King.

“Aw, but sister…” Melody objected, before being silenced by the Slave King raising his finger.

The wind was beginning to pick up wildly. The Cloak of Darkpaw that the Slave King always wore on his shoulders was being pulled hard by a wild gust of wind. Far off in the distance, the Western Sea began getting choppy and the water took on brackish green color. In the distance a great water spout could be seen.

“Slave King?” Harmony said, looking towards the Slave King questioningly. Looking at the size of the water spout she knew exactly who it was, Lord Triton. He had come to exact his revenge against the Slave King, for attacking Bone’s Landing.

“Come Melody,” Harmony said, drawing upon the latent magic’s of the domains of fire and earth that flowed through her being. As the green and red energy coursed up and down her body, she flexed her wings once preparing to defend her king.

"Certainly sister,” Melody said, with a mischievous grin. “No one defies king daddy.”

“Be still,” the Slave King said, looking at both of them.

“My king, at least let us prepare our air defenses,” Harmony said, looking worriedly at the water spout that was coming closer to the beach.

“No Harmony, it will be all right,” the Slave King said, with a placid look on his face. “Prepare for Lord Triton’s arrival.”

“Yes, my king,” Harmony said, bowing slightly before flying off to greet Lord Triton on the beach.

“Melody, play something festive for me,” the Slave King said, leaning back into his great stone throne.

“Of course, my king,” Melody said, looking worriedly at her sister who was well on her way to the beach. Should Lord Triton decide to be vengeful, Harmony would be the first to know his wrath. As her fingers skillfully plucked the notes on her lute, she tried not worrying about her sister’s safety.

Seeing his harper’s worry, the Slave King placed a hand on her shoulder. “It’ll be all right,” the Slave King said. “Your sister is skilled and powerful, Lord Triton wouldn’t attack a mortal unprovoked.”

*****

On the beach Harmony waited patiently for Lord Triton’s arrival. As the waterspout drew nearer and nearer to her, she wondered what his first words to her would be. This was not the first time she had to deal with an angry deity before. In her line of work, she often had to act as an intermediary between the Slave King and some other member of the pantheon who was upset about something or other. However, this was the first time she feared for her own safety.

Officially the attack against Bone’s Landing had been by ‘The Order of Shadow’ and not the Slave King. Because it was mortals and not a fellow deity that had annoyed him, Lord Triton would be free to take out his anger on the servants of the Slave King and be considered well within his rights.

By now the wind was clawing at her clothes and feathers roughly, threatening to knock her off her feet. The waterspout was less than thirty lengths away now, and it was quite large. Within spitting distance of the shore the waterspout stopped and collapsed in on itself, leaving behind a calm sea.

“Welcome to the Domain of Earth, Lord Triton,” Harmony said with a bow. “The Slave King bids you welcome to his domain.”

The Western Sea frothed and boiled for a moment, before a stream of water spat itself out of the water and onto the beach in front of her. The water formed into a rather upset looking Lord Triton who glared down at Harmony with displeasure etched onto his face. When he saw that she was unfazed, he scowled and ground his teeth. “Take me to your father,” he demanded, giving the hill where the Slave King sat a dark look. “He and I have much to discuss.”

“The Slave King is expecting your arrival,” Harmony said, correcting the Lawgiver. “If you follow me, I will take you to him.

“So, does your father still refuse to acknowledge you and your siblings?” Lord Triton asked, floating behind his escort.

“I wouldn’t know,” Harmony tersely replied, “I’ve never met my father before.”

“But surely, who else but the Slave King could be your father?” Lord Triton countered, raising his brow questioningly.

“The Slave King has no children,” Harmony said, her ire towards the Lawgiver increasing by the second.

Thankfully they reached the Slave King’s throne before their conversation could continue. The Slave King sat on his throne with a smug smile as he listened to his harper playing a cheerful tune on her lute. Melody seeing her sister’s sour mood began replaying the tune from earlier. The Slave King looked at her, and silently chuckled as he motioned for her to quit playing. Harmony stopped mid chord, bowed once, before sticking her tongue out at the Lawgiver and retreated behind the Slave King’s throne.

“Slave King,” Harmony said, “I present to you Lord Triton the Lawgiver, Lord of Water.”

The Slave King raised his left hand and clenched it into a fist. Immediately a chair of stone rose from the ground, perfectly fit for the Lord of Water’s form. Looking at his fellow deity from under his iron crown, he peered at Lord Triton with his burning green eyes and gave him a cocky smile.

“Lord Triton,” the Slave King said, gesturing for his rival to sit. “It’s been far too long. Lawgiver, how have you been these past decades?”

Lord Triton saw the Slave King sitting within view of the burning city, his city. Bone’s Landing was home to nearly sixty thousand seaponies, reindeer, ponies, and other members of the assorted races. Looking at the Lord of Earth’s smug grin he wanted to strike him down for his insolence, and scream in anger at the human. What the hades did the ponies of Bone’s Landing do to deserve this unprovoked attack. How had he offended the Slave King, to earn such enmity? Was this a prelude to an all-out assault, or did he have something more sinister in mind.

Calming himself, Lord Triton tried his best to resist the urge to strangle the two faced fiend for his impudence. “Slave King,” he said, taking the seat and trying to keep a veneer of civility to his answers, “truly, it has been too long. Had I known you missed my company so, I would have brought forth my legions to entertain you.”

“Ah yes, the renowned ‘Most Illustrious Order of Triton the Lawgiver’,” the Slave King replied, motioning towards his banner fluttering in the breeze over the broken city. “I believe they entertained my ‘Order of the Shadow’ earlier today. I’ll have to ask Scourge if they provided him with much of a challenge.”

When he heard the Slave King mention ‘The Order of the Shadow’, Lord Triton’s face took on three shades of angry crimson. “There were nearly twenty thousand legionaries, and four thousand members of the order guarding the city,” he said, leaning down towards the Slave King. “I expect to have my ponies returned to me unharmed.”

The Slave King turned towards Melody. “What is the second law?” he said.

“The strong rule, the weak serve,” Harmony replied.

“And the third?” the Slave King asked her sister.

“Oh, I know!” Melody announced. “To the victor go the spoils.”

“And the fourth?” the Slave King said.

“Ten years, or ten labors,” Harmony and Melody said, one after the other.

Lord Triton was unimpressed with he heard the Slave King’s crude and unrefined laws. “And what, might I ask is the first law, on which all the other are predicated?” he asked the Slave King.

“Oh that one’s easy to remember,” the Slave King said. “All things above and beneath the Earth belong to me.”

Lord Triton knew exactly what the Slave King meant by his first law. He would use it as a means to take what he wished, and use it to shield himself from the consequences. “I’m afraid I can’t allow this to stand,” he said, rising from his seat.

“And who will aid you in your cause?” the Slave King retorted, gesturing to the empty beaches behind Lord Triton. “I see you have few in the way of any allies. Not even Lord Cerynitis deigned come support you in your hour of need.”

Before Lord Triton could respond to the Slave King taunt, a bright flash of light appeared between them. “Lord Triton doesn’t stand alone today, a voice filled with authority said.

“Princess Celestia, the Radiant” the Slave King said, with a voice dripping with sarcasm. “I didn’t know we had business.”

“Verily knave, we hast much to discuss with thee,” an angry feminine voice added.

“Of course, where there is light, the darkness soon follows,” the Slave King replied to her. “Isn’t that right Princess Luna the Beautiful?”

“Blackguard, why hast thou so rudely interrupted the peace between the domains?” Princess Luna demanded, her teal eyes flashing with the power of shadow and with wings that were flared and fully extended.

“You’ll address His Majesty as the Slave King, Your Highness!” Harmony said, getting between the deities. “You’ll be respectful, or you’ll be asked to leave.”

Princess Celestia bowed her head respectfully to the Slave King. “Slave King, please forgive my sister’s outburst,” she said, “If you’ll remember, she can be quite passionate.

“Indeed, I remember it well,” the Slave King replied, before casting an appraising look at her. “So tell me Celestia the Radiant, what do the Ladies of Day and Night wish of me?”

“They aren’t the only one who wishes to have words with you!” an upset female shouted from a ball of lightning that formed in front of the Slave King’s throne.

“So Lady Zephyr,” the Slave King said, placing his hands in his lap, “I take it you received my letter?”

But the only answer she gave was an angry scowl.

Author Notes:

Thank you gentlereader for reading chapter two of The Book of Water: The Marriage of the Slave King. As promised, I'm releasing the next chapter to celebrate being featured. Which couldn't be possible without your support, so once again thank you for reading.

Chapter 3: The Agreement, a Compromise That Pleases No One

The Book of Water: The Marriage of the Slave King

A Story by TalonMach5

Chapter 3: The Agreement, a Compromise That Pleases No One

With the introduction of the beastfolk clans, the nature of Equestrian politics has changed. With the exception of the princesses’ domain in central Equestria, most of the domains have but two great powers. Their prime element and the corresponding seasonal element that is subservient to it. Though the founding of the Beastmen’s Enclave is a relatively recent event, already a shift in the traditional power structure has occurred, with that power now mainly flowing south. As the Domain of Earth’s power increases, the rest of Equestria can only sit back and watch as the status quo slowly erodes. Traveling through this night of uncertainty we can only wonder, what will the dawn bring? Peace and prosperity, or war and chaos?

- Grandmaster Long Fei, Ink and Storms: A Treatise on the Evolving Nature of Interdomain Politics

Sitting on his great stone throne, he considered each of the owners of the four pairs of angry eyes staring back at him. Directly across from him sat a seapony stallion made of flowing water and kelp, glowering at him with deep blue eyes as unfathomable as the briny depths of the Western Sea. Lord Triton, or the Lawgiver, as he was most commonly known, had a deep rooted sense of justice. If he felt that he had been wronged, he would pursue the matter until he received a resolution that met with his satisfaction.

Standing to the Lawgiver’s left, were two powerful alicorn mares, Princess Celestia the Radiant, and her sister Luna the Beautiful. Each of them was as equally powerful as the other, and was capable of controlling the sun and moon respectively. He knew for all their power, they might threaten but would never risk going to war unless they had no other choice. While Luna wasn’t as even tempered as her sister, even she wouldn’t do any more then bluster.

However, it was the owner of a pair of furious sky blue eyes that gave him pause. Of all the creatures in Equestria, there were none more evenly matched to him than she. While he had power over the Earth, she held sway over the air. Because their Domains were in opposition to each other, they were intrinsically linked to one another. Though they had once shared a connection, of late that bond had grown threadbare. Once she had been his tentative ally, but due to a disagreement they had become estranged from each other. Looking into her eyes, he saw hurt and longing reflected back at him. While he might be able to placate the others, Lady Zephyr was another matter altogether. The true danger he now faced was allowing Celestia to learn the Lady of Air’s desires.

Studying each of the four other deities for a moment, the Slave King thoughtfully stroked his greying beard once. “Well, if a few more of us were here, this would be a moot,” he said sarcastically. “Lady Zephyr, if you would follow Harmony, we’ll see to your petition once I’ve finished with Lord Triton, Princess Celestia, and Princess Luna.”

“I won’t be pushed aside, while you play politics,” Lady Zephyr said, flaring her wings and opening her beak angrily at him.

“My dear, they were here first,” he said, pointing towards the others. “It would be rude of me to see you before them.”

“Oh, it’s my dear now, is it?” Lady Zephyr bitterly replied, feeling the old wounds on her wounded heart reopening. “Last time we spoke, you said, be gone from my sight woman!”

Hearing their spat, Celestia arched her brow questioningly. Walking between the Lord of Earth and Lady of Air, she lowered her horn to intercede. “Lady Zephyr, Slave King,” she said, with a slight smile. “I’m sure Lord Triton would be in agreement with me in allowing Lady Zephyr to go first. Her business seems to be of a more urgent nature then ours.”

Lord Triton saw the look of annoyance on the Slave King’s face and chuckled. “Quite right Princess Celestia,” he said, stroking his magnificent mustache with his fin. “I’ll withdraw for now.”

“Oh thank you, Lord Triton and Princess Celestia!” Lady Zephyr said, noticeably calming down. Turning her attention to the Slave King, she tapped her talons against the ground impatiently. “Tell me where he is this instant! I swear by the Golden Eyrie, if even one feather on his head has been harmed, not even the Pit will protect you from my wrath!”

The Slave King ground his teeth, annoyed that Princess Celestia had out maneuvered him this time. “Lady Zephyr,” he said, leaning forward on his throne looking into her worry filled eyes, “I assure you he’s quite all right.”

“To whom art thou referring?” Princess Luna asked, curious why the Slave King was being so vague.

“To Dawson, of the griffin-half tribe,” the Slave King said, before whispering something into Harmony’s ear.

Harmony nodded once before taking flight towards the baggage train, leaving the deities and her sister Melody behind.

“I hadn’t realized there were any griffin-halfs,” Lord Triton said, giving Lady Zephyr an inquisitive look. “I was only aware of the feathered folk, kobolds, and dragon-half clans.”

“I’ve not socialized much since his birth,” Lady Zephyr said, giving the Slave King an icy stare. “I was planning on bringing him to the next Grand Galloping Gala, to introduce my son to the other domains.”

“Well we look forward to hosting you and your son,” Princess Celestia said, appraising the Slave King carefully. “But will his father be attending with you as well?”

“Much like the other wayfarers,” she bitterly replied, “he abandoned me and refused to help care for our child.”

“The cad,” Princess Luna said disapprovingly, “what kind of monster would abandon their own foal?”

“The human kind,” Lord Triton spat. “It’s fortunate indeed they leave as quickly as they come. I’m grateful that none of my children have yet been sullied by their caustic influence.”

“That’s why I’ve created the Beastmen’s Enclave as a place of refuge for all the beastfolk tribes,” the Slave King said.

“That’s all well and good,” Lady Zephyr said, with a voice full of resentment and betrayal, “but that’s poor compensation for the lack of a father’s love.”

“Perhaps,” the Slave King coldly replied, “but that’s all I can offer them.”

*****

Gunhilde struggled in vain against the unyielding ropes that tightly bound her. “Tsch faen,” she cursed. “Let me go.”

“Keep yelling and I’ll gag you,” Dawson threatened, pointing a talon at his prisoner.

Suddenly Bucky felt his nose itch, while his right wing extended involuntarily. Oh, that meant somepony was in trouble with their parents, he thought, looking towards Gunhilde and Dawson. Now he was sure it wasn’t him, because he hadn’t seen either of them in over five years. Perhaps it was the battlemage? He wasn’t sure, but if her parents were anything like her, they would probably be upset she had gotten captured by the ponies guarding the provisions.

Speaking of provisions, I wonder what’s for dinner. I’d bet there’s going to be a victory feast! He thought excitedly, before his itchy nose and extended wing reminded him of why he was thinking about dinner in the first place. I wonder if it’s the Slave King, how scandalous! I wonder what he could have done to make his parents upset? But on the other hoof, maybe it’s Dawson. He didn’t seem very talkative about his folks. Maybe he ran away from home to go adventuring!

Bucky knew that unless he figured out who it was that was in trouble, he would spend all afternoon wondering who it might be. “So anypony make their parents upset recently?” he asked Gunhilde and Dawson, trying to deduce who it was that made his Bucky-sense go off.

“Go rot in the Pit, you pony mudslinger slave!” Gunhilde growled, before wincing in pain when Dawson yanked hard on her rope.

“What did I tell you harpy?” Dawson warned, Gunhilde shot him a hateful look in response, but fearful of being gagged remained quiet.

Dawson gave Bucky a conspiratorial look, “Well if my mother found out I was down here, she might be pretty steamed,” he said, right as a gale force wind rocked passed the hilltop they were standing on. Immediately, they looked towards the hill the Slave King was sitting on, and each of their eyes got wide for different reasons.

When Gunhilde saw Lord Triton standing before the Slave King, she openly wept with relief. She knew that wherever Lord Triton was, Lord Cerynitis was never far behind. Somedeer as honorable as him would never allow a maiden’s honor to be so cruelly violated by these barbarous mudslingers. Knowing that the Lawgiver would see justice done here today, she bound up her injured pride with patience, and bided her time.

When Dawson heard the angry gust of wind blow past them, he knew immediately who is was. When he saw the ball of lightning exploded in front of the Slave King, he felt dread in the pit of his stomach. She had come for him. Looking at Lady Zephyr’s face with his superior eyes, he suddenly felt the sting of homesickness in his heart. He could still remember the last thing he had told her, before leaving the Golden Eyrie. “Mother, I despise you!” he’d shouted at her in anger. Even now he longed to embrace her, to tell her he was sorry and didn’t mean what he’d said. But looking at the Slave King on his great stone throne, he knew he had to stand on his own two feet. If he didn’t, he would never be accepted. He decided then that he wouldn’t go back, not until he had won his father’s respect.

When Bucky looked up at the hill, he was surprised. Not only was the Slave King speaking with Lord Triton, he was also speaking with three other deities, namely Lady Zephyr, Princess Celestia, and Princess Luna. When he saw their loveliness he could scarcely believe his eyes. Gazing up at the princesses, he suddenly felt a longing for home he hadn’t felt in years. He thought about all the ponies he hadn’t seen in ages, and wondered if the unicorn that had sold him into slavery was still alive. But mostly, he thought about how supple both of the princesses’ flanks were, and how much he wished he had some bits to buy some time with somepony’s tent mare tonight.

Before any of them could speak, their surly minotaur sergeant approached them. “Hey Dawson!” Copper Hoof said, giving them and their battlemage prisoner a curious look.

“Yes, Sergeant Copper Hoof,” Dawson said, saluting the minotaur with his spear. “What is it?”

“Stow your gear soldier, it appears you’re either blessed or cursed. “But that all depends…” Sergeant Copper Hoof said, sucking on a stalk of grass.

“Depends on what?” Dawson asked, still distracted by the thoughts of his mother speaking with the Slave King.

“Depending on whether the Slave King is in a good or foul mood,” his sergeant said with a good natured laugh. Looking down, he saw a weeping Gunhilde looking up at the Slave King’s hill. “So calves, what’s the story with this battlemage?”

“Oh, she was trying to sneak past us and flank the baggage train,” Bucky said with a wide grin. “But Dawson and I taught her the true worth of a bunch of mudslingers in battle.”

When sergeant Copper Hoof heard Bucky, he laughed. “That you did soldier!” he agreed, marking something down on a slate he kept in his satchel. “You’ve brought honor and glory to the Shadow Hooves. We might not be able to fight in the front like the ‘Order of the Shadow’, but we always have the Slave King’s back.”

When he heard his sergeant praising him, Bucky beamed with pride. “Sergeant, I was only doing my duty,” he said. “I was protecting my squad.”

“Since the both of you caught our little ice witch,” the minotaur said with hint of pride, “you’ll both present her before the Slave King, the first spoils of our hard fought victory.”

Dawson’s shoulders drooped when he thought of confronting both his mother and the Slave King simultaneously. Though he desperately wanted to prove himself, he still felt guilty for how he had last spoken with her. He wondered how she might feel, knowing he’d played a part in the conquest of one of her ally’s cities?

“Buck up soldier,” Sergeant Copper Hoof barked, when he saw Dawson’s troubled face. “I expect you to present yourself before the Slave King and extoll the tale of how you subdued his enemy. Remember, you’re a Shadow Hoof. I expect you to not embarrass us before the king.”

Dawson nodded once, and gave the rope around Gunhilde’s neck a tug. “Prisoner, get up,” he said. “If you bite me as I fly you over to be presented before the Slave King, I swear by the first egg, I will drop you!”

Saying nothing, Gunhilde nodded meekly to her captor. She didn’t care, soon these mudslinger barbarians would be the ones wearing chains when Lord Triton was through with them. Standing uneasily on her bruised and shaking legs, she followed Dawson, Bucky, and their minotaur sergeant towards a strikingly beautiful feathered folk woman. Her plumage and wings were dark like some foreboding storm cloud on the distance. On her face, her delicate features were accentuated by a pair of vivid green eyes that glowered impatiently. Seeing the Slave King’s brand engraved on the medallion she wore around her neck, Gunhilde surmised this must be Harmony the Black, the Slave King’s court mage.

Of all the deer that Gunhilde knew were among the Slave King’s forces, Harmony was among the most feared. She thought that the mage might be the one who would be tasked with breaking her. Thinking about the torments the feathered folk might inflict on her, made her shiver with fright. She’d almost prefer being a tent doe for a bunch of drunken soldiers. At least they might stop using her eventually. Afraid of giving Harmony a reason for anger, she refused to look the powerful mage in the eye.

When Harmony saw the sergeant leading the griffin-half, a pegasus, and a bound reindeer battlemage, she scowled. “Sergeant,” she said through clenched teeth. She was starting the effects of the stress from having to deal with so many demanding deities and her anger at having to deal with their nonsense beginning to take its toll on her sanity. “Why have you brought me the others?”

“Magister, protocol demands it,” Sergeant Copper Hoof replied, shaking his horns once.

“Protocol?” Harmony questioned, not liking the sergeant’s tone.

“Exactly,” Sergeant Copper Hoof said, unwilling to give her an inch.

Harmony knew exactly what was going to happen next. The minotaur would drone on about proper procedure and army regulations, and how he couldn’t release the griffin-half without insisting that the pegasus and prisoner be required to come as well. Exhausted with having to deal with an agitated Lord Triton, a tempestuous Lady Zephyr, and a demanding Princess Luna, she decided not to argue the point and agree with the sergeant’s demand. “By the Slave King’s iron crown,” she growled under her breath, “somefeathers are so difficult to deal with.”

“Very well…” Harmony groused, unhappy that she had yet another possible problem to deal with, “they can all come. But if the Slave King’s annoyed by the addition of these two, I’m sending Scourge to have a word with you.”

“Magister,” Sergeant Copper Hoof saluted, “they are members of the Shadow Hooves, and they’ll do their unit and our king proud.

“You two!” Harmony barked, snapping her fingers at Dawson and Bucky. “Carry the prisoner, and follow me. Don’t make me regret allowing this.”

“Yes, magister!” Dawson and Bucky said, grabbing the rope binding Gunhilde, and preparing to take off into the air to present themselves before the Slave King.

Stretching out her black wings, Harmony took to the sky. Looking over her shoulder, she saw the two soldiers dutifully following behind her. Sighing to herself, she could imagine twelve different ways this audience could go horribly, horribly, wrong. And if it did, not only would she have to deal with the Slave King’s displeasure, she’d also have to suffer through her sister Melody’s relentless teasing once again. It was times like this when she envied her elder sister Aria’s job as the leader of the Shadow Wings. Though being the court mage was a prestigious position, and she was considered by some a magical prodigy. Her sister, Aria the Red, never had to deal with delicate diplomatic situations like this.

“Lord Raiden, give me patience,” Harmony muttered to herself, as the small group approached the hill where the Slave King and Lady Zephyr waited for her return.

*****

Scourge was walking through the rubble filled streets while admiring the Slave King’s newest acquisition. Looking to either side of him, he was pleased the city seemed none the worse for the wear. After several months of martial law, he was sure that the city’s valuable trade routes would reopen. And after a few years, the citizenry would finally acclimate to their new diamond dog overlords. Looking at the Western Sea thoughtfully, he was sure a response from Lord Triton would be forthcoming, most likely in the way of a visit from ‘The Most Illustrious Order of Triton the Lawgiver’.

Though Scourge felt Triton’s order of errant knights were rather full of themselves, he recognized their martial competence on the battlefield. Had they been able to respond in time, it’s quite possible that the battle might not have gone as well as it had for them. Looking out over the city’s harbor, he could see the choppy green water angrily frothing. If anything, the Lawgiver was probably well aware of the attack and on his way to confront his king. Wherever the Lawgiver treads, Rimefrost will soon follow, or so the saying goes, he mused to himself.

Before he could continue his preliminary inspection of the city’s defenses, he noticed his pupil Aria above him. “Master Scourge!” she cried, circling overhead looking for a good spot to land. “Lord Triton is confronting the Slave King as we speak.”

“My pupil, the Slave King is not some weak little pup in need of being watched over,” Scourge chided his student. “It’s expected that the Lawgiver would make an appearance sooner rather than later. We’d best prepare for his knights arrival, they are the more pressing concern.”

“Lord Triton did not come alone,” Aria said, landing softly beside her master.

“Let me guess, old Rimefrost is there giving the Slave King the evil eye?” Scourge said with a chuckle.

“No, Lord Cerynitis didn’t accompany the Lawgiver here,” Aria said with alarm in her voice.

“Then who is it?” Scourge asked with a frown, now feeling more concerned for his master’s well-being.

“Our king faces none other than Princess Celestia and Princess Luna, with only my sisters to act as a buffer!” Aria said, feeling agitated that the Slave King had little to defend himself with.

“Hmm…” Scourge mused, digging his arcanum claws into the pavement. “The Slave King has little to worry about then. Neither of the princesses would dare risk an incident with the Domain of Earth. Our armies patrol our northern border, and the gem trade is too critical to their economy for them to try a military resolution with us.”

“That’s not all,” Aria said, looking back at the hill where the Slave King’s throne sat. “They aren’t the only deities that came.”

“Who else could have possibly come?” Scourge replied, puzzled why anyhound else would bother with this. Lady Minoa detests the Lawgiver, Lord Ouroboros lies in torpor, Lord Raiden cares nothing for the wars of the others, and your mother would never ally against us.”

“Lady Zephyr is here, and she looks livid!” Aria replied, flapping her wings a few times to test them.

“If Lady Zephyr is here, then this can’t be good,” Scourge said, rolling his shoulders. “My pupil, do you have the strength to carry me to our king?”

“Of course Master Scourge,” Aria said, climbing on top of her master’s back and extending her wings. “I have strength to spare.”

“Then let us see to our king’s defense,” Scourge growled, before turning towards several minotaurs that were busy looting a house. “Hey you lot, drop what you’re doing and get to manning the city’s defenses! Spread the word. Be prepared for an assault from the sea.”

When they heard his order, the minotaurs dropped the valuables they had in their hands, “Yes, Master Scourge,” they said in unison, as they left to spread the word to the rest of the army.

“Now fly my student,” Scourge said, looking up at her. “The Slave King has need of us.”

“Yes Master Scourge,” Aria said, lifting herself into the air as she carried her master with her arms.

*****

“You two, stay here and keep an eye on the prisoner,” Harmony ordered Dawson and Bucky, as she though about how she was going to explain this to the Slave King.

“Yes magister,” they said, while Gunhilde looked everywhere. Desperately she sought out the Lawgiver, hoping he would free her from this disgrace.

Dawson saw his mother looking directly at him. He could see a mixture of both relief and anger on her face. Though he longed to speak with her, he decided he would follow protocol and wait to be dismissed by the Slave King.

Harmony cautiously approached the Slave King’s throne, where the assembled deities were waiting for her return. “Slave King,” she said with a small bow. “I’ve brought you the griffin-half, but there’s been a complication.”

“What is it?” the Slave King asked, gripping his throne’s armrest.

“His sergeant demanded that protocol required that he and his companion be allowed to present their spoils to you,” Harmony said, gesturing towards Dawson, Bucky, and Gunhilde.

At the mention of spoils, Lord Triton noticed the bound battlemage and bristled with anger. Though the doe wasn’t a member of his order, she was still an ally and had fought to defend his city from the invaders. “Slave King, I object!” he said, pointing towards Gunhilde. “That battlemage isn’t a bag of bits you can give away piecemeal. She’s a deer, a living being that deserves to be treated with dignity. I demand the doe be released immediately.”

Gunhilde looked up at Lord Triton with gratitude. She knew her faith in the Lawgiver was well placed, he wouldn’t allow the injustice of her imprisonment to go unanswered.

“Prisoners of war have little to say in how they are treated,” the Slave King retorted, while giving the Lawgiver a look of utter disdain. “I’d suggest telling your knights that, or hope they lose no more battles. But it’s not for me to decide the prisoner’s fate. Soldiers, come forward and present yourselves.”

“Yes, Slave King,” Bucky and Dawson said, bowing respectfully before his great stone throne.

Dawson walked forward and saluted him with his spear. “Slave King, I am Dawson of the Golden Eyrie, and I come offering you the spoils of war.”

Following his companion’s example, once Dawson finished speaking Bucky trotted forward and flared his wings. “Slave King, I am Bucky, a slave, and I come offering you the spoils of war.”

“Soldiers, stand and be recognized, I accept your offering,” the Slave King said, gesturing for them to stand up. “Tell me slave Bucky, and Dawson of the Golden Eyrie, how you came by the prisoner, when you were assigned to guard the baggage train and not to participate in the battle.”

“Slave King,” Bucky said, “it all started when my right ear began twitching. Because you know when your right ear twitches, that means someone’s trying to get the drop on you.”

When the Slave King heard the pegasus explain the importance of a twitching ear, he looked at him with curiosity. “I was unaware of the significance,” he said, touching his own ear. “But please, continue.”

“Well…” Bucky said, “after feeling my ear twitch, I felt my back get a bit itchy and knew an attack was imminent. Looking up I saw something in the clouds, and I advised Dawson to watch his back.”

The Slave King looked thoughtfully at Dawson as he pulled on his beard. “Dawson of the Golden Eyrie, what happened next?”

“I looked up at what Bucky had pointed to and took to the skies to confront it,” Dawson said, recounting the events as best he could remember.

“So you abandoned your post, and left the baggage train unguarded?” the Slave King pointedly asked.”

“No,” Dawson said. “I thought it would be best to check if we were going to be ambushed.”

“Did you alert your sergeant, you were leaving?” the Slave King asked.

“No,” he said. “There wasn’t the time. I might have lost the enemy in the cloud cover if I had stopped to alert anyfeather else.”

“Yet, you thought there was the possibility of an ambush,” the Slave King pointed out. “Why didn’t you alert someone, before flying off?”

“The thought hadn’t crossed my mind,” Dawson admitted. “I just wanted a chance to prove myself, and took the opportunity when it presented itself.”

“Slave Bucky,” the Slave King said. “Where were you in all this?”

“I was a bit surprised, when I saw Dawson take off after the dark shape above us,” he said. “I was about to alert the sarge, when I felt my hooves get all pinchy and knew Dawson was about to get ambushed. So I took off after him.”

“What happened?” the Slave King asked. “Did he end up getting ambushed?”

“Not exactly,” Bucky replied, thinking back to the fight. “Dawson was moving pretty fast, and I managed to bump him, knocking him off course before the spell could hit him. Fortunately the ice shards the prisoner cast only grazed him.”

“It seems fortunate for Dawson of the Golden Eyrie, that you followed him,” the Slave King said.

“Well,” Bucky replied, “I knew I was no match for a reindeer battlemage, since I didn’t have a long reaching weapon like Dawson, so I tried grabbing the enemy’s attention in the hopes that he could get the drop on them before I got frozen.”

“Tell me Dawson of the Golden Eyrie,” the Slave King said, “what did you do when slave Bucky got the battlemage’s attention?”

“Well, I saw that the reindeer was now casting only at Bucky,” Dawson said, thinking about how he had gotten the drop on Gunhilde, “so I gained some altitude, and dived at her from the angle of the sun to conceal my attack.”

“That seems rather foolhardy,” the Slave King replied. “Reindeer battlemages are renowned for their ice shields. You could have easily been dispatched by the enemy ice shield, and slave Bucky would have been easy prey for her.”

“I was hoping to stun her with my attack,” Dawson said, defending his choice of tactics. “When I hit her, a spell she was casting misfired knocking us out of the air.”

“Didn’t the battlemage attempt using her magic against you in retaliation?” the Slave King asked.

"She did,” Dawson replied, “but I grabbed a hold of her antlers to prevent her from casting.”

“Grabbing a hold of her antlers without wearing any magical protection must have hurt like hades,” the Slave King remarked.

“The magical feedback stunned both myself and the battlemage,” Dawson admitted.

“Then why didn’t both of you fall to your deaths?” the Slave King asked.

“Well, we fell a bit before we both regained our senses,” Dawson explained. “I tried using my wings to slow our descent, but was finding it difficult.”

“Why didn’t you drop the prisoner to save yourself,” the Slave King asked. “It would have been the prudent thing to do.”

“I wasn’t about to lose my hard won prize,” Dawson said. “A battlemage would be a valuable prisoner.”

“But your prize would be worth nothing to you, if you had perished,” the Slave King pointed out. “So how did you end up surviving the encounter?”

Dawson looked sheepishly at Bucky, “Ah, Bucky grabbed a hold of me at the last moment and used his wings to help slow our descent,” he said.

“So let me recount what exactly happened,” the Slave King said. “Feel free to stop me if I miss anything. First, you abandoned your post thinking there might be an ambush against the very baggage train you were supposed to guard, without alerting anyone about your suspicions because you felt there was no time. Second, you narrowly avoided the very ambush you wanted to stop, but only because slave Bucky decided to follow after you. Third, after being rescued by slave Bucky, you allowed him to face alone the very battlemage he had just rescued you from.”

When Dawson heard the Slave King’s unflattering description of his encounter with Gunhilde, made his face flush red with embarrassment. His first meeting with the Slave King was nothing like he had hoped it might be.

“Fourth,” the Slave King continued, “in an attempt to catch the battlemage unawares, you launched an attack from the sun that while useful for ambushing others, would have left your flank vulnerable if the battlemage had any friends. Fifth, instead of successfully ambushing the battlemage, instead you end up incapacitated by grabbing a fully charged pair of antlers. Sixth, instead of dropping the enemy to recover yourself, and then trying to save the prisoner, you recklessly plummeted to your death in the vain hope of gaining renown. Did I recount things accurately, Dawson of the Golden Eyrie?”

“Yes, Slave King,” Dawson meekly said. “But we captured the battlemage, isn’t that worth something?”

“Yes,” the Slave King replied. “The fact your gamble paid off and you have the spoils to show for it, is the only reason you’re not getting a ration for your dereliction of duty.”

"Slave Bucky,” the Slave King said. “What’s your number?”

“Seven of ten, Slave King,” Bucky replied.

“Considering you saved Dawson of the Golden Eyrie’s life, and captured an enemy soldier,” the Slave King replied, “I think that’s worth two. Combined with today’s battle, makes three. Bucky you’re no longer a slave, you’re free to go.”

“Slave King, thank you,” Bucky said, happy that he was now a free pony.

“What about me?” Dawson asked.

“What about you?” the Slave King dismissively said. “You pledged yourself for today’s battle. The battle’s over now.”

“I was hoping I could pledge myself as a member of ‘The Order of the Shadow’,” Dawson replied.

“I’m afraid I have no use for you,” the Slave King said, shaking his head. “Besides, your mother has come to collect you.”

“But, I…” he tried saying before being silenced by a stern look from the Slave King.

Turning towards Lady Zephyr, the Slave King gestured towards a crestfallen and dejected looking Dawson. “I have returned your son to you, none the worse for the wear,” he said.

“Thank you Slave King,” Lady Zephyr said, looking at her son with relief. “Dawson, come to me. We’re going home.”

“No mother, I can’t yet,” he said, refusing to accept the Slave King’s rejection. Spreading his black and blue wings, he took off into the air and flew away from her.

“Dawson, come back here this instant!” Lady Zephyr shouted after her wayward child.

She was about to take flight after her son, when the Slave King placed a hand on her shoulder. “Let the boy be,” he said. “He’s disappointed and upset. Let him cool his heels for a bit. I’ll send Melody after him, to make sure he doesn’t get into any trouble.”

“Slave King, thank you,” Lady Zephyr said, embracing him tenderly, much to his embarrassment.

“Melody, make sure Lady Zephyr’s son doesn’t get into any trouble,” the Slave King instructed his harper.

“Sure thing, king da…” Melody said, before being interrupted by an angry look from Harmony. “I mean sure thing, Slave King.”

Melody placed her lute on her back, stretched out her golden wings, and took flight trailing after Dawson, making sure she kept her distance from the surly griffin-half.

Looking at the miserable looking doe behind her, Harmony turned towards the Slave King. “What about the prisoner?” she asked, approaching the Slave King’s newest acquisition.

“She’s being released, as are all the other prisoners of this cowardly attack,” Lord Triton demanded.

“The prisoner belongs to the ones who captured her,” the Slave King said. “Bucky, since your companion isn’t here, you alone will decide her fate.”

Although he was free now, Bucky was still penniless. Selling the battlemage to somepony, would surely make him a lot of bits. Looking down at Gunhilde, he remembered how pitiful she looked when she cried when she heard how she would end up mining gems. He also remembered when she bit his leg, when he tried showing her a little kindness. Looking towards Princess Celestia and Princess Luna, he saw on their muzzles looks of concern for him as he pondered his prisoner’s fate. Knowing there was only one course of action he could take, he decided to do the right thing.

“I’m letting Lord Triton have her,” Bucky said, much to the relief of the princesses who were worried that living in the Domain of Earth had corrupted the pegasus.

“I thank you pony,” Lord Triton said, relieved that he could free the doe from her bonds.

“For one thousand bits,” Bucky continued, “otherwise I’m selling her to the highest bidder in the slave market.”

“No!” wailed Gunhilde, when she realized she wasn’t going to be freed.

“This is an outrage!” Lord Triton shouted, incensed that this pony had the audacity to try selling a living being to him. “The Domain of Water will not buy what is ours by right.

“Bucky, this is not the pony way,” Princess Celestia said, saddened that one of her subjects would willingly sell another into bondage.

“Verily,” Luna agreed. “Were thou not a slave but a moment previous? Thy soul shoulds’t be filled with discomfiture for such depravity. Tis within thy power to save her from sharing a similar fate, shoulds’t thou choose.”

“Yes, I was a slave for nearly five years,” Bucky replied, filled with anger at the deities who thought to rebuke him. “My entire family was sold into slavery by a unicorn noble, to repay their debts. I suppose you consider that the pony way?”

“I’m sorry Bucky for what happened to you, I truly am,” Celestia said, remorseful that such behavior still occurred in her domain. “I try my best to prevent such things from happening, but sometimes some ponies do wicked things.”

“I don’t blame you for what happened,” Bucky said. “But if you really wanted to, you could free every slave serving in the Slave King’s army right here if you chose. Don’t demand I do something, which you yourself refuse to do.”

“Thou knowest truly, that if we should move against the Slave King the consequences wouldst be dire,” Princess Luna said, before being silenced by a look from Princess Celestia.

“I commend you Bucky,” the Slave King said. “It’s not often I see a mortal outmaneuver self-righteous deities by using their own arguments against them. So Lord Triton, do you take the pegasus’s fair offer or not?”

“I refuse to deal with fleshmongers,” Lord Triton angrily said. “To think Princess Celestia, that your ponies would act so debased, it sickens me.”

“It shames me that some of my ponies still willingly sell others,” she said with remorse.

“Bucky, I’ll buy her from you for two thousand bits,” the Slave King offered.

“Sold!” Bucky cheerfully exclaimed, happy to get so much money.

The Slave King clenched his fist, and out from the ground at Bucky’s hooves sprung a small pile of bits. Seeing them, he quickly scooped them up and placed them into his saddlebag, and flew off after Dawson to give him his cut.

“Bucky, enjoy your new found freedom,” the Slave King called after the former slave as he flew off. Turning his attention towards Lord Triton he shook his head. “Lawgiver, it was such a paltry sum. You could have swallowed your pride, and freed the frightened mortal. But now, she, like the defenders and citizens of Bone’s Landing, belong to me.”

“I could raise the sea, drowning your army. My people would survive,” Lord Triton growled, with eyes flashing with blue energy as he prepared to draw upon his domain.

“I could poison and choke your sea with the molten metals from the Earth,” the Slave King countered. “And Celestia the Radiant could turn all Equestria into a burning desert, or Luna the Beautiful could turn it into nothing but a frozen wasteland. Lord Triton, there’s no point in us threatening each other with things we aren’t actually prepared to do.”

“Bone’s Landing belongs to the Domain of Water,” Lord Triton said. “My people took a small fishing settlement and transformed it into a major trade hub.”

“Yes they did,” The Slave King agreed. “Your people took Bone’s Landing by force, a settlement lying inside the Domain of Earth, a settlement founded and built by Diamond Dogs. The city rests on the bones of their ancestors.”

“That was over eight hundred years ago!” Lord Triton protested. “Lord Darkpaw and I came to an understanding regarding the ownership of the settlement. The Domain of Earth has no legal claim over it.”

“Lord Triton,” the Slave King darkly said, “I am not Darkpaw. He might have been content to allow you to run roughshod over his domain, but I am not.”

“Then why have you not said anything?” Princess Celestia said, thinking of several of her own settlements that lied within the Domain of Earth’s territory.

“Because that would have weakened my bargaining position,” he answered. “Lord Triton, would you have returned Bone’s Landing had I asked for it?”

“Truthfully no,” he honestly replied. “Had I known you desired to regain the city, I would have increased its defenses significantly.”

“Is thy mind wood? Dost thou expecteth us to accept thy serpentine sophistry?” Princess Luna asked, her eyes burning with magical energy. “Perchance, what wilst preventeth thee from engaging in similar mischief in the future?”

“Because to my east, lies Lord Ouroboros’s domain,” the Slave King said, forming a map of Equestria on the ground with his power. “He has nothing I desire. To the west lies the Western Sea, beyond a few scattered island settlements I have no claim to anything within Lord Triton’s territory. And to the north I have no quarrel. Besides, I don’t attack family.”

When she remembered their temporary marriage alliance, her cheeks turned crimson. “Very well Slave King, we shall take thee by thy word that thou hast no further ambitions towards our dominions.”

“Princess Luna,” Lord Triton said, “while you might be willing to overlook the capture of Bone’s Landing, I most certainly am not. I demand satisfaction, which I will get one way or the other.”

“Slave King,” Celestia said, looking at him sternly, “due to your youth, the pantheon has given you much leeway in how we allow you to conduct yourself. Unless you can peacefully resolve this issue with Lord Triton, I’ll have no choice but to invoke a moot, letting the entire pantheon vote to resolve this matter.”

When the he heard her threat of invoking a moot, for the first time during this meeting he felt apprehension. With so many of his fellow deities still holding grudges against him, and Lord Triton still held in relatively high esteem despite what happened last time, any decision the pantheon would reach would most certainly not be in his favor. In fact, he was sure the pantheon might just try adding punitive measures against him. While he considered himself quite clever, he was no Jormungandr, Ananse, or even Discord.

Though Jormungandr might have been his ally previously, there was no guarantee their next encounter would go the same way. As for Discord, he might consider aiding him, but the Slave King was pretty sure Discord might side against him in hopes that he might go rogue and sow some more chaos. And as far as Ananse was concerned, though they lived on separate continents, the Soul Weaver considered the Slave King an aberration to his great weave, and any chance he had to constrain his ambitions was considered a good thing.

“Very well Celestia the Radiant,” the Slave King said, bowing his head in defeat, “I’m not unreasonable. Lord Triton, in exchange for all those my army captured, I’ll release them if you forswear any claim to Bone’s Landing.”

“But Bone’s Landing is the southern gateway to the Zebrakan trade routes,” Lord Triton protested. “If I lose the city, I also lose all the lucrative trade as well. It will be a large blow to the Marelantis economy.”

“You still control four other large ports on Equestria’s shores, including one other in my domain” the Slave King pointed out, “plus numerous islands that traders use for way stations. Your economy will eventually adapt.”

“Lord Triton,” Princess Celestia pleaded. “Don’t allow your pride to stop you from freeing your ponies. Remember what happened with the battlemage.”

Looking down at the crying doe, his heart was pricked with compassion. He would not allow this to happen to the citizens of Bone’s Landing or to his good and faithful knights. Though it would cost him dearly, he would save them from the cruelty of the Slave King.

“Though it vexes me to no end, I accept your offer,” Lord Triton said. “However, I have conditions.”

“What are they?” the Slave King asked, studying the Lawgiver carefully.

“First, that any valuables taken from the city be returned to their proper owners,” Lord Triton said, pointing towards the smoking city. “Second, the seapony citizens are allowed to remain unmolested by your soldiers. Third, a garrison of my knights will be allowed to remain in the city. Fourth, I’ll recognize the ownership of the city as belonging to the Earth, but you’ll recognize that my seaponies have built it into the trade hub that it is today. Meaning, all trade will continue to flow uninterrupted by any in your domain.”

The Slave King considered Lord Triton’s proposal. While the condition of having a garrison stationed in the city was distasteful, they would at least allow the citizenry to feel comfortable enough to resume their normal routines. Leaving the seaponies in their homes, and the uninterrupted flow of trade would actually facilitate his goals, so he was fine with that. However, no loot for his army might actually prove problematic, captured prisoners and looting was considered big perks of serving in the Slave King’s army. Perhaps giving everyone an extra credit towards their ten along with a large victory celebration, would assuage his men’s anger. Looking down at the battlemage cowering at his feet he chuckled, it looks like she would be the only spoils of this campaign.

“Alright Lord Triton,” he reluctantly said, “you drive a hard bargain. But I’ll agree to your terms, with the exception of the garrison.”

“Slave King, the garrison is to guarantee that you’ll keep your word,” Lord Triton replied, giving the Slave King a baleful look.

“I agree with you, plus having some of your knights in the garrison will provide a calming reassurance to the citizenry,” the Slave King said.

“Then what’s the problem?” Lord Triton asked, perplexed by the Slave King’s objection.

“Any of your troops garrisoned inside the city must be under the command of whoever I assign to run the city,” the Slave King said.

“That’s out of the question,” Lord Triton said, unhappy with the thought of some devious diamond dog mongrel ordering his knights to do nefarious deeds. “I won’t ask my knights, each of which has sworn sacred oaths to defend the weak, protect the innocent, and be virtuous to take orders from dishonorable blackguards.”

“Gentlestallions,” Princess Celestia said, hoping to help them reach a compromise, “perhaps I could assist you. Allow me to send some of my ponies to the cities garrison, and together we’ll choose a garrison commander to run things.”

The Slave King grimaced. Princess Celestia could never let an opportunity to interfere pass her by. He knew she would try undermining the slave trade she so detested whenever possible, having a presence in the garrison would aid her greatly in that respect. Though when he considered the added benefit of greater numbers of ponies making the city even more profitable than before, it blunted the bitter edge of having the local slave trade interfered with.

“Alright Celestia the Radiant, I’ll accept some of your ponies as members of the city’s garrison,” he said.

Princess Celestia’s ears worriedly laid back against her head, why had the Slave King so readily agreed to her suggestion? Try as she might, she couldn’t determine the hidden angle he was playing. Though she admired him for his sharp mind, good instincts, and piercing intellect, she hated having him as an opponent due to his unpredictable nature. She would be glad once his five hundredth year had arrived, then she would be able to finally use means prohibited to her previously to help smooth off some of his rougher edges. Looking towards Lord Triton, she waited to see what he would say before responding.

Lord Triton sighed once, before approaching the Slave King, “Though it greatly pains me to do so, I’ll agree to the compromise Princess Celestia offered,” he said, offering the Slave King his fin.

“I’m glad we could come to an arrangement before anymore unpleasantness could occur,” the Slave King said, taking the offered fin and shaking it once. “But Celestia, I do have a small request regarding the ponies you’ll be sending to man the garrison.”

“Oh what’s that?” Princess Celestia asked, while inwardly thinking, aha, the other horseshoe is finally dropping.

“I’d prefer none of your regular soldiers,” he said. “I’d like all of them to be members of Luna the Beautiful’s Twilight Knights.”

“For what reason?” Princess Luna asked, curious as to why anypony would prefer her Twilight Knights to Celestia’s regular soldiers.

“All my servants are attuned to shadow magic,” the Slave King explained, “because Lord Triton’s order is as well, all members of the garrison will also need to be attuned to the shadow. Otherwise they won’t be able to tread the secret paths of the Earth.”

“I see…” Princess Celestia mused. Though it made sense and was a perfectly legitimate request, she still tried deciphering the Slave King’s true purpose. After some minutes, she decided she would have to discuss her reservations with her sister later. “Alright Slave King, I see no problem with your requirements. Sister, are you agreeable to lending some of your Twilight Knights to the garrison?”

"Verily, mine sister,” Princess Luna serenely said. Even though her face appeared cool and placid, beneath her mask she was as giddy as a filly.

Finally, she could do something her sister could not. Though she didn’t like admitting it to herself, of late she’d been feeling some resentment towards the veneration her sister was constantly receiving from everypony. Even now, she was sure when the Slave King’s five hundredth inaugural celebration was held, Lord Triton would herald her sister as his people’s savior for brokering the end of the conflict. They would all say, Thank Equestria, Celestia was there, or Celestia, marvelous job keeping the peace. How do you always manage it?, and even You’re so wise, Celestia.

Though she loved her sister dearly, Luna just wished somepony would appreciate all she did for everypony. Though most ponies didn’t know it, Celestia’s negotiating skills hinged on her own brusque and passionate style of speaking. She was always the proverbial stick to her sister’s carrot, and they were so masterful by now most ponies didn’t seem to notice it. Nopony but the Slave King that is. Unlike the others, he never offered deference to her sister or to anypony else for that matter.

It must be his youthful vigor, she said to herself. Comparing the Slave King to Lord Cerynitis, she noted some similarities in their dispositions. Thinking back over the centuries, she wondered what might have happened had Celestia not requested an annulment to their marriage.

All that power he wields could have been yours… a voice whispered in the back of her mind. With somepony like the Slave King at your side, all the devotion and admiration his subjects offer him would be yours…

But we abhor all that he stands for, she vehemently protested, unsure why she was having such thoughts towards somepony as terrible as the Slave King. We desire love and devotion, not fear and terror!

When you have nothing, is it not better to be feared than forgotten? the voice tempted.

We could never live thusly, t’would be against all we strive for! she shouted. We desire harmony above all else.

Poor little Luna… the voice said with concern. It’s so easy to love harmony, when everypony loves you… Like they do Celestia…

Enough! We shall not bear such wicked thoughts any further, she declared, eschewing the voice’s temptations. We shall be satisfied with our lot.

“Lord Triton, Slave King, I’m so glad we could come to an agreement that benefits everypony,” Celestia said, drawing Luna away from her thoughts.

“Yes it was, Princess Celestia,” Lord Triton said through his tightly clenched teeth. He was clearly unhappy that he would never be able to get his city back, but on the whole it could have been worse. “Slave King, I take it that we’ll hammer out the details of our arrangement after your inaugural celebration?”

“I suppose that will be fine, Lord Triton,” he said, before turning towards Luna. “I thank you for being so agreeable to lending your Twilight Knights to this endeavor. Things would have been unmanageable otherwise.”

“We are glad our Twilight Knights were able to prevent any further bloodshed,” Luna said, with a slight blush as she thought of the images that the voice had shown her. “Slave King, we expect them to be well treated.”

Looking at Luna the Slave King was mystified, why would she be blushing? “I assure you, Luna the Beautiful,” he said, “they will be treated the same as any of my own knights.

“We look forward to attending your inaugural celebration,” Princess Celestia said wearing a gentle smile. “Your five hundredth year is quite a prestigious occasion. Have you anything planned?”

“The Earth, will be as it always has been, it shall subsist,” the Slave King replied, feeling annoyed by the loss of so many new slaves. Looking up he saw an odd sight. Turning to Harmony, he pointed up. “Is that Aria, carrying Scourge?”

“It appears so, my king,” she replied, taking flight to meet her sister. “Don’t worry Slave King, I shall discover what brings them up from the front.”

Author's Notes:

Thank you gentlereader for reading chapter three of The Book of Water: The Marriage of the Slave King, as always comments are always appreciated. Finally we can see the plot beginning to thicken. The Slave King and Lord Triton seem to have a bit of a disagreement regarding the way things should be run. Fortunately Princess Celestia was there to help broker a compromise that no one was happy with, we can only guess how the rest of the pantheon might react. And it appears the Lady Zephyr seems to be mum regarding the Slave King's progeny, we can only wonder why. And we find it curious that Princess Luna seems to be hearing voices. Going by previous occurrences we can only surmise some sort of mischief is afoot. Perhaps she caught the same malady that Lord Cerynitis seems to be afflicted with. And poor Dawson, he only hoped to impress the Slave king and instead ended up making himself look bad. Cheer up sport, there's always next time. Speaking of time, mine's up so catch you next week!

Once again gentlereader, thanks for reading, until next time!

Chapter 4: The First Chance to Make a Second Impression

The Book of Water: The Marriage of the Slave King

A Story by TalonMach5

Chapter 4: The First Chance to Make a Second Impression

What exactly are those creatures known only as the wayfarers? The superstitious say they are a vile and cursed race sent by the unmentionable one to punish us for our sins. Others say they are magical aberrations, the experiment of madponies loosed upon the world. Still others claim they are from another world altogether, intent on conquering Equestria. But far from the tales of rabid wild men raping and pillaging their way across the land, I’ve found the Wayfarers to be a remarkable and interesting people. No different than the ponies of Equestria. Truly it’s a shame they have been so unjustly labeled monsters by the public at large. I wonder had things been different, if they might have adapted to life in Equestria and formed a nation of their own. Alas we may never know, as all traces of any Wayfarer discovered disappear as suddenly as they appear.

-Stormbreak, Seapony Harper, Tales of a Wandering Seapony vol. ix

Dawson was flying high over the grassy field far below, behind him was the conquered city of Bone’s Landing, his mother, and somefeather he desperately wished he didn’t know, the Slave King. When he heard the words “I have no use for you,” all the fantasies he had of being welcomed with open arms by him were dashed to pieces. He didn’t understand how things had gone so wrong. He had been so sure that the Slave King would be so pleased with the capture of the battlemage, that he would have asked him to stay and join ‘The Order of the Shadow’. Looking back, he knew now that that had been naive thinking. Seeing a tree beneath him, the griffin-half tilted his wings and wheeled around landing beneath its boughs.

Leaning up against the tree, Dawson looked back towards the Slave King’s throne before looking away. “Why didn’t I listen to mother?” he moaned. “I should have prepared more before coming here.”

“Maybe you didn’t listen to her, because your heart desperately wanted to be here…” a feminine voice said from behind, followed by the gentle notes of a lute being plucked.

“Show yourself,” Dawson growled, turning around to face the feather who was eavesdropping on him.

“Hello!” the voice cheerfully said from above.

Looking up, Dawson saw the Slave King’s harper tuning her lute, while swinging her legs playfully back and forth on a tree branch. While gently plucking the strings, she stuck her tongue out of her mouth while tightened and loosened the strings. When she was finally satisfied, she looked down at him and gave the griffin-half a gentle smile.

“I’m Melody,” she said, playing a gentle tune.

“Why are you following me?” Dawson demanded, unhappy that somefeather was seeing his distraught condition.

“Because king daddy asked me to!” Melody replied, before covering her mouth with her hand, when she realized what she just said. Leaning down towards him she conspiratorially whispered, “Oops, I’m not really supposed to call him that, don’t tell anyone I did.”

When he heard her refer to the Slave King as king daddy, he realized she must be the Slave King’s daughter, and not just the product of some random wayfarer coupling with a phoenix.

Looking up at Melody, he scowled. “What the hades makes you so special!” he demanded, hurt that the Slave King had rejected him but had no problem keeping some of his other children around. “Why wasn’t I good enough for him?”

Seeing Dawson’s anguish, Melody flew down from the tree and looked him in the eye. “I don’t know,” she said, remembering the sting of her father’s rejection. “He treats us as his servants, not his children.”

Feeling bitter and angry, he slammed his fist into the tree’s trunk, making it shake from the force of the impact. “I just want him to be proud of me!” he shouted, grieving for the loss of a father who he feared might never love him. Slamming his fists against the tree repeatedly, leaves fell as it shook from the impact. “What do I have to do?”

Seeing his anger, Melody wrapped her arms around him. “It’s not your fault…” she said, tightly embracing him. Feeling him struggle against her, she refused to let him go and held him tight. “Let it go.”

“It’s not fair!” Dawson shouted, allowing his pent up emotions to overwhelm him.

“No, it’s not fair. But you want him to love you anyway,” Melody sorrowfully said, looking down at Dawson. “You see a hole where his heart should be, and want to fill it so that maybe one day he can love you back.”

Feeling a tiny bit better, he looked up at her. “Thanks,” he said, wiping the few tears that had managed to escape his eyes. “So are you my sister then?”

“Half-sister I think,” she replied, with a small smile.

“So what’s it like serving the Slave King?” Dawson asked, curious as to what he was missing.

“Hmm… Serving the Slave King,” Melody said placing a finger against her beak. “Well I’m a harper, so I get sent on all sorts of diplomatic missions and such. If you want to know more about serving in ‘The Order of the Shadow’ you would need to ask my sister Aria, and nofeather knows more about life in court than Harmony.”

“It’s my dream to one day lead the order,” he said, feeling comfortable enough to share his dream with her.

“I don’t know,” she said, thinking out loud, “Master Scourge seems to be leaning towards Aria to replace him when the time comes. But who knows what the future holds?”

“Thanks Melody,” he said, no longer feeling quite so alone.

“My pleasure, little brother!” Melody sung, before looking up at the sun. “Oh my gosh! It’s getting late. We’d better head back before we miss the feast.

“Feast?” Dawson asked.

“Oh yes the victory feast! It’s so yummy,” she said with a dreamy sigh. “Food as far as the eye can see…”

Before he could reply, he heard Bucky calling out to him. “Hey Dawson!”

“Hi Bucky,” Dawson said, rubbing the back of his neck. Feeling a bit embarrassed by how he had left earlier, he looked up at the pegasus sheepishly. "Sorry about leaving so abruptly.”

“No it’s fine,” Bucky said, shaking his stuffed saddlebags, which gave off the tinkling of coins, “but you’ll never guess what happened! The Slave King gave me one thousand bits for the prisoner! Five hundred of which are yours.”

“Hmm…” Melody said, examining the saddlebags. “Seems like more than a thousand bits in there.”

“Ah, well not all of that was the purchase price,” he dismissively said, trying to hide the truth of how much he had really sold Gunhilde for.

“Okay, if you say so!” she sang, plucking away at her lute. “So are you going to stay for the victory feast, or enjoy your new found freedom?”

“How did you know?” Bucky asked, confused by how she knew he was a free pony now.

“Check your flanks,” she responded.

Looking at his left flank, he was surprised to see that he no longer had the mark of a slave, but instead now wore the mark of citizenship. “I think I’m going to go explore the world, wish me luck Dawson.”

“Look me up if you ever go north,” Dawson said, taking the bag of bits that Bucky offered him.

“Okay Dawson, see you around,” Bucky said, before taking off into the air.

“Come on Dawson,” Melody said, gesturing towards the direction of the camp. “Your mother is probably worried sick by now.”

“Alright, let’s go,” he agreed, spreading his wings and taking to the sky. Looking at Melody trailing behind him, he felt much better knowing he wasn’t alone anymore. And though he still didn’t have a father, he had at least gained a sister.

*****

Aria’s arms were tired, never before had she tried carrying something so heavy while flying. “Master Scourge,” she said, looking for a good spot to land. “I’m afraid I can’t carry you any further.

“That’s fine my pupil,” he said, looking up at Aria, “we can walk the rest of the way.”

“Aria, why are you carrying Master Scourge?” she heard somefeather ask.

Looking to her left, she saw her sister Harmony flying beside her. “Why have you left the Slave King defenseless?” she demanded, incensed that her sister would leave her post.

“He asked me to find out why you felt the need to leave the front,” Harmony replied, annoyed that her sister would accuse her of abandoning the Slave King.

“When I saw that Lord Triton had brought several members of the pantheon, we felt it prudent to return,” Aria retorted, insinuating that her sisters weren’t enough to defend the Slave King.

“The situation has been resolved without the need for your help,” Harmony icily said, letting her sister know that she was more than capable of handling a few unruly deities.

Scourge looked at the bickering siblings and sighed. “This is something we can discuss later,” he said, “if the Slave King has managed to reach a resolution with Lord Triton, so much the better. Come, let us meet with our king and see what he needs us to do.”

“Yes, Master Scourge,” the chastened siblings said together.

When they touched the ground Scourge shook himself once, knocking all the kinks out of his joints. “Climb on my back,” he told them. “We’ll make better time that way.”

Inwardly, both sisters whooped with excitement. Riding on Scourge had been one of their favorite pastimes as children. Now grown, they hadn’t had an opportunity to do so in ages. Once they’d climbed on top of him, he made sure they had a firm grip and barreled forward. Picking up speed, he could hear their cheers as they forgot their quarrels for a few minutes.

Along the way, Harmony explained what had happened, and the arrangement Celestia had brokered between Lord Triton and the Slave King. “This is unfortunate,” Scourge said, when he learned there would be no new slaves to be had, “an influx of new slaves would have been helpful for the construction of Neo Vale.”

“But Master Scourge, think of the silver lining,” Aria said, enjoying the air rushing through her red feathers and plumage. “The agreement ensures no retaliation against us by Lord Triton, and with all those extra ponies, the city’s economy should boom within a fortnight.”

“I know,” he replied, “I’m just thinking about all the heads I’m going to have to crack when they learn there’s no loot or slaves to be had from this conquest.”

“The first one who steps out of line will receive a ration from me personally,” Aria darkly said.

“We’re here,” he said, stopping at the foot of the Slave King’s hill. “Come. Let us see to our king’s needs.”

*****

Gunhilde was miserable, tired, and thirsty, though she thought she was going to be released when Lord Triton had made arrangements with the Slave King, it appears she had been forgotten. Working on the ropes binding her legs, she finally managed to free herself. She was behind the Slave King’s stone throne, near the tent that she supposed was where he slept. Spying an open bottle left unattended on a nearby table, she walked over to it and helped herself.

Pouring out the contents of the bottle into a nearby goblet, she examined the flowing green liquid that filled the cup. Unsure what it was, she breathed in its scent and smiled. Smelling the contents of the bottle, reminded her of spring, wildflowers, and fresh cut grass. Parched with thirst, she picked up the goblet with her hooves and sampled it. Once the luminous liquid had made contact with her tongue, her taste buds cried out in ecstasy. Knowing she had to have more, she tilted her head back and emptied the contents of the bottle.

Drinking deeply from the draught, she felt herself become invigorated as her sore and battered body rapidly healed itself. “That’s a draught from the well of renewal,” she heard the Slave King’s raspy voice say from behind her.

Frightened that she had committed a serious taboo, Gunhilde closed her eyes and hid her muzzle behind her front hooves. “Please don’t harm me, I was just so thirsty,” she begged.

“What is your name?” the Slave King asked, looking down at the terrified deer.

“Gun… Gunhilde,” she said, fearful of whatever punishment the Slave King might bring down on her head.

“Fear not, young doe,” the he said. “Why would I harm my own property?”

When she heard the words ‘my own property’, she became incensed. “I’m not your property, you agreed with Lord Triton to let all the prisoners go!” she protested.

“That’s correct,” he agreed. “However, you became my property the moment the transaction with Bucky was completed. Check your flanks for yourself. You’ll see that the slave’s mark is there.”

Turning her head to look at her flank, she kept her eyes closed not daring to look. Eventually curiosity won, and she opened her eyes and looked. To her horror, she saw that the he had spoken the truth. She was marked as the Slave King’s property. Remembering all the terrible things Dawson and Bucky had said awaited her as a slave, she began crying.

“Why do you weep?” the Slave King asked her.

“Because my life is over,” she bawled. “I don’t want to be a tent doe, or stuck in a mine doomed to never see the sun again!”

“You will be my cupbearer,” he said, deciding her fate. “You will clean my tent, and fill my cup when it’s empty.”

“Is that all?” she asked, scarcely believing she was getting such a prestigious job.

“There may be other duties, I might ask you to perform,” he said, “but they should be easy enough. Why, would you prefer the mines or prostitution?”

“Oh no,” she stammered.

“Good. Slave Gunhilde, fetch my cup and fill it. These negotiations have left me feeling parched,” he instructed.

Dutifully, she obeyed. Bringing the Slave King his cup, she filled it with a draught from another bottle. Looking at the deities that seemed satisfied with how things had ended, she sighed. Though all the others were being freed, she was cursed to serve her new master for the foreseeable future.

*****

Scourge slowly climbed the hill where the Slave King was seated. He noticed an unhappy looking Lord Triton seated across from his king, a distraught looking Lady Zephyr on the opposite side of the hill, and both Princess Celestia and Princess Luna seated near his master.

“Master,” Scourge said, bowing low to the Slave King, “I heard you negotiated a peace settlement with the Domain of Water?”

“That’s correct Scourge,” the he said. “I’ll need you to ensure my troops stop their looting, and to cease harming any more of the citizenry.”

“I’ll advise the other doomhounds to pass the word,” Scourge said. “And has Lord Triton sent word to his people to halt their counter attack?”

“Scourge, that’s an excellent question,” the Slave King replied. “Lord Triton, Scourge has asked if your people have been made aware of our little agreement.”

Lord Triton looked at the Slave King, before nodding once. “I’ll send word at once,” he said. “The knights who arrive will be part of the preliminary garrison that will be stationed here.”

“Now that all the loose ends have been tended too,” the Slave King said to the assembled deities. “I invite you all to join in the victory celebration, commemorating my victory over you, Lord Triton.”

When he heard the Slave King’s barb, he glared angrily at his antagonist. It was now a matter of personal honor. Silently, he vowed to settle things with the Slave King. “What sort of celebration would that be?” the Lawgiver asked, carefully probing the Slave King. He was half-expecting the Slave King’s followers to revel in drunkenness and debauchery, such behavior was to be expected from honorless mudslingers after all.

“There will be feasting and drinking of course,” he said, reminiscing about the previous celebrations his army had had. “The men usually regale the court with tales of their heroic feats. Also there’s usually the bazaar, where the soldiers trade their spoils with each other. For obvious reasons, that will have to be canceled. Then there’s the contests of strength and martial ability; my soldiers will duel each other for prizes. But of course your knights will probably have no interest in participating in such. Losing so badly, twice in one day, would probably be too much for your honor to bear.”

When he heard the Slave King’s final insult, Lord Triton felt his blood boil. The human would regret besmirching the martial prowess of ‘The Most Illustrious Order of Triton the Lawgiver’! “Now see here, Slave King,” he said, rising up from his seat, “it’s one thing to insult myself, but to insult the honor of my knights? This will not stand!”

Princess Celestia had to bite her tongue as she listened to the two of them. Really, the Lords of Water and Earth could be such foals! Especially the Slave King, who seemed intent on stirring up trouble for no good reason. Trotting towards Lady Zephyr, she gave her a warm smile. “Lady Zephyr,” she asked, “what sort of stallion was your wayfarer consort?”

When Princess Luna heard the idle gossip her ears perked up. Though such a topic was taboo, and beneath a mare of refinement, such interdomain gossip was too juicy to ignore. “Verily Lady Zephyr, pray tell,” she added, playing off her sister’s inquiry. “Thy son is very comely. His father must have been as well. Was thine romance enflamed by Lady Suzaku?”

Lady Zephyr instantly turned crimson, remembering the many sessions she shared with her absentee lover. “I don’t really wish to discuss Dawson’s father,” she said, glancing towards the Slave King with forlorn eyes.

“Oh, it’s all right between us ladies,” Princess Celestia said, offering herself as a confidant to Lady Zephyr. “I promise not to tell anypony about it. I’m sure Luna feels the same way.”

“Truly, Lady Zephyr, we vow upon our moon, not to break thy confidence,” Princess Luna said, curious as to the type of individual that could capture the Lady of Air’s heart. “Thy consort must have been a mighty stallion indeed, to sooth thy aching heart for the passing of Lord Darkpaw.”

Lady Zephyr took a deep breath, and decided to share with them. Remembering how he had made her once feel, her cheeks turned crimson as she reminisced about her lover. “He was like nofeather I’d ever met before,” she said, hiding her bushing beak beneath her wing. “Not since Lord Darkpaw, had I known such passion. Truly, it was a wondrous time for me.”

“How did you get involved with him?” Princess Celestia asked, listening to her tale intently.

“Oh, it was only by Lady Suzaku’s insistence I assure you, that I ever dared approached him with the idea,” she said with a smile, remembering the pure audacity of her friend’s suggestion they share him together. “We had many good years together, at least I thought we did.”

“What happened to thy lover? Didst his love wane for thee, when the garden of thy love blossomed?” Princess Luna asked, already knowing the answer to her question.

“He was quite surprised at first,” Lady Zephyr said. “In fact, I thought he was almost pleased he had a son. But one day, he closed his heart to me and asked me to leave him.”

“I’m sorry things didn’t work out for you,” Princess Celestia said, offering her the comfort that only the bond of sisterhood could offer.

“Tis a pity,” Princess Luna agreed. “But to speak truth Lady Zephyr, we art somewhat jealous of thee.”

Looking at her, Lady Zephyr gave the Lady of Night a puzzled look. “Why is that Princess Luna?” she said, curious as to her reason for envy. “I remember during the second age, that half the pantheon was chasing your tail.”

“Nay,” Princess Luna said with a hint of longing. “Of late, we hast been most unlucky in the matters of the heart. Some days, we think that we might be fated to spend the rest of the third age alone.”

“Dear sister,” Princess Celestia said, nuzzling her flowing mane. “Perhaps if you ask Lady Suzaku nicely, she might assist you in making one of the pantheon your consort. Perhaps Lord Triton would be receptive to such a proposition.”

“Lord Triton?” Princess Luna asked, flummoxed her sister would pick the most reserved member of the pantheon. “But he art as the cold pisces. Concerning the sundry matters of the heart, he is such a distant and passionless stallion! We hear that even during the Winter Solstice, after the Renewal of Water ceremony, he no longer even desires female companionship. Claiming that he wishes to conserve his essence, rather than waste it on the trivial desires of the flesh.”

“Oh what will that stallion think of next?” Lady Zephyr said, shaking her head at his strange beliefs.

“But Lord Triton is a stallion of propriety,” Princess Celestia said, miffed that Princess Luna and Lady Zephyr thought so poorly of the Lord of Water. “He would be a steadfast companion, and would honor his commitments no matter how distasteful he found them.”

“Sometimes Sister,” Princess Luna said, thinking back to the chaotic nature of the first age, “we desire to be consumed by the flames of passion. A romance of the ages, the kind the harpers wouldst commit to song.”

“Luna, if you remember,” Princess Celestia said, gently chiding her sister’s foalish longings, “the first age was more than wild nights of passionate romance. It was a time of chaotic upheaval. And on more than one occasion, some members of the pantheon even nearly destroyed Equestria due to their petty squabbles!”

Princess Luna laid her ears back in annoyance at her sister’s lecturing. Though she knew her desires were foalish, it was still fun to indulge in the fantasy at times. “Sister, thou art such a killjoy,” she said, blowing her a raspberry.

“Oh Luna, come now,” Princess Celestia teased, nuzzling her sister’s cheek playfully. “Perhaps the Slave King would offer you the excitement you crave, since you desire a turbulent consort.”

When she heard Princess Celestia mention the possibility of Princess Luna and the Slave King becoming intimate, Lady Zephyr took an aggressive posture towards the alicorns. “Why the sudden interest in the Slave King?” she pointedly asked, with her wings and beak poised to attack a possible rival.

“Oh, did you have your eye on him Lady Zephyr?” Princess Celestia asked, giving her a curious look. “I apologize if you took offense. I was just having a little joke at Luna’s expense.”

Realizing her aggression was uncalled for, Lady Zephyr’s features softened. She couldn’t believe herself. She had nearly attacked her over an innocent comment. “My apologizes, Princess Celestia” she said, bowing to her in an act of contrition and humility. “I have no idea what came over me. Perhaps the stress of worrying over the whereabouts of my wayward son for the past fortnight has fatigued me.”

“Oh that’s perfectly alright Lady Zephyr,” Princess Celestia said, looking at the Slave King as he and Lord Triton continued giving each other veiled threats. “Perhaps we should break up those two, before hostilities resume between their domains.”

“A wise choice,” Lady Zephyr said, nodding her head in agreement.

“Luna, do you care to join us?” Princess Celestia asked.

“Nay mine sister,” she said, “thy merciless teasing has put me in a melancholy way.”

“Luna, suit yourself,” she said, giving her sister a smile before heading to break up the arguing deities.

Once she was left alone, Luna spied the entrance to the Slave King’s tent. Curious to find out more about him, she stole away inside it unseen. Looking around the spacious tent, she was surprised by how few possessions he had. Even his bed was nothing more than a hammock and several blankets. Examining his furniture, she saw most of it was made of stone. This made perfect sense to her, considering he was capable of making anything from stone with little more than a thought. But unlike the other members of the pantheon, none of his iconography could be found anywhere. Even though she didn’t consider herself vain, all of her possessions still bore her mark, the distinct shape of the crescent moon.

“Curiouser, and curiouser,” she said, pondering why the wealthiest deity seemed to care nothing for his mighty fortune. Had he wanted to, he could have made all his furniture from solid gold or even platinum just as easily as from stone. “We wonder why he desired the port so. He has no apparent interest for enjoying his wealth, yet chases after it as if he wert Lord Ouroboros himself.”

In a far corner was an open wardrobe. Looking inside, she found nothing but clothing designed for the Slave King’s unique frame. Unlike the finery some of the other members of the pantheon wore, each article of clothing was made with practicality in mind. Though each was expertly made, even the common ponies of her domain wore nicer things. Abandoning the wardrobe, she turned her attention towards a chest hidden away in a corner. Though she couldn’t put her hoof on it, something about that chest called out to her, begging her to look inside. Cautiously approaching it, the temptation to open it grew even stronger.

“Methinks, there must be something of great worth inside,” Princess Luna said, drawing closer to the beckoning chest.

“What are you doing in here?” a voice asked.

Startled, she backed away from the chest. Turning around, she lowered her ears against her head in embarrassment at having been discovered entering the Slave King’s tent uninvited. To her surprise, she saw the reindeer battlemage from earlier looking up at her questioningly.

“We apologize for intruding,” Princess Luna said, hoping to prevent any further embarrassment to herself. “We saw the tent and were overcome by curiosity.”

“You shouldn’t be in here,” Gunhilde said, annoyed that she would have to straighten up the Slave King’s quarters again.

“We would appreciate thy discretion in this matter,” she said, hoping that Gunhilde wouldn’t say anything to anypony.

Though still upset with her new status as the Slave King’s property, Gunhilde remembered that Princess Luna had spoken on her behalf. “I promise not to tell anydeer you were here,” she said. “Follow me. Princess Celestia said she was looking for you.”

Before following Gunhilde out of the tent, she gave the chest a wistful look wondering what could possibly be inside it.

*****

Flying back towards the main camp, Dawson could see several large bonfires beneath him. Gliding along several warm thermals, the scent of roasting meat entered his nostrils. Feeling his stomach rumble, he peered down and saw large slabs of meat being roasted on spits.

“It smells divine, doesn’t it?” Melody asked, sniffing the air.

“It does, but I didn’t think phoenix’s enjoyed eating meat like griffins,” Dawson said.

“Oh don’t be such a pony,” Melody playfully said, with a teasing smirk. “Everyfeather in the Domain of Earth enjoys a bit of meat every now and again. Oh, if you want to impress our father I know just the thing!”

When he heard her say that, his heart filled with hope. Finally, there was something he could do to remedy for his poor performance earlier. “What is it?” he asked her, curious as to what her idea might be.

“There will be contests,” Melody sang, banking to the right to lower her altitude. “Do well, and the Slave King will offer you a boon.”

“But the Slave King has already dismissed me,” he said, unhappy he wouldn’t be eligible to participate.

“Leave that to me little brother,” she said with a conspiratorial wink, just before her feet touched the earth. “Just promise me you’ll win! Meet me by the armory tent, in half an hour and I’ll help you enter the contest.”

“I’ll see you then,” he agreed, before turning around to face his waiting mother, who looked none too pleased with him. Deciding to face the music, he walked up the hill towards her.

Lady Zephyr saw her son walking up the hill to meet her. Looking at him, she could tell a change had come over him but was unsure of what it was. Before, he was like the tempest tossed cloud. But now, Dawson carried himself with a calm demeanor. I must thank Melody for whatever she did, she thought. Turning her attention to her son, she ran towards him and wrapped her talons around him tightly, not daring to let him go. “My little fledgling,” she cried, “I’ve missed you so much!”

Returning his mother’s embrace, he rested his head against hers. “Mother, forgive me. I’m sorry for making you worry,” he said, basking in his mother’s love.

“I already have my child,” she whispered, closing her eyes and holding her son close. Then opening her eyes, she gave him a look of fury. “Dawson, if you ever do something so reckless again, I’ll clip your wings!”

“I promise mother,” he said, kissing her head in hopes of placating her fury.

“Come Dawson, we’re leaving this place,” Lady Zephyr said, casting a longing gaze at the Slave King before turning away.

“Might we stay at least for the victory feast?” he asked, hopeful that his one chance to redeem himself wouldn’t be taken away by cruel fate. “I made some friends here, and would hate not having a chance to say my farewells.”

She looked once towards the Slave King, and then into her son’s pleading eyes. Sighing, she nodded her assent. She had wanted to leave this place as soon as possible, away from him and the memories that pained her heart. Smiling warmly at her son, she ran her talons along his plumage, straightening the few feathers that had worked themselves out of place. “Dawson, go say your goodbyes,” she said, giving him one last squeeze before letting go.

“Thank you mother,” Dawson said, kissing her cheek and running towards the armory tent.

Happy to have her son back, she turned to join the other deities on the hill overlooking the preparations for the celebration. Looking back at Dawson, she flicked her tail. “Make sure you don’t take all night!” she called out to him. Seeing him wave once, she was satisfied he had heard her and walked back to join her peers.

*****

When Lady Zephyr arrived at the great stone table that the Slave King had erected, she saw Princess Celestia and Princess Luna flanking him, making sure he was behaving himself. Meanwhile Lord Triton was giving the Slave King a hard steely eyed look, while the Slave King was looking back at the Lawgiver with a look of smug satisfaction on his face. She remembered when she had first seen that look. It was back when he had sworn an oath to the pantheon. He had been so bold and powerful then it had melted her heart, now it was nearly unbearable seeing him like this again.

Seeing that she had returned, Princess Celestia offered her a warm smile. “Lady Zephyr, come join us. That is, if our host doesn’t object?” she asked, looking at the Slave King.

“Celestia the Radiant, I have none,” he said, turning his cold gaze at her.

“Come, have my place at the table,” Princess Celestia said, offering her seat. “I shall sit beside Lord Triton.”

Lady Zephyr’s heart sang, as she sat next to the Slave King. Wishing to entertain him, she looked into his burning eyes. “Which contest will be first?” she asked, placing her talon near his hand, hoping he would hold it once again.

“I believe that the jousting will be first,” the Slave King said, pointing to several of his hounds and ponies equipped with long lances. “Lord Triton has generously offered some of his knights to participate in tonight’s contests.”

“Yes, my ponies wanted to show your diamond dogs what true martial prowess looks like,” he said, still annoyed by the Slave King’s earlier barbs.

Princess Celestia took a small sip of wine from her goblet. “Tell me Lord Triton, who are you favoring to win the jousting contest?” she asked, hoping to keep the conversation civil.

“That would be Sir Hurricane the Gallant,” Lord Triton proudly said, drinking from his tankard of ale. “He’s always done well during our jousting tournaments in Marelantis.”

Seeing the direction her sister was steering the conversation towards, Princess Luna studied the field. “Slave King, we wonder who thou thinketh will be triumphant?” she said, sampling some of the wine in front of her.

“Most likely Shadow Knight Sombra,” the Slave King replied, draining the contents of his goblet. “Slave Gunhilde, see to my cup.”

“Yes… Slave King,” Gunhilde sighed, carrying a large bottle full of the Draught of Renewal and filling the Slave King’s cup to the brim.

“Second, has told me many things of Shadow Knight Sombra’s martial prowess,” the Slave King said, as the other deities looked disapprovingly at his use of Gunhilde as a slave. “I think Lord Triton, he should prove a most formidable opponent for your gallant Sir Hurricane.”

“This is unacceptable,” Lord Triton said, upset that Gunhilde was being used as a slave. “We had an agreement. All the prisoners were to be freed.”

“Yes, and I complied with the agreement to the letter,” the Slave King said. “Slave Gunhilde, wasn’t a prisoner at that time and so she wasn’t freed.”

“Black hearted scoundrel!” Lord Triton growled in frustration, furious that the Slave King had once again managed to skew laws that he predicated on justice and harmony into something twisted.

The Slave King looked darkly at the assembled deities, and drank from his cup. “Why should this single doe be free from bondage, while all the rest be doomed to toil until their time is finished?” he asked, daring them to answer him. “Lord Triton, how is that fair to the others?”

Lord Triton tried finding an answer, but struggled to respond. “Well… that is to say…” he stammered.

“Celestia the Radiant, you find the practice of slavery repugnant, yet nearly five centuries have passed and still ponies come to market,” he said, waiting for her to answer him.

“I refuse to become a tyrant to all, to save a few,” she said, looking sorrowfully at Gunhilde.

Princess Luna heard her sister’s words and felt incensed. The Slave King did have a point, why shouldn’t we forcibly stop such a horrible practice? All Equestria literally depended on them for their very survival. If some of their subjects couldn’t be persuaded to stop selling their fellow ponies into slavery, perhaps they were unworthy of their benevolence.

“Sister,” she said, “the Slave King is correct. We have little right to condemn him so long as we permit such terrible behavior to go unchecked.”

“Luna, we can’t…” Princess Celestia said, shaking her head in disbelief at what her sister was suggesting. “We can’t force everypony to do the right thing.”

“Dear sister, why not?” Princess Luna asked, looking at each of the other deities in turn. “All Equestria is sustained by our power, should we not expect… Nay demand obedience in the few things we ask?”

“Luna!” Princess Celestia gently admonished her sister. “That’s not harmony’s way, not our way, and not your way. We are not like the unmentionable one. Ours is to be the example, so that when those who desire harmony look to us, they can know the way.”

The Slave King looked at Princess Luna and then at Princess Celestia appreciatively. “Almost Celestia the Radiant, did you convince me of harmony’s virtue,” he said. “Perhaps, one day I might heed its call, but today is not that day.”

“Lady Zephyr,” Lord Triton said, trying to determine her position, “you have been rather quiet, what is your opinion on the matter.”

Lady Zephyr thought a moment. Though she loved his great strength, slavery was abhorrent to her. “To griffins, freedom is of the utmost importance,” she said, looking at the Lord Triton. Then turning towards the Slave King, she smiled. “But freedom means ultimately nothing, if you are too weak to preserve yourself.”

“So then, it would appear we are at an impasse,” Lord Triton said to the Slave King. “Perhaps you might care to place a wager?”

“Regarding?” the Slave King asked.

“If my knight wins, you must free Gunhilde,” Lord Triton said, confident in his knight’s abilities.

“Very well, I agree,” the Slave King said, drinking from his cup. “However, if my shadow knight wins, you must publicly announce that ‘The Order of the Shadow’ is superior to the ‘The Most Illustrious Order of Triton the Lawgiver’.”

“It is agreed then,” the Lawgiver said, shaking the Slave King’s outstretched hand with his fin.

“How exciting,” Princess Luna said, feeding off the tension emanating from the Slave King and Lord Triton. “We know not who to cheer for.”

When he heard her dilemma, the Slave King gave a dark chuckle. “Cheer for me Luna the Beautiful,” he said, “if you want to celebrate the victor.”

“”Humph,” Lord Triton grunted. “I can’t wait to see that smirk wiped off your face, when you finally lose to me Slave King!”

The Slave King said nothing, instead held out his empty cup expectantly for Gunhilde to fill.

*****

It had taken him about ten minutes, but he had finally found the armory tent. Wondering where Melody was, Dawson walked around the perimeter of the tent looking for her. Deciding to give up, he heard two voices speaking to each other in hushed whispers. Curious as to what they were talking about, he used his latent air magic and crept closer towards the voices, unseen by anyfeather.

“Master Second,” a charcoal unicorn said. From beneath his arcanum armor his black mane and tail could be seen fluttering in the breeze. “Are you sure now is the time?”

“Most assuredly, Shadow Knight Sombra,” Second replied, making sure no one was eavesdropping on their conversation. “Soon the Slave King will be celebrating his five hundredth inauguration, he will be too distracted by other more pressing matters to manage his northern holdings.”

“The Crystal Mountains…” Sombra said, sharpening his horn.

“Yes, and by extension the crystal ponies,” Second the doomhound said, opening his mouth and revealing his razor sharp fangs. “Our mutual acquaintance, wishes us to ensure the crystal ponies triple the output of the mines.”

“What makes you think, the Slave King will let me oversee such an important operation?” he asked, voicing his concerns that his standing in ‘The Order of the Shadow’ might be damaged if his request was denied.

“You’ll have my full support,” Second said with a dismissive wave of his paw. “Plus the fact that you just happen to be a pony, will be a useful foil to any objections that Princess Celestia and Princess Luna might raise.”

“Master, maybe I should turn you in and claim the reward…” Sombra threatened, before being knocked to the ground by Second.

The doomhound towered over the prone pony, threatening him with his deadly jaws and placing his heavy paw against the unicorn’s throat. “You dare threaten me, you miserable insect!” he growled, glaring at his subordinate. Placing his muzzle close to Sombra’s ear he whispered, “I have been betraying my king for centuries and yet live. You could have an accident tonight and nohound would be the wiser.”

Sombra’s dark coat had lightened by several shades of grey, in fear of his master’s wrath. “Forgive me, Master Second!” he whimpered, afraid for his life.

Knowing his point had been made to the pony, he allowed Sombra to get up. “Betrayal is a fact of life here in the Domain of Earth,” he said with a chuckle. “But remember your place pony, and you might live to profit from it.”

“You mean I could be king?” he asked, rubbing his bruised throat with his hoof.

“Of your own little fiefdom, yes,” Second grinned, before giving Sombra the burning gaze of somehound who had looked into the Pit and seen the terrors within. “But remember who your loyalty lies with, for he is not as forgiving as I.”

Though he had never met their patron, the knowledge that he was watching his every move filled Sombra with dread. “I’ll remember that,” he said.

“Good,” Second said, happy that his subordinate wouldn’t be getting any independent ideas. “Just follow your instructions and enjoy the benefits of serving our master.”

“I… I will Master Scourge,” he said, bowing low to the ground.

“Now, do not fail in your task,” Second warned, with a dangerous glint in his eye. “Or I shall be forced to find somehound else to replace you.”

When he heard the implications of Second’s threat, he turned ashen, bowed once, and headed towards the parade grounds.

When he was satisfied he was alone, Second narrowed his eyes in annoyance. How dare that pony presume to betray him! “It seems Sombra has an independent streak in him,” Second growled, carving marks into the ground with his paw. “We shall have to keep a close eye on him.”

Dawson watched in horrified fascination, as the doomhound continued making his marks in the ground. Though he wasn’t sure what purpose they served, he recognized it as similar to the communication spells some members of ‘The Order of the Shadow’ used to speak with the Slave King.

Soon Second was finished, bowing his head low he released a spine tingling howl. Immediately, the markings around the circle glowed blood red. Out from the circle the ghostly image of a terrible creature appeared. “Second, have all the preparations been made?” the image said with a voice that chilled Dawson’s soul.

“Yes,” Second answered, refusing to look at the image. “Sombra will make a useful pawn for your purposes, though he has a bit of an independent streak to him.”

“It doesn’t matter,” the voice said with a dark chuckle. “Just ensure he becomes king over the crystal ponies. His wicked nature will ensure he follows the plan.”

“And what of your opposition?” Second asked. “Jormungandr has been a constant thorn in your side.”

“Jormungandr has been dealt with for now,” the voice derisively replied. “Though he intends to stop me, each of his attempts has only ensured my eventual triumph.”

“What about Scourge and Nightmare?” Second asked, thinking of his superiors. “Scourge is loyal beyond even death, and Nightmare would devour the Pit itself to defend the Slave King.”

“Measures have been taken to deal with Scourge and Nightmare,” the voice said, seemingly unconcerned with the Slave King’s servants. “Now leave, and don’t return until you have news of my success.”

“Yes master,” he said, still refusing to look up at the creature as it faded away. Taking his paw, he destroyed the earthen ring and walked away.

When he was sure he wouldn’t be discovered, Dawson exhaled. He couldn’t believe what he had just seen. Second was plotting against his father with some terrible evil thing! “I need to tell somefeather,” he said, not sure who would believe him.

“Tell who what?” Melody asked, giving Dawson’s wings a playful poke with her lute.

“Augh!’ Dawson shouted, recoiling in fright.

“Oh, it’s only you…” Dawson sighed in relief.

“What do you mean, only me?” Melody asked, giving him a dangerous look.

Taking a deep breath, he explained everything he had seen to her. Sitting quiet as a stone, she patiently listened as he expounded all the details of the plot to her. She nodded once, when she heard about Shadow Knight Sombra, the plot to make him king over the crystal ponies, and Second’s betrayal of the Slave King to a terrifying blood red apparition.

When he was finally finished, he took a few deep breathes and looked expectantly at Melody. “Well?” he asked, hoping that she might have an idea about how to proceed.

“Well what?” she replied, mimicking the Slave King’s oft used expression.

“What are we going to do about what Second is planning?” he asked, hoping his sister had some ideas.

“Absolutely nothing!” she happily chirped, as she strummed her lute a few times.

“But… but…” Dawson sputtered in disbelief. He was sure that she of all feathers would have been the first to leap into action.

“Ah yes, we still need to get you a proper disguise!” she said, pushing Dawson him the armory tent.

The moment Dawson entered the tent waves of overpowering heat hit him full in the face. Looking at what was inside it, he saw a sight that would make Lord Triton green with envy. Arcanum armor and weapons, enough to equip hundreds of warriors were stacked in neat piles.

Arcanum ore by virtue of its special properties is the only metal known to ponykind that’s magically resistant once it’s processed into arcanum steel. Because of this, arcanum ore is highly sought after for armor and weapons. Unfortunately it’s also extremely rare, and until the Slave King ascended his throne only small pockets of the ore were found in Equestria. After he introduced new mining techniques to his people, arcanum became available in greater quantities in the south, but was still hard to come by anywhere else.

“Where did so much arcanum come from?” Dawson asked in wonder, not believing his eyes. He was amazed by how much of the incredibly rare metal was in front of him.

“From the ground kid, where else do you think it might come from?” a deep voice said.

“Iggy!” Melody shouted in jubilation. “Just the feather I was looking for.”

Turning around, Dawson saw that Melody was hugging a huge creature covered in red scales that was blushing with embarrassment. “Get off me, Melody!” he said with a gruff voice, as he unsuccessfully tried extricating himself from her iron grasp. “How many times have I told you to stop hugging me in public?”

"But everyfeather loves hugs!” Melody said, before reluctantly letting go.

“Well this dragon-half is somescale who doesn’t,” he retorted, giving Melody an exasperated look.

“But Iggy…” Melody pouted, giving the dragon-half puppy dog eyes.

“Confound it Melody, it's Ignatius not Iggy,” he protested, unhappy with all the affection he was receiving. “I’m not a whelp anymore.”

“You’ll always be my little Iggy,” she cooed, giving the dragon-half towering over her another little squeeze.

“Why can’t you hug one of my sisters instead? They all love that mushy stuff,” Ignatius complained, picking up the hammer he had dropped from his claws.

“Because you haven’t received your hug quotient for the day,” she replied, kissing Ignatius’s scaly cheek.

“Ugh, so what did you want Melody,” he sighed, wiping his cheek against his sleeve.

“This is Dawson, the griffin-half, son of Lady Zephyr,” Melody explained, pushing Dawson towards the dragon-half that towered over him.

“Hello,” Dawson said, feeling small next to the much larger dragon-half.

“Ah I see,” Ignatius said, giving Melody an understanding look. Placing a claw against his chin, he snorted a small blue flame. Appraising Dawson with his golden reptilian eyes, he nodded. “So what do you need Melody?”

“We need to disguise him as a feathered folk so he can enter the contest,” she explained. “Iggy, got anything to hide his more distinguishing features?”

“Well…” Ignatius drawled, giving Dawson an appraising look. “The biggest challenge is going to be hiding those talons of his. He doesn’t have hands like a feathered folk, plus his larger beak. Perhaps I got something in the back, that’ll do the trick.”

He walked towards the back of the tent leaving them alone. Wondering what the connection was between Melody and Ignatius was, Dawson raised his talon. “Melody is he…” he inquired, curious how a dragon-half came to work in the armory.

“Oh beneath his scaly hide, Iggy’s a sweetheart,” Melody said wearing a big grin.

“I heard that!” Ignatius shouted from the back of the tent.

"Tee, hee, hee,” Melody giggled, before holding a hand to her mouth and whispering, “He thinks he has to be tough all the time, cause he’s part dragon.”

“Did a wayfarer and a dragon…” Dawson asked, wondering how such a union came to be.

“No,” Melody said, trying on a belt and seeing how it looked on her. “About twelve years ago Lord Ouroboros woke from his torpor and came looking for revenge. He and the Slave King fought out in the badlands for about a week. When he returned from the battle, he had a number of dragon-halfs with him.”

“How is that even possible?” Dawson wondered, confused as to the implications of the Slave King and Lord Ouroboros procreating.

“I’m not quite sure,” Melody said, trying on a pair of duelists gloves. “I asked the Slave King once, and he told me to mind my own business. But I helped raise them since they were whelps, no taller than knee high. Now they run the Slave King’s forges.”

“Yes we do,” Ignatius said, giving Melody a pointed look. Handing him a bag, he waited as Dawson removed its contents. “I think you’ll find inside everything you need to pose as a feathered folk.”

Dawson opened the bag and pulled out a pair of large gloves that went up to his elbows. Sliding them on, he was amazed how well they fit on his talons. Next, he pulled out a large hat. Attached to it was a shemagh that could be wrapped around the face to protect against blowing dust. Putting on the hat and wrapping the attached shemagh around his face and beak, he looked into a mirror and was pleased that he looked just like a one of the feathered folk.

“Looking good Dawson,” Melody said, giving his wings an appraising look. “But I think he’s missing something.”

“Yeah, I agree with you,” Ignatius said, rubbing his claw against his chin. “I know what he needs, a proper weapon.”

“Exactly,” Melody agreed.

“Hey, what’s wrong with my spear?” Dawson said, holding out his weapon.

“I wouldn’t use that to pick my teeth,” Ignatius said, looking at the weapon with a critical eye. “It’s too top heavy, unbalanced, and the spearhead is warped.”

“That spear was made by one of the best griffin smiths in the Golden Eyrie,” Dawson protested, unhappy that his weapon was being dismissed.

“It might be acceptable for griffins,” Ignatius replied, “but for proper soldiers of the Domain of Earth nothing but arcanum is acceptable.”

“What about this one?” Melody said, pointing towards a red tinted spear.

“Nah,” Ignatius said, shaking his head. “Dawson isn’t attuned to light or flame magic. He couldn’t wield that weapon properly without hurting himself.”

“Oh, what about this one then?” Melody said, picking up a silvery spear.

“What did I tell you about touching the weapons in here?” Ignatius growled, scolding her. “You’re liable to hurt yourself touching a weapon not of your element. But that’s a griffin weapon, not suitable for feathered folk use.”

Dawson looked at the spear longingly. Compared to his, that one was a masterpiece. Noticing another spear as black as ebony, he ran his talons along the smooth shaft. Picking it up, he was surprised by how light it felt. Holding it in his talons, he knew no other weapon would do.

Seeing Dawson examining the black spear, Ignatius smiled. “You have an eye for superior craftsmanship,” he said. “And you’re in luck. I made that spear for somescale who fell in battle today. So it’s available if you want it.”

“Thanks,” Dawson said, reaching for the spear to make it his own.

“Not so fast,” Ignatius said, placing one claw on the spear and holding out his other expectantly. “You’ll need to pay three thousand bits if you want the weapon and clothing.”

When Dawson heard the price, his head drooped. There was no way he could come up with that kind of money. Reluctantly, he began removing the hat and gloves.

“Come on Iggy…” Melody pleaded, “Can’t you let it slide?”

“No Melody, you know the rules,” Ignatius said, shaking his head and refusing to budge. “There are material and labor costs, and he’s not even in the army.”

“Iggy, aren’t I still your Melly?” she asked, batting her eyes at Ignatius.

“Ugh!” he groaned, placing his claw against his face. “Melody that’s not fair. I’m not some kid whelp anymore. I’m an adult dragon-half!”

“Will you help your Melly?” she pleaded, trying to look as adorable as possible.

Remembering how she used to care for him as a whelp, Ignatius growled. Knowing he was beaten, he nodded in agreement. “Fine,” he said, giving her a small smile. “I’ll only charge for the materials used. Dawson, you can have them for four hundred fifty bits.”

Reaching into the pouch Bucky had given him, Dawson emptied the contents into Ignatius’s outstretched claw. “That should cover it,” he said, grateful that Bucky had given him his share of the money.

Ignatius counted out the bits, and handed the remainder back to Dawson. Immediately Melody gave him a big hug. “Thank you so much, Iggy!” she said, kissing his scaly cheek once more.

“Get off me!” Ignatius half-heartedly protested, before returning Melody’s hug.

“Okay Dawson,” she said, letting go of Ignatius, “time to go win that contest!”

“Thanks Melody,” Dawson said, grateful for all the help she was giving him. Attaching the spear to his back, he followed her out of the tent.

As he watched them leave, Ignatius sighed before heading back to work. Thinking about the exchange he had with Melody brought a smile to his face as he released a jet of flame to stoke his forge. Looking at the glow of the coals, he saw the yellow embers and thought about how she always used to care for him when he was only half her size. Readying his hammer to strike the glowing metal, he whispered, “I love you Melly.”

Almost immediately Melody’s voice shouted out, “Ah, how sweet! I love you too Iggy!”

Growling with embarrassment, Ignatius returned to work trying his best to drown out her giggles with his hammer’s blows.

*****

Dawson and Melody stood in line, waiting their turn to speak with Harmony who was running the registrations to enter the contest. When he saw who it was that was registering everyfeather, he began worrying she might notice he wasn’t really a feathered folk.

Concerned he might be discovered, he told his fears to Melody. “Are you sure, Harmony won’t recognize me?” he asked.

“Nah,” Melody said, dismissing Dawson’s concerns. “My sister is so stressed out right now, you could be registering naked and all she would say is next after you pay your fee.”

“Are you sure Melody?” he asked.

Before she could answer, Harmony shouted out, “Next!” When Dawson didn’t walk forward, she looked at him and scowled. “Hey, are you just going to stand there wasting my time, or are you going to pay the fee so we can get this line moving? I haven’t got all afternoon you know!”

“Uh, sure,” Dawson stammered, handing his last fifty bits to Harmony.

“Name?” Harmony asked, not even bothering to look up from her stack of papers.

“Um, I’m um,” Dawson said, trying unsuccessfully to think of a proper alias to use.

Harmony shot Dawson an annoyed looked and sighed, muttering, “Why me?” to herself. “Look, um, I’m um. I need your name if you want to compete,” she said, hoping to get this headache over and done with so she could return to the Slave King’s side before Lord Triton goaded him into another situation.

“Ah, he’s Dustin,” Melody offered, hoping to keep Dawson’s identity a secret.

“Dustin?” Harmony said, looking at his black and blue wings suspiciously. “What unit were you with?”

“Oh, he’s not with the regular army,” Melody said with a small laugh, weaving an identity for Dawson. “Dustin here is a scout, and just returned from the northeast.”

“Yes the northeast,” Dawson said, pointing towards a mountain in the distance.

“What were you doing out that way,” Harmony asked, annoyed that she now had to update the army scouting reports in addition to running the registration.

“Oh, there were reports of dragon gem raiders,” Melody said, wearing a cheerful smile.

“So were there any?” Harmony asked Dawson, scratching away at her parchment.

“Any of what?” Dawson asked.

“Dragon gem raiders?” Harmony replied, breaking her quill in frustration.

“Um, nope,” Dawson said, not sure how much longer he could keep lying through his teeth.

“Oh no!” Melody shouted, pointing to Harmony’s cloak. “You spilled ink all over yourself!”

Looking down, she saw that she had inadvertently spilled a half filled bottle of ink on her clothes. Feeling overwhelmed from having to deal with incompetents and annoying deities, she let loose a stream of profanities while unleashing a pillar of flame into the air.

Dawson, a bit fearful for his safety, looked questioningly at Melody. “Oh, she’ll be all right,” she said, plucking away at her lute and grabbing Dawson’s registration form. “Okay here you go Dawson, or should I say Dustin.”

“What do I do with this?” he asked, holding the registration form in his talon.

Present it to Master Scourge, he’s running the contests,” she said, before flying off towards the Slave King’s hill.

Seeing the soldiers wearing their full armor and weapons lining up, Dawson figured this was the line he needed to be in. The line moved forward rapidly, as he waited restlessly for the chance to redeem himself in his father’s eyes. Clutching the scrap of parchment in his talons, he was prepared to make the Slave King proud.

“Soldier, your registration,” a gruff voice demanded.

Looking up, Dawson saw the legendary Scourge waiting impatiently in front of him. “Yes sir,” he said, handing the parchment to the doomhound.

Scourge looked at the parchment and nodded. “Scout Dustin of the feathered folk tribe,” he said, “bring honor to our king, your tribe, and to yourself.”

“Yes, Master Scourge!” Dawson said, as bravely as he could.

“Good, you’re up next,” Scourge said, “against Shadow Knight Sombra.”

When he heard Sombra’s name, Dawson’s blood ran cold. Second himself, had handpicked that unicorn to be the lynch pin in his plot. Knowing if he lost his first fight, not only would he lose any chance to redeem himself to his father, but the plot against the Slave King might continue going forward undetected. Spying Sombra, standing in the line opposite of him he flexed his talons a few times trying to prepare himself for the fight. “Please help me win,” he whispered skyward, before returning his gaze back to his opponent.

However, unknown to Dawson, two ravens as black as night watched the day’s events unfolding from a tree a top a lonely hill. The first blinked his golden eyes once, before releasing a lone caw that echoed over the hillside. In response the other raven groomed its black feathers, before looking up with its silver eyes. “Hoo, hoo, hoo,” a silver and blue owl sitting above them hooted, waiting for a response. When none came, both the ravens and the owl cawed and hooted once in sorrow for their absent companion.

Author's Note

Thank you gentlereader for reading chapter four of The Book of Water: The Marriage of the Slave King, as always comments and criticisms are appreciated. It appears that Dawson seems to have his work cut out for him if he want's to impress the Slave King. And wasn't it nice of Melody to help him out? But I wonder if Bucky's conscience will let him get away with keeping the extra bits to himself. I'm interested to see how the Slave King's and Lord Triton's little wager ends up. Will Sombra or the gallant Sir Hurricane end up the victor? And what of Dawson, or Dustin rather. How will his participation in the contest complicate things. All signs point to yes. We can only wonder what Gunhilde thinks about this.

Regarding Lady Zephyr and Celestia's little conversation, we can only wonder if her curiosity is only academic or something more. And what of Luna, she seems rather envious for some reason. But perhaps she was right, forcing people to do your will could never be a bad thing, especially when you control the moon. Maybe her exposure to the chest has beckoned her darker side to come out and play. And what of Second and Sombra's plot, who could they be scheming with. We can only surmise they are up to no good. Regarding Ignatius's origins, we can only wonder if they are the same as the other beast folk tribes. If so I'd hate to be a fly on that wall.

Once again gentlereader thanks for reading, until next time!

Chapter 5: The Duel, A Battle of Wills and Hearts

The Book of Water: The Marriage of the Slave King

A Story by TalonMach5

Chapter 5: The Duel, A Battle of Wills and Hearts

Love, is there no greater power? With a single look, it can bring us from the lowest of valleys to the highest mountain. And with but a single word, it can cast us from the highest peaks of exaltation to the depths of despair. Love is as primal a desire for anyfeather as the need to breathe air. When two feathers that love each other come together, there is nothing they can’t do. But beware Discord’s poison. Love, as potent as it is, can consume you like wildfire. Two gentle lovers with their hearts open to each other, can easily be twisted to vicious hate should the seeds of mistrust take root. So love each other, and tend to your garden daily so that it doesn’t get choked by the weeds of mistrust.

-Rhapsodia, phoenix philosopher, Love: The Endless Waltz

Why was he so angry all the time? He was no stranger to anger of course, but he remembered being happy not too long ago. He once took pleasure in the simple things of life. He could remember happier times when he smiled, and knew joy. But of late, nothing could bring him happiness. It was all tainted with the red haze of anger over some miscarriage of justice or some imagined slight. When was the last time he had even had a good laugh? He honestly couldn’t remember anymore. It felt like any control over his destiny was slipping out of his hooves.

It was so cold now. When had the cold started to bother him? This was insane. The cold should be of no consequence to somedeer of his stature! Looking down, he saw his hooves were covered with a thick layer of ice. How long had he been sitting like this for? He couldn’t honestly remember. His last memories consisted of something about a game and an argument, and… and… That was odd, why couldn’t he remember anything more? Struggling as hard as he could to find something, anything, he wracked his mind until he remembered her.

Of course! How could he have possibly forgotten such a vision of loveliness as she? He knew her so well he could carve her likeness in the ice with his eyes closed. Spying a mirror to his left, he tried getting up, but found himself frozen solid on the throne he was sitting on. Smashing his mighty antlers to the side, a mighty crack filled the room as ice started breaking. Looking around the throne room, he saw sheets of ice and large icicles falling and shattering into pieces when they struck the ground. He tried moving once more, and found that he was still stuck fast against the throne. Allowing the power of water to flow through his body and up into his antlers, he unleashed the power in waves all around him. The sounds of hundreds of sharp cracks followed, as ice broke all around him shattering into thousands of tiny fragments.

Standing up, he walked away from his ornate rune covered silver throne. Shaking his white furred body, he sent a shower of fine ice crystals flying everywhere. Looking all around him, he could see the place was an utter mess. Thick layers of ice had built up everywhere. This wasn’t right, why had nodeer seen to his home’s maintenance? Tilting his ears back and forth, the only sounds he could hear was the crackling of ice and the lonely howls of the wind echoing through the deserted passageways. Where had everydeer gone? Where were the sounds of the jubilant music and heavy hoofsteps of the dances of his people? Where was the gentle tingling of the silver bells and merriment of the golden harp strings being played? Why was he alone?

Looking back to the mirror, he slowly approached it, fearful of what he might see reflected back at him. Standing in front of it, the mirror’s frost covered surface reflected nothing. Lowering his head and touching his antlers to the dark glass, its surface cracked, bathing the entire room with silvery light. As the frost and ice fell away from the mirror, the image he saw reflected back at him made his heart leap with joy. It was her! Just as beautiful as he last remembered her. She was wearing a gentle smile that made his heart sing.

But what was this? The image pulled back revealing more of her surroundings. What he saw made his eyes burn and heart ache. She was with him of all deer, he who was his most hated enemy! The betrayer and murderer. Not only was she sitting by him, she was smiling and laughing as well, and it seemed as if her eyes reflected even desire for him. No, this cannot be. Not with him, not again! Stamping down his forehoof in rage, the entire room shook, as thick sheets of ice began covering the walls. This was too much to take. He needed to sit down again, to recover his strength. Yes, rest would be good. Trotting towards his throne, he sat down and closed his bloodshot eyes. Smiling as a blanket of frost and ice covered him, his rage would be allowed to cool so he could think clearly once more.

Opening his eyes in confusion, he looked back and forth at his ice covered throne room. Just how long had he been sitting here? But more importantly, why was he so angry? He couldn’t quite remember. Looking down, he saw his ice covered hooves…

*****

Dawson held his lance nervously. He had never fought like this before, and was concerned he might perform poorly. Though griffins did have a form of jousting, it was always in the air. Here he was being forced to run opposite his opponent, hopefully knocking him aside. He wouldn’t have worried so much if his opponent was anyfeather else. But he was facing against Sombra, supposedly one of the Domain of Earth’s greatest champions. He did have one advantage though. He could easily dodge his opponents lance if he needed to.

The kobold armorer attending him, nodded once approvingly. “Alright Dustin,” he said, checking the straps securing his armor. “You’ll want to lean forward into the impact of the lance against your breastplate, which will make breaking your opponents lance more likely. Once your opponent’s three lances are done, you’ll have the advantage with your spear. Just remember no magic or flying is allowed.”

“Thanks,” Dawson said from beneath the shemagh covering his face.

“No problem,” the kobold said, slapping his back heartily. “After all, we beastfolk have to stick together.”

Watching the kobold walk away, Dawson was surprised by how much he seemed to have in common with the various beastfolk he’d met so far. Even though the kobold had no wings and was covered in hair instead of feathers, he walked upright and had dexterous hands and fingers. Reflecting back on all the various beastfolk he had met so far, he felt a sort of kinship with them he’d never felt with the griffins of the Golden Eyrie. He would miss them when he finally returned home.

“Scout Dustin,” a diamond dog standing next to him said, “you’re next.”

Nodding once, Dawson stepped out onto the field with his lance and presented it to assembled deities watching the proceedings. Glancing to his right, he saw Shadow Knight Sombra also presenting his lance. He couldn’t help but feel nervous about their upcoming match. The likelihood of him knocking down a pony in a joust was almost laughable. He just had to make sure to break Sombra’s three lances as quickly as possible, and then win the melee portion of the contest. He might not win the round, but he would be able to move to the next one without being disqualified.

Dawson and Sombra took opposite ends of the field, waiting for the signal to begin. The deafening sound of flugelhorns shook the grassy field, signifying the start of the contest. The moment he heard the horns, he ran forward as fast as he could. He could see Sombra giving him an evil look, as he lowered his lance. Gripping his own lance tightly, he aimed for Sombra’s helmet and hoped for the best.

When the lance hit him, the force of its impact nearly knocked him on his back. Looking at his own unbroken lance, Dawson saw that Sombra had easily dodged getting hit while shattering his lance against his shield. Dropping his shield, he winced as he tenderly rubbed his shoulder. It felt like he’d smashed his left side into a stone wall. Seeing his opponent’s discomfort, Sombra trotted over to him wearing a cruel smirk.

“Drop out half-breed, or the next one goes for your head,” he said, kicking some dust in Dawson’s direction.

Dawson had no intention of dropping out. In fact, he toyed with the idea of picking Sombra up and then dropping him from a thousand feet to fall to his death, which would certainly result in his disqualification. He imagined the look of terror on the pony’s face as he plummeted to his doom, when he felt a claw poking him in the back.

“Dustin,” the kobold said, shoving his shield into his talons. “Time for round two.”

Dawson nodded once and got back into his starting place. Looking towards the Slave King, he raised his lance once and prepared for his second charge. Looking at his opponent, he saw that the shadow knight was pawing at the ground impatiently. He thought about letting his lance slip between the unicorn’s legs, causing him to trip and possibly breaking a leg or two. But then he’d never get the recognition he so desperately desired. Resigning himself to follow the rules, he gritted his teeth. He only had to break two more lances and then he could finally give the unicorn some payback.

The minute the flugelhorns trumpeted the start of the second round, Dustin charged forward with his lance. Once again, he aimed for Sombra’s helmet. When the lances smashed against their targets, he felt as if somefeather had slammed a war hammer against the side of his helmet. Feeling his head, he was relieved when he found that his shemagh was still firmly in place. Only his eyes and black and blue plumage were visible to the crowd.

Dawson looked at his lance, and saw to his satisfaction that the tip was broken. He took satisfaction knowing he had managed to at least tag that traitor. Looking at the scoreboard, he saw that he had been awarded one point while Sombra had three, two for knocking off his helmet this round, and one for impacting his shield last round. Six points was an automatic win, so he just had to continue to stay standing and he would move on to the melee portion of the contest.

“Half-breed, there’s no shame in bowing out before your betters,” Sombra taunted, hoping to incite anger in his opponent.

Dawson said nothing. Instead he picked up his helmet and returned back to his starting place, while patiently waiting for round three to begin. While waiting to receive a new lance, he looked up at the hill where the Slave King and his mother sat watching him. He looked away slightly embarrassed when he saw Melody wink at him before blowing him a kiss. Thinking about the troubles he was having with this portion of the contest, he wondered why they didn’t allow the beastmen tribes to ride on a pony or even a diamond dog. Though the kobold had said the only thing against the rules was flying and magic, he wondered if they would object if he found a willing pony to ride. The shrill trumpeting of the flugelhorns interrupted his thoughts as he ran forward to meet Sombra. Placing both hands on his lance he thrust it forward with as much power as he could muster, hoping to land a hit square on the chest of that unicorn bastard.

When their lances hit, Dawson felt as if his arm was on fire. The lance had impacted right on his shoulder, and had probably dislocated it. Looking at his opponent, he saw that Sombra’s smug look of superiority was replaced with one of enraged fury. Seeing the tip of his broken lance caught between the joints of the unicorn’s right foreleg and peytral, plus the blood dripping down his charcoal coat, told him everything he needed to know. First blood was his!

Sombra used his magic and forcefully yanked out the wooden lance, without letting out so much as a whimper. Limping over towards Dawson, he gave him a hateful look of pure malice. “Half-breed,” he menacingly whispered in passing. “I’m going to enjoy breaking you.”

Dawson said nothing, confident in his ability to defend himself with his new spear. Removing the jousting gear, he picked up his spear and felt its powerful shadow magic coursing up and down the length of its shaft, crackling as it reached the tip. Giving the spear a few practice thrusts, he immediately winced in pain when he felt his left arm scream in agony at being used.

“Maybe I’m in trouble after all,” Dawson said to himself, nursing his left arm.

“Great show Dustin,” the kobold said, examining Dawson’s left arm and shoulder. “That was a great idea, using your lance as a spear.”

“I was hoping it wasn’t against the rules,” Dawson said, gritting his teeth in pain as the kobold worked on binding his badly bruised shoulder.

“Looks like you’re in luck,” the kobold said. “Sombra is requesting a short recess so he can have his wound tended to.”

“How long?” Dawson asked, hoping for a small respite for his aching shoulder.

“About ten minutes,” the kobold replied.

“Damn it…” Dawson groaned in disappointment, wishing it would be longer.

"In the meantime, enjoy watching the next round of jousters,” the kobold said, biting into a large slab of roasted meat.

*****

“Slave King, are you enjoying the contest so far?” Princess Celestia asked, before taking a sip from her wine.

“Verily, we find it most exhilarating,” Princess Luna said, cheering as two ponies charged at each other with their lances.

The Slave King took a sip from the green draught in his cup, and politely applauded as the ponies presented themselves for his approval. “I find, that due to technical limitations,” he said, nodding once to the victor of the last round, “that the entertainments presently available are simply adequate.”

“Adequate?” Lord Triton said, unable to fathom what could possibly make things more exciting. “Slave King, surely you do the hounds and ponies that serve you a disservice, by waving away their efforts to entertain you as merely adequate. How you’ve set up your contests is dangerous to the participants, and possibly even fatal.”

“All true,” the Slave King agreed, “and yet when you’ve touched the heavens, walking on the ground seems rather mundane.”

Intrigued by the Slave King’s words, Princess Luna pressed him for their meaning. “What meanest thou, by saying thou hast touched the heavens?” she asked. “Thou hast no wings.”

“I’ve no wings, yet soared above the clouds,” the Slave King answered. “I’ve no gills yet plumbed the depths of the deepest ocean. I’ve watched the earth eclipse the sun from the moon. I’ve seen things beyond all imagination. What am I?”

“Oh a riddle,” Princess Celestia said, “I love those.”

“It’s no riddle…” Lady Zephyr muttered. Often she had heard the Slave King, sigh in boredom at the most amazing of things. The only time she had ever seen his eyes light up with excitement was when he was either in his workshop working on one of his infernal contraptions or in the grotto of memories working on that gem. Often she had asked him, why he took no part in the games the other deities often played. He always answered her with cryptic riddles.

“What about you, Lady Zephyr?” Princess Celestia asked, rousing her from her contemplation.

“I’m not sure…” she replied. “Riddles have never been my strong suite.”

“Well I for one have no idea,” Lord Triton said, stroking his mustache thoughtfully. “Slave King, what’s the answer?”

“Something beyond your comprehension,” he said, drinking deeply from his cup.

“How rude!” Lord Triton exclaimed, unhappy with the Slave King’s discourteous behavior.

“Slave King, really,” Princess Celestia said, admonishing him for his poor manners. “If you plan on telling us a riddle, it’s only proper to give the answer when we give up.”

“The answer can only be experienced,” the Slave King replied.

Puzzled by what the Slave King meant, she decided to change the subject. Noticing that a feathered folk was about to joust against a large unicorn, she raised her eyebrow questioningly at him. “Surely you can’t be serious about letting one of the feathered folk compete against a pony?” she asked, concerned for the feathered folk’s safety.

“He was advised of the risks before signing up,” the Slave King nonchalantly said, studying the feathered folk intently. Currently the feathered folk tribe was small enough in number that he was familiar with most of them. Concerned that he didn’t know who this was, he looked at Melody questioningly. “Who’s the feathered folk that’s competing against Shadow Knight Sombra?”

Melody stopped playing her lute and smiled at the Slave King. “Oh that’s Dustin,” she said, resuming plucking her lute’s strings gently.

“I’m not familiar with any feathered folk named Dustin serving me,” the Slave King mused, curious about his identity. “What unit do they serve in?”

“Oh he’s a scout I believe,” she said, strumming her fingers against the strings while playing a soft tune. “I think he was serving on our eastern borders, looking out for dragon gem raiders.”

“Dragon gem raiders?” Lord Triton said, raising his eyebrow questioningly. “Seems a bit wasteful, to send scouts looking for gem raiders, when gems are so common now.”

“Strong borders, like fences, make for good neighbors,” the Slave King replied, trying to figure out where he’d seen wings like that before.

“Dustin seems to be holding his own,” Princess Celestia said, amazed he was still standing after taking such hit from Sombra’s lance. “It hardly seems fair for ponies to compete against beast folk in a contest that greatly favors them.”

“Ponies may have the advantage for the jousting portion,” the Slave King said, “but diamond dogs and beast folk have the advantage of using longer reaching weapons in the melee portion of the contest.”

“The melee portion?” Princess Celestia inquired, finding the thought of ponies using weapons against each other outside of combat distasteful.

“Yes,” he said, expectantly holding his cup out to be filled by Gunhilde. “My soldiers enjoy proving to each other which of them are the best warriors. I grant a boon to the winners of each of the various contests.”

“We find thy contests most exhilarating,” Princess Luna said, watching as Dustin and Sombra once again charged at each other. When she saw Sombra’s lance smash into Dustin’s helmet knocking it off, she cringed. “Oh, that must have smart!”

“Dustin fought well for a nonpony,” Lord Triton said, applauding his efforts when he saw that he had impacted his lance against Sombra.

“Yes Lawgiver,” the Slave King replied, “for a feathered folk, Dustin is doing remarkably well. Most nonponies take one hit and are knocked down, for an automatic win.”

When she saw Dustin’s helmet fly off, Lady Zephyr looked at him and was surprised to see that his plumage almost looked like Dawson’s. But that would be impossible. He wouldn’t defy her twice in one day, by placing himself in harm’s way again. When Dustin picked up his helmet, she saw his brown eyes and began wondering. Dawson, is that you?

As Sombra and Dustin faced each other for the third and final time, Lady Zephyr’s heart began racing uncontrollably. What if it was him? He could easily be hurt. But she didn’t want to stop the contest, and embarrass the Slave King if her accusation turned out incorrect. As they charged towards each other, she held her breathe hoping that the feathered folk would come out of this unscathed. Right before they collided, she closed her eyes afraid of what she might see. After she heard the sound of their lances smashing against each others armor. She exhaled in relief when she saw that Dustin appeared to be unharmed. When she saw that he had even drawn first blood, she got up out of her seat and loudly applauded, feeling a small bit of motherly pride for his accomplishment.

“I was worried you were feeling bored,” Princess Celestia whispered into her ear.

“Oh no,” she replied, “I’ve just been feeling overwhelmed.”

“Thy scout possesses quite a robust soul,” Princess Luna said, stamping her hooves appreciatively.

“Indeed,” Lord Triton agreed, “the youth has performed most admirably.”

The Slave King clapped a few times as was expected of him, before folding his hands back in his lap. “He brings honor to his tribe,” he said, in a tone suggesting his was bored.

Before he could say anything else, Harmony landed in front of him. “My king, Sombra’s wounds are impeding his ability to fight,” she said, blowing a few stray black feathers out of her eyes. “Second requests that he be allowed to use magic to heal him, and postponing the second half of the contest until after the next round of jousting. Sombra is prepared to continue wounded, but Second is worried he might be grievously injured in the melee portion.”

“That’s rather unorthodox,” the Slave King said, mulling it over. “I’d hate to lose a soldier needlessly, but Dustin did fight well. It hardly seems fair to him, to grant Sombra magical healing. Lord Triton, what do you say?”

“Gunhilde’s freedom rides on the bet we made,” Lord Triton said. “But on the other fin, I’d hate for my victory to be lessened by your pony being injured. Princess Celestia, what’s your opinion on the matter?”

“Sombra, should forfeit if he’s too injured to continue,” she said, wanting the contest to be fair to Dustin and prevent anypony from competing with a grievous wound.

“Thou shoulds’t at least give Sombra a penalty for receiving magical assistance,” Princess Luna said, favoring Dustin as the winner.

The Slave King considered all their opinions and then looked at Harmony. “Tell Second, he can have his postponement,” he said. “But Sombra’s taking a penalty for the healing aid.”

Harmony nodded once to the Slave King, before flying back towards the field to deliver his ruling. When Lady Zephyr heard his decision, she dug her talons into the stone table in anger. Dustin performed better than would be expected against a pony, and now because Sombra had connections, they were taking his advantage away from him. It wasn’t right, and it wasn’t fair! She inwardly seethed.

Noting Lady Zephyr’s distress, the Slave King offered her a sip from his cup. “Perhaps a sip from my draught might ease your stress,” he offered her.

“Why are you making exceptions for some, and not others?” she angrily demanded, giving him a stern look. “You always go on about being fair and not treating somefeathers differently, but now you’re granting favors to Sombra over Dustin.”

The Slave King didn’t answer Lady Zephyr’s accusation immediately. In truth, it cut him to the core. Had he committed the very hypocrisy that he had accused Princess Celestia and Lord Triton of just earlier that day? The thought didn’t sit well with him. He didn’t used to be like this. Centuries ago he’d had perfect clarity, but now there were so many angles he always had to consider. Looking at Princess Celestia, he saw someone who constantly had to make compromises to keep her people protected, and ensure peace and tranquility for all. Turning towards Lord Triton, he saw someone who often had to choose between his honor and the good of his realm, and oftentimes made bitter choices. Had he finally become like these deities he so despised?

Sighing heavily, he did the only thing he could when facing an impossible situation. “Lady Zephyr, I apologize for disappointing you,” he said, while the iron crown he wore weighed heavily on his head.

His apology took her by surprise. She had fully expected him to adamantly deny showing any favoritism. Instead, he’d admitted his wrongdoing and even apologized! Perhaps she had a chance with him after all. Placing her talon on the Slave King’s hand, she looked into his burning green eyes. “I’ve missed you,” she whispered to him.

He said nothing as he felt her warmth enveloping his hand, declining to remove his hand as gently squeezed him with her talon.

Noticing their brief exchange, Princess Luna looked enviously at them. Though she had no designs on the Slave King, she desperately wished she had somepony of her own. I wonder what drove them apart, she thought. Thinking about her earlier conversation with Lady Zephyr, she wondered how much she knew of the Slave King’s true nature.

If you desire him, he could be yours, a voice whispered into her mind.

Nay, we do not! Princess Luna thought, annoyed with herself for thinking such a thing. Look at how Lady Zephyr pines after him, we coulds’t never take him for ourself.

Lady Zephyr had her chance, the voice countered. She has failed to keep his interest. Should you desire him, he could easily be yours.

Leave us, Princess Luna ordered. Such pernicious desires have no place in our heart.

Oh spare me your prattling about the virtues of harmony, the voice sarcastically replied. If you desire something, you should take it. Are you not the most beautiful of the pantheon, and the most deserving? You desire somepony to drive away the loneliness don’t you? The Slave King could be the solution to your needs.

We think the Slave King is a most base and surly creature! She screamed at the voice, trying to convince herself she had no desire for him. We don’t love him, nor even like him!

Yet you respect his intelligence, great power, and immense wealth, the voice chuckled. There’s no shame in using a stallion, to sate your desires. None can resist your majesty and grace. It would be a simple matter to remake him however you see fit.

Tis true, most stallions need to be molded and trained, Princess Luna answered, seeing the truth in the voice’s words. However, the Slave King is no stallion.

It didn’t matter to your sister, the voice pointed out. She managed to marry the two of you to him, and he accepted it without even batting an eye. Are you so incapable, that you can’t perform a task your sister did with ease?

We can do all that our sister can do, and more! She boasted. Should we desire it, the Slave King will be our paramour and consort, nay our husband.

Prove it then, the voice taunted.

Nay, we have no desire to, she shouted. Now begone, thou aren’t welcome in our mind any longer.

The voice remained quiet, but the echoes of its accusations, demands, and taunts burrowed deeply into the recesses of her psyche. Did she have secret desires for the Slave King that she was unaware of? She found the very idea of it quite vexing. She could escape from ponies and even other deities that dare treated her like this, but there was no where she could escape from her own mind. Looking at Lady Zephyr and the Slave King sitting together, she suddenly felt overwhelming jealousy that he wasn’t sharing such an intimate moment with her instead.

Hoping to separate them, she tried turning the conversation towards Dawson. “Lady Zephyr, we wonder where thy son is,” she asked, wearing a sly smile. “We woulds’t think he woulds’t be enjoined with thee. Surely thou must have much left to discuss with him.”

Thinking of her son, Lady Zephyr looked down at the pitch where Dustin was having his shoulder looked at by a kobold attendant. Looking down at him, all her previous worries filled her heart. Was that truly her son, was he hurt badly, and would he survive the next phase of the contest?

“Oh, he said he wanted to say his good byes, before we departed for the Golden Eyrie,” she said, trying to disguise her distress.

“Slave King, we see that thou also hath a contest for archery,” Princess Luna said, looking towards the large number of targets that were setup.

Looking away from the jousting pitch, he turned his attention towards the archers. “Yes,” he said, “among the diamond dogs, griffins, beast folk, and even some of my unicorns they like to compete with the bow to see who is the best. I apologize if it’s not nearly as exciting as the jousting.”

Looking at the competing archers, one of them, a feathered folk was walking through the course releasing arrow after arrow. Each arrow flew true, never failing to miss their mark. “We wonder who yonder feathered folk is,” Princess Luna said, impressed by the accuracy of the shots from her bow.

“That is Aria the Red, Lady Suzaku’s eldest feathered folk daughter,” he said, not even bothering to look at the archery contest. “She always wins.”

At the mention of the Lady of Summer, Lady Zephyr feathers rose in challenge and her wings threatened to flare out. Though she had accepted long ago the unique arrangement she’d shared with her fellow deity and closest friend, even now she still felt a twinge of jealousy towards her. It was obvious by the number of their children, that the Slave King had favored her more.

Seeing her discomfort, Princess Luna pressed further. “We wonder Lady Zephyr,” she innocently said, “when thy son will compete?”

“Oh Dawson, isn’t nearly old enough yet,” she said, slightly flustered as she thought of the possibility of Dustin actually being her son. “Besides, when he’s of age, he shall serve as captain of the Golden Eyrie’s garrison.”

“We wonder why so many of Lady Suzaku’s children have found employ under the Slave King’s service,” Princess Luna mused. “Her children must be ponies of quality.”

“Lady Suzaku has few opportunities to offer them,” the Slave King said, trying to steer the conversation away from the feathered folk’s parentage. “She and I have a standing arrangement.”

“She must be proud, that so many of her children thrive under thy care,” she said. “We wonder why she is absent.”

Hearing Princess Luna’s question made him grip the stone armrests of his throne tightly. Looking at her with his burning eyes, he ground his teeth. “Lady Suzaku prefers the comfort of her own domain to that of the Domain of Earth,” he said, daring her to continue this line of inquiry. “She claims the climate here is too dry and dusty for her beautiful complexion.”

Sensing the Slave King’s agitation, Princess Celestia steered the conversation towards a new topic. So who do you think is going to win, Sombra or Dustin?” she asked.

*****

It had been nearly an hour, and Dawson was sitting impatiently so he could finish his match and move up in the rankings. “Scout Dustin,” Harmony said from behind him.

Turning around, Dawson saw Harmony the Black tapping her foot impatiently. Standing at attention, he saluted with his spear before wincing once as his shoulder throbbed like the dickens. “Yes,” he said.

“Take a swig of this,” Harmony instructed, thrusting a small bottle of luminescent green liquid into his hands.

“What is it?” he asked, looking curiously at the shining liquid inside.

“Something to take the edge off of your pain,” she replied. “Also, since Sombra’s healing is taking so long, each of you will be wild cards for the semifinalist round.”

Dawson removed the stopper on the bottle and downed its contents with one gulp, instantly he felt the pain in his shoulder dissipate. All the aches and pains in his body ceased, and he felt like he had just woken from a long sleep. “Wow, that’s amazing,” he said, handing the bottle back to Harmony. “Who should I thank?”

“Your benefactor wishes to remain anonymous,” she said, nodding once at the Slave King. “Now get ready, your next opponent is about to be announced.”

He picked up his spear and tested his shoulder’s range of motion. It wasn’t even sore anymore. He was ready now. When he heard the flugelhorns announce the start of the next round of combat, he readied his spear. Because the jousting portion was completed, the finalists were to compete with their weapons of choice. As before, the only rules were no flying or magic. Looking at his opponent, he saw that he was facing one of Lord Triton’s seapony knights.

The knight was floating above the pitch in their magic bubble. Readying their trident, they bowed their armored head once as they waited for him. Likewise, Dawson held his spear in a defensive posture and nodded in return, signifying that he was ready to commence combat. Without a moment’s notice, the seapony charged with their trident pointed forward. Using the knight’s momentum against them, he parried with his spear, driving the trident into the ground. Hoping to score a point and ending the round, Dawson thrust his spear towards the joint between the knight’s breastplate and pauldron. His opponent quickly shifted their weight, forcing the spear thrust to impact against their trident instead.

Pulling his spear back, Dawson prepared himself for the knight’s counterattack. The knight swung the trident in an arc towards Dawson’s head. Seeing the attack being telegraphed, he shifted his weight to the right, trying to avoid the trident from clipping him. Suddenly he felt a sharp pain, he had forgotten about his relatively unprotected wings. Backing away from his opponent with his spear in a defensive posture, he tested his wings once, and was relieved when they seemed fine.

The flugelhorns sounded indicating that the round had gone to his opponent. Looking at the scoreboard, Dawson saw that his opponent had received two points. He knew he needed to score during the next round or he’d be disqualified. Turning to the Slave King, he held out his weapon in salute and turned to face the knight of the Lawgiver once more. The moment the flugelhorns sounded, he rushed forward and feinted with his spear. When the knight attempted to parry, he thrust upwards towards the knight’s helmet. When his spear connected, it made a satisfying clink, knocking the knight’s helmet off, revealing the flowing purple mane of a seapony mare.

When she realized that her helmet had been knocked off, her cheeks flushed crimson with embarrassment. Raising her trident, her emerald eyes narrowed with determination as she readied herself for her counterattack. Before she could strike, the flugelhorns sounded, indicating the end of the second round.

Dawson looked once at the seapony, and then at the scoreboard. He saw that he had been awarded three points for knocking her helmet off. Looking triumphantly at the mare, he picked up the helmet and handed it to her. Saying nothing, the chevaleresse dusted off her helmet and placed it squarely on her head. Walking back towards his starting position, he wondered what her story was. Was she like him, trying to prove herself to Lord Triton? Before he could dwell on the question, the flugelhorns sounded the third and final round.

Like a tsunami, the seapony mare unleashed a flurry of attacks at Dawson, not giving him a chance to counterattack. As he was being forced to slowly back up by her unrelenting assault, he realized he was going to be knocked out of the ring and disqualified if he didn’t do something soon. He decided to go for broke. Intentionally leaving himself open, he waited for her to exploit the opening. As expected, her next attack was a downward thrust at his legs.

Once she had committed herself to the attack, Dawson thrust his spear in between the trident’s tines, trapping it. Once the spear tip was firmly buried in the ground, he used his momentum to slam his elbow against her helmet, stunning her and making her drop her weapon. Seeing his chance to win the round, he slammed his foot on the trident and freed his spear. Thrusting it forward, he stopped just shy of her neck and waited for the round to be called is his favor.

Hearing the flugelhorns trumpet the end of the third round, he looked towards the board and saw that he was announced as the victor. Happy that he would be able to proceed to the next round, he reached down to hand the chevaleresse her weapon.

“Don’t touch my weapon, mudslinger filth,” the seapony mare growled. “I should have known one of the Slave King’s slaves would refuse to fight without honor.”

Dawson was about to say something rude, but decided against it. He didn’t want to risk getting disqualified. Turning his back to the knight of the Lawgiver, he walked out of the ring to wait for the next round of combat.

When she saw she was being ignored by him, the seapony’s green skin turned a bright shade of crimson. “Get back here you mudslinger thug,” she shouted. “The honor of ‘The Most Illustrious Order of Triton the Lawgiver’ has been impugned upon. And I, Dame Squall the Relentless, a chevaleresse of the order, will see you pay for the insult!”

Ignoring the furious seapony, Dawson sat down and tended to his nicked wing as he waited to see who his next opponent would be.

*****

So who do you think is going to enter the finals, Sombra or Dustin?” Princess Celestia asked, looking as the two were competing against different opponents.

“My knights are quite capable,” Lord Triton said, pointing a fin towards the fight below. “Dame Squall the Relentless is an accomplished chevaleresse. Dustin will find himself hard pressed to beat her.”

“How calamitous,” Princess Luna remarked, when she saw Squall’s trident hit Dustin’s exposed wing. “We hope his wound is only superficial.”

When Lady Zephyr saw the blood dripping down Dustin’s black wings staining them red, she cringed in sympathy. She knew Dawson’s wings were very sensitive, and thought that Dustin’s were probably as well. When she heard Lord Triton applauding his knight, she felt her blood rise.

“Jolly good!” he boasted to the Slave king, celebrating Dame Squall’s skill. “A most judicious use of the climbing the mountain technique.”

“Humph,” the Slave King grunted, slamming his cup down in annoyance. “Lawgiver, there are still two rounds left.”

“Well there are still three of my knights in the running, versus the two of yours,” Lord Triton said, pointing out the chances that the Slave King would win their wager was growing slim.

“Colts,” Princess Celestia said, giving each of them a stern look. “There’s no need for poor sportsponyship. Everypony in the contests have been a credit to the both of you. Perhaps one day we could have an interdomain sporting contest, bringing us together in friendly competition.”

The sound of the flugelhorns trumpeting the second round silenced everyone. As they watched both Dustin and Dame Squall’s weapons parrying with each other, the crowd gasped when they saw him knocking her helmet to the ground.

“You were saying Lawgiver?” the Slave King smugly said to Lord Triton, who was now sulking as he took a sip from his tankard.

“Everypony has their moments,” the Lawgiver retorted.

"Dustin has proven himself to act with chivalry,” Princess Luna said, when she saw him hand Dame Squall her helmet.

“Perhaps not all the children of the Earth are thuggish ill-tempered brutes after all,” Lord Triton said, approving of the gesture.

“Quiet,” Lady Zephyr said, “they are about to start the final round of combat.”

No one said a word as the two opponents fought each other with a fury reserved for the battlefield. Dame Squall unleashed a flurry of attacks, forcing Dustin towards the edge of the combat ring.

Watching their fight, the Slave King wondered why no one had brought such a skilled feathered folk to his attention before. His potential was clearly being wasted as a scout. Win or lose, he knew he would need to offer Dustin opportunities in the future.

Princess Luna sat entranced as she watched their weapons dance. She felt her heart racing as she waited to see who would be the victor. It had been many years since she could remember having this much fun. Perhaps the Slave King isn’t quite so terrible after all, she decided, giving him a thoughtful look.

Dustin was her son in disguise, she was sure of it now. From the way that he carried himself, to how he handled the spear, much of his fighting style consisted of classic griffin combat techniques. That, combined with the way her heart worried for him each time the flugelhorns sounded, told her all she needed to know. Dawson had placed himself in harm’s way hoping to prove himself to his father. Part of her was filled with pride that he had performed so well, but another part of her was filled with sorrow that he felt the need to go behind her back. Looking at the Slave King, she felt anger at his stubborn refusal to accept his son, and heartache at his refusal to return her affection. But that would all change next week, she thought. Soon, she and her son would each have what they desired.

Lord Triton had never felt prouder of his ponies. Despite not having done any preparation for the contests, his knights had held their own against the Slave King’s brutish thugs. Dame Squall especially, she had displayed both skill and grace today. Truly she was a credit to the order. In mere moments she would defeat the lad Dustin, and cinch his victory over that insufferable Slave King. Before he was able to toast his success, a quick succession of moves left him speechless.

Looking at the Slave King and Lord Triton, Princess Celestia felt very pleased with herself. She had managed to unite two bitter rivals in a common cause. Though she hated the celebration of violence these contests represented, she knew stallions needed an outlet for their aggressive natures. Perhaps this could be the start of something greater, she mused to herself. Once the Slave King’s inauguration has passed and he was properly dealt with, Equestria would be a relatively peaceful place once more.

Thinking back to the hurting child she found weeping in the cave, she wondered if he still suffered from the deep wound he kept hidden. Looking to her sister, she wondered if perhaps they might be able to help each other. He with her loneliness, and she with his broken heart. The sound of the flugelhorns trumpeting roused her from her thoughts. Looking down at the pitch, she saw that Dustin had won the contest.

“That was a travesty!” Lord Triton shouted at the pitch, before pointing a fin angrily at the Slave King. “This was supposed to be armed combat, not a barroom brawl! Slave King, I expect you to disqualify the ruffian!”

“There are only two rules,” the Slave King smugly said. “No flying and no magic. We’ve made allowances for your ponies’ unique needs, but don’t whine when they lose when they refuse to do what’s required to win.”

“I expected you to have a sense of fair play,” he said, upset that he had no recourse in this matter.

“Lawgiver, does that mean you wish to forfeit?” the Slave King said with a dark chuckle.

“I’ll win, and I’ll do it fair and square,” Lord Triton retorted, leaving the stone table in disgust.

“Where are you going Lord Triton?” he called out. “I’d hate for you to miss the next match.”

“To congratulate Dame Squall,” he said, heading down towards the pitch.

The Slave King drank from his cup, pleased with how easily he’d managed to rile Lord Triton. Looking at a frowning Princess Celestia, he strummed his fingers against the armrest of his stone throne, trying desperately to ignore her eyes burrowing into the back of his iron crown. Deciding he could take no more, he turned towards her. “What?” he demanded.

“That was unkind,” she said. “There’s no need to antagonize somepony who would be your friend and ally.”

“I’m not a kind person,” the he replied. “And Lord Triton has no desire to be my friend. He’ll only be friendly on his terms, not mine.”

Seeing that he was being stubborn once again, she sighed and drank deeply from her wine. It was going to be a long night.

*****

She was so angry she could scream. She had been bested by that no good mudslinger two bit thug. She would never live down the shame and disgrace she had brought to her people, the order, and most importantly to the Lawgiver. He had born witness to her disgraceful performance, and now she wished she could crawl into the Pit to wither away and die. Hiding her burning eyes from the jeering crowd, she silently wept. She could never return home and face the others. Exile was her only option now.

“You fought well, young chevaleresse,” a voice behind her said. The voice she heard sounded like stones being ground together, which sent a shiver running down her spine.

Turning around to confront the speaker, Dame Squall saw that it was none other than Scourge. Doing her best to hide her reddened eyes, she hid her muzzle behind her fin. “What do you want?” she stammered. “Have you come to mock me for falling to his dirty trick?”

“No,” Scourge said, looking at the seapony mare with his burning eyes. “I came to congratulate you, and to let you know I’d be proud to work with you in securing Bone’s Landing.”

“But you’re the master of ‘The Order of the Shadow’, the sworn enemy of ‘The Most Illustrious Order of Triton the Lawgiver’,” she said, confused by his cordial behavior.

“Our master’s quarrels needn’t be ours,” he replied, looking at the Slave King before he walked away.

She was perplexed. That Scourge himself, would offer kind words to her was incomprehensible. Feeling better, she wiped the tears from her eyes and began gathering her things to take back to her tent. Though she still felt robbed of her rightful victory, she no longer felt melancholy about the loss. While heading to her tent, she felt somepony standing behind her. “Yes she asked.”

“Does a knight of the Lawgiver have a moment to spare?” somepony asked her.

Turning around, she was about to ask to be left alone, when she saw who it was that spoke to her. “Lord Triton!” she said in surprise. Dropping to the ground in reverence, she bowed as low as she could. Feeling her soul burn with shame for having failed her liege, she dared not look him in the eye.

When she said nothing, Lord Triton reached down with his fin and gently pulled her up. “Daughter,” he said with benevolence in his eyes. “You have nothing to be ashamed of. You conducted yourself with honor and grace. And though you didn’t win, you’ve brought honor to my name and the order’s. Hold your head high, for you are a knight of the Lawgiver, and none are more worthy.”

When she heard Lord Triton’s words, Dame Squall wept openly with joy. There was no greater honor a member of ‘The Most Illustrious Order of Triton the Lawgiver’ could aspire to, then praise from the Lawgiver himself. “Thank you…” she whispered.

“Sir Hurricane, the Gallant, has pledged to win in your name,” the Lawgiver said, pointing to a giant seapony standing at his side.

“Chevaleresse, the order will have its revenge this day, I swear it.” Sir Hurricane said, gently kissing her fin.

“I shall cheer for you,” she said, presenting her trident in salute.

“Knights, let us show these brigands our superior skill and breeding,” Lord Triton said, giving the Slave King a baleful look.

“Yes, my liege,” both knights of the Lawgiver said together. However, Dame Squall felt reticent. When she remembered what Scourge had told her, “Our master’s quarrels needn’t be ours.” Perhaps there was a better way after all, she thought. When she passed by Dustin on her way to her tent, she felt the righteous fury of her order’s cry for vengeance course through her breast and decided, not today, mudslinger, not today.

*****

Dawson stood at the opposite side of the ring from Sombra, who wore a twisted sneer. “Half-breed, I will break you!” he snarled, stamping his hoof impatiently.

Dawson remained silent, instead leveling his spear at Sombra in response. When the flugelhorns sounded signifying the start of their fight, he approached Sombra’s right flank with his spear pointed forward. He knew due to his opponent’s nature, all he could expect is charge attacks with his horn and lance, and short range sweeping attacks with his tail flail. Without being able to use his magic, Sombra was vulnerable to flanking maneuvers at range.

When Sombra saw Dawson trying to flank him, he prepared to flick his tail flail at him. Lowering his horn, he charged forward hoping to gore him with his horn or crush him with the flail. Charging forward, he felt his front right fetlock scream in pain as Dawson deftly avoided his first attack. Looking down, he saw his blood oozing out of a deep wound right beneath where his armor met his shoulder. Though it was against the rules, he flicked his tail flail at Dawson right as the flugelhorns sounded the end of round one.

Dawson had his back to Sombra and didn’t see the tail flail coming. When it impacted against his knee, he gasped in pain as he fell to the ground. Gingerly, he felt his knee and was relieved to find it was only badly bruised and not shattered. Glaring angrily at Sombra, he was tempted to thrust his spear in retaliation but didn’t want to get disqualified. Instead, he stood up and waited to see if they would disqualify his opponent.

*****

The Slave King was unhappy. Once again, he was being forced to mediate a dispute between his two most senior officers. “Tell me again,” he said, giving the two doomhounds standing inside his tent an annoyed look, “why I shouldn’t just put the lot of you in the Cavern of Torment for a year and be done with it?”

“Because that would mean that Lord Triton would win your wager by default,” Second said, wearing his usual malevolent smile.

“My king,” Scourge said with a respectful bow, “there are few others that can be trusted to run things in Bone’s Landing until its operating smoothly. Should we all spend a year as statues, you would essentially be handing control of the city to Lord Triton. That would make the sacking and capture of the city to have been a pointless endeavor.”

“Scourge, I thank you,” the Slave King said, softening his hardened voice. “Your wise council over the years has saved me from making many hasty choices I would have later regretted.”

“There’s still the matter of Sombra’s cowardly attack,” Scourge said, looking darkly at Second.

“Slave King,” Second retorted, “aren’t there but two rules to these contests, no magic and no flying? Sombra used neither.”

The Slave King felt rather vexed, he wanted to punish Sombra for hitting Dustin when the round had been called in his favor. But he couldn’t, because he hadn’t technically broken any rules. With Lord Triton watching him wrestle with himself, he knew unless he let it go, the Lawgiver would demand reparations for Dame Squall’s match. Looking Second directly in the eye, he pointed a finger at Sombra. “Second, I know Sombra is a pawn in whatever scheme you’re plotting,” he said, making sure his servant was reminded who the master was here. “Circumstances might favor you now, but that won’t always be the case. Remember that.”

“Of course, Slave King,” Second said, bowing slightly and still wearing his mocking grin. “Provided Sombra continues to prove himself useful, I’ll ensure he’s a useful asset to you. Otherwise, I’ll deal with him should he prove to be unmanageable.”

“See that you do,” the Slave King curtly said. “I expect no more incidents to occur tonight or any other untoward accidents.”

“Slave King, I’ll see to it personally,” Second said, his eyes burning with malevolence before walking away.

“My king,” Scourge said, bowing respectfully, “he’s plotting against you.”

“I know,” he said, patting Scourge’s black armor. “But how does the old saying go?”

“Keep your friends close and your enemies closer?” Scourge volunteered.

“Yes,” he agreed. “All the same, I’d like you to keep an eye on things. The last thing I need is Lord Triton threatening war over the misbehavior of my underlings.”

“Rest easy my king,” Scourge said, “I’ll ensure no mischief occurs.”

“No mischief?” he asked with a knowing smile.

“Well none by any others,” Scourge said with a laugh. “I’ll see you later at the award ceremony, my king.”

Watching Scourge walk away, the Slave King felt gratitude that he had such a loyal friend serving him. During his entire time in Equestria, he had only met one other that he would consider a true friend. Looking up towards the sun overhead, he sighed. “Snowe,” he whispered, “wherever you are, please watch over her until I can bring her back.”

Exiting his tent and returning to his stone throne, he braced himself for Lord Triton’s barbs. When none were forthcoming, he looked questioningly at the Lawgiver.

“I’m sure you handled things with impartiality and jurisprudence,” Lord Triton said to the Slave King. “I’m looking forward to watching Dustin in round two.”

“As am I,” Princess Celestia said.

Sighing once, the Slave King nodded to Harmony, who alerted the flugelhorn trumpeters. When they sounded, he watched Sombra like a hawk just waiting for the opportunity to turn him into a statue.

*****

Dawson’s knee hurt like the Pit. Raising his spear, he managed to deflect Sombra’s razor sharp horn causing sparks to fly. Hobbling backwards to find a more secure position, he held his spear in the middle guard stance. Currently he held the lead, if he could score again against his opponent, he would move on. He just needed to be careful and watch for an opening.

Dawson noticed Sombra seemed to favor his left side now. Attacking his right rear flank now seemed to be the best idea. Even though the tail flail presented a danger, with his spear’s longer reach he had the advantage. Switching to the high guard stance, he prepared to make his move before he was charged once again. Seeing his chance, he stepped forward hoping to land the winning blow.

Before Dawson could make his move, something grabbed a hold of his leg. Losing his balance he fell forward, hitting the ground hard. Before he could recover, he felt the wind getting knocked out of him as Sombra’s hard hooves smashed against his breastplate. Hoping to defend himself, he tried raising his spear but felt his arm break as Sombra pounded him with his iron shod hooves. Fearing that the next blow would be fatal, he tapped into the latent Earth magic that flowed through him to create a shield.

Before he could finish casting, Dawson heard the trumpet of the flugelhorns playing, signifying the round was now over. With a bruised knee, crushed back, and broken arm he found himself unable to rise. The last thing he heard before losing consciousness was Sombra’s mocking laughter as he said, “See half-breed, I told you I would break you.”

*****

When she saw the beating Dustin was taking, all of Lady Zephyr’s maternal instincts screamed for her to rescue her son. But knowing how much gaining the Slave King’s respect meant to him, she held still and waited. Looking at the vicious grey unicorn that had beaten her son senseless, she vowed he would know the wrath of the griffins one day.

When she saw the violence being used against her favored champion, the sight made Princess Luna blanche. That Sombra character certainly was a cruel brute, and she hoped that Sir Hurricane the Gallant would beat the stuffing out of him. Looking on as Dustin was carried off the field, her heart went out to him in hopes that he would have a speedy recovery.

Glowering at Shadow Knight Sombra, the Slave King wanted to make an exception for Dustin but couldn’t. Even though he had used magic in an attempt to save his own life, using magic in these contests in any capacity was strictly forbidden. He had no choice but to disqualify him. Motioning for Melody to come to his side, he whispered something into her ear. Nodding her head in acknowledgment, she entered his tent before heading towards the pitch.

*****

“Hey sleepyhead, it’s time to rise and shine!” Dawson heard a cheerful voice say.

“Oh, I feel horrible,” Dawson moaned as his body screamed in agony. Opening his eyes, he saw Melody the Yellow looking down at him with a concerned look on her face.

“Well you did take a bit of a tumble there,” Melody said, in a teasing tone.

“I took more than a tumble,” he groaned. Looking down at his broken arm, he sighed. “My mother is going to kill me, when she finds out.”

“Oh I don’t know about that,” Melody said with a conspiratorial wink, while holding up a small bottle filled with a luminescent green liquid. “Dawson, drink the contents and you’ll be as right as rain.”

Hastily, he removed the bottle’s stopper and drained its contents in one gulp. Instantly he felt revitalized, as the liquid infused his body with rapid healing. He could feel the aches and pains slowly fading away, as his arm rapidly began knitting itself. Within minutes, he felt well enough to leave the bed.

With his injuries tended to, he immediately remembered the combat. He’d tried using magic! He was sure to be disqualified now. He sat up in his cot and looked Melody in the eye. “Did… did I get disqualified?” he asked, afraid to hear the answer.

Looking into Dawson’s worry filled eyes, she nodded affirmatively. “I’m sorry Dawson, the Slave King had no choice when you tried creating a magic shield,” she said, placing her hand on his shoulder comfortingly.

Feeling sullen and depressed, he buried his face into his talons. Now he’d never get a chance to redeem himself. “I’m sorry Melody,” he said. “You went through all that trouble to help me, and I failed.”

“You didn’t fail Dawson,” she disagreed, sitting beside him on the cot. “You did very well, especially against such a seasoned veteran. You impressed everyfeather who was watching. Even Lord Triton was impressed with your skills.”

“What about the Slave King?” he asked, hoping he had finally won his approval. As far as he was concerned, even if the entire pantheon hailed him a hero, it was all for naught unless he had impressed the Slave King.

“Honestly I don’t know,” she said, admitting she was unsure as to the Slave King’s true temperament. “I do know he was rather animated when your matches were happening, but beyond that it’s a mystery.”

“I should go…” he said, not wanting to be here any longer.

“Nonsense,” she said, squeezing his shoulder. “There’s still a party going on. And maybe you can watch Sombra get his flanks kicked by Sir Hurricane.”

When Dawson heard Melody mention watching Sombra get pounded into submission by Sir Hurricane the Gallant, he smiled wide. “That sounds like it could be enjoyable,” he said.

“I thought you might say something like that,” she replied, smiling as well. “Plus there’s plenty of meat to be had, and enough booze to get lucky three times over.”

When she mentioned food, he felt his stomach rumble in complaint. “That meat sounds pretty appetizing,” he said.

“Then what are we waiting for?” she asked, pulling him out of the medic’s tent. “To the buffet!”

*****

Dame Squall wrinkled her nose at the stench of the cooking meat filling her nostrils. Fortunately these mudslinger barbarians also had plant based options on the menu as well as her favorite, grilled fish. Helping herself to few skewers of roasted fish and several roasted apples, she sat down watching the archery matches that were currently in progress. Though archery wasn’t a traditional seapony military discipline, she could appreciate the skill with which the competitors were hitting their targets.

Currently favored to win was Aria the Red, the presumptive successor to Master Scourge and the current reigning archery champion. Effortlessly, Aria was releasing arrows one after another, hitting her targets in quick succession. With warriors like this under his employ, she could see why the Slave King had managed to defeat Bone Landing’s garrison. Though they were greater in number then the attackers, they were primarily comprised of seaponies augmented with a few units of reindeer battlemages. Though ‘The Most Illustrious Order of Triton the Lawgiver’, accepted any and all who were worthy, with only a few exceptions the majority of their number consisted mainly of seaponies. Say what you wanted to about the ‘Order of the Shadow’, they continued to grow in number, while her own order’s influence waned.

“Unless we can get more of the other races to join,” she mused, worried about the future of her order. “We might be regulated to irrelevance in shaping Equestria’s future.”

Noticing Dustin and another feathered folk she wasn’t familiar with, eating and relaxing together as they watched the archery matches made her anger rise. Thanks to that sneaky mudslinger, she had been embarrassed in front of her whole order and the Lawgiver. Deciding to give him a piece of her mind, Dame Squall finished her meal, and marched over towards them.

*****

Dawson and Melody were sharing a spit of meat and a couple tankards of ale, when they heard an angry voice shouting at them. “Hey you mudslinger coward!” the voice angrily said.

Looking up from his meal, Dawson covered his face with his shemagh and stood up to face the feather that was challenging him. Spying Dame Squall, he stood his ground as he answered her. “Who are you calling a mudslinger?” he demanded.

“I only see one mudslinger coward,” she said, pointing a fin accusingly at him. “And he’s standing right in front of me!”

Melody, who loved a good fight every now and then, picked up her lute. Thinking of a proper tune to play, she began plucking her lute as she softly sang.

There was a girl, an angry girl, as mad as she could be…

She hailed from the west, she was a child from the sea…

The man she hated was from the south, with wings of furious might…

She felt her honor had been besmirched, and so she was itching for a fight…

Dame Squall moved right in front of Dawson’s shemagh covered faced, glaring angrily at him. Dawson pushed back the brim of his hat, and flexed his talons.

These two warriors stood muzzle to beak, with weapons ready to withdraw…

She had her tarnished honor to restore, and her liege’s righteous laws to defend…

While he had a destiny he wished to seek, and his father’s respect to earn…

Were the two really so different, alas the tale doesn’t tell…

“I’ll make you sorry you ever crossed a knight of the Lawgiver,” Dame Squall said, preparing to strike a blow against the mudslinger.

“Lady, I already am,” he retorted, balling up his talons into a fist.

Before the first blow could be struck, by the girl against the man…

Lady Suzaku flew past and wished each of them good luck…

The man looked at the girl, and she looked back at him…

Then instead of trading blows, they instead shared a kiss…

Before he knew what was happening, he felt her removing his shemagh and place a kiss squarely on his beak. Shocked by what had just happened to him, his face flushed crimson. “What the Hades!” he shouted, confused by her behavior.

When she realized what she had just done, she narrowed her emerald eyes in anger. “You… you treacherous pig!” she spat, slapping Dawson across the face. She felt disgusted with herself for having kissed a mudslinger barbarian, she could only be grateful that nopony important saw her transgression. “How dare you use your wiles to try seducing a chaste chevaleresse of the Lawgiver? I won’t fall prey to your trickery again.”

“You kissed me, you harpy!” Dawson spat, furious that she had managed to see his face.

Deciding that things had gone far enough, Melody stopped playing her lute and got between the two. “Come on you lovebirds,” she teased, “that’s no way to behave.”

“Lovebirds?” Dame Squall sputtered. “I could never love a mudslinger!”

“Ah, it’s just a figure of speech,” Melody replied, with a wink. “Dustin, why not go get the chevaleresse a drink?”

“Why, so she can throw it in my face?” he angrily said, still steaming over having been slapped by her.

“Come on…” Melody said, batting her eyes. “What if I said pretty please?”

“Ugh, fine whatever,” he said, leaving to get Squall a mug of ale.

“So Dame Squall, why so angry?” Melody innocently asked, while playing her lute.

“Dustin cheated me out of my victory, and embarrassed me in front of my entire order and liege,” she pouted.

Melody nodded while plucking a few strings on her lute. “Was it hard fighting such a handsome fellow?” she asked, playing a few chords.

“Well handsome or not, we were engaged in combat,” Dame Squall said. “It would have been improper to hold back.”

“Well you’re not fighting him now,” Melody replied, “was that why you kissed him?”

“Ye… What? No, of course not!” Dame Squall said, vehemently denying any attraction she might have for her most hated enemy. “It is as I said. He beguiled and seduced me with his wanton charms.”

“I think you’re not telling the truth,” Melody said with a teasing smile. “I think you like him.”

“Why I never!” Dame Squall huffed. “I’ve had just about enough of mudslinger’s to last me a lifetime.”

“It’s okay,” Melody said, strumming her lute. “There’s no reason to be embarrassed I think he likes you too. Did you see the how red his face got, when you kissed him?”

When she remembered their kiss, her pale green skin turned a bright shade of red. What could have possessed her to have willingly done that? Perhaps she had a latent desire to go roll around in the mud after all. But when she thought of how her rightful victory was snatched out of her grasp by his cheap trick, she refused to entertain the idea. The very thought was preposterous. When Dawson returned with a large mug of ale, she accepted the offering and drank from it heavily. She was going to need several more mugs of ale to help her forget this day.

The ale seemed to have smoothed out the tensions between Dawson and Squall. They drank together in silence, while waiting for the flugelhorns to announce the final contest of the day as Melody gently strummed her lute.

*****

The Slave King and Lord Triton waited as the final contest of the day was about to begin. There were champions already decided, for jousting, archery, and magic. Now, only the final match was left to determine today’s champion.

Lady Zephyr was beside herself with worry. Who knew how badly her son had been hurt? She longed to go to the medic’s tent and demand to see her son, but still didn’t want to risk embarrassing Dawson or herself if she turned out to be wrong. Her only consolation was hopefully getting to see that beast Sombra get what was coming to him.

Looking at Princess Celestia, she noted that she was doing her best to be a good guest. She was providing the entire table with pleasant conversation, witty banter, and gentle laughter. In stark contrast to her sister, Princess Luna, who was loudly cheering and monopolizing the Slave King’s attention. Attention that by rights should be hers! While she fumed in silence, sitting somewhere between worry and anger, the flugelhorns sounded the start of the last round of combat.

“So Slave King, are you prepared to face defeat at the fin of one who’s more worthy?” Lord Triton said, boasting about his knight’s superior skills.

“So confident are you?” the Slave King retorted, not missing a beat. “I shall enjoy hearing you say, my ways are better and that my people are superior,”

As the two deities argued they failed to watch the match as it progressed. Sir Hurricane the Gallant, was even more skilled that Dawson. Try as he might, Sombra was hard pressed to get close enough to strike with either his horn, hooves, or flail. Every time he tried, the seapony knight would either deftly avoid his thrusts and strikes, or parry with his weapon. To his credit, he had yet to be struck by Sir Hurricane’s weapon, but it would only be a matter of time until that happened.

Winded and tired, Sombra was moving much more slowly now. Every attack he tried was being foiled. In desperation, he took a risk and charged right at the seapony. While flying through the air, time seemed to slow down. A black blur in his peripheral vision caught his attention and he knew it was time to strike. Veering to the left, he flicked his tail flail right at Sir Hurricane’s head. With a solid crack the flail made contact with seapony flesh.

Turning around, Sombra lowered his horn in preparation to make another charge at his opponent. When Sir Hurricane, failed to turn and face him he smiled. He knew he had just won. Master Second would be pleased, and he would receive any boon of his choosing from the Slave King.

Trotting up to Sir Hurricane, Sombra roughly shoved the still standing seapony, making him fall muzzlefirst into the muddy earth.

Author's Note

Thank you gentlereader for reading chapter five of The Book of Water: The Marriage of the Slave King, as always comments and criticisms are appreciated. Well things look like they are heating up, first with Dawson's disqualification, and Sombra winning the match, who saw that coming? We can only say it was a run of good luck that Sombra seemed to be having. We can only surmise that he has friends in high places. With the introduction of Dame Squall we have a possible friend or rival for Dawson, only time will tell if it's the one or the other. But what an exciting contest, am I right? Truly everypony was on the edge of their seats, everypony besides the Slave king that is. I wonder what his problem is?

Regarding Lady Zephyr and Princess Luna, there seems to be a bit of tension building up between the two of them. I wonder how that will play out. Princess Luna certainly seems rather conflicted on how she feels about the Slave King. I wonder where things will go from here. Princess Celestia certainly seems rather happy how things have ended up, I wonder what she has planned for the Slave King, nothing he desires I'd wager. With the Slave King the winner of their little wager, I wonder how Lord Triton will react now that he has to admit the Slave King has bested him.

Once again gentlereader thanks for reading, until next time!

P.S. I'm still working on securing cover art for this story. I'm considering commissioning an artist (paid with their choice of hookers and blow, or cash), if you might be interested in making the cover art, send me a PM and we'll talk turkey.

P.P.S. I came across this story A Cog in the Machine, at only fifty likes it's under read and under appreciated. I enjoyed reading it, you might as well. At 175k words and with an entertaining plot I recommend it gentlereader.

Chapter 7: A Requiem of Sorrow, a Forlorn Lover's Lament

The Book of Water: The Marriage of the Slave King

A Story by TalonMach5

Chapter 7: A Requiem of Sorrow, a Forlorn Lover's Lament

The children are crying. I don’t know where they are but I can feel it in my ancient bones, the children are crying. We were great once, all feared to tread where our shadows touched, but that was long ago. Now the children are crying, but I cannot find them. I am all alone now. I see my nest, and it is empty. I have brought them many gems to sate their hunger, but I cannot find the children. I hear their cries of hunger, but they are missing. The children are crying, and must be hungry. I look to the west, but Celestia’s children bar the way. So I return home with gems in claw, and weep for them, my missing children. I look to the east for recourse, for aid, but am cruelly turned away by the great one. The sun is setting, I am alone in my cave, and the children are crying. I try singing to the children, but my songs cannot reach them. It is dark inside my cave. I close my eyes, but I still hear their cries. I am alone, and the children are crying.

-Mirenella Silverwing, dragon poetess, A Mother’s Lament

Far above him, the stars in the night sky were sparkling like diamonds against black velvet. The moon tonight was especially bright, making it possible for him to read the parchment in front of him unaided by his lantern, containing this year’s almanac. Studying the stars above him, he could tell they were somehow different tonight. Unlike previous nights, the heavens seemed almost radiant with their brilliance. Consulting the almanac in front of him, he was almost certain it was either due to Princess Luna having had sex recently, falling in love, or having had a remarkable day. Regardless of the princess’s personal activities, he assumed she had had a wonderful time.

But regardless of her good moods, all the work he planned for tonight would have to be postponed. With such a wide variation in the skies luminance, reading the constellations reliably tonight would be next to impossible. Cast it all to the Pit, he bitterly thought. The Grand Celestial Conjunction is less than a week away, and I can’t do a thing about it.

The Grand Celestial Conjunction was a momentous yearly occurrence for his people, this one especially. It would be the first in nearly five hundred years that the southern constellation would fully align with Luna’s moon, the Pole Star signifying Celestia, and the constellation of the Hammer signifying the Lawgiver. For the first time since the passing of Lord Darkpaw, the tyrant in the South would finally be under the full dominion of the pantheon in its entirety.

Though it was a waste to do so, he decided that he would attempt reading the stars anyway. Staring up into the sky with his milky blue eyes, and aided by his stone observatory, he noted that several of the other constellations and heavenly bodies appeared to be within the influence of the southern constellation. The Hunter signifying Lady Zephyr, the Lovely Flower signifying Lady Suzaku, and a barely visible star known only as the Dark One, within the week, would have great influence on this year’s conjunction. However occurring simultaneously, in opposition to the southern constellation, there was the spear signifying Lord Cerynitis, the Hidden Knife signifying conspiracy, and the Twins signifying kin, possibly a brother. On top of so many other signs, there was also the issue that this year’s conjunction would occur between the Lover’s signifying an unlikely romance and the Soldier signifying war.

Not in his nearly sixty years as a sage, had he ever seen such a convoluted mess of signs and portents. Oh how he wished that the night sky would follow a normal and predictable pattern, instead of changing on a whim like it was wont to do. But such was the domain of the pantheon, and it wasn’t his place to criticize.

“Can I get you more tea, Sage Zhange?” a diminutive yellow fluttering creature asked.

Looking up from his almanac, the ancient sage nodded once and smiled appreciatively. “That would be wonderful Glitterwing,” he said to her. “My disciple, sometimes these nights can get so cold for these old bones.”

“One cup of piping hot tea coming right up master!” Glitterwing replied, her gossamer wings sparkling in the moonlight while humming a happy little tune. “Would you prefer green tea or black, master?”

“Glitterwing, green tea would be fine,” he said to his tiny companion. Though he was an aged and renowned kirin sage of over one hundred thirty years old, having a disciple like Glitterwing attending to his sundry needs had made his life so much easier. Though her race was small in stature, they possessed considerable arcane might. He could still remember the day that the tiny flutterpony had arrived at his doorstep, begging him to teach her how to read the heavens, so she could help her reclusive people.

At over a century old, with a faded grey coat and horns warped with age, he was in no condition to take on a disciple, especially one as excitable as she seemed to be. Much like a hummingbird, she could scarcely stop moving in her excitement, as she pleaded her case to him. For nearly two years he’d sent her on arduous quests, mind numbingly repetitious tasks, and even dangerous missions, hoping to dissuade her from pursuing him as her master. But time and again, she proved herself more than capable and patient. Eventually, he begrudgingly accepted her as his disciple, notwithstanding his advanced age. Now after having served him faithfully for nearly decade, he wouldn’t know what he would do without her as his disciple.

“Master Zhange,” she said, levitating a cup of tea into his own telekinetic grasp and looking up at the heavens tentatively with her large pink eyes. “You should get some rest. You’ll get no work done tonight. Princess Luna has been inconsiderate this evening, to those of us who study the heavens!”

“Is that all you see, my disciple?” the aged kirin asked, slowly draining the tea from his cup.

“Well, beyond the obvious fact that Princess Luna felt the need to share with all creation that she has a new paramour,” Glitterwing murmured, flittering back and forth and changing her orientation as she studied the stars while referring to the almanac. “Hmm… this seems odd.”

“What does?” he asked, gazing at his disciple’s pale blue mane that blended almost perfectly with the night sky.

“I believe the Slave King will be getting married soon and then kill his wife, or vice versa,” she remarked, tapping her hoof against her muzzle. “The stars don’t really seem too clear about that.”

“Well that seems rather unlikely, my disciple,” he said, giving her a gentle smile. “What does your true sight tell you?”

When Glitterwing heard her master ask her to see with her true sight, she suddenly felt nervous. Seeing without seeing was something she always struggled with. Though she had been Sage Zhange’s disciple for nearly a decade, she hadn’t yet learned to reliably use sight beyond sight. Closing her eyes, she meditated, allowing her chakras to open in hopes that her mind’s eye would open.

As she meditated, time seemed to slow down as she caught brief glimpses of the stars true intent. She saw the heartless one on his stone throne looking to the South, while the North, Center, and East encircled him, hoping to imprison him. She saw the East retreating, spiriting away his most precious treasure. While the heartless one’s left hand and finger crushed the crystal of the north, winter raged all around him. All the while, she saw Equestria’s rivers slowly turn to blood, and a pair of terrible burning eyes peering into her soul.

When she saw the eyes, those terrifying burning eyes, she opened hers and screamed. “Ahhh!” she cried out, shivering with fear and trying desperately to calm her racing heart. “Master it was terrible.”

“Be at peace, my disciple,” Sage Zhange said, enveloping her in his magic and placing her on his back.

Glitterwing burrowed beneath his long greying coat. Shivering with fright, she was grateful for an opportunity to hide from the evil she had seen. She sniffed once, hoping to banish the tears threatening to escape. “Forgive my weakness master…” she quietly said, ashamed that she had been unable to withstand the dark vision she had seen.

“Fear not, my disciple, the visions you saw though bleak, are but things that might occur,” he gently chided her. “Tell me what you saw with your true sight.”

“Master,” Glitterwing said, poking her head out from beneath his flowing white beard. “I saw a great calamity in the south. The North, Center, and East all seek to imprison it. The East shall steal the South’s most precious treasure, while his left hand and finger shall crush the crystal of the north. Winter shall rage, and the rivers turn to blood. And the eyes master, the burning eyes. The burning eyes seek his destruction.”

“Good, my disciple, you have read the portents correctly,” he said to her, while revealing no emotion.

“Shall we warn Lord Raiden, Master Zhange?” she asked, leaving his beard and preparing to write a message.

The aged kirin thought for a moment before shaking his head. “No, Lord Raiden would simply say, what is to be, will be,” he replied. “It’s no secret that he thinks that the tyrant is of little consequence.”

“Then what shall we do master?” she worriedly asked. “Surely we should do something.”

Sage Zhange’s bones ached in the cold. He was much too old to leave his tower to go adventuring. And his disciple was much too inexperienced to go traipsing all across Equestria by herself. Besides, if she left who would make him his tea? After all, the tyrant in the South was not their problem.

“Glitterwing, my disciple, I shall meditate on this,” he said, finishing the remainder of his cold tea. “We must be patient, and not act prematurely.”

“But I think my vision was warning me something bad might happen! We need to…” she objected, before being silenced by a stern look from him. “Excuse me for speaking out of turn master.”

“You’re exuberance in this matter is forgiven, my disciple,” Sage Zhange said, heading towards the stairs to leave his observatory. “Come, Glitterwing, we shall speak no more tonight of this matter.”

Nodding once solemnly at her master’s command, she hastily gathered all the scrolls, charts, and other assorted papers he had left behind, before following after him into the tower’s much warmer interior. Before entering it, she looked back up at the constellation of the dagger looming to the north, and shivered.

*****

“So can anyone tell me what happened?” the Slave King asked, thrumming his fingers methodically against his stone throne’s armrest under the pale light of the full moon.

“Losing the changeling saboteur was my fault, these two were only along for the ride,” Melody volunteered, stepping forward to accept the blame.

Dawson had been about to speak up, when she willingly took responsibility for what had happened. He couldn’t believe it. She was taking the heat for them without a second thought. Looking at Melody, he noticed a change had come over her. Gone was the cheerful grin she always wore, in its place was the face of a calm and composed warrior, somefeather who stood unflinching beneath the Slave King’s burning gaze. In this moment he was proud to have fought beside her, and to claim her as kin.

Looking at the petty tyrant wearing his iron crown, Dame Squall tired her best to be unaffected by his presence, but found she was having trouble ignoring his frightening appearance. Looking at the harper, she had no idea how she was able to do it. Had she disappointed Lord Triton in this way, she would have bowed her head in shame. Instead, Melody looked the Slave King in the eyes without fear of reproach. Though she was nothing but a mudslinger, and the offspring of a wanderer at that, she decided that she would need to get to know her better. She was obviously somepony of quality, and somepony worth knowing.

The Slave King gave his harper a curious look when he heard her taking sole responsibility for losing the changeling. In truth, he wasn’t all that surprised that it managed to give them the slip. Changelings were remarkably tough to pin down, and according to what he’d been told, they’d nearly managed to stop it all together. He was actually more impressed by how well the three of them had worked together. He still remembered the things Dame Squall had shouted at Dustin when she had lost their fight, and yet here she was, willingly fighting alongside a former rival. He thought back to what Princess Celestia had told him earlier, There’s no need to antagonize somepony who would be your friend and ally.

“Melody, I’m displeased with what transpired tonight,” he said, as she looked away from him. “You were reckless, and almost died. You should have sought out Scourge first.”

“Yes, Slave King,” she said, crestfallen that she had disappointed him. “I’m sorry for failing you.”

“You didn’t fail me, Melody,” he softly replied. “We can always track the changeling’s trail, but losing you to an assassin’s knife would be most distressing. Please be more careful in the future.”

“Yes Slave King,” she said, bowing before his stone throne.

“So, young chevaleresse,” the Slave King said giving Dame Squall a thoughtful look, “how did you end up mixed up in all this?”

“When Melody, the Yellow announced that she’d discovered the assassin, I knew I had to avenge Sir Hurricane’s slayer!” she boldly said, looking the Slave King directly in the eyes. “My only regret is that the devil escaped, before I could deliver the Lawgiver’s divine justice to it!”

“Chevaleresse, Sir Hurricane has no need of being avenged by you,” he said, looking down at the city lying on the plain below.

“How dare you!” Dame Squall shouted, incensed that this black hearted devil thought that she was incapable of avenging Sir Hurricane’s murder. “Scoundrel, I don’t care if you are the Lord of Earth. I will avenge Sir Hurricane, the Gallant’s murder if it the last thing I do. I so swear it on the Western Sea, and by my honor, he will be avenged!”

When he heard her audacious claim, he released a low chuckle. Looking at the indignant seapony mare, he was reminded of another of Lord Triton’s knights that had also stood up to him. Though the encounter had cost him an arm, he still thought warmly of the memory, and smiled at her.

Looking into his burning eyes, she prepared herself to face his wrath for having stood up to him. When she heard his laughter, her cheeks burned crimson with anger. Did the monster think so little of her prowess in battle, to mock her before he crushed her? Narrowing her eyes defiantly, she looked the smiling beast in the eye. “I don’t care if you smite me,” she hotly replied. “I will avenge him, and neither you nor any other member of the pantheon will stop me!”

“I do so enjoy Lord Triton’s followers,” he said, giving her an appreciative nod. “But fear not, chevaleresse, you shall not be smitten tonight. I only meant to say that Sir Hurricane, the Gallant yet lives. Lord Triton saw to that.”

When she heard that Sir Hurricane was still among the living, she nearly wept with relief. “Slave King, thank you for telling me,” she said, looking towards Lord Triton’s camp on the beach.

Seeing that she wished to consult with Lord Triton, he gestured towards the Lawgiver’s camp. “Chevaleresse, you are dismissed. And tell the Lawgiver, I look forward to tomorrow’s meeting.”

Dame Squall curtly bowed, before heading to the beach. She was surprised by how laid back he seemed to be, she had half expected him to rage and threaten Melody for their failure in stopping the changeling. Instead he’d acted almost relieved that she had safely returned to him.

*****

Once Dame Squall had left them, the Slave King gave Dawson a curious look. “Dustin of the feathered folk tribe,” he said. “I was told you were a scout on the lookout for dragon gem raiders on my eastern border. I find that curious, considering that we’ve never bothered with sending scouts out that way. Who are you really?”

Melody attempted to open her mouth to say something, before she was silenced with a stern look from the Slave King. “Melody, allow him to answer,” he said.

Dawson looked around hoping that his mother wasn’t nearby. When he failed to see her, he removed the shemagh revealing his face to the Slave King. “My name isn’t Dustin, Your Majesty. I am Dawson, the griffin-half, of the Golden Eyrie.”

When he learned Dustin’s true identity, he wanted to laugh. In retrospect, it should have been so obvious. However, hindsight was always twenty-twenty. A small part of him felt immense pride at how well Lady Zephyr’s son had done in the tournament. However, he still had the small problem of him entering the tournament under a false identity. Then there was the issue of the boy’s mother. How he dreaded having that conversation with her.

Struggling with trying to decide how he should respond, he thought back to his brother, Snowe, the griffin. He always had the answer for everything. Whenever Little Bleu came to him with a problem he had no answer for, he always turned to the mottled griffin for guidance. Sadly, the centuries hadn’t seemed to make him any wiser regarding this particular quandary. The law demanded the boy be punished for what he did, but seeing how he wasn’t under his jurisdiction he was unable to. Additionally, his every instinct was screaming at him to take the boy under his wing. Someone so skilled would be a valuable asset. However, he knew exactly why the boy was so keen on serving him, and he had no room for someone who wished to take her place.

It was so aggravating. Snowe, I long for your council. How I wish that you were here, he thought to himself.

He could still hear the stern but kindly tone of his sworn brother’s voice. Hey you hairless monkey. What seems to be the problem? Snowe asked him while wearing a wry smile.

I don’t know how to deal with this boy, King replied. I just wish I knew what to do.

Yes, you do, Snowe said, rolling his eyes at the hapless human. Remember back when Lasher was being rough with Little Bleu?

Yes, he said. I remember. But this seems to be a different situation.

Fledglings are the same the world over, Snowe replied, placing a talon on his brother’s shoulder.

I can’t do it, he said, refusing to look the griffin in the eye.

Can’t or won’t? Snowe responded, turning to leave.

I won’t do that her, he answered, stubbornly refusing to yield to his brother’s wisdom.

Brother, she would understand, Snowe said. She would never want you to live like this.

King looked down at the ground, refusing to answer.

Remember brother, he said, touching a talon to his brother’s scarred chest. I’m always here when you need me, as is she.

Thank you brother, King said, wishing that he didn’t have to leave.

Just don’t go making a mess of things with Dawson, like you did Aria, Snowe said, before fading into the darkness that surrounded them.

Finding himself alone once more, the Slave King looked up at the anxiously waiting griffin-half. Knowing he wasn’t ready to face what he represented, he decided to dismiss him. “Dawson of the Golden Eyrie,” he said. “Because of the aid you rendered Melody in attempting to subdue the changeling, I’ll overlook that fact that you entered the contest while impersonating one of my soldiers. You’re free to go to your mother.”

When he heard the Slave King’s words, Dawson felt the anger from earlier, creep back into his heart. He was so certain his father would have looked favorably upon him this time. Feeling the sting of rejection once more, he looked to his half-sister and took comfort in the small smile she offered him. “Slave King, my apologies,” he said in a flat and emotionless tone. Bowing curtly, he turned heel and quickly left the Slave King’s presence.

Looking to Melody, he could see Dawson’s look of hurt and disappointment reflected in her eyes. Nodding once, he gestured towards Dawson. “See that he safely returns to his mother’s side.”

“Of course king daddy,” she said, lightly placing her hand atop his, before taking after her brother.

Once she had left his side, and the Slave King was sitting alone in the dark of the night, and sadly lowered his head. “I’m so sorry brother, if only I was as strong as you,” he dejectedly said.

*****

Lady Zephyr was flying high above the wide expanse beneath her. Though it was dark, the full moon along with her superior vision was more than enough for her to see clearly. Even after several hours of searching, she still hadn’t found him. The first place she tried looking was the field hospital tent. However, only an empty cot awaited her. Spying an empty bottle near the cot, she picked it up and smelled the remnants of the green liquid the bottle had once held. Closing her eyes, she could smell her estranged love’s and son’s scents. Placing the bottle down, she smiled when she realized that he did love his son in his own way. Exiting the tent, she took to the air and resumed her search.

Gliding on the warm thermals high above the plain below, she continued her search for her wayward son. Casting her gaze towards the Slave King’s throne, she felt a pang of sorrow pierce her heart when she saw Princess Luna sitting beside him. By the brilliance of the heavens above her, she knew that Luna hoped to entrance him with her grace, beauty, and elegance. While the Lady of Air was considered a beauty in her own right, hers paled in comparison to the Lady of Night’s. Hers was a fierce beauty, one that threatened to consume you with passion if you weren’t careful. However Luna’s was like the full moon reflected in a still pool, gentle, seductive, and carried the promise of things to come. How can I compete against her? Even Zuzu pales in comparison to her majesty, she lamented.

Releasing a mournful cry of despair that he would never love her like she so desperately desired, she closed her eyes and banked to the east away from the two as their courtship commenced. Her only consolation was that in all the centuries she had known him, he was never one to be swayed by emotion or give into passion. She was sure that once he had rebuffed her enough times, Princess Luna would seek out greener pastures in search of a new more affable paramour. Even though his rejection of her affection still caused her heart to ache, she took solace that he was just as vulnerable as herself to the natural attraction she felt for him. She only had to be patient, and he would eventually seek her of his own accord. Like the mountains reaching to the sky, he would be compelled to pursue her in vain until she finally allowed herself to be caught in his snares.

Making another pass over the grassy plain surrounding Bone’s Landing, she was shocked when she saw what the Slave King was doing. He had willingly removed his crown and cloak for her! He never did that for her. Seething with rage, she wanted to fly down and scream at him with all her fury for betraying the love she held for him to that interloper. Reigning in her territorial instincts, she released a screech of fury as she remembered his last rebuff to her…

*****

“Become my husband, love,” she said, running a talon lightly against her lover’s broad and scarred chest. Though some might consider his heavily scarred and pale flesh grotesque, she found it beautiful. Each scar told a story of how he’d overcome foes both great and small, each was a mark of his worthiness to be her mate. “Together, we will make the pantheon in its entirety, bow to our might. None can hope to stand against the combined power of the Sky and Earth.”

“What of Celestia, the Radiant and Luna, the Beautiful?” he replied, looking up from their shared bed. “You are at the mercy of the sun’s light, and I at the moon’s shadow.”

She smiled warmly at him, closed her eyes, and laid her head against his branded shoulder. His gentle reproach was one of the many reason’s she loved him so. He was always at least three steps ahead of everyfeather. It was the reason why his domain had gone from a broken city and scattered warrens scratching out a meager living in the unforgiving southern badlands, into a rich, powerful, and well organized trade empire in the space of only four centuries. His strength, cunning, and indomitable will had served him well, and made her desire him all the more.

“Combined, our power will be unassailable,” she said, climbing atop him and gazing into his green eyes that smoldered like glowing embers. Framing his face was a mane and beard of long hair, black as pitch and greying in places. A sign of his previous mortal frailty, but she thought it made him appear wise and distinguished, her cunning and great king. Grabbing his shoulders, she lowered her head against his. Pressing her beak close to his face, she whispered, “Become my mate and together we’ll create a dynasty. Come to me, love, let me give you many sons and daughters. Our children will be mighty, none shall surpass their strength.”

She looked down at him radiating love, lust, and desire with her entire being. Placing a gentle kiss on his brow, she only asked that he reciprocate her great love for him. Reaching out to him with her divinity, she beckoned for him to join her as she enveloped him with her power and essence. When he didn’t respond to her desires, she looked down at him crossly with her plumage and wings flared with unfulfilled passion. “Why do you deny me, love?” she implored, moving off him and returning to her own side of the bed. When he didn’t answer, she sighed with frustration at his obstinacy. The very essence of her being longed to become one with his, and she wouldn’t be denied.

“What have you come to teach me this year, Lady Zephyr?” he demanded, waiting impatiently for her to answer him. “I have kept my side of our little agreement. Now it’s time to honor your end of our pact.”

Rolling her eyes in annoyance at his continual insistence at keeping their arrangement purely business, she narrowed her eyes as she thought of the perfect thing to share with her reluctant consort. “Love, mingle your power with mine, and I will share this year’s knowledge with you,” she replied, enveloping his physical form with her divine power.

He looked at her curiously. “Do not think to temp me with carnal trivialities,” he warned, thinking back to centuries earlier when she had easily bent him to her will, by tempting him with the song of creation. “I’m no longer an easily swayed and ignorant child.”

“Of course not, love. There will be time enough for that after I share my knowledge with you,” she said, affectionately nibbling on his ear. She smiled with anticipation as she thought about how happy he would finally be, when she gave him this piece of herself. After today he would finally love her, and he would finally know happiness as her husband. “Come join with me, my love. Together, we’ll sing a song of great power that’s not been uttered since the first age.”

When he heard the promise of ancient knowledge, he smiled and immediately issued forth his power to meet hers. She could scarcely contain her excitement, not since the first age had she had the opportunity to sing this song with somefeather. She sighed in blissful contentment as their divinity became one. It wasn’t often she had the chance to know her dark lover so intimately. Physical pleasure was one thing, but the divine were meant to enjoy their union in a more primeval and elemental fashion. Ready to show him how much she loved and desired him, she sang the song of creation as she waited for him to join her.

There was no going back now. He was completely at her mercy. Once joined like this, neither could leave the other unless they both willed it. And until the song was finished, her only desire was to possess him. Sensing his reluctance to join her in song, she held him tight. Finally, his resistance to join her in the song of creation crumbled like sand and he acquiesced to her desire. Victoriously, she smiled when she heard and felt his rich voice join with hers. She had known that the desire and temptation would be too great for him to resist, and rejoiced that he was finally hers.

Together they sang for what seemed an eternity. She showed him how to form and weave their song properly, while basking in their shared pleasure. As each verse passed, and they neared the crescendo of their song’s penultimate end, she was rewarded with the spark of life entering inside her. Her entire being sang with joy, she had finally won his heart. At the climax of their duet, she showered him with all her love to show her mate that her heart would always be his. With the song of creation finally complete, she reluctantly stopped singing and released him from her divinity’s hold. When her lover sensed he was freed from her grasp, he released her from his and they each returned to their physical forms.

“That was a rather interesting experience,” he said, staring up at the ceiling.

“Is that all you can say?” she teased, grasping his hand with her talon. “Surely you felt joy when our creation came to be?”

“Our creation?” he asked, sitting up in the bed and giving her a hard look.

"Feel the fruit of our union,” she invited, moving his hand towards her stomach.

“Fruit of our union…” he echoed, not quite understanding the implication, but he felt a sliver of their combined divinity growing inside her.

“Yes our child!” she excitedly said, kissing his cheek. When he didn’t respond, she knew he must be overwhelmed with joy at the prospect of finally being a father. “The first of many, love.”

“Leave me…” he whispered, getting up from the bed.

“What, my love?” she asked, basking in the afterglow of their song.

“I said leave me,” he coldly replied, refusing to show his face to her.

Confused by his churlishness, she reached out her talon to his shoulder. “Tell me what’s wrong, my love?” she asked, confused by his erratic behavior.

“Don’t touch me!” he hissed, drawing away from her as if her touch was poison.

“Love, tell me what’s wrong,” she begged, afraid she had somehow unknowingly offended him. She didn’t understand his hostility towards her. An act of creation should have filled him with overwhelming joy and desire for more. Even the Unmentionable One coveted the experience.

“What right did you have?” he demanded, shaking with fury as his eyes burned with rage.

“Slave King, I love you, and wanted you to finally know happiness. I only wished to make you whole,” she said, offering her myriad of reason for singing the song of creation with him.

“Be gone from my sight, woman,” he said, rebuffing her with a cold whisper and pointing towards the broken lava dome viewable from his bedrooms balcony. “Lady Zephyr, get out and never return!”

“Please, don’t send me away!” she whimpered, afraid she’d forever earned his enmity. Looking up into his eyes, she silently begged for him to reconsider while she cried in sorrow.

Angrily, he forcibly carried her out to the balcony. Unceremoniously dropping her to the ground, he pointed once more to the broken lava dome. “What part of be gone from my sight do you not understand,” he demanded.

Dejectedly hanging her head, she looked back at her former lover once, reluctantly took flight, and released a shrill cry of sorrow before leaving the Domain of Earth behind her.

*****

Thinking back to what should have been a time of celebration, her eyes watered as she relived the hurt and sorrow she had yet to recover from. Even now, she still didn’t understand his great anger towards her. They were deities. The act of creation was their entire reason for being. Perhaps had she hidden the fact like Zuzu had, he would have reacted more favorably to the news of the creation of their son.

As she searched unsuccessfully for him, she wondered how he was handling having met his father for the first time. By the first egg, that man could be stubborn when he chose. She just hoped Dawson hadn’t placed too great a hope on being accepted by him. Casting her gaze back towards the Slave King’s throne, she was surprised when she saw Dustin, Dame Squall, and Melody having a conversation with the Slave King. Wheeling South, she hoped to catch Melody before she left, to see if she knew where her son was, and to satisfy her suspicions regarding Dustin’s true identity.

Though she couldn’t hear them speak, judging by how the Slave King and Melody were speaking with each other, she could tell there was some tension between them. Looking at the Slave King’s eyes, she could see them softening as he said something to her. Lady Zephyr’s sharp eyes caught Melody’s shoulders and posture relaxing, and knew that whatever business they were discussing had been peaceably resolved. He then turned his attention to the seapony. Dame Squall and the Slave King exchanged a few heated words. She could tell the seapony felt apprehensive about whatever they were discussing, but she too relaxed and then headed towards Lord Triton’s beach side camp.

The Slave King then turned his attention towards Dustin. She held her breath in anticipation, as he removed the shemagh covering his face. Even though his back was to her, her heart called out to him when she saw his shoulders and wings slump. She could tell by his posture, that he was upset by something the Slave King had said to him. Watching him from above as he walked away, she managed to finally catch a glimpse of his face. It was him! Her maternal instincts had been right all along. As she watched her son storm off, she wanted to swoop down and comfort him. But when she saw Melody chasing after him, she remembered what she had managed to do for him earlier that day, and decided to allow them their space. Looking angrily towards the Slave King’s throne, she decided she would have words with him.

Landing softly on the ground behind his throne, she silently stalked him as he rested in it while gazing up at the night sky. Before she could move more than a single length towards him, she heard his raspy voice. “I take it you found your son?” he asked, with a sort of weariness that she’d never heard from him before.

“Yes, I did,” she replied, not even bothering to hide the hurt and anger she was feeling. “Why must you treat him so cruelly?”

“Cruel?” he asked, in a tone that suggested offense. “How by any stretch of the imagination have I treated your son with the least amount of cruelty?”

“You toy with his heart,” she accused, pointing a talon angrily at him.

“Don’t plead the victim to me now,” he said, countering her accusation. “When both you and Lady Suzaku attempted to use trickery to get what you desired.”

“I can understand if you want nothing more to do with me, but by the first egg, he’s your son!” she shouted, wishing that somehow she could reach his stony heart. “Don’t punish him for my mistakes.”

“I have no children,” he coldly replied to her.

Hearing his stubborn refusal to listen to reason, Lady Zephyr did the only thing she could think of. Narrowing her eyes, she lunged. Argh!” she screeched at him, with both of her talons extended, wings flared, and her beak open to attack.

The Slave King, unprepared for her sneak attack, was caught unawares as she flew towards him. With little warning to defend himself, he leapt out of his throne onto the ground as she landed on it, barely missing him with her talons. Seeing that he’d managed to elude her, she looked down at him with hunter’s eyes hungrily. Twitching with excitement for the hunt, her tail moved back and forth as she licked her beak.

Looking at his evenly matched opponent, he said nothing. Narrowing his burning eyes at her, he clenched his metal hand into fist, which squealed horribly as metal rubbed against metal. Seeing her grimace in pain from the horrible noise, he smiled, taking a low guard stance readying himself for her next attack. Neither spoke, as they glared at each other. Both of the evenly matched deities waited for the other to make their move.

Impatient to continue the hunt, she tightened the muscles in her hind legs and leapt forward at him like the raging wind. Seeing her bold frontal attack, he reached into the Earth to find his footing and stood firm like the unflinching mountain. When she collided with him, her talons found purchase in his flesh as he grabbed hold of her and wrestled her to the ground. Like quicksilver, she slipped from his grasp and tried to find enough leverage to knock him off his feet. However, she found no matter how hard she knocked him he refused to be moved, easily countering each of her attacks.

Feeling frustrated at his resilience to her assault, she tapped her into her divine power as she readied to attack him once more. He released a dark chuckle as he tapped his own divine reserves in response, and motioned to her with his metal hand to come to him if she dared. Shrieking at him in rage, she leapt at him with all the fury of a raging whirlwind. Raising his clenched metal fist, he drew back his false arm and prepared to strike her with the full weight of his power. When they collided with each other, the force of their divine power reverberated, knocking them both into the spirit realm.

The spirit realm, also known as the dreamtime, limbo, the world between worlds, and numerous other names, is where the elements go to revert to their most primeval forms. Before Equestria had taken physical form, it existed only as a conglomeration of elemental forces, each vying for supremacy over the other. Eventually, harmony took root by the power of the Well of Eternity, and chaos gave way to order. Though Equestria is now separated from the spirit realm, the connection between them still exists and the elemental forces of Equestria can still travel freely between the two.

Seeing that she was no longer bound to her physical form, Lady Zephyr released a mighty screech of challenge with all the force of a tornado from her beak. Fierce and beautiful, the golden elemental circled him as she planned her next attack.

The giant of stone and iron looked down at her, and then looked at his massive stone hands. He was not a native to this place, and felt ill at ease anytime he visited it, almost as if he worried that creation considered him an invader rather than as integral part of the whole. Knowing that he was at a disadvantage here due to his disorientation, he felt a decisive first strike was of paramount importance.

Without giving her an opportunity to gain an aerial advantage over him, he leapt at her with his hands outstretched. Shrieking with surprise at his out of character behavior, she flexed her wings once as she tried taking to the air to escape him. However she was too late, before her golden form could fly away, he’d managed to grasp onto her hind leg and tail. Shrieking in protest, she tried escaping his vise like grip as his stony bulk fell on top of her.

She slipped between the stone and iron composing his form like a hot knife cutting through butter, but found she was still caught fast by her hind leg and tail. Flapping her wings in frustration, she formed a mighty vortex from her body that seemingly stretched up forever, scattering the remnants of his form inside its funnel. As the whirling vortex continued to break him to pieces, he drew up more matter from the infinite earth beneath them. As the limitless vortex consumed the endless earth, both deities glared at each other from inside the chaotic upheaval.

Time seemed to slow down as the two titans fought a battle of wills, each trying to see which of them would yield first. As they fought each other, the spirit realm groaned in complaint at being abused by their quarrel and began sapping their power in retaliation. He felt himself being cut off from the source of his power and sighed deeply as exhaustion began overtaking him. Seeing him tire, she let out a shriek of victory before she too felt herself losing steam as her vortex slowed to a standstill. Slowly his great mass rejoined the earth below, lying prone and panting with exhaustion. She looked down on his weakened body and wanted to shriek in triumph, but found that she was feeling rather lightheaded and lethargic.

Slowly her form congealed next to his, as she laid there looking into his eyes wishing they could return to simpler and happier times. But those times were past. Struggling to get up, she crawled towards him. Recovering from his fatigue, he opened his eyes and tried standing, but discovered he lacked the strength to do so. Finding himself vulnerable and weakened, he tried crawling away but found her lighter form was quickly overtaking him. When he felt her talons grab his stone and iron leg, he tried kicking her away but found her grip was like steel. Knowing he had no other alternative, he turned on his back and waited for her to crawl on top of him.

Breathing deeply, he felt her warmth encompassing him as she covered him completely. Looking up at her, he could see a mixture of anger, hurt, and desire reflected back at him. Neither of them spoke, only the pulse of their heartbeats broke the silence of the two worn and beaten deities. Patiently, he waited for her to strike him in his weakened state. Instead, she ran a golden talon against his stone cheek as he felt her hot tears wetting his iron face.

“Why do you hesitate?” he rumbled, gathering his strength. “Here I am at your mercy, and yet you do nothing.”

“I can’t,” she whispered, with a voice that sounded like a gentle breeze. “I want to, but I just can’t.”

“Strike me down, or let me go!” he demanded, making his voice rumble like the rending earth.

“No!” she shrieked, gaining strength, from the spirit realm once more.

This time he was prepared. Drawing down into his reserves, he grabbed hold of her divinity and dropped any connection he still had to a physical form and overpowered her. Caught unawares by his trap, she struggled in vain to free herself, but found she was unable to. Stopping her struggle, she smiled and became the pure essence of her element. Realizing his mistake too late, he found himself bound to her, unable to escape until she willed it.

Struggling against her embrace, he found himself once again the unwilling participant of her song. As he found himself carried away by the meter of her hymn, he found it increasingly difficult to resist the rhythm of its cadence. The pulse of the beat of her heart reverberated through his being, and he finally relented. Begrudgingly, he added his baritone to her alto as they joined in song. Singing together, the original dirge of her lament was bolstered by his voice, transitioning into a song of healing. As the chords of their song washed over them, their anger gave way to tranquility and mutual understanding. He finally felt the depths of the love she held for him, and now knew the great pain he’d caused her. And she finally understood why he felt so betrayed by her deception, and knew she needed to be patient.

Releasing each others divinity, the two estranged lovers broke their embrace and returned to their elemental forms. Looking at each other, neither of them wanted to speak. They were afraid that doing so would resume the hostilities they had previously felt. Hoping to break the ice, he tried speaking only to be silenced by a gentle kiss.

“Don’t speak,” she said, her golden eyes reflecting the sorrow she felt. “I was wrong to try forcing you to love me by deceptive means. I don’t regret it though, because I managed to keep a piece of you.”

He listened to her words, and grieved that he didn’t dare reciprocate. “I forgive you,” he said, reaching out to touch her, before reluctantly drawing his hand back. “I only wish I could give you what you desire.”

She reached out and drew him to her breast, embracing him tenderly. “When you’re ready, I’ll be waiting,” she whispered, before letting him go. “Shall we return to Equestria?”

“I think we should,” he agreed, joining her side. “There’s no telling what the rest of the pantheon must be thinking.”

No longer quarreling, the two deities, one of stone and iron, the other of sky and gale, stood by each other. When their divinity left the spirit realm, his body collapsed into a mountain. While hers formed a shroud of clouds around it, embracing its peak and ensuring that it would never be alone.

Far away from the site of their great battle, in a tiny corner of the spirit realm near the gentle sounds of a laughing brook, a grey eyed watcher smiled at their reconciliation before slithering off to parts unknown.

*****

Bixie crept silently in the high grass, silently stalking her prey. Though it was dark, she knew exactly where her mark was. She could smell his intoxicating scent from even this far, and knew he would provide her with at least a fortnight’s worth of nourishment. She wanted to buzz with excitement, but was worried about scaring him off. Sampling his emotions aroma, she detected his susceptibility to lust and cooed with excitement. Slowly, her black chitinous body began sprouting white fur as soft as silk and twice as luxurious. Her fangs thickened, while her snout shortened into a delicate muzzle. Her flat hooves, reformed themselves into paws, and her large multifaceted eyes narrowed and shrank, leaving behind two irises as blue as sapphires.

Batting her eyes once, and shaking her tail suggestively, she knew no diamond dog, especially one as hungry for the tender embrace of a fertile bitch as this one, would be able to resist her charms. Adjusting her ornate collar, she sauntered off towards him, eager to feed. Finding the diamond dog alone, she studied him intently. He was busily tending to a small fire by a large cage on wheels. She supposed that he was a lone slaver, who must have recently sold his stock on the lonely road.

She pitied those poor ponies, many of who ended up as the property of the Slave King. Most of which would work tirelessly on his many projects for a decade, before being released from servitude. What a waste, she thought. So many ponies that would be better off serving as food for her hive’s great hunger. Though it was true many of those freed from their decade long enslavement often ended up in her hive’s larder, most of those captured provided little in the way of nourishment. Years of hard labor sapped the majority of the captured ponies’ capacity for love, and most had to be released after only a few months, being completely worthless as a food source. Often times, they spent more time and love cultivating their captives by providing them with faux families and lovers then they ever got in return.

However with diamond dogs it was much different, most of them would happily rut with any willing bitch, providing ample nourishment. However, the Slave King hated her race with a passion, and mandated that they be driven out of his territory whenever possible. This made harvesting from diamond dogs doubly difficult. While they usually provided abundant nourishment, they were dangerous to harvest from. They usually roamed in groups of at least three, and their noses usually weren’t fooled by changeling magic. Finding one alone, of a willing disposition, and even having a cage on hoof was a remarkable find.

Oh my tasty morsel, I shall make you deliriously happy, she thought, salivating as she imagined all the potent love she would extract from him. And then when your love is ready to be harvested, I shall gobble you up!

Checking to make sure her current form was in heat, she gave herself one last onceover, ensuring her success and exited the grass concealing her. Once she had revealed herself, she smiled seductively at the diamond dog that was cautiously looking at her. “Might I share your fire tonight?” she asked, licking her lips and swishing her tail suggestively.

“If you wish,” he replied, adding more firewood to the blaze.

Bixie sat down beside him, feigning cold and shivering beside the warmth of the fire. “It certainly is chilly tonight, isn’t it?” she asked, trying to start up a conversation with her mark.

“Hmm…” he grunted, looking up at her briefly before returning to tending the fire. “Yes, it’s cold enough to warrant a fire at least.”

Seeing him reach for another piece of firewood, she smiled as she got up and walked past him. Bending down and exposing herself to his nose, she began picking up a few pieces of wood to add to the fire. "Let me help you,” she said, winking suggestively and ensuring that he was fully inundated with her heat’s scent.

“Be careful with the fire, you might get burned,” he warned her.

“Maybe I like playing with fire,” she teased, placing a paw on his leg. “What do you like playing with?”

“Naughty bitches that need to be taught a lesson,” he growled, pulling her roughly to him

“Oh, there’s no need to be rough,” she said, inches from his muzzle. “Maybe we can do something together by the fire to help keep us warm.”

Not needing anymore prompting, the large diamond dog grabbed her haunches and helped himself to her offered bounty. Bixie sighed with pleasure when she received the copious amounts of love he was giving her. She squealed as she felt his teeth nipping her neck. Oh yes, this one will be all mine, she thought, feeling his hot breath against her ear.

“It’z a real shamez youse won’tz be ablez to harvestz allz thiz lovez backz at ze hivez, izn’t itz?” he said with a grunt.

“Oh yes,” she sighed, with her eyes tightly closed and lost in the moment. “Wait… what!”

Opening her eyes wide in shock she looked behind her and saw that the diamond dog that had been giving her such potent love was in reality another changeling. Such occurrences weren’t unheard of, just extremely rare. Though changelings could share love in such a manner, doing so was considered a faux pas among polite changeling society. Even though it was considered taboo, some changelings enjoyed the harvesting process and often times would allow themselves to be targeted and preyed upon. Others preferred the more carnal acts many changelings used to feed, and would allow themselves to be fed on so they could pursue their vice. Apparently, this changeling was one of the later kinds.

“Get off me!” Bixie demanded, feeling steamed that she had been fooled by a fellow changeling.

“Andz ifz Iz sayz no?” he replied, placing all his weight on top of her, to prevent her escape.

“I’ll make you sorry,” she warned.

“Iz thinkz notz,” he angrily buzzed, before biting her hard with his fangs and releasing an anesthetic in her wound. “Shh sweetiez, justz enjoyz ze ridez.”

Bixie felt drowsy as the anesthetic worked its way through her pulmonary system. “No…” she whimpered, before succumbing to the effects of the poison.

After several more minutes, he finished up and dragged the stunned female changeling into the waiting cage. “Sweetz dreamz,” he said with a cruel laugh, before locking the cage door and changing back into a diamond dog.

“Why…” she said, struggling to stay awake.

“Because my client requires a live changeling, and you just happen to fit the bill,” he said with a wicked smile, while attaching himself to the cage’s harness. “Besides, I’m sure the Slave King won’t hurt you too much before killing you.

When she heard his plan, she struggled to escape her prison, but could scarcely move her limbs. The last thing she heard before drifting off to sleep was him saying, “You will make me a very wealthy changeling.”

*****

Sensing that it was nearly time, she opened up her lavender eyes. Allowing a few moments for them to adjust to the low light inside the tent, she smiled at her peaceably sleeping sister snoring lightly beside her. Slowly standing up so as not to wake her, she exited out of the tent to raise the sun and speak with the Slave King about his upcoming inauguration and her concerns regarding Shadow Knight Sombra. Trotting over towards his throne, she fully expected to find him brooding in silent contemplation over some serpentine plot. However, she was perplexed when all she found was his crown and cloak abandoned on the hard packed earth nearby.

Concerned about his whereabouts, she reached out with her magic to replay the last few minutes while he was still wearing his crown and cloak. She frowned as the fight between the Slave King and Lady Zephyr replayed before her. If left unchecked, her anger and his grim determination could threaten to spark another interdomain conflict among the Prime Elements, almost before the ink had managed to dry on the previous day’s agreement. Concerned for the safety of Equestria, she was considering calling a moot to force them to come to terms or at least agree to a pact of nonaggression. The last thing she needed now was heightened tensions, before she could enact her plan for the Slave King.

Before she could rouse her sister, she felt the veil separating the spirit realm from Equestria dissipating. Looking towards the disturbance, she was pleased to see that both the Slave King and Lady Zephyr reappear in front of his throne. She watched as he and Lady Zephyr exchanged a few words before embracing once and going their separate ways. Once he was alone, she trotted to his side and watched as he returned his crown and cloak to their proper place.

“Celestia, the Radiant, I take it you found my hospitality to your liking,” he asked, passing her to return to his stone throne.

“Yes, Slave King,” she said, bowing her head slightly. “I must admit I was concerned when I discovered your crown and cloak abandoned.”

“I had some unexpected business crop up,” he said, tilting his head towards her.

“Are you and Lady Zephyr…” she said, hoping to probe the extent of their relationship.

“No,” he said, brusquely cutting her off. “There is nothing between us. Why do you ask?”

“I’m only looking out for my sister’s well being,” she hastily replied, as she waited for his response. She generally found his responses regarding her inquiries to the other members of the pantheon telling. While many of his actions were unpredictable, his opinions regarding their fellow deities made him an open book. She didn’t know if it was due to his inexperience, relative youth, or if he didn’t care in the slightest if his feelings on the matter were known. She dreaded the day when he became like the rest, choosing to more closely guard his secrets. But until then, she would gladly glean any information he willingly offered.

“Your sister appears to be her own woman,” he said, hoping to provoke a response. “Though your concern for her seems rather ironic.”

“Why do you say that?” she asked, both curious and annoyed by his presumption.

“It’s ironic that the mistress of shadows is cursed to ignominiously suffer, forever forgotten in your great shadow,” he said with a slight smile.

“And just what’s that supposed to mean?” she said, feeling a bit annoyed with him. Of course she couldn’t discount the ring of truth his words contained. But it pained her greatly, to think Luna might believe that she had so little regard for her feelings.

“Only that the sin of omission will often lead to resentment, and resentment to bitterness,” he said, waxing philosophical. “See to securing your own interests, before aiding others.”

“I’ve found that by aiding others, I often aid myself,” she countered, refusing to allow him to cloud the issue.

“That sounds like a load of tripe and nonsense,” he said, gesturing to Bone’s Landing and his assembled army before him. “All I have achieved was done without regard for others. In the space of a few centuries, I have amassed more wealth and power then you could possibly imagine.”

“But are you happy?” she asked, giving him a pitying look, before turning to the east. “Please excuse me, Slave King. I must raise the sun now.”

When he heard her final retort, he thought on his life and pondered her inquiry, was he happy. Reflecting on her words, they cut him deep. All he was working for, his entire reason for being, was for that singular goal that drove him ever forward. While granted he had been forced to do some rather unsavory things in the past, you couldn’t make an omelet without breaking a few dozen eggs. But the end reward would be worth it, wouldn’t it? He thought of her, and wondered what she might say if she could see what he had become. Would she recoil in terror, or weep in shame. Alas, he didn’t have the answer.

“Come, watch me as I raise the sun,” she invited, with a gentle smile.

He nodded once and looked to the east. Closing her eyes, she drew her latent power and charged her horn. Rearing up, the sun willingly followed her motions. Fully extending her wings, she took to the air, eclipsing the fiery globe behind her. As the warm light of day break bathed them in its golden light, he felt the benevolence and compassion she felt towards him, and probably all living things he surmised. Her mane and tail moved freely as she hovered above him, wearing a gentle smile she slowly descended to the ground below.

“I know I’m not as flashy as my sister Luna,” she said, approaching him. “But I like to think that the rising sun has a wonder all its own.”

“Truly, you’re no less magnificent then your sister,” he replied, taken with the power and majesty she’d used to control the sun’s assent.

When she heard his compliment, she lightly blushed. “It’s been a while since any of the pantheon has complimented me,” she replied, giving him a thoughtful look.

“I think when you’re surrounded by wonder, it’s easy to forget the marvels all around you,” he said, picking up a handful of loose dirt. Staring intently at the earth in his hands, his eyes burned with power. Moments later a small ivory flower emerged from the dirt he held. As the petals opened, they spread out in the shape of her cutie mark, that of the rising sun. “I think I shall call it a Celestial Bloom.”

Offering her the flower, she levitated it and placed it in her mane. “Thank you, Slave King,” she said, greatly touched by the gift. “But why did you make it for me?”

Thinking to himself, he wasn’t quite sure why he had. Perhaps the night he spent with Lady Zephyr, combined with his approaching renewal, had somehow made him more amorous than usual. Deciding to mask the hunger he was feeling towards her, he decided to offer a weak platitude instead. “So you might never forget the wonder life offers,” he said, returning to his throne.

However watching them unseen was Princess Luna, who was grinding her hooves into the earth angrily. How dare he? she fumed, upset that he had made a flower for her sister and not her. It’s not fair. Celestia always gets all the attention, while we must forever be in her shadow.

Ah, poor little princess, the voice taunted her. Are you feeling sad that Celestia is winning his heart without any effort at all?

We command thee to be silent, she shouted, displeased she could do nothing to silence her tormentor.

Oh what’s wrong, afraid she’ll keep the Slave King all to herself? the voice said, with a hint of cruelty. Don’t worry, Luna. I’m sure she’ll happily share him with you when she’s done using him. After all you always did enjoy her cast offs.

Nay, we shall prevail against her, Luna vowed, determined that she wouldn’t be bested once again. We shall defeat our sister and all others that conspire to steal him for themselves, making him ours and ours alone.

How do you propose to do that, Luna? the voice asked, challenging her to make good on her promise.

We… we knowest not, she admitted, bowing her head in defeat.

When the voice didn’t respond, she angrily flared her nostrils. Well, she demanded, fully expecting it to offer a solution to her problem. When no answer was forthcoming, she stomped her hooves in frustration.

Her tantrum was caught short, when she remembered the small chest in the corner of the tent. Searching the tent, she soon discovered it. Like before, it seemed to call out to her, Luna, open me!

This time, ensuring she was truly alone, she grabbed hold of the chest and opened it with her magic. Looking inside, she was disappointed to find it was nothing more than a large sapphire. Using her magic to pick it up and examine it more closely, she found that it seemed to radiate both shadow and light magic.

We wonder what secrets this gem possesses, she said to herself, as she slowly rotated the gem so she could examine its every facet.

Perhaps were you to discover its secrets, you might impress the Slave King, the voice suggested to her. Discover its purpose and he will be yours.

“An excellent plan,” she muttered, gently probing the gem with her magic. When her magic probe made contact with the interior of the sapphire, she nearly dropped it in shock. She found herself looking into the underworld, where hundreds of lost souls were wandering aimlessly through the shadows and mist of the featureless landscape composing it.

“Neighcromancy!” she gasped in revulsion.

When they heard her, they reached out with their ghostly hooves and stared at her with their empty grey eyes. “Help us!” they wailed.

Immediately, she severed her connection to that ghastly place, returned the gem to the chest, closed it, and returned it back to its hiding place.

See, the voice triumphantly said, he encroaches on your domain.

Nay, tis a perverse thing he seeks, she replied, trying to rid herself of the memory of the dozens of sightless grey eyes that had stared back at her.

He seeks something in your domain, the voice said. Use that to your advantage. You possess knowledge he requires, you could easily make him yours in exchange for it.

We dost not think it wise to seek after the dead, she replied, laying her ears back with concern. No good has ever come from dabbling in the forbidden arts.

Forbidden to mortals perhaps, the voice said, but to a god, never.

We shall have no part in such diabolical wickedness, she said, rebuffing the voice’s temptations.

Her inner struggle was interrupted when she heard her sister speak. “I hope you had a restful sleep, Luna,” she said, walking towards her.

“We are unaccustomed to sleeping in such crude conditions,” she said. Spying the flower in her sister’s mane, she narrowed her eyes. “Pray tell, Celestia, where didst thou comest upon yonder blossom.”

Using her magic, Princess Celestia levitated the flower for her to see. “The Slave King made it for me,” she replied, with a slight smile. “He called it a Celestial Bloom.”

When she heard her sister mention the gift, she frowned. It was just like her, as soon as she found something she desired to try outshining her. “Why dost thou always seeketh to usurp our desires?” she demanded, pushing roughly past her sister.

“I’m sorry, Luna, I don’t understand what you mean,” she said, moving towards her sister with concern.

“Thou knowest full well what thou hast done!” she huffed, stepping out of the tent right into the Slave King.

“Is there a problem?” he asked, looking into her distraught azure eyes.

“We knowest not!” she raged, looking resentfully back towards her sister, before stepping past him. “Dost thou have one?”

“Humph,” he grunted, walking past the surly alicorn.

When she saw that he was ignoring her, she stomped her hoof down indignantly, flying off, and only leaving an indignant humph behind.

Looking to her sister, he raised his eyebrow questioningly. “Celestia, the Radiant, It appears that someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” he said to her.

“Please forgive my sister, Slave King,” she replied, “Luna’s sleep cycle is off, and full moons have always made her more emotional.”

“The time to meet with Lord Triton has come,” he said, gesturing towards the stone table outside.

“Very well Slave King,” she replied, casting her gaze towards her retreating sister.

Author's Note

Thank you gentlereader for reading chapter seven of The Book of Water: The Marriage of the Slave King, as always comments are appreciated. My apologies if you found the content on the cloppy side of things. In truth I struggled greatly with this chapter due to the content, and was concerned that it might be alienating. But after several rewrites decided that this is what the story and plot demanded.

Finally we see the root of Lady Zephyr and the Slave King's estrangement. She thought to entangle him in matrimony and in the end lost everything. But there's hope that with time, now that they've settled their differences that they might be reconciled with each other. What that means for Lady Suzaku is a story for another day. And why is the Slave king so hesitant to reciprocate, I wonder. What skeleton in his closet holds him back from her?

And poor little Bixie, once the predator now turned prey. I wonder what horrors lie in wait for her now that she's going to be framed for the attempted assassination of Sir Hurricane. Will the Slave King believe her word over Second's? And if so what will he do with her?

Naughty Luna, don;t you know it's considered rude to snoop? But what's a little neighcromancy between friends? And why so jealous Luna? Sure the Slave King made a flower especially for Celestia and not you. I'm sure the gift of looking at his horribly scared body is just as nice. Well okay maybe you should be worried.

Well that's all for this chapter. Gentlereader, I hope you have a safe and fun New Year's Eve. All the best wishes for a great new year in 2013. Until next time!

Chapter 8: The Hidden Wound of an Aching Heart

The Book of Water: The Marriage of the Slave King

A Story by TalonMach5

Chapter 8: The Hidden Wound of an Aching Heart

So harper, you want to hear a succulent story? Alright, I think I know a few tasty morsels I could share. Step inside and whet your appetite with this tale.

There once were three pony brothers traveling along a lonely road. The eldest was a unicorn, whose magical skills was unsurpassed. The second was a pegasus, whose speed and agility were unmatched. The youngest was an earth pony, honest and humble. One day, the three brothers came across a cave. Peering inside, they discovered it contained an unattended dragon’s hoard. The eldest, confident in his magical ability to protect him from the dragon’s flames, helped himself to the many rare and precious books he found inside. The second, confident in his speed and agility to evade the dragon’s fangs and claws, looted many precious gems and fine jewelry from the hoard. The youngest, whose needs were simple, took a small bag containing enough wealth to buy him a small farm and live comfortably on for rest of his life.

Before they could escape with their ill-gotten loot, the dragon returned. When it saw the would be thieves, it roared with displeasure. Little ponies, it snarled while licking its sharp teeth. Each of you have stolen from me and must pay the price. But as I’m a sporting dragon, I’ll give you a chance to escape my cave with your lives and stolen treasure, if you answer my riddle correctly. The three brothers not having many options, discussed things and agreed to play the dragon’s game. When they were ready for his riddle, the dragon asked them with a hungry gleam in its eye. What is the most precious thing here in my hoard? The eldest looking at his stolen books smiled. Why knowledge of course. The dragon laughed, shaking his head while eying the brothers hungrily. The second pulled a large chromatic diamond from his bag. This gem is flawless, and worth more than the rest of your hoard combined. The dragon snorted once, and smacked its lips in anticipation of its upcoming meal. The youngest thought of the life he would never get a chance to live, and answered. Our lives are the most precious things here in the hoard. When the dragon heard his answer, it roared in anger and gnashed its teeth in frustration at losing its dinner. Snorting with annoyance, the dragon finally relented and reluctantly let them exit its lair.

Oh, you want to know what happened to the three pony brothers in the end. After they left my cave, I ate them of course. Those three pony brothers were quite tasty as I recall. Speaking of which, you look rather appetizing…

-Three Strings, Earth Pony Harper, The Last Tale Penned by Three Strings

“Make sure everything is perfect!” the large minotauress demanded, while inspecting her reflection with a critical eye. Flexing in front of the mirror of polished brass hanging from the wall, she stared hard at it with her fierce piercing golden eyes. Striking and holding a pose that displayed as much of her impressive physique as possible, she waited as her servants appraised her statuesque beauty. Her goat, bison, and minotaur servants silently scrutinized her, each of them looking for any minute flaws they could discover on their mistress’s near perfect form.

Impatiently, she flicked her tail while waiting for their verdict. The heat of the morning sun combined with her fear that they might find some imperfection, however insignificant, made her flawless pale green skin and silken coat grow damp with perspiration. She had worked and struggled far too long to fail now, she would be quite cross if it was all for naught. Smiling to herself, she cast a sultry gaze at the mirror and seductively licked her lips. Her body was perfect, no male could possibly resist her even if they wished to. From her large brass clad horns and hooves, to her ample breasts and curvy hips. Everything about her was designed to fill her soon to be consort’s mind with overwhelming lust and desire. Looking down at her immaculately manicured hands, she smiled. They were her secret weapon, no pony mare, diamond dog bitch, griffiness, dragoness, or any of the others possessed such a tactical advantage to win his desire. Their hooves, claws, paws, and feathered wings could only grant a clumsy simulacrum of the pleasures she intended to share with him.

Licking her muzzle with anticipation, she could scarcely wait for the celebration and her ascension in the pantheon as his mate. Although she had quite a bit of power of her own as Lady of Spring, his crown would offer her much prestige, and his powerful armies would lend great strength to her own forces. But the true reason she desired him, was because notaurus had yet managed to overpower him. Neither Lord Ouroboros with his flames of vengeance, Lord Triton with his useless laws, nor Princess Celestia with her scheming tricks had managed to bind him. Not even Lady Zephyr and Lady Suzaku using all their feminine whiles had managed to ensnare him, but she was confident she would succeed where they had failed.

She was destined to succeed because she knew how his mind worked, how he thought. He only respected power and strength, two things which she had in excess. Though her domain was subservient to his, she was far stronger than he. Among the deities of the pantheon, none boasted strength greater than hers. If they ever fought, not even the Fire Tyrant could hope to escape her powerful grasp. When the time of renewal came, she would be ready. Being attuned to the Earth, they were both aspects of growth and fertility. She could see it now, she would boldly approach him once he had completed the ceremony, and request… no, demand that he wrestle her. Once he’d accepted her challenge, she would overpower him, throw him to the earth, and then allow her charms to do the rest. She imagined how it would unfold, the once mighty Lord of the Earth at her mercy, subdued and enjoying the lengthy and dexterous ministrations her strong hands would visit on his flesh.

“Lady Minoa,” her chamberlain said, rousing her from her fantasy.

“Have I achieved the pinnacle of perfection?” she asked, while lusting after her own reflection.

“Yes,” her servants chanted in unison.

“Is not my body the strongest, the most awe inspiring, and the most desirable?” she said, gazing longingly at her reflection once more.

“Indeed,” they echoed. “None surpass you in strength, power, or sensuality.”

“Shall I be victorious in breaking the Slave King?” she said, flexing in front of the mirror once more.

“The Slave King will fall before you and worship your hooves!” they shouted with a fever pitch. “The pantheon will tremble at your great strength, and all will seek the pleasure your beauty promises.”

“Excellent,” she said, reluctantly moving away from the mirror and her reflection. “Bring me his gift.”

“Bring forth his gift,” they chanted, while one of her minotaur servants fetched a large wooden and brass chest. He presented it to her with a deep bow, before rejoining her chorus of sycophants.

Opening the chest, she pulled out a large dark green bottle of wine from her special reserve. Due to the nature of the fruits and fermentation process used in its production, only three bottles were produced each year. She was planning on sharing it with him after her inevitable victory over him. Holding the bottle in her hands, she salivated, thinking about how much she would enjoy drinking it with him before making him hers. Once imbibed, this wine would consume who ever had tasted it with an uncontrollable desire for debauchery. Even if he possessed the mental fortitude to resist her curves and soft inviting flesh, this alcoholic aphrodisiac would ensure her success.

“Mistress, shall I have your chorus prepare to accompany you to the Diamond Vale?” the voice of her chamberlain asked, bringing her back to reality once more.

When she heard his question, she tapped her hoof. Though she enjoyed listening to her chorus echoing her every word, she remembered how poorly the Slave King had reacted to their chanting the few times he had visited her labyrinth. It had angered him so greatly, that she had once lost an entire chorus when he petrified them into statues. Of course he offered to restore them when he prepared to return to his own domain. But she found the statues of her former chorus, frozen in time and singing her praises rather charming, and decided to keep them that way. However, it had been rather bothersome waiting for a new chorus to be trained, and their presence might annoy him, so she decided against it.

“No, I shall attend his inauguration alone,” she replied, placing the bottle of wine back in the chest.

“She will attend alone,” the chorus sang.

Returning to gaze at the mirror once more she smiled. “You shall be mine…” she cooed.

“He will be yours!” they sang in unison.

*****

“Lord Triton, how may I serve the Lawgiver?” the seapony mare asked, bowing deeply to her liege lord and trying to hide her blushing face behind her silken mane.

The seapony stallion before her represented everything that she held dear. From his chivalrous behavior, to how he spoke, and the laws he upheld. He was the epitome of seapony culture and was the standard that all stallions wished to become. She loved him so much that if he wished it, she would rush boldly into battle with her trident, readily facing certain death against all the Slave King’s forces. But she knew he loved her so much that he would never ask her or any other to do such a thing. That is why being called to personally serve him filled her heart with great joy.

“Dame Squall, will you act as my second today?” Lord Triton asked, while enjoying his morning meal.

“Your… your second?” she replied, blinking her emerald eyes in disbelief when she heard she was being granted such an honor.

“I apologize that it’s on such short notice,” he said, dabbing away the remnants of his breakfast from his muzzle with a linen napkin. “But Sir Hurricane is in no condition to attend me during today’s negotiations.”

“My liege, forgive my presumption in asking,” she said, bowing once more. “But didn’t you, Princess Celestia, and the Slave King all come to an agreement already?”

Lord Triton looked down at the young chevaleresse mare before him and smiled. Stroking his magnificent green mustache he let out a small chuckle. “Dame Squall,” he said, gesturing towards the hill overlooking the beach where the Slave King’s stone throne could be seen. “All that’s been decided is for a secession of hostilities. We still have the matter of the city administrator to decide, plus there’s the changeling spy you intercepted, and that blighter Sombra to deal with.”

When she heard her liege mention the changeling, she narrowed her eyes into slits and angrily ground her teeth. Her wounded pride and tarnished honor had made sleeping last night a restless affair. Not until that beast was brought to justice, would she be able to look herself in the mirror again. Why hadn’t she thought to bring her trident with her? A knight’s weapon was their life, and because of her negligence, the changeling had almost killed them and slipped away to Celestia knows where.

Bowing her head, she sighed, thinking of yesterday’s failure and determined she wouldn’t fail her liege again. “It will be my honor to serve you,” she said, presenting her trident to him.

The Lawgiver nodded at her approvingly. “Truthfully,” he said, drinking some spiced wine from his cup, “the reason I want you as my second is because you faced the changeling infiltrator and spoke with the Slave King about it.”

When she heard him mention last night’s confrontation that she had had with the Lord of Earth, she blanched. Though her blood had run hot with wrath at what she had supposed was a slight against her, she still couldn’t believe he hadn’t smitten her with some terrible curse for her outburst against him. If the rumors were to be believed, the Slave King was some sort of vengeful monster. Stories were told of ponies that displeased him being turned into surprised statues, screaming shades painted onto the walls of the warren of mines running deep in the ruins of the Diamond Vale, or even a few very unlucky souls being cast into the Pit itself, keeping the Unmentionable One company until the end of time.

When he saw her unease, he placed a fin comfortingly on her shoulder. “I think he likes you,” he said, looking at her with his sea green eyes.

“Why in Equestria would he like me?” she asked, surprised by the revelation.

“Long ago,” he said, reminiscing about times long since passed, “two of my knights performed a great service for him. He’s never forgotten it. I can see why he thinks kindly of you. Your eyes hold the same righteous gleam theirs once did.”

“I’ll take your word for it my liege,” she worriedly said, concerned that she might embarrass him in front of his peers during today’s meeting.

“Don’t worry so much chevaleresse,” he said, trying to put her fears to rest. “You’ll do well daughter, anypony that can stand up unflinchingly to a member of the pantheon possesses a quality of bravery few hold.”

She desperately wanted to believe her liege, but she still felt doubt and trepidation lingering in the back of her mind. “Ye… yes, I won’t disappoint you, Lord Triton,” she said, saluting him once.

Satisfied that he’d buoyed her confidence sufficiently, he rose from his seat and moved towards the Slave King’s throne. “Come,” he said, offering her a warm smile. “Let’s be off, we wouldn’t want to keep the Slave King waiting.”

“Of course my liege,” she said, following up the hill after him.

*****

Staring into the dying embers of the fire, he found that his heart felt even more tumultuous than before. Before coming here, he’d been so sure that he would’ve made his father proud. Instead, all he had to show for his troubles was heartache. Looking to the east, he saw the dawn’s light threatening to chase away the darkness. He wished that washing away the resentment he felt would be as easy. Looking at his half-sister peacefully sleeping beside him, he wondered how she managed to cope with being so close to their father, yet so far from him.

“Couldn’t sleep, Dawson?” Melody yawned, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes with her hands.

“I tried, but just couldn’t get any,” he said, stifling a yawn.

“You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself,” she said, placing her hand gently on his shoulder. “The Slave King is somefeather who respects strength and skill. I think you’ve shown that to him in spades. I’d be surprised if he didn’t make you an offer one day to join the ‘Order of the Shadow’.”

When he heard her mention the order, his heart beat quickened. “You think he wants me to join even after he flat out told me he had no use for me?” he asked, finding her assessment of his chances of fulfilling his lifelong dream difficult to believe.

“Yes I do,” she said, giving him a gentle smile. “Dawson, we just have to be patient with him.”

“Be patient…” he mused, feeling unhappy that he had to wait once again. Patience was never one of his strong suites. Ever since he was a fledgling, he’d been impulsive and quick to action, much to his mother’s chagrin. He smiled when he remembered his mother’s exasperated look of relief the first time he decided to try flying. He’d been so impatient to test out his wings, he’d leapt off the tallest cliff in the Golden Eyrie. Recklessly leaping without even bothering to check his feathers first, he nearly plummeted to his death before his wings caught air, saving him from smashing onto the ground below.

“Come on, Dawson,” Melody said, nudging him to follow her. “We’d better find Lady Zephyr, I’m sure she’s worried about you.”

“Yes, I am,” the Lady of Air said from above them. Landing in front of them, she folded her wings and tapped her talons against the earth. With a look of gratitude, she approached the harper. “Melody, the Yellow, thank you for watching out for my son, I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to him.”

“Lady Zephyr, it was my pleasure,” she said with a small bow. Walking over to Dawson, she gave him a hug. “Besides, I could never let anything happen to him, he’s such a cutie.”

Blushing slightly, he rolled his eyes at her teasing words. Remembering the scene she’d made in front of Aria, he gave her a tired look. “Ugh Melody, you’re such a tease!” he complained, feeling embarrassed by her affection.

When she saw her son’s protests, she smiled. She could remember the Slave King protesting similarly many centuries ago. “So, Dawson, are you ready to go home, or do you have any other tournaments you want to enter without telling me about?” she icily asked, making sure he knew he was still in trouble for disobeying her.

When he heard her accusation, he sheepishly looked down at his feet and scratched the back of his neck. “I’m in trouble aren’t I?” he asked, hoping to diffuse his mother’s wrath.

When she heard her son’s question she embraced him. “My son, I’m just glad you’re alright,” she fiercely said, not ever wanting to let go of him again. When she felt him relax, she gripped his shoulders with her talons, and stared into his eyes. “What were you thinking, Dawson? You could’ve been killed, in fact you nearly were.”

“I thought I could win his approval if I showed him I was a skilled warrior,” he sighed, wishing he could escape his mother’s searching eyes.

Her hardened eyes softened as she heard her son’s heartfelt desire. Holding him close, she looked into his eyes. Thinking back to what she shared with the Slave King in the spirit realm last night, she offered him a warm smile. “My son,” she said, “one day he’ll be ready, just be patient. Until then, know that no matter what, I’ll always love you.”

Hearing his mother’s words brought him a small modicum of comfort, but he longed to hear it from his father instead. “Mother, does that mean I’m not in any trouble?” he asked, hoping she was feeling merciful.

“Oh no, you’re still in trouble, mister,” she replied, giving her son a kiss. “But we can discuss your punishment later, after we get home.”

Melody sighed contentedly as she watched them. Seeing Dawson and Lady Zephyr together, made her realize how much she missed her own mother, Lady Suzaku. It had been over a year since she had last had an opportunity to visit the Summer Palace in the Domain of Fire. She wondered whether or not she would be attending the Slave King’s inauguration later that week.

“Melody?” Lady Zephyr asked, interrupting her thoughts. “What time is the awards ceremony occurring?”

“Oh, I think not for another hour or so,” she replied, daintily tapping a finger against her beak. Securing her lute, she motioned for them to follow her. “Would either of you care to join me for breakfast?”

Lady Zephyr thought it over as she looked towards the Slave King’s throne in the distance. She was about to say no, when Dawson gave his mother a plaintive look that melted her heart. Looking at her son, she sighed and nodded her assent. “I guess it would be a waste to head north, just to fly back to Neo Vale as soon as we got home,” she said, before pointing a talon squarely at Dawson’s chest. “But I expect you to behave yourself. No getting into adventures or mischief, I mean it!”

“Oh don’t worry about him,” Melody said, flashing her a cheeky grin. “I’ll make sure Dawson’s a good boy.”

Placated by Melody’s assurances of good behavior, she gave her son one last hug before stretching out her wings. “I’ll be sending word to have the Slave King’s gift flown down to the Diamond Vale,” she said, before wheeling towards the Slave King’s hill. “I’ll see you later.”

Once they were alone, Melody poked Dawson in the ribs. “So... feeling hungry?” she asked, licking her beak in anticipation of enjoying a hearty meat filled breakfast.

Dawson nodded once as he followed after her towards the mess tent.

*****

“Excellent work, grub,” the great doomhound said to a rather scruffy looking diamond dog, while examining the contents of the cage.

“I live only to serve, Lord Second,” the diamond dog said with a slight bow.

“As long as you keep getting paid you mean,” Second replied, giving him a wary look.

“It’s written the laborer is worthy of his hire,” he replied, dropping his disguise and revealing his true form, that of a changeling. “Besidez, workingz forz youse iz much too funz.”

“Entertaining enough to perhaps work pro bono?” Second asked, examining the prisoner sleeping in the cage.

“Ize don’tz bez mixing bizness with ze pleasurez,” he greedily buzzed. “Ize stillz expectingz to bez paid.”

“Don’t worry, Bazzt Zzzt, you’ll be well compensated for your part in this,” he said, looking at the changeling with a devious smile. “Well just as long as your little subterfuge works. Otherwise, I’ll have no choice but to hand you over to the Slave King.”

When Bazzt Zzzt heard Second’s backup plan, he involuntarily shuddered. “Ize don’tz appreciatez beingz threatened,” he angrily buzzed in protest.

"Then pray to your queen that it works,” Second replied with a toothy smile, showing off his razor sharp teeth. His ears twitched as he looked towards the tent’s entrance. “Someone approaches, assume your disguise.”

“And what disguise would that be?” a voice asked from outside the tent. Moments later a large spectral hound covered in heavy plate armor entered, followed by his protégé Aria, the Red.

“Master Scourge, and his little bird,” Second venomously spat. Worried that he’d been discovered, he looked for his accomplice, but found himself alone inside the tent. “What a pleasant surprise. To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Master Scourge asked you a question, mongrel,” Aria growled, as she cracked her knuckles.

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with,” Second sneered at them.

“I know you’ve allied yourself with a changeling infiltrator,” Scourge accused, looking him in the eye.

“Poor, slow, dimwitted, Scourge,” he said, taunting his fellow doomhound. “I’m afraid you’ve reached an erroneous conclusion.”

“Watch your tongue traitor, or I’ll remove it,” Aria hissed, placing her hand on the hilt of her knife.

“Little bird, shut your beak. The adults are talking,” he said, giving her a dismissive look.

“You’re digging your grave deeper,” Scourge warned, through bared teeth. “When the Slave King learns of your treachery, a quick death is the best fate you can hope for.”

“Scourge, I think not,” he replied with a dark chuckle.

“I always knew you were a treacherous beast, but I never expected you to be touched by madness,” Scourge said, looking confusedly at his subordinate.

“That’s because once again, I’ve achieved what you’ve failed to do,” Second answered, directing them towards the cage in the back of his tent. Pointing towards the black carapace of its unconscious occupant, he grinned victoriously. “As you can plainly see, I’ve managed to capture the changeling saboteur. The Slave King will reward me handsomely for this.”

When he saw the changeling sleeping peacefully in the cage, Scourge was dumbfounded. It made no sense. All the evidence pointed towards Second having betrayed them, yet here was the changeling. Smelling the changeling captive, he detected two scents, both smelt strongly of betrayal. Turning towards Second, he narrowed his eyes in frustration that he would escape justice once again.

“I don’t know what game you’re playing at, traitor,” he snarled. “But one day you’ll trip up, and I’ll be waiting.”

“I’m sure,” Second said with a dark laugh. “Now don’t you have more important things to be doing, like haunting a crypt?”

When she heard the insult against her beloved master, Aria drew her knife with the intent to slay him. Shaking his head, Scourge directed her to put the weapon away. “Come Aria, we’re leaving” he said, casting a baleful look towards the gloating Second. “There’ll come a time for vengeance, but today is not that day.”

“Yes, listen to your master, little birdie,” Second taunted her. “Best watch out, old Scourge will not always be there to protect you.”

Before exiting the tent, Scourge looked back towards his fellow doomhound. “Second, let me offer you a bit of wisdom I learned in the Summerlands,” he said, without a hint of malice in his rumbling voice.

“And, oh great and mighty Scourge, what is that?” he asked, rolling his eyes dismissively.

“No matter how great or powerful you might be in life, everyhound eventually dies and has their souls weighed in the Summerlands,” he said, before exiting the tent with Aria. “Just something I thought you might like to think about.”

Once they’d left him, Second felt his racing heart slow. That had been a close one. Had Scourge managed to discover Bazzt Zzzt, he would’ve been unable to escape the Slave King’s judgment for his treachery, and his master’s wrath for his failure.

“Second, you need to learn to relax,” Bazzt Zzzt said from behind him.

“You idiot, you nearly ruined everything!” he snarled at the changeling.

“Oh please,” Bazzt Zzzt said, shifting into an unassuming chest, before changing back into his diamond dog disguise. “This is hardly my first mission.”

“It will be your last, if you ever endanger me again,” he said with a voice as cold as death.

“Then, master, I shall ensure that I’m far away from you should that ever happen,” he replied with a devilish grin.

“Get out of my sight!” Second growled, enraged that he couldn’t kill the changeling yet for his insolence, “and tell Sombra to come to my tent.”

“As you wish, Master Second. As always, I remain your humble yet well compensated servant,” the changeling said, before exiting the tent.

Second looked at the peacefully sleeping changeling lying inside the cage, he imagined how the Slave King might torture the creature before killing it, and smiled. He hated everything about these filthy creatures, from their shiny black carapaces and the holes in their spindly legs, to their multifaceted eyes and gossamer wings. He only tolerated Bazzt Zzzt’s presence because he was a useful tool, nothing more. Once his plan was complete and his position secure, he would enjoy slowly killing that uppity changeling.

Looking at its curvy feminine form, he found himself salivating from heightened arousal. Growling in disgust at his moment of weakness for even entertaining the idea of using the prisoner in that way, he roughly shook the cage with his mighty paws. The sounds of the poor changeling waking and squeaking in terror as it body smashed against the cage, was music to his ears.

“Bug, I’m glad that you’re awake now,” he said, shaking the cage once more for good measure.

Disoriented from the anesthetic poison she had been administered last night, Bixie’s body ached everywhere. Confused as to why she was being treated so poorly, she looked up at her captor with a mixture of fear and defiance on her face. “Let me go!” she demanded, struggling to stand up on her unsure limbs. She still felt weak and lethargic from the effects of the poison, and was unsure what her cruel looking diamond dog jailor wanted with her.

Second ran one of his razor sharp claws against the flesh inside one of the holes that pocked her foreleg, nicking the delicate skin, and making her squeal with pain. “Speak out of turn again, bug, and what I do next will make that feel like a tickle,” he said, relishing the distress and fear reflected in her eyes.

“Wha… what do you want with me…” she weakly asked, slightly trembling and feeling terrified of what his answer might be.

The moment she spoke, she immediately regretted it. She felt him grab her ear with his paw, crushing it as hard as he could. Bixie screamed in agony, when she felt her cheek become wet as blood ran freely down the side of her head. She gasped in pain when she felt his heavy paw smash against her hind leg. She thought she felt something snap as she fell down against the iron floor of her prison. When she attempted standing, she found it hurt too much to move and laid helpless on the floor. Silently crying in pain, she desperately tried escaping her tormentor’s reach, but found the cage too small to offer any means of retreat.

When he saw the changeling lying prone and trembling in fear, Second knew she was broken of her initial defiance and ready for interrogation. Though Bazzt Zzzt’s plan was a good one, it still relied on their changeling ‘saboteur’ not offering a contradicting story when the Slave King got a hold of her. Once Sombra arrived, they would begin her indoctrination, ensuring she’d offer a proper admission of guilt when pressed.

“I was told you wanted to see me, Master Second,” Sombra said, as he entered the tent.

Second cast a burning eye towards his subordinate, displeased that he couldn’t continue her torments. “Sombra, we have a small problem,” he said, gesturing towards the beaten and sobbing changeling trembling in her cage. “It seems that our guest is convinced that she’s innocent of her crimes.”

“Give her to me, and I’ll beat a confession out of her broken body,” Sombra growled, making Bixie’s heart race with terror as she thought of the tortures that he might visit upon her.

“Sombra, no, no, no,” Second said, waving his claw. “The prisoner must be well enough to freely admit her guilt. I was hoping that you might convince her that it would be foolish to do otherwise.”

Sombra’s burning red eyes looked down at Bixie, giving her a malevolent leer. “By the time I’m finished with her,” he said, slowly approaching her cage, “I’ll get her to admit to being Lord Triton’s illegitimate bastard love foal if you want.”

“No, I think getting her to admit her guilt in interfering with yesterday’s contest will be enough,” Second replied, approving of Sombra’s zeal for the task.

“What is your name?” Sombra demanded, squeezing her lame leg with his magic when she failed to speak.

“Bix… Bixie,” she gasped in agony. “Please stop, oh Celestia it hurts so much.”

“Prisoner, you have no name! Why are you here?” he barked, squeezing her leg a bit harder.

“I don’t know! Please, it hurts so much!” she cried out.

“Wrong answer!” he shouted, slapping her across the muzzle with his arcanum shod hoof. The force of the impact left a dark purple welt on her cheek, making her scream in pain.

“You are a changeling spy and saboteur, intent on breaking the fragile peace between the Slave King and Lord Triton,” he accused, pulling her muzzle close to his with his magic’s telekinetic grip. “You were apprehended trying to elude capture.”

When she heard the accusation’s she shook her head, she was just a changeling harvester not a saboteur. “I… I’m no spy,” she weakly said, trying to protest her innocence.

“Prisoner, shut your lying mouth!” he snarled, squeezing her leg so hard that she nearly blacked out from the pain. “Now once again, prisoner, why are you here?”

“I’m no spy, I’m argh!” she squealed, when Sombra twisted her leg nearly to the point of breaking. “I’m… I’m a spy and saboteur.”

Pleased with the progress they were making, Sombra released his grip on her throbbing leg. “See, telling the truth wasn’t so hard now was it?” he whispered into her ear, stroking her back as she sobbed in despair. “It will be much easier for you if you just accept things and take the just punishment for your crimes.”

“You promise?” she asked, desperate from a reprieve from this torture.

“Yes, of course,” he said, stroking her head once more. “So tell me why you were fixing the contests. Were you trying to win some bets?”

“Please, I just want to go home,” Bixie said, looking up at him pleadingly.

“You are home,” he growled, pressing her muzzle roughly against the iron bars of her cage. “Now tell me why you were fixing the contests.”

“I’m not sure,” she said, struggling in vain against his magic’s grasp.

“Liar!” he roared, slamming her face against the floor of the cell. “You’re a changeling spy and you deserve to die for your crimes against the Slave King!”

She gasped for air as his magic constricted her airflow, if she was still able to she would’ve screamed as she felt his magic crushing her delicate wings.

“Now answer me correctly, or I swear I’ll make you regret it,” he darkly said, leering at her maliciously. “Spy, why did you try fixing the contests?”

“I… I was being greedy, and tried winning some bets,” she said, with a hoarse voice in between coughs as she gasped for air.

“And what do lying changeling spies deserve?” he asked, sending a bolt of magical energy into her, making her spasm in pain. “I ask again, what do worthless changeling spies like you deserve?”

“I don’t know!” she screamed, not sure what her tormentor wanted to hear. “Tell me and I’ll say it!”

Sombra sent several more bolts of magical energy coursing up and down her body, as he laughed at her suffering. “They deserve to die!” he cried out in fury, hitting her with the spittle escaping from his mouth. “You deserve to die as well, don’t you?”

“Yes, yes, I deserve to die!” she sobbed, as the energy mercilessly wracked her body. “Please make it stop! For the love of Celestia, just make it stop!”

“I believe admitting your guilt and accepting responsibility for your crimes has earned you a small reprieve from your penance,” he said, releasing his magic’s hold on her. “Once you’ve caught your breath, we’ll continue the interrogation.”

Bixie said nothing, instead curled up into a ball, crying as her body shook from the torments she’d just experienced.

Pleased by how pliant the prisoner was proving, Sombra was confident she would say whatever they needed by the time the Slave King received his prisoner. “Master Second, the prisoner will be ready in time,” he said with a small bow.

“Good,” Scourge said, exiting the tent. “I’ll expect her properly broken in, by the time we bring her before the Slave King.”

Once his master had left, Sombra turned back to Bixie and offered her a wicked smile. “Now, my dear, let’s continue our conversation,” he said, her terror reflected in his wild eyes as his horn crackled with power. “Prisoner, why are you here…”

*****

She was feeling miserable. All she wanted was to be left alone to wallow in self-pity, after what happened this morning she was sure he would want nothing more to do with her. Why did things always have to be so complicated? Why couldn’t the object of her desire see she was far better than then the others, and ignore their clumsy attempts to woo him? She had been so sure last night that she might have finally found at last some small measure of happiness. But no, her sister had to go and ruin everything, leaving her out in the cold once again.

Thinking back to what she had seen earlier in the gem, she wondered what the steward of the underworld would need with such an artifact. She involuntarily shivered as she remembered all those empty searching eyes, and their mournful wails of despair. Such misfortune was not unknown to her, for she reigned over all the shadows. When the living lived lives of disharmony, it wasn’t uncommon for them to wander in vain, forever searching for the Summerlands. It was the lot of the wicked to be denied rest, until their souls had finally made peace with themselves regarding their wicked deeds.

She considered that perhaps he used the gem to view the torments of his former masters. From what she knew about him from her previous dealings with him, and from the interdomain gossip she’d heard about him, she knew he had a long memory. Remembering her first encounter with him in the Well of Eternity, she wondered if he still harbored a grudge against her for her part in his banishment. Even now, she could feel the chains barring him entry to her domain. She wondered why he’d allowed himself to be at her mercy last night. Had she chosen, she could have easily wounded him. Remembering how he’d complimented her beauty and shared himself with her, she felt her heart race. Oh he did desire her, she just knew it! Perhaps he was simply shy and pined after her beauty from a far, or perhaps wayfarers expected the females to initiate courtship. After all, Lady Zephyr and Lady Suzaku did approach him first.

We shalt make him ours, she decided, clopping her hooves together in delight. We shall strike while the iron is hot, court him, and make his heart ours and ours alone. And then with him at our side, we will never be lonely or unappreciated ever again.

At the approach of a pair of flapping wings, her ears tilted towards the one encroaching upon her solitude. Though the scheme she’d hatched to ensnare the Slave King’s affections had left her in winsome spirits, she was still feeling a bit woebegone that her sister had been given such lovely gift, while she had received nothing. As such, she was in no mood to deal with who she was sure was a messenger from her sister, imploring her to return. Without bothering to see who it was, she lifted her muzzle daintily in the air and purposefully ignored whoever it was that had been sent to retrieve her.

“Princess Luna?” a feminine voice asked. “The others are waiting for you to return with me.”

“Leave us! We hast no desire to be seen by anypony right now,” she said, indignantly shaking her flowing mane, showing her obvious displeasure at being so rudely disturbed by a mere messenger.

“But the Slave King…” the messenger replied, before being interrupted by Princess Luna.

“The Slave King personally requested our presence?” she asked, opening an eye and looking at the messenger for the first time. To her surprise she saw it was none other than a rather annoyed looking Harmony, the Black.

“I didn’t actually say…” she said, as Luna ignored her.

We knew he cared for us! she thought, delighted that he’d personally sent Harmony to beg for her to return to his side. How shoulds’t we respondeth to his entreaty? We wish not to appear desperate… Hmm, perhaps we shoulds’t acteth aloof, feigning disinterest at his petition. Nay, mayhaps he shalt interpret such as a grave insult. Then instead of receiving his affection, we shalt receive naught but his animosity.

When she saw Princess Luna pace back and forth and murmuring to herself, Harmony looked up at the sun rising in the sky and narrowed her eyes impatiently at the alicorn. Lord Triton had insisted that the wayward goddess be present before finalizing the day’s negotiations, much to the Slave King’s annoyance. Privately, he’d stressed to her how much he desired at least a full day in his palace before the renewal of Earth ceremony, and all these delays were pushing his time table back.

Hoping to encourage her to return to meeting with her, she tried appealing to her sense of duty. “Princess Luna,” she plaintively said, “Lord Triton is refusing to allow negotiations to proceed without your presence. Unless you return…”

When Harmony mentioned The Lawgiver’s demands, she rolled her eyes. He simply wishes to embarrass us before the Slave King, by making us return like a penitent foal, she darkly thought. He knows our desire and hopes to sabotage us. Well he had his chance, we shan’t give the blowhard the satisfaction!

This is so infuriating! she growled, grinding her teeth in exasperation at the uncooperative princess. Lord Triton and Princess Celestia are surely giving the Slave King a difficult time over this, and once again I’m going to have to deal with the fallout. Perhaps an appeal to her sister’s needs might do the trick.

“Princess Luna,” Harmony said as sweetly as she could, while silently wishing she would come down with a bad case of the feather flu. “Princess Celestia said she needs your help with these negotiations. Your Twilight Knights are going to be stationed in Bone’s Landing, and she can’t finalize their use without your approval. Furthermore…”

Celestia… she growled, making her horn and eyes glow with shadow magic when she remembered how her sister had been muscling in on her stallion. Why couldn’t she leave well enough alone? That mare had such gall. Not only did she push her towards the Slave King to tease her tender heart, when it seemed as if she might finally find a small piece of happiness, she attempted to steal him for herself. Well never again, she swore. We shall fight thee from the highest peak of Darkpaw’s Spine to the depths of the Western Sea if needs be. We shall pursue thee to the edge of the Pit itself if thou refuseth to yield to us. None else shall have him, we so swear it!

Harmony felt the feathers on the back of her neck standing on end, when she felt the powerful shadow magic emanating from Luna. Feeling her anger and resentment, she worried for her safety. Though Lord Triton had made her feel apprehensive yesterday, even his simmering anger hadn’t generated such fear. She knew that unless she could convince her to return of her own accord, Princess Luna might do something foolish. Leaving her to once again to pick up the pieces if she decided to be unruly. Had she been dealing with anyfeather else, she would’ve slapped her, and made her see reason. Though as tempting as that might be, she decided her old standby, flat out lying, would probably do the trick.

“Well since you’ve decided not to return with me, I’m sure Lady Zephyr will be more than happy to have your spot at the table…” she said, hoping that her white lie would cajole her to return with her to the meeting.

“Lady Zephyr, thou sayest?” Princess Luna asked, with worry in her teal eyes and wearing a slight frown.

“Oh yes,” she replied, stretching out her wings and arms. “She and the Slave King were getting on rather famously earlier. In fact, I even saw him laughing with her when I left.”

Oh no. No, no, no, no. No! She can’t have him, I won’t allow it! she thought, her mind roiling and seething in anger at the revelation. She had her chance, and lost him. He’s mine now!

All too easy, Harmony thought, pleased with herself when she saw Luna’s inner turmoil. Hoping to spur her to action, she smiled and offered her a solution. “The meeting hasn’t resumed yet, if we hurry back you can have your spot by his side once again.”

“Ah yes, we thank thee for this magister,” she said, unfurling her wings and flying back towards the Slave King’s hill as fast as her wings allowed.

When she saw that she was on her way back, she pulled out a small mirror as she checked for feathers that were out of place. When she saw the worry lines worn into her face she sighed, “Mother was right, I am going to end up with wrinkles,” she said, before flying after Luna.

*****

“Gentlestallions,” she said, looking into both Lord Triton and the Slave King’s eyes. “I’m glad we could all come to an accord regarding Bone’s Landing,”

“Princess Celestia, we still haven’t seen to the most pressing matter yet,” Lord Triton said, casting a baleful glare towards their host. “Unless an acceptable resolution occurs, there will be no agreement between us, and most certainly no peace.”

She could scarcely believe her ears, the Lawgiver was going to breach their agreement. In all her many centuries of having known the Lord of Water, not once had he ever threatened to break his word. Sighing once, she turned towards the Slave King and gave him a plaintive look. The means to keeping the peace was in his hooves, all he had to do was offer Lord Triton a small concession and there would be no conflict.

“Princess Celestia, the Radiant, I sense you have something you wish to say. Speak your mind, we aren’t omniscient after all,” the Slave King said, giving her a contemptuous look, daring her to speak her mind without guile.

When she heard his words provoking her, she bit her lower lip worriedly. Had they been alone, she would’ve gladly taken the bait and given him an earful. But with Lord Triton, Lady Zephyr, and even her own sister looking at her expectantly, she had to hold her tongue and practice proper etiquette as the head of the Pantheon. “Gentlestallions,” she said, giving each of them a stern look. “What I want is irrelevant, I am merely an intermediary in this quarrel. But consider this, the price for breaking the peace will have consequences.”

“The Earth shall subsist as always,” the Slave King declared, pointing a finger towards Lord Triton. “And all the relentless waves of the Western Sea pounding endlessly on my borders won’t change that.”

“We shall see what my allies in the Pantheon have to say about your defiance,” Lord Triton countered. “Even Lord Ouroboros will join with me.”

“You can do whatever you want, Lawgiver,” the Slave King said, tapping his finger against the stone table. “I can guarantee your coalition will be without most of the great powers.”

“My cause is just. You have wronged me and my people, the rest will support my petition against you,” he said, looking expectantly towards Lady Zephyr and Princess Luna.

“Swallow your pride, lest you end up like Lord Ouroboros,” the Slave King said. “Lady Zephyr, Lady Suzaku, and even Lady Minoa will never join you against me. Should I have no other recourse, I will give them what they desire, and in turn gain their protection. Even Luna, the Beautiful will join with me if I make her the same offer.”

When the goddesses heard what the Slave King said, each of them blushed crimson. Flanked by both Lady Zephyr and Princess Luna, he gave each of them a slight smile before turning his attention back to Lord Triton.

Though there were no official rules regarding interdomain courtship, it was agreed long ago after a long and bloody period of interdomain civil war, that nopony would use their consorts as political tools. With the Slave King breaking this taboo either knowingly or unknowingly, she didn’t care. But the fact that he would so callously use her sister in this way without any consideration for her feelings, made any guilt Princess Celestia felt about her plans for him, evaporate into the aether.

“Tread carefully Slave King,” she said, looking at the spirit chains attached to his wrists. “The heart of a goddess is not to be trifled with, especially not one that has your fate in her hooves.”

When her sister had finished speaking, Princess Luna gave her chain a good shake, forcing his hand against her silken coat. “Slave King, we beseech thee,” she warmly said, nibbling his shoulder affectionately. “Dost not make promises thou intendest not to keep.”

Lady Zephyr saw Celestia’s mirthful smile and decided to play along .Though her heart would leap at the chance to have him once more, the Slave King had crossed the line and needed to be reminded of his place. “Yes my love,” she cooed into his ear, running a talon along his chest and rubbing her head against him affectionately. “Say the word and we’ll ensure that Lord Triton never harms you.”

When he felt their affections as they caressed him, his body went rigid as his eyes darted back and forth wildly as he looked for a means of escape. Seeing his rival’s predicament, Lord Triton laughed heartily. Though he fully intended to see justice done here, seeing the Slave King like this only reminded him of his inexperience and he felt a sliver of brotherly compassion for him.

“Princess Celestia,” he said with a grin, “I think the Slave King has learned his lesson, don’t you?”

“I don’t know Lord Triton,” she said, walking towards the Slave King and nibbling on his ear. “Offering a mare whatever she wants, is a rather tempting offer.”

“Well old bean, it looks like you’ve caught yourself at least five centuries of romantic entanglements,” he said, stroking his mustache thoughtfully.

Had he still had a heart, it would’ve been racing uncontrollably as he felt himself inundated with their love, desire, and affection. Sinking back into his stone throne he thought of her, “Little Bleu…” he groaned.

When Celestia heard the name, her heart was pricked with compassion for him, and she decided he had learned his lesson. “Mares, I think we’ve overwhelmed him,” she said, signaling to the others that he’d had enough for now. “Let’s let the Slave King consider our response to his generous offer.”

Lady Zephyr pecked his cheek once and withdrew to a respectful distance, allowing him some breathing room. Luna saw her sister returning back to her seat, and drew her muzzle close to his ear. “If thou ever decideth thou desireth more, thou needeth only to ask,” she whispered, before leaving his side.

Before his ascension he had often been afraid, it once stalked him like an unrelenting shadow. But after his change, fear had left him. Much like his missing heart, fear no longer had any place to find purchase inside him. Until now that is. As their affections threatened to worm their way into his heart, he felt her slipping away from him, and he worried that he would never be reunited with her again. The emptiness ached inside him and he longed for more, but he didn’t dare yield to it. Clutching the armrests of his stone throne until his knuckles turned white, he looked warily at the goddesses. “Perhaps Lord Triton, we’ve put the cart before the horse,” he said, his green eyes burning like weak embers.

“What do you mean, Slave King?” he asked, hopeful that a peaceful resolution regarding Shadow Knight Sombra could be reached.

“I mean Sombra hasn’t made his request regarding the contest yet,” he said, looking towards Second who was waiting near his tent. “Perhaps, he might be convinced not to ask for the garrison commander’s position over Bone’s Landing.”

Lord Triton was shocked. In all the years he knew the Slave King, never before had he volunteered such a conciliatory offer of his own free will. Though he still felt steamed regarding the whole situation, that he would willingly humble himself in this way made the Lawgiver’s earlier desire to mentor him resurface. Perhaps this is a sign of his desire to reform, he thought. He had never desired to make the human his enemy. Unfortunately, due to circumstances beyond his grasp, things had spiraled out of control, and now they had a rather antagonistic relationship. This time Slave King, he thought, things will be different.

“If you manage to do it, I shall consider this matter closed,” he said, offering his rival a smile.

“I’ll do what I can,” the Slave King said, leaving his throne and walking towards his tent.

Celestia felt relief wash over her, as she walked him leave the table. Things had threatened to irrecoverably crumble before her eyes, and without her having to do anything they had reached past their differences. Though she wondered how far the Slave King would have been willing to go with his threat to proposition a majority of the Pantheon. Reflecting back to the hollow empty look he wore while they pressed against him, she wondered what had caused him such discomfort. To her knowledge, he had been with both deities and mortals alike. What about their affection did he find so terrifying?

Looking towards Lord Triton she warmly smiled. “Thank you for your willingness to compromise,” she said.

“It was his willingness to humble himself,” he said, stroking his mustache. “I’ll admit my pride gets the better of me sometimes.”

“Only sometimes?” she asked, with a teasing laugh.

“Point taken, Celestia,” he said, giving her a thoughtful look. “I see in him, somepony that just needs a little gentle correction to guide him to the right path.”

“I agree, Triton,” she said, deciding to share with him her plan for the Slave King. Reaching out with her divinity, she shared her idea with him.

“Hmm… Your plan is not without risk,” he said, mulling over the idea she’d shared with him.

“True,” she agreed. “But think of the rewards if it succeeds. Besides, he suffers greatly, this will allow him to heal, and finally offer the stability that the Pantheon has lacked since Darkpaw’s passing.”

“But wouldn’t you offer more stability?” he asked, confused why she was considering her more emotionally turbulent sister as the final choice.

“I’m prepared to be the fallback if my sister is unable to do what needs to be done,” she said, looking at her sister and Lady Zephyr thoughtfully.

“What of the others?” he asked, eying Lady Zephyr cautiously. “Zephyr, Minoa, and Suzaku especially, will fight you tooth and nail for the chance.”

“The others are not really a concern,” Celestia said, sipping some wine from her cup. “As for the ladies of Air, Summer, and Spring, should they succeed, they should make good matches for him.”

“It seems your scheme is nearly the equal of the Winding One,” he said, offering her the compliment with a smile. “How long have you been planning this?”

“Since my annulment with him,” she said, thinking over the many years she’d been planning this.

“Still holding a grudge over what happened during the last moot?” he asked, drinking his ale.

“Not really,” she replied. “It’s more gratitude than anything else, by offering my ponies so much, he’s ensured a great peace for Equestria. We owe it to him to at least try healing him. Can I count on your aid?”

“Well Celestia, I wish you luck,” he said. “But a word of warning, I’ve found that the Slave King has a way of twisting things to his advantage. But yes, I will aid you in your scheme. I look forward to seeing his reaction, when he learns what you have planned for him.”

Saying nothing, she offered him a smile and drained her cup.

*****

“Slave King, are you alright?” Second asked, looking concerned at his former master’s weary and drained appearance as he followed him inside the tent.

“I…” he said, before looking confusedly at the large cage containing a trembling changeling in the middle of his tent. “What is this?”

“My subordinates were able to track down the changeling saboteur,” he said, giving the silently crying prisoner an evil look.

“Have you now?” the Slave King replied, examining the pitiable creature inside the cage. “Are you certain this is the changeling that thought to disrupt the contest?”

“I am,” Second said, with a grin before turning towards Bixie. “Prisoner, admit your guilt to the Slave King and accept your punishment.”

“I… I was being greedy, and tried fixing the contest to win some bets,” she sobbed, praying that he would end her torment and kill her quickly. “I’m a worthless changeling spy and deserve to die. Please make it quick!”

Something about the changeling’s confession didn’t sit right with him, but he wasn’t quite sure what. Changelings using their abilities for monetary gain wasn’t unheard of, but from what he was told by Melody, that changeling was an expert fighter. He had difficulty believing it would so easily admit to the crimes charged against it. Ever since their queen had attempted harvesting him for love using the form of his beloved Bleu, he’d sworn eternal enmity against their entire race. However seeing the pitiable creature begging for death, filled him with a modicum of compassion.

“You’ve done me a great service, Second,” he said, scratching the doomhound behind the ears. “Perhaps you could be persuaded to perform another for me?”

“For you, my king, anything,” he said, enjoying the attention and praise that had long been denied him.

“Shadow Knight Sombra is entitled to any boon he seeks,” he said, looking out at the city from his tent. “I need you to ensure he doesn’t seek to become the garrison commander of Bone’s Landing.”

When he heard the Slave King’s request, he wanted to howl in victory. He would easily be able to offer him what he wanted, under the guise of looking out for the Domain’s best interests. Truly, he was fated to succeed beyond his dark master’s wildest dreams. “Slave King,” he said, offering a smile that showed off his many sharp teeth, “I have already seen to that.”

“Second, how exactly did you manage that?” he asked his servant, as he looked at the cage thoughtfully.

“Sombra confessed that he desired the prestige of the position when I pressed him,” he explained, giving the Slave King a malevolent look. “I managed to convince him of the error of his desires.”

“How did you manage to do that?” he asked, looking at Second’s massive jaws and claws. “You know interfering with someone else’s reward is a capital offense.”

“I know,” Second said, bowing his head low. “But the well-being and prosperity of the Domain of Earth is above the welfare of any one hound.”

“So what’s he going to ask me for in place of becoming garrison commander,” he asked, wondering how much this was going to cost him.

“Sombra’s reticence to relinquish his claim, required that he suffer for his defiance,” he said, licking his maw. “He agreed to ask for stewardship over the crystal ponies up north, as his penance.”

“The crystal ponies?” the Slave King murmured, scarcely believing that Sombra had agreed to such a post.

“Yes, it’s my hope that after a decade or two in the freezing cold of Winter,” he said, “he’ll learn to respect his betters. Besides, Celestia and Luna can’t possibly complain that a pony is being sent to administer over other ponies, can they.”

“You have my thanks, Second,” the Slave King said. “Now leave me so I can administer the prisoner’s punishment. And remind Sombra, should he abuse the crystal ponies in any way, the full wrath of the Earth will be visited on his head.”

“Of course, my king,” Second said with a slight bow, before exiting the tent. Thoughts of his rewards coursed through his mind. Soon, my master, you shall be free, and I shall rule over the Domain of Earth!

Once they were alone, the Slave King approached the still crying changeling. “He’s nothing but a liar, master,” a feminine voice said from the corner of his tent.

“Gunhilde, what makes you say that?” he asked the young doe, who revealed herself from her hiding spot behind his wardrobe.

“By how much deference he was showing you,” she said, resuming her cleaning duties.

“Am I not the master of the diamond dog race?” he asked her, sitting down on one of his chairs.

“Slave King, you might be the master of the diamond dog race, and over all the Domain of Earth, but he serves another,” she said, picking up a few pieces of clothing to be laundered later.

“You speak truthfully, Gunhilde,” he said, removing his cloak and crown. “What you are about to see, you must reveal to no one.”

“Of course, master,” she said, giving him a respectful bow.

Reaching into the cage, he picked up the weeping changeling and cradled her gently in his arms. “Bring me the Draught of Renewal,” he said, while stroking Bixie’s mane and velveteen carapace.

Curious about what he was going to do with the changeling, she carried a draught filled bottle and a cup to him. Taking the draught, he filled the cup halfway and placed a piece of cloth in it to soak up the sparkling healing draught. Slowly, he squeezed the lustrous green fluid from the cloth into her mouth. After a few minutes, she stopped shaking as her wounds rapidly healed and started purring as he ran his fingers through her mane.

Bixie felt wonderful, but didn’t understand why. She was certain the Slave King was going to kill her because she was a worthless changeling, but instead he’d fed her a delicious beverage and was stroking her gently. Though her body was fully healed, her energy reserves were low. Desperately needing subsistence in the form of love, she reached out to the closest thing she could find.

When she reached what she supposed was his heart, she was disappointed to find it barren and cold. Desperately hungry for anything, she searched deeper and found a tiny spark hidden deep in the inky blackness. To her surprise, it was a love far more pure then any she had ever tasted. Knowing she had no choice, she reached for the memories and began changing her appearance.

Though he thought he was prepared, when he saw her take her form, it took all the strength he had to restrain himself from slaying her. Looking down at the blue unicorn foal he held in his arms, his chest ached and eyes burned. Her light blue mane curled around his fingers, and he was brought back to a place he thought he’d left behind long ago. He shook as he remembered, and willed himself to continue. The foal looked up into his eyes and smiled. Reaching up, she wrapped her hooves around his neck and whispered into his ear.

What she told him nearly brought him to his knees in grief, as his soul cried out to rejoin her. “I love you, daddy,” she whispered.

“I… I love you too, Little Bleu,” he said through clenched teeth, steeling himself from the torment that wracked his body, mind, and soul. “I love you so much, my Little Bleu.”

“Daddy,” she whispered plaintively.

“Enough!” he cried out, overwhelmed with grief and anger. “Change back now. Change back, or I’ll end you!”

The Little Bleu doppelganger froze, terror etched on her face, and quickly reverted back to her changeling self. “I’m sorry,” she said, “I was so starved.”

“If you ever assume that form again, I’ll kill you,” he warned, the grief still echoing in his voice. “But now, you’ll tell me how you got mixed up in all this.”

“I already told you,” she whimpered, remembering the torments that Sombra and Second had visited on her.

“Don’t lie to me, tell me the truth,” he commanded, placing his cloak and crown back on.

“My name is Bixie, and I’m a harvester for my hive…” she said, recounting the events of the past day and crying as she remembered what they had done to her.

“So, little Bixie,” the Slave King said, “I wonder what I should do with you?”

“Please, don’t let them get their hooves on me again!” she begged, weeping at his feet. “I’ll do anything, serve you anyway you want!”

“I have no love to feed you though,” he said, weighing his options.

“I can offer you any carnal desire you wish,” she said, rapidly changing into females of the various races. When she saw his dark scowl, she returned to her changeling form. “Platonic love would work just as well I suppose.”

When Gunhilde saw Bixie’s dilemma, she remembered her despair at being forced into servitude and felt compassion for her predicament. “Slave King, I’m willing to offer what I can,” she said, before growing alarmed by Bixie’s hungry eyes. “I meant, I’ll be happy to give her enough platonic love to get by.”

Bixie’s eyes looked up at the Slave King hopefully as he considered her fate. “Very well my little Bixie, swear fealty to me and I shall grant you my protection,” he said.

“I swear to serve you faithfully, forevermore,” she said, kissing his feet.

Placing his finger on her horn, he released a portion of his divinity into her. “Then, changeling, rise and serve me,” he said. “You shall no longer be called Bixie. You shall be my changer of ways, and walker of shadows. You shall be called, Chrysalis, changing and twisting to trap all those that seek to harm me.”

When she heard his words, she gasped as fire filled her veins and her body shifted and twisted into a much larger form. After a minute, the fire died down. Looking into a nearby mirror, she saw the long legs and larger carapace of a changeling queen rather then the drone she once was.

“Chrysalis, you will obey Gunhilde in all things,” he instructed her. Pointing to the mark on her flank, he released a bit of his power making her wince in pain. “Serve me well and you will never feel the mark’s bite ever again. Displease me, and I’ll make you wish you’d died today.”

“Of… of course, my master,” she said with devotion in her eyes. Changing into a female wayfarer she smiled at him. “Might I show you my gratitude?”

“That won’t be necessary, Chrysalis,” he said, shaking his head with displeasure at her attempt to seduce him. “Ensure you’re not discovered, and you may enjoy the willing males of the army if you desire more than Gunhilde is willing to give you.”

“Oh thank you,” she called after him, as he left the tent. Changing into a diamond dog bitch, she smiled at her reindeer keeper. “Come on, Gunhilde, let’s get some entertainment.”

“Not until this mess is cleaned up,” she retorted, gesturing towards the scattered clothing and blankets strewn about the tent.

“Yes, Gunhilde,” she meekly said, helping her straighten up the tent.

*****

He slowly approached the table, what he’d experienced back at his tent had left its lingering effects on him. Truthfully, he desired to return to that deserted mine shaft and weep for his loss, but he forced himself forward. Returning to his stone throne, he looked at Lord Triton and Princess Celestia. “It is done,” he said, his voice empty and hollow. Slumping into his throne, he remembered what he’d done and wished he was alone so he could grieve.

Lord Triton approached him and grasped his hand with his fin. “Thank you,” he said. “Perhaps one day we can look back on this and laugh.”

When the Slave King didn’t answer, he looked at Princess Celestia with concern.

“Slave King,” she said. Approaching him, she saw the same haunted look of a lost child he wore all those years ago in the mine when he contemplated ending his life. “Remember, you’re no longer alone.”

“I’ll be fine, Celestia,” he murmured, rising from his seat. “Lord Triton and Celestia, the Radiant, I leave the city in your hands until after my renewal ceremony. I must attend to an urgent matter in my Domain. I look forward to entertaining you at my five hundredth inauguration.”

“That hardly seems proper,” Lord Triton said, confused by his behavior. “I could easily reconquer the city in your absence.”

“Then I’ll simply have to retake it,” he replied without much thought. Shuffling away from the hill, he shook once as he held back his lament as Scourge followed after him. “Scourge, see to things. If there are any unforeseen issues, send word to Arch Duke Fifi le Yipyap, he’ll alert me.”

“Of course, my King,” he said, placing his head against his lord’s hand. “Don’t worry, between myself, Aria, Melody, and Harmony we’ll ensure things here are taken care of.”

“Scourge, Gunhilde is to be trusted,” he sighed, as he fought to hold his composure.

“I understand,” he told his friend, “I pray for your success.”

“I’ll see you in a few days my friend,” the Slave King said, before entering an earthen ley line and disappearing into the shadows.

Though he didn’t pretend to know his king’s grief, he pulled back his head and released an unearthly howl, as he mourned for his friend.

*****

It was dark and warm in the depths of the Earth, a comforting type of warmth. It made him think of his long dead mother as he wept alone in the Grotto of Memories. He was waiting for Gunhilde to bring him something he’d left behind in his haste, and was trying his hardest to stop the torrent of tears. He didn’t understand why he was weeping so. It had been nearly a century, since tears had last escaped him. Normally, he would banish this hurt back to the black pit from whence it came. But today the emptiness would serve him well.

“Master?” he heard her say from the far side of the chamber.

“Place the chest on the ground and leave the way you came,” he instructed her, choking back a sob.

“Are you alright?” she asked with concern. Though she didn’t know him that long, she found his behavior a little disconcerting.

“Yes… just go,” he said, almost pleading with her, so he could be alone.

“Very well, master,” she said, as curiosity ate away at her as she climbed the long and winding stairwell back to the ruined palace and ley line that would return her to the camp. She was about to leave when she heard an unearthly howl of despair, echoing from below. Concerned for the Slave King, she trotted back down the stairs and cautiously poked her head out to see if he was okay.

What she saw inside that room was forever etched into her memory. The Slave King had used the crystal gem inside the chest to open up a portal into the underworld. Her heart raced when she heard the cries of thousands of lost souls wailing in unison. Looking at her master, she saw he was covered in green glowing sigils that flowed along his body like water as he manipulated the portal with his hands. What looked like the skeletal remains of hundreds, furiously grasped and clawed at him as he sang a haunting melody that made her shake and quiver in fear.

Watching him stand in front of the portal, she dared not move or make a sound, afraid that she might interrupt the ritual in some way. Listening to his song, she heard another voice join in with his. Unlike his singing, she found the new voice filled her with hope and comfort. She listened as his song changed pitch to match the other, and found herself nearly moved to tears. Though he sang in a tongue she didn’t understand, she lost herself in its rhythm and she longed to join in its melody. Slowly, the light of the portal faded from black, bathing the room with its gentle golden light. As the singing grew louder, the hellish wailing faded away to nothing, and all she could hear was the heavenly voice singing a duet with his.

Looking into the portal, she saw the World Tree, Yggdrasil, and silently wept at its beauty. Though it would mean her death, had the portal been in front of her, she would have gladly entered so she could taste the succulent fruits hanging from its boughs. She watched in awe, as a golden spirit exited the portal while he sang and held it in his hands. Letting the spirit go, he began shaping something from the dirt at his feet. As the clay form took shape, she gasped when she realized it looked exactly like the unicorn foal the changeling had become earlier. Slowly the golden spirit entered the clay body, and the Slave King gently picked it up. Cradling it in his arms, he rocked it back and forth and gently kissed its forehead.

“Little Bleu, I love you so much,” he whispered, to the slowly breathing foal in his arms. “Please stay with me this time, I miss you so much.”

“I love you too, daddy,” the foal weakly said. “I’ll be waiting for you beneath the shade of a green tree. Then you, Uncle Snowe, and I can swim together in the Western Sea under the sun and moon.”

“Please stay with me,” he begged, as the foal went still.

Moments later a golden spirit exited the lifeless body, reentering the portal before it closed, and left Gunhilde and the Slave King alone in the darkness. Only the sounds of his lamentation broke the silence as she silently crept back up the stairs. When she felt safe enough to run, she moved up the winding stairs as fast as her hooves allowed. Before she had gotten halfway up the stairs, she felt the earth tremble and quake as a terrifying howl of despair cut through the air leaving her scrambling to escape before she was discovered. Faster, and faster, she trotted up the winding stair, desperate to escape before the howling caught her.

She saw the exit above her, and the dim light coming from it that promised salvation and pushed herself as hard as could. The howling chased after her like a ravenous wolf, as she silently prayed she would make it to the safety of the palace. She felt the hairs on her neck rising, as she felt the hot breath of whatever terrible creature the Slave King had released on her neck. Her legs burned with exhaustion, but with safety within sight she pushed herself to go a bit faster. Knowing it was now or never, she pushed with all her might against the stone steps and leapt through the open portal.

Leaping through the air, she landed with a hard thud against the cracked stone floor of the Slave King’s ruined palace. Desperately trying to catch her breath, she felt her racing heart pounding in her chest. Looking towards the portal she escaped, she expected to see the Slave King glaring down at her in anger. But to her surprise, all she saw was the remains of a broken and cracked mural. Knowing she was lucky to still be alive, she accessed the nearest ley line and headed back towards the camp and her duty.

*****

Somewhere far away, beneath a bright golden sun and pale silvery moon, is a green tree sitting on a gentle rolling hill surrounded by golden meadows. It stretches to the heavens further than the eye can see, and from its branches grows the most exquisite golden fruit you could ever imagine. A path runs past the tree, and from time to time passersby enjoy both its fruit and shade. From beneath its green leaves, a voice as lovely as its owner can be heard. Those who stop to rest in the shade, often ask if they might share the spot with her. But her answer is always the same, “I’m sorry, I’m saving this spot for somepony very important to me.”

Author's Note

Thank you gentlereader for reading chapter eight of The Book of Water: The Marriage of the Slave King, as always comments are appreciated. My apologies for taking so long to release this chapter, but I ran into some issues I had trouble with (namely trying to figure out to write Lady Minoa and minotaur culture in general. Also the torture scene between Bixie, Second, and Sombra. I was worried some of you might have found it uncomfortable to read.) With the first act of the story nearly complete, Chapter nine and ten should come much more quickly. I anticipate two weeks to write each of those chapters.

Finally, we see the root of the Slave King's emotional issues, and why he's decided to dabble in neighcromancy. It appears every year he has tried without success to resurrect Little Bleu and failed. We can only guess what she thinks about this whole business. Would she want him to let he go and move on, or continue with his never ending quest to restore her to life?

And as for the former Bixie turned Chrysalis, I wonder if her Torture at Sombra's hooves was the origin of her enmity of the pony races. Only time and future chapters can tell the tale.

And what exactly is Celestia's little plan for the Slave King? What ever it is, it sounds rather ominous don't you think? It all come to a head next chapter, as everything is revealed.

Once again thank you for reading gentlereader, additionally you might also be interested in a new side series I'm writing entitled Equestrian Tales Told by Tavernlight, that I've written for the World-Building Alliance monthly contests featuring stories told by The Great and Powerful Trixie as she tries to redeem herself. Unfortunately they are prejudiced against human in Equestria stories, so none of the stories will features any of the Slave King, but will have general creation myths and adventures set in the Slave King Saga universe. The next chapter will feature Sir Stouthorn and Seafoam on one of their greatest adventures.

Once again gentlereader, thank you for all your support and comments. You make writing worthwhile, until next time!

P.S. Finally featured again. Thanks to everyone who read, favorited, commented etc.

Chapter 9: The King, the Arch Duke, and the Fashionista

The Book of Water: The Marriage of the Slave King

A Story by TalonMach5

Chapter 9: The King, the Arch Duke, and the Fashionista

Seven lights had gathered in Equestria, their names will never be forgot.

The first was a unicorn of unmeasured power, last apprentice of the great Starswirl.

Clever regent of the city of Londwhinium, his name was Clover.

The second was a pup whose home was taken, his soul demanded by the beast.

Last son of the cruel Gem Biters, his name was Shanks

The third was an errant knight of the Lawgiver, a minotaur of great strength.

Humbling the dreaded Fire Tyrant, his name was Stouthorn.

The fourth was a seapony of pure heart, inseparable companion to the third.

Never succumbing to Vendetta’s temptation, his name was Seafoam.

The fifth was a griffin full of rage and anger, he flew on rainbow hued wings.

Flying faster than even Lady Zephyr, his name was Shaw.

The sixth was a beautiful unicorn scoundrel, she took whatever she desired.

Stealing love from the fiery Suzaku, her name was Showboat.

The last was a greedy little dragon, he possessed a hunger he could never exhaust.

Honored friend of the great Slave King, his name was Slick.

These seven lights of Equestria, turned away the Slave King’s wrath.

Bringing peace to a divided Pantheon, even in death their memory shall not pass.

-Grandmaster Philharmonic, seapony harper, The Ballad of the Seven Lights

Pacing back and forth, he impatiently stared at the large clock on the far wall that was slowly ticking away. Unhappy with being made to wait, he dug his claws into the scarred stone floor beneath his feet. This place had once been a lively hive of activity. But even now, nearly half a millennium later, it was still desolate and deserted. Waiting for the one who still held his fate in his paws, he glanced once more at the clock with his tired green eyes, and sighed.

This clock was a rather unique invention of his master. Unlike most of the other mechanisms found in Equestria, this one was completely devoid of using any magic in its operation. He wasn’t quite sure how it worked, but when he inquired his master about the secret behind its movements, he’d been told it used a series of intricate gears and weights to keep the correct time. The clock had been designed to not only keep track of the time, but it also tracked the position of the sun, passing of the seasons, and even the phases of the moon. Even more incredible, even after nearly two centuries of continual operation, the clock still kept perfect time.

Time… Now there was something he never thought he’d have an excess of. As the years passed him by, he felt as if he was frozen in the past, forever trapped and unable to join the present. Feeling his flanks itch, he could tell his master was approaching. Looking down at the brand that marred his otherwise immaculate white fur and forever marked him as his master’s property, he sighed and waited for him to enter. Walking towards an open window, he gazed out at the city below while thoughtfully stroking his curled whiskers.

Time had not been kind to this place. Ever since his master’s ascension and the end of the world, the city felt as if it was locked in stasis forever frozen in the moment of its demise. This ruin, once recognized as the greatest city in Equestria, was now only a shadow of its former self. Though officially open to the public, most avoided coming here if they could help it. Almost as if they were afraid of disturbing the ghosts of the past. With the exception of the palace, the majority of the city was abandoned. Even now, he rarely came here anymore. His responsibilities in the Neo Vale kept him rather busy. And if not for the preparations for the Renewal of Earth ceremony, he wouldn’t have bothered coming either.

Hearing the door open behind him, he abandoned the vista of the ruined city and curtly bowed. “Master…” he said through clenched teeth, not even bothering to hide his annoyance at having been made to wait.

His master looked down at him with a slightly bemused expression at his impudence, before taking a seat on one of the larger stone chairs. Looking up, he saw his master’s eyes burning with a green balefire beneath his iron crown. They flickered as their owner contemplated what his punishment should be. Moments later, he received his answer as he felt his brand heating up. Biting his tongue, he held back his whimpers as he felt biting pain shooting through his body before it thankfully faded away.

“Arch Duke Fifi le Yipyap,” his master’s gravelly voice said, “a reminder, lest you forget who is the master here.”

“My apologies, Slave King,” he said, bowing low to his master, hoping to avoid receiving any additional reminders.

“Are the preparations complete?” he asked the arch duke, while adjusting his cloak.

“As well as can be made, given the condition of the old city,” he sarcastically said, gesturing towards the ruined city that lay beyond the window.

His master gave him a dark look, before flicking his eyes towards the brands adorning his flanks. Steeling himself for another dose of pain, he was surprised when he felt nothing. Looking apprehensively at his master, he saw that he was standing out on a nearby balcony and looking out at the ruined buildings surrounding the palace.

“Arch duke, will I be embarrassed tonight?” he pointedly asked, while looking thoughtfully out at the dead city.

When he heard the question, he didn’t know quite what to say. Back when he still served Lord Darkpaw, the city had been well maintained as a matter of pride. But now this place was a wreck, not fit for habitation let alone entertaining guests. It would be a different story if the inauguration was being held in the Neo Vale. But here, there was little that could be done, short of razing the ruins and rebuilding it to make it presentable.

His question, ‘Will I be embarrassed tonight?’ was an odd one. Not once, in nearly five centuries had he ever seemed to be concerned about what the rest of the Pantheon thought. But now, with less than twelve hours before his inauguration commenced, he was voicing his concerns.

“Slave King, is there something I should know about?” he asked, curious where this new found concern for the rest of the Pantheon was coming from.

“No, I just wanted to know if I made a mistake in accepting the Pantheon’s request to attend this year’s inauguration,” he said, running his metal hand along the cracked mural that adorned the wall.

“Slave King,” he said, “if you’re embarrassed at the deterioration of the city, it’s not too late to move things to the Neo Vale instead.”

The Slave King considered the arch duke’s offer momentarily, before shaking his head. “No,” he said. “The inauguration will proceed as planned. Now tell me how the preparations are progressing.”

“I’ve had the palace prepared to receive the Pantheon, and their mortal entourages,” he said, glossing over the logistics. “Though there’s been a slight kerfuffle with the pony that Princess Celestia sent to assist us with our preparations. Her name’s Ringing Bells, she’s a rather pushy unicorn mare.”

“Celestia, the Radiant sent down a pony?” the Slave King asked.

“Well about twenty actually,” the arch duke explained. “They’ve been busy all week building something out in the old gardens, and won’t let anyhound see what they’ve been up to.”

“That’s rather peculiar,” he mused, wondering why she would send them without mentioning it to him back at Bone’s Landing.

“Nohound has any idea what they’re up to,” Yipyap explained. “The most I could get out of Ringing Bells is that it’s a surprise for your inauguration. Should I demand she come explain herself to you?”

“Hmm…” he mused, mulling it over in his mind. While he didn’t really care what anyone did in the old city, the past twenty-four hours had been rather taxing to him. Something distracting him from his grief, would be a welcome relief. “Yes, I think I would like to hear what this pony has been up to.”

“Very well, Slave King,” he said with a bow. “I shall fetch the pony for you.”

While he waited for the arch duke’s return, he busied himself with reading the status report of his palace’s preparations. He was impressed, in only a month’s time they had managed to make a majority of the palace’s first floor ready to receive guests. And while things like the collapsed roofs and cracked walls were beyond repair, they had managed to remove all the remaining debris, and had cleaned it from top to bottom. Looking at the schedule, he noticed there were several banquets planned, with a large party planned for the third day surrounded by several question marks in red. Seeing Ringing Bells name underlined, only gave him more unanswered questions.

The sound of Arch Duke Fifi le Yipyap’s paws, followed closely by hoofsteps made him place the itinerary down as he looked up at them. Standing by the arch duke’s side, was a flirty unicorn mare wearing her blue mane up in a bun. Her purple eyes looked at him from behind a pair of spectacles, appraising him as if he were a piece of art. He found it unsettling and didn’t like it. Locking eyes with her, his eyes ran along her ivory coat, until he spied her cutie mark, that of a pair of interlocked rings in front of two ringing bells.

“Slave King, I have brought you Ringing Bells as requested,” the arch duke said, giving the mare an annoyed look.

“Your majesty,” she said with a slight lilt in her voice, as she respectfully bowed to him.

“Pony, there’s no need to bow to me,” he said, motioning her to come closer. “I’m not your master.”

“Of course, your majesty,” she said, walking towards him. “And might I say it’s been a real thrill working here in your palace this week. Oh, that’s not to say it’s been free of challenges.”

“And to what purpose has Celestia, the Radiant sent you to my domain?” he asked her, hoping to glean more knowledge from her.

“Well Princess Celestia asked that we not say anything,” she explained, giving him a warm smile. “It’s supposed to be a surprise.”

“Does it have something to do with the party scheduled for the third day?” he asked her, hoping to discover the true purpose behind her visit.

“Ah, yes it does your majesty,” she replied with a slight titter, while looking over a scroll she held aloft with her magic. “I see that you have some free time in your schedule before your guests arrive later today, might you spare me a few hours?”

“Whatever for?” he asked her, curious what she could possibly want with him.

“The princess asked me to make you something spectacular to wear for your inauguration,” she said, approaching him with a measuring tape around her neck. “Speaking of which, are you married to that pelt, or do you have a set of finery already available for formal occasions?”

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” he asked, slightly offended that this pony thought to criticize his lack of fashion. Rising to his full height, he clenched his metal hand into a fist, daring her to continue her critique.

“Oh nothing your majesty, it certainly makes you appear fierce and intimidating,” she said, pulling out the measuring tape and eying Darkpaw’s pelt critically. “I’d be ever so grateful, if you’d allow me to make you something to wear. By the way have you ever considered wearing silk?”

When he saw his master’s consternation, Arch Duke Fifi le Yipyap chuckled inwardly at his lord’s predicament. The Slave King was somehound that didn’t do well when pressured by females, by either mortal or deity alike. And while he might normally glower intimidatingly at any mortal foolish enough to annoy him, Ringing Bells was sent by Celestia, and he wouldn’t risk offending the head of the Pantheon over something so petty. Hoping to curry some favor, he decided to rescue his master from the pushy unicorn’s demands.

“Madam Ringing Bells,” he told her. “The Slave King has to see to his returning army today.”

“Oh really?” she said, laying her ears back in disappointment and giving both of them wide pleading eyes.

“Yes,” he said, giving the Slave King a knowing smile. “The Slave King’s schedule is rather full today.”

“Perhaps I might convince you to give me just a tiny bit of your time your highness,” she pleaded to the Slave King. “Your shoulders and back look like they’ve been carrying the entire weight of your domain for ages, I’d be happy to volunteer the services of the princess’s private masseuse as I measure you for your clothing.”

The Slave King considered her tempting offer. While diamond dog paws were more dexterous then the flat hooves of ponies, their claws left much to be desired and often made any type of massage more trouble than it was worth. “Perhaps I could spare a little time for you today,” he said, giving her a wary look. “But I can’t guarantee that I’ll agree to wear the clothing you’ll make.”

“Oh thank you, thank you, thank you!” she exclaimed, overjoyed that she would get an opportunity to make him a set of clothing for this auspicious occasion. “I’m sure once you’ve seen what I have in mind, that you’ll be absolutely delighted!”

“Arch Duke Fifi le Yipyap,” he said, “Provide Ringing Bells with a set of my clothing so she might acquaint herself with my form.

“Of course Slave King,” he said, bowing curtly before leaving his master to the unicorn’s most assuredly fashionable machinations.

“So your majesty, let’s get a look at you beneath your cloak,” she said, holding the measuring tape at the ready.

Reluctantly, he removed his cloak and stood stock still, while she flittered the measuring tape around him and took his measurements. While working, she was humming happily to herself. While he couldn’t quite recognize the tune, it had an airy, joyous quality to it, like something one might listen to during a celebration. Within fifteen minutes, she had finished taking his measurements, and was now looking up at him thoughtfully.

“Yes?” he asked her, curious with what she wanted now.

“Your beard and mane,” she said, using her magic to lightly examine their length and texture.

“What about them?” he hesitantly replied, worried she wanted to do something drastic.

“Tell me, have you ever considered getting them trimmed?” she asked, with a hopeful look in her eye.

“Ugh…” he groaned, looking to the door in the hopes that Yipyap would rescue him from this mare and her fashion. When he didn’t appear, he knew this was going to be a rather long day.

*****

She was riding the land wurm in silence. Though she had once again taken the prize for her skill in archery, she didn’t feel much like celebrating. The Slave King hadn’t even bothered attending the awards ceremony this time. Though she’d been told by Scourge that he’d needed to return to the Grotto of Memories, it didn’t make the fact that he’d missed giving her, her award any less bitter. Looking over her shoulder at Melody, who was chatting glibly away without a care in the world with a few of the Slave King’s advisers, she wondered how she managed to keep doing it. Her sister continued to cheerfully serve him, even though he steadfastly refused to return the love and affection she held for him.

“Aria, you seem to be rather quiet,” Harmony said, approaching her from behind.

She didn’t answer, instead, leaning back into her seat she watched in silence as the dim magical lamps lining the tunnel walls whizzed past her head.

“What boon are you planning to redeem with your prize?” she asked her sister, trying to pry a response from her tightbeaked sibling.

Reaching into the leather pouch attached to her belt, she pulled out a large golden coin that glowed with the same green ethereal light as the Slave King’s burning eyes. Flipping the coin over in her hands, she saw their father’s oft spoken motto: ‘The strong rule. The weak serve. The Earth is generous,’ on its back. Turning it over, she saw his stern face on the reverse. His visages burning eyes seemed to stare back at her, boring into her soul. Unable to bear looking at them any longer, she looked away. Her father’s eyes offered her no comfort, but only rejection.

Closing her eyes, she thought back to that fateful day, when she’d finally met him for the first time. She’d been a bit afraid of course, but remembered Scourge’s words of encouragement, and took heart in the belief that he’d finally claim her as his daughter. Expectantly, she’d approached his throne, offered him a slight curtsey, and looked up at him with hope reflected in her yellow eyes. She’d counted the number of fingers on his left hand, and looked down at her own tiny hands. Five, she’d always had five fingers, just like him.

Looking down at the child standing before him, the Slave King shifted uncomfortably in his throne. Almost as if he’d been wrestling with some unseen foe. Releasing a heavy sigh, he’d narrowed his eyes at her and thrummed his fingers rhythmically against his hard stone throne. “Why have you come here?” he’d demanded of her, making the entire palace rumble with his displeasure.

She’d felt a bit frightened by his question, and her small wings extended in fear. Looking down at her right hand, she counted her fingers once more. Even though she’d felt frightened, she took courage and looked back at him. “My mother once told me that my father has hands like mine,” she’d said, raising up her right hand for him to inspect.

The Slave King lifted up his left hand in response, and had looked down at the hand she held out. Gingerly, she’d approached him with her outstretched hand, until her tiny hand was resting against his open palm. She’d felt his hand gently closing around hers, as she felt his beating pulse. “Are you my father?” she’d asked him in a small whisper, already knowing they both knew the answer.

Once she’d asked him her question, she saw his eyes darting back and forth like a caged beast’s. She’d felt his pulse quicken, while his hand slightly shook, as if some great battle waged inside him. Slowly, he’d removed his hand from hers and looked away. “I have no children, no daughter. Not anymore. Return to your mother,” he’d told her, refusing to look at her anymore.

With tears in her eyes, she’d walked away from him. Giving him a solitary forlorn look of heartbreak, she’d ran crying from his throne room. Racing through the labyrinth of rubble filled passages of the palace until she collapsed to the ground in exhaustion, she’d brought her knees to her chest and began crying in earnest. She’d looked down at her hands and counted her fingers once more. Five, just like his. Feeling lost and utterly alone, she’d wished her mother was there to hold her, singing a gentle lullaby, and promising her that everything would be all right.

“Little pup…” said somefeather, whose voice was as fierce as the rending of the Earth, yet possessed all the peace found in the solitude of the desert. “Why do you weep?”

“I’m all alone and have nofeather to hold me,” she’d said, through her choking sobs. Looking up, she saw Scourge looking down at her with a hint of sorrow in his translucent eyes.

“Aria, as long as I’m here, you’ll never be alone,” he’d promised, laying down beside her and placing his head in her lap.

“Thank you, Scourge,” she’d said, wiping her eyes and embracing him tightly.

“You may stay here if you wish little pup,” he’d told her, looking up at her with his ethereal blue eyes.

“You mean it?” she’d asked him. “But what about my father, he hates me.”

“The Slave King has offered to take you in if you wish it,” he’d said, getting up from his haunches.

“With you?” she’d asked, wiping her eyes against her sleeves.

“Yes, little pup, if that’s your desire, you may stay with me,” he’d told her.

“Thank you, Scourge…” she’d said, embracing the doomhound once more.

Opening her eyes, she looked down at the coin and scowled. Clenching it tightly in her fist, she raised her arm to throw it away. Before she could open her hand, and discard the hated coin into depths of the earth to be forever lost. She felt a hand clasping hers, stopping her from her intended task. “Melody, why do you care what I do with my boon?” she darkly said, feeling the resentment she felt for their father threatening to escape the dark place she normally kept it bound.

Saying nothing, Melody tightly embraced her elder sister, refusing to let her lose herself to the darkness she struggled against. Aria disliked public displays of affection, and was about to push her sister away. But looking down, she saw the hand resting on top of hers, and counted the fingers. Counting five, the dam that guarded her sorrow burst, and she broke down into tears.

Consoling her weeping sister, Melody wrapped her wings around her, and softly sang the lullaby their mother used to put them to sleep when they were children.

Little child of mine, the sun has gone to the deep…

Rest a rest, safely in my arms…

Lay down your weary head, and gently go to sleep…

Little child of mine, close your sleepy eyes…

Dream a dream, of happier times…

Slip into the veil of night, and frolic with the stars above…

Little child of mine, the sunshine of my soul…

Sleep a sleep, and the night will quickly pass…

Gently slumber beneath the moon, but know that I’ll always love you…

Aria tilted her head up at her younger sister and offered her a weak smile of gratitude, before wiping her eyes against the sleeves of her blouse. “Melody, I have five fingers,” she said, looking down thoughtfully at her calloused hand.

“What a coincidence, so do I!” Melody replied, giving her sister a teasing smile and wiggling her fingers in front of her face.

“Do you think he’ll ever love us?” she wistfully asked, releasing the sigh of child who longed for her parent’s love.

“Hopefully one day, he’ll finally be able to…” she replied, echoing her sister’s longing with her own. Guiding her sister’s hand towards the empty leather pouch, she offered her an imploring smile. “Aria, will you wait with me until then?”

Aria felt the weight of the token bearing their father’s likeness clutched in her hand, she wanted to toss it aside, abandoning it like he’d done with her. But when she looked at her sister, she reluctantly nodded her assent, before slipping it back inside her pouch.

Melody gave her sister another hug, and sat down beside her. Gently plucking the strings of her lute, she played a gentle tune as the land wurm carried them through the dark tunnels of the Slave King’s highway.

“Do you think he’s alright?” Aria asked, turning towards her sister.

Melody didn’t answer her immediately, instead choosing to continue plucking away at the strings of her instrument. The faint light from the lamps lining the tunnel walls provided them little illumination, leaving their faces in shadow. “I don’t know,” she said, pausing mid-chord to answer her. Aria’s question, much like her interrupted song, left a sour note in the air. Eager to move onto more pleasant thoughts, she resumed strumming her lute and turned to her sister. “So what did you think of Dawson?”

“He’s a resourceful warrior, both he and the seapony mare managed to deftly avoid all my attacks,” she said, thinking back to last night’s fight. Of course she hadn’t really been trying to harm them, but wanted to know what sort of feather he truly was.

“Is that all you think of him?” Melody teased, giving her sister a playful shove with her lute.

“I’m nearly a decade older than him,” she protested, giving her sister a disapproving look. “Besides, he’s our brother.”

“I’m not saying anything,” Harmony replied, mid-chord. “But unless some wayfarers pop out of the aether anytime soon, the pickings in the Enclave are rather slim. Besides, don’t you think his plumage is quite alluring?”

Aria rolled her eyes at her sister’s antics. Half the time she didn’t know if she was being serious or not. Deciding to humor her sister’s need to gossip, she gave her a playful grin. “I rather think his talons are quite interesting,” she said, looking down at her hands. “They looked quite strong.”

“Oh they are,” Melody sighed, plucking a few notes slowly. “But you better watch out, he dreams of leading ‘The Order of the Shadow’ one day.”

“Oh he does, does he?” she said, narrowing her eyes at the news of her new found rival. It was no secret she was being groomed to replace Master Scourge when the time came. This was a fact she was quite proud of, and she’d be damned if she let some young kid from the north steal that away from her.

Seeing her sister’s displeasure at the news, Melody stopped playing momentarily and placed a hand on her shoulder. “I don’t think you have much to worry about,” she said, hoping to assuage her sister’s foul mood. “He’s not even a member of the Slave King’s army.”

“It’s only a matter of time,” Aria murmured, thinking back to the contest and how well Dawson had performed. “Besides, he’s his son. Why wouldn’t he want him to lead the order?”

“Well for one, he's still a green kid, even if he’s eager to prove himself,” Melody reminded her. “Besides, Master Scourge would never allow some unknown to lead over his favorite disciple.”

Being reminded of how much Scourge cared for her, brought a smile to her face. “Perhaps worrying about that is a bit silly,” she said, feeling reassured that her position was still secure. “Master Scourge isn’t retiring anytime soon.”

“Neo Vale approaching!” the booming voice of their land wurm echoed through the tunnel, interrupting their conversation.

“Well, Melody, I guess I’ll see you during the inauguration tonight,” Aria said, gathering her things in preparations of disembarking the land wurm.

“It was good, being able to talk to you like this,” she replied, giving her another hug for the road.

Aria returned her sister’s loving embrace and warmly smiled. “Yes, I’m glad we had this chance to speak,” she said, grateful she had helped her through her anger. “Thank you.”

“Don’t be a stranger!” Melody said with a wink, slinging her lute across her back. “Hopefully tonight we can all spend some time with mother.”

“I look forward to it,” she replied, as the land wurm exited the tunnel into the city of Neo Vale.

Flexing her wings, Aria gave her sister a wave farewell, before taking flight. Soaring above the crowded streets below her, she flew between the large buildings that made up the central district of the large city. Though construction had been in place nearly three centuries, construction had been slow due to the Slave King’s unusual demands for its construction. Unlike the mainly stone and coral structures that made up the other two great Equestrian cities of Marelantis and Londwhinium, the Neo Vale was being constructed completely of metal and crystals. Specifically arcanum, the rarest material in existence. Though she’d lived here for more than half her life, she still found the great city breathtaking each time she returned home.

Unlike the dead ruins of the Diamond Vale, the Neo Vale was a bustling hive of activity. The buildings lining the wide stone streets were all built at right angles, while thousands of the various Equestrian races went about their business, along the city’s wide streets and avenues. Unceasing construction in the city was the order of the day, though the required arcanum meant that a majority of the buildings were still being built decades, and sometimes even centuries since their inception. She couldn’t fathom why the Slave King decided to build the city with such a rare material, especially when he could command and shape stone as if it were clay. Looking down to gain her bearings, she saw the slave market and banked left to meet up with her master.

Landing lightly on her feet, she walked between the mostly empty holding pens of the slave processing center on the way to her destination. Even though by her actions as a member of the order’s auxiliary, she had pressed hundreds into bondage for the Slave King, she still found the entire practice distasteful. Thinking back to the numerous scars and brands she’d seen on her father’s body, she couldn’t comprehend what slavery must have been like before his many reforms. Though it no longer meant a life sentence of back breaking labor, cruel treatment, and guaranteed to end in a shallow grave in the city’s refuse pile; it was still no picnic, and many slaves often visited the temples of harmony in the city, in hopes that their prayers for freedom might be answered.

Spying the minotaur taskmaster who ran this place, she waved him over. “Taskmaster Hardhoof,” she said, looking around the mostly deserted pens. “Have you seen Master Scourge yet?”

The minotaur cast a sour look towards her, before snorting once and grinding his hoof forcefully into the hard stone floor. He was out of sorts, with the news of the successful campaign against Bone’s Landing, he’d anticipated receiving at least five thousand new slaves to process, and had just now discovered that no new slaves would be incoming. He was sometaurus that valued a structured life above all else, and without the expected slaves to process, he didn’t know what to do with himself.

“Aria, what an unexpected pleasure,” he sarcastically said, feeling resentful towards the order, and by extension her, for failing to provide him with the expected slaves. His hand rested lightly against his whip, and he could feel the urge to use it against a disobedient slave rising. “I haven’t yet seen your master today, so go bother sometaurus else.”

“Taskmaster Hardhoof, he was scheduled to meet with you today, to discuss with you your planned slave conditioning regimen for this quarter,” she said, reminding him of the appointment.

“I don’t see why he’d even bother showing up,” he replied, growling with surly displeasure. “Without slaves to condition, discussing the conditioning process is rather pointless wouldn’t you say? So get out of my hair, runt!”

She was about to respond to his outburst when she heard a familiar voice rumbling from behind them.

“Taskmaster Hardhoof,” Scourge said, moving between them and fixing one of his large ethereal blue eyes squarely on the minotaur. “If you find your lack of work distressing, I’m sure the Slave King would welcome your induction into his service as his newest acquisition.”

Taskmaster Hardhoof looked down at the doomhound with contempt in his yellow eyes, before pointing to the brands nearly hidden beneath the light green fur on his shoulders. “Scourge, this marks me as a citizen, and the Slave King’s equal,” he said, folding his arms in front of him defensively. “Notaurus may command me against my will, so save your threats for sometaurus else.”

Scourge laid back his ethereal ears, and lowered his head submissively. “My apologies, Taskmaster Hardhoof, for my breach of decorum,” he said, sighing deep with regret.

“Yeah, well I’m sorry for being a bit of a pony there,” he apologized, sheepishly running his fingers through his green mane. “I just don’t know what to do with myself with all this free time. Also, the arch duke is going to be all over my hide when the available workers start running thin.”

“The Slave King is prepared for some disruptions in construction,” Scourge replied, sitting down on his haunches. “Additionally, I’ve discussed with him the possibility of allowing free labor to help alleviate any disruptions.”

“Free labor!” the minotaur bellowed, unable to believe what he’d just heard. “Are you mad? Mingle slaves and free labor together, and you’ll have open dissent within a fortnight, followed by riots before the year is up.”

“As I said,” he replied, trying to calm the minotaur down. “We’ll be discussing the anticipated labor shortages during next week’s council meeting.”

“What rubbish!” he shouted, twisting his heavy whip with his powerful hands. “There’s over a score of pony settlements on our side of the border. Take your knights, and relieve the ponies of their excess population.”

“The Slave King has decreed a prohibition on raiding pony settlements,” Scourge said, reminding the taskmaster that doing so was a violation of the law. “The Slave King feels that it’s prudent to maintain a good relationship with our neighbors to the north.”

“And to what end?” Hardhoof replied, pulling out a coin to show Scourge. “Here in the south the strong rule, and the weak serve.”

“Taskmaster, I’ll be sure to pass on your concerns to the Slave King when I speak with him later today,” he said, tiring of the conversation. “In the meantime, why not enjoy this week’s holiday. The renewal only happens once a year after all.”

“Bah!” Hardhoof grunted, walking away and flicking his whip threateningly at the few remaining slaves in the processing center as he passed their pens.

“Aria, I fear we might have a mutiny on our paws soon,” Scourge said, as they walked away from the slave processing center. “If his attitude about free labor is any indication of the general population’s.”

“Master, he did make several valid points,” she said, walking besides him as they passed by several merchants hawking their various wares.

Pausing to smell one of the merchant’s meat stuffed roasted apples, he turned to his disciple. “It’s not often I envy the living,” he said, looking mournfully at the mouthwatering treats that were forever denied to him.

Handing a few coins to the diamond dog vendor, Aria grabbed a stuffed apple and began eating it. “Master, the fruit bears a smoky flavor from the smoked meat,” she said describing the various flavors she could taste. “The apple itself, is moist and tender. And the meat’s falling apart in my mouth.”

“Thank you for sharing that with me Aria,” he said, gazing longingly once more at the vendor wares, before resuming their journey to the palace.

“I think introducing free labor alongside slaves is a mistake master,” she said, echoing her earlier sentiment. “The slaves will resent the free laborers freedom, and the free laborers will surely sow dissent among the slave population.”

“Aria,” he replied, looking up at her with a slight smile. “We’ll worry about that next week. For now, let’s just enjoy our walk through the city.”

Smiling down at her master, she rested her hand against his armor as they walked alongside each other in silence.

*****

“You two, have been granted a great honor by the Slave King,” Harmony, the Black said, guiding her two charges through the twisting passages of the Slave King’s ruined palace. “Serve him well, and you’ll be rewarded. Fail him, and you’ll join the others in the Cavern of Torment.”

“Yes, Lady Harmony,” Gunhilde reservedly said, remembering what she’d seen here earlier, and grateful the Slave King hadn’t inflicted some great punishment upon her for her transgression.

“Gunhilde, there’s no need to call me Lady Harmony,” she said, gently correcting the doe. “We’re all servants of the Slave King, and equals in his service.”

“This is so boring!” Chrysalis complained, looking critically at the cracked and damaged walls of the palace. Currently, she was still in her diamond dog disguise, and though she had enjoyed a large helping of lust for breakfast from some of the Slave King’s willing soldiers, she still felt a bit peckish.

“Boring or not,” Harmony said, biting her tongue. “You need this orientation, your lives might depend on it.”

“What possible dangers could lurk in the Slave King’s home?” Chrysalis dismissively asked, having difficulty believing that anything dangerous could exist in such a powerful deity’s own house. “The Earth bends to his whim, only a fool would dare oppose him here!”

Harmony gave her a hard look. Though she knew that the Slave King had entrusted this diamond dog in Gunhilde’s care, she had no idea why. “While it’s true nothing here might pose a risk to the Slave King, your safety is quite a different matter.”

Gunhilde shivered slightly, she could still feel the hot breath of whatever had chased her up the stairs breathing down her neck, and wondered if there were similar horrors to be found elsewhere inside the palace. “Harmony, thank you for your warning,” she said, looking down a side passage that had caught her attention. As they passed it, she thought she noticed something dark moving in the shadows with her peripheral vision. Looking once more, all she saw was a ruined fresco depicting Lord Darkpaw, the former Lord of Earth.

Harmony gave the doe a kind smile. “Gunhilde, follow my instructions, and your safety in assured,” she said, before turning towards Chrysalis and pointing a finger at her. “However if you ignore what I say, you do so at your own peril.”

Chrysalis rolled her eyes, confident in the ‘gifts’ that the Slave King had given her, would protect her from any dangers the palace contained.

“Now remember,” Harmony said, continuing with their orientation. “The Slave King’s brand marks you as his property. As such, nofeather in the domain will question you if you make demands of them on his behalf.”

“You mean I could order anyhound to do whatever I say?” Chrysalis asked, surprised she had been granted so much authority.

“Only up to a point,” Harmony said, frowning at the question. If she wasn’t sure of it before, she knew now that this Chrysalis was going to be nothing but trouble. “Anyfeather is free to refuse what they consider an impossible request, additionally abusing your mark’s authority will have dire consequences.”

Hearing her mention dire consequences, made Chrysalis blanche. Remembering how it had made her flesh burn when the Slave King activated her brand briefly, she shuddered when she tried contemplating how badly it might hurt if should she ever be punished for misconduct. Hoping to discover the bounds of her brand’s power, she pressed further. “So who administers the punishments should we ever misbehave,” she asked.

“Ordinarily only the Slave King himself has the power to punish you via your brand,” Harmony said, giving her a dark look. “But in your particular case, Gunhilde has been granted power over your mark.”

“What!” Gunhilde and Chrysalis said in unison.

“Yes, Gunhilde could at any time she chooses send you into agony,” Harmony said, pointing to a small mark above Chrysalis’s slave brand. “Those marked as the Slave King’s personal property, have a unique marking separate from their brand. Beyond its use as a personal identification, it can be used to link slaves to each other like you are, and it even allows you access to the Slave King’s power in limited ways if he so wills it.”

“So it’s like one of Lord Triton’s tokens of the Lawgiver?” Gunhilde asked, looking behind her as she caught something moving in the corner of her eye.

“That would be an apt comparison,” Harmony agreed. “But with some notable differences. Unlike the Lawgiver’s tokens, that demanded perfect obedience to his laws in order to function, your brand’s power will never fade unless he removes it from you.”

“So, Harmony, where’s your brand?” Chrysalis pointedly asked.

“Unlike you slave,” she replied, pointing to the brand adorning her flank. “I serve the Slave King of my own free will, and nofeather may command me.”

“Humph,” Chrysalis replied, slightly miffed at being reminded of her status as mere property.

“So what dangers should we watch out for?” Gunhilde asked, hoping to direct the conversation towards something else.

“Well for one, don’t ever leave the palace unaccompanied by somefeather,” Harmony replied. “When the city fell by the Slave King’s hand, most of the residents instantly perished. Unfortunately, many couldn’t enter the Summerlands, and now they exist as the hungry dead, forever cursed to wander the city until their bodies are destroyed or their souls purified.”

“Do you honestly expect us to believe something as ridiculous, as the dead coming back to life?” Chrysalis scoffed.

Harmony stopped walking, and pointed towards an open window. From their vantage point, they could easily see the silhouettes of hundreds of broken buildings. “If you don’t believe me,” she said, narrowing her eyes at Chrysalis in challenge. “Feel free to enter the city and loot its treasures.”

“I just might take you up on that offer,” she replied, looking out towards the city and wandering what untold riches it might still hold.

“All right, exploring the ruins of the Diamond Vale is a bad idea,” Gunhilde said, making a mental note to never enter the city if she could help it.

“Second, there are some places in the palace you should avoid if you can,” Harmony said, motioning for them to continue following her. “Specifically the Grotto of Memories, the manufactorium, and the vault to name a few.”

“I was in the Grotto of Memories yesterday,” Gunhilde said, thinking back to odd instance of its door disappearing after she exited it. “After I left, the door disappeared behind me.”

“As a general rule, unless the Slave King wishes you to enter the forbidden areas of the palace, you won’t even be able to find them,” she answered. “But on occasion, whether by luck or misfortune, you might come upon those places. If you do, immediately return the way you came.”

“What would happen to us if we managed to find ourselves in say the vault, and decided to look around?” Chrysalis asked, curious as to what treasures it might contain.

“Then pray that The Vendetta is still secured,” Harmony answered, shaking her head in disbelief that this slave could be so foolhardy. “The last feather that found their way into the vault, was consumed by it. It took us a week to clean up the mess.”

“Is there anything else we should watch out for?” Gunhilde asked, feeling the hairs on the back of her neck rising. She wasn’t quite positive, but she was almost certain they were being stalked by somedeer. “Or was that it?”

“The last danger to watch out for is Nightmare,” she answered, stopping briefly at an intersection before choosing the eastern corridor.

“Who’s nightmare?” Chrysalis asked, raising her eyebrow curiously.

“Nightmare is the Slave King’s first creation,” she replied. “She’s equal parts rage and malice, with a bit of malevolence thrown in for good measure. She does as she wishes, and listens to nofeather. Not even the Slave King has complete control over her.”

“She sounds like a barrel of laughs,” Chrysalis sarcastically whispered to Gunhilde.

“Mock her at your own risk,” Harmony warned. “Nightmare’s been known to kill for even the smallest slight.”

“I’ll remember that,” she said.

“Hopefully she’ll eat you, and spare me the paperwork,” Harmony muttered under her breath.

“So where does she usually spend her time?” Gunhilde asked, hoping she would never have the misfortune of meeting such a terrible creature.

“Everywhere and anywhere, when she’s not standing watch besides the Slave King’s throne,” Harmony said, straightening her cloak and broach. “The best advice I can offer is to ignore her should you have the misfortune to ever meet her. She’s usually a solitary creature, but she’s quite fond of stalking the ruins for the hungry dead. And before you ask, yes, that’s another reason you want to avoid going into the city as well.”

“I wonder why the Slave King would keep such a beast in his employ, if she’s as terrible as you say.” Chrysalis said, looking at a nearby shadow.

“No sooner had she spoken, then a great beast, as black as night leapt out at her with its fangs bared. Deftly, Chrysalis dodged the creature’s assault, and prepared to defend herself. Staring into its red, rage filled eyes made her experience a terror she never knew was possible. Tapping into the power the Slave King had granted her, she focused on a nearby Earth ley line in hopes of stunning it. But before she could unleash her magic, she felt Harmony smacking her sharply on the snout, dissipating the built up magic.

Harmony gave both Chrysalis and the beast a look of exasperation. “Nightmare, the Slave King expressly said no killing anyfeather in the palace!” she snapped, scolding her for her breach of decorum.

Nightmare gave Harmony a venomous look, before focusing her burning eyes squarely on Chrysalis. Though Chrysalis couldn’t help feeling terrified, she absorbed the creature’s rage, and used it to strengthen herself. Feeling empowered by such strong emotions, she cast her own gaze at Nightmare, letting the beast know she was unafraid.

Never before had Nightmare experienced such cheek! Outraged that the insect refused to know her place, she poured all her rage and malevolence into her burning eyes in hopes of cowing her. I rule here! her gaze declared. Should I will it, your life will be short and suffering long.

Chrysalis, empowered by Nightmare’s previous glare, readily devoured all her anger and felt herself getting stronger. Releasing her changeling magic, she reached out into the beast’s heart and was surprised by what she found. She discovered Nightmare loved the Slave King, of all creatures! Enlightened by her discovery, she reached out with her magic and whispered her discovery into Nightmare’s ear.

When she learned that this diamond dog bitch knew her most closely guarded secret, and was even taunting her with it, Nightmare nearly flew into a murderous rage. If not for Slave King’s brand protecting them, she would have slain Chrysalis, Gunhilde, and even Harmony where they stood.

Sensing Nightmare’s agitation, Harmony released her own magic, encasing herself in the power of flame and shadow. “Nightmare, leave us at once!” her voice rumbled in reprimand, nearly a match for her father’s commanding tone. Her eye’s burned green and red with the combined might of the Earth’s and Fire’s elemental power. “You might rule the darkness, but I command the light. Go, before we discover which of us is the stronger.”

Nightmare whined under Harmony’s withering glare. Shaking with rage at being denied her vengeance against the one who so foolishly defied her, she gave Chrysalis one last hate filled look before skulking off into the darkness.

Once they were safe from Nightmare’s retribution, Harmony released the magic flowing through her and collapsed against a nearby wall. “Like I said before,” she said, giving Chrysalis a baleful look. “Don’t ever antagonize Nightmare, not if you value your lives.”

Gunhilde looked angrily at Chrysalis, realizing what she had just done. “You fool!” she hissed. “You nearly killed us all.”

“Give her, her punishment for endangering our lives,” Harmony said to Gunhilde. “It’ll be better for her if it comes from you, rather than from the Slave King.”

When she heard them discussing her punishment, Chrysalis’s eyes went wide with fear. “Please no!” she begged, desperate to escape the bite of her brand.

Gunhilde knew that unless she disciplined her now, Chrysalis might continue her willful behavior, and endanger their lives. “I’m sorry, but hopefully I won’t ever need to do this again,” she said, tapping into the magic linking their brands together. As the magic they shared flowed from her and into Chrysalis’s brand, she found she could direct the pain as she saw fit. Deciding to make it harsh and swift, she sent a torrent of suffering through Chrysalis’s bones. Almost as soon as it began, it was finished. Only the echoes of her scream’s and soft sobbing could be heard in the passageway.

Harmony nodded her approval at Gunhilde’s chosen punishment. It was quick, but hurt so badly as to leave a lasting impression on Chrysalis. Most only needed to experience such pain once, before permanently learning their lesson. “I need to go now,” she said, heading towards a nearby door. Before opening it, she directed their attention towards a pair of large ornate doors. “The Slave King’s personal quarters are that way. They connect to all the important parts of the palace. If you need further instructions, or are ever lost, speak with either myself or Melody, via one of the rune stones found throughout the palace.”

“You mean one of these?” Gunhilde asked, touching a large emerald on the wall carved with strange symbols.

Yes, harmony’s voice echoed in her mind, any of the Slave King’s servants may use them. I suggest seeing to the bitch and the Slave King’s luggage, before tonight’s inauguration.

Am I also expected to see to his guests needs? she asked, curious if her responsibilities were going to be expanded.

No, Harmony telepathically answered. Arrangements have already been made for the visiting members of the Pantheon. So feel free to enjoy tonight’s festivities.

Turning towards Chrysalis, Gunhilde gently lifted her up and onto her back. “I’m sorry for hurting you so badly,” she said, genuinely sorry she had caused anydeer such pain.

“No, it’s my own fault,” Chrysalis said between sobs, grateful the experience was over so quickly. “Next time I’ll be more careful.”

Shaking her head in disbelief, Gunhilde realized somedeer just never learn.

*****

“Oh that feels wonderful,” he said, his voice rumbling with pleasure while he laid on the bed.

In truth, it’d literally been centuries since he felt this wonderful. Even all the times he’d spent with Lady Zephyr and Lady Suzaku had never left him in such a relaxed state. Unlike the flat hooves of the pink mare on top of him, their talons always raked his flesh, leaving scratches and sometimes even drawing his blood.

“Ah, your majesty, did you enjoy that?” the mare teased, bearing down on him.

He released another sigh in response. “Yes, if you keep this up, I might be tempted to steal you away from Celestia,” he said, closing his eyes and enjoying the exquisite sensations that her expert ministrations offered him.

“Your majesty,” she gasped, pressing her body into him deeply. “The princess might become cross with you should you do that.”

He groaned in delight as she worked him over. Lost in the thrall of the pleasure she offered him, he didn’t respond to the sharp knocking on his door. His companion, flattened her ears and shook her blue mane worriedly, concerned that he was needed by somepony important.

When he realized that she had stopped moving, he opened his eyes and looked at her crossly. “Why did you stop?” he asked, eager for her to continue servicing him.

“Your majesty,” she said, slightly worried. “Somepony’s at your chamber door. Should I leave you?”

“No, they can wait,” he replied, his body greedily desiring that the mare would continue pleasing him.

When the knocking resumed, it sounded even more urgent than before, Annoyed that they wouldn’t leave him be, he growled in frustration at the interruption. Sensing he was feeling agitated, the mare thought it best to move off of him.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he growled, grabbing her flanks to prevent her from climbing off of him.

“Well, your majesty, I don’t want to cause a scandal,” she replied, slightly flustered by the situation. “If they see us like this, ponies might talk.”

“Then let them,” he darkly replied. “Being seen with a pony is hardly the most scandalous thing I’ve ever done.”

“Very well, your majesty,” she said, blushing furiously as the thoughts of being discovered by his servants rushed through her mind. Biting her lip, she bared down on him once more, and began pushing vigorously against him with all her earth pony strength.

“Thank you,” he sighed, enjoying the pleasure she continued giving him. Clenching his fist, he opened the door. “Enter, and be quick about it!”

Ringing Bells entered the spacious room, followed by Arch Duke Fifi le Yipyap, Second, and Shadow Knight Sombra. Seeing that they were the reason for the interruption, he scowled slightly before sinking into the mattress, hoping to enjoy his pony companion’s company for as long as possible.

“Slave King?” the arch duke asked, questioning why his normally reserved master was continuing unashamed in front of them with the mare.

“Yes, what is it?” the Slave King asked, annoyed that his time with this lovely mare was being interrupted.

“I’m pleased to tell you all the preparations have been completed,” he answered, with a slight bow, hoping to avoid angering his master once again. “Your first guests should be arriving within two hours.”

“Good,” he replied, pleased that nothing unexpected would happen tonight. “Is there anything else?”

“Your majesty,” Ringing Bells said, levitating some clothing towards him. “I’m almost done with your clothing, I just need to complete your final fitting.

Groaning with disappointment that he’d have to get out of the bed, he nodded once. “Very well, I’ll finish up here and then do the fitting as agreed,” he said. Turning to his pony companion, he offered her a smile of gratitude. “Thank you, I haven’t felt this rested in centuries.”

“Oh it was my pleasure, your majesty,” she said bowing to him, honored that she was able to make a member of the Pantheon feel so wonderful.

“I take it you enjoyed the massage?” Ringing Bells asked.

“Yes I did. Her hooves relieved me of centuries of pent up stress,” he replied, sighing in regret as the pony masseuse climbed off him. “I’ll have to see about borrowing her again sometime in the future.”

“Of course, your majesty,” she said, offering him a cheerful smile. “My spa in Londwhinium is always open to you. Just ask for Orchid.”

“The Earth won’t forget you in your time of need,” he said, before giving Second and Sombra a hard look. “Arch duke, why did you admit Second and Sombra in with you?”

“Slave King, that was my idea,” Second said, offering the Slave King a dark grin. “I want to send Sombra to the crystal ponies immediately.”

“Why is that?” the Slave King asked, curious as to what his true motives were.

“It’s rumored Lord Triton is bringing his entire honor guard with him,” he explained, giving Sombra a glare. “Each of them has sworn an oath to duel Sombra in order to avenge Sir Hurricane, the Gallant’s honor. Since an incident is almost guaranteed, I want him out of the palace before Lord Triton and his entourage arrives.”

“That’s a prudent course of action, Second,” he said, giving the doomhound a thoughtful look. “Are you sure you aren’t really a changeling in disguise?”

When he heard the Slave King’s accusation, he barked with laughter. “No, my king,” he chuckled. “Sometimes, I put aside my plots and schemes for the good of the Domain.”

“Very well,” he said, getting up off the bed and facing Sombra. Resting his burning gaze on the unicorn, he prepared to grant him his reward for winning the contest. “Shadow Knight Sombra, why have you come seeking an audience with me?”

Sombra, knowing the ritual, bowed deeply before the Slave King and presented him with a large golden coin baring his likeness. The coin was infused with the Slave King’s power, and emanated the green energy of the Earth. Levitating the token into his outstretched hand, he bowed once more. “Slave King,” he said, “I’m your faithful servant, Shadow Knight Sombra, and I’ve come to claim a boon granted to me for my loyal service to the Domain of Earth.”

“Do you know the price for offering me a false claim?” he asked, his burning green eyes flashing with power. “Have any coerced you in your claim?”

“Yes, I’m prepared to be slain for my deceit, if my claim is false,” he replied. “I make this claim of my own free will.”

The Slave King held the token in his hand, and absorbed its power until it crumbled into dust. “Very well,” he said, following the ritual. “Shadow Knight Sombra, I’ve verified the authenticity of your boon. As is your right, you may claim anything under or over the Earth, and it shall be granted to you.”

“I desire stewardship over the crystal ponies in the northern most reach of Equestria,” he said, holding his head low.

Reaching out with his finger, the Slave King touched Sombra’s head, granting him his request. As his liege’s divinity flowed through him, Sombra felt his brand changing to reflect his new status.

“It is done,” the Slave King rumbled. Pointing towards Sombra’s brand he gave the unicorn a hard look. “Your mark now grants you authority over the crystal ponies. Follow the arrangements I have with them to the letter. Abuse them, and you’ll share Arch Duke Fifi le Yipyap’s fate.”

When he heard the warning, Sombra shuddered. Everypony knew what torments the arch duke had once suffered at the Slave King’s hooves. Slightly shaken, he nodded once. “Slave King, I swear to serve you faithfully,” he swore, hoping that he wouldn’t be able to uncover his lies.

“Good, now that that’s out of the way,” Second said to Sombra, giving his subordinate a hardened look. “Head to Winter immediately, and see to your new responsibilities. Should you ever return here unbidden, I’ll slay you. I’ll send word to you later.”

“Of course, Master Second,” Sombra said, offering them a slight bow, before exiting the room.

“You seem rather displeased with him,” the Slave King remarked, surprised by Second’s hostility towards Sombra who was supposed to be his most favored lieutenant. “Has something transpired between the two of you that I should be made aware of?”

“It’s nothing Slave King,” Second said, turning to leave as well. “Sombra was disappointed that he’d be missing this week’s festivities, and was reluctant starting his punishment so soon.”

The Slave King gave the doomhound a malevolent smile. “See to it that he’s on a land wurm to Winter before the hour is up,” he said, stroking his beard. Ride with him there, and ensure he doesn’t alienate the crystal ponies.”

“But I have responsibilities here!” Second objected, trying to dissuade his king from making him go all the way to Winter for no reason.

“While you’re there, pick up my latest shipment of crystals,” he said, issuing the command in such a way that he had no way of weaseling out of the trip. Seeing his servant’s annoyance at being forced to go, he offered him a small consolation to take the bite off the lengthy trip. “Since you claim your responsibilities here are so urgent, you may ride on Nidhogg, the Devourer to get there. He’ll have you there and back before night is through.”

“Nidhogg, your majesty…” he said, not sure he wanted to ride the erratic land wurm all the way to Winter and back.

Nidhogg, the Devourer, patriarch of the land wurm race, was once one of Lord Ouroboros’s black dragons. However, due to a service he performed for the Slave King, he would’ve faced banishment or worse at the Fire Tyrant’s claws should he have ever returned to the Domain of Fire. Wishing to repay the dragon’s great service, the Slave King offered him a place at his side. The dragon, with few other options, readily agreed to receive the Slave King’s brand. Thus, he become the first of the land wurms, and one of the Slave King’s most faithful, if not most eccentric followers.

Second knew, if they misspoke in his presence, Nidhogg would immediately report their untoward behavior to the Slave King. However, his master’s plans required his presence here tonight. Knowing he had few options left to him, he reluctantly agreed. “Thank you for so graciously offering me the use of Nidhogg,” he said, with a slight bow.

“Second, enjoy your trip,” the Slave King replied with a dark chuckle, at his subordinate’s displeasure at having to go all the way to Winter on such short notice.

Leaving the room, Second angrily narrowed his eyes at having been so inconvenienced by the Slave King’s whim. Running towards Sombra, he angrily nipped at his flanks.

“Argh!” Sombra cried out in pain, confused why he was being so roughly treated.

“Head to the station!” Second impatiently snarled. “We’re leaving immediately.”

“But my things…” Sombra objected, hoping to grab his luggage before he went into what basically constituted exile.

“Are irrelevant,” Second growled. “Defy me again, and I’ll break your legs and leave you in the city for the ghouls to devour!”

“Ye… yes Master Second,” he said, running alongside him.

As they ran through the empty halls of the ruined palace, they passed dozens of ponies, diamond dogs, griffins, and the various other races that were completing their final preparations for what promised to be a magnificent party. Sombra could feel the muscles in his legs burning, as they exited the palace and onto the main causeway that headed towards the Neo Vale. Though he wanted to slow his pace, one look from Second’s burning eyes made him push himself even harder.

The sounds of his hooves pounding against the hard stone highway that lead to the great city, echoed as they weaved past ponies and griffins pulling carts. By now his legs were screaming for a break, but he didn’t dare stop. He could only hope, that once he was in Winter and ruling over the crystal ponies, that he would finally be free of Second once and for all. While he had no great love for the Slave King, he knew serving him well would offer him great rewards.

The Neo Vale loomed ahead of them like a dark fortress, its dark metal buildings constructed of arcanum softly reflecting the shining sun overhead. While waiting to be admitted through the tunnel into the city proper, Sombra took the chance to rest his burning muscles and catch his breath. “What’s the rush master?” he asked, hoping to discover why he was being forced to leave with only the armor on his back and his hastily packed saddlebags.

“The Slave King, in his infinite wisdom, thought it would be entertaining if I were to escort you to your new position in the north,” he said, impatiently raking his claws against the pavement, and leaving deep gouges as they waited to be admitted into the city.

“What about…” Sombra asked, before being silenced by a death glare from the doomhound.

“Speak of it unbidden, and I will gut you and wear your skin as a cloak,” Second threatened, bringing a claw against Sombra’s neck. “But to answer your question, I was able to convince him of the urgency of my business tonight. So he granted us the use of Nidhogg’s services.”

“What if we’re discovered?” he asked, worried that the Slave King might discover his treachery.

“Keep your muzzle shut, and that won’t be a problem,” Second warned him. “But if you find not speaking to be too great a burden, I’ll happily remove your tongue.”

“That won’t be necessary master,” he mutedly replied, ashen faced when he thought about how the doomhound might follow through with his threats. “How should I report to you?”

“The usual method,” he replied, feeling his temper threatening to flare out of control.

“There’s a small problem then…” Sombra said, slightly afraid by how Second might react.

“What is it this time?” he demanded, his agitated voice now nearly a whisper.

“I left it behind, secured in a lock box in my luggage…” he explained, hoping that he wouldn’t bite him again.

When he heard his subordinate’s answer, Second’s coat began smoking, as small black flames emerged from beneath his armor. Taking a deep breath, he turned to the nearest guard and smiled. “Friend,” he said, showing off his razor sharp teeth. “We’re entering the city next.”

The guard was about to rebuff him, when he looked into the doomhounds eyes and shook with fright. It was as if he was looking into the black abyss of the Pit. The poor guard clutched at his heart, feeling his life threatening to slip away. Nodding weakly, he admitted them into the tunnel next, ignoring the incensed shouts of the others that were waiting for their turns to enter the city.

Sombra felt relieved, that Second had turned his wrath towards the guardsdog rather than him. Once they were well inside the poorly lit tunnel, he stopped when he saw the burning eyes staring back at him.

“You left it behind!” Second raged, verifying that Sombra had indeed vexed him once again.

“Yes, I felt it was reckless carrying it unsecured in my saddlebags. I wasn’t expecting to leave it behind” Sombra explained, hoping his master would accept his excuse.

When Second didn’t respond, he let out a sigh of relief.

Later that day, when their superiors asked the guardsdogs stationed outside the tunnel what had happened, they didn’t know what to tell them. All they could report, was the prolonged screams they heard echoing from inside the dark tunnel and the foul stench of pitch and brimstone permeating the air.

*****

Nidhogg was enjoying the start of his vacation, and eating from an assortment of gourmet loams, stones, and metals. They were a personal gift from the Slave King for his quick work in completing the Ghastly Gorge and Howling Canyon lines ahead of schedule. He bit into a foamy loam accentuated with the gritty texture of sand, and garnished with a bit of chalk and shale for good measure. Reclining against his modest hoard, he relaxed as he read this week’s news, and enjoyed the good life.

“Oh the Slave King has outdone himself this time!” he shouted, crowing with delight at flavor the decadent delicacy offered. Looking longingly at the remainder of his gift, he was contemplating having another, when he heard the ringing of the bell outside the entrance to his lair. Placing the parchment he’d been reading to the side, he slithered off his moderate hoard and made his way towards the entrance, wondering who it could possibly be. Poking out his large head, he was ready to tell the salesscale at his door he wasn’t interested in buying. When he discovered just who it was that had interrupted his personal time he frowned. It was none other than Second, the Doomhound, and a rather sullen looking and bruised unicorn that had darkened his doorstep

Normally, Nidhogg would have nothing to do with Second. He considered the doomhound a vile beast, unworthy of wearing the Slave King’s brand. However, his personal feelings aside, he happily served the Slave King in all things, and decided to fulfill his duty no matter how distasteful he might find it.

“What an unexpected pleasure, Second,” he said, giving the doomhound a thoughtful look. Smelling them, he pulled back his head in revulsion as the scent of sulfur assaulted his delicate nostrils. “Looking for directions to the nearest bathhouse perhaps?”

Second was in no mood to deal with Nidhogg’s barbs, and gave him a flat look. “You’re to carry us to the Crystal Ponies up north. And then return with me and the latest shipment as quickly as possible,” he said as forcefully as he could.

“All the way to Winter!” Nidhogg shouted, annoyed that he was being made to work on a holiday. “Can’t you take somescale else? There’s a party happening tonight!”

“No,” Second replied, hoping to curtail his protests. “The Slave King was very specific about you taking us there. If we leave now, hopefully we can be back before the feasting begins.”

“Ah nuts,” he sighed, resigned himself to doing some overtime tonight. “Well, I suppose I can bring back a few crates of crystals to enjoy later.”

“Speaking of which,” Second said, “what exactly are the crystals for?”

Nidhogg gave him a dismissive look. “Sorry, Second, that’s on a need to know basis, and you don’t need to know,” he haughtily replied, before sticking his tongue out at the doomhound. Looking at Sombra closely, he gave him a concerned look. “What’s with the pony? He looks and smells like he was drug through the Pit.”

“Oh, Sombra here was a bit clumsy,” he explained, giving his subordinate a malicious sneer. “He repeatedly fell down several flights of stairs. Didn’t you, Sombra?”

“Yes, I was clumsy,” he replied, trying his best not to cry.

“Okay…” Nidhogg said, not entirely convinced he was being told the truth. “Let me slip into my saddle and we can be on our way.”

“Finally,” Second said, relieved that this phase of the plan was nearly complete.

Sombra said nothing, instead sobbed silently as he cursed Second with all the hate in his heart.

*****

“Now be reasonable your highness,” Ringing Bells said, as the scissors, combs, and various other styling implements she levitated with her magic were being batted away by the unwilling deity. “We had an agreement after all.”

“I agreed to be measured for clothing, nothing more!” the Slave King said, feeling agitated by the stubborn mare’s refusal to back down.

“But it’s all the rage in Marelantis and Londwhinium!” Ringing Bells shouted, trying to convince him of the virtue of her cause. “Even in the Golden Eyrie, some of the nobility have taken to styling their plumage this way.”

“I’ll have no part in foppish buffoonery!” he declared, reaching for his iron crown. “Madam, I draw the line at ringlets and curls.”

“Arch duke, do something about your master,” she huffed, frustrated that the Slave King was refusing to accept her offered fabulosity.

The arch duke, desperately trying to refrain from laughing at his master’s predicament, decided it was time for a bit of payback. “Slave King, you did after all agree to at least try her fashion, before making your final decision,” he reminded him, hoping to push him into acceding to the fashionista’s demands.

“Traitor!” the Slave King growled, finally allowing Ringing Bell’s combs and scissors unfettered access to his beard and hair.

“Oh thank you so much!” she cried out, kissing the arch duke on the cheek. “I don’t how to thank you.”

“Perhaps styling his fur and whiskers, might be an appropriate reward,” the Slave King suggested, giving the arch duke an annoyed frown.

“Your majesty, what a fabulous idea!” she sung, excited with the possibility of influencing the future fashion trends of the Domain of Earth.

“As generous as that offer is…” Arch Duke Fifi le Yipyap stammered, trying to escape her combs and brushes. “I just remembered, I’m needed elsewhere.”

“Awww,” she pouted, disappointed that she couldn’t work her magic on the arch duke as well.

“Actually,” the Slave King said, tapping into his power and adhering the arch duke’s feet to the floor. “His schedule just opened up, didn’t it?”

“Oh my mistake,” he chuckled weakly, silently dreading what horrors the unicorn was about to unleash on his whiskers which he considered his pride and joy.

“Come, sit with me,” the Slave King offered, as his hair and beard were being shaped and styled by her magic.

Sitting down beside his liege, he weakly smiled. “Is this to be the extent of my punishment?” he asked, hopeful he wouldn’t be humiliated any further.

“Oh your punishment has only just begun,” he darkly whispered, before getting an idea. “Ringing Bells, I know it’s rather short notice, but do you think you might be able to whip something up, to go with the arch duke’s new style.”

“I’m not sure there’ll be enough time,” she said, tapping her hoof against her muzzle thoughtfully.

“Maybe improving his current clothing with a bit of your own flare,” he offered, giving the arch duke a smug look.

“If you don’t have the time to do it properly, I’ll understand,” the arch duke said, hoping to dissuade her from running his favorite doublet. “Don’t worry about it if you’re unable to do it in time.”

“No!” she declared, feeling the power of inspiration coursing through her horn. “Fashion demands that I do this!”

“Oh, what have I done…” the arch duke sighed, as he resigned himself to his fate, while the Slave King had a good laugh at his expense.

*****

Nearly an hour had passed, and Ringing Bells had completed what she claimed was a fashion miracle. In her hooves, she held his doublet, accentuated with all matter of gemstones interlaced with gold and silver threads provided courtesy of the Slave King.

“Try it on!” she said, clopping her hooves together in excitement.

“Yes, what’re you waiting for? Try it on!” the Slave King goaded him.

Sighing with resignation, he put on the doublet, and inspected himself in the mirror. His fur had been curled and piled as tall as possible on his head, while his once proud and fierce whiskers were now delicately curled around his muzzle in intricate shapes and patterns.

“So don’t you just think that you simply fabulous!” she beamed, inspecting her hoofwork.

“Fabulous isn’t how I’d describe it…” he muttered. [More like a disaster.

“You’ve done a marvelous job with the arch duke,” the Slave King said, offering her praise. “I’ll make sure you’re well compensated, for your time and effort.”

“Oh, it was no bother your majesty,” she dreamily said. “Being able to serve you has been the highlight of my career.”

Hearing how much this meant to her, made him pause. Originally, he’d planned on summarily rejecting her outfit and hairstyle in favor of his usual look. But now, he decided that he’d wear what she’d made for him, for at least the first day.

“So tell me what you think, your majesty” she nervously asked, praying to Celestia and the gods of fashion that he’d accept her offering.

Looking at himself in the mirror, he looked at the impeccably styled ringlets around his head and flared beard, and sighed thinking of all the gems weaved into them. This style definitely wouldn’t be his first choice, but they certainly didn’t make him look like a gaudy fool, which was his main concern.

“I shall wear it gladly,” he said, offering her a smile. “I shall bathe, and then prepare myself to receive my guests.

“Oh thank you so much!” she cheered, ecstatic that he’d accepted her designs.

*****

He sat in his large bath and soaked in the bubbling mineral water, allowing its heat to wash over him. He wasn’t sure what to expect tonight, but all his instincts told him something big was going to happen. Wracking his mind, he tried deciphering who might be plotting against him tonight, but failed to figure it out. Slapping the water in frustration with his fist, he cursed his lack of clairvoyance in these matters. While he considered himself a capable strategist when it came to economic and military matters, he was still a floundering child, drowning in a sea of conspiracy where court intrigue and plots of a personal nature where concerned.

Annoyed at his inability to figure things out on his own, he almost regretting spurning Lady Zephyr’s and Lady Suzaku’s earlier heartfelt proposals of marriage. Lady Zephyr was a forceful creature, capable of coercing cooperation out of almost anyone, and Lady Suzaku was renowned for her skills at manipulating others to bend to her whims. With either of them at his side, his position would’ve been cemented. Securing his safety from almost any conceivable threat.

Then again, there was my ‘marriage’ to Princess Celestia and Princess Luna, he mused, chuckling at the sheer audacity of their claim over him. Originally, it had been simply a ruse to convince Lord Ouroboros, that peace was preferable to civil war. But thanks in no small part to some timely aid from his onetime ally Jormungandr, he’d managed to turn the tables on everyone. Even Princess Celestia had been helpless against their plan, and requested an annulment to their sham marriage as a result.

Perhaps Jormungandr will be feeling generous, he thought, hoping that the reclusive Winding One would make an appearance tonight. Though they’d had little contact in the ensuing centuries after their victory over Lord Ouroboros, he’d always felt grateful to the serpent for his part in elevating him to where he was today.

Getting out of the bath, he began drying himself off as he considered what he knew about the major players of the Pantheon. I know Lord Ouroboros still burns with rage over his defeat, but his pride won’t let him do anything less than fight me in single combat in front of the Pantheon in its entirety, he decided. No, Lord Ouroboros is not planning something overt against me tonight. Lady Zephyr desires me, but she has no wish to harm me. The most I have to fear from her, is that my new look will send her into fits of laughter. I should probably expect that she’ll offer herself to me to help alleviate my burning desires after tonight’s renewal. And as for Lord Triton, he’s still reeling over the Loss of Bone’s Landing. But he hopes to influence me and my Domain through the city’s politics. Any victory against me tonight would be phyric at best, and the Lawgiver doesn’t approve of hollow victories.

What of the others? he thought, reciting in his mind what he knew of the lesser members of the Pantheon. Lady Minoa depends too much on my good will to ever make a hostile move against me. Besides, I don’t think she knows the meaning of the word subtle, let alone have the patience to act on it. And while Lady Suzaku might be devious, her desire for me outweighs even Lady Zephyr’s. I think the most I should expect from her, is an attempt at seducing me into sharing my bed with her.

Now I’ve had little contact with Lord Raiden, he considered, thinking of the kirin sage. But by the way he’s railed against me to the rest of the Pantheon, you’d think I’d sacked his Ziggurat of Knowledge and burnt all the books inside for spite. Though he might oppose me philosophically, he considers himself above the petty squabbles and plotting of his peers. No, he’d accept nothing less than an ideological victory against me by hoisting me by my own petard.

And then there’s old Rimefrost himself, he thought. I can’t even begin fathoming the reasons for Lord Cerynitis’s irrational obsession with me. Beyond the few words we’ve exchanged at the moots and the various negotiations I’ve held with Lord Triton, I’ve had next to no contact with him. By rights, the Lawgiver has more valid reasons to despise me then he does. Yet the Lord of Winter makes petition after petition to the Pantheon for my impeachment. But he doesn’t strike me as someone clever enough to orchestrate a plot without my discovering it first.

Perhaps one of the great plotters and schemers of the Pantheon are the ones seeking my demise, he pondered, dressing in his new finery, courtesy of Ringing Bells. Chief of all is Discord, who poses little threat to me. Even if he managed to somehow escape his stone prison in time to interrupt my inauguration, the most I could expect to have happen, is for him to play a few harmless, yet malicious pranks at my expense. I might even welcome them, if this party is going to be as dull as I think it might be. Lord Ananse on the other hand I know very little about. Though he enjoys being even more cryptic and obtuse then myself, he unceasingly spins the threads of fate on his great web. I’ll bet he fancies himself a behind the scenes player, he’d most likely strike at me from the shadows by proxy. And he’s probably the only god on the Zebrakan continent with the means to reach me.

I’d have to say that Strix, Loki, and Lugh, are only bit players in the greater scheme of things, he thought, adjusting his ruffled silk shirt and satin pantaloons. Although they were once my allies, I can envision them striking out at me for what they consider ‘the greater good of Equestria’. Concerning all the rest of the minor members of the Pantheon, none that I know of would dare make a move against me. And as for Jormungandr, he’s been absent this past decade, and even if he wasn’t, I doubt he wishes me ill. After playing my part in his last great scheme, I think he fancies me a reliable pawn in his game. That leaves only the Unmentionable One, and since Equestria hasn’t been reduced to ashes yet, I think it’s safe to assume we’re still safe from him for the time being.

That leaves only Celestia then, he decided, trying to puzzle out her part in all this. What could she possibly gain by my elimination, beyond the temporary cessation of slavery in the south? There’s no guarantee that my successor would stop the practice, especially when the economic realities of managing the Domain become evident. And if she’s been plotting my downfall, why has Luna been blushing at me like some love struck adolescent? Certainly the plot would be well known to both of them. Why bother trying to romance the one you wish to eliminate. Something doesn’t add up here…

Feeling frustrated and vulnerable, he smashed his metal fist into his reflection, shattering the mirror in the process. Hearing the sounds of breaking glass, Ringing Bells ran into the room with concern for his well-being reflected in her lavender eyes.

“Your highness, is there a problem?” she worriedly asked, cleaning up the broken shards of the mirror with her magic. “It’s the outfit isn’t it? You must hate it!”

“No, it’s not that,” he said, trying to calm down the near hysterical mare. “I’m afraid, I merely lost my temper over something trivial.”

Looking up at him, she smiled, pleased he was wearing the clothing she’d made for him. “Your majesty, you look so handsome,” she dreamily said, fawning over him. “However, your old crown just won’t do.”

“Well a king without his crown is rather meaningless,” he replied, reaching for his iron crown. Without it on, he felt quite naked. While wearing it, he no longer had to be the man he once was, instead he was free to lose himself in the role of the god he’d become. But before he could grab it, she used her magic and held it out of his reach. Frowning at her, he angrily pointed a finger at her. “Return my crown to me this instant!”

“I’ve taken the liberty of having one your dragon-half smiths make a more appropriate crown to accompany you outfit,” she said, levitating a small box towards him. “I believe his name was Ignatius, a regular gentlestallion.”

Opening up the box, he pulled out a small crown made up of twisting gold and arcanum wires. Holding it up with his hand, he thought it looked more like a masquerade mask than a proper crown. “Do you actually expect me to wear this tiny thing?” he asked, giving her a hard look. “It looks like you could snap it in two, just by looking at it wrong.”

“Oh it’s quite sturdy I assure you, your majesty,” she said, encouraging him to put it on. “If at any time, you feel the need to wear your old crown, I’ll be standing by to assist you with a wardrobe change to return you to your old look.”

“Well with an offer like that, how could I possibly refuse,” he replied, placing the new crown on his head, and feeling absolutely silly. “So, Ringing Bells, how do I look?”

“Like a million bits your majesty,” she cooed with excitement, delighted he had agreed to wear the complete ensemble she’d designed for him. Spying his rather scruffy looking false arm, she levitated a cloth and rubbed it vigorously, polishing it to a high sheen. “Your majesty, I’m sure every goddess in attendance tonight will be swooning, the moment they see you, and fighting each other for the chance to catch your eye!”

“Swooning at the mere sight of my glory, you say…” he said, while his mind finally started putting the pieces into place. Turning towards her, he gave her a slight smile. “Would you mind helping me with my cloak?”

“Of course your majesty,” she said, artfully draping Darkpaw’s freshly cleaned pelt across his shoulders.

“Walk with me,” he invited her, moving towards his throne room. “I want everyone to know who it was that made me these wonderful new clothes.”

“Cer… certainly, your majesty,” she said, honored that he would want her of all ponies to escort him to his throne.

Walking through the palace, he noticed the gaping mouths and bewildered faces of his servants and ground his teeth. If they weren’t gossiping about his strange behavior before, they would certainly would be after his new look. “So tell me, Ringing Bells,” he asked, trying to ignore the gawking stares of his slaves and servants. “In what capacity do you normally serve Celestia, the Radiant?”

“Oh, my main responsibility is planning celebrations for the nobility of Londwhinium,” she explained, trotting alongside him.

“What sort of celebrations?” he asked, trying to confirm his suspicions.

“Oh, mainly mar… er, I mean parties, galas, balls, and the like,” she said, offering him a sweet smile.

“I see,” he replied, finally understanding the significance behind her cutie mark. Entering his throne room from a side passage, he sat down and began mentally preparing himself to receive his guests. “Please stand by, in case I need to change back into my usual garb.”

“Certainly, your majesty,” she said, bowing respectfully to him before standing beside his throne.

Sitting in his throne, where everyone could look at him, he suddenly felt very self-conscious of his new appearance. Looking up at Darkpaw’s skull above him, he almost envied him. In his mind’s eye he envisioned that the old hound, like his skull, was grinning at him. “I wonder if you ever had to deal with such ridiculousness,” he muttered at him.

However as usual, Darkpaw’s skull said nothing.

*****

He sternly looked at the assembled stewards, porters, butlers, heralds, and the other assorted servants that would be serving the Slave King’s guests tonight. He was trying to look as intimidating as possible, and was failing miserably. Passing each of them, his sharp ears caught them trying their best not to laugh at him. Normally this sort of behavior would earn them a flogging, but he didn’t have the time to punish them for their transgressions, and decided to let it slide.

“This is the first major event the Slave King has ever hosted,” he said, pointing at each of them. “He expects nothing less than perfection, as you carry out your duties tonight. Remember this, personally serving the Slave King is a great honor. Do not embarrass him.”

The assembled servants, murmured their assent, and took their posts. Making his way back to the throne room, a feminine musical laugh and gravelly voice made him turn around.

“Yipyap, what the Hades happened to you?” a rumbling voice bemusedly asked. “You changing your fashion, to appeal to those urban Londwhinium fillies?”

“No, Scourge,” he sighed, annoyed that he would have to deal with the doomhound’s teasing. “I made the mistake of annoying the Slave King, in convincing him the virtue of trying out a new style.”

“Bawahaha,” Aria chuckled, at his clothes. “Oh, Melody is going to get a kick out of this!”

“Lady Aria,” he growled, annoyed with her for mocking him. “Your sister is much more interested in fawning over the Slave King’s new look.”

“Yipyap…” Scourge said, giving him an accusatory look. “You were supposed to be looking out for Slave King’s interests in these matters.”

“Hey, I had nothing to do with it!” he protested, pointing towards his ruined whiskers. “Celestia sent a pony to prepare the Slave King for tonight, and you know how he can be with bitches. No offense, Lady Aria.”

“None taken, arch duke,” she replied, well aware of the many times her own mother had successfully cajoled the Slave King into do things he normally wouldn’t. “But if the Slave King is embarrassed by this, I’m holding you personally responsible.”

“If Harmony had been here, this wouldn’t be an issue!” he snarled, angry at getting blamed for this situation. “Stewardship over the Slave King’s court is no longer my responsibility, it’s hers.”

“Harmony has been busy setting up wards against the hungry dead, and ensuring Nightmare is behaving herself,” she said, defending her sister’s absence. "But you served in that capacity for centuries, you should’ve known better!”

“This bickering is pointless,” Scourge said, giving each of them a stern look. “Look, what’s done is done. Aria, we simply need to look intimidating enough in the Slave King’s place. Reminding the other powers, that no matter how silly our whiskers look, we’re still strong and powerful.”

“Laugh it up, Scourge,” the arch duke bitterly said to the chuckling doomhound. “One day you’ll annoy him, and he’ll make you parade around in pink armor.”

“I’m sorry, Yipyap,” Scourge apologized, “but you just look so silly.”

“I suggest getting it out of your system now, before seeing the Slave King,” he said, walking towards the throne room.

“Why, is it really as bad as all that?” Scourge asked, wondering what horrors of fashion the unicorn had unleashed on his king.

“I’ll only say one word, and leave it at that... curls,” he said, before they entered the throne room.

It had been several weeks since he’d been here last, and was surprised by how good it looked. The rubble that once littered the ground had been removed, all the damaged murals had been repaired, and the entire room had been thoroughly cleaned from top to bottom. And though they couldn’t completely repair the cracked walls and collapsed ceilings, they’d fixed things enough to make the damage appear as part of the palace’s aesthetic. Had he still possessed eyes, he might have wept with joy. The restored palace, reminded him of the days before the world ended.

Looking towards the great stone throne that rested on a large raised dais, he saw the Slave King speaking with Melody and Harmony. When the arch duke had mentioned his new look, he hadn’t been exaggerating. Though his scent was the same, He nearly looked like a different hound altogether. Though he still wore the cloak of Darkpaw draped across his shoulders, everything else about him was different. Instead of the simple plain clothes he usually wore, he was covered in green silk and black satin accentuated with gems. His normally wild and unkempt mane had been styled with tight curls held together by a weave of gold wire and gemstones. His once wild beard had fared little better, noting it had been shaped and trimmed, and was styled heavily with gems as well. But what surprised him the most, was what had replaced his crown. His heavy iron crown, the symbol of his power and authority, had been replaced by a delicate looking gold and arcanum mask made of twisted wires that wreathed his head.

Scourge saw the changes, and didn’t like them. This brightly colored popinjay, wasn’t his king. Approaching the throne, he bowed low, and growled deeply, voicing his displeasure to the Slave King.

“I take it you don’t approve?” the Slave King said, wearing a bemused look on his face.

Looking at the bitches of the court that were fawning over him, Scourge narrowed his eyes. “Something about this doesn’t sit right with me,” he said, sitting beside his friend.

“So you noticed it too?” the Slave King asked, before giving Melody an annoyed look. “I said stop touching my beard!”

“But, king daddy, it looks so cute!” she pouted, longing to play with his beard some more.

“Harmony, see to it that your sister keeps her hands busy playing her lute,” he commanded.

“Slave King, as you wish,” she said, laying her hand affectionately on his shoulder, before dragging her sister off to play her instrument.

“You see what I’ve had to put up with?” he remarked. “Even levelheaded Harmony seems somewhat affected.

“Aria, stand with the ‘Order of the Shadow’,” Scourge said, noticing that his normally hardened disciple was looking at the Slave King with a softened expression of adoration on her face. “Perhaps you’ve been ensorcelled by the unicorn’s magic?”

“No,” he replied. “Beyond using her magic to levitate her tools, the rest of my fitting and styling sessions were of a mundane nature. Beyond using the soaps and oils she provided me, I have no idea what could possibly be possessing the ladies of my court.”

“I have an idea my king,” he said. “Call Nightmare to your side.”

The Slave King’s eyes burned with power, and a short time later Nightmare entered the room, casting her malevolent gaze at everyone in the room. When she spied the Slave King, a change seemed to come over her. Tilting her head at him, her eyes softened as she sauntered over to his side. Completely ignoring everyone else, she affectionately rubbed up against her master, and placed her head beneath his hand so he could stroke her head.

“Well she certainly seems to be more affectionate than usual,” the Slave King said, stroking her behind the ears with his fingers, which made her purr in ecstasy.

“It’s worse than I realized,” Scourge said, looking the Slave King in the eyes.

“What is it my friend?” he asked, concerned he was in danger from an assassin’s blade.

“My king, you’re under the influence of the most dangerous kind of magic of all,” he said, “the female kind. A glamour designed to make their hearts swoon with desire.”

“It’s as I feared,” he replied. “Celestia, the Radiant is finally making her move against me.”

“So you think it’s the Eris Contingency then?” Scourge asked.

“Yes, we should expect a quarter of the Pantheon’s armies within two weeks,” he replied.

“You could just avoid it altogether,” Scourge suggested, hoping to strengthen their hand before facing such massive forces.

“No, I think teaching the Pantheon a lesson in humility is in order,” he said, giving the doomhound a grin. “I’ve made special preparations for a land invasion. We’ll only need to worry about those that can fly.”

“We have limited capacities in that regard,” Scourge said, trying to dissuade him from committing them to such a costly conflict.

“I’ve been developing a special surprise for any foolish enough to me attack by air,” he said.

“But master, how can we possibly hope repelling such a massive aerial invasion?” he asked, unable to think of a single stratagem that would have a ghost of a chance in succeeding.

“Through superior technology, thanks in part to my crystal ponies,” the Slave King said, feeling confident that everything would work out in the end. “If Celestia, the Radiant, thinks that I’ve lost my edge, she’s sorely mistaken.”

“So that what you’ve been doing with all those…” Scourge said.

“Yes,” he replied, stroking Nightmare black fur once more, much to her pleasure. “Though the results so far have been rather crude, I think it’ll be sufficient enough to make any think twice, before flying unbidden over my Domain.”

“So that explains the incident last year,” Scourge said. “I was wondering what had happened.”

“One of my experiments went awry,” he explained, as Arch Duke Fifi le Yipyap stood at the ready to admit his first guest into his throne room. “So relax, Scourge, everything is well in hand.”

“Yes, Slave King,” he said, bowing before his master’s great wisdom and foresight.

Author's Note

Thank you gentlereader for reading chapter nine of The Book of Water: The Marriage of the Slave King, as always comments are appreciated. My apologies for releasing this chapter late. I had originally planned on having it ready by Saturday, but as I kept writing the chapter kept ballooning in size. At nearly 21k words long, and threatening to hit 25k or even 30k words, I decided it would be best to split the chapter into two parts. I should have chapter ten completed by Saturday at the latest, and chapter eleven I still plan on having ready the week after.

Regarding the scene betwixt the Slave King and Orchid the earth pony masseuse, please forgive me gentlereader for subverting your expectations by including such a blatant double entandre. I have no plans on including erotica in this work, but the temptation to include the scene was too great, and I added it for a bit bit of fun at your expense. Please know gentlereader, I appreciate your humoring me in this regard, and if I offended you in any manner it was unintentional.

I decided to have add Ringing Bells (a pseudo-Rarityesque character) as an opportunity to dress him up a bit. Don't worry gentlereader, this wardrobe change is merely of a temporary nature. He'll be back to his old ways soon enough.

With the introduction of the important secondary characters from The Great Slave King namely Nightmare, Arch Duke Fifi le Yipyap, and Nidhogg, were reaching the pinnacle of the first act. I wonder what the newly kindled rivalry between Chrysalis and Nightmare will bring, and will poor Gunhilde be forced to go along for the ride.

Hopefully I haven't been delving too deeply into the backgrounds of the characters we already know. With Aria I was concerned I might have been trekking back into previously explored territory regarding her strained relationship with the Slave King. But I think it allowed her to share an opportunity to bond with her sister Melody.

With Second and Sombra, I decided to turn them their relationship into a more abusive one. I imagine the officer asking Sombra where he got the black eye, and he nervously says I ran into the door while Second scowls at him menacingly. If you find his characterization poor in that regard, don't worry, future chapter will feature Sombra independent of Second, allowing him to grow into his role as a villain.

Additionally I apologize for the somewhat slower pacing of this chapter, but since we had spent so much time in bone's Landing until now, I felt it necessary to spend some time world building. I promise by the time chapter eleven roles around action will be back in full swing, but if you prefer court intrigue and politics, chapter ten will contain that in spades as Celestia's plan for the Slave King is finally revealed in all its magnificent glory.

In case you're wondering what my opinions regarding Alicorn Twilight are, I'll say this. I consider Twilight's ascension alicorndom to be no different then the Slave King imbuing one of his servants with his power (albeit in Celestia unique way). She even transported Twilight to her home element, which i got a kick out of. I loved how the show portrayed Celestia in her element, and hope we get to see more in the future. And who else didn't enjoy her song? I thoroughly enjoyed the episode, and gained great inspiration from it since it melded so nicely with my own head canon.

Until than gentlereader, thank you for reading and all your kind words and support. You make writing worthwhile, until next time!

P.S. I'm looking for ideas for the next few one shots of my side story series Equestrian Tales Told by Tavernlight. If you have a story or myth you would like me to expand on, please leave a note in the comments below.

P.P.S. I made featured again! Once again gentlereader, thank you for reading.

Chapter 10: The Last Temptation of the Slave King

The Book of Water: The Marriage of the Slave King

A Story by TalonMach5

Chapter 10: The Last Temptation of the Slave King

What is the difference between a fool and somepony insane? The answer of course, is that the insane pony often times believes themselves to be quite rational. While the fool is somepony who knows better, and yet still decides to leap off the precipice anyway. So take wisdom from the insane, for their insight may prove useful, and eschew the fool, for their path often leads to ruin.

- Broken Quill the Mad, Listen to me Young Grasshopper: The Ramblings of a Madstallion

“Thank you for delivering this package so quickly,” Lady Zephyr said to the feathered folk courier handing her a scrap of parchment to sign.

“Think nothing of it, mam,” she said, accepting the signature and handing her a receipt. “The Slave King considers speed to be of paramount importance for the postal service.”

“Dawson, be a dear and carry it inside for me,” she said, paying the courier a generous tip for her speedy delivery.

Dawson approached the courier and grabbed the package she held out. Looking at her, he found her grey and yellow plumage quite alluring, and found himself blushing when she stared at him with her vivacious golden eyes. “Thank you,” he said, slightly flustered at all the attention she was giving him.

The courier, while not as cute as Melody, or as strikingly gorgeous as Dame Squall, still possessed a beauty all her own. She offered him a shy smile before looking away. “I hope to see you again sometime,” she cheerfully said, before checking a list for her next scheduled delivery.

“Dawson,” Lady Zephyr said, prodding him gently with her talons. “When you meet a lady for the first time, it’s considered rude if you fail to introduce yourself.”

Blushing slightly from his mother’s reproach, he reached out his talon in greeting. “Hello, I’m Dawson,” he said. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“I’m Erica,” she replied, taking his talon in her hand and shaking it. “Well, Dawson, I hope to see you around sometime. Thank you for choosing the Royal Mail Service for your delivery needs. Lady Zephyr, I hope you and your son enjoy your stay here in the Neo Vale.”

“You’re welcome,” she replied, as Erica took to the air and flew towards her next delivery. Turning to her son, she offering him an affectionate smile. “It looks like my little chick is all grown up, and almost ready to leave the nest and his mother behind.”

“Mother, I’ll never leave you,” he promised, hugging her tightly.

“No, it’s alright,” she said, getting slightly misty eyed at the thoughts of her son leaving her forever. “Eventually all hatchlings become adults, and take off to find their own way in the world. Dawson, at least promise me you’ll visit me often.”

“I promise, mother,” he said, looking at the package curiously. “What’s in this anyway?”

“A gift for your father,” she replied, opening the package to reveal a sturdy cloak of beautiful feathers.

Carefully examining it, he saw a few of his own feathers sewn into it as well. “It looks like some of my feathers are a part of it,” he said, pointing to the feathers he once wore.

“Yes, I used feathers from both of us in its creation,” she said, thinking fondly of the feather she loved. “I wanted him to have something of us that he could keep with him always.”

“But he always wears Darkpaw’s pelt,” he said, trying the gift on.

“He might never wear it,” she said, giving her son another hug. “But it’ll be a reminder to him, that we love him.”

When he wore the cloak on his shoulders, he felt as if he were lighter than air. Placing its cowl over his head, he was surprised to find he was now invisible. “Mother,” he said, removing the cloak, carefully folding it, and placing it back inside the thin box. “What sort of magic did you use making it?”

“It contains a piece of my essence,” she explained, examining her plumage and tail in a nearby mirror. “The idea was that when he wears it, he could return to my side as quickly as the wind.”

“Mother, that’s kind of sappy,” he teased, kissing her head to appease her anger.

“One day, Dawson, you’ll understand,” she said, motioning for him to follow her out of their shared apartment. Taking to the sky, they left the city of Neo Vale behind, as the broken dome of the Diamond Vale came into view. “One day, you’ll meet that special somefeather that sets your heart all a flutter, and you’ll never want to let them go.”

“Ugh,” he replied, thinking of all the trouble that females had given him over the last few days. “I’ve think I’ve had my fill of the opposite sex to last me a long while.”

In response to her son’s complaint, Lady Zephyr’s musical laughter rang out as they prepared to land in front of the entrance to the Slave King’s palace.

*****

Never before had the Slave King felt the need to use the word surreal to describe his life. Not even when he’d been elevated to a member of the Pantheon, did he feel that it met the definition. But these past ninety minutes more than qualified for the label, as far as he was concerned. He’d thought to appear as stern and commanding as possible, wowing his guests with his vast wealth, and the magnificence of his new capital. Instead, his nonexistent heart raced and palm sweat, as the members of the Pantheon were being presented and offering him their gifts among other things.

The first had been Celestia and her sister Luna…

*****

“Now presenting Her Royal Majesty, Princess Celestia, the Radiant, Lady of Day. May her benevolence smile upon us all!” A pony steward announced, accompanied by trumpeting fanfare.

She entered his throne room and offered him a warm smile. He returned the gesture, though with less sincerity. She was covered in a flowing gown that showed off her alluring curves and femininity. Numerous gems were woven into her flowing mane and tail, accentuating her grace and elegance. Had he not been so angry with her, over her upcoming coup de grace against him, he might have been tempted to seek out her company after tonight’s renewal. While waiting for her sister to be announced, he saw her nodding approvingly towards Ringing Bells, and knew all his suspicions were correct.

“Now presenting Her Royal Majesty, Princess Luna, the Beautiful, Lady of Night. May her wisdom guide us through the night’s dark uncertainty!” the steward said, as the fanfare played.

Silently counting the number of deities that had been invited, he frowned when he realized how many times the fanfare would end up playing. The trumpeting was already starting to annoy him, and they hadn’t even gotten to the Prime Elements yet! But when he saw her enter his throne room, her beauty removed any thoughts of the trumpeters.

Luna looked even more lovely then her sister, and gracefully sauntered forward to join at her side. When she saw the Slave King, she offered him a demure smile and batted her lids at him. The gossamer gown she wore, shimmered like the full moon and sparkled like the stars. Like her sister, her mane and tail were also woven with gems that sparkled brilliantly, and drew his attention towards her azure eyes. Looking into them, she gazed at him with a burning desire.

Approaching his throne together, they gently bowed as they presented him with their gift. Lighting up their horns, they levitated a large book of spells in front of him.

“A compendium of rare and powerful spells,” Celestia said, offering him a flirtatious smile that nearly crumbled his resolve.

“Penned by none other than Starswirl, the Bearded himself,” Luna added, licking her lips suggestively.

Walking forward, the alicorn sisters approached him, whispering into his ear.

“It pleases me that you found my other gift to be to your liking,” Celestia said. “You’re quite a handsome stallion.

“Verily,” Luna agreed, kissing his cheek lightly. “Thou art quite comely in thy gay raiment and fine livery. We hope that thou enjoyest thy gift, and look forward to joining you at tonight’s renewal.”

Hearing their words troubled him. He was so sure of their intent to harm him, yet their words spoke of affection rather than malice. “Celestia, the Radiant, thank Ringing Bells for that. That mare can be quite persuasive when she wishes,” he said, before turning to her sister. “Luna, the Beautiful, if that is your wish, I’m happy to extend an invitation to you.”

When she heard his words, Luna beamed with excitement, before leaving his side with her sister. Handing their gift to Harmony, he waited as the herald introduced his next guest.

He’d been dreading having to face Lord Triton dressed like this, but discovered that the Lawgiver was nothing but magnanimous towards him when he approached his throne. He graciously accepted his well wishes, and invited him to draw close. The Lawgiver was flanked by several of his chevaleresse that bore their liege’s gift to him. When they presented it to him, he took perverse pleasure when the otherwise chaste knights offered him lust filled stares.

Opening up the ornately decorated chest made from coral and overlaid with pearl, he found a chess board and a set of intricately carved pieces inside. “Slave King, I thought we might play a game together sometime,” Lord Triton said, offering him his fin in kinship. “If you don’t know how to play, I’ll gladly teach you.”

“I wouldn’t be opposed to the idea,” he cautiously replied, clasping the offered fin with his hand.

But before they could continue speaking, a commotion broke out among the assembled deities. Dozens of the more minor gods and goddesses scattered, when a fiery elemental composed of red flames barged past.

“Man-thing!” the burning flame shouted, interrupting their exchange.

“Lord Ouroboros, I didn’t expect to see you here tonight,” the Slave King said, genuinely surprised that he’d left behind his physical form in order to attend his celebration. “I’d advise staying clear of Lord Triton, otherwise you might get snuffed out.”

“By the Pit, man-thing!” Lord Ouroboros exclaimed, rumbling with disapproval and shifting from a light red to bright yellow flame. “What have you done to yourself? I came here expecting to find the gloating cretin that robbed me of my victory. But instead of my worthy adversary, I find only a foppish dandy playing on the Slave King’s throne.”

“Unless you’ve come bearing gifts, I must ask you to depart, Fire Tyrant,” he said. “Most of the Pantheon have come here, and you’re holding up the line.”

The Lord of Fire hovered over the Slave King’s head, and dropped a bottle of blue flames into his hands. “A bottle of balefire, to use on yourself,” he said, drawing away from his hated enemy. “My gift to you. So when next we meet, you’ll be able to end your suffering, after I leave your broken body behind.”

“I look forward to it, Lord Ouroboros, he said, offering the Fire Tyrant a toothy grin. “Hopefully next time, you’ll present more of a challenge.”

“Gloat while you can, King,” he retorted, as his flames shifted to blue in response. “But you won’t always have Celestia’s shapely flanks to hide behind, or Jormungandr's clever schemes to shield you from my teeth and claws.”

“Leave him alone!” a furious voice shouted from behind him.

The great flame, flared in anger that somescale thought to interrupt him. When he saw who it was that dared risk his ire, his flames crackled loudly. “Lady Zephyr, still chasing after Darkpaw’s proxy I see,” he seethed, as black smoke billowed out from his flaming eyes and mouth.

When she heard his insult, her blue eyes flared gold with the power of her element, as she threatened to drop her physical form. “Traitor!” she screeched at him, remembering how he’d betrayed her and the rest of the Pantheon all those centuries ago.

“Careful now, I’d hate to see you share in Darkpaw’s fate,” he taunted, while Celestia and Triton looked on in silence.

Hearing him mock her beloved’s memory, sent her into a blood rage. Reaching out, she gathered all of her elements power, in hopes of striking him down in a single blow.

“Lady Zephyr, stop!” the Slave King shouted, his voice sounding like the rending Earth. Stepping into the shadows, he reappeared between the two bickering deities. Lifting up her head, he looked into her rage filled eyes with compassion. “All the rules of the moot apply here. If you perish, what will become of your son?”

When she realized what she’d almost done, she broke down into tears as he embraced her. “Thank you,” she whispered, grateful to him for having saved her from herself.

Offering her a warm smile, he escorted her past Lord Ouroboros and to his throne. Seating himself on his throne, he looked darkly at the Fire Tyrant. “Your business here is finished,” he said, his eyes flaring with displeasure at him. “Begone.”

"Not until your celebration has concluded, Slave King,” he replied, shooting him a smug look. “You did invite me into your home after all.”

The Slave King growled, annoyed he couldn’t just expel this unruly guest from his palace. “Very well, Fire Tyrant,” he said, pointing to the exit. “But your audience here with me is finished.”

"I shall take my leave of you… For now,” he said with a hint of cruelty, before disappearing into a crack in the floor.

“You handled that masterfully, Slave King,” Celestia said, bowing her head to him in respect.

“Indeed, you showed great restraint,” Lord Triton agreed.

Lady Zephyr looked up at the Slave King in gratitude, and found herself smitten by his gallantry towards her. She could feel this new found desire for him was different from her previous attraction. What she felt for him before, was a much more primal and instinctual drive. But what she was feeling for him now, was a love more pure then she had ever felt for any other. “Dawson,” she called out. “Present the Slave King with our gift.”

He approached his father’s throne, knelt before him, and held out the small box containing his mother’s offering. Though he was unsure what he felt about the Slave King’s new look, he knew that after seeing him defend her from Lord Ouroboros, he would continue in his quest to win his father’s approval no matter what.

Taking the box from Dawson’s talons, the Slave King opened it and pulled out the magnificent cloak of feathers for all to see. Though it was magnificent to behold, he already possessed a perfectly serviceable cloak, and had no need for another. “I thank you for your thoughtful gift,” he said, wishing not to offend her.

“That cloak was made from my feathers, and possesses the essence of wind,” she said, stroking his hand gently. “Should you ever desire to be at my side, don it, and its magic will take you to wherever I am.”

Reluctantly leaving his side, she motioned for Dawson to follow after her. He gave his father one last look, before standing to his feet, and following after her to the reception area.

Spying Melody strumming away at her instrument, he stood next to her as she offered him a warm smile. “Wow, that was intense,” he whispered, still in shock at seeing his mother so angry. “I never knew she could do that.”

“Yes, that was a close call,” she answered between notes. “We’re lucky the rules of the moot apply here, otherwise the battle the Slave King just averted, could have easily killed us all.”

Looking around the throne room, he noticed something odd. Nearly all the females present, including his own mother, seemed to be focused solely on the Slave King. He wondered if he was using some hypnotic Earth magic at his disposal to create the effect. Curious why it was happening, he shared his observation with Melody. “How is the Slave King managing to do it?” he asked, pointing out what he’d noticed to her. “I’m not sensing any magic emanating from him.”

Melody blinked her eyes once, and looked around the room. When she realized what he’d been saying was correct, she nearly stopped playing mid-chord in surprise. “I’m not sure,” she said, finally realizing the full weight of the pull the Slave King had over her, even though she was now fully aware of its effects. “Dawson, we’ll have to keep an eye out for any mischief.”

*****

The Slave King and Lord Raiden had been staring at each other in silence for over an hour now. He remembered reading somewhere, that the kirins considered control of the conversation as a means of demonstrating their superior intellect. He was still a bit sore over the scathing treatise that Lord Raiden had written about him several centuries prior. The renowned sage had spent nearly a thousand pages of bellicose prose and argument, calling him nothing more than an unsophisticated petty tyrant, and whose single greatest accomplishment to date had been managing to somehow avoid imploding under the weight of his own rule. After he’d read the thinly veiled attack against him, he swore that one day he’d have his revenge.

Unlike the other members of the pantheon, Lord Raiden wore no clothing, attached no pointless ornamentation to his twisting antlers, or wore any foolish ribbons in his mane and beard. He only carried a simple saddlebag, which held his gift for the Slave King. And there was no doubt that had he had no need to carry it, he wouldn’t even had bothered bringing that. His slate colored coat was in need of a good brushing, and his wild white beard reached nearly to his knees. His silver eyes, the same color as lightning, shone with endless knowledge and possessed all the wisdom of the ages, and were currently doing battle with the Slave King’s burning emerald eyes.

Now with their battle of wills well underway, it was a contest to see who would blink first. The Slave King and Lord Raiden were both unwilling to make the first move, and there was no telling how long their silent struggle would last. The oppressive silence of the throne room was nearly suffocating, and the assembled deities watched with baited breath to see who would break first. The Lord of Autumn’s neutral face revealed nothing, while the stony visage the Slave King wore beneath his mask, offered little insight into what he was thinking.

All the while, Harmony kept staring at her timepiece impatiently, as the reception fell further and further behind schedule. Knowing it was up to her to break their stalemate, she whispered into the Slave King’s ear, “Jormungandr has just arrived.”

“What?” he said, surprised that the Winding One was finally making his appearance.

“A valiant effort, Slave King,” Lord Raiden said in measured tones, while his eyes gloated his intellectual superiority over his unworthy opponent. “Any further struggles against me this day, will be in vain. May the bitterness of your defeat at my hooves, grant you wisdom for the future.”

“It appears I was mistaken about Jormungandr’s arrival,” Harmony said, offering him an apologetic smile. “Forgive me…”

Sighing that he’d been denied his victory over that insufferable kirin, he decided to accept his ‘defeat’ gracefully. “I suppose we can’t win them all,” he said, offering his opponent his begrudging congratulations.

“That’s true enough for some,” he replied, ensuring all present knew whose intellect was greater. Using his magic, he levitated a large tome out of his saddlebag and into the Slave King lap. “Accepting that all aren’t created equal, is the first step to enlightenment. May my gift help you on the path to yours.”

The Slave King graciously accepted the book, and leafed through its pages. “I see you’ve seen fit to offer me a book of your proverbs and sayings,” he said, handing it to Harmony.

“Well not quite,” Lord Raiden replied. “I’ve taken the liberty of updating each of my nearly ten thousand proverbs and sayings especially for you. I’m sure you’ll find them useful in overcoming your numerous deficiencies.”

“Truly, your generosity and humility knows no bounds…” the Slave King sardonically replied, making a mental note to pay back the kirin’s insult tenfold.

“It’s a sage’s job to dispense his wisdom, wherever it’s needed,” he replied, before taking his seat with the others.

Seeing that Lady Minoa was next, he groaned. Knowing her, he was sure she’d be accompanied by her chorus of sycophants that chanted her every word. When he noticed she was alone, he thanked creation for small favors. Gazing upon her statuesque and resplendent body, he felt a hunger and thirst growing inside him. He suspected that his new found appetite would neither be satiated by sustenance nor quenched by drink. As she approached his throne, the bells attached to her flowing gown tinkled gently, accentuating her graceful and lithe movements. The translucent gown she wore, left little to the imagination, as her generous bosom threatened to escape the confines of her dress.

“Slave King, I have come offering you refreshment,” she said, handing him a small wooden chest, and running her eyes hungrily along his broad chest and shoulders. “Perhaps you would care to share it with me after tonight’s renewal?”

Opening her gift, he discovered a large bottle of her special reserve. Though he didn’t normally care for spirits, preferring the restorative properties of his own Draught of Renewal over anything else, he still looked forward to sampling its delicate bouquet. Even among the members of the Pantheon, wine from Lady Minoa’s vineyard was considered legendary, and was so highly sought after that a single bottle was easily worth a dragon’s hoard. “If it pleases you Lady Minoa,” he said, offering her a polite smile.

Reaching over to him, she ran a finger along his thigh. “Perhaps you might indulge me in a small contest of strength as well?” she forcefully asked, licking her lips in anticipation and using a tone implying she wouldn’t accept anything other than his assent. With the Lady of Spring so close to him, he caught her scent. She smelt strongly of spring showers, blossoming wildflowers, and fertility. Being so close to her started making his head swim, and he felt himself drawn towards her inviting lips.

Surprised by her forwardness, and his own growing hunger for what he was sure her offer entailed, he resisted his baser impulses. Leaning back against his throne, he thoughtfully stroked his gem encrusted beard. Mulling over her offer and its implications in his mind, he felt the ever present ravenous hunger demanding he accept. Deciding that her unusual behavior here might’ve been influenced by Celestia’s trickery, he nodded once. “Perhaps tomorrow, Lady Minoa,” he said, handing the oaken chest to Harmony. “Should the demands of my renewal allow it.”

She looked into his burning eyes and smiled, running her finger along his ear. “I look forward to it. Should you require some companionship after your renewal tonight, I’ll happily provide it,” she lustily replied, inhaling deeply to ensure he had a proper look at her ample breasts. Turning around, she sensually walking away, offering him a generous look at her backside. Looking at the assembled members of his court and other members of the Pantheon, he saw the males were enjoying her sensuous display, while the females all wore looks of jealousy and consternation on their faces.

By now his head was swimming, almost as if he was intoxicated by all these teasing goddesses. Struggling to overcome the hunger that threatened to run roughshod over him, he tried excising it back from whence it came. Unhappy at being ignored, Nightmare whined and batted her head against his hand expectantly. Hearing her complaints, he started stroking her head once more, placating her need for his attention.

As the hour of his renewal approached, he found that his mental fortitude was deteriorating. Had he been a weaker being, one not in possession of an iron will, he might have gladly taken up Lady Minoa’s offer right then and there. In retrospect, he was feeling rather grateful to Lord Ouroboros and Lord Raiden for their obnoxious behavior. By stoking his ire, they’d help steel his resolve against Celestia’s plot.

Once again the fanfare played, when the steward announced his next guest he inwardly groaned. The steward had just announced Lady Suzaku, the Lady of Summer. Like Lady Zephyr, she’d thought to snare his heart through deceit. Afraid of the consequences, she’d hidden from him the birth of Aria. Though he’d wanted to banish her for her trickery like Lady Zephyr before her, she always managed to somehow assuage his anger towards her. However after discovering Harmony’s birth, he’d cut off all contact with her, leaving her distraught and miserable.

Though he’d once harbored great resentment towards her for abusing his trust. Thanks to the influence of Aria, Melody, and Harmony, his heart had softened towards her over the ensuing years. Looking at her, he saw that she was still as beautiful as when he last saw her. Even from across the room, he felt emanating from her all the lust and desire she held for him. If not for the fresh memories of Little Bleu, he might have been tempted to give in, losing himself to the burning flames of her passion once more.

Approaching his throne, she knelt before him and kissed his feet. “Please love, make me yours once more,” she pleaded with him, not caring who heard her supplication. Handing him a bottle filled with a red liquid, she looked up at him lovingly with her ruby eyes. “If you can’t accept my love for you because your heart won’t allow it, drink this, and be made whole.”

“What is it?” he asked, eying the bottle’s contents suspiciously.

“A portion of the love I possess for you,” she said, hoping against hope that he would accept her offer, desiring to spare him from the pain that Lord Ananse’s ritual would inflict on him. “Inside the bottle lies half my heart. Let my heart beat for you my love, and know happiness once more.”

A part of him was sorely tempted to drink the tonic. However, the memories of the tiny foal that laid dying in his arms, whispering, “I love you, daddy,” stayed his hand. “Your gift must have come at great cost,” he whispered, full of regret that he couldn’t accept it. “I… I can’t abandon her.”

“I understand,” she wept, heartbroken that he’d rejected her once more. “I hope one day, that the both of you will finally know peace.”

“Thank you for understanding, Lady Suzaku,” he replied.

Dejectedly, she left his throne room in tears. Sympathetic to her plight, he motioned to Aria, Melody, and Harmony to go comfort their mother.

He sat on his throne, experiencing a heartache he never knew possible. Lady Suzaku, at great cost to herself, had given him the means to becoming whole, and he couldn’t use it. Not without risking losing the one he cared for most. He thought of what Snowe had told him in his waking dreams, and mourned. Knowing he was forever doomed to failure in restoring to life the one that fate had so cruelly taken from him.

“Slave King!” an angry voice shouted, breaking him from his stupor.

Looking up, he saw that it was none other than Lord Cerynitis, the Rimefrost, Lord of Winter, who considered the Slave King a worse threat than even the Unmentionable One.

Brandishing a frost covered spear above his head with his magic, the reindeer’s bloodshot eyes burned with a fury known only to those who lost everything. “You thrice damned human devil!” he cried out, stamping his hooves and freezing the ground beneath him.

The Slave King was genuinely surprised that he come to today. Given the Lord of Winter’s feelings for him, and the rejected invitation, he hadn’t expected him to show. Deciding the diversion would be a welcome distraction from his sorrow, he decided to humor him. “Lord Cerynitis, I thought you had no desire to attend my inauguration,” he said, truly curious why he had decided to come. “But I welcome you to my home, with open arms.”

Lord Cerynitis pointed his spear at all the deities present. “I never considered Lord Darkpaw my friend, but he was a worthy adversary,” he said, looking up at the grinning skull that hung above the Slave King’s throne. “Which is more than I can say for you, Slave King. Your debased wickedness turned the once strong and unified Pantheon into nothing more than a squabbling rabble. Furthermore, your corrupting influence has turned the once chaste and respectable does of the Pantheon into nothing more than wanton strumpets and harlots!”

“Lord Cerynitis!” Celestia shouted, objecting to such vile slander against herself and the others, before being silenced by a look from the Slave King.

“Lord Cerynitis, each of them have chosen of their own free will to come here today,” he said, pointing towards the spirit chains that had banished him from most of the other domains. “So what is the true reason for your coming here? To denounce me? If so, you’ve already done that. If not, state your business, and quickly be on your way.”

“You’ve robbed me!” he roared, turning the air around him decidedly colder.

“In what way have I robbed you?” the Slave King asked, giving the Lord of Winter a hard look.

Lord Cerynitis eyes darted towards Princess Luna and Lord Triton. There they were, enjoying that monster’s hospitality without a care in the world. Looking at his former comrade and battle brother sitting at the wayfarer’s side, pained his soul deeply. How he longed for his friend to join him in battle once more, together they would challenge the Slave King in a duel of honor. With their combined martial skills, they would make short work of the beast, before casting him into the Pit to keep the Unmentionable One company until the end of time.

But no matter how great the pain Lord Triton’s betrayal of their friendship was, nothing could compare to how his heart ached when he gazed on her loveliness once more. Her coat, as dark as the night, and her tail and mane that sparkled with all the brilliance of the heavens, mocked him with their beauty. Looking into her azure eyes, he saw only a desire for the beast, a desire she once held for him. When she saw him looking at her, she turned her head away from him, nearly causing him to froth at the mouth.

Shaking with barely constrained rage for the Slave King, his great anger was for robbing him of the two deer he once considered his greatest friends. Leveling a hate filled glare at him, he issued his legal claim against him. “The crystal ponies in the north, they’re squatting on my territory,” he said, wishing he had grievances beyond trespassing to level at him.

“Your deer enjoy the bounty of the frozen south,” the Slave King answered, counteracting his spurious claim.

“I demand satisfaction!” Lord Cerynitis snarled, with a heart full of contemptuous hatred for the Slave King.

“Then state your terms, and stop wasting my time,” he said, goading the Lord of Winter into the same blunder Lord Ouroboros had made all those centuries ago.

“Point of order!” shouted Lord Triton, giving both of them a furious look for their misconduct. “Gentlestallions, both of you should be ashamed of yourselves. Stop this pissing match in front of the respectful mares of the pantheon. This behavior is unseemly, and unworthy of being displayed before any, mortals or deities alike. Respect the law, each other, and settle your differences at the proper time and place.”

“Very well, Lawgiver,” Lord Cerynitis hissed, throwing the ice tipped spear at the Slave King’s feet. When it struck the floor, tendrils of ice and frost as frigid as his heart snaked out towards the Slave King’s throne.

“What’s this for?” he asked, looking down at the frost covered spear at his feet.

“My gift to you,” he snarled, as his antlers and fur became heavy with frost. “I plan on thrusting another just like it, where your black heart should be.”

Then without another word, the Lord of Winter left the way he came. “I thank you for coming, Lord Cerynitis,” the Slave King called out after him, as the reindeer stormed out of the throne room, knocking aside mortals and gods alike with his great furor.

Reflecting on their brief but icy exchange, the Slave King wondered how his anger fit into all this. It was no secret that he and Luna had once been lovers, and as far as Lord Triton was concerned, they shared a connection through their domains. What a foolish creature, he decided. If Luna wanted nothing more to do with him, there were plenty of other goddesses in the Pantheon who would jump for a chance to bed a one of the major players. And though Scourge had vexed him at times, the doomhound was a true friend. Even going as far as challenging him, when he felt he was being foolish or reckless. Throwing away something that precious over a mere female was pure folly.

I wonder if Lord Cerynitis’s attendance tonight, will throw her plans in disarray, he thought, giving Celestia a cursory glance. She was trying her best to comfort her sister, who was nearly on the verge of tears over Rimefrost’s accusation of her impropriety.

Wondering what excitement would be in store for him next, he gestured to the steward to continue announcing his guests.

*****

The rest of the evening went by without further incident, though many of the minor deities he hardly knew, had all offered him their congratulations for this auspicious occasion. As he accepted their gifts and well-wishes, he noticed a reoccurring theme that he hadn’t noticed before. Almost without exception, the ladies of the pantheon had all been flirting with him, offering him kisses and affectionate touches. While the lords had been offering him knowing smiles and innuendos that revolved around the various goddesses present. While he didn’t mind the attention so much, it bothered him that almost everyone else was in on some sort of inside joke that he wasn’t a part of.

Before, he’d been so certain that Celestia wished him ill, but now he had his doubts. With so many others being aware of the plot, pulling it off undetected would be next to impossible. And why would she bother inviting minor players to participate in her scheme. No, it must be something he missed. Some vital detail he was unaware of.

These thoughts continued plaguing him until Lord Ananse, the Soul Weaver, representing the strange and diverse deities of the Zebrakan continent, entered the throne room on his long and spindly legs.

“Slave King,” he said, clicking his mandibles together with purpose. “Your brothers and sisters across the sea thank you for your invitation most kind. It is with regret, that all but myself were able to make it, but we hope that you do not mind.”

“Thank you for honoring me with your presence,” the Slave King replied. “In truth, I’m surprised that even you were able to make it here. Such a journey must have been an arduous one.”

“All souls are known to me,” he said, looking at him with all eight of his black eyes. “From every pony, to every tree. “I am not limited to using just Jormungandr’s Way. By following the threads of fate, I consider traveling between domains to be mere child’s play.”

Ananse handed the Slave King a large silk tapestry. Examining it, he saw that it told the story of his reign. From his beginnings as a lowly slave, to his ascension as the Slave King. Looking it over carefully, he noticed that it was incomplete. “Lord Ananse,” he said, curious why a large portion of the tapestry was left blank. “It appears that you’ve left your gift half done.”

The Soul Weaver leaned his great yellow and black striped carapace forward, looking the Slave King in eye, and held the tapestry aloft with his mandibles. “Slave King,” he said, each of his eyes focusing squarely on him. “Past and present are here to see. But none may know their true destiny. Your future choices for good and ill will here be shown. But once you’ve reaped what you have sown, only then will your fate finally be known.”

He didn’t know quite what to make of Ananse’s explanation. Perhaps the tapestry would faithfully record his reign, as he made important choices. But of course, there was the more sinister possibility behind the meaning to his words. Not long after becoming the Lord of Earth, he’d stumbled on some gold plates chronicling the history of Lord Darkpaw. Though he’d not given it any thought in centuries, he vaguely remembered an entry prophesying his predecessors end. Though it was entirely in rhyme, he originally thought it’d been an attempt by one the diamond dog priests to ingratiate themselves to their new master before he’d initiated the purge.

Although he couldn’t quite remember the prophecy in full, the parts of the rhyme he could remember were eerily similar to Ananse’s way of speaking. When he’d first heard the claim that the Soul Weaver controlled the destinies of everything under creation, he originally brushed it aside as nonsense. He’d felt the very idea that everything was predetermined by a giant spider spinning in his web was a load of hogwash. He could accept the reality of beings controlling the physical universe, but controlling the future seemed an utter impossibility. But considering that Celestia was plotting against him, should that rumor prove true, and if he could somehow discover the secrets to the tapestry, he might discover how best to neutralize the threat before the danger was realized.

Though he didn’t know whether or not the tapestry would reveal the future to him, he decided it would at least look nice in his personal quarters. “Lord Ananse,” he said, offering him a warm smile. “I thank you for such a thoughtful gift, it’s greatly appreciated.”

Ananse said nothing, instead, slightly bowed his bulk to his host before climbing up a nearby wall and perching from the ceiling to watch how the rest of the Slave King’s audience would unfold.

The Slave King looked at Harmony who’d just returned from comforting her mother. “Are we almost done with receiving my guests?” he whispered to her, longing to slake his thirst at the banquet that was scheduled next.

She read the guest list in her hands, looking to see if anyfeather had been skipped. “Slave King,” she answered, whispering into his ear. “All have come except Jormungandr, Strix, Lugh, and Loki.”

When he heard that the ones he’d hoped would arrive had failed to show, he sighed in disappointment. He’d thought that of anyone he might ask, that the Winding One would be able to offer him the best advice regarding his suspicions. And baring that, his closest compatriots might at least know where he could look to find him. He knew that Celestia wouldn’t make her move until after he’d performed the renewal, otherwise she risked a reoccurrence of what had happened nearly five hundred years previously. Looking at the serenely smiling goddess, he wondered how she was planning to execute her attack.

“Should we proceed to the banquet?” Harmony asked, interrupting his thoughts.

Nodding once, he saw Celestia looking directly at him. She was whispering something into her sister’s ear, causing Luna to blush as she desperately looked away from him. Once the steward had announced that the banquet was to be held, he turned towards Ringing Bells. “I think the clothes you’ve made for me were a rousing success,” he said, looking down at the mare sitting behind his throne.

“Oh you’re too kind, your majesty,” she said, tittering slightly from the compliments he paid her. Her purple eyes gazed thoughtfully at him, leaning in closely she whispered, “Your majesty, have you noticed something peculiar about everypony here? The mares especially.”

Taken aback by her question, he gave the unicorn a curious look. “What do you mean?” he asked, surprised that she was possibly revealing vital information to him.

“Every mare in attendance is falling all over themselves, trying to catch your attention,” she said, shaking her impeccably styled mane once. “I mean I’m good, but not that good. Have you been running a glamour spell to drive all the mares wild with desire? If you desire to court one of the princesses, a stallion such as yourself needn’t resort to such trickery.”

“That would be considered improper,” he replied, finding her accusation ironic, given the situation. “Besides, I lack the power to effect the sun in any meaningful way, and my domain is subservient to the moon.”

“So, your majesty,” she said, offering him an inquisitive look. “Did you wish for a wardrobe change before the banquet begins?”

“No, Ringing Bells, I think I shall continue to wear your clothing for a bit longer at least,” he said, offering Nightmare a scowl. She was eying the mare hungrily, and her posture suggested that she was getting ready to pounce on the unicorn. “Nightmare, behave yourself, or you can spend the remainder of the week outside the palace.”

Once she heard her master’s reprimand, she obediently joined him at his side. Walking pass her, she gave the fashionista a sideways glance. Her eyes seemed to say, The Slave King belongs to me, try stealing him away from me and I’ll end you!

Oblivious to her threat, Ringing Bells walked cheerfully besides the Slave King as they walked to the banquet hall.

*****

It was cold. Oh, was it cold, and he hated it. He hated everything about it, the way it made the sweat beneath his armor freeze, the way it sapped the heat away from the pads of his paws, and how it made breathing more difficult. He longed to return to the oppressive heat of the badlands, at least there you could escape the sun’s rays by retreating into the comfort of your den. But here, the cold permeated everything. There was no escape, and anyhound unlucky enough to live here was doomed to shiver for eternity. He gave their mode of transportation a dour look. Nidhogg was supposed to take them directly to the station outside the city, instead, he’d gotten some damn fool idea to go prospecting for crystals in the middle of thrice cursed Winter.

He was nearly tempted to travel the remainder of the journey to their destination by paw, but realized he’d still be stuck waiting for the land wurm because the Slave King expected him to return with this month’s shipment of crystals. When he thought of his liege’s laughter at his expense, his face contorted into rage. How dare he use me for cheap labor! You’ll suffer for this Slave King, he darkly thought, plotting his revenge as the biting wind clawed at him, sapping away his body heat.

The shivering of his underling, who was also suffering from the biting cold, interrupted his plotting. Casting a dismissive sneer at him for daring to make his discomfort known, he revealed his sharp teeth threateningly at him for showing even the slightest hint of weakness.

“Master Second!” Sombra shouted, his voice barely heard over the howling wind blowing across the desolate tundra. “We must seek shelter soon, or we’ll perish.”

“Shut up, Sombra!” Second growled, annoyed by both the cold and his subordinate’s whining. “We’re staying by Nidhogg, until he’s found the crystals he’s looking for.”

Sombra stamped his hoof in frustration, as he shivered involuntarily from the cold. Ruling over the crystal ponies or not, he was already beginning to regret ever agreeing to coming here. If the so called crystal dominion was anything like the rest of this barren landscape, the only thing it offered anypony was frostbite. He’d imagined that when he ruled over the crystal ponies, they’d scrape and bow before him, hoping to placate his wrathful disposition. Each pony, from the youngest foal to the eldest mare and stallion, would sing his praise, serve his every whim, and outright worship his magnificence, as he lorded over them with an iron hoof.

Instead, he was stranded in the middle of nowhere, freezing to death within spitting distance of Winter. And because of his master’s impatience, he couldn’t even change into something more suitable for the weather, having left his luggage behind in the Neo Vale. Returning his master’s wrathful gaze with a dour look of his own, he stomped his hooves against the frozen ground impatiently.

“Master Second, every minute we waste delaying here, invites ruin,” he plead, trying to persuade him to do something, anything, so he could escape this blasted cold.

Knowing that his true master, would visit his displeasure upon them if he failed to ensure the next phase went according to plan, he did the only thing he could think of. Walking towards Nidhogg, the doomhound slammed his metal bulk against the soft underside of the land wurm, knocking most of him aside.

In response, the ground beneath them trembled as Nidhogg poked his head out of the frozen tundra, looked down and glowered at his two impatient passengers. “What was that for, Second?” he asked, gently massaging his bruised underbelly.

“For wasting my time!” he roared, narrowing his burning eyes in contempt. “Here we are nearly frozen to death, and you’re stuffing your craw with crystals.”

“Fine, fine. It would be a real shame if that happened,” he contemptuously muttered, while rolling his eyes in response. Lowering himself to the frozen earth, he waited as they climbed onto the wide saddle attached to his back. “Next stop, the Crystal Domain!”

“It’s about damn time,” Second said, securing himself in the saddle.

Nidhogg said nothing, instead lurched forward, and took them into the warm depths of the earth. Second sighed, as the heat seeped into his chilled bones. While waiting for them to arrive at their destination, he felt a great pain deep in the recesses of his mind. He batted a paw at his muzzle, and shook his head in an attempt to escape the ever increasing pain tormenting him. His mind felt as if it was both burning and freezing, while his bones itched and ached. His body overwhelmed with suffering, went rigid, then slumped forward into his restraints.

A great darkness covered over him. It was so thick and oppressive, that he felt it might suffocate him at any moment. Straining his ears to listen for any clues to his whereabouts, he heard nothing. Inhaling deeply through his nose, he caught the overwhelming aroma of sulfur and smoke. Walking blindly into the darkness, he felt the cracked and uneven ground beneath his paws give way to smooth warm stone. The inky blackness of his surroundings had lightened somewhat, now instead of pitch black nothing, he saw that he was surrounded by a hazy mist consisting of nearly the same color and thickness of congealed blood.

Wading even deeper through the mist, he found himself inside the broken remnants of a ruined library, which seemingly lay long forgotten. Numerous shelves, each reaching higher than could be seen by the naked eye, stretched out in every direction, forming a labyrinth of sorts. The remains of innumerable books, either burned by fire, eaten by decay, or crumbling into dust, rested on the shelves. The few tomes he passed that were in useable condition, either screamed in agony or seeped blood from their pages when he opened them in an attempt to read their worn and faded texts. Whatever was written on the pages, he found illegible and alien, an indecipherable script that tempted his mind to enter the realm of madness should he make further attempts to understand it.

Second, I welcome you to the Library of Ith, he heard his master’s disembodied voice say, as it echoed through the rotting shelves and ruined books of the library.

Looking up, he saw his master’s cruel eyes leering down at him malevolently. Knowing where he was now, he shook with terror as the fear of his dread master threatened to rob him of his sanity. The ruins shook, as his master’s oppressive laughter rocked the foundations of this unholy place, threatening to make it crumble under its own weight.

Tell me why you’ve left the Slave King’s palace on the very eve of his inauguration, his master’s voice said, hinting at the great displeasure that was lurking beneath the surface of his seemingly placid voice.

“I had no choice, he ordered me to go,” Second said, hoping to avoid his master’s chastisement.

The plan is at a critical juncture, his master’s voice growled, while his eyes burned with hate. Should the Slave King somehow manage to wriggle free of my snare, I will be most displeased.

“What must I do?” Second asked, withering beneath his master’s gaze.

Ensure Nightmare is otherwise occupied during the Slave King’s confrontation with Celestia, his master’s voice commanded. You must be there before the renewal occurs, that’s when she will approach the Slave King’s servants. When she approaches you, make sure Scourge agrees to assist in her scheme.

“What about the Well of Eternity, it still beats inside,” Second pointed out.

I’ve already made arrangements for its removal from the equation, his master’s voice said, tainted with a hint of malicious laughter. “Now go, Second, go and perform my will.”

Before he could respond, the library erupted into a fiery inferno. All around him scorching flames licked at his coat while the swirling black smoke from the blaze burned his eyes and filled his lungs, blinding and choking him. Before he was consumed by the fire, he saw his master’s monstrous form take shape in the flames. He saw him pointing a finger at him, and watched in horror as a pillar of flame leapt out at him.

Second’s eyes shot open, as his body lurched forward in his restraints. Looking up, he saw to his relief he was no longer in the burning Library of Ith, about to be consumed by his master’s flames. Looking down at his paws and inspecting his coat, he was relieved to find his coat unsinged and his body free of any burns. Releasing himself from his restraints, he climbed off Nidhogg and waited for Sombra to join him.

Looking around him, he saw the crystalline architecture of the spacious city. Though not as utilitarian as the Neo Vale, the crystal ponies’ city still retained many of the same elements. Wide streets, flanked by large buildings, each made from gigantic crystals that jutted out from the ground. The streets spread out like the spokes of a wheel, with all roads leading towards the crystal palace that lay in city’s center. The crystal palace, the resting place of the Slave King’s stone throne here, was the symbolic seat of the Domain of Earth’s government among the crystal ponies. It was said, when the Slave King first gave them this land and appointed a mare to rule them in his stead, he touched the barren frozen tundra with his finger at that precise spot. When he did so, spring burst forth and eternally chased winter away.

Of course, Second didn’t care one whit for their history with the Slave King. His only concern was installing Sombra as the Slave King’s new overseer, picking up this month’s shipment of crystals that were due, and returning with all haste to the Slave King’s palace.

“Excuse me…” an elderly light blue crystal pony said, before being silenced by a glare from Second’s burning eyes.

“What is it!” he snapped, causing the unfortunate pony to fall onto his aged and wrinkled haunches in fear. Looking down at the old stallion, Second walked forward until he was towering over him. “Where is the forepony in charge of the Slave King’s crystal extraction?”

The aged stallion looked up at the doomhound with his faded purple eyes, and slowly got up on his hooves, all the while shaking in fear at the rough treatment he was unjustly receiving. “My apologies,” he nervously stammered, causing his grey mane to become frazzled. “We weren’t expecting to ship anything until after this week’s holiday.”

“There’s been a change of plans,” Second said, looking at the towering crystal palace that loomed in the distance. “Get me the forepony immediately.”

“That would be me, sir,” the pony replied, offering him a weak smile. “I’m Forepony Quartzite, but you can call me Quartzie, all my friends do.”

“Forepony Quartzite,” Second said, not even bothering to look at him. “You are to have this land wurm loaded with this month’s shipment within the hour.”

“But it’s a holiday!” he objected, unsure how he was going to get the shipment packed and loaded on the land wurm in the specified time frame.

“Tell me about it!” Nidhogg said, giving Second a sour look.

“Spare me your excuses, pony,” Second replied with a low growl. Turning towards the forepony, he let his burning eyes bore into his skull. “Either you, or your replacement will do as I’ve commanded.”

“Ye... yes, sir,” Quartzite said, trying his hardest to keep his composure.

“Sombra,” Second ordered, looking over his shoulder at his subordinate before heading towards the crystal palace. “Follow me.”

Sombra said nothing, instead walked slightly behind his master, happy that he was nearly free from his tyranny.

As soon as they were both out of earshot, Quartzite turned to Nidhogg. “What a bunch of sourpusses,” he said, dreading all the upcoming work ahead of him.

Nidhogg giving him a sympathetic smile. “No kidding,” he said, offering the forepony a ride on his saddle. “So where to first?”

“To the nearest taverns, to pick up my ponies before they’ve drunk themselves stupid on crystal berry wine,” he said, pointing his hoof towards a large tavern down the road.

“Lead on, grandpa,” Nidhogg said with a wry grin.

*****

He sat at the head of the great stone table, flanked on all sides by his enemies, one time allies, and onlookers who were otherwise too weak to play in the great game of the gods. Before him, was a veritable banquet of succulent delights that was fit for the most discerning palate. Decadent delicacies from all the domains were available, all one had to do if they wished to sample an otherwise rare dish, was to ask one of the many attendants who were serving the Slave King’s guests, and it would be shortly presented to them. This table would’ve been a glutton’s paradise, but he had no desire to partake in the feasting.

Once he might have gorged himself on such a banquet, but now such things were beyond him. In truth, the pale green iridescent liquid found in his goblet was the only sustenance he needed. He looked on at his guests as they enjoyed the bounty of his table, and drank silently from his cup. As he drained the draught from his goblet, he saw her looking at him. Her lavender eyes locked onto his, she offered him a polite smile before whispering something into her sister’s ear. He noticed her younger sibling’s cheeks redden as she smiled shyly towards him, before hiding her muzzle beneath her mane that sparkled like the stars.

Picking up her wine goblet with her magic, she nodded her head to him as if offering him a toast, and then drained her cup. It was at that moment, that he knew, that she knew, that he knew. He could feel the pressure of her invisible noose tightening around his neck, and felt the cold fear of uncertainty piercing his iron resolve. He wondered what she ultimately had planned for him, and from which shadow the assassins blade would come. Reaching out with his power, he felt the magical pulse of everyone who was here in attendance. From the greatest deity, to the lowliest slave, he could feel them all. Stretching out even further, he included his search to include the ruins outside his palace walls. But beyond the hateful cold rage of the undying hungry dead, he could detect nothing.

Before he could withdraw his magic back into himself, he saw the lust filled gazes of every goddesses at the table staring at him while the males all wore looks of incredulity, disgust, and even a few smirks. Realizing he’d just committed a faux pas against almost the entirety of the pantheon, he quickly reclaimed his power and stood up to excuse himself from the table. Motioning for Harmony and Melody to come to his side, he fidgeted in his clothing as he felt its silken softness constricting him.

“What is it, Slave King?” Harmony asked, looking at him with concern and wondering what new disaster was about to unfold.

“I fear I might have just inadvertently molested the entire pantheon,” he replied, shaking his head at his clumsiness.

“What do you mean, king daddy?” Melody asked, confused how he might have done such a thing from his seat.

“I used my power to seek out anyone who shouldn’t have been here,” he explained, trying his best to ignore the feminine magic’s that were being brazenly sent his way. “In my haste to discover the interloper, I intermingled my magic with everyone in the palace.”

“Oh, that’s why I felt all tingly a few moments ago. That was kind of fun, do it again!” Melody said, still unsure why it was such a big deal.

Harmony placed a hand against her brow and shook her head in disbelief at her sister’s ignorance. “Melody, when deities mingle their power together, it’s considered a prelude to an intimate encounter,” she said, massaging her temples as she silently cursed herself for having crawled out of bed.

“Well, were you wanting too?” she asked the Slave King, with a mischievous grin. “I know mother wouldn’t say no to warming your bed once more.”

“Melody!” Harmony snapped, scolding her sibling for her teasing. “The Slave King just performed the equivalent of copping a feel on every member of the pantheon, and you’re making jokes about it.”

The Slave King felt it best to extricate himself from the banquet, and moved towards the closest side passage. Following closely behind him, Melody and Harmony continued their bickering, as he tried figuring out the best way to save face in this situation.

“Harmony, what do you suggest we do?” he asked, hoping she had a strategy hidden away somewhere.

“I don’t know, Slave King,” she replied, tapping her finger worriedly against her beak. “By rights, the entire pantheon now has just cause to seek grievances against you.”

“This could become a rather dangerous century…” he murmured, as several female deities and one of the minor males whispered rather suggestive offers in his ear with their magic.

“It’s a shame you’re sober,” Melody replied. “If you were drunk, everyfeather would understand.”

“That’s a good idea,” Harmony said, leaning up against a nearby wall.

“What? I should get drunk, and let everyone laugh at me for falling down, before they bring their complaints against me at the next moot?” the Slave King sardonically asked.

“No, I meant if everyfeather else was drunk, they might be a tad more libertine,” she said. “But how can we guarantee everyfeather imbibes?”

“Oh, I know somefeather who might be convinced to help us!” Melody excitedly said, while gazing plaintively at the Slave King. “And her help should come relatively cheap.”

The moment he heard her say there would be a small price, he already knew what help she was referring to, and who would be so generously offering it. He already knew what the price would be. “Who is it?” the Slave King asked, dreading the answer that would confirm his suspicions.

“Lady Suzaku of course!” she replied, to Harmony’s disapproval and the Slave King’s consternation.

“I’m not sure that’s wise…” Harmony said, remembering how distraught their mother had been over the Slave King’s earlier spurning of her affection.

“If we explain the situation to her, I’m sure mother would be happy to help. Especially if you make the request personally, king daddy,” Melody said, fluttering her eyes at him, in hopes of winning him over.

“It appears I have no choice…” he sighed, not looking forward to having to ask for her aid. “Harmony, gather together as much wine as you can. Melody, I want you to start playing some lively drinking songs, then when everyone’s good and sloshed, play something a bit friskier.”

“At once, Slave King,” they said in unison, before attending to their assigned tasks.

Tapping into his power, he prepared himself to search for her. Of everyone present, she was one of the few that hadn’t lustily sought him out. His eyes, now attuned to the spirit realm, could see her clearly. Her essence glowed like a roaring furnace, though usually her divinity danced playfully around her, tonight it was subdued and weak. Reaching out towards her, he felt her sorrow and wished there was someone else he could ask for assistance. But there wasn’t anyone else, so he wrapped his power around hers.

"Hello, Lady Suzaku,” he said, trying to keep himself neutral in this encounter.

“Hello, love,” she whispered, giving him a forlorn look of despair. “What did you want with me?”

“I’ve run into a bit of a mess,” he said, looking into her ruby eyes. “Melody thinks you might be able to assist me.”

“Yes, I felt you earlier,” she replied, giving him a look that was equal parts desire and hurt. “Love, if you needed someone to take the edge off before your renewal, why didn’t you come to me? I would’ve happily relieved you.”

“It wasn’t because of that!” he snapped, alarmed that she thought he would so vulgarly debase himself in public.

“I know, love,” she replied, kissing him lightly. “But you’re so adorable when you’re flustered.”

Though there was no doubt she held genuine affection for him, the flighty Lady of Summer could be so infuriating. Remembering that he needed her assistance, he decided to ask for her help. “Melody thought you might aid us in enchanting some wine that might lower everyone’s inhibitions and raise their libidos.”

When she heard the plan, she clapped her wings together in delight. “Oh, ho, ho, my love,” she cooed, lightly rubbing a feather against his cheek. “Provide the wine, and I’ll ensure that even chaste Triton will willingly lay with vivacious Minoa.”

“Lady Suzaku, thank you,” he said, relieved that she was willing to aid him.

“Not so fast, love,” she said, embracing him tightly. Looking into his burning green eyes, she offered him a seductive smile. “I believe it’s said that the Earth is generous.”

“What do you seek in exchange?” he asked, fully prepared to grant her carnal desires.

Looking up at her one time lover, her heart yearned to be reunited with him once more. Even though Lord Ananse had promised to fulfill her desire if she went through with the ritual, she decided then and there that if he granted her this one request, she would not pursue it and instead try winning his heart the traditional way. “Give me your heart for one night love,” she said, praying that he would agree. “And accept mine without reservation, and I’ll aid you no matter the cost.”

When he heard her request, he sighed. There was no way he could meet her conditions. “I’m sorry, Lady Suzaku,” he said. “There’s no way I can do what you ask. If you desire one night or many, I can grant that. But I can’t promise you my heart for a moment let alone a single night.”

When she heard his refusal, she pressed her head against him and wept. “You poor, poor, man,” she said. Holding his face between her wings, she offered him a gentle kiss. “Love, I’ll aid you regardless.”

“Thank you,” he said, returning to his physical form. “Come to me, and I’ll show you the wine.”

Once he left her, she lowered her head in shame at what she was planning to do. Shedding a few tears for what she would do to him, she hid her aching heart, and followed after him into the palace.

*****

“This is an outrage!” a middle aged crystal pony mare shouted. Her yellow crystalline coat shimmered beneath the lights of the Crystal Palace, as she stood defiantly against these rude invaders. Resting on her pink piled up mane, was an arcanum tiara much like the one she wore as a cutie mark on her flanks. Her blue eyes looked at the two interlopers standing before the Slave King’s throne with contempt. “The Slave King would never install a unicorn over us!”

“You’d better get used to it, queenie,” Sombra said, giving her a venomous look. “I rule here now!”

Second slammed a large paw against his subordinate’s muzzle, and looked at him darkly. “You rule here now, do you?” he asked, giving him a look that suggested eminent bodily harm would be forthcoming if he didn’t retract his claim of sovereignty.

Sombra’s charcoal coat lightened by a few shades as he realized his mistake. “Forgive me, Master Second, I misspoke,” he stammered, looking nervously at his master’s large metal shod paw. “I only meant that I rule here on the Slave King’s behalf.”

“You can’t do this!” the mare shouted at them, agitated that a vile unicorn was going to rule over them. “I, Queen Topaz III, was personally hoof picked by the Slave King himself, to oversee his Crystal Palace, and our pact with him still stands.”

“I’ve been marked by the Slave King,” Sombra said, pointing a hoof to the mark that denoted his authority over the crystal ponies. “Grovel before me, mud pony, and I might spare flogging you before ejecting you from the palace.”

“Never, you unicorn bastard!” Topaz defiantly shouted, preparing to draw on the power of her crystal coat if combat was to ensue.

Seeing the two of them about to trade blows, raised Second’s ire. He was nearly tempted to perform a repeat performance of what had happened back in the tunnel leading into the Neo Vale. But as much as he wanted to throttle his subordinate, and devour this useless mare, the Slave King would surely ensure he was punished for his misconduct. Deciding he needed to ensure that Topaz would obey Sombra and not become an element of dissent, he decided to apply pressure to alleviate her of her troublesome obstinance.

“Topaz III…” he growled at her.

“That’s Queen Topaz III, you cur,” she replied, upset that he thought he could unseat her.

Glaring at her with one of his burning eyes, he poured his malevolence into her soul. “Former Queen Topaz III,” he said, allowing the loss of her title to sink in as he stripped her of authority. “You will step down from the Slave King’s throne. You will willingly obey your successor in all things. You will ensure a smooth transition occurs between your administration and Sombra’s.”

“Second, we’ll never willingly serve any unicorn,” she said, spitting at the ground at Sombra’s hooves.

Sombra was about to smack the mare with his hoof, but saw the black fires beginning to erupt out of Second’s armor and backed away towards a corner, cowering in fear at his master’s fury.

“That’s Master Second to you, Former Queen Topaz III,” he flatly said, knocking off the tiara she was wore with a swipe from his paw, and sending it clattering to the crystalline floor. Raising his paw, he slammed it down hard against tiara, smashing it and sending various gems flying everywhere. “If you refuse to obey these commands, you will be snuffed out.”

Topaz had faced a great many terrible things during her thirty-three year reign as queen of the crystal ponies. Belligerent reindeer, rampaging yeti, snow devils, wild windigos, and even on occasion she’d had to deal with Lord Cerynitis himself. But now, standing beneath the withering gaze of the doomhound before her, she felt her confidence in the Slave King’s absolute protection wane. Always, he’d promised her people, should they honor their pact with him, they’d be protected from all harm and enjoy the bounty of spring in the heart of Winter.

Remembering the promises he’d made to her people, she took heart and stood up to this bully, this false servant of the Slave King. “I don’t care if you kill me, I’m unafraid of death!” she cried out, drawing upon the power that lay at the center of the Crystal Palace, making her crystalline coat shine even brighter.

“Who said anything about dying, Topaz,” Second said, smiling and offering her a generous view of the razor sharp teeth that lay inside his large maw. Hoping to impress upon her the folly of refusing him again, he ran one of his arcanum covered claws under her chin. “If you refuse me again, your life will be long, and your torment exquisite under my tender ministrations.”

When she heard his threat, her crystalline coat lost its luster, and her gorgeous mane became limp and faded. Lowering her head dejectedly, she slowly walked away from the throne she’d occupied for over three decades, and released a single tear that fell silently to the crystal tile beneath her hooves.

Pleased that he’d finally broken the uncooperative mare, he turned his attention to Sombra. “Remember well what I’ve just shown you,” he said, flashing him a wicked smile. “Shadow Knight Sombra, allow this to be your final lesson from me. The key to proper governance, is ruling with a rod of iron, and having sharp teeth. If they fear your bite, they will respect your power and authority. However, if you show leniency in the slightest for their defiance, your reign will be a short one.”

“Yes, Master Second, I’ll remember your teachings,” he said, looking at the trembling mare with a spiteful gaze.

“Good, should you be unable to manage things here, King Sombra,” he said, as the black flames once again erupted from beneath his armor. “I will relieve you of your post and your head. Expect our mutual acquaintance to be by later to drop off your luggage, and to keep an eye on you.”

“Of course, Master Second,” Sombra disingenuously said, bowing low and wishing the doomhound would leave so he could finally enjoy his new subjects, free of any outside interference.

“One last piece of advice, King Sombra,” he growled, before leaving the crystal palace. Looking over his shoulder at the new king of the crystal ponies, he glared at him, allowing his burning eyes to fill him with terror. “Betray us, and we’ll know it.”

Without another word, the doomhound left the new king and former queen alone in the empty throne room. Sombra, finally free of Second’s cruelty, looked down at the broken mare beside him. Running his lecherous eyes along her flanks, he saw she was quite beautiful for a non-unicorn. Licking his lips with anticipation, he walked towards a nearby balcony, and gazed at the city, his city. He could see the worthless peasants milling about the streets below in idle frivolity, celebrating the Slave King’s renewal.

Looking to the north, he saw the mines were devoid of laborers, and narrowed his eyes in disapproval. He was expected to triple their output, and his projects always came through on time and under budget. Looking once more to the simple peons and their worthless families, he laughed. He knew exactly where to get the needed labor, for his crystal mining and the other great projects he had planned for his Crystal Empire.

As he stood there gloating, silently planning how he would run things more efficiently than his predecessor had, he heard a noise behind him. Turning around, he saw Topaz trying to pick up the pieces of her crown. Trotting over to her, he levitated the pieces out of her reach with his magic. “What do you think you’re doing?” he sneered, while towering over her.

“I… I just wanted to retrieve my tiara,” she said, looking up at him pleadingly with her tear filled eyes.

“Don’t you mean my tiara,” he said, circling her and appraising her shapely flanks.

“I’ll just go,” she said, feeling fear from his lecherous gaze.

“I think not,” Sombra said, remembering what Second had told him before leaving. “Topaz, you defied me, didn’t you?”

“N… no, “she said, worried what he might do to her.

“You’ve been a bad pony, and you need to be punished don’t you?” he said, powering his horn and casting painful bolts of magic at her.

“Please stop!” she begged, backing away from her tormentor and trembling in a corner, much like he had earlier.

“Admit to your crimes, and accept your punishment!” he ordered, with malevolent glee. “And the pain will stop.”

“Alright, Sombra, I was a bad pony and deserve to be punished, may I go now?” she asked, afraid of what he might do to her next.

“That’s King Sombra, peasant, remember that!” he roared. Using his magic, he created a whip construct and flicked it inches from her nose and eyes.

“Please, no more!” she cried.

“Topaz, you’re lucky I desire you undamaged. And now for your punishment…” he said, pointing downward.

When she realized what he wanted her to do, she shook her head no. Wishing to have no part in his perverse depravity. “I’m a mare of refinement! I won’t do something so unseemly,” she said, looking for a door she could escape from.

Enraged that she was refusing to service her king, he slapped her with muzzle with his hoof. Then using his magic to grab her by the neck, he forced her head roughly to the floor. “Better get used to this, Topaz, because you’ll be experiencing this regularly,” he taunted, as he prepared to take his liberties with her body against her will.

“No!” she wept, as his laughter rang throughout the throne room.

“Yes!” he cried out in triumph, when nopony came to her aid.

Once he had finished with her, he released his magic’s hold, and lowered his face in front of hers. Looking into her once defiant blue eyes, he reveled when all he saw reflected in them was a look of hopelessness and defeat. “Please…” she whimpered, wishing to be let go.

“I think I’ll keep you around, queenie,” he said with a laugh, to her horror. “That is until I’ve tired of you, and after I’ve found your replacement, I’ll send you out into the mines. How does that sound?”

Crying in despair, she left the throne room in defeat, as Sombra’s triumphant laughter mocked her.

*****

It looked like Harmony’s and Melody’s plan was working. Thanks to the wine and ale that Lady Suzaku had imbued with her divinity, nearly every member of the pantheon was eagerly singing and dancing, lost in divine inebriation, his transgression seemingly forgotten in their riotous revelry. Needing to keep his wits about him, the Slave King had so far refused to join in with their drinking.

Harmony was doing her best to keep everyone’s goblets full, while her sister was playing drinking songs and encouraging the drunken deities to sing along.

“Come on everyfeather!” she shouted to the crowd. “Sing along if you know the words, and if you don’t, sing along anyway!”

“Hooray!” they all cried out.

Plucking her lute, she began playing an old and well-known drinking song, as she invited everyone to join in.

The deities of the pantheon, happily drunk courtesy of the Slave King’s liquor, raise their goblets and begin singing off key.

Everyone: Ale, lager, beer, tiddly ale, lager, beer…

Melody: A long time ago, way back in ancient history…

All ponies had to drink was nothing but cups of tea…

Harmony: But then came a pony by the name of ole Raindrops…

And he invented a wonderful drink and made it out of hops…

Everyone: Hey! He must have been a genius, a sorcerer, or a king…

And to his praises we shall always sing…

Look what he has done for us, he’s filled us up with cheer!

Celestia bless ole Raindrops, the pony who invented beer….

Ale, lager, beer, tiddly ale, lager, beer…

Lord Triton: The Lady of the Sea…

Princess Luna: The Rusted Bit…

Lady Zephyr: The Broken Nest as well…

Lord Triton: One thing you can be sure of, its Raindrops beer they sell…

Princess Luna: So for all you mares and stallions, at eleven O’clock they stop…

Lady Zephyr: For five short seconds, remember ole Raindrops!

In reverence for the long deceased Raindrops, all present placed a hoof, paw, wing, or claw over their mugs, and began counting…

Lord Triton: One!

Princess Luna: Two!

Lady Zephyr: Three!

Lord Ouroboros: Four!

Lady Minoa: Five!

Everyone: Hey! He must have been a genius, a sorcerer, or a king…

And to his praises we shall always sing…

Look what he has done for us, he’s filled us up with cheer!

Celestia bless ole Raindrops, the pony who invented beer….

Ale, lager, beer, tiddly ale, lager, beer…

Lord Ouroboros: A barrel of malt, a bushel of hops, you stir it around with a stick…

Lady Minoa: The kind of lubrication to make your innards tick…

Lord Raiden: Forty pints of hooch a day will keep away the quacks…

Lord Ananse: Eight bits total will provide you quite a kick…

Lady Suzaku: Spend half those bits again and wake up on your back!

Once again, all present placed a hoof, paw, wing, or claw over their mugs, and count aloud in Raindrops honor…

Lord Ouroboros: One!

Lady Minoa: Two!

Lord Raiden: Three!

Lord Ananse: Four!

Lady Suzaku: Five!

Everyone: Hey! He must have been a genius, a sorcerer, or a king…

And to his praises we shall always sing…

Look what he has done for us, he’s filled us up with cheer!

Celestia bless ole Raindrops, the pony who invented beer….

Ale, lager, beer, tiddly ale, lager, beer…

Ale, lager, beer, tiddly ale, lager, beer…

Celestia bless ole Raindrops!

Sensing that everyone was good and muddled, the Slave King decided it was time to move things along. Nodding to Harmony, he waited as she directed everyone to the large ballroom that had been setup. Originally according to the itinerary, there was supposed to be a dance after the banquet, but judging by how they’d been drinking his wine, he’d be surprised if any of them would be able to dance in time to the music.

“That was certainly quite entertaining your majesty,” Ringing Bells said to him.

“I thought a little social lubrication was in order,” he said, gesturing towards a rather red nosed and drunken Lord Cerynitis who was trying and failing to kiss Princess Luna. “Especially after what happened during my reception.”

“I never knew that it was possible that members of the pantheon could become drunk,” she said, looking at a rather tipsy looking Luna who was regaling a sober and bemused Celestia with some off key singing.

“It takes a rather special brew, to knock us off our rockers,” he said, motioning to Nightmare who was fast asleep beside a half empty jar of wine. “But it can be done.”

“Will you be changing?” she asked, trotting beside him.

“I think I’ll wear these clothes for the rest of the evening,” he said, sitting down in the ballroom.

“Of course, your majesty,” she said, looking sadly at the empty ballroom. “I’m sorry, you’ve no one to dance with.’

“I’m not,” he replied, as a waltz played. “I can’t dance to save my life.”

“Might I show you how to dance then?” she asked, looking up at him thoughtfully with her purple eyes.

Deciding it would be a waste to say no to any beautiful woman who asked him to dance, he agreed to her request and held out his arm for her. As the music played, he walked alongside his dance partner as she led him through the proper steps of the waltz.

“See, that’s how it’s done,” she said, encouraging him as she instructed his movements. “Dancing is rather easy, once you have the general idea.”

Once the orchestra had finished their first set, he followed her back to his waiting seat, only to find Celestia and Luna waiting there for him.

Celestia, the Radiant and Luna, the Beautiful,” he said, approaching them cautiously. “I hope you’ve found my hospitality to your liking.”

“Verily, Slave King, we hic… most enjoyed thy bounteous generosity,” Luna said, with heavily flushed cheeks and breath that smelled heavily of the sweet wine she’d been drinking like water.

“Slave King, what my sister means, is that we’re both having a lovely time,” Celestia said, offering him an enigmatic smile.

“Indeed, Slave King! Thy comeliness has been doubled,” Luna slurred, when she started seeing the Slave King in stereo.

“Ringing Bells,” Celestia said to the fashionista. “Would you please watch my sister for me?”

“Of… of course your majesty,” she said with a bow. “Follow me, Princess Luna, and I’ll find you a nice seat.”

Happily inebriated, Luna followed after her, leaving the Slave King and Celestia alone together. Stepping close to him, she leaned forward, and motioned her head towards the empty dance floor. “Aren’t you going to invite me to share this dance with you?” she asked, nuzzling his shoulder. “You know it’s rude to keep a lady waiting.”

“If that’s your desire, Celestia, the Radiant,” he said, offering her his arm.

Together they stepped out onto the ballroom floor, their steps perfectly in sync with one another. Locking eyes, they circled each other in time with the rhythm of the orchestra’s string and percussion. Fighting a silent battle of wills for dominance, the two deities led each other through the steps of the waltz. Though their knowledge of the other’s plans were as plain as the noses on their faces, they still resisted one against the other. The unassailable power of the Sun against the fathomless depths of the Earth, one the source of life, the other a bastion of shadow. Neither giving an inch, yet working together in perfect harmony, they completed their dance, and left the floor together.

“Slave King, that was rather exhilarating,” Celestia said, having enjoyed their dance together.

In truth, he found the struggle against her exciting as well. The battle for dominance, and not knowing whether he would emerge victorious or not, had heightened all his senses to perfect clarity. In dancing with her, he’d gained a new found respect for her as his opponent, and insight into what she was planning for him.

Smiling pleasantly at her, the Slave King invited her to sit down beside him. “So tell me Celestia, the Radiant,” he plainly said, folding his hands in his lap. “When you and your sister return to Londwhinium, what do you have planned?”

“Oh you know, the usual,” she said, offering him a friendly smile and refusing to reveal her hoof to him. “But the most pressing matter will be assigning a cadre of my sister’s Twilight Knights to bolster the garrison at Bone’s Landing, and choosing the garrison commander of course.”

“Of course,” he echoed, trying to determine how best to trip her up, forcing her to finally reveal her plot to him.

“I see you’ve caught the eye of almost everypony here,” she said, tweaking him with her divinity like he had done to her earlier that evening. Seeing his look of uncertainty, she released a musical laugh. “I’ll admit I found your advances earlier rather flattering.”

“My apologies, Celestia, the Radiant,” he replied, as his face began flushing with embarrassment. “Sometimes this close to my renewal, my power becomes quite overwhelming.”

“It’s because you lack a horn,” she said, sympathizing with him.

“Yes, my lack of horn, antlers, or other magical organs, makes dealing with a surplus of magical power a challenge to deal with. Fortunately, these seem to do the trick,” he explained, pointing to his burning green eyes.

“Perhaps taking a wife or consort would help you deal with any future magical flare ups,” she suggested, gesturing to the drunken deities still cavorting in the banquet hall.

“Excuse me?” he asked, surprised she was broaching such a sensitive subject. “Why, are you volunteering for the position again?”

She offered him a gentle chuckle, and warmly smiled. “Slave King, the rest of the pantheon are beginning to talk. It’s unheard of for deity, especially for one as powerful and influential as yourself, to refuse to take consorts or a wife,” she said. “In the first age of ponies, when we were as young as you are, it wasn’t unheard of for a deity to take a partner or three.”

“What’s your point?” he asked, feeling uncomfortable discussing this topic with her.

“My point is simply, if you desire somepony to share your life with, there are many among the pantheon who would be willing to share it with you,” she said, nuzzling him affectionately. “There’s no need to resign yourself to bachelorhood.”

“I’ll take your advice under consideration,” he said, offering her a small bottle of his Draught of Renewal.

“What’s this for?” she asked, looking at its contents curiously.

“For your sister,” he said, “she wished to accompany me for my renewal. I’m afraid in her current state she’s in no condition to do anything more than sleep.”

“Thank you, Slave King,” she said, accepting his gift. “I’ll see that she drinks it.”

“Very well, Celestia, the Radiant,” he said, rising to leave. “Until tomorrow then.”

Trotting over to where her sister was sitting, she watched as Ringing Bells followed after him. Only to nearly jump out of her skin, when she felt Luna licking her ear. “Luna!” she said, objecting to the wet willy. “Behave yourself!”

“Sister, we find thy ear’s flavor to be somewhat lacking,” she giggled.

“Drink this, Luna,” she said, levitating the small bottle to her sister.

“Oh, it’s so shiny and pretty,” she sighed, when she saw its shimmering liquid contents.

“Oh, Luna…” Celestia said, wondering what she would do with her.

*****

The ride back to the Neo Vale had been uneventful, Nidhogg’s terrible joke’s notwithstanding. If he had to suffer through another one of his knock-knock jokes it would be too soon.

“Orange who…” Second sighed, placing his muzzle in his paws and praying that this torture would end.

“Orange you glad I didn’t say banana?” Nidhogg asked, laughing at his own corny joke. “Oh look, we’re here in the old city!”

“Thank Celestia,” he muttered, grateful that he was finally free of this buffoon.

Shifting his shiny black scales towards the ruined palace that lay in the distance, he looked back at his passenger with concern. “Are you sure you don’t want a ride to the palace?” he asked him.

“No!” he snapped, leaping off the land wurm’s back and onto the broken streets below. “Just drop off this month’s shipment of crystals in the manufactorium. Ignatius or one of the other dragon-halfs will take care of the rest.”

“Are you sure I can’t have just one small crate?” Nidhogg pleaded, looking hungrily at the dozen or so crates of cut crystals attached to his saddle.

“I already said no the first thirty times! What makes you think I’m going to say yes this time?” he barked, wishing the land wurm would go jump in the Pit to save him the trouble of killing him later.

“Well I’m taking one anyway,” he said, flicking his tongue out at him.

“Do it, and it’s your hide!” he roared, causing his voice to echo throughout the ruins and attracting the unliving denizens inside.

When he saw the approaching hungry dead, Nidhogg gave Second a smug smile. “And there’s my cue to go, enjoy the rest of your evening, Second,” he said with a laugh, before diving into the ground, leaving the doomhound with nearly a hundred shambling corpses to deal with.

On any other night, he would have torn this section of the city apart in his great rage. In fact, he would’ve shown these creatures what a real monster could do, tearing them limb from limb and then putting them back together, so he could murder them once more. However, he was on a tight schedule, and couldn’t waste time playing with the hungry dead.

Feeling his master’s burning displeasure, he released a mighty roar that shook the entire lava dome. Gripping the stone beneath with his claws, His eyes burned red as his fur and armor caught fire. The black flames quickly spread over his entire body, eating away at everything they touched like acid. Not even the shambling hordes baring his way stood a chance, as he barreled through them, knocking them aside like pins as he raced towards his destination.

Within minutes, he was past the wards protecting the palace from the undead horrors of this place. Looking behind him, he smiled with approval at the swath of destruction he’d left behind in his wake. Allowing the black flames consuming his body to die, he entered the palace and stood stock still in shock at what he saw. He’d stumbled on what he could only describe as the tail end of a drunken orgy. He saw numerous gods and goddesses lying next to each other in a drunken stupor, the evidence of their drunken revelry lying at the bottoms of their goblets.

Seeking out Scourge, he wanted to find out what exactly had transpired here since he’d left. When he saw Nightmare curled next to a wine jar, he backed away slowly, not wanting to discover what other horrors this room held for him. Stepping gingerly past a sleeping Lord Cerynitis who was passed out next to the unconscious elemental form of Lord Ouroboros, whose flames were bathing the reindeer’s frost covered coat and making fog. Spying the closest side passage, he made his way towards the exit.

“Where have you been?” he heard a gravelly voice ask.

Turning around, he found himself looking into Scourge’s displeased muzzle. “Has the Slave King began his renewal yet?” he asked, concerned he’d missed his chance to follow his master’s instructions.

“No, that’s not due for another hour,” Scourge replied, glaring at him disapprovingly. “But where have you been, the Slave King faces a peril greater than any he’s faced before.”

“What’s that?” he asked, concerned that his master’s plot had finally been unearthed, despite the careful pains he’d taken over the centuries to conceal his treacherous activities.

“It’s Celestia,” Scourge confided, knowing that his fellow doomhound would never betray their king to aid the head of the pantheon. “She’s finally decided to make her move against him.”

“But what possible reason would she have to plot against him,” Second said, trying to cloud Scourge’s mind with doubt. “Celestia would never resort to using force, when she could use diplomacy instead.”

“That’s true,” Scourge said, conceding his point. “Celestia’s plotting has been rather overt for an assassination attempt.”

“Assassination, please,” he said, scoffing at the sheer ridiculousness of her using violence as a means to any end. “The most we need to worry about, is that she’s politicking, which is something we can easily counteract. All we need to do is play along with her little game, and let her think that we’ve become her unwitting pawns.”

“While that might ordinarily be wise,” they heard a feminine voice say from behind them. “Speaking about your plans for deceiving me in the open is usually a recipe for disaster.”

Turning around, they saw Princess Celestia towering over them, wearing a neutral expression on her muzzle. “I see you heard us?” Second said, trying to determine how much she overheard.

“I heard enough,” she replied, offering the two doomhounds an indecipherable look. “But I think that the question is now, where do we go from here?”

“Do you expect us to allow you to harm our master?” Scourge growled at her.

“No, I expect you to protect him,” she answered. “Sometimes the greatest protection a servant can offer those they serve, is protection from themselves.”

“Explain your meaning,” Second said, curious by what she meant.

“The Slave King will soon have to make a choice,” she replied. “If he chooses poorly, he’ll most likely not survive.”

“Tell me who your assassin is, Celestia, or I swear by the Pit, you’ll join him in the Summerlands,” Scourge fiercely growled, fearful for his master’s safety.

“I swear by the moot, Scourge, his undoing will be by his own hoof and none other,” she said, hoping to convince him of the truth of her words.

“How can we believe you?” Second said, hoping to goad Scourge into siding with her against him.

“Second, her word is good enough for me,” Scourge said. “Unlike you, Celestia has no need to lie.”

When she heard his response, she breathed a sigh of relief. She’d been concerned that they might have dismissed her warning out of hoof. “Because you believe me, I’ll tell you what’ll happen,” she said. Leaning down, she placed her muzzle against his ear and began whispering to him. As he heard her explain to him the dangers the Slave King faced, his knitted his brow in concern for his master.

“Second, we must aid her,” he said to his fellow doomhound.

“What, and betray the Slave King on just her say so?” he asked, cheering inwardly that things had gone by without a hitch. “Are you planning to take responsibility for this?”

“Yes I am,” Scourge replied, fully prepared to face the consequences for betraying his friend and lord. “Celestia, promise me that no harm will come to him by this.”

“Scourge, you are a good and faithful friend to the Slave King,” she said, touched by his devotion to his master. “I promise to shield him from all harm if need be.”

“So what do I need to do then,” he asked her.

“I need you to hide the Vendetta from him for at least a little while,” she said. “And when he calls for your aid, I need you to ignore him.”

“You wish to leave him defenseless and alone?” Second demanded, laying on his accusations as thick as he dared.

“You will assist me in this, Second,” Scourge threatened, “or so help me, I’ll advise the Slave King of every minor transgression, every suspicion, and every plot I’ve ever uncovered of yours.”

“Very well, Scourge,” he sulked, selling his reluctance as best he could. “I’ll assist you in your treason, but if this goes south, you’re sinking on your own.”

“Now that just leaves the small matter of Nightmare to deal with,” Scourge said, trying to figure out how to keep her otherwise occupied.

“Leave Nightmare to me,” Second said. “I’ll see to it that she’s out of the Slave King’s reach.”

“Why should we trust you with such an important responsibility?” Scourge said, confronting him over his less than trustworthy reputation.

“Because, as a fellow conspirator,” he explained, offering him a toothy grin. “I’m just as culpable, just as guilty as either of you. Besides, I don’t do anything half-cocked.”

“How much time do we have?” he asked Celestia.

“He’ll be presented with his choice tomorrow at noon,” she said, giving each of them a serious look. “Please, if his well-being matters to you at all, fulfill your tasks.”

“So how fond are you of your sister?” Second asked, giving her a toothy grin.

“What do you mean? Oh…” Celestia said, finally realizing what he was suggesting and giving him a look of disapproval. “My sister is more than capable of defending herself, but are you sure that’s really quite necessary?”

“Even when drunk?” he replied, gesturing to the passed out deities in the banquet hall. “It’s either her or the unicorn seamstress, and the unicorn doesn’t seem quite as robust.”

“No, choose my sister,” she sighed, hoping that the liquid the Slave King had given her had done its job.

“One last thing, Celestia,” he said, with a slight grin. “Where is she now?”

“I believe she’s headed towards the Slave King’s quarters,” she replied, hoping that the Slave King would break things up before they became too violent.

“Perfect,” Second said, laughing at how easy things were coming together. “Scourge, see to the Vendetta’s misappropriation, I’ll be attending to Lady Nightmare’s wake up call.”

“Very well,” Scourge said, lowering his head in shame that he was going to betray the Slave King. But taking heart in the knowledge that this would ultimately save him from himself, he looked up at Celestia with gratitude. “Thank you for aiding my master.”

“Long ago, he ensured peace and prosperity for my little ponies,” she said, offering him a kindly smile. “Helping him in this way is the least I can do.”

Second rolled his eyes at their naivety. Both of them were aiding in his master’s plot, and the best part was they weren’t even aware of it! Approaching where Nightmare was sleeping, he tried determining the best way of waking her, when he heard something behind him.

Turning around, he saw Lady Minoa and a tightly embraced Lord Triton lying together. “Oh, Slave King, I have you now…” she cooed in her drunken stupor, while nuzzling against his mane, and holding him tightly in her arms.

“Ugh,” Second replied, not envying Lord Triton when he finally woke up in the paws of his bitterest rival.

Spying Nightmare’s tail, he grabbed a hold of it with his teeth, and dragged her out from beneath the table. Looking at her prone and stretched out form, he took the opportunity to examine her in detail. Though she wasn’t quite a diamond dog, he found her dark and fearsome features quite beautiful and exotic. Taking liberties with her drunken self that he’d never have the courage to do otherwise, he ran a paw along her pitch black coat feeling her curves and hard muscles. Licking her muzzle, he got a thrill out of doing the forbidden with such a dangerous being.

If she was ever to become aware of his wandering paws and lecherous eyes, he’d surely become her next victim. Looking down at her flanks, he was sorely tempted to take her, if only for the bragging rights of having mounted the most dangerous female in Equestria. However, time was of the essence, and he needed to wake her before Luna managed to enter the Slave King’s quarters. Raising a paw, he slapped Nightmare a few times to wake her, but found she remained fast asleep. Sighing that he had no other recourse, he grabbed the Slave King’s half full goblet, and poured its contents down her throat.

Almost immediately, Nightmare began responding as the draught did its job. Second watched as her legs began kicking, and her tail swished suggestively, hinting she was in the throes of some dream. Knowing he needed to make his next move very carefully, he gently prodded her with his paw.

*****

She was having such a wonderful dream, he was here by her side, and running his fingers through her silken black coat. She purred in pleasure, as she felt the pressure from his fingers run along her body. Laying besides him in the bed, she rested her head in his lap, and sighed in pure bliss. But then she felt him starting to poke her in the side, looking up at him in concern, she heard him repeating, “Wake up!”

Nightmare groggily opened her eyes, as she felt the lingering aftereffects of the wine still coursing through her body. Though her throbbing head bothered her slightly, it was the burning ache she felt elsewhere that agitated her more. Yawning once, she tried focusing her eyes, searching for the one who had signed their own death warrant by waking her from such a wonderful dream.

“Lady Nightmare,” the rumbling voice said, causing her ears slight discomfort.

Now almost cognizant, she focused her eyes on the blurry image of the doomhound standing over her. She growled in rage, disappointed that she had no one to visit her frustrations upon. Of the doomhounds under her master’s employ, one was already dead, and the others were nearly as powerful as herself, making any attempt at slaying them a pointless endeavor.

“Wake up!” the doomhound’s voice shouted, making her wince in pain. She didn’t understand, why was he being so bold with her? Didn’t he fear her biting jaws and raking claws, didn’t he know she was the most terrifying thing in existence this side of the Pit?

“Why have you left the Slave King’s side?” she groggily heard him ask. What a foolish notion, she was right here besides him, resting in his bed and laying her head in his lap. Wait! She wasn’t resting in any bed, and this wasn’t the Slave King’s quarters. Looking frantically around for him, all she saw were foreign deities lying all around her in piles.

Though her mind still felt a bit scattered, her duty to him screamed at her to get up. Standing up on her legs, she shook her head uneasily, and gave the doomhound a potent glare that seemed to say, Where’s the Slave King?

“His personal quarters,” was his response, shaking herself awake she began skulking towards the shadows, hoping to return to his side before anything untoward might happen to him.

Second was extremely pleased, Nightmare was performing her part just like he planned. Reaching out with his magic, he used the gems embedded in the palace walls to check up on Princess Luna’s location. When he saw she was nearly at the Slave King’s chamber door, he cursed. “Damn it! She’ll never make it there in time,” he said, before coming up with a solution to his problem. Knowing Nightmare needed encouragement, he called out to her. “It appears that Princess Luna is about to pay him a personal visit!”

He laughed, when he was rewarded with Nightmare’s roars of jealousy, as she raced to return to the Slave King’s side. Pleased that everything was now in place, he laid down on his haunches and decided to enjoy the show. Spying a few goddesses sprawled out in a corner, he approached them and decided to take advantage of the little pleasures that life sometimes offers.

*****

Princess Luna felt mortified, her earlier behavior was certainly not becoming of someone of her stature. That nearly everypony else in attendance had also regressed to behavior not seen since the first age of ponies, was no excuse either. She was just grateful that her sister had the presence of mind, to avoid joining in the revelry the others had, and managed to save her from any ensuing embarrassment tomorrow.

Come now, Luna, the ever present voice whispered in her mind, tempting her with visions of all kinds of debauchery. Rutting every now and then, would be practice for the Slave King, eh?

Be silent! she snapped at the voice, mortified that her body was inclined to agree with the voice’s assessment. Such shameful behavior is for godlings and weak willed foals.

Ah, like the Slave King perhaps? the voice suggested, chuckling as it illustrating in her mind how he might take her. He’s young and virile, I’m sure the pleasure you’ll share together shall be exquisite.

We have no desire for such a perverse relationship, she adamantly denied. Should we decide to pursue each other, our courtship will be one of propriety and moderation.

Propriety and moderation, surely you jest? the voice mocked, showing her even more illicit and improper images. Is that why you seek him out in the dark of the night, when your power is greatest and he’s at his the most vulnerable to your ample charms?

Nay, our visit is one of friendship, and not of wanton lust, she replied, objecting to the voice’s crass accusation of her virtue. We wish to apologize for our earlier inebriation, and to accept his earlier invitation to enjoin him at his renewal.

You know, the many rendezvous between Lady Zephyr and Lord Darkpaw during his renewals are the stuff of legend, the voice pointed out, granting her a vision of the passionate activities they once shared together. Perhaps you wish to reenact their love with him?

Thou vile and base miscreant! she seethed at the taunting voice, while feeling frustrated at her own arousal at the many temptations it was offering her. We only desire companionship and camaraderie, not thy rude and animalistic passions.

The voice darkly chuckled in response. Dear sweet, Princess Luna. You claim to be a mare of propriety, yet it’s from your own mind these visions have come. You claim you only desire camaraderie, yet the yearning in your heart and ache in your loins say otherwise, it pointed out, denying her rebuttals.

We… we dost not possess the heart of a wanton harlot! she shouted, laying her ears back as she cried, afraid that the voice was speaking true. We just want to be loved, is that so wrong?

The voice said nothing, leaving her to stew in the uncertainty of her forbidden desires. Sighing in defeat, she tried her best to ignore the still lingering effects of the wine on her libido, and approached the doors to the Slave King’s private chambers. Taking a deep breath, she used her hoof to lightly rap on his chamber door.

*****

He waited patiently as Ringing Bells, removed hundreds of tiny gemstones and unwove the gold and arcanum threads from his hair and beard. If he didn’t know better, he’d have sworn it was taking longer to remove the intricate weave then it had originally taken to style. His two servants, Gunhilde and Chrysalis were assisting the fashionista in the delicate process of removing them. He could tell by the looks they gave him, that whatever charm he was under was affecting them as well.

Chrysalis especially, her half lidded gaze and exposed flanks spoke volumes. Fortunately, a sharp look from Gunhilde reigned the lusty changeling in. Gazing longingly at the iron crown that rested on a pedestal near his bed, he couldn’t wait to put this gaily dressed popinjay behind him, and return to the business of running his domain, free from the feminine whiles of half the pantheon and Celestia’s machinations.

“All done, you majesty,” Ringing Bells announced in a sing song voice.

She levitated a mirror for him to inspect her hoofwork. He looked at his reflection, and saw his broken nose and deeply scarred face looking back at him. Beyond his now neatly trimmed beard and locks, he looked like himself once more. “I wonder, if they could see my face now, would they be so eager to pursue me?” he mused, while they removed the remainder of his clothing. Dressing into his simpler clothes, he found he missed the feeling of the soft fabric of his finery against his skin.

Sensing his want, Ringing Bells looked up at him. “Your majesty, if you desire more clothing. I’d be happy to make it,” she said, offering him her skills once more.

“I’d expect nothing flashy,” he replied, considering her offer while reaching for his shirt.

“Of course…” she said, before she was interrupted by someone knocking on his door.

Deciding it must be Scourge, he walked towards it and opened the door, finding to his surprise, none other than Princess Luna on the other side. “Uh…” he said, not sure why she’d sought him out.

When she saw the Slave King had answered the door nearly bereft of clothing, she became acutely aware of the burning desire in her hind quarters, and blushed as her tail flicked nervously. “Slave King…” she said, nearly stumbling over her words. “We wish… ack!”

Before she could say another word, a great black ball of fury leapt on her back from the shadows. When she felt the bite of the creature’s cruel fangs and sharp claws raking against her, she screamed as they drew blood. The Slave King, when he saw who it was that had attacked her, gathered his power and prepared to unleash a flurry of blows against her assailant. The brands on his shoulders, and his eyes burned with green ethereal energy, as he launched a single blow against the beast.

With a cry of pain, the shadow flew down the length of the hall, slamming into a nearby mural depicting Lord Darkpaw, cracking it, and fell to the ground with a heavy thud. Before it could recover to begin another assault on her, the Slave King entered the shadows, reappearing in front of the creature who’d so foolishly attacked his guest.

“Nightmare!” he roared, shaking the palace with his fury. “What the hades were you thinking? Attacking a deity, let alone Luna of all gods!”

Weakened from her master’s blow, she laid her ears back in a plaintive gesture, begging for her master’s forgiveness. She was going to attack you! her eyes seemed to plead. She and her pony bitch sister, are up to no good!

“Nightmare,” he warned, pointing a finger at her. “You’re being banished to the city for the rest of the week. When you return, we’ll discuss your punishment then.”

But… her eyes said, desperately trying to convince him the mare was up to no good.

The Slave King was in no mood to listen to her excuses. This time she had gone too far. If he hadn’t been present, she might have seriously injured Princess Luna. Which by the rules of the moot, might have been grounds for the loss of his divinity. And he had no intentions in following in his predecessors footsteps. “Leave now, Nightmare,” he flatly said, his eyes smoldering with displeasure. “Before I make your banishment permanent.”

She looked up at her master heartbroken, giving him one last sorrowful look before disappearing into a nearby shadow.

Walking to Princess Luna’s side, he ran his hands over her, examining the extent of her wounds. Shocked by his forwardness, she moved away. “Slave King, we…” she began, before he offered her slight frown.

“My apologies, Luna, the Beautiful,” he said, running his fingers through her coat, and seeking the worst of her wounds. “I promise you, Nightmare will be punished harshly for her crimes against you.”

“Nay, we desire no further recompense against thy servant,” she said, blushing as his hands continued their search. “Merely provide us with thy healing waters, and we shall consider thy debt towards us in this matter repaid.”

“Hmm…” he said, stroking his beard thoughtfully. “The time of my renewal is nearly upon me, I can offer you some of my Draught of Renewal straight from the source.”

“Nothing would please us more, Slave King,” she replied, offering him a gentle smile.

“Allow me to show you the way,” he said, offering her his hand.

Reaching out with her magic, she felt his gripping hers as they entered the realm of shadow, a place they ruled in common. Traveling together along the ley lines of the Earth, their journey became a playful race to see who could reach their destination first. Their divinity swirled and mingled together, as each strived to outstrip the other in their impromptu contest. She felt him playfully shoving her to jockey for position, in response she tickled him with her power, causing him to burst out in laughter.

Emerging from the ley line first, she stomped her hooves against the ground in triumph, as she stopped to gaze at the beauty of this place.

They were inside the heart of Darkpaw’s temple, a large and ancient room that was cut from living stone. All along the walls, cracked and broken friezes made up of gems depicting the previous Lord of Earth, Darkpaw, could be seen. The broken and shattered tiles beneath her hooves, made walking here without tripping along the uneven floor tricky. In the middle of the room, she saw a bubbling fountain flowing with water containing the same iridescence as the Slave King’s magic. All around its base and along the fountain’s stone walls, thick and leafy vines covered with fragrant blossoms crawled. While floating above the green waters below, a large crystal pulsed in time with the Earth’s heartbeat.

“Slave King, we bested thee,” she crowed, wearing a triumphant smile.

“That’s only because you were playing dirty,” he protested, offering her a wry grin.

“We dost not remember thee proffering any rules,” she smugly said, offering him a smirk. “We rememberth hearing thee speaketh, by thine own lips, that only a fool agrees to play by another's rules.”

“I suppose to the victor goes the spoils,” he replied, preparing himself to perform his yearly renewal.

“We ask thee then, Slave King, what hast we won by vanquishing thee in yonder contest of speed?” she asked, leaning in closer and inhaling the aromatic scent of the vine’s flowers.

He smelled her heady perfume and the still lingering sweetness of the wine on her breath, and shuddered when he realized what a bad idea bringing her here was. Though different than the attraction he shared with Lady Zephyr, Princess Luna possessed a magnetism that found difficult to ignore. He could feel her pulling at his divinity, and felt some compulsion to join with her.

Resigning himself to his fate, he decided to answer her. “Luna, the Beautiful,” he said, suspecting what she might claim as her prize. “Feel free to take whatsoever you desire. After all, the Earth is generous.”

“We think that we shalt hold for now,” she said, biting her lower lip and staring at him expectantly with her large blue eyes.

Sensing the time of his renewal was nearly upon him, he turned towards her. “At Bone’s Landing, you shared with me majesty of the creation of your night sky,” he said, stepping into the fountain and reaching towards the cool smooth surface of the slowly rotating crystal. Standing in the middle of the fountain, he sighed as its healing waters cascaded over him, rejuvenated and replenished him mind and body. “I hope you find my renewal to be as wondrous as I found your rising moon.”

Placing his hand against one of the gem’s facets, he felt his divinity becoming one with the Earth’s infinite depths. Slipping into the welcoming pulse of the Earth, he released his divinity to replenish and restore it once more. Welcoming the embrace of each environment and clime, like long lost children, he held them, blessing each with fertility and plenty. To some, he granted rich and fertile soil, guaranteed to provide bounteous harvests. To others, he bequeathed the riches and wealth of the Earth, renewing and creating rich veins of gems and precious metals for any to find.

It was in this place, that he was perfectly in tune with creation, and felt its call to participate and accept his birthright. Though he was sorely tempted, a bright light laying beyond his domain’s reach, stayed his hand. With great reluctance, he withdrew from the pulse of creation, calling back his divinity into his physical form. It was with a sense of loss and longing to rejoin the Earth that he returned to the physical realm, and turned to face her.

“So, Luna, the Beautiful, was I as comely as you hoped?” he asked her, while rivulets of water rained down on him, soaking his beard and hair.

Saying nothing, she looked at him. She found him to be a conundrum, how could such a stallion as he exist? Somepony like him, who had one hoof firmly rooted in cruelty, and the other seeped in a quiet sorrow. Yet when he faced her now, bereft of his crown and cloak, she saw the stallion beneath the mask. She could sense that he possessed a similar hunger to be loved, and knew the ache of a need left unfulfilled as intimately as she did.

Looking into his magic fueled eyes, she stepped forward, and joined him beneath the cascading waters of the fountain. She sighed as her earlier wounds closed, and all her exhaustion and uncertainty washed away. With a soaking coat and wet mane, she looked at him and smiled.

The Slave King felt himself quicken as she drew close. “Wha… what do you think you’re doing?” he asked, feeling equal parts fear and desire at her forward behavior.

Smiling predatorily at him, she moved her muzzle close to him. “We are taking what we desire,” she dreamily said. Then drawing him close with her magic, she closed her eyes and pressed her lips to his.

Taken by surprise by her initiative, the Slave King struggled against her at first, but as the passion she held, flowed from her to him, he surrendered himself to her. While sharing this intimate moment together, he felt a fire rising inside him that threatened to consume them. As her divinity mingled with his, he was brought back to that day all those many years ago. Back when they’d restored Sir Stouthorn together, he’d felt the same silken darkness calling to him with its siren song. Before, he didn’t know what it meant, but now he knew, and he only needed make his desires known, and the Night would envelop him. Once more, he remembered cradling her in his arms, and regretfully drew his divinity back into himself.

Breaking their kiss, she leaned forward and rested her head against his. “Our comely stallion, we hope that thou dost not object,” she said, drawing away from him.

“I see your wounds have all healed,” he said, stepping out of the fountain.

Confused by his refusal to acknowledge the moment of passion they’d just shared, she reached out to him with her magic, hoping to entice him to share another. “Slave King, we knowest thou must be overwhelmed by thy renewal,” she said, nuzzling his shoulder gently. “Mayhaps thou might find respite from thy overflowing magic in the company of another. We offer ourself to thee, it thou desireth relief.”

“Thank you, Luna, the Beautiful, but no,” he said, trying to hide his flushed face from her. “Excuse me but I’ve grown weary and must rest.”

Before she could say another word, he retreated into the shadows, leaving her alone in the darkness. Feeling cheapened, used, and unfulfilled by his spurning, she released a cry of anguish and despair as the mocking voice’s laughter echoed in her mind.

Author's Note

The drinking song featured in this chapter is adapted from the game The Bard's Tale, here's a link if you care to hear it in full Beer Beer Beer Song.

Thank you gentlereader for reading chapter ten of The Book of Water: The Marriage of the Slave King, as always comments are appreciated. My apologies for missing last week's deadline, but I was cruelly struck down by the plague and was unable to write for nearly a week. Additionally, like the previous chapter this one kept ballooning in size. I'd had hoped to end the chapter on the Slave King and Celestia's confrontation, however I think I left things on at a good stopping point. I'd like top thank you for slogging through things with me. I promise once this arc is complete, the stories second arc will enjoy the adventure that some of you have been clamoring for. I'm certainly glad I made the decision to break up the chapters when I did. Imagine having to read nearly 37k words of poorly written romance.

As for this chapter I hope the romance that's been building up between Princess Luna and the Slave King has been adequate. I'd hate to have written so much and end up having to scrap the project, because the romance angle turned out to be a travesty. I know I always say comments are appreciated, but in this instance any critiques you could offer regarding the romantic bits would be extremely helpful. Being male and devoid of contact with the fairer sex, I can only hope that I wrote the female perspective believably.

Regarding the non romantic portions of the story, I had a real fun time writing Second and Sombra. Sombra finally freed of his master, was finally able to visit the cruel treatment he'd been suffering under to others. I'm going to enjoy writing Sombra's comeuppance in the second arc. I know I might have crossed a line regarding his treatment of poor Topaz, but I wanted to show him as the irredeemable villain he is, despite the abusive relationship he shared with Second. With him running the Crystal Empire, I wonder how the crystal ponies will fare.

With the pantheon in its entirety present, we can see allies and enemies making their play against the Slave King. I find it interesting that those he considered his rivals being friendly, while others have made their challenges clear. I wonder how the Slave King plans to deal with all these new players? Does he possess the tenacity to overcome the odds, and come out on top, or is he destined to fail?

With Second's master now taking a more proactive role, I wonder how things will turn out between the Slave King and Celestia. Will Scourge's betrayal allow Celestia to win? And what will the Slave King do when he learns the truth? Poor Nightmare, she only wished to protect her master, but instead got banished. I'll bet the Slave King will come to regret making that decision. I wonder what Lady Suzaku's planning for the Slave King, and why is it making her feel so guilty? And what's Lord Ananse's role in all this.

With the removal of the Vendetta, the Slave King's ultimate trump card has been removed from the equation, how can he possibly win? And Lord Cerynitis, why so serious? Don't you know all that stress isn't good for you? And I wonder what choice the Slave King must face, it seems with such high stakes, the deck is certainly stacked against him.

All these questions gentlereader and more, will be answered in the next exciting chapter of The Book of Water: The Marriage of the Slave King.

Once again gentlereader, thank you for reading and all your kind words and support. You make writing worthwhile. Until next time!

P.S. Gentlereader Woorali, has decided to write a story set in the Great Slave King universe. Entitled Penned Down, it's planned to be a detective story in the noir style. I'm looking forward to reading all about it as soon as it's released, and I hope you do too.

P.P.S. Made it featured again!

Chapter 11: For Whom the Bell Tolls: Part I: The Morning After

The Book of Water: The Marriage of the Slave King

A Story by TalonMach5

Chapter 11: For Whom the Bell Tolls: Part I: The Morning After

Friend, have you ever heard the parable of the greedy victor? I heard it spoken once from a wayfarer I met in the south. He recounted something he’d seen with his own eyes. Nearly a century after the Slave King first sat upon his great stone throne, and took up his iron crown, a unicorn named Noble Justice sought to free all the ponies held in bondage by the Lord of Earth.

It was a long and bloody struggle, between Noble Justice’s liberators and the Slave King’s monstrous army and doomhounds. It was said that even the mighty Scourge himself, struggled in vain against the unicorn’s skill and bravery. Their final battle lasted a night and a day, inside the Slave King’s own palace. Until finally, the Lord of Earth looked down at the mortals warring inside his home. He had until that moment, been content to allow the battle to rage at the foot of his throne, while he remained quiet and unmoving.

But then, for some unknown reason he stood up. “Enough!” he shouted, his voice shaking the earth down to its very core. Everypony present, looked up at him with awe and fear in their eyes. Rising from his throne, he looked down at his diamond dog defenders and the ponies who’d invaded his domain. Wading through the carnage of battle, he approached where the battle had been at its thickest. Standing before Noble Justice, he looked down at the unicorn who glared at him with fiery defiant eyes. Saying nothing, the Slave King held out his palms in defeat, before returning to his throne. For he realized that for all his wealth and power, he couldn’t resist such a determined foe.

Noble Justice stared in disbelief when the Slave King returned to his throne in defeat. He hadn’t anticipated his enemy surrendering so quickly. Emboldened by the Slave King’s lack of resolve, he shook his hoof angrily at him, denouncing his wicked cruelty and the excesses of his reign for nearly an hour. It was said that when he was confronted with these accusations, he remained silent, refusing to defend himself. Instead, he waited patiently for his accuser to finish his tirade. When the unicorn had finally ran out of steam, he looked expectantly at the Slave King.

“Well?” he demanded, fully expecting the Lord of Earth to justify the enslavement of his kinsfolk.

However, much to everypony’s surprise, the Slave King only said, “What are your terms?”

To say that Noble Justice was surprised, would be an understatement. When he realized that he could get carte blanche, any concession he wanted, he smiled in triumph. To think that he, a mortal pony had managed to do what the gods had failed, it filled his heart with righteous pride. He thought of the multitudes of ponies and others forced to do the Slave King’s bidding, and demanded the release of every last slave toiling under the cruel bite of his whips.

When he heard the demand, he narrowed his eyes in displeasure, but complied. With a small gesture of his hand, he released tens of thousands of slaves to their freedom.

However, Noble Justice wasn’t yet satisfied. He wanted recompense for Equestria’s stolen citizens. He demanded ten million bits in compensation. The Slave King frowned, before nodding his assent. Pounding his fist against his stone hewn throne, a mountain of bits burst forth at Noble Justice’s hooves. Seeing such vast wealth, the pony smiled. However, his soul was troubled when he saw how much power such a monstrous creature possessed, and knew he needed to make one last demand. Looking up at the Slave King, he said, “Somepony like you is not fit to rule. You must give up your crown to somepony more worthy.”

When he heard the unicorn’s final demand, the Slave King’s eyes burned with bale fire. Glaring wrathfully at the pony at his feet, he removed his crown from his head and spoke, “Little pony, had you not asked for my crown I would have given you all your demands with my blessing. But because of your greed, instead of a blessing, you shall receive naught but a curse. Those who were my slaves are free to go, but they shall find neither water nor sustenance as you shepherd them across the breadth of my realm. As for your recompense, you shall carry its entirety upon your back. Then, and only then, will I give up what’s mine.”

Before Noble Justice could utter a response, the earth swallowed him and the mountain of bits whole, spitting him out deep in the desolate wastelands. Looking up at the bits, he screamed in terror as the mountain fell upon him, burying him alive. Suffice it to say, that very few made the trek across the desolate wastes of the Domain of Earth that day. Most choosing to continue serving the Slave King instead. It’s said, deep in the heart of the southern desert, a mountain of gold stands. Should you ever come across it, remember the lesson that Noble Justice failed to learn, only take as much as you carry, and quit while you’re still ahead.

-Stormbreak, Seapony Harper, Tales of a Wandering Seapony vol. ix

His flesh burned and his blood boiled. Had he been suffering something as pedestrian as physical pain, he might have suffered through it in silence. However, the trauma he was experiencing was something entirely more terrible. It was once again time, and all his instincts cried out for him to heed the siren song of creation, to embrace it as his fellow deities of the Pantheon did. He growled in defiance. Though nature might conspire against him, and demand that he give in, he would not yield. One day he might break, but today was not that day. For he feared losing that which was most precious to him.

All around him, he could feel them stirring awake. For most, the previous night’s activities were met with fondness, regret, or in the case of some, horror at what had transpired. Some silently agreed to never speak of their encounters again, while still others threatened each other with threats of violence over the results of their drunken debauchery. However, some decided to continue their encounters, and it was these affectionate paramours that were causing him such discomfort. It was at this point, that he was regretting last night’s decision to rebuff those who’d pursued him.

His head throbbed and his bones ached. He knew it was his lot to suffer the indignities of his rebellious flesh, until he found release for the pressure building inside him. Rising from his bed, he reached for the wrought iron crown resting on the nightstand next to it. Holding it in his hand, he felt it’s cool pitted surface beneath his fingers. The crown, was quite literally the first thing he’d made as the Lord of Earth. Though over five hundred years old, its surface remained untarnished by either rust or time. Closing his eyes, he placed it over his head. It was times like this, that he was grateful for its design. He felt comforted, as the iron crown covered his face, somehow protecting him from having to face himself.

Opening his eyes, they flared, as the earthen magic coursing through him sought release. Spying the clothes from yesterday laid out neatly on a nearby table, he shook his head in disbelief. Had he actually worn such gaudy things? The idea seemed so alien to him, yet part of him yearned for the touch of the soft satins and smooth silks against his scarred flesh. Ignoring his new found desire, he reached for his familiar well-worn tunic and pants. Though originally the fabric was quite rough, years of wear had worn the hardy fabric smooth and even threadbare in places. Struggling against himself, he’d often found wearing such familiar things, brought him a small piece of comfort and a sense of order to his chaotic worlds. Even now, he could feel the intimacy of what some of his more frisky guests were engaging in, and found the feelings and desires that were welling up inside him, discomfiting.

Looking down at his wrists, he groaned as he saw the dozens of spirit linked chains that kept him a prisoner in his own domain. Though he now possessed a small amount of freedom, he was still barred from a majority of Equestria, due to the banishment that the Pantheon had seen fit to bestow upon him. Looking towards his wardrobe, he saw Darkpaw’s pelt hanging, waiting for him to don it as a second skin. Though his decision to wear it, was seen as ghastly and macabre to some. He found it fitting to wear his predecessor in this way. Though Lord Darkpaw might be in the Summerlands now. In some small way, he was able to live vicariously through him.

Holding up the cloak, he welcomed it like an old friend. Breathing in deeply, he caught the scents of those who pursued him, and began burning anew. Donning his cloak, he placed its heavy paws over his shoulders, and attached its clasps to hold it firmly in place. Next, he drew its hood over his head, covering his face in shadow. Only his brightly burning green eyes and flowing beard, could be seen beneath the hound’s head that covered him. Resting his bare feet against the thick carpet of his room, he wiggled his toes, as he reconnected with the Earth, the fount of his power. Sighing with exhaustion as the song of creation flowed through him, he looked expectantly for her.

Lady Nightmare, his first creation, was closer to him than his own shadow. She was his constant companion, and he found it somewhat odd that she hadn’t yet presented herself to him. Then he remembered last night’s fight between herself and Princess Luna. He’d banished her to ruins of the Diamond Vale for a week for abusing his guest so. Though his anger over the altercation was great, he found her absence disconcerting. As a creature of habit, he’d come to rely on the familiar to see him through these turbulent times. Now that she was nowhere to be found, he discovered how much he’d relied on her for stability, when his body threatened betraying him to its base desires.

Hoping to somewhat sate the ravenous hunger and quench the fiery inferno that burned within him, he placed his hand on one of the nearby rune stones adorning the walls of his bed chamber.

I require sustenance, he spoke through the stone, making his wants known to his cupbearer.

Minutes later, a reindeer covered in fur whiter than freshly fallen snow and a diamond dog bitch with a silken coat entered his chambers, carrying his cup and a large bottle filled with a sparkling green liquid.

“We, your humble servants have answered your call,” the bitch said, giving him a sultry look. “Perhaps, if you desire more than mere sustenance my king, might I offer myself to service your needs?”

“Cut it out, Chrysalis!” the reindeer admonished, giving her a steely look. “The Slave King only desires his breakfast, nothing more.”

“Gunhilde,” Chrysalis said, giving her keeper a sly look. “I’m simply trying to anticipate our liege’s needs. He just completed his renewal, and his chambers show he spent the night alone. He’s obviously in need of relief…”

“That won’t be necessary, Chrysalis,” he said, raising his hand as he interrupted her. “I simply desire some of my draught.”

“Of course, Slave King,” Gunhilde said, offering him his half-filled cup with her magic.

Grabbing the cup from her magical grasp, he drained its contents and held out the cup expectantly. “I require another,” he impatiently said.

Surprised at his behavior, she tried filling his cup once more. Trembling under her master’s burning gaze, she flinched when the Slave King snatched the bottle and upended it in his mouth, draining it contents within seconds.

“I need more,” he said, trying to get the few remaining drops of the draught from the now empty bottle. “When she didn’t move, he scowled at her. “Why are you still standing there? Get me more!”

Frightened by his outburst, the doe dropped his cup and ran to retrieve more bottles of his draught. Leaving the Slave King and Chrysalis alone together.

Picking up the cup, she offered it to him. “It still has a bit inside, if you care to lick the bottom of your cup,” she said, offering him a teasing smile.

“I’m in no mood for antics,” he growled, burning with lust and desperate for more of the one thing that could offer him a respite from the madness that was threatening to overwhelm him. “It’s a dangerous game you play. I know what transpired between you and Nightmare yesterday. Are you to blame for her aggressiveness?”

“I find that the most dangerous games, often have the greatest rewards,” she replied, stepping closer towards him and releasing the pheromones she used to harvest emotions. “But as for your other servants, I can’t be expected to be held responsible for their actions.”

He could taste the burning lust now, and grimaced. Looking at her, he narrowed his eyes in annoyance, fully aware of what she was trying to do. “Most would have sense enough not to provoke the one who holds your fate in his hands,” he said, trying his best to ignore her increasingly attractive, lust filled eyes, and shapely flanks.

“But I’m not like most others,” she said, offering her liege a slight smile. “You knew that when you made me yours. It’s why you extended your offer of service to me.”

When he heard her retort, he wanted to laugh, she had him pegged. “You speak truthfully,” he replied, drawing close to her. “But always remember who the master is here.”

“Ye… yes, of course, Slave King,” she replied, wincing in pain when she felt her brand heating up slightly.

“Good, Chrysalis,” he said, running his fingers through her fur and scratching her behind the ears. “I see Gunhilde has returned with more of my draught.”

"I’m sorry it took so long, Slave King,” she said, lowering her antlers apologetically. Gesturing towards the heavy box holding at least twenty large bottles of his draught, she levitated one towards him. “I didn’t know how much you required.”

When he saw the great crate, he smiled, his suffering temporarily forgotten. “I think that will do quite nicely,” he said, removing the bottle’s stopper with his teeth, and taking a great swig from the bottle in his hand. “Now who wants to go wake up Lady Harmony for me?”

When he saw their unsure faces, he laughed as he gestured for them to follow him out of his bed chamber.

*****

His bed felt wonderfully warm, like the one he’d left behind in the Golden Eyrie. He heard someone entering the room, and groaned. He didn’t want to get up, not yet. He felt a soft hand gently shaking him awake. Drawing his blanket tightly around himself, he rolled over, trying his best to ignore whoever it was that meant to rouse him from his slumber.

“Wake up, Dawson,” a voice said, drawing him back to the waking world.

“Ugh, fine. I’m up, I’m up,” he groaned, while sitting up in the soft bed. Looking around, he found himself in an unfamiliar room. Looking towards the one who’d woke him, he saw Melody smiling cheerfully down at him.

“Have any sweet dreams, little brother?” she asked, giving him a slight smile while offering him a cup containing a steaming dark brown beverage.

Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he groggily accepted the offered drink. Deeply inhaling its rich aromatic scent, his pupils dilated as he felt himself awaken fully. “So, Melody, what’s this?” he asked, taking a small sip of the potent drink. “It’s not like any tea I’ve ever tasted.”

“It’s a drink from the Zebrakan,” she explained, while waiting for him to finish it. “The zebras call it kaffa, while Harmony calls it the only thing that keeps her sane in the mornings. All I know, is that it’s strong enough to wake the dead.”

“So, how did I get here?” he asked, looking around the unfamiliar room while finishing his cup of kaffa. “The last thing I remember was sitting beside my mother at dinner last night.”

Melody gave him a sly grin, before leaning towards him conspiratorially. “King daddy, asked me to look out for you,” she said, taking back the empty cup. “Last night, you and Dame Squall were getting pretty chummy. I don’t think either of you are quite ready for the splish splash of little fins, or would that be the flapping of tiny wings?”

“What!” Dawson shouted in alarm. Wracking his mind, he tried remembering the best he could. Exactly what had he done with her last night? “How far did we go?”

“I’m sorry, Dawson. My lips are sealed,” she replied, placing a finger against her pursed lips. “Dame Squall made me promise not to say anything, after I pulled you two apart. Apparently, when she managed to regain her senses, she felt mortified about almost taking advantage of you in your inebriated state.”

When he heard her describing the situation, his mind instantly returned to the kiss they’d shared back at Bone’s Landing. Though her soft lips had tasted a bit salty from their earlier strenuous battle, and her breath had carried a hint of the ale she’d been drinking, she’d kissed him with a passion that made him feel an unfamiliar hunger as he reminisced what had transpired between them. He wondered if her lips were as soft last night, as he desperately tried remembering what had happened between them.

“So what happened last night?” he asked, feeling a bit flushed as he wondered what it would have been like, waking up besides the beautiful chevaleresse.

When she saw his cheeks taking on a slightly darker hue, she smiled. “Is that the pining for what if, that I see across your beak, Dawson?” she teased, giving him a cheeky grin.

He said nothing, instead giving her a hard look as he reached for his belt. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Melody,” he sourly replied, not enjoying the ribbing she was giving him.

“Oh, don’t be such a pony,” she said, giving him an affectionate hug as she ruffled the feathers on his head. “Besides, is that anyway to speak to the feather that shared their bed with you?”

“Stop teasing me, Melody!” he growled, feeling slightly embarrassed by the revelation. “I don’t like it.”

“Don’t worry, nothing improper happened,” she replied, giving him another hug before releasing him from the vice like grip of her arms. Giving him a sly smile, she drew close to his face. “Unless you were hoping something did happen, Dawson. In which case, I’ll let you use your imagination.”

Annoyed by her relentless teasing, he balled his talons into fists and ground his teeth in aggravation. “Damn it, Melody!” he shouted, blushing furiously at what his imagination was showing him.

Releasing a hearty laugh, she pulled him out of her room. “Come on, lover boy, time to go get some breakfast!” she teased.

“Argh!” he seethed, grumbling as he followed her into the kitchen.

“Oh, pancakes! My favorite,” Harmony happily chirped, placing a large stack of flapjacks onto her plate.

Reluctantly, Dawson followed after her, filing his plate up with some pancakes along with a bowl of cherries. Stepping out into the dining hall, he was surprised by the number of deities that were still sleeping off the effects of the previous night’s drunken revelry. Looking at the far side of the dining hall, he noticed five of Lord Triton’s chevaleresse nursing their hangovers as they quietly chatted amongst themselves. Each was a beauty in their own right, and wore armor that showed off their soft curves as they floated along in the magic bubbles that held them aloft. Looking to his left, he saw Melody grinning at him and decided to focus on his meal. Returning to his breakfast, he dug his fork into the pancakes with zeal as he tried ignoring her continual teasing.

“Oh, Dawson,” she whispered to him. “Whatever you do, don’t look up.”

“Why?” he asked, looking towards her, before wishing he hadn’t. He saw Dame Squall floating past them to join her fellow chevaleresse for breakfast. Seeing her flowing purple mane, and the shining scales on her pale green skin made him loose his appetite, as he thought about what Melody had told him earlier.

“Why don’t you go talk to her?” Melody suggested, placing her hand on his shoulder. “Maybe she feels the same way.”

“What are you talking about?” Dawson said, looking away from Dame Squall and trying his best to avoid Melody’s forceful gaze. Knowing she wouldn’t let up, he returned to his breakfast and began eating it as quickly as possible.

“Oh you know…” she replied, allowing her words to trail off as she suggestively raised her eyebrows.

“By the Pit, Melody,” he murmured under his breath. Dropping his fork onto his plate, he stood up, and shot her a dirty look, before heading over towards Dame Squall to talk with her.

When she saw he was going to go talk to her, Melody dreamily sighed, silently wishing somefeather would feel the same way about her.

Approaching the chevaleresse’s table, he felt his heart race, as his mouth went dry. He had no idea why he was doing this, and felt the cold grasp fear in his gut as he approached them. Walking forward, he looked around and saw that most of the guests were still under the effects of the Slave King’s wine. Some of them were of races he’d never have thought would willingly seek each other out. Looking at Dame Squall’s fins and scales, he considered his own feathered wings and beak. He wondered if such a union was a good idea, let alone even feasible, but when he caught the scent of her perfume, all those thoughts were banished.

He was now within spitting distance of her, and wondered what she would say to him. Once he’d reached her table, one of other chevaleresse looked at Dame Squall mischievously, before giving him her full attention. “What does the son of Lady Zephyr want with the humble servants of Lord Triton?” she asked, looking up at him expectantly with her searching ice blue eyes.

He wasn’t sure what he should say, he knew he wanted to spend more time with Dame Squall, but wasn’t sure how to voice his desires. He wished he was more eloquent, so as not to appear the fool, but as he wracked his mind, he didn’t know quite what to say to her.

When she saw that he wasn’t answering her immediately, she turned to her fellow chevaleresse. “Sisters, it appears that Dame Squall has cast quite a wide net,” she said, releasing a musical laugh. “Managing to catch clods of dirt all the way from Bone’s Landing, is quite a feat indeed.”

When she heard the barb, Dame Squall’s face flushed with embarrassment, as she pursed her lips angrily. “Dame Calm Breeze,” she replied, her voice carrying a hint of sarcasm. “Perhaps were you to tend to your own nets, you might catch more than flotsam and jetsam.”

Dame Calm Breeze huffed once when she heard her retort, before regaining her composure. “Be that as it may,” she coolly replied, as the other chevaleresse looked at them in amusement. “But the refuse of the sea holds more worth then all the tarnished treasures of the earth.”

Dame Squall dropped her utensil, and opened her mouth to say something before Dawson interrupted her. “I was…” he said, trying his best not to stumble over his words. “Well that is, Dame Squall, Melody and I were wondering if you wanted to join us for breakfast.”

When she heard his request, she inwardly groaned when she thought about they had almost done last night. Looking over at her fellow knights, she saw they looked at him with a mixture of desire at his comeliness, and revulsion at his ancestry. Though it might be enjoyable to share breakfast with them, she didn’t want it rumored that she was courting a mudslinger. “I’m going to have to say…” she said, before Dame Calm Breeze snickered at her.

“Dame Squall, enjoy your meal together,” she replied. “Don’t forget to wash the dirt from your fins once you’ve had your fun with him.”

“Let’s go, Dawson,” she deadpanned, picking up her plate and giving Dame Calm Breeze a venomous look.

“When you get back, sister, tell us how much you enjoyed rolling about in the mud!” she called out after them, as the other chevaleresse chuckled at her barb.

“Perhaps, if you’re all so curious to find out,” Dawson said, pointing towards the far side of the room. In the corner, Lady Minoa was holding Lord Triton tightly in her arms, as they peacefully slept together. “You can ask your liege how he enjoyed his roll in the mud with the Lady of Spring.”

When they heard his retort, they said nothing. Instead they returned to their breakfast in silence. As they walked away from the seapony mares, he thought he saw a few of them giving Dame Squall envious looks.

“Dawson, look, I’m sorry about the others,” she said, still feeling slightly flustered over what Calm Breeze had said. Though last night had enflamed passions she didn’t know she possessed, she was still a daughter of Lord Triton and a chevaleresse of the Lawgiver, and needed to conduct herself as such. “I’m afraid there’s still some hard feelings over Bone’s Landing, and Sir Hurricane’s defeat.”

“It’s alright,” he replied, enjoying her company and the light scent of roses that her perfume carried. “As the only griffin-half around, I’ve gotten use to the teasing and petty insults. Actually, being hated for being a mudslinger is refreshing.”

“Oh, why is that?” she asked, brushing her purple bangs from her eyes with her fin. She was curious why anypony would desire to have anything to do with the Slave King, if they could help it.

“It’s refreshing being hated for belonging, rather than for being,” he explained, feeling his wings twitch involuntarily as they brushed against her backside. “Does that make any sense to you?”

“Well, not really,” she said, stroking her chin thoughtfully with her fin for a moment. Before sitting down besides Melody.

“What are you two talking about?” Melody asked, giving them a teasing smile.

“Not much,” Dawson replied, before returning to his half-finished meal. “Just trying to explain what it’s like to be a beastfolk.”

“Ah,” she appreciatively said, attacking her pancakes with relish.

“Oh, is that what you meant?” Dame Squall asked, suddenly understanding his meaning. “I’d think being the son of Lady Zephyr, would’ve made growing up easier.”

“Well I’m weaker than most griffins, and mother was always afraid I’d get hurt,” he said between bites. “So she always had the tendency to be a bit over protective of me. I’d imagine Lady Suzaku felt the same way about you.”

“Ha, hardly!” Melody retorted, pouring a bit more syrup on her flapjacks. “Mother was quite the opposite. I actually think she’s relieved that her rambunctious children all live in the south. Though phoenixes are magically powerful, they are rather weak and never enjoyed rough housing.”

“So how many of you are there?” Dame Squall asked, cutting her food.

“Hmm… I’m not really sure,” she replied, tapping her fork thoughtfully against her plate. “Maybe fifty or more. Mother never told me our tribe’s full numbers.”

“So many?” Dawson said, feeling surprised that there could be so many feathered folk. “How could that be?”

Appreciating his confusion, Melody gave him a slight smile. “Well Dawson,” she said, leaning in close and lowering her voice to a whisper. “What do you know of the race known as the wayfarers?”

*****

The time for him to act was drawing close. Though he was certain his choice was the correct one, he still felt conflicted over betraying his friend in such a way. Though he would probably be punished harshly for his transgression, he was prepared to face the consequences. The alternative was too terrible to accept. Walking through the corridors of the palace, he wondered when this was over, if he would ever be forgiven. But the more pressing matter that occupied his mind was, would she ever forgive him for leaving her all alone. Though he had misgivings about it, he knew he couldn’t go through with this without letting her know why.

Walking towards the wing of the palace they shared together, he approached the door to her chambers, and knocked on it lightly. “Come in,” came the muted reply.

Opening the door, he entered and looked up at her, surprised that she was fully dressed in her armor. “Aria, my pupil,” he said, “I’m surprised you’re already up. I was fully expecting you to still be under the influence of last night’s revelry.”

When she heard him enter, she turned to face him. “Master Scourge, I chose to skip all the drinking,” she replied, offering him a wry smile. “With that traitor Second up to no good, the Slave King needed at least one of his servants with their wits still about them.”

When he heard her mention Second, he frowned. “Little pup,” he said, looking up into her golden eyes. “Come sit with me.”

“Yes, master,” she said, sitting down beside him, and resting her arm against the armor that was bound to his incorporeal form. “What is it?”

“My pupil,” he said, looking up at her and wishing that he didn’t have to force her to choose between her duty to her father and her loyalty to him. “The Slave King faces great peril today.”

When she heard him, she looked at her master with concern etched into her face. “Master Scourge, what is it, who is it?” she asked, trying to discover what great danger they’d failed to anticipate.

“Somehound will betray him today,” he replied with a heavy heart.

“It’s Second, isn’t it?” she cried out, incensed that treacherous scoundrel was still breathing. Drawing her long bladed arcanum knife, she ran a finger against its razor edge, as fire followed in her finger’s wake. “Master, allow me to eliminate him for his treason!”

Scourge shook his head, and placed his heavy paw against her. “No, little pup,” he said, wishing there was some other way. “Second has his paw in this betrayal, but he’s not the instigator of this conspiracy.”

“Then who?” she asked, wondering who else would dare, when the Slave King was at the height of his power. “Is it Arch Duke Yipyap, or possibly even Nidhogg? But why would they betray the Slave King? They’ve been nothing but loyal for centuries.”

“No, little pup, they aren’t aware of this plot,” he said, pleased with how quickly her mind was sifting through the plot. “The knife strike, shall come from the one he would never suspect.”

“Who else could it possibly be?” she asked, before realizing who he meant, himself. “Master, why are you telling me this?”

“So when I’m gone, you don’t waste away wondering, why,” he replied, giving her a sorrowful look. “I apologize, little pup, for implicating you in my betrayal. But I couldn’t go without saying goodbye first.”

“But, master! Why are you doing this?” she cried out, feeling her eyes burn as she felt the tears fighting to escape. “How can you possibly betray all you stand for? How can you betray the Slave King? How can you betray me?”

“Sometimes, little pup, you must fall upon your own sword, to protect the ones you love,” he replied, standing up, and fully prepared to betray his friend. “My disciple, I must ask that you remain here until the deed is done.”

“How can you ask me to do nothing?” she demanded, feeling tears wetting her face as she confronted him. “Master Scourge, this goes against all you’ve ever taught me!”

“Aria, I ask you to trust me,” he replied, turning to face her and offering her a plaintive look.

“But, master…” she begged, her voice trembling and nearly a whisper, while her reddened eyes threatened to release a torrent of bitter tears. “Please, don’t leave me all alone.”

When he heard her distress, he walked towards her, and held her. “Always remember,” he said, before breaking their embrace. “Little pup, I love you no matter what.”

As she watched him leave her room, she felt grief washing over her. She knew what the Slave King did to traitors, regardless of how long they’d served him. She knew Master Scourge would be no exception, and felt fear clutching at her heart at what would become of him. Once he’d finally left, she felt to her knees and wept.

*****

He could feel her warmth against him, it’d been so long since he’d last held her. He’d missed feeling her warmth so badly, it pained him. But the pain of his loss, was a thing of the past and no more. This time, he would be more careful. This time he’d be more attentive to her needs in the future, he decided. This time, she wouldn’t cry. This time he swore, she’d only know happiness. Resting his head against her warm body, he wondered if she’d missed him as badly as he had. Though his recollection of last night’s events was still fuzzy, he remembered her off key singing and fondly smiled. It felt so good after all this time, to finally be reunited with her. Though he still despised the Slave King, he decided he needed to thank him for making it possible to reunite with her.

It’s so nice, to wake besides somedeer you care for, he decided. Even if it’s on the floor. Wow, it starting to get rather warm. I’m so thirsty. I wonder what’s being served for breakfast. By the pit, Luna, you’re like a furnace! At least I’ll never have to worry about ice covered sheets again.

“Feeling comfortable, Cerynitis?” an irritated voice asked.

Without thinking, he snuggled against her flanks once more and smiled. “Yes, thank you for asking,” he replied. “Tell the kitchen, to bring us some water and a cup of tea for my lady.”

“Your lady?” the voice said, amused by what it’d been told. “Rimefrost, you blind fool! Open your eyes.”

When he opened his eyes, he was shocked by what he saw. Instead of lying beside his beautiful and lovely Luna, he found none other than the elemental form of the Fire Tyrant looking down at him bemusedly. “What have you done with her?” he demanded, struggling to stand, but finding such a task beyond him at the moment. As his angry voice rang out, he winced in pain as his voice rang through his head.

“Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho!” Lord Ouroboros laughed in amusement at his bed mate's bewilderment. “What have I done with her? Nothing, you fool. You spent all night with me, drunkenly swearing vengeance against the Slave King, and crying into your goblet over letting your dear sweet Luna slip through your hooves, like so much sand.”

“But last night, I remembered…” he objected, nearly retching on the foul tasting film covering his tongue.

“Nothing happened between us,” Lord Ouroboros insisted, giving him a dangerous look with his flame filled eyes, suggesting pain would be forth coming if he decided to press the matter.

“Then where is she?” he asked, fearful of the answer.

“She choose to share her bed with a more sober companion,” he replied, relishing the pain his revelation was causing him.

“No, not again!” Lord Cerynitis shouted, struggling to stand up on his unsteady hooves. Instead, he fell to the ground like a new born faun. When he realized he was stuck laying besides his tormentor, he cried out in frustration. “This isn’t fair! She returned to me last night!”

“You’re pathetic, Rimefrost,” the Fire Tyrant taunted, pointing a flaming claw at him. “Weeping like a dragoness, over losing a female. There’s plenty of others available, most of them are still in a drunken stupor. Stop your mewling, and have your way with one of them.”

“Shut up, wyrm!” he shouted, feeling cold fury overcome him. Standing up, he felt the icy tendrils of his power covering him, as he stood before his tormentor. “You’re nearly as degenerate as the Slave King. Had I the strength, I would smite you for your insult.”

“It looks like you’re not such a pathetic weakling after all,” Lord Ouroboros said with a slight laugh, releasing his power and renewed the dying flames that made up his body. Looking down at Lord Cerynitis, his flaming eyes took on a dangerous gleam. “So, Rimefrost, would you care to make good on last night’s boasting?”

“What do you mean?” he asked, not quite sure what he meant. “I don’t get your meaning.”

Lord Ouroboros looked down at the Lord of Winter with a hint of annoyance on his face. “Last night you vowed to destroy the Slave King,” he explained, giving him an expectant look.

When he heard the dragon make the suggestion, he frowned. “How could I possibly do that in the heart of his domain, and while he’s at the height of his power, no less?” he asked, unable to fathom how such a feat could be accomplished. “I am weakened, and you’re naught but easily extinguished flames.”

When Lord Ouroboros heard his objections, he flared with displeasure. “That is true, Lord Cerynitis,” he said, acknowledging his suggestion’s obvious flaws. “But not all dangers are so readily apparent.”

“Is the mighty, Fire Tyrant, actually attempting subterfuge?” Lord Cerynitis asked in disbelief. “Has the whole world gone mad, or do I still slumber, inside my icy keep?”

“Oh, this is no dream, Lord Cerynitis,” he replied, with a cruel smile. “The nightmare is just starting for the Slave King.”

Though he still remembered what happened the last time Lord Ouroboros attempted scheming against the Slave King, the cold rage in his heart demanded vengeance against the one who’s taken everything away from him. Shaking his antlers, he looked up at him. “Alright, I’m in. Tell me your plan,” he said.

With a conspiratorial smile, Lord Ouroboros leaned down and spoke into his ear. “It happened about twelve years ago…”

*****

“Luna, come out this instant!” Celestia said, with a voice as firm and unyielding as steel.

“Nay, sister,” Luna sulked, refusing to leave the bathroom she’d locked herself inside. “We shan’t allow him another opportunity to mock us.”

Though she didn’t know what had transpired between Luna and the Slave King last night, and what’d caused her to act so withdrawn. She wouldn’t allow her sister’s moodiness to ruin centuries of planning. “Dear sister,” she implored, softening her tone in hopes of drawing her out. “His inauguration ceremony will begin in a few hours, and both of us are required to be present.”

“But… but we shall be mocked by the others,” Luna wailed from behind the door. “The Slave King hast surely told the others of our meeting.”

“Luna…” Celestia gently said, hoping to assuage her sister’s fear of being publicly humiliated. “In the many centuries the Slave King has ruled, has he ever willingly engaged in gossip, especially when it involves himself?”

She said nothing, choosing to remain silent from behind the locked door. Looking down at the floor, Celestia could see her sister’s shadow, and knew she was finally willing to listen.

“Besides,” Celestia continued, “didn’t I promise you back in Londwhinium, that I’d ensure nopony mocks you?”

Opening the door slightly, Luna peeked out at her sister. Giving Celestia a sullen look, she bowed her head. “Dost thou promise it?” she meekly asked, looking at her with hope in her sapphire eyes.

Offering her sister a kind smile, she nodded once. “Of course, Luna,” she said, opening the door with her magic. “I would never allow anypony to harm you.”

Luna rushed to her side, and embraced her. “We art sorrowful, dearest sister, for our foalishness,” she said, finding comfort in her sibling’s warmth. “We fear to lose the respect of our peers. Tis, one of the few precious things we dost still possess, that is ours, and ours alone.”

“Luna, why would you ever think such a thing?” Celestia asked, filled with concern for her sister’s well-being.

“Celestia,” Luna replied, breaking their embrace and looking into her concerned eyes. “We art fully cognizant, that most consider us an afterthought to thy beauty, wisdom, and grace. We know none would desire us, when they could have thee instead.”

When she heard her sister’s confession, Celestia looked at her dejectedly. Her heart ached for her, and her lavender eyes grew moist, when she discovered how poorly she thought of herself. Luna, you will be happy once more, she swore, determined to rescue her sister from the darkness that seemed to be shrouding her heart.

“Little sister,” she affectionately said, as she gently nuzzled her cheek. “You are my exemplar. You are who I strive to be. Just as the night brings relief from the heat of the day, your kind heart and gentle nature tempers me.”

When she heard her sister’s loving words, Luna felt bewildered. She’d no idea Celestia felt that way about her. “Sister, forgive us…” she said, resting her head against her sister’s shoulder. “Forgive us, for being such a foal. For envying the praise given to thee.”

“There’s nothing to forgive, Luna,” she replied, affectionately touching her horn to her sister’s. “Having you by my side is all I desire.”

Yes, Luna, the voice mockingly said. Run back to Celestia like an obedient little filly. Be a good foal, and do as you’re told.

When she heard the voice’s mocking whispers, Luna laid back her ears in agitation. Enough, thou fiend! she cried out. Leave us, thou scound miscreant. We desire the affections of our sister, not thy base and spurious rumors.

When Celestia saw Luna’s distress, she looked into her eyes. “Is something else bothering you?” she asked, wondering what was agitating her. “Are you still feeling apprehensive about the inauguration ceremony?”

Go on, Luna, the voice taunted, daring her to speak. Tell Celestia everything. How you’ve been lusting after the Slave King like some degenerate whore, and how you’re slowly losing your mind to a voice in your head.

“We… that is,” Luna stammered, deathly afraid what Celestia might think of her, if she spoke of the thoughts that had been plaguing her of late. “Aye, dear sister, we art simply feeling slightly embarrassed regarding our earlier tantrum.

“Don’t worry, Luna,” Celestia promised her. “I’ll be by your side the entire time. And if anypony so much as looks at you funny, they’ll have to deal with me.”

Seeing her sister filled with such concern for her well-being, brought comfort to her troubled heart. But what protection could she possibly offer against the cruelty of the voice’s taunts, or even worse, what if she was truly losing her mind? Deciding that she didn’t wish to worry her sister any further, she warmly smiled. “Celestia, whatever did we do, to deserve such a sister as thee?” she asked, disguising her fears behind a placid mask.

“I think that’s my line, Luna,” Celestia replied with a grin, pleased that her sister seemed to be in more jovial spirits. “Come, Luna, let’s eat. I think I smell pancakes.”

Luna nodded once, the thought of food made her stomach rumble in anticipation. Following her out of their shared quarters, she wondered how she might cope, should she meet the Slave King again. Her mind returned to last night, the kiss they’d shared, and his emotionless response to her offer. She didn’t understand his hesitancy, they’d had such a wonderful time together. She blushed, as she remembered how he looked when he’d opened his door to her. His muscled form looked as unyielding as stone, yet his hands were gentle and pliant with her as he examined her wounds. His green eyes, normally burning with cruelty, reflected concern for her, when she’d been attacked by his fearsome servant, Nightmare.

She’d found the playful banter they’d shared together enjoyable. He’d challenged her, yet still treated her as his peer. He neither scraped at her hooves for her approval, nor attempted lording himself over her. She thought of their impromptu race, how he’d graciously accepted defeat when she’d won, even though she’d cheated by knocking him aside. She’d been surprised by his response, when she demanded a prize, and he’d acquiesced to her claim. She wondered, had she requested what her body desired, would he have honored her request?

She could still smell the sweet intoxicating fragrance of the flowers blooming in Darkpaw’s Temple. She remembered how they’d excited and heightened the desire she’d felt. When he stepped into the emerald waters of the fountain, she’d felt a connection to him that only grew as he tapped into his power. Though he wasn’t a stallion, she’d thought he looked magnificent as he performed his renewal. They shared a connection to the Domain of Shadows, which strengthened the desire she held for him, and she was almost certain he’d felt the same pull as she.

When his renewal began, she’d felt the pulse of the Earth beating in time with him. Once he’d touched the large gem floating above him, releasing his power into the Earth, she found herself captivated by his majesty and allure. Though his body carried numerous scars, burns, old wounds, and was even missing his right arm. She found in him at that moment, an indescribable beauty, much like the rough craggy peak of a majestic mountain, or the desolate aesthetic of the barren desert beneath her pale moon.

Once he’d finished renewing the Earth, she’d found herself unable to resist the pull that existed between them any longer, and approached him. She sensed in him, the same longing she felt inside her own heart. Drawing near to him, she stepped into the sparkling green waters of the fountain, and felt invigorated as its potent waters healed her wounds. She’d been so close to him then, and felt his apprehension at her approach. She’d only wished to hold and comfort him, banishing away his fear. When she’d looked into his eyes then, she no longer saw a monster, but only somepony hiding behind a mask who was too afraid to accept the gift she willingly offered.

Reaching out to him with her magic, she’d only wanted to calm and reassure her dark paramour. Instead, she’d been taken by animalistic passion she’d not known in ages, closed her eyes, and kissed him. At first, he struggled against her magic’s grasp, as he tried breaking free. She’d found his struggles to escape had made her even more excited, as he fought in vain against her kiss. Blind to the world, she knew only his intoxicating scent, the pressure of his pliant lips, and the passion welling up inside her. She’d melted into him as he slowly accepted her kiss, and reciprocated her passion with all power of a fiery inferno. She’d felt his magic a mere hairbreadth away from mingling with hers, and desperately longed to join with him.

Once they’d separated, she’d looked up into his eyes, hoping he’d accept her invitation. She’d felt and shared the hunger burning within him, but also saw a quiet sorrow reflected back at her. Wishing to help him forget, she’d attempted enticing him to retire with her. But to her consternation, he withdrew from her yearning touch, abandoning her inside Darkpaw’s Temple, leaving her feeling frustrated and unfulfilled. Thinking of the electric atmosphere and tension that existed between them last night, she wondered why he’d spurned her advances. Perhaps, she’d been too forward with him, or maybe he’d felt overwhelmed and unsure of himself.

Looking at her elder sister, she found herself feeling envious of her mane and tail. Unlike her own mane that sparkled like diamonds, Celestia’s mane was radiant, like the dawn. Her pearlescent coat, accentuating the gentle curves of her flanks, drew the lustful eyes of stallions everywhere. Though she’d seen very little of his eyes beneath his mask like crown, she was sure that even the Slave King enjoyed looking at her sister just as much as the rest of the males of the pantheon. She sighed, knowing there was no way she could compete against her loveliness. Because, just as the sun outshone the moon, so too, did her sister’s beauty outshine hers.

“Luna?” she heard Celestia ask.

“What is it, mine sister?” she asked, looking up and realizing they were now in the Palace’s kitchen. She’d been absentmindedly following her sister, and hadn’t been quite been paying attention to where they’d been going.

Celestia offered her a warm smile, before gesturing towards the stacks of pancakes the Slave King’s army of chefs were making. “How many would you like?” she asked, levitating a plate towards her.

“At least eight,” Luna said, grabbing the offered plate with own magic. Looking at their surroundings, she tilted her head and looked questioningly at her. “Celestia, pray tell, why dost the Slave King expect us to fetch our own food?”

Celestia gave her sister a teasing smirk. “Come on, Luna,” she replied, piling her plate high with pancakes, butter, and syrup. “Where’s your sense of adventure? Don’t tell me, you don’t find this the tiniest bit fun. Imagine, what the nobility would say, if they saw us retrieving our own breakfasts?”

Luna smiled at the thought of the all the nobles feigning outrage. Furious at the scandal the Slave King had made, for having the audacity of making their princesses fetch their own breakfasts. “Nay, mine sister, tis not what we meant,” she said, placing a generous helping of cream a top her stack of pancakes. “We wonder why the Slave King declined serving us our meals in the banquet hall.”

“Luna, I think that’s why,” Celestia said, motioning towards an extremely agitated Lord Triton who was glaring daggers at an equally furious Lady Minoa, in the middle of the dining hall.

*****

He knelt low to the ground, trembling before the terrifying visage of the monster before him. He dared not look up, lest he incur its wrath. Withering beneath its bestial gaze, he closed his eyes, and hoped that the services he’d rendered thus far, were sufficient to stave off the fires of its displeasure. He might have prayed, had it done any good. But there was no gods among the pantheon that could aid him now. He was totally and utterly damned, his only hope for survival was continuing to service it, and hope that he didn’t fail.

“Second, you have pleased me,” the voice of his true master rumbled, causing him to shiver in terror, as each syllable drove an icy dagger of fear into his heart. “Soon, I shall be free, and the pantheon will be at my mercy.”

“And my reward, master?” Second asked, while cowering before his master murderous eyes.

“Never fear, Second, you shall receive your reward in due time,” his master replied with a slight chuckle, while looking down in amusement at his servant’s cowering supplication. “You will take the Slave King’s place, and rule over the Domain of Earth in his stead. That is of course, if you continue to serve me well. If not, well it’s best not to think of the consequences for failing me.”

“Of course, my master,” Second replied, trying his best to keep his composure. “The price of failure, is death.”

When his master heard his response, he let out a booming laugh. “Second, what makes you think your pitiful life is worth enough to cover the price for failing me?” his master asked.

“Forgive me for speaking out of turn, master,” Second replied, while digging his claws into the stone tile beneath him. “I only assumed you’d slay me for failing you.”

“Should you fail in your task, Second,” his master warned, while running his forked tongue along his razor sharp teeth. “You will join me inside the Pit. And there, I shall administer your punishment.”

When he heard the price for failure, his heart nearly stopped. The only time he’d ever looked down into it, he saw a black abyss staring back up at him, threatening to swallow up his soul. Ever since, he’d avoided both the Pit and the Gates of Tartarus whenever possible.

“I won’t fail you, master,” Second replied as calmly as he could.

“I know you won’t, Second. I know you won’t,” his master said, before giving him a thoughtful look. “Report back to me, once the Slave King’s fate has been sealed.”

“As you wish, master,” he replied, as his master’s image crumbled back into the earth.

Once he was alone, he exhaled in relief. He’d survived yet another meeting with his terrible master. His heart was still pounding with fear, and had he been a saner hound, he might’ve abandon his service to his dark lord. But he’d been traveling down this dark path for far too long to turn back now. His master had corrupted him totally and fully, and his only choice now, was moving forward to his master’s victory and his eventual reward as the new Lord of Earth.

“Well, he was a rather grim fellow, wasn’t he?” he heard a voice said from behind him, nearly causing him to have an aneurysm.

Fearful of his eventual fate as his master’s plaything, should his betrayal be exposed, he turned around quicker than lightning to face and slay whoever it was that was foolish enough to reveal themselves to him. Seeing nohound, he moved his ears, trying to get a fix on the invisible spy.

“Reveal yourself!” he commanded, as black flames ran up and down his body.

“Second, I think we’ll need to renegotiate my contract,” the voice said from above him.

“Oh, grub, it’s you,” he growled, searching for the changeling so he could kill the spy for what he’d overheard.

“What are you doing, Second?” Bazzt Zzzt asked with a small laugh. “Surely you’ll want to know what it’s going to cost you keep me on retainer, until the end of the world.”

“Oh, grub, I already have a sum in mind,” Second answered, smashing some of the furniture with his claws. “It comes with quite a generous severance package as well.”

“Oh, Second, I can imagine it does,” Bazzt Zzzt said, as his employer swiped his paw against a statue’s head, decapitating it. “I was thinking ten times the going rate, plus my labor costs of course.”

“Oh, of course,” Second agreed, raking his claws against a nearby wardrobe, breaking it into splinters. “Is there anything else you want?”

“Yes, I want in,” Bazzt Zzzt said. “I’m sure your master might have a place in his organization for someone with my talents.

When he heard the demand, Second viciously smiled, as he looked at his destroyed furniture and nodded. “Very well, Bazzt Zzzt,” he said. “But I need you to step out into the open, before I can initiate you.”

“Nice try, Second,” he said, with a smile. “But you’re gonna have to promise first, not to kill, maim, claw, bite, or otherwise try to harm me in anyway.”

When he heard the demand, he saw one of the nearby communications gems embedded in the wall. He could easily get one of his underlings in here to kill the bothersome insect. “Alright, I agree,” he said, nodding once as he stepped towards the gem.

“Not so fast, Second, but I’m going to have to insist you promise, that you won’t have others doing your dirty work for you,” he said, when he saw that his employer was attempting to summon his subordinates.

Knowing he was beaten, he balled up his large paw into a fist. Punching the wall as hard as he could, he broke a large piece of the stone wall into rubble. “Fine, you insolent insect,” he growled in frustration. “You’ll get your increased pay, and I won’t try killing you. But the master decides whether you get an invite into his inner circle or not.”

“Fair enough, Second,” Bazzt Zzzt said, jumping out of the doomhound’s shadow. He’d disguised himself by assumed the mirror image of Second. Offering his employer a rather self-congratulatory smirk, he presented himself with a slight bow.

When he saw where the insufferable changeling had been hiding the entire time, Second wanted to pull out his fur in anger. Though his master would be vexed at having been discovered, he liked initiative, and say whatever you wanted about Bazzt Zzzt, he possessed that in spades. Looking at the changeling spy with a slight scowl, he released a small growl. “Once the Slave King has been dealt with, I’ll let my master deal with you,” he said, leveling a dark look at his doppelganger.

“Since we’re going to be partners now, Second,” Bazzt Zzzt said, giving his employer a curious look. “Mind telling me what exactly is going on regarding the Slave King.”

Had he not just promised to spare the changeling any harm, Second would have slain Bazzt Zzzt for his impudence. However, he was a hound of his word, and so the bug would be spared for now. Besides, it would be much more entertaining seeing the changeling getting crushed by his master. “Very well, grub,” he said, laying his ears back in annoyance. “Consider this your first official assignment, in the service of our master. Here’s what I expect you to do…”

When he heard the plan, Bazzt Zzzt laughed at the sheer audacity of it. He was certain serving Second in this new capacity would be quite entertaining, not to mention quite lucrative. “Alright, Second,” he said, before exiting the room. “I’ll be waiting for your signal.”

Finally alone, Second looked at the damage he’d done to his quarters and sighed. He only hoped there would be no further complications, and walked to the gem embedded in the wall. Activating it, he sought out his unwitting accomplice in his plot to betray the Slave King. Scourge, are you ready to do your part? he inquired.

Over a minute passed before he received a response. Yes, yes I am, Scourge sullenly answered, the shame for partaking in this sorted affair clearly evident in his voice. Don’t worry, I’ll see to it that, The Vendetta, has been relocated in time.

Good, I took a big risk in agreeing to help you, Second said, enjoying the moral dilemma his superior was suffering through. Scourge, I trust you’ve kept your muzzle closed regarding this.

Aria is aware of my intended betrayal, Scourge answered.

What! Second roared, bewildered why he’d do something so stupid. You fool! She’ll inform the Slave King of your treason.

I couldn’t allow her to wonder why I betrayed the Slave King, once I’ve received my punishment for my treachery, he answered, slightly annoyed that his subordinate was questioning his reasons.

If the little bird talks out of turn, spending some personal time in the Cavern of Torment will be the least of your concerns, Second replied, thinking back to what his master had warned him would be his ultimate fate, should he fail in this task.

Second, you seem rather concerned for my well-being for being such a reluctant partner in this scheme, he pointedly said.

Things were threatening to unravel, and Second couldn’t allow that to happen, not when he was so close to victory. Quickly, he returned to his favorite tactic, lying. Scourge, he venomously said, though no doubt you find my concern for your well-being touching. I assure you, it’s simply self-preservation. I simply don’t wish to suffer due to your bungling.

Aria won’t be a problem, Scourge said, worried what his subordinate might do to ensure her silence.

That’s not good enough, Scourge, Second warned, his voice hinting at violence. She’ll need to be silenced.

Don’t you dare touch her! Scourge roared, causing Second’s mind to reel from the power of his fury.

It was your choice to involve her, not mine, Second replied. Any harm that befalls her as a result, is squarely on your shoulders.

You touch her, and I’ll cast you into the Pit personally, consequences be damned! Scourge growled.

Then you’d better hope she keeps her pretty little beak shut, Second retorted.

She’s agreed to remain in her room until the deed’s done, Scourge answered, praying to the gods she would keep her promise.

Very well, Second said, reluctantly agreeing to stay his paw. But if she leaves her room, I’m going to have to take steps.

She will, Scourge answered, swearing on the Slave King’s iron crown to destroy Second, should any harm befall his beloved disciple.

Breaking his link with Scourge, Second removed his paw from the gem. Leaving the ruins of his personal quarters for the palace servants to deal with. Heading towards Aria’s room to ensure she had an accident, should she decide to warn the Slave King of their treason.

Author's Note

Thank you gentlereader for reading chapter 11 of The Book of Water: The Marriage of the Slave King, as always comments are appreciated. My sincerest apologies for the lengthy wait. I know on my, last blog entry I promised the chapter was nearly 90% complete. However due to a massive infusion of plot, the last chapter ballooned to well over 40k words. Because of this I've decided to split up the release into four or more separate chapters, to close up the first arc of the story. I'll be releasing a new chapter every day until it's finished, hopefully that will make up for the two month period without updates, you were forced to endure. Who'd have thunk I'd end up churning nearly 50k words for the ending. Because of this once the first arc is done, I'll be releasing the second arc as its own separate story, tentatively entitled The Book of Water: The Icy Heart of Winter.

Regarding this chapter, we find everyone dealing with the aftermath of the previous night's drinking in their own way. The Slave King seems to regret his sobriety, while binge drinking his Draught of Renewal. We see that Dawson seems to be developing some feelings for Dame Squall, while Melody seems to enjoy teasing him mercilessly. Scourge and Aria had a touching moment, as they feel torn between their duty and each other. Cerynitis and Ouroboros seem intent on ruining the Slave King's day, as Triton and Minoa seem intent on ruining each others. The plot thickens as Bazzt Zzzt seems to have gotten the upper hoof over Second, we can only wonder what future treachery lies in store. And what of Luna and Celestia, will that mysterious voice bring her to ruin, or will Celestia manage to figure things out before it's too late?

Find out the answers to these questions and more, in the next exciting chapter of The Book of Water: Marriage of the Slave King, coming to computer near you!

Once again gentlereader, thank you for reading and all your kind words and support. You make writing worthwhile. Until next time!

Chapter 12: For Whom the Bell Tolls: Part II: A Heartfelt Desire

The Book of Water: The Marriage of the Slave King

A Story by TalonMach5

Chapter 12: For Whom the Bell Tolls: Part II: A Heartfelt Desire

“Slave King, all the final preparations for your inauguration are ready,” Harmony said, reading from a stack of papers as she following besides him. “Once all your guests have had their fill of breakfast, you’re free to begin.”

“Are you certain, you don’t want to wear something a little more stunning?” Ringing Bells asked, trotting besides him. “For such a momentous occasion, surely you deserve to wear only the best.”

The Slave King stopped to consider what she said, as he drained his goblet. Gunhilde, seeing his cup was now empty, hurried to refill it. Though the silk and satin clothes the fashionista had made for him felt delightful against his skin, right now, he desperately needed the familiar to keep him grounded. He didn’t know if he could say no again, if one of them approached him.

“No,” he answered, looking down at the fashionista. “Though this occasion is of some import, I fear your clothing may not survive the trip to our meeting place.”

“Oh, that’s quite all right, your majesty,” she said, levitating a quill and parchment in front of her. “I’m already planning your ensemble for tonight’s banquet.”

“Another banquet?” the Slave King sighed, not looking forward to it in the slightest. “I fear after last night’s revelry, all my guests would choose to make a hasty retreat.”

“Never fear, your majesty,” Ringing Bells said, “Princess Celestia told me herself she had a lovely time, and was looking forward to the remainder of the festivities.”

“If I might offer my observations, Slave King,” Arch Duke Fifi le Yipyap said, giving Harmony the evil eye when she smirked at his ruined whiskers. “Nohound would dare leave, no matter how much they wished to.”

“Why do you say that, arch duke?” the Slave King asked, curious why he thought so.

“Our realm is second in importance to Celestia’s,” Yipyap said, offering his analysis of the situation. “Should anyhound leave before the others, they would be at a significant disadvantage should any of your peers decide to engage in politics.”

“So you feel the possibility for the political to occur, would be enough to keep them here?” he asked, intrigued by his logic.

“Among the powerful, Slave King, everything is political,” he replied, with a wry smile. “And since they’re your guests, you have the advantage.”

“I assume that’s why Celestia, the Radiant, hosts the Grand Galloping Gala every year,” the Slave King mused, pulling on his beard thoughtfully.

“Your majesty, watch your beard!” Ringing Bells said, alarmed that her careful grooming was going to be for naught.

Seeing her distress at something so trivial, made him loose his worries for a moment, and made him release a hearty laugh. “My apologies, Ringing Bells,” he said, feeling much better.

“No, your majesty, please forgive me for speaking out of turn,” she apologized. “I’ll admit, ensuring you look your best, has left me a bit frazzled.”

“Your hard work on my behalf, is much appreciated,” he said, offering her a smile.

“Well, it’s not every day you get called to be the royal clothes maker to the king,” she admitted, beaming with pride at his praise. “I’ll do everything within my power to ensure you look the best you can.”

“Slave King, we’re running behind schedule,” Harmony said, giving the others a disapproving look for wasting the Slave King’s limited time with idle gossip.

“It’ll be fine, Harmony, quite a few of my guests are still sleeping off the effects of last night’s drinking,” he said, drinking from his goblet once more. “Everyone, feel free to go get some breakfast.”

Blowing a few black feathers out of her face, she sighed. “Very well, Slave King,” she said, placing the carefully planned schedule in her bag.

“Why don’t you go visit with your mother,” he suggested to her. “I’m sure sharing a meal with her might be enjoyable. You don’t get many opportunities to do so these days.”

“But your schedule!” she objected, worried that he might end up sidetracked by pointless minutia, derailing his carefully planned itinerary for the day.

“We can’t have the inauguration without everyone present, Lady Suzaku included,” he reminded her.

“Promise me you won’t do anything rash,” she pleaded, hoping he wouldn’t cause another interdomain incident.

“I promise to behave myself,” he said with a grin.

His promise of good behavior put her at ease. It was at times like this, where he opened himself to her, that she almost knew what it what it must be like to have a father. Though she never expected him to acknowledge her or her sisters, it was times like these that made serving him worthwhile. “I’ll speak with her, and ensure she’s there on time,” she said, before heading towards her mother’s location.

“Oh, and Harmony,” he said.

“Yes, Slave King?” she asked.

“Tell her, thank you, and that I’m sorry,” he said.

“I will,” Harmony said, leaving him with his entourage.

“It’s so heartwarming,” Ringing Bells said.

“What is?” the Slave King asked.

“The affection you hold for your daughter,” she replied, looking wistfully at him.

“I have no children,” he answered, giving her a sharp look.

“My apologies, your highness,” she said, laying her ears against her head, and pawing at the ground nervously. “I assumed she was your daughter, because of the obvious affection you hold for each other.”

“Enjoy your breakfast,” he brusquely said, trying to change the subject. “I look forward to seeing the clothing you make for me later.”

“Of… of course your majesty,” she nervously replied, not sure what she’d done to annoy him.

Once she’d left with the arch duke, he finished the remainder of his draught. Looking at the empty goblet, he wondered how many others had guessed the connection he held to Harmony and her sisters, not to mention Dawson and the rest. He wondered how much of his refusal to acknowledge them as his, was merely stubborn foolishness, rather than the actual need his situation necessitated.

When he closed his eyes, he could still see Aria’s haunted look of rejection etched into her face, Melody’s longing to be held by her father, Harmony’s heartfelt desire to be a family, and Dawson’s hunger to be accepted as his son. A piece of him desperately wanted to reach out to them, to claim them as his children. But he lacked the courage to do so, he stood to lose so much that he didn’t dare.

“Slave King?” Gunhilde’s voice asked, rousing him from his introspection.

“Yes, what is it?” he said, suddenly feeling a sense of loss he’d only ever known from, Her.

“Shall I refill your cup?” she asked, holding a large bottle containing his draught aloft with her magic.

Though he wished to be alone, he needed his draught to get through the day. Nodding to her once, he held out his goblet. “Please,” he said. As she filled his cup, he looked at her. Though she was one of his newest servants, he felt oddly at ease around her. “Tell me of your parents, Gunhilde.”

When she heard the Slave King’s request, she looked at him strangely. Part of her wanted to berate him for having taken her away from them, but part of her was curious as to why he would even ask. As far as she knew, he cared little for others.

“Well, my family belongs to a minor house,” Gunhilde said, looking up into the Slave King’s magic fueled eyes. “My father is a housecarl serving in Lord Cerynitis’s court, while my mother is a shielddoe of his retinue. But it’s been many winters since either of them last saw battle.

What kind of man was your father?” he asked, nursing his drink.

Man? she wondered. Realizing he meant buck, she thought a moment about her father. She’d been stationed in Bone’s Landing for several years by that point, and hadn’t seen him in a while. “Well, Slave King,” she said. “My father was strict, he expected great things of his fawns.”

“Is that why you served Lord Triton, so far from your homeland?” he asked her.

“No, I uh…” she stammered, thinking back to the last conversation she’d had with him. They’d not left on good terms, she’d always wished she could’ve come back home to apologize, but she’d always put it off until later. And now, it looks like it might be a long time before she’d have the opportunity to. Thinking of her far away home, was starting to make her feeling misty eyed, and sorrowful for her enslavement.

Noticing her silence, he drank once more from his cup. “I’m sure he misses you dearly,” he said, holding out his cup to be filled once more.

When she heard his attempt at sympathizing with her, she wanted to rage at him. She wanted to shout at him, and ask him why he didn’t just let her go, if he was feeling so sorry for her. But instead she said nothing, choosing to bottle up her anger and refilled his cup in silence.

“I might need someone to head north,” he said, looking into the shimmering emerald draught inside his cup. “If you’re amicable to making the trip, Gunhilde, you could be the one to go. If you wanted to see your family then, I’d not object to it.”

Gunhilde nearly dropped the bottle of draught, when she heard the Slave King’s offer. She couldn’t possibly understand his reasons for doing any of this. Why he’d offered her the prestigious position of being his cup bearer, when he could have just as easily made her a tentdoe, given her a portion of his power instead of sending her to the toil in the mines, and now he was making it possible to see her parents.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” she replied, grateful for her good fortune.

“Say yes,” he said. “I need someone to check my northern holdings for me.”

“I’ll do it, Slave King,” she said, bowing low to the ground.

“There’s no need for you to bow and scrape before me,” he said, raising her up from the ground. “I only require for you to fill my cup, nothing more.”

“Why are you doing this?” she asked, unable to fathom the reasons for his behavior.

“Someone’s going to have to go north, it might as well be someone who’s well suited for the cold,” he answered, his stony expression refusing to reveal his true intentions.

Finishing his cup, he looked down at her and gestured towards the dining hall. “Come,” he said, “let’s see how my guests are enjoying their breakfast.”

Without another word, the two of them walked down the hall in silence towards his slumbering guests.

*****

She was nervously pacing before the large mirror in front of her. Looking at her reflection, she was examining her silvery coat and sky blue plumage for imperfections, and wasn’t feeling satisfied with the results of her hours of preening.

“Argh!” she screeched in frustration, raking her sharp talons against the stone floor and leaving deep gashes behind. She eyed herself with a critical gaze, as she flared her wings, fully displaying her gorgeous plumage.

“Zephy love,” her friend asked, placing a wing gently on her shoulder. “You worry too much.”

“Not enough, Zuzu,” Lady Zephyr replied, to the Lady of Summer, and goddess of love. “He’ll never choose me over the others at this rate.”

Lady Suzaku, gave her friend an understanding smile. “And why shouldn’t he?” she asked. “I’ve seen how the Slave King looks at you, part of him desires you greatly.”

“But what about last night?” she objected, her tail twitching nervously, as she imagined all the things her beloved must have done. “I heard he spent much of it alone with Princess Luna.”

“What of it?” Lady Suzaku dismissively replied, looking her friend in the eye. “You should know better than most, it takes more than a single night to win over his heart. We’ve both had centuries, and have yet to do so.”

“But she’s so beautiful and graceful,” Lady Zephyr moaned, wishing she was as svelte as either Celestia or Luna.

“Don’t sell yourself short, Zephy,” she admonished her friend, pointing to her reflection. “You’re powerful and tempestuous. Any who might see you now, would grow flush with desire for your beauty.”

Lady Zephyr sighed. “If only I had more time to win him over,” she said, regretting she’d ran out of time to win him over. “I’m sure we’d have reconciled, once he’d seen Dawson leading my griffons into combat.”

When she heard her mention her son, Lady Suzaku became quiet and withdrawn. “He’s so much like my precious Aria,” she said, thinking of her own children. “She’s so full of fire, and desperately wanting to receive her father’s love and acceptance.”

Sympathizing with her friend’s pain, Lady Zephyr gave her a warm embrace. “It’ll be made right one day,” she said, sharing with her, her hopes for the future. “A few days ago, we fought each other inside the spirit realm.”

“Oh?” Lady Suzaku said, her curiosity piqued at the revelation. “Whatever brought that on?”

“Well…” Lady Zephyr sheepishly replied, looking into her friend’s ruby eyes. “I confronted him regarding how poorly he’d been treating Dawson, and attacked him unprovoked.”

Lady Suzaku knowingly smiled, full aware of how fiery her friend’s temper could sometimes be. “Yet he still leapt to your defense, when that wurm tried provoking you,” she said, still refusing to utter the Fire Tyrant’s name even after all this time.

Remembering how he’d stood between Lord Ouroboros and herself, protecting her from making a fatal mistake, she felt her heart quicken once more with the love she held for him. “Yes he did,” she said, blushing profusely. “If only he loved me, as I love him.”

Wanting to hear the rest of the story, Lady Suzaku prodded her friend. “Sorry for sidetracking you, Zephy,” she said, looking at her expectantly.

Realizing she was acting like a love struck chick, Lady Zephyr decided to finish telling the rest of her story. “Well, once we’d began fighting, I didn’t hold anything back,” she said, recalling the great battle she’d had with her elemental opposite. “Releasing the full extent of my power, I struck him.”

“Then what happened, Zephy?” Lady Suzaku asked, enthralled by the story.

“Well, Zuzu,” she continued, holding up her talons for emphasis. “I suppose the Slave King was prepared for my attack, because when I landed my blow against him, it was as if I’d struck against a mountain. The force of the impact tore us from the waking world and sent us hurtling into the spirit realm.”

“What was he like in his elemental form?” she asked, curious what her one time lover might look like, removed from his flesh.

“Unsurprisingly, very similar to his usual appearance,” Lady Zephyr said with a smile. “His right arm was even made completely from metal.”

“Oh, I wish I could’ve seen him in all his glory,” Lady Suzaku wistfully said. “I’m sure he looked magnificent.”

“He truly was, Zuzu,” Lady Zephyr replied, blushing once more. “Had I not been so angry at the time, I might have pounced on him right there and then.”

When she saw her friend’s blushing smile, Lady Suzaku knew exactly what’d happened. “You did though, didn’t you?” she teased, immensely enjoying their gossip.

Having been found out, Lady Zephyr nodded once. “Once I had fought him to a standstill, he thought to overpower me in his pure elemental form, and held me tight,” she said, remembering the fond memories of her beloved. “But I assumed the form of my pure essence, bound myself to him, and sang the song of creation to him.”

“Oh, Zephy, how romantic!” the excitable phoenix dreamily cooed, wishing she could experience that with him for herself. “Did he reciprocate?”

“Yes,” she admitted, sighing in delight as she relived the fond memory. “There, he finally shared his heart with me for the first time.”

Realizing the significance of such an occurrence, Lady Suzaku’s eyes grew moist as her heart overfilled with joy that he was finally capable of loving somefeather back. Though she was overjoyed that he was finally able to express his love, she felt forlorn that she hadn’t been the one he’d shared himself with. “I’m so happy for you, Zephy love,” she said, trying unsuccessfully to hide her envy.

Seeing her friend’s hidden hurt, she drew her into a tight embrace. “Zuzu, he cares enough to provide a place for your daughters,” she said. “One day, he’ll finally have room enough for us all.”

“I know, Zephy,” she sighed, resting her head against her friend’s silken coat. “I just wish things could be as they once were. Just the two of us sharing him between us. Not having to worry that one of the others would swoop in, to steal him away for their own selfish purposes.”

Thinking about how stubborn he could be, Lady Zephyr smiled. “Oh, Zuzu,” she said. “I think the others will be sorely mistaken if they think they can easily bend him to their will, just by shaking their flanks in his face.”

“Tell me about it, Zephy,” Lady Suzaku complained, thinking back to yesterday’s events. “Had Lady Minoa been any more flagrant in her lustful display, she would have attempted making him mount her publicly.”

“Though hands are lovely,” Lady Zephyr said. “He definitely prefers feathers.”

“Yeah,” Lady Suzaku agreed, vowing not to be beaten by that slutty cow, spread out her gorgeous plumage before the mirror. “We’ll show them all!”

Before Lady Zephyr could respond, a knock was heard at the door. “Come in,” Lady Suzaku said.

To her delight, when the door opened it revealed none other than her daughter Harmony, standing on the other side. When she saw her child, her eyes lit up excitedly, and she rushed over to shower her daughter with affection.

“Oh, Harmony love,” she said, kissing her daughter affectionately and pulling her into a loving embrace. “What a delightful surprise, how’s your father doing?”

When Harmony heard her mother calling the Slave King her father, she frowned. “Mother, it’s disrespectful referring to the Slave King as my father,” she said, breaking away from her mother’s iron grip. “He has no children.”

Hearing her daughter parroting the Slave King’s nonsense, nearly broke her heart. “Harmony love,” she said, trying to gently correct her daughter’s erroneous claim. “All the feathered folk tribe are the product of the union between myself and a wayfarer.”

“Yes,” Harmony agreed. “But that wayfarer wasn’t the Slave King.”

“He most certainly was, young lady!” she replied, feeling hurt that her own flesh and blood refused to acknowledge the truth. “Your father might deny it all he wants, but the truth is…”

“The truth is, the Slave King has no children,” she interrupted, obstinately refusing to accept what her mother was saying.”

As she saw them bickering, Lady Zephyr felt a twinge of sorrow. To spare himself the pain of rejection, would Dawson accept the same lies? she wondered.

“See reason, Harmony love,” Lady Suzaku pleaded, desperately wishing her daughter would finally believe her.

“See, this is why I never come to visit, mother,” Harmony said, closing her eyes and massaging her temples as the desire to become violent, began overtaking her.

Feeling hurt and betrayed, Lady Suzaku withdrew from her child. “Alright, Harmony love, if that’s what you prefer to believe,” she said, hurting that her own child wouldn’t believe her. “I won’t argue about this any further.”

Harmony looked at her distraught mother, and felt slightly guilty about how she’d reacted. Though she loved her greatly, it vexed her to no end to endlessly continue having this argument with her, whenever she spent time with her. Reaching out, she hugged the teary eyed phoenix. “I love you, mother,” she whispered, laying her head against her shoulder.

“I love you too, my hatchling,” she said, forgetting the hurt and grateful for the chance to be able to hold her close once more.

Seeing the tender scene before her, suddenly made her realize how greatly she missed her son. She longed to hold him, kiss him, and tell him how much she loved him. “Zuzu,” she wistfully said, “I’m going to look for Dawson. I’ll see you at the inauguration later today.”

“Alright,” she replied, enjoying the chance to shower her daughter with love and affection.

Once they were alone, she looked up at her daughter and smiled. “So, Harmony love, not that I’m complaining, but what brings you here?” she asked, curious why her daughter would’ve left the Slave King’s side at such a busy time. “Normally, your fath… er, the Slave King keeps you on a pretty tight leash.”

“The Slave King decided to abandon his schedule,” she said, still feeling slightly miffed that her carefully crafted itinerary was being ignored for no good reason. “He asked me to make sure you were still coming today.”

When she heard that he’d not only been concerned for her well-being, but that he’d been thoughtful enough to send somefeather to ensure she’d be in attendance as well, her heart melted. “Oh, he does care,” she sighed, grateful for the attention he’d seen fit to give her.

When she saw her mother gushing over her liege’s attention, Harmony shook her head sadly, concerned for her mother’s unhealthy obsession over him. “Yes, he also thought I should eat breakfast with you, since I’ve not visited with you in quite some time,” she added, dreading the conversation that would most undoubtedly follow.

Though she loved her mother dearly, Harmony always felt she was too concerned with frivolity. Though she was the court magister for the Domain of Earth, considered one of the most influential members of the Slave King’s court, and personally responsible for running one of the greatest economies in all Equestria, all her mother ever asked her about was how her personal life was. It was almost as if all her accomplishments meant nothing! Who cared if she was still single, she controlled millions in bits, and possessed magic that put many unicorns to shame.

“Come, Harmony, let’s eat,” Lady Suzaku said, looking forward to spending some time with her youngest child.

“Yes, mother,” she wearily replied. As she followed after her towards the kitchens to get their breakfast, she saw the loving look her mother gave her, and warmly smiled in return. Though she was loathe to admit it, she found herself looking forward to being able to forget all about her other worries. When she was with her mother, she found that all the things she considered so important a few minutes ago, were fading away.

Lady Suzaku saw Harmony’s worried face relax, and gave her shoulder a small squeeze. “I’ve missed you so,” she said, giving her child an affectionate smile.

“I’ve missed you as well,” Harmony replied, grateful that the Slave King had insisted she spend some time with her mother. Here, she didn’t have to worry about her king causing another incident, or about the many guests that might be squabbling over some petty dispute. Opening the door to the dining hall, she contentedly sighed, perfectly happy to leave the worries of court intrigue behind, for at least the next half hour.

However, before she could sit down to enjoy a hearty breakfast of pancakes, the angry voices of Lord Triton and Lady Minoa, made her drop her fork in surprise. Looking towards the quarreling deities, she knew that eating breakfast with her mother would have to wait. With a heavy heart, she offered her apologies, before heading over to them, to prevent things from escalating any further.

Looking back towards her mother, and her uneaten breakfast, she inwardly seethed how fate always conspired against her. Placing herself between the unruly gods, she glared at each of them, and demanded, “What’s going on here?”

*****

Scourge was traveling through the hidden paths of the palace, which were known to only a select few. He needed to reach, The Vendetta’s, resting place, without anyhound seeing him. Ordinarily, he’d have entered through the manufactorium and headed down, deep into bowels of the earth, to reach the treasury. But unfortunately for his task, the dragon-half Ignatius and his numerous siblings made their home amongst the manufactorium’s forges and the Slave King’s numerous exotic machines. Though he’d seen those mechanical marvels many times, he had no idea what any of the machines purposes were. He only knew that vast quantities of arcanum and crystals from the north, had been the primary materials used in their construction and maintenance.

But the existence of the strange machines there weren’t his primary concern. Should any of the dragon-halfs see him, they’d would surely wish to speak with him, and word might spread he’d been seen entering the vast foundry. Thus, he was forced to enter the treasury through lesser known paths. Fortunate for him, but unfortunate for the pegasus treasure hunter that had managed to find her way inside, there was a hidden passage that led to the treasury. The intruder had discovered, The Vendetta, and thought to claim it for herself. Once the thief’s cries of terror had alerted everyhound to her presence, all they managed to find of her, were her shredded remains. As a testament to the grim weapon’s voracity, all it’d left behind of the pony adventurer had been bloody gore, brown feathers, and grey hairs, which they’d been forced to clean up for weeks afterward.

When the Slave King had found out what’d happened, he simply placed the unassuming artifact back on its pedestal and left his servants to their cleaning. One would think that the most dangerous weapon in existence would’ve be more heavily guarded. But when that weapon is, The Vendetta, it’s capable of providing its own security.

The weapon was so terrible in its forging, that its creation nearly cracked the earth. The weapon was manufactured from a piece of divinity from each of the four Prime Elements, and nearly claimed the life of the one who’d forged it. The weapon possessed such power, that it’s said that even the gods tremble in fear, should it ever be raised against them. So great is its power, that in a single night, it claimed the souls of an entire city. The weapon slew them with such a fury, that it was cursed to bare the enmity of their rage for all time. It’s said, that none living may touch, The Vendetta, and survive, for so terrible is the weapon’s curse, it devours all, but the most pure of heart.

It was this fearful task, which Scourge needed to perform. He had to steal his master’s most powerful artifact, without being discovered. And somehow manage to keep it away from him, until Princess Celestia had managed to enact her plan. Though he knew his actions would ultimately save his friend’s life, he still felt guilty betraying him in this way. Lowering his head, he stepped out of the palace and into the ruins of the Diamond Vale.

Though not as dangerous as it once was, the ruined city was home to all matter of vile creatures. From the skeletal shuffling remains of the undead, to the wailing banshees, and the spectral forms of cunning liches and single-minded wights; the ruins of the city contained all the horrors known to scholars, and a few they didn’t. Although few of the denizens that dwelt here gave him pause, he preferred avoiding them whenever possible. These unfortunates were trapped between life and death. As one who’d once seen the Summerlands with his own eyes, it was difficult seeing them, knowing they would forever be denied that paradise.

Traveling through the cracked streets and between the broken buildings, he knew he was getting close to the secret entrance to the treasury. It’d once been an aqueduct that brought water to the palace. But even before the Slave King had assumed his throne, it’d fallen into disuse and had apparently been forgotten by everyhound. It wasn’t until the Pegasus adventurer had discovered the passageway, and been slain by, The Vendetta, that anyhound was made aware of its existence. But instead of blocking it off like he’d been urged to by Scourge and the others, the Slave King decided to leave it alone.

He was thankful that his master hadn’t chosen to listen to him. It would’ve made accessing the treasury all the more difficult. Approaching the aqueduct’s hidden entrance, Scourge placed his paws against the access’s hidden switches, and waited as the false stone wall moved away, revealing the hidden passageway to him.

Stepping into the darkness, he silently walked forward, illuminating the way with the blue ethereal light of his spirit. It was peaceful and quiet inside, and felt comforting. None of the terrors found in the ruined city had ever managed to infest the aqueduct, and so none of the evil miasma that attracted them could be found. As he walked, it reminded him of happier times. Drawing closer to his destination, he thought back to when he’d first met his liege. How fierce and terrible he’d once been. But over the years, his rough exterior had been smoothed, and now he stood as a strong and proud leader of his people. A worthy successor to his predecessor in every way, and an equal, to the fierce Lord Darkpaw.

He wondered, had Lord Darkpaw still lived, would the realm be as strong as it was under the Slave King? Though he’d fervently worshiped the fallen deity like the rest of his kin, Darkpaw had allowed the excesses of the corrupt nobility to run unchecked. It’d been fair to say, they’d wrought their destruction by their own paws. Had they not been so cruel, the Slave King might have spared them his wrath. Thinking of the task at paw, he knew his sacrifice would prevent much suffering, and steeled himself to complete his objective.

Buried deep in thought, he nearly tripped over the shadowy form of Nightmare. He was about to curse his luck, when he remembered why she was here, rather than by her master’s side. She’d been banished from the palace, when Second had goaded her into attacking Princess Luna unprovoked. Looking at her, he saw she was forlorn and depressed. Though she might normally issue a challenge to any that crossed her path, today she listlessly stared into the darkness, ignoring him completely in the throes of her depression.

As he passed her, he saw her look up at him, before turning her gaze away. In that moment, her eyes seemed to ask, Have you come to mock me as well?

Knowing she’d attack him once he returned this way with, The Vendetta, in his possession, he decided he needed to convince her to leave. “Nightmare,” he said, his commanding voice echoing throughout the aqueduct. “The Slave King wants you to patrol the old city. There’s been sightings of bogledeboos in the old market.”

When she heard that her master still had a task for her to perform, she stood, as her ears perked up. Though she only cared for the Slave King, if there was any other worthy of her respect, it would be Scourge. Lowering her head to him in gratitude for bring her the request, she rolled her shoulders and bounded off into the darkness to serve her master once more.

Once she was safely out of sight, he continued his trek towards the treasury and, The Vendetta. Though he was opposed to lying on principal, in this case, he felt it was appropriate. Seeing Nightmare wallowing in despair as a victim of his treason, pricked his conscience. Though she was his enemy in this scheme, as a loyal servant of the Slave King, she didn’t deserve to be treated in this way. He just hoped, that she’d be occupied long enough for him to complete his task unopposed.

The darkness of the tunnel began to give way to the soft golden light of the treasury. Though he possessed wealth beyond measure, the Slave King had left the mountains of treasure in vast piles, unguarded by anything or anyhound. The great hall possessed enough wealth to feed the vast appetites of over ten thousand greedy dragons for a thousand years, and still be more than half full. The tales of Lord Ouroboros’s great horde in the Firehold, was the stuff of legends. But the wealth contained within the Slave King’s treasury, made that mighty hoard seem but a thimbleful compared to his master’s vast ocean of wealth.

But uncaring for the golden treasure, rare gems, and even rarer magical artifacts scattered about, Scourge walked to the heart of the great treasury, where the true treasures lied. Neatly arranged on pedestals, were all matter of strange and curious objects. From the mundane to the exotic, artifacts of all kinds were laid with care. He passed by a blood red breastplate, said to be capable of protecting its user from even the hottest of flames, shoes capable of granting their wearer flight, and even a stone capable of shielding you from magic with evil intent. Though useful, he doubted the armor would protect him from the flames of his master’s rage, and there was no place he could run to avoid his master’s hand. As for the stone, it wouldn’t do him any good, because this was an evil he’d brought upon himself.

Next he passed by various weapons and tools. Undoubtedly, each was an object of great worth, but their power paled in comparison to what, The Vendetta, promised. Beside the magical blades and finely crafted hammers, he saw six unassuming gems. Though each was beautifully cut, their size and luster was as dross, compared to any of the other magnificent gemstones found elsewhere in the treasury. Each gem was dark, almost as if they were waiting for something to unleash the beauty and potential within them. Though they seemed to whisper to him, he hadn’t the time to consider their worth, and continued to his true objective.

It was there that he saw it, floating above the pedestal it rested on. He knew there was no traps guarding it, no magical wards protecting it. It was free for the taking, one only needed to reach out and claim it. Though he’d died once already, and didn’t fear the grave. Part of him was apprehensive, he’d no idea what would happen should he touch it. But knowing he had no other choice, he reached forth his paw, and grabbed, The Vendetta, the Slayer of Gods.

*****

Never had he felt so violated, and under the care of his host no less. Though his memory was still a bit foggy, the things he remembered happening last night, made his blood boil. That obnoxious minotauress had managed to rob him of his virtue, while he was under the influence of the Slave King’s tainted wine. Though he normally practiced moderation in eating and drinking, the revelry of last night’s feasting had loosened his resolve. As a result, he’d drank in excess of what a proper knight should. Now, to his everlasting shame, he’d publicly violated the very principals he’d asked each of his knights to live by, with that provocative temptress.

Looking to the chaste chevaleresse that served him as his shield maidens, he blanched, knowing they’d discovered him in such a compromising and deplorable condition. How they must be despairing, knowing he’d failed to uphold the same standard he expected each of them to live by. It would be centuries, before his tarnished honor would be restored, and he could ask any to swear oaths in his name.

Looking at her, he knew exactly why she’d been successful in tarnishing his good name. Everything about her, from her clothing and jewelry, to her perfume and make up were by fiendish design, to seduce and enflame a male’s passion. Even now he could feel the lure of her body calling to him to lay with her once more. Never! Immorality and debauchery had no place in his heart, and only chastity and temperance were welcome there.

But now, he found himself in quite the quandary. Normally, when somepony tarnished his honor, a duel would be the appropriate response. But his chivalrous nature wouldn’t allow him to strike a mare, no matter how angry he might be. Though he was loathe to admit it, he’d only one recourse left to him now.

“Lady Minoa,” he seethed, the anger he felt for her part in the loss of his honor was nearly palpable, and restraining himself was taking every ounce of his willpower. “I’d have words with you.”

When she heard his challenge, she wanted to laugh in the blowhard’s face. However, his actions against her person last night were unforgivable. Though from time to time, she wasn’t above enjoying a night of passionate lovemaking with her fellow deities. But he’d tasted the fruit of her garden without her express permission, and needed to be punished for his trespass. Until she decided otherwise, the pleasures her body offered were only for her future husband to enjoy, and notaurus else. She’d thought herself safe in the Lawgiver’s care in her inebriated state. He was such a prude, she’d been sure that he’d not have any interest in lying with her. But how wrong she’d been, last night in drunken lust, he’d exhausted himself laying siege and assaulting her keep nearly a dozen times over, before falling asleep in her arms.

Thinking back to what they’d done together, made even the libertine Lady of Spring blush with shame. Had this been any other place or time, she’d have shrugged things off, and forgotten it. But he’d taken liberties with her in their host’s home, in front of their fellow deities and mortals alike, and had sullied her chances at beguiling and seducing the Slave King, before the others had managed to do so. Such an affront to her pride couldn’t be ignored, and so Lady Minoa decided that Lord Triton needed to be dealt with.

Snorting with rage, she stomped her hoof and shook her horns menacingly. “Lord Triton,” she growled, feeling the tension between them threatening to snap. “I have more than words to offer you.”

By now, every pair of eyes in the dining hall, both mortal and divine alike, were fixed squarely on the two furious gods. It was to this scene that Celestia and Luna witnessed, before they could enjoy their breakfast. That Harmony abandoned her mother’s side to place herself in harm’s way, so she could diffuse the volatile situation. That Lord Ouroboros and Lord Cerynitis looked on in amusement, as their fellow deities threatened to tear each other apart. That Dawson, Dame Squall, and Melody, watched unfold in horrified fascination. And that the Slave King came upon, as he checked up on his guests.

*****

“This is most irregular, Celestia!” Lord Triton shouted, as he was being restrained by her and several other deities’ magic.

“Lord Triton,” she firmly replied, giving him a sympathetic look. “You’ve been accused of forcing yourself on another.”

“This is an outrage,” he said, struggling to free himself. “If anyone was wronged in this matter, it was me!”

“All lies!” Lady Minoa screeched, trying her hardest to escape the magic restraining her, so she could pound the Lord of Water with her powerful fists.

“Lady Minoa, behave yourself,” Celestia crossly said, giving her a disapproving look for acting like a filly.

“Not until I have satisfaction,” she seethed, giving Celestia a hard look, before looking Lord Triton squarely in the eye.

“Madam, and I say that generously,” he spat, grinding his teeth in anger. “That’s my line!”

“We think that thou shalt need to call a moot,” Luna said to her sister, as she struggled to keep Lady Minoa restrained.

“I think not,” the Slave King said, giving both of them a careful look. “The supposed crimes occurred in my home. It’s my responsibility to cast judgment in this matter.”

“Is that true, Triton?” Celestia asked, looking at the Slave King thoughtfully.

“Yes it is,” he said, ceasing his struggles. “Since this is his domain, any declaration of wrong doing is his judgment to make.”

Turning to look at her, Celestia looked into her golden eyes for a moment. “Lady Minoa, do you agree to abide by the Slave King’s judgment in this matter?”

Giving the Slave King a sultry look, she smiled suggestively. Perhaps she could turn last night’s misfortune to her benefit. “I’ll accept his wise and fair ruling,” she said, brushing a few locks of her green hair away from her eyes.

“Since it was my wine that caused their quarrel, I’ll make amends,” he said, much to everyone’s surprise. “Does that meet with both of your approval?”

“I suppose so,” Lord Triton said, feeling slightly ashamed that he’d let things go so far. “We can discuss my restitution later.”

The Slave King nodded in agreement. “Very well, Lord Triton,” he said, offering the Lawgiver his hand to seal their pact. Looking at Lady Minoa, he gave her a questioning look. “Do you also agree to accept my offer?”

Licking her lips hungrily, she grabbed the Slave King’s outstretched hand and pulled him close to her. Before he could react, she kissed him hard, biting his lip and drawing blood. “I look forward to collecting the rest of my payment later,” she coyly said.

He ran his tongue over his bleeding lips, and glowered at the minotauress. He could taste her essence mingling with the coppery flavor of his blood, as the lingering hint of her musky perfume filled his nostrils. The results from the stimuli were instantaneous, he felt himself burning with lust, as he hungrily undressed her with his eyes. He felt reason abandon him, as his primal instincts robbed him of his good sense. He was about to claim her, when he saw a half filled bottle of his draught levitated in front of him. Roughly snatching it, he questioningly looked at it.

“Slave King, you’re bleeding,” Gunhilde said, directing his attention to the bottle he held in his hand. “It’ll heal your wound.”

Looking at the bottle in his hand, and then again at the female he fiercely desired. He removed the bottle’s stopper with his teeth, spat it out, and drank deeply from the draught. As the refreshing emerald elixir, passed his lips, and flowed down his gullet; the burning lust assaulting him quickly subsided, and he found himself in control of his faculties once more.

Returning the nearly empty bottle to Gunhilde, he looked at her appreciatively. “You have my thanks, my cup bearer,” he said, before turning his attention towards his sultry and sensual guest. “Lady Minoa, the Feral, I trust that you’ll refrain from assaulting me further, in the future?”

Running her tongue suggestively against her full lips, she mischievously smiled at him. “If that’s your desire, Slave King,” she innocently said, inhaling deeply, and offering him an ample opportunity to ogle her breasts. “Perhaps later, you can assault me someplace more intimate and cozy, such as your private quarters, hmm?”

Before he could answer her, Princess Luna placed herself between them, and offered her a disparaging look. “Lady Minoa, we ask thee to cease this shameful display,” she said, admonishing her for her wanton behavior. “The Slave King is our host, tis improper to abuse his generosity so and treat his home like unto a tawdry bordello.”

The Lady of Spring sneered dismissively at her accusations, and leaned lustily against the Slave King. Running a finger against his chest, she nearly reignited his lust as he backed away from her sensual touch. “I think you’re simply jealous, Luna, that you failed to rouse his passions like I have,” she taunted, thrusting her bosom forward to accentuate her point.

When Luna heard Minoa’s response, she butted her head against the minotauress. “Thou, wicked trollop!” she cried out, baring her teeth at her in anger.

In response to her insult, Minoa parried against Luna’s horn with her own brass covered horns. Sparks flew, as the two powerful goddesses fought each other over the unspoken right to claim the Slave King for their own.

“Please stop!” Celestia pleaded with them, trying to use her magic to break apart the quarreling deities.

“I see, King, that you’ve been making friends everywhere,” Lord Ouroboros said with a chuckle.

Looking away from the celestial cat fight between goddesses, the Slave King shot the Fire Tyrant a pointed look. “Silence, elemental,” he said, before turning away from his rival.

“You’d better watch your back, man-thing,” he threatened, giving him the evil eye.

“Try me, and I’ll give you a double portion of what you received last time,” the Slave King bitterly replied.

“So, Ignatius and his kin aren’t enough for you?” Ouroboros insinuated, pointing a flaming finger at the Slave King.

“We agreed to never speak of that again!” the Slave King hissed, agitated that he might reveal what happened when they’d last fought.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Slave King,” he disingenuously apologized. “I’m afraid that was a slip of the tongue.”

“Gentlestallions,” Lord Triton said, interrupting them. “Slave King, I think we should convene now, before any more fights break out.”

Grateful for a chance to escape from the discussion he was holding with Lord Ouroboros, he nodded his head in agreement. “Yes, Lawgiver, that would be a prudent decision,” he said. Looking at Princess Celestia, he noticed that she’d finally managed to separate her sister and Lady Minoa from each other. “Celestia, the Radiant, now that you’ve finally managed to separate your sister from Minoa, the Feral, I suggest we begin my inauguration ceremony, before anyone else decides to get in on the fun.”

“I agree, Slave King. I think there’s been enough distractions for one day, don’t you agree, Luna,” she said, giving her sister a hard look as she emphasized her name.

Lowering her head in contrition, Luna gave Lady Minoa a sour look. “Forgive us, Slave King,” she said. “We allowed our passionate defense of thine honor, to remove our temperance.”

“You sure did, Luna,” Minoa remarked, before getting annoyed looks from the celestial sisters. “Fine, fine, I’m sorry for making a scene with the royal stick in the mud.”

“Thou cretin!” Luna hotly said, before having her mouth forcefully closed by Celestia’s magic.

“Alright, I take it back,” Minoa said, holding up her hands in defeat.

“That’s much better,” Celestia said, pleased that there was still some semblance of harmony among the members of the pantheon. Turning to the Slave King, she nodded at him to lead the way.

Opening a portal with his magic, he gestured for his multitude of guests to enter. Looking at Harmony and Melody, he waved them over with his hand. “See to it, that their servants don’t finish what their master’s started,” he said, gesturing to his fellow deities and then to their entourages, before entering the portal and closing it behind him.

“So what should we do?” Melody asked her sister, as the various mortal servants of the gods, seemed intent on avenging the various slights done to their patron deities.

“I’m not sure,” she said, never having had to deal with so many different factions at once. “Isn’t Aria supposed to be in charge of security, why isn’t she doing something?”

“I don’t rightfully know, I haven’t seen her anywhere,” Melody replied, stroking her chin thoughtfully.

“Keep them from starting a brawl, until I bring Aria and Master Scourge back,” Harmony said, while muttering to herself about how she wasn’t being paid enough to deal with this.

Seeing her sister’s agitation, Melody looked for somefeather to help round up their missing sibling. “Oh, Harmony,” she sang, as she had a brilliant idea.

“Yeah?” Harmony replied.

“Take Dawson, with you,” she said, pointing to their half-brother.

“Who me?” he asked, stepping away from some very angry looking chevaleresse who seemed to be looking for a fight to restore their liege lord’s honor.

“Yes you, silly!” she said, pulling him over. “Dawson, would you be a dear and accompany Harmony as she retrieves our wayward sister?” she sweetly asked. “Besides, it’ll be good for the two of you to get formally acquainted. We’re family after all.”

Harmony gave her sister a pointed look. “There’s no way he’s my brother,” she said, denying the implications of having Dawson for a sibling. “If I wasn’t sure we come from the same mother, I’d say I had no sisters either.”

“Oh you,” Melody replied, giving her a teasing smile. “By the way, Harmony, how should I keep everyfeather occupied, until your return?”

Rolling her eyes in exasperation, she shook her head in annoyance. “I don’t know, Melody, try improvising something. Just don’t let anyfeather go crazy,” she said, before motioning for Dawson to follow her out of the dining hall.

Melody looked worriedly at the dozens of restless ponies, diamond dogs, seaponies, and various other races that were feeling the itch to fight. “So is um… anyfeather up for a game of charades?” she asked, hoping to keep them distracted until Master Scourge and Aria returned, to enforce the peace.

“Try to keep up, Dawson. Or should I say Dustin?” Harmony asked, giving him a pointed look.

When confronted by her for his earlier deception, he gave her a sheepish smile. “Sorry, Harmony, Melody suggested it, so I could compete,” he said, explaining his reasons for concealing his identity.

Before they could leave dining hall, Dame Squall floated towards them. “Might I join you?” she asked Harmony.

“Won’t your sisters take offense to seeking the companionship of mudslingers?” she testily replied.

“Master Scourge told me in the sorrow of my defeat, that our master’s quarrels needn’t be ours,” Dame Squall answered, looking directly into Harmony’s piercing green eyes. “It wasn’t until today, that I understood the wisdom of his words.”

When she heard her reasons for wanting to join them, her hard features softened. “Alright, Dame Squall, you may accompany us,” she said, walking out of the hall and towards Aria’s and Master Scourge’s quarters. “Perhaps if we can see past our differences, the rest of them might as well.”

Thinking of the irony of their situation, Dawson let out a small chuckle. Both Harmony and Dame Squall gave him a questioning look.

“I think it’s a bit funny,” he said, gesturing to their group.

“What is, Dawson?” Dame Squall asked.

“That members of the three most warlike races, are united towards a common goal like ponies,” he said. “All we need is a dragon in our ranks, and we’d be all set.”

“While a dragon might be overkill for fetching somefeather… wait!” Harmony said, before falling silent and holding up a finger to her beak to ensure the others did the same.

They were near Aria’s quarters, and noticed that her door was ajar. Moving stealthily towards it, Harmony focused on her innate elemental magic, and motioned for the others to ready themselves for anything. Slowly opening the door, she scowled when she saw Aria lying unconscious, while a translucent ghast was attempting to feed on her slowly fading life force.

When the ghast saw new prey entering the room, it opened its gaping maw, hungry for more. Though ghasts were members of the ghost family, and as insubstantial as mist. They were amongst the most deadly of apparitions. Unlike their ghost and poltergeist cousins, ghasts actively sought out the living to drain them of their life forces. Though the wards protecting the Slave King’s palace were nearly impenetrable to the horrors of the dead city, from time to time, some of hated fiends would find their way inside. Absent of magic or weapons forged from arcanum, there was no known way to defeat such creatures. The ghast, seeing that its new prey was unarmed, reached for them with its spectral tentacles, intent on adding them to its feast.

Though she’d attacked him unprovoked earlier, Dawson knew Melody would be inconsolable should Aria die. Unwilling to abandon the familial ties he’d forged over the past week, he felt a fury unlike any other he’d known. She was his sister, his kin, and he’d protect her. Balling up his right talon into a fist, he drew it back and prepared to release the full fury of the Domain of Air on the wicked creature that dared to harm his family.

Even before reaching the door, she knew something was very wrong. Though she was only a chevaleresse, and not a full-fledged knight, she could sense the evil inside that room. When the door was opened, she instinctually pulled back in revulsion at what she saw. It was one of the undead horrors, from the Diamond Vale ruins. Seeing Aria near death’s door, at the fin of such a creature, filled her with righteous fury. Although she was unarmed, she uttered a silent prayer to the Lawgiver, and prepared to send the beast back to the Pit, from whence it came.

Even though she didn’t really get along with her, as sisters, they shared an unbreakable bond. Though Aria had seen plenty of combat, as far as she knew, she’d never been this close to dying. Forced for the first time, to face the possibility of losing her sister to the Summerlands, her green eyes flashed with dark power. With a guttural cry of rage, Harmony the Black, drew upon the power of the shadows, and showed the monstrosity exactly how she’d earned her title.

*****

“I hope you’ve found the accommodations to your liking,” the Slave King said, gesturing to large chamber he’d constructed for this occasion. The large room was in the form of an oval, lined with large multicolored crystals that provided illumination for his guests. Seating designed for each of their unique builds had been provided, while he’d fashioned a stone throne for himself. Sitting directly across from him, Princess Celestia patiently sat while wearing an enigmatic smile. The seating had been arranged, so that those he felt most likely to make attempts on his life, had been placed as far from him as possible.

In his paranoia, he’d prepared multiple access points into the chamber, beyond the three meeting rooms Celestia had asked for. From his throne, he had easy access to the manufactorium, his treasury, several hidden avenues of escape, and even a ley line to the Well of Eternity itself. If Celestia was determined to kill him, he felt confident in his ability to strike back with a fatal blow if needed.

“Slave King,” Celestia said, bowing her head and offering him a serene smile. “I speak for myself, and the rest of the pantheon, when I say you've been an impeccable host.”

“Here, here!” Lord Triton shouted, pounding against his armrests appreciatively. “I’d say with the exception of this morning’s earlier kerfuffle, your inauguration has gone swimmingly.”

“I sense, Celestia, the Radiant, that you wish to make an unexpected announcement regarding my inauguration,” the Slave King cautiously said.

Celestia opened her mouth to answer him, but before she could speak, pink clouds formed above their heads. With a crack of lightning, Discord, the Scion of Chaos, appeared in all his chaotic glory, exploding in a shower of confetti and glitter beneath a flashing disco ball. He was wearing a garish party hat on top of his slicked back mane, while a pair of oversized sunglasses were perched on his muzzle. He was wearing a zebra striped leisure suit and pink shirt, with a thick gold chain around his neck, that bore the letter D, while dancing to a horrible noise that couldn’t justifiably be called music.

After he was sure he’d annoyed everypony sufficiently, he snapped his talons, silencing the discordant music, and unfurled giant banners behind him that displayed, Happy Five Hundredth, Slave King, in exaggerated letters.

“Surprised to see me, Slave King?” he asked, blowing a party favor in his face. As the blowout expanded fully, it made an obnoxious thweeping noise.

“Discord, how dare you interrupt these proceedings,” Celestia sternly said, worried that her carefully laid plans were about to be derailed by the unpredictable god of chaos. “How in Equestria, did you manage to escape your stone prison?”

Snapping his talons, he teleported in front of her, and booped her nose. “That’s for me to know, and you to find out, princess,” he said with a mischievous grin. “But to answer your question, this is too auspicious an occasion for me to miss.”

Lord Triton, well aware of Celestia’s plan, gave the trickster a stern look. “Discord,” he lectured, “you were banished from attending all interdomain events unanimously by the entire pantheon. You have no right to be here.”

“Oh, Triton, why so serious? Did you wake up on the wrong side of the reef?” Discord asked, while leering at Lady Minoa. “Or maybe it was in the wrong bed?”

“Discord!” Triton shouted, feeling his blood pressure rising.

“No wonder you’ve been celibate for over a century,” he replied, whispering to the rest of the Pantheon. “You’ve got no sense of humor.”

Though he was enjoying the barbs at their expense, the Slave King was worried that this meeting might descend into pandemonium if he continued annoying the others. “Discord,” he said. “Why have you come?”

“Well to be honest, I don’t get out much, and this celebration seems like it’s much too fun to pass up,” he replied. “But, had I known what you had planned for last night, I’d have come much sooner.”

“Discord, I meant, why here, and why now?” he asked, wondering if the trickster god had come to his aid.

“Discord…” Celestia warned, channeling magic into her horn.

Seeing how angry he’d made her, he rolled his eyes, snapped his talons, and sat down in a large recliner that had materialized behind him. “Don’t worry, Celestia,” he said, with a small chuckle. “I won’t spoil the surprise, I’m only here to watch things unfold.”

“That still doesn’t explain how you overcame your banishment, Discord,” Triton said.

Snapping his paw, Discord summoned a large book in front of him labeled, Da Rules. Removing a pair of reading glasses from his leisure suit’s front pocket, he put them on the bridge of his snout, licked his talon, and leafed through the pages of the large tome. “Ah yes, the unanimous decree clause,” he said, clearing his throat. “Article forty-seven, sub-section twenty-seven, paragraph six, line four, states, and I quote.”

Whatsoever accord or decree shall be reached by unanimous consent, by the Pantheon in its entirety, excluding accused parties or plaintiffs, shall be considered binding by the power of the moot.

Having finished reading, Da Rules, Discord closed the book, put away his reading glasses, and threw the heavy tome over his shoulder as it exploded into a shower of papers. “So, as you can see, Lawgiver,” he smugly said. “I’m within my legal rights to attend the Slave King’s inauguration.”

“That’s impossible,” Lord Triton grumbled, angry that the law was somehow being subverted by Discord for some nefarious purpose.

“No, that’s a loophole,” he corrected, sticking out his tongue at the Lawgiver as far as it could go.

When he realized what he’d meant, the Slave King released a boisterous laugh. Because he’d never agreed to prevent Discord from attending his functions, the unanimous consent clause had no power here. Seeing the looks of consternation on much of the pantheon’s faces, he gave the trickster a stern look. “Discord, you can stay,” he said. “But mind yourself, or I’ll have to banish you as well,”

“Oh, ho, ho, Slave King, you won’t regret it, I promise you,” he said, pleased that he was being allowed to stay.

Knowing he was bested once more, Lord Triton bit his tongue and waited for Celestia’s justice to fall upon the Slave King’s head. Though suffering so many humiliations this week was hard to bare, he’d have his vindication once the Lord of Earth received his comeuppance.

Celestia looked at Discord, and sighed. The draconequus was an unknown element, which threatened to unravel everything she’d worked so hard to achieve. Though she felt placated by his promise to behave himself, she had no idea how he would truly behave.

Deciding to ignore the trickster for now, she focused her attention towards the Slave King. “With the arrival of your five hundredth year as Lord of the Earth,” she said, offering him a warm smile. “Your fellow deities, and I, wish to welcome you to adulthood, and recognize you as our brother and equal.”

“I don’t understand, Celestia, the Radiant,” the Slave King confusedly said, as she focused her magic into her horn.

“Stand and be recognized, Slave King,” she said, lowering her horn and approaching him.

Standing up, his muscles tensed, as he prepared to fight for his life. Silently, he cursed himself for not having the forethought to leave one of the prototypes nearby. With her so close to him, the only choice left to him now, was to wait for her to strike with her horn first, and hope to somehow deflect her attack.

Looking at him, Celestia’s heart was gladdened that phase one was almost complete. She was sure he would be stunned to say the least, once she’d revealed her surprise for him.

She was so close now, he was confused why she was approaching him so slowly. He wondered, Is it because she’s so confident in her ability to land a fatal first strike? But why did the gentle smile she wear, threaten to melt his heart? He found himself, almost wishing for her to run him through, if it meant he could embrace her before he passed. She was so close to him now, he found himself drowning inside her lavender eyes, as her horn was nearly touching him.

“Slave King,” Celestia said, lowering her horn to his wrists. “It’s my pleasure as the head of the Pantheon, to expunge your banishment, and welcome you into the Pantheon as a member in good standing.”

The Slave King, who’d up to this point had been so sure that Celestia only held ill will towards him, looked down at his wrists, and looked on in a stupor as the ethereal chains of his banishment, broke free before fading away into the aether. No longer blocked from the domains that had been long denied to him for centuries, he could finally feel the power of his peers, ebbing and flowing against his own. It was in this moment, he began understanding why she valued harmony so.

Seeing that he was overwhelmed, she reached out to hold him close with her wing. But before she could embrace him, the enraged voice of Lord Ouroboros shook the room.

“What travesty is this?” he roared in protest.

Facing away from him, Celestia placed herself protectively between the Slave King and the furious Fire Tyrant. “Lord Ouroboros,” she firmly said. “Lord Triton and I, decided that the Slave King’s banishment has filled its purpose in reforming him.”

“Have you all forgotten, how he defied the will of the Pantheon, after slaying poor Darkpaw?” he asked, leveling a fiery claw at the Slave King. “Or how he nearly brought Equestria to ruin, with his tantrum?”

“The Slave King has paid for his transgressions,” Lord Triton said, joining Celestia’s side. “He’s made numerous concessions to secure the peace, and has honored them all.”

“Have you gone senile, Lord Triton?” the flames demanded. “Those concessions you secured were nearly worthless, and left me impoverished.”

“Yet, you agreed to them, Lord Ouroboros,” Celestia reminded him.

“Sit down, Lord Ouroboros,” Lord Triton advised him. “Before you embarrass yourself any further.”

“This isn’t over,” the dragon growled, furious that the one thing he held over the Slave King’s head was denied to him.

Turning to Lord Triton, she bowed once. “I suggest we convene the Solar and Lunar Councils,” she said.

“The Solar and Lunar Councils?” the Slave King asked, unsure what they were.

“The councils, Slave King,” Lord Triton explained, “are divided between the sexes. Solar for the stallions…”

“And Lunar for the mares,” Celestia continued. “We normally only call these councils when somepony on the pantheon has come of age.”

“I see…” he mused, unsure what purpose these councils could possibly serve, that the moots did not.

“We shall assemble together in an hour, once each council has come to an agreement,” Celestia told Triton.

“Agreed,” he replied, as the various deities went their separate ways.

Looking down at his wrists, and then at the nearly empty room, the Slave King worriedly knit his brow. I think Celestia’s plot may be more complicated then I first realized, he thought to himself.

“Oh, don’t be so grim, Slave King,” Discord said, grabbing him by the shoulders. “This is the opportunity of several lifetimes. It’s not often you get your pick of the litter. So tell me, who’s your first choice?”

“My first choice?” he said, not sure what he meant.

“Discord!” Celestia’s voice called after him.

“Oops, spoilers,” Discord said with a chuckle.

Shaking his head in confusion at the draconequus’s behavior, he followed him into the chamber where the Solar Council was to be held.

Author's Note

Thank you gentlereader for reading chapter 12 of The Book of Water: The Marriage of the Slave King, as always comments are appreciated. Here is my second submission for The Great Slave King week, a term most disingenuous, due that there will only be five chapter, versus an actual seven. Though it is my great hope that once this is done, I can begin the story's second arc, knowing my writing I may be side tracked once more. I found writing this chapter stimulating, especially for the family dynamic between Lady Suzaku and Harmony.

Regarding this chapter gentlereader, we find the Slave King seems rather introspective regarding the relationship (or lack thereof) he has with his children, and seems to find some comfort in Gunhilde for some reason. Lady Zephyr and Lady Suzaku, reminisce over and mourn the love they hold for the Slave King, and worry about what the rest of the goddesses of the pantheon. If only they knew what Celestia has planned for the Slave King. Scourge regrets his betrayal, but does what he thinks he must, while Nightmare seeks a snipe. Lord Triton and Lady Minoa shared a night of drunken passion, will their affair spark further desire or violence, who knows? Dawson, Harmony, and Dame Squall each seek Aria, and instead find danger. Who knows, if any of them will survive the encounter. Celestia has revealed her hoof to the Slave King, instead of an assassin's blade he's found freedom from his banishment. And what of Discord's presence here, what part does he seek to play?

Find out the answers to these questions and more, in the next exciting chapter of The Book of Water: Marriage of the Slave King, coming soon to a computer near you!

Once again gentlereader, thank you for reading and all your kind words and support. You make writing worthwhile. Until next time!

P.S. My apologies gentlereader, for not including the usual little tale at the beginning of this chapter. Because it's a continuation of the previous chapter, none was written. Once again, my apologies.

Chapter 13: For Whom the Bell Tolls: Part III: A Modest Proposal

The Book of Water: The Marriage of the Slave King

A Story by TalonMach5

Chapter 13: For Whom the Bell Tolls: Part III: A Modest Proposal

He could feel the weapon’s great anger, as he stole it away into the darkness of the aqueduct. He knew once it was discovered missing, there was no place he place he could escape to, no shadow he could hide in, that would offer him any protection from the long arm of his master. He knew he should count himself lucky, had he not already been a ghost, he would’ve soon become one. Even now as he ran, he could feel the spirits dwelling inside, The Vendetta, crying for blood, eager to kill, hungry to sate their unending need for vengeance.

Running through the broken city, he knew all he could do now was buy time. He had no idea how long it would be before his theft was discovered, which left him few options. The few of the denizens he’d come across as he ran through the broken streets, had shunned him as soon as they sensed what he carried. Even though it’d been centuries since it had last seen use here. The Slave King’s attack with it had been so brutal, that the violence of that battle still echoed through the dead city. Those who’d escaped, The Vendetta’s wrath, remembered, and still feared any who carried the dread weapon.

Knowing the city offered him little protection, he decided to head to the abandoned mines his master had once been forced to labor in. Though they would offer him little protection from Slave King. The winding passages were numerous, ran for miles in all directions, and offered him the best chance to elude any pursuers. He was near the former home of Arch Duke Yipyap now, even though the city had been severely damaged when the lava dome collapsed, either by design or chance, the entire estate was still in relatively good condition. He wondered it if was due to his master’s former existence as a slave here, or something else that maintained the estate.

Trotting past the great building, he was nearing the mines now. It’d been ages since he’d last visited this part of the city, and he was trying to remember which shaft would take him into the heart of the earth. It didn’t take him long, before he found what he was looking for. The proper entrance to the mine, like the arch duke’s former home, was still in good condition. Neither time nor decay, had made its mark here, most likely due to some unseen influence from the Slave King. Looking into the darkness, he stepped forward, before stopping. He wasn’t alone.

Was it possibly the Slave King? Had he already been discovered? If so, he’d failed in his mission, and his friend would soon perish. Preparing to make a break for it, he lowered his head, and glowered at his unknown stalker.

“Show yourself,” he said, hoping beyond hope that it wasn’t the Slave King.

Moments later a pair of blood red eyes, peered back at him from the darkness of the mine shaft. As their owner slowly approached him, they moved as silently as the night stalking the dusk. Scourge, there were no bogledeboos in the old market, the eyes accused.

“My apologies, Lady Nightmare,” he said, not letting down his guard for a moment. “I’ll have to discipline the scout who filed the false report.”

I find it curious, she said, stepping out of the shadows and slowly circling him. That you’ve abandoned your post to come here.

She had her suspicions, but Scourge knew she’d not attack unless she knew for certain of his betrayal. “You’re not the only one who’s annoyed our king of late,” he said, offering her a sympathetic look. “Second has finally managed to turn the Slave King against me.”

When she heard him, Nightmare’s eyes reflected shock at the revelation. If their master had turned against his oldest and greatest friend, what hope was there for her to redeem herself? I share in your sorrow, Scourge, she said, looking into his blue spectral eyes.

“Lady Nightmare,” he said, offering her his sympathies. “Soon your exile will end, and you’ll be at his side once more.”

Lowering her head, she whined in despair. What good is returning to his side, if he always chooses another? she asked, despondent that her master would never know the depths of her feelings for him.

“I’m afraid I don’t have that answer,” he said, trying his best to end their conversation.

Standing so close to Scourge for the first time, she’d never noticed before how much he smelled exactly like the Slave King. And just how much of the Slave King’s power flowed through him. If she closed her eyes, she could almost imagine her lord was standing beside her. Drawing close to him, she tried nuzzling him affectionately, but found to her disappointment, beyond his armor, he was incorporeal.

Shocked by her forward behavior, Scourge backed away from her nervously. “Nightmare, what are you trying to do?” he asked, puzzled by her out of character behavior.

You are so much like him, she sighed, rubbing up against his armor suggestively. It’s a shame you’re just a spirit.

Suddenly he realized what it was that was causing her to pursue him like a love struck puppy. The Vendetta. It, combined with the effects of last night’s wine, was making her imprinting her desire for their master, on him.

“Nightmare, stop debasing yourself like this!” he sternly said. “What would the Slave King say, if he saw you acting like this?”

Nothing! she roared, in frustration. Nothing, as long as he has that pony bitch whore to mount.

“Nightmare, I refuse to continue this conversation with you any further,” Scourge said, hoping she didn’t discover, The Vendetta, before he could extricate himself. “I’m leaving.”

That’s right, enough talking, she said, preparing to pounce on him. Here in the Earth, we take what we want.

Though he’d feared being pursued. Being chased by a lust filled and frenzied Nightmare was not how he’d expected things to play out. Trying to escape her, he leaned to the right as she leapt at him, claws fully extended, hoping to grab hold of his armor. Managing to dodge her attack, he dashed into the mines, hoping to lose her, before she caught his trail.

*****

The Slave King was beginning to hate this Solar Council. So far all they had done, was engage in pointless banter and bawdy humor. For the most part, he tried keeping to himself, as the other deities formed their cliques and engaged in small talk. However as much as wished to be left to his own devices, not a minute would go by, before someone would offer them their congratulations and attempt striking up a conversation. Beyond the hateful glares from Lord Ouroboros and Lord Cerynitis, most of his guests seemed to be harmless. He found the socialization pointless, and beyond politely thanking them for their gifts and for attending his inauguration, he refused to participate in any discussions.

Most annoying of all seemed to be Discord, whose warped sense of humor, and complete lack of respect for others personal space, won him few, if any friends here. Fortunately for the Slave King, the draconequus seemed content annoying the others for now. He wanted to ask him if he knew what’d happened to Jormungandr and his allies, but was concerned should he express his interest in the matter, what the trickster might require in payment from him. Deciding to bite the bullet, he was about to approach him, when Lord Triton floated towards him.

“Are you enjoying yourself, Slave King,” Lord Triton asked him, while nodding once to one of the other gods he’d been talking with.

“Honestly, Lawgiver, no,” he replied, hoping he would get the hint and leave him alone. “I fail to see the purpose to this Solar Council, it seems to me to be a big waste of time.”

“Well, the original purpose for these councils,” Lord Triton said, stroking his flowing mustache. “Was to allow us stallions to discuss things amongst ourselves, away from the watchful eyes of the mares.”

“Yes, the pantheon is rather inundated with estrogen at its top levels,” the Slave King said. “But I don’t see any pressing need for us to hold this council.”

“Truthfully, Slave King,” Lord Triton said, with a slight gleam in his aquamarine eyes. “Celestia requested to hold a Lunar Council today. Why, I don’t know. But you know how mares are, especially around such virile stallions like ourselves. So I suggest you sit back, and enjoy all the attention they're giving you.”

Being reminded of how all these women had been continually hitting on him, made the Slave King grunt in annoyance. Now that he’d been freed of his banishment, he’d likely find no peace until he’d either fucked or threatened each of these demanding goddesses into submission.

Seeing his grimace, Lord Triton placed his fin on his shoulder. “Oh, it’s not so bad, old bean,” he said. “I’m sure before you know it, they’ll have lost any interest that they might’ve had in you.”

“I wonder what business Celestia wanted to discuss today,” he mused.

“I don’t know, and have no desire to,” Triton said. “Remember what happened back at Bone’s Landing, when you interfered with their domain, Slave King. It’s best to leave the domain of mares, to the mares.”

He was about to flippantly reply, when Discord wrapped his arms around the Lords of Earth and Water. “So, excited for the big reveal everypony?” he asked, nudging the Slave King with his elbow.

“Discord, remember what Celestia told you?” Triton said, glaring at him sternly.

“Oh, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho,” he laughed, giving the Lawgiver a wide smile. “He has no idea, does he?”

“Discord, if you mess this up for us, I swear I’ll toss your statue in the Pit,” Triton warned.

“Discord, what should I know, that I don’t?” the Slave King asked, feeling his paranoia return as he searched the shadows for Celestia’s hidden assassin.

“Oh, we all chipped in and got you a cake for the occasion,” he replied, snapping his talon, and making a large multi-tiered cake appear in front of him. “I think you’ll like the surprise inside.”

“Thank you, but I’m not interested,” the Slave King said, as a feminine version of Discord popped out of the cake.

“Argh!” Discord groaned. “Eris, you were supposed to wait for the signal. Now the whole surprise has been completely ruined.”

Eris, who was covered only in cake frosting, shrugged, snapped her talons, before vanishing in a pink cloud of cotton candy.

“And she came so highly recommended,” Discord lamented, while helping himself to a large piece. “So cake, anyone?”

*****

“This is completely unfair!” a tiny rabbit cried out.

“What’s unfair, Lady Usagi?” Lady Minoa countered, towering over the much smaller goddess. “That obviously superior specimens such as myself, would be his first choice? To think you thought, that you even stood a chance against a prime element or goddess of the seasons, is pure fantasy.”

“Ladies, let’s not fight about this,” Princess Celestia gently said, trying her best to be diplomatic.

“But he’ll never even consider any of the lesser elements, as worthy mates,” a swan complained, glaring up at Lady Minoa for her dismissiveness of them.

“That’s because you’re all small potatoes, Lady Phoebe,” Lady Minoa declared, folding her arms in front of her.

“It’s a choice he’ll have to make,” Celestia reminded everypony. “I won’t permit a civil war to break out over who gets to marry him.”

“Surely, sister, such an important decision should be made by the Lunar Council,” Luna said, hoping she would support her claim over him. “Tis folly, to expect such a headstrong stallion to make the correct choice.”

“What should we do, if he won’t cooperate,” Lady Zephyr asked, worried he might refuse their ultimatum.

“Then he’ll be forced to abdicate his position as Lord of Earth,” Celestia replied, hoping it wouldn’t have to come to that.

“But that would kill him!” Lady Suzaku cried out, as her eyes threatened to tear up for her beloved. “Without his heart, he’ll die. Please, Celestia, there must be some other way.”

“He’s had centuries to choose a mate,” she calmly said to Lady Suzaku, giving her a sympathetic smile. “He’ll never willingly fulfill his obligations, not unless we force his hoof.”

“Surely there’s another way, sister,” Luna said, concerned that forcing him might somehow backfire.

“I know this is a hard choice,” Celestia said, addressing her fellow deities. “But we have a responsibility to Equestria and our domains. The Domain of Earth is too important, to allow it to lay fallow for so long. Surely, each of you have felt the Earth wasting away under his stewardship. So, I call for a vote on the matter. All in favor of requiring the Slave King to marry, or abdicate his domain, say aye.”

Slowly but surely, each of the goddesses each said aye in turn, all except Lady Suzaku. She looked at the others, lowered her head, and said aye as her heart wept for the one she loved.

“So, we’re in agreement then,” Celestia said, stomping her hoof twice.

“Not so fast, Princess Celestia,” Lady Minoa said, pointing a finger at her. “Unless you’ve forgotten, he still possesses, The Vendetta. What’s to stop him from taking a few of us with him, on his way to the Summerlands?”

When she mentioned the Slave King’s ultimate weapon, most of the deities present panicked, worrying the Slave King in his wrath, would strike them down.

Stamping her hoof to quiet the fearful goddesses, Celestia offered the minotauress a reassuring smile. “That won’t be a problem, arrangements have already been made regarding it,” she replied.

“Then the only question we have left is, who gets him?” Lady Zephyr asked, giving the others a hard look.

“The answer is simple,” Lady Minoa said. “Everytaurus else, has already had their chance. It’s my turn now.”

“Nay! Thou shalt never have him,” Luna declared, channeling magic into her horn.

“Ladies, unless we can discuss this like the mature deities we are,” Celestia said, giving each of them a pointed look. “I’ll have no choice but to marry him myself.”

When they heard her threat, each of the goddesses quickly stopped their murmuring, and looked at her intently.

“Now, as for who shall marry him,” she continued. “I feel it’s best to allow him to make his own choice. It’ll be easier for him to accept things, if he’s allowed to choose his own wife.”

“But what about the rest of us!” the minor deities complained, unhappy about their diminished opportunities in marrying the Slave King.

“To be fair to all parties,” Celestia said, stomping her hoof several times to regain order. “Everypony will be allowed to make their case to the Slave King, before he’s allowed to make his choice,”

"What about you?” Lady Suzaku asked, worried that Celestia was stacking the deck in her own favor.

“I’ve decided to recuse myself, so I can remain impartial,” she said, leveling a stern gaze at her fellow goddesses. “However, if things devolve into a brawl over claiming his hoof in marriage, I will take him for my husband. Are we all in agreement?”

Murmuring their assent, she was pleased when she saw the Lunar Council was unanimous in agreement.

“Now that this matter of business is resolved,” she said, pleased they’d come to an accord over such a quarrelsome issue. “Let’s retire to the main assembly hall, to tell the lucky groom the wonderful news.

*****

She opened her eyes, trying to discover the source of the noise. She felt so cold, almost as if Lord Cerynitis had frozen her heart. She felt so weak and lethargic, but didn’t understand why. She struggled to get up, but discovered her body lacked the strength. Weakly moving her head, she saw her sister and two feathers she vaguely recognized. They were fighting against something, what exactly, she wasn’t quite sure. But it seemed that they were faring rather poorly. She knew they needed her help, but struggle as she might, she could scarcely think, let alone stand up. She decided to rest and conserve her strength for a moment, before trying again.

*****

“Why won’t this thing stay down?” Dawson complained, releasing a quick succession of golden whirlwinds from his fists, as they fought for their lives against the creature.

“This is almost as pointless, as fighting against fog,” Dame Squall remarked, using several fin to fin techniques against the apparition. Though she lacked the magical ability that, Dawson and Harmony possessed, her blows seemed to be hurting it, or barring that, at least keeping the creature at bay.

“It’s called a ghast,” Harmony said, holding out her hands and releasing waves of pure shadow at it. With a silent roar, the beast turned its attention back to the magister, and launched several of its tentacles to ensnare its troublesome prey. “They’re only vulnerable to powerful magic and arcanum weapons.”

Pushing Dame Squall out of the path of the tentacles, Dawson leapt into the air and unleashed a flurry of punches at the ghast, each fueled by his mother’s power. When they hit, the ghast rippled, as parts of its insubstantial body were blown away by his air elemental powered attack. Unfortunately, the ghast’s body reformed almost immediately. When he saw his attacks had done nothing, he frowned. His only solace, was that at least its tentacles, which had felt quite solid, were gone once more.

“Damn it!” Dawson angrily cursed, feeling winded and frustrated that his attacks were nearly useless. “We’re only delaying the inevitable.”

“I didn’t think mudslingers gave up so easily,” Dame Squall, said with a wry grin, before thrusting her fins forward at the ghast and slapping it with her tail.

When her attacks impacted, the ghast raised its head and silently wailed as it seemingly faded in and out of existence.

“That’s easy for you to say,” Dawson grunted, drawing into his magical reserves as he prepared to rake his talons against the ghast. “Your attacks seem to be hurting it at least.”

“You two, stop your chit chat! If we don’t stop this thing soon, Aria will die, and we’ll be following her shortly,” Harmony snarled, frustrated that they seemed to be losing against the ghast.

She was upset with her failure, in preventing such a dangerous creature from gaining access inside the palace. As the court magister, the wards guarding against the deadly denizens of the city, were here responsibility to maintain. As such, their failure in stopping the ghast was entirely her fault. Her only consolation was, they’d managed to discover the ghast before it had killed her sister. She’d no idea what she would say to the Slave King about this, when he returned. That was of course, if they somehow survived this encounter, which judging by how poorly they were doing, didn’t seem very likely.

“Should one of us go for help?” Dawson asked, concerned that his magical reserves were nearly spent.

“It’s taking all three of us, just to keep it busy,” Harmony shouted, above the hiss of the black fire she was throwing at the ghast. “If one of us leaves, the others won’t make it.”

“If only I had my spear with me,” he said, lamenting that he’d left it back inside his room in the Neo Vale.

“Well, you don’t,” Dame Squall said, furious that this abomination hadn’t gone down yet. Opening her mouth, she shouted out an oath of the Lawgiver at the creature. When it struck, the ghast stopped moving, seemingly stunned. “Now’s our chance! Grab Aria, and let’s get the Hades out of here.”

Not needing to be told twice, both Dawson and Harmony placed Aria’s arms around their shoulders, as they pulled her away to safety. The ghast, seeing its prey escaping, let out a silent moan, and extended its tentacles to bar their path. Raising her right hand, Harmony released a jet of flame from her fingertips, evaporating the tentacles, and allowing them to exit. Though still stunned from Dame Squall’s oath, the ghast slowly pursued them, determined that its meal wouldn’t escape.

“By the first egg!” Dawson swore, when he saw that it was slowly catching up to them. “Dame Squall, do you have another shout left in you?”

“That wasn’t a shout, that was an oath of the Lawgiver,” she replied from behind them, knocking aside the Ghast’s tentacles with her fins. “And to answer your question, I don’t. Once we retreated from battle, I lost Lord Triton’s favor.”

“That really sucks,” Dawson said, wishing that he was stronger. “Maybe if we call this a tactical withdrawal, he’ll make an exception for you.”

“It. Doesn’t. Work. That. Way,” she said, in between blows against the ghast’s tentacles. Fearing she couldn’t keep this up for much longer, she decided to sacrifice herself to ensure their escape. “Dawson, Harmony, I want you rush towards the dining hall as quickly as possible, I’ll keep it busy. Once there, my sister’s should be able to put this thing down.”

“No way!” Dawson shouted, unwilling to allow the chevaleresse to die in such a terrible manner. “We’re getting out of this together, or not at all.”

“Don’t be a foal, Dawson,” she chided, praying to the Lawgiver to protect them, as she prepared to make a last stand.

“At this rate, it’ll be not at all,” Harmony said, expending the last of her magical reserves at the creature in one massive blast. “Hopefully, that will give you a fighting chance, Dame Squall.”

“Dawson and Harmony, it was an honor fighting alongside you,” Dame Squall said, as she prepared to have her soul weighed on her way to Tartarus. “May we meet once again in the Summerlands.”

“No, don’t do it!” Dawson cried out, as the seapony mare turned to face their pursuer.

Leveling a cool gaze at the ghast, she glared defiantly at it with her emerald eyes. She whispered a final prayer to her liege, to guide her companions to safety, and to give her the strength she needed to defeat this monster. “I am Dame Squall, the Relentless, a chevaleresse of ‘The Most Illustrious Order of Triton the Lawgiver’!” she shouted, feeling the righteous fury of her liege lord flowing through her. “And I say to you, dark terror of the night, you shall not pass!”

Though her speech was passionate, the ghast was not impressed. Reaching out with its tentacles to feed on its next victim, Dame Squall stood boldly, with her fins at the ready, bravely prepared to meet her destiny.

*****

She was so weak, but she could feel herself being moved. She could hear them shouting, as magic exploded all around her. What was it they were fighting? Why couldn’t her sister stop it? Was her magic so impotent, that a single foe could defeat her? She remembered hearing Harmony mention something about a ghast and arcanum. Why was that so important? She couldn’t recall why, but it definitely was. She could hear the desperation in their voices now, they were fearful for their lives.

She felt herself getting jostled, as Harmony released a pulse of black energy. Such an attack must have drained her sister completely. Things must be dire indeed, if she’d unleashed all her magic in a single blow. If only I could help them, she weakly thought. If only Master Scourge was here, he’d protect us.

She thought back to his earlier confession, and despaired. He was never coming back. All she would have to remember him by, was the knife she wore on her belt. It was her most precious possession. When she’d been inducted into the ‘Order of the Shadow’, he’d given it to her as a gift. It’d been forged by dragon-half smiths especially for her, was made of pure arcanum, and guaranteed to never dull. If only… Wait, it was made from arcanum!

“Harmony…” Aria weakly said, as they moved towards the dining hall to get help for Dame Squall, who was surely fighting for her life.

“What, Aria? I’m a little busy here,” she huffed, feeling exhausted from having used all her remaining magic during her final attack.

“Arcanum… knife…” she moaned, gesturing towards the long knife on her belt, before losing consciousness once more.

Stopping for a moment, Harmony drew the blade from its sheath. Carefully inspecting it, she saw it was indeed pure arcanum. Such a weapon would be deadly against a creature like the ghast. “Dawson,” she said, thrusting the weapon into his open talon. “This is an arcanum blade, thrust it into the ghast’s eyes or mouth to kill it. Hurry, there might still be time to save her.”

Not needing to be told twice, Dawson drew on the domain of air. Placing its power into his legs, he ran as fast as he could, racing back to Dame Squall’s side. He was determined, that she wouldn’t face this evil alone. Turning a corner, he saw the monster. It held the beautiful seapony aloft with its tentacles, as it busily drained her life force with its gaping mouth.

Enraged, Dawson looked down at the knife in his hand, and released a roar of challenge at the undead terror. The ghast, seeing that its prey had returned, dropped its dying meal to the ground, as it prepared to feed once more. It saw the knife, and was unconcerned. It had just fed on two succulent meals, and was feeling strong and flush with power. Launching its tentacles at Dawson, it hoped to entangle and devour him quickly, so it could feast on the two who’d managed to escape.

Leaping into the air to avoid the tentacles, Dawson opened his wings, and glided past the ghast, towards Dame Squall. Reaching down to check her pulse, he was relieved to see she was still breathing, if only barely. Without a second thought, he rushed towards the ghast, with the blade held outward. Seeing its prey acting so aggressively, the ghast switched to a defense posture. Holding out its tentacles in front of it, as it swiped at its opponent.

Deftly, Dawson swung the finely crafted blade at the flowing tentacles, severing them when he was able. As the magical resistant metal, met with the apparition’s ghostly flesh; it cut through them with ease, leaving behind severed tentacles that spurt out ectoplasm, before evaporating into nothingness. The ghast kept losing its tentacles to its prey’s sharp knife, and began falling back, trying to keep away from the hateful blade.

“Oh, feeling afraid now?” Dawson taunted, feeling emboldened by the arcanum knife he held in his talon. Remembering what Harmony had told him about the creature’s weaknesses, he leapt at a nearby wall, pushed against it with his legs and air elemental magic, and unfurled his wings, as he spun forward towards the ghast.

He’d been aiming for its gaping mouth, hoping to kill it instantly. Unfortunately, before his weapon could strike true, the ghast ducked out of the way. Instead of piercing its mouth, he’d struck its left eye. With a silent wailing scream, ectoplasm gushed out of its wound. Afraid of another attack, the ghast retreated into the palace walls, before Dawson was able to recover and deliver a deathblow. Seeing that he was too late to slay it, he ran towards Dame Squall’s side to make sure she was still breathing. Placing his ear to her breast, he was rewarded with the faint sound of her heartbeat.

Cradling her in his arms, he watched over her with the knife at the ready, as he waited for help to arrive, determined that no further harm would come to his friend.

*****

The Slave King sat on his throne, as he waited for his fellow deities to take their seats. He saw Celestia looking at him thoughtfully, and nodded at her slightly as he tried determining what she was planning. Though when he looked down at his wrists, and saw the chains that once held him prisoner were missing, he thought, Perhaps I was wrong about her after all. Maybe, she only has my best interests at heart. Looking up at her he returned her benevolent smile, with a genuine one of his own. When he saw a look of relief flash across her face momentarily, before she covered it back up with the calm mask she always wore, he knew such thoughts were foolish and only wishful thinking.

She cares only for her little ponies, everyone else is expendable as far as she’s concerned, he thought, as he reflected to his time back in the mines centuries prior. He remembered the cries of the unfortunate slaves left to rot under the care of their masters, and how she’d not lifted a hoof to stop it. Even the ponies like his, Little Bleu, had been left to fend for themselves. Remembering how terribly she’d died so long ago, he looked back up at her, and hardened his heart.

Looking towards the passage that led into his treasury, he remembered he still possessed the one thing that tilted the playing field in his favor. First I’ll kill Celestia, then Ouroboros, and finally myself, he darkly thought. Prepared to end his life on his own terms, not hers, or anyone elses.

Steeling himself, he formulated a plan that would allow him his revenge, before the others could stop him. Waiting patiently for the meeting to resume, he wondered where gods went to, when they died. He wondered if, Lord Darkpaw, would be there to berate him for how he’d treated his diamond dogs, and how poorly he’d treated, Lady Zephyr. He wondered if, Harmony, and the others would mourn him, or be glad that he was gone. Though he carried no regrets with how he’d conducted himself as, Lord of Earth, he looked at Princess Luna, Lady Zephyr, and Lady Suzaku, and wondered what his life might’ve been like had he’d the courage to share his life with them.

Looking back at Princess Celestia, his eyes burned with balefire. She was such a hypocrite, beneath that benevolent mask she always wore and the gentle eyes that threatened to melt his heart, was a hardened tyrant no better than he. Though he practiced slavery, to him, it was merely a means to an end. But to her, she valued the status quo so greatly, she allowed monsters like himself and Lord Ouroboros, to do as they wished. Had he been in her place, he’d have challenged himself for dominion, and broken the chains of his slaves, the consequences be damned.

The more he thought it over, the more he decided he was doing the right thing. With the three great tyrants of the pantheon dead, perhaps a chance for something better might arise from the ashes. He was sure, Luna, would be able to provide for her ponies, and without her sister suffocating her, she’d blossom.

Though he held no ill will towards Lord Ouroboros, regardless of their checkered past. Without Celestia or himself to keep him in check, he’d run roughshod over the others. Though he was sure Jormungandr would be unhappy with the state of things, he was sure the Winding One would do his part to ensure a smooth transition.

As for himself, he’d been dead on the inside for centuries. It would be nice to finally sleep forever. Hopefully, Snowe and Little Bleu would forgive him for it. And as for the Domain of Earth, well whoever his successor was, they’d find that the true treasure of the Earth laid inside his manufactorium. Though it might take them centuries to finish, he was sure, Ignatius, and the rest of the dragon-halfs would complete their assigned tasks.

“Slave King,” Princess Celestia said, looking at him worriedly. “Are you all right?”

“I am, Celestia, the Radiant,” he said, feeling an inner peace he’d not felt in ages. The decision to end their dance, filled him with a clarity he’d been lacking for quite some time. “The time of my renewal, has always left me feeling fatigued.”

“Odd, I’ve always found mine a joyous occasion,” she said, walking towards him. “But since both councils have adjourned, Lord Triton, let’s cover one final item on the itinerary, before concluding this meeting”

He nodded in agreement, as he stood up from his seat. “Slave King,” he said. “As you know, with your five hundredth inauguration, we’ve recognized you as an adult. Beyond the normal privileges adulthood offers, there are also additional responsibilities expected of each adult member of the pantheon.”

Hearing Lord Triton, mention additional responsibilities, made him momentarily forget his intentions of assassinating Celestia and killing himself. What other responsibilities could there possibly be?

“Respectfully, Lord Triton,” the Slave King testily said, annoyed at the implication he was somehow remiss in his responsibilities to his domain. “Since the last moot, I have fulfilled my responsibilities in full. The Domain of Earth has never been more prosperous than it is now, and I’ve upheld all the laws without fail, no matter how inconsequential they might seem.”

Lord Triton frowned at the Slave King, displeased with any of his laws being dismissed as being irrelevant or meaningless.

Sensing his agitation, Princess Celestia shook her head at Lord Triton, letting him know that she would handle this. “Slave King,” she gently said, nuzzling against his shoulder. “Nopony is accusing you of being remiss in fulfilling your responsibilities. To the contrary, you are to be commended for how you’ve conducted yourself these past centuries.”

“So what more could you possibly expect from me?” he asked.

“Slave King, each of us, yourself included, are beings of creation,” she explained, looking directly into his burning eyes. “Our times of renewal, are more than an opportunity to renew our domain’s power, but also a chance to replenish the Well of Eternity.”

“I’m not sure how to do that,” he said, feeling slightly embarrassed that he’d somehow failed to do what had been expected of him.

Celestia offered him a kindly smile. “Nopony here had any expectations of you doing so,” she said, turning away from him, to look at the goddesses that were staring at him intently. “Part of this coming of age ceremony, is designed to teach and show you how to meet and fulfill your newly expanded role in the pantheon.”

“Celestia, the Radiant,” he said, abandoning his plans for murder. “Teach me what I must do.”

She looked at him longingly, but then turned towards her sister, who needed him more. Returning to look back on him once again, she sighed. “I’m afraid somepony else will be teaching you what you need to know,” she said.

“Then who shall be my instructor?” he asked.

“Your future wife, Slave King,” Lord Triton, said with a large grin. Pleased that the upstart in the south, would finally get what was coming to him.

“Congrats, Slave King,” Discord shouted from his recliner, in between mouthfuls of popcorn as the banners overhead changed to wedding appropriate colors. Each displayed a picture of the Slave King standing next to a big question mark. “You’re getting hitched!”

Suddenly, everything made complete sense. All the lust filled looks the goddesses had been giving him, the plotting that had made no sense, all the bawdry jokes he didn’t understand, Ringing Bells insistence on making him look fabulous, Discord’s odder than usual behavior, and even Lady Zephyr’s and Lady Suzaku’s last minute pleas to him. No sooner had they restored his freedom, they sought to shackle him to a wife, who he was sure, would try her best to keep him in line, just as Celestia had planned all along.

Looking at the hopeful goddesses, and back to the snickering gods, he shook his head once. Pulling his head back, he released a peal of haunting laughter, as he tightly gripped the armrests of his throne. Concerned that he’d reverted to his formerly mad state, both Lord Triton and Princess Celestia cautiously approached him. Once they were within arm’s reach, he stopped his laughter, rose to his full height, and glared at the two deities who’d thought to enslave him inside his own domain.

“Get out!” he hissed, casting a venomous look at the both of them.

“I will not,” Lord Triton said, his voice echoing with the full power and authority of, the Law. Reverting to his elemental form, he pointed a fin directly at the Slave King. “You will either marry in accordance with the Lunar Council’s decision, or you will abdicate any claim to the Domain of Earth, and your place amongst the pantheon. You will, tell us your answer, Slave King.”

Try as he might, the Slave King couldn’t respond as he desired. He wanted punch the Lawgiver’s smug muzzle, but found he was unable. Compared to, the Law of Creation, his power was as nothing. Shaking with anger, his eyes burned with resentment for what they were doing to him.

“It’s not so bad being married, Slave King,” Celestia said, sympathetic to his situation. “It’s something that’s expected of each of us when we came of age, and it won’t be forever if you don’t wish it to be, maybe for only a millennium or so.”

He wanted to cry out at the injustice of it all. Why wouldn’t they just leave him alone? Why couldn’t he just grieve for, Her, in peace? He thought of, Her, and worried that the thread binding them together would be lost forever. He wanted to denounce them all as hateful monsters for this final indignity against him, but his tongue refused to work. As long as the Lawgiver held him under the authority of, the Law of Creation, he was powerless to oppose them. Summoning all his strength, he croaked out a single word, “Why?”

“Because I love you. Because everypony deserves to be loved, even you, Slave King,” she said, looking at him with the same lavender eyes that always threatened to melt his nonexistent heart. “We want to make you whole again. Please, let us help heal you.”

Knowing that losing his divinity was a death sentence without a heart, he had only one avenue left open to him. Marriage to one of the many goddesses of the pantheon, he presumed. Even if death was not the alternative, he’d made too many enemies to risk losing his immortality, and he’d also made a promise to, Her, that he fully intended on keeping.

“What is your answer, Slave King?” Lord Triton commanded. “Will you swallow your pride and bow to the will of the pantheon, or will you abdicate, and go to the Summerlands?”

“I yield… I yield!” he gasped out, as he was being crushed beneath the weight of, the Law’s, authority.

“Then, it is done,” Lord Triton said, releasing the Slave King from the hold of, the Law. Though it felt cathartic, to finally return a small portion of the humiliation and indignities that the Slave King had seen fit to visit upon him this week, he took no pleasure in his suffering.

“So that’s it then?” Lord Cerynitis shouted to his fellow deities. “You finally had the opportunity to rid us of that menace, and you choose not to.”

“Lord Cerynitis, be silent,” Lord Triton said, annoyed that his once friend, had decided at this inconvenient time, to air out his grievances against the Slave King. “This was a decision made entirely by the Lunar Council. I only enforce, the Law. Stallions have no right to interfere in their rulings.”

“Then I demand that you enforce your precious, Law, against him,” Lord Ouroboros said from his seat.

Realizing what he was doing, the Slave King looked up at his accuser. “Lord Ouroboros!” he shouted, worried that his secret would be revealed to everyone. “We had an accord. You swore an oath of silence, in exchange for, The Heart of the World.”

When everyone heard what the Slave King had given up for Lord Ouroboros’s silence, nearly everyone in attendance gasped. The Heart of the World, was a gem nearly as large as, the Fire Tyrant himself. Its cut and color were magnificent, and had been Lord Darkpaw’s most cherished possession. For millennia, Lord Ouroboros and Lord Darkpaw had battled with each other for the right to possess of the stone. The Fire Tyrant managing to secure it from the Slave King, for the mere price of silence, must have performed the greatest coup, of the third age.

“Do you think I’ve forgotten, or forgiven this?” Lord Ouroboros said, pointing towards his empty eye socket. “And as for, The Heart of the World, feel free to come and collect it, if you’re up to it, man-thing.”

“Hold your tongue, Lord Ouroboros, and you can keep it with my blessing,” the Slave King pleaded. “If you want more for your silence, the treasury is that way. Take whatever you want.”

When the Slave King mentioned his treasury, the dragon’s greed rumbled appreciatively. Even his own hoard, which dwarfed the combined hoards of his children, paled in comparison to the vast riches his rival possessed. He could easily enlarge his hoard a thousand times over, and the Slave King would still possess wealth without measure.

“As tempting an offer as that is, King, no amount of treasure, outweighs the hate I hold for you,” he said, with a cruel sneer. “Even long after Celestia’s sun has set for the final time, the fires of my hate will burn for you.”

“Then say your piece, oath breaker, and be done with it,” the Slave King snarled.

With a dark chuckle, Lord Ouroboros, victoriously grinned. Confident that his revenge against his hated rival would finally come to fruition. “I wish to sue, the Slave King,” he said, “for overpowering me and spawning the dragon-half race, without my consent.”

A gasp of disbelief, that such an act had happened so recently, echoed throughout the ranks of assembled members of the pantheon.

Though such violent acts were common in the first age, in these more civilized times, one god forcing themselves on another, was considered amongst them, to be one of their greatest taboos. Even worse, forcing another to engage in the Song of Creation against their will, was considered next to murdering another deity, as the vilest act a god could commit against another.

“Slave King,” Lord Triton said, shocked that he would so willfully engage in such despicable acts, when he’d just shown his obstinance in being so unwilling to marry in accordance with, the Law. “Is what Lord Ouroboros accusing you of, true? If you wish to defend yourself, remain silent, and we’ll handle this properly through a moot.”

“He speaks the truth,” the Slave King replied, no longer caring about the consequences. He was well aware of what would happen to him, should the story of the creation of the dragon-half tribe come to light. And so in order to protect himself, he forged an agreement with, Lord Ouroboros. His silence, in exchange for, The Heart of the World, and any claim over the dragon-half tribe. Since the punishment for such an act was losing his divinity, he was prepared to take the Fire Tyrant down with him. Taking care of Celestia, however, would simply have to wait. “Lord Triton, do what you have to.”

They’d been so close to achieving harmony once more, and now this had to happen. Lord Triton was loathe to fulfill, the Law. But he had no choice, the Slave King had to answer for his crimes. “Very well, Slave King…” he said, preparing to strip him of his divinity, making the Slave King mortal once more.

“Lord Triton, wait!” Princess Celestia shouted out, her concern for the Slave King reflected in her eyes. “Wasn’t he but a child, when this crime took place? Shouldn’t we show leniency for his crimes, considering his youth and inexperience? Shouldn’t Lord Ouroboros’s part in this, be taken into account before reaching a verdict?”

Lord Triton smiled, relieved that somepony had managed to remember a loop hole he could use, to spare the Slave King from such a grizzly fate. “I agree with, Princess Celestia,” he said. “Lord Ouroboros, why did you agree to remain silent for all these years, and why have you waited until now, to reveal the crime against you?”

Lord Ouroboros, ground his flaming teeth in annoyance. The man-thing, might actually escape his vengeance. “It was because of my embarrassment in being used and humiliated by him,” he said, giving the Slave King a hateful look. “After awaking from my torpor, I overestimated my strength when I battled him. After my ignominious defeat, and was laying defeated and helpless, the Slave King, used my divinity to make his perverse creations, the dragon-halfs.”

“Slave King, is this true?” Lord Triton asked, tapping his fin thoughtfully against his muzzle.

“Twelve years ago, Lord Ouroboros issued a challenge to me, for unfettered access to the Domain of Earth. Unwilling to allow him free reign in my domain, I met with him at the border that separates our domains. For three days we fought each other to a standstill, neither of us managing to overpower the other,” the Slave King said, while his magically fueled green eyes flared beneath his crown, as he recounted the tale. “Finally, when both of us were ragged and bloodied, I managed to strike the decisive blow against him. Exhausted and weary from our great battle, I fell into a deep slumber.”

“When I awoke,” he continued, recalling what’d happened. “I found many frightened dragon-half whelps standing between us. When, Lord Ouroboros came to, and discovered them, he called them abominations, and demanded to eat them. The whelps were innocent of any crime, and I couldn’t idly stand by and let him kill them. So in order to spare them that grisly fate, I struck our broken bargain. In exchange for sparing the dragon-halfs lives, and his silence, he’d get the gem that he’d lusting after for so long.”

“You see, Triton,” Lord Ouroboros said, relishing his impending victory. “He admits his crime from his own mouth. Surely his guilt in this matter can’t be in doubt?”

“He’s guilty of the crime, and should be cast out of the pantheon!” Lord Cerynitis shouted. “If we spare him from the punishment, what of the next time? It could be me, or even any of you!”

“Lord Cerynitis,” Princess Celestia said, shaking her head in disapproval over his lack of mercy. She was sorrowful, when she’d realized the depths that he’d allowed himself to fall to, in order to win back her sister’s heart. He’d once been a good stallion, somepony who’d valued harmony and friendship. But now, he’d allowed jealousy and hate to warp him. A fate she desperately wished to spare her sister. “The creation of the races falls under the purview of the Lunar Council. As such, his punishment should be decided by me.”

“I’m inclined to agree with, Princess Celestia, Lord Ouroboros,” Lord Triton said, stroking his mustache thoughtfully. “Considering, that you chose to conceal the crime until after he was considered an adult, choosing to sell your silence, and then breaking your oath. You have little room to complain about this.”

“It’s my fault this happened, Lord Ouroboros,” Celestia apologized. “The Slave King, should have been married long ago, to provide an outlet for the overabundance of magic flowing through him. I assure everypony, that the Lunar Council will ensure that his power of creation, will be properly channeled until he’s learned proper control over it.”

“I demand justice, Lawgiver,” Lord Ouroboros defiantly roared, furious that his revenge was being denied to him.

“And justice you shall have, Lord Ouroboros,” Celestia said, channeling magic into her horn. “The Slave King shall marry somepony, under the auspices of the Lunar Council. His wife, will train him in the proper use of the Song of Creation, and ensure he causes no further mischief through his inexperience.”

“This is an outrage, I demand compensation for this perversion he’s foisted upon me!” the Fire Tyrant shouted, enraged that the Slave King was profiting once again at his expense.

“I believe you’ve already been more than adequately compensated for any embarrassment this situation may have caused you, Lord Ouroboros,” Celestia said, giving him a dour look.

Enraged at having his demands denied, he spewed flames skyward that scorched the room’s ceiling. “I’ll rip you to shreds, Slave King! I’ll drown your domain in a torrent of lava! I’ll…” he raged, before being interrupted by Celestia’s firm voice.

“Lord Ouroboros,” she said, silencing him with her magic. “Since you don’t have the good sense to know when to quit, I’ll banish you to your domain for one century. Perhaps spending time alone in your domain, will allow you to think about your little anger problem.”

Before he could object, Celestia released the magic in her horn. As the magical energy surrounded him, Lord Ouroboros gave her a hate filled look, before her magic carried him away, imprisoning him inside his own domain.

Giving Lord Cerynitis a stern look, she lowered her horn at him. “Lord Cerynitis, regardless of your grievances with the Slave King, will I have to remove you from these proceedings as well?” she asked in a voice that suggested he’d have no second chances.

“No, Princess Celestia,” he replied, masking his anger. “But, I expect you to answer for your judgment here today, if the Slave King’s foul nature, makes itself known once more.”

“Should the need arise, Lord Cerynitis,” she said. “The Lunar Council, will see that he’s properly disciplined.”

When he heard the words, properly disciplined, the Slave King’s eyes narrowed with displeasure. Once again, despite the flowery language she used to the contrary, Celestia’s desire for him was no different than Lord Ouroboros’s. Whether it was death or enslavement, the end result meant the same to him. And as he’d already experienced the joys of living in slavery once before, he’d no desire to experience it ever again.

Celestia looked to the Lawgiver. “Lord Triton,” she said, happy that she’d managed to save the Slave King from Lord Ouroboros’s scheme. “Please escort, the Solar Council, to their chamber, as we see to the Slave King.”

“Of course, Princess Celestia,” he said with a slight bow, looking at the lovely mares the Slave King had to choose from. He sighed, as he led his fellow gods out of the chamber. “Lucky devil…”

Once he was alone with, the Lunar Council, in its entirety, he folded his arms and defiantly looked up at her. “Celestia, the Radiant,” he said, holding up three fingers as he glowered at his enemy, savior, and now apparently, matchmaker. “This makes the third time, you’ve forced my hand in marriage, without my consent, and against my will.”

“Slave King, the first two were only an effort to shield you from Lord Ouroboros,” she said, trying her best to help him willingly accept the will of the council. “And as for the third, it’s a rite of passage, and an expected responsibility you must fulfill as part of your expanded role in the pantheon.”

“Might the Lunar Council, walk with me, as I consider your proposal?” he asked, holding out his arm to Celestia to join him. Immediately, his goddess suitors crowded around him, attempting to be as close as possible to their reluctant groom.

Leading them through the series of passages he prepared, he showed them his mighty works. Guiding them through the manufactorium, he showed them the many strange and exotic machines that served at his beck and call, and the dragon-half smiths who helped him build them. He showed them his many forges, and the great industry he one day hoped to unleash on Equestria. Many of the goddesses, looked on in awe in wonder at what he’d done in the space of less than five centuries.

Taking them to the surface, he showed them the ruins of the once great city he’d destroyed in his anger, and its current unliving occupants. With a wave of his hand, his unleashed the power of the Earth on the poor hapless undying, crushing and maiming them. Then with a savage roar, he leapt upon the monstrosities he’d spared from his magic’s wrath, choosing to tear them to pieces instead, with his bare hands.

Once he’d impressed upon them the gory horrors that his city held, he guided them back into depths of the Earth, and into his vast, and nearly endless vault. He showed them his great wealth, and watched in amusement, as they lusted after the treasure he considered no better than trash. Taking them into the heart of his treasury, he showed them his many finely crafted, useful, and powerful creations. Satisfied, that they’d been sufficiently impressed by his power, ferocity, and wealth; he sat down on a large pile of golden bits, and invited his guests to join him.

“You’ve certainly done well for yourself, Slave King,” Princess Celestia remarked, thinking back to the wonders she’d seen within the manufactorium. But still felt sorrow, that so many poor souls still remained trapped between life and death in the city ruins above. “I look forward to seeing what the gentle hoof of a loving wife, will drive you to accomplish in the future.”

The Slave King could scarcely believe it. Celestia was still playing her wicked little game, though she’d essentially already won. She actually believed he’d willingly bend the knee, kiss her hoof, and thank her, as she placed the yoke of bondage around his neck. “A loving wife,” he sneered, tired of holding back his fury beneath a veneer of civility. “Are you mad?”

Celestia laid her ears back worriedly, she’d been so certain she’d finally won him over. “What’s wrong, Slave King,” she asked, as the other goddesses waited to hear his response with baited breath.

“I’ll tell you what’s wrong, Celestia, the Radiant,” he spat, disgusted by these shallow so called ladies of the pantheon. “Lord Ouroboros, at least had the courtesy to try killing me as honestly as a dragon possibly can. He never once disguised his rancor for me. His hatred for me is true, untainted by a mask of deceit. What you’re attempting to do to me, is a greater evil than any, the Fire Tyrant, has ever conspired to use against me.”

“How can you accuse me of that?” she asked, hurt by his accusation. For no less than an hour previous, she’d protected him from the very monster he’d just compared her to. “Each of us care for you, and while all of us might not love you now, given time, I’m sure the care we hold for you, will eventually blossom into love.”

“Oh, I’m sure you think you believe these sweet lies you’re telling me,” he bitterly said, hurting more then he realized, when he saw that Princess Luna, Lady Zephyr, and even Lady Suzaku were willingly playing along with this farce. “I’m sure the marriage you’ve planned for me will be a lovely gilded cage, and judging by the goddesses that hope to court me, my jailor will be most beautiful. But the loveliest cage, by definition is still a cage, and while my jailor might ravish me nightly with untold pleasures, I’m still a prisoner, Celestia, the Radiant, your prisoner.”

Realizing that his mind was made up, she clenched her jaw, and forcefully picked him up with her magic. “Slave King,” she said, disappointed that he was being so foalish and stubborn. “I can’t force you to be happy with this arrangement, but you’ll still get married nonetheless.”

The Slave King, tired of her lies and deceit, did the only thing he could. Reaching forth his hand, he called out, “To me, Vendetta, your master calls!”

Knowing that, The Vendetta, was safely out of his reach, Celestia offered him a mirthful grin. “Show us your power, and subdue us, Slave King,” she teased, giggling at his consternation, when the god slayer remained absent. “Where is your fierceness now, Slave King? Prove to us the superiority of your cruel ways, when you’ve been bested by mares, armed only with love and good intentions. Do so, and the Lunar Council will allow you to postpone your wedding a while longer. If not, Slave King, you belong to us. The cage you fear isn’t the one you think we offer, but the one we intend to unlock that holds your weeping heart hostage. And though through marriage, you’ll be bound to us, it won’t be chains of steel that bind you, but by chains of love.”

“Celes… Celestia, st… stop this, please,” he begged, desperate to be freed from her magic’s grasp. He thought of the others she didn’t know about. Devastation, Vengeance, Menasor, Bruticus, Abominus, and even Extinction. But with the exception of the nearly completed, Devastation, they weren’t ready yet. “I… I could destroy you, you know, it’s well within my power.”

“Then why don’t you, oh Great Slave King,” she whispered to him, gently nuzzling his cheek. “We’re but weak mares, unable to withstand against your might. Crush us with your power, and escape the horrible fate we’ve got planned for you.”

Constrained by her magic, and forced to gaze into those lavender love filled pools, he felt his resolve crumbling. She wanted to control him, to use him. She didn’t truly care about him, no one did. He was merely a pawn to be used or discarded as needed, in her unending quest to achieve her damned harmony! In his desperation and shame at being so helpless, he reached out to the one he called friend, Scourge, come to me, I require your aid!

But he received no answer, as Celestia and the others, slowly broke down his resistance to their advances.

*****

He was racing through the dark mine shafts with total abandon. It didn’t matter where he went, as long as he managed to keep moving forward. He’d managed to keep up a brisk pace so far, but due to his incorporeal nature, eventually the magic sustaining his bond to his armor would run out, and he’d risk losing, The Vendetta, before Celestia could manage to convince the Slave King to agree to her plan. Though he didn’t know what terrible fear kept him from embracing the love Lady Zephyr and Lady Suzaku offered him. Or why he felt the need to lie to himself regarding his children, when both he and they knew the truth. He only needed to step over the hair breadth gap that kept them from being a family, and he might finally be happy. He was doing this for his friend, as much as for his daughters, especially his disciple, Aria.

Though she wasn’t his pup, he’d helped raise her, and loved her as his own since she was no taller than his shoulder. But now, the little pup was all grown up. And yet, she couldn’t move beyond the frightened little girl he’d met in the palace all those years ago, when she asked him if he knew her father. Of course, he’d dodged the question like any faithful servant would, for their master. But now, he wondered if he’d made the right choice in aiding the Slave King with his self-deception. Until he finally faced the demons that plagued him, his friend would have no peace, and know no happiness.

He detected her presence nearby, she’d finally managed catching him where he couldn’t escape. “I can sense you, Nightmare,” he said, preparing to fight, so he could continue his mission.

She responded to his challenge, by opening her blood red eyes, and stared at him. You’ve stopped running away, she countered, approaching him slowly.

Though he was dead, he could smell her arousal and desire. “Nightmare,” he told her. “I have nothing I can offer you.”

Presenting herself to him, she looked over her shoulder and offered him a pleading look. Please… she desperately said. I want him so badly.

“That’s something you’ll need to discuss with, the Save King,” he said, walking past her.

It’s not fair that the only other one worthy of me, is nothing more than a ghost!” she angrily complained, scraping her claws against the rocky surface of the mine wall.

“Seek your comfort among the living,” he admonished her. “Because the dead have nothing to offer.”

If you were still alive? she asked. Would you have been willing?

“It’s best not to ask unknowable questions,” he replied, grateful she’d finally given up the chase.

Before they could part ways, they both heard their master’s plea, Scourge, come, I require your aid!

Nightmare whined in agitation, disappointed that he’d not called to her for help instead. When she saw that he didn’t enter the shadows, to answer their master’s summons. She bounded over to him, blocking any escape.

Why haven’t you leapt to our master’s defense? she accused, offended that he’d betrayed his sacred oath to their master. Sensing his hesitancy, she called out to the Slave King, alerting him to Scourge’s location. Whether because he failed to get the message, or something else was preventing him from answering her, a second cry for help never came. He knows you’re here now, why aren’t you answering his call for aid?

“I can’t,” he said, as his voice filled with shame for his deceit.

Why not? Use the shadows, and assist our master! she demanded, furious that he was refusing to perform a duty she’d do without hesitation.

“I dare not return, not until it’s over,” he told her.

Traitor! she snarled, enraged that he’d betrayed the Slave King. Smelling his scent once more, her eyes narrowed into slits, when she realized why she’d been overcome by lust for him. The Vendetta, you’ve stolen it!

Seeing there wasn’t any point in denying his crimes, he took a low stance as he prepared to do battle against her. “I did what I had to, Nightmare,” he said, baring his fangs.

Liar! she roared, desperately wishing the traitor wasn’t already dead, so that she could kill him for his despicable betrayal.

Leaping on him, she latched onto his thick armor with her razor sharp teeth and fearsome claws, but the arcanum plates of his armor held true. Scourge, forcefully shoved her against the walls of the mineshaft, attempting to dislodge her. But her claws remained firmly latched to his armor, as he ran through the mines. Their fierce howls and the screeching of metal against claw, echoed through the long abandoned tunnels, as the Slave King’s two most powerful servants, fought each other to a standstill.

Scourge, the Hunter's spectral body, was invulnerable and immune to any physical attack, while Nightmare, the First Creation’s might and power was undeniable. It seemed as if their epic struggle would last for eternity. Until finally, he knew it was finished. Laying down on his haunches, he looked to her and surrendered himself.

“It’s finished now, Nightmare,” he said, wishing to end their stalemate.

What’s finished? she demanded, happy that he'd stopped resisting, yet dissatisfied that she could do nothing against him.

“Celestia, has finally dealt with the Slave King,” he replied, grateful that his master was finally safe.

You’ve killed him, Scourge! she screamed out in despair. He’s dead, and it’s all your fault.

“No, he yet lives,” Scourge stalwartly replied, fully prepared to be judged for his crimes.

So you’re just going to turn yourself in? she asked in disbelief

“Yes, I’m ready to face judgment,” he said.

Then come, Scourge, and don’t even think of trying to escape, she threatened.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied, grateful that this was finally over, yet dreading the meeting he’d have with the Slave King.

Nightmare looked at him in disgust, and motioned for him to follow her back to the palace with her head. Scourge followed behind her, as they ran through the ruins of the city, towards judgment and his fate.

Author's Note

Thank you gentlereader for reading chapter 13 of The Book of Water: The Marriage of the Slave King, as always comments are appreciated. While thirteen might be considered unlucky by some, hopefully you found this chapter a worthy addition to the tale. While writing this chapter, I found myself concerned I may have been sappy with Celestia's dialogue towards the end. I wanted to show her tender side, yet playful at the same time, as she attempted to break through the Slave King;s defenses.

So finally Celestia's plot is revealed in full. It appears that the Slave King shouldn't have feared an assassin's blade, rather a wedding band. The only one question remains, who shall approach him at the altar? Perhaps, Princess Luna, beautiful and wise, yet lonely and yearning. Or Lady Minoa, who's strength and vivaciousness can't be denied. Maybe Lady Zephyr will be the one, her wish to be one with him finally fulfilled. And Lady Suzaku, whose heart only beats for him, may be just the one. Then again, Celestia, might just come out of left field and steal him away from the others.

And what's this, Lady Nightmare and Scourge? Is it possible everypony's favorite murder machine, has finally decided to start dating? And I wonder, what Dame Squall might say when she discovers she not dead? Will Dawson discover what he missed, the night before? And what of Ouroboros and Cerynitis, surely they have future plans involving the Slave King, none of which can be good for the Slave King. What might they be? And what exactly is the Devastation, and its brothers, is it like the Vendetta? Or something else entirely?

Find out the answers to these questions and more, in the next exciting chapter of The Book of Water: Marriage of the Slave King, coming soon to a computer near you!

Once again gentlereader, thank you for reading and all your kind words and support. You make writing worthwhile. Until next time!

Chapter 15: Something Old, Something New, The Blushing Bride, and Her Reluctant Groom: Part I: Old Friends, New Wounds

The Book of Water: The Marriage of the Slave King

A Story by TalonMach5

Chapter 15: Something Old, Something New, The Blushing Bride, and Her Reluctant Groom: Part I: Old Friends, New Wounds

There was a wayfarer from the south, in the wilds he did roam.

Defending the defenseless, it’s to him I sing this ode.

With a soul full of justice, he punished every foe.

Fearless guardian of the downtrodden, it’s to this that we him owe.

Black and green, black and green.

The wayfarer from the south, he wore the black and green.

He fought the worst villains, too numerous to list.

Rendering his verdict, with battle hardened fists.

Ascending from the dark Earth, he landed against evil many great blows.

To those who broke Triton’s law, they deserved every punch he did throw.

Black and green, black and green.

The wayfarer from the south, he wore the black and green.

Beneath his mask, beats a heart, which yearns for all to be free.

His face he could never share, his true name shall ever be a mystery.

But why should he standalone against the Slave King, in a fight that he just can’t win.

If asked, the wayfarer would tell you… Someone’s got to stand up to all this sin.

Black and green, black and green.

The wayfarer from the south, he wore the black and green.

-Author Unknown, Ode to the Unknown Wayfarer

“It’s your move, Soul Weaver,” the ancient kirin said, impatiently tapping his hoof, as he waited for his opponent to make his next move.

“Impatient you are, Lord Raiden, I see, but don’t be so hasty to go, because you’ll lose by turn three,” the large yellow spider rhymed, as he moved the finely crafted piece carefully to its new position on the large board.

“You may control the fate, of far lesser intellects, Lord Ananse,” Raiden said, carefully studying the location of all the pieces on the board, while contemplating his next move. The drab room they were playing in, seemed to do little to improve his sour move. In order to escape the worthless gossip of his mentally deficient peers on the pantheon, he’d suggested playing their game in one of the Slave King’s unused dungeons. “But my intellect is far greater than you could possibly comprehend.”

“To your boasting and blustering, I shall not fall,” Lord Ananse said, clicking his black and yellow mandibles together. “Methinks, you’re simply trying to stall.”

“Stalling for time, in my moment of triumph?” Lord Raiden asked, offended that Ananse would ever suggest such a thing. “I think you overestimate your chances.”

Lord Ananse said nothing, instead smiled contentedly, as he spun a small tapestry as he waited. Examining the board with all eight of his eyes, they narrowed, when he saw where Lord Raiden moved his next piece.

“You say yours is the greater mind,” Lord Ananse said, moving his piece and succeeding in taking one of Lord Raiden’s poorly defended positions. “But to my eight eyes, I say you’re simply blind.”

“You incipient arachnid!” Lord Raiden growled, when he saw that he’d just lost control over half the board. “Greater minds than yours, have tried defeating me at this game. But all have failed, and all have gone mad in their unworthy attempts at succeeding.”

“Twas not my intent to make your expansive ego burst,” Lord Ananse chuckled. “But it pleases me, by defeating you at this game, the honor goes to me first.”

Angrily grinding his teeth at his fellow god’s ribbing, the Seer tried looking for any weakness on the board or loophole in the rules he could exploit. His warped and gnarled horns crackled, as he began calculating in his mind, the probability of success for each move he could still make.

It didn’t look good. Most of his pieces were away from his poorly defended keep. He’d originally hoped that by playing aggressively against his traditionally defensive opponent, he could forgo his defenses, in lieu of a greater number of attackers. Unfortunately, he’d failed to anticipate his opponent deciding on using traps versus his usual fortifications, which cost him most of his pieces.

“Lord Raiden, I see that times does waste,” Lord Ananse said, tapping his leg impatiently. “Make your move, or do you hesitate?”

“Don’t try pressuring me, into making any premature moves, Lord Ananse,” Lord Raiden said, giving the large yellow spider a sour look. “I gave you plenty of time to make your move, when you wanted it!”

Ananse, raised his legs up in defeat, as he waited for the kirin to make his move. They had been playing this same game, ever since the Solar Council had been called. He could tell by how the Slave King had been acting, that he’d been expecting violence rather than a marriage proposal. Although when Celestia had announced who the Slave King was to wed, he wasn’t surprised in the least. Most of the members of the Solar Council, had assumed that he would have selected either Lady Zephyr or Lady Minoa. But he knew better, his web, and the threads of fate, dictated that Luna would marry the Slave King. Thus was it written, and so did it happen.

Though many of the pantheon, were worried when Lady Suzaku never returned, he was unconcerned. She was doing, as his web showed she would. Thus was it written, and so did it happen. Returning his gaze back to the board, he smiled when he saw that Lord Raiden had just made a fatal mistake, leaving him defeated by turn three, just as he said thus was it written, and so did it happen.

“So, Ananse,” Lord Raiden said, giving his adversary a hard look, as he pointed to where he’d moved his piece on the board. He’d made a strong and bold move, unless Lord Ananse moved to protect his sovereign this turn, it would be checkmate on his next turn. “I believe you were saying something about defeating me in three turns.”

Lord Ananse, moved his hidden ambushers, taking out Lord Raiden’s sovereign. “Lord Raiden, I believe you’re checkmated,” he said, rubbing his mandibles together, greatly pleased with his victory. “I suppose your defeat today, must have been fated.”

“Nooo!” Lord Raiden howled, when he saw that he’d just been bested by an inferior intellect. Taking a deep breath, he calmed himself, and looked down at the board sheepishly. “My apologies, Lord Ananse, for my slight outburst. I guess my shock at losing to you, overwhelmed me. Might you care to play again?”

Lord Ananse gave the kirin a wide smile. “I can tell by your plea,” he said. “That you desire, the best two out of three.”

“You’re damn right I want a rematch,” he replied, setting the board back up his magic. The sound of one of the Slave King’s heavily armored doomhounds, drew their attention away from their game. Looking to see who it was that dared interrupt him, before he could humble Lord Ananse, he saw the blue ethereal glow of Scourge, the Hunter. Who had until recently, been considered one of the Slave King’s most trusted lieutenants. Scourge was being escorted by Nightmare, another of the Slave King’s servants. “Look at how lowly the Slave King considers us, Ananse. That we should suffer to share lodging with a traitor.”

“My apologies, Lord Raiden, for any discomfort my presence here might cause you,” Scourge said, bowing deeply to the two gods. “The Slave King will deal with me shortly.”

The kirin snorted in disgust, offended that the traitor deigned speak to him unbidden. “He’d better,” Raiden impatiently groused, unhappy he’d have to spend any time with him at all.

Seeing her prisoner had stopped moving, Nightmare released a low growl. Stop talking, traitor!” her eyes demanded, while knocking against him hard with her muscled body.

Scourge said nothing. Lowering his head in submission to his jailer, he walked deeper into the Slave King’s forsaken dungeon.

Nightmare escorted him into an empty cell. Though no earthly prison could ever hope to hold him, he’d rather face judgment from the one he called friend, than escape to freedom. Heading towards a dark corner, he turned around thrice, before laying down on his haunches. Sighing in resignation, he rested his head on his paws.

She gave him a derisive snort, and closed the cell behind him. Before leaving him to await judgment at the paw of their master, she looked over her shoulder at him. So this is the fate of the great Scourge, she said, feeling nothing but disgust for his betrayal against their king. Rotting away in a dungeon, as he awaits execution. So tell me, Scourge. Was it worth it, betraying us, for that pony?

Scourge looked up from his paws, and sighed once. “Far better that I suffer for this, than him,” he said, resigning himself to his fate.

Shaking her head at his foolishness, she left Scourge, the Hunter and his cell behind. Before returning to her own duties, she shot a dirty look at Lord Raiden who seemed to be losing to Lord Ananse once more.

“Go slink back to the shadows where you belong, Pit fiend,” he said, stroking his hoof thoughtfully against his unkempt beard. Running his eyes along the board, he found the opening that would win him the game and restore his unblemished record. “Ananse, I think you’ll be rhyming another tune shortly.”

Nightmare dug her claws into the stone floor beneath her paws. Had Lord Raiden been mortal she would’ve devoured him for his insult against the Slave King and herself. And even though Scourge was a traitor, he was still ten times the hound the deity could ever hope to be. Remembering her master’s wrath for her attack against Princess Luna, she decided to take a slightly different approach to avenging herself this time.

Picking up several pieces with his magic, Lord Raiden moved them forward, sure that this aggressive tactic would win him the game. “Ananse, I hope you’re prepared to eat crow tonight,” he boasted, feeling confident that his victory against the Soul Weaver was imminent.

Lord Ananse gave his braggart opponent a wry smile. “My friend, I fear your victory here won’t be hurried,” he said, finishing up the small silk tapestry he’d been working on.

Nightmare approached them as he spoke, lifted her paw, and slammed it down as hard as she could. When her heavy paw met the game board, the pieces flew in every direction, robbing Lord Raiden of his victory. Satisfied her work here was complete, she left them and the dungeon behind her.

“Not as long as the lady’s heart is still in a fury,” he said, completing his rhyme and handing the tiny tapestry to Lord Raiden.

Picking up the tapestry with his magic, Lord Raiden narrowed his eyes angrily at what he saw. Lord Ananse had woven the entire scene, depicting Nightmare scattering the board, and himself grinding his teeth in anger, as that fat spider looked on, grinning at his misfortune.

Seeing his fellow deity’s anger, Lord Ananse moved to leave. “Lord Raiden, here’s something to think about, as you grind your teeth, and stew and pout,” he cheerfully said. “It not me that you should hate, instead direct your anger to the threads of fate.”

Laughing at the kirin’s fury, he left behind Lord Raiden as he busily collected his game’s pieces with his magic. Climbing up a nearby wall, and along the ceiling towards his quarters, he chuckled. And they called Lord Raiden, the Seer! More like a dim two eyed fool, blindly grasping at a future he could barely scry, let alone comprehend. Only he, could feel the vibrations of the invisible and innumerable strings of fate that were tied to every living soul, save one. And soon the last, would finally be woven into his proper place, in the warp of his great weave. He wondered what they might say, if each of those who’d played their part in bringing the tangler to heel, knew what lay in store.

Spying the upcoming preparations for the Slave King’s nuptials, he smiled, pleased with what he’d wrought this day. Thus was it written, and so it did happen, he mused, before retiring to a ledge, as he waited for his tapestry’s weave to come to fruition.

*****

Standing in front of a mirror, the Slave King carefully weighed the two choices before him. Matters such as these, could never be taken lightly. The smallest misstep or miscalculation, would be an irrevocable error he’d be forever forced to live with. Though normally he wasn’t one to make decisions lightly, sometimes he had no other option but make his choice and hope for the best. But lately, so many weighty and pressing issues were hounding him from all sides, he barely had enough time to consider his current dilemma, before the next crisis presented itself to him.

“Arch Duke Yipyap,” he said, stroking his greying beard thoughtfully, as he pondered what he should do about this. “I’ve come to appreciate your opinion on matters such as these. What do you think?”

The diamond dog noble put down the half full goblet he’d been drinking from, and gave his lord a thoughtful look. “Well, I can appreciate the virtue both options offer,” he said, weighing the Slave King’s choices carefully. “This could be an opportunity to remind everyhound present, that you’re still somehound that should be feared and respected. But on the other paw, you must consider your bride to be feelings on the matter.”

The Slave King gave the arch duke a flat look, which seemed to belie his disbelief that he’d ever consider such a thing. “You can’t seriously expect me to make any future decisions with my wife’s desires in mind,” he growled, displeased that perhaps he might actually have to change how he ruled, to suit her whims.

“That’s entirely up to your discretion, my liege,” the arch duke replied, taking a sip of wine from his goblet, as he opened a book. “However, it’s said, that a happy wife makes for a happy home.”

“One of Lord Raiden’s sayings I take it?” he asked, as he eyed the book thoughtfully.

“Well more or less, Slave King,” he said, finishing his wine. “I summarized the saying somewhat, what Lord Raiden had written, seemed rather unhelpful in this instance.”

Narrowing his eyes with displeasure, he could only imagine what the seer had written about him in that particular saying. He was glad that the arch duke had decided to spare him the dross. The last thing he needed right now, was something else to anger him unnecessarily.

However, he still had this pressing choice to contend with, and was unsure what his final decision should be. “Arch duke, if this was your choice to make, what would you decide?” he asked, deciding that whatever he picked, would be as good as choice as any he might have made.

The arch duke, chewed his lower lip for a moment, as he mulled it over in his mind. “Definitely go with the black,” he said, pointing towards the black satin doublet the Slave King held in his left hand. “While the green matches your heraldry, it’s sure to clash with the bride’s coat and dress.”

“You’re probably right,” the Slave King said, placing the green doublet down, and trying on the black.

“Your majesty?” a feminine and slightly stressed voiced called out. “Have you made your choice yet? Please say yes, we’ve so much left to do, and so little time to do it in.”

“Yes, Ringing Bells,” he said, adjusting his doublet’s fasteners, as he examined himself in the mirror. “I believe the black, is best suited for my wedding.”

“Oh, thank Celestia,” she replied, wiping the sweat that had accumulated on her brow with her hoof. “When Princess Luna’s dressmaker heard I’d made you a set of green clothes for the wedding, she almost blew her top.”

“Well, it looks like the crisis has been adverted then,” the Slave King said, giving the fashionista a grin. “By the way, would you remove the sleeves?”

“Whatever for?” she asked, concerned that she’d made the sleeves too tight. “If I remove them, your scars and brands will be visible.”

“Exactly,” he replied, pointing towards the brands that had once marked him the property of the Gem Biter clan.

The brand showed a set of jaws biting down on a large gem, surrounded by chains. Though he held no love for his former master’s, he felt that his brand was as good a symbol as any to represent his reign. As a result, the brand was displayed on his flag, heraldry, and seal. Every slave in his domain, from the greatest authority, like the arch duke, to the lowest slave toiling away in the mines, shared the mark. In a way, though he’d utterly obliterated their clan and family line, they would never be forgotten.

“But they’ll clash horribly with your lovely clothes,” she protested, unsure how she could possibly draw attention away from the ugly red scars prominently displayed on his biceps.

Knowing she meant that she found his brands repugnant, he frowned. “Any official government business, requires my brands to be visible,” he said, removing the doublet and his iron crown, so she could see all his burns and scars. “If the bride to be, finds my brands so nauseating, she’d better call off the wedding, because there’s no way in Hades that she’d ever make it through our wedding night.”

Though she’d seen him nearly naked before, the sight of his many scars, always made her feel a bit ill. “My apologies, your majesty,” she said, bowing low to him, and sorry she’d offended him about his scars. “I’m sure Princess Luna is delighted that she’s able to marry such a handsome stallion as yourself.”

Seeing her back pedal, he chuckled as he placed his iron crown back over his head. “There’s no need to sugar coat it,” he said, running a finger down several of his numerous scars. “I’m not suffering under any delusions that I’m some great beauty, I know most find my scars quite ghastly.”

“Now that’s not quite true, your majesty,” she said, trying to stroke his ego, hoping to smooth out any feathers she might have ruffled over her thoughtless comment. “I’m sure I can still make you look fabulous, even with all the scars. I’ll simply need to approach things from a different angle.”

“I’m sure whatever you design will be superb,” he said, releasing the doublet from his hand and into her waiting magical hold.

“No, that’s not good enough,” she forcefully said, allowing her styled mane to become a tad frazzled and out of place. “I promise you, your majesty, that your wedding clothes will be resplendent, and you’ll be the envy of the pantheon for centuries to come!”

Seeing how serious the little fashionista was being about this, brought a smile to his lips. Being forced to marry against his will, had placed him in a sour mood, and it was nice being able to laugh at even a small thing. He wondered what Scourge might have said, if he was by his side. But then remembered his betrayal, and scowled.

Though everyone in his domain were treacherous by necessity towards one another, a byproduct of the harsh existence foisted upon the denizens of his domain, by the unforgiving nature of the Earth. Scourge’s betrayal had cut him deeper than he ever thought would be possible. Nightmare’s earlier assault on Luna could be explained away due to jealousy, or her normally churlish nature. Being female, he’d often expected her to be moody and insubordinate when it suited her. However, what Scourge had done was completely unexpected. He didn’t even really mind the theft of, The Vendetta, as much as his failure to come to his aid when he cried out for help.

He’d never given much thought to their relationship before, he was the master, and Scourge was his loyal servant. But over the centuries, their dynamic had changed beyond master and servant, into something much more profound. He was his only friend, if such a being as he could actually have one. Ever since he’d lost Snowe, he’d been lost, adrift in a treacherous sea of betrayal. He could never afford to trust anyone. Even those who claimed to love him, regardless of their reasons, had eventually betrayed him in some way. But Scourge… Scourge, he was different. He’d only ever served him faithfully. He’d even returned from the Summerlands to aid his king… No, to aid his friend.

Friendship, he angrily thought, as the sting of Scourge’s betrayal brought the bitter taste of bile to his tongue. Celestia often preached the virtues of friendship, how it was the key to harmony, and possessed a special magic all its own. But she was wrong, he knew that now. Harmony was a lie. Friendship was a lie. All they offered him, was a new chance to experience heartache and betrayal. Looking into the mirror, he saw his reflection staring back at him. His burning green eyes flickered, as the magic sustaining them, threatened to die out. If only he didn’t possess this hateful knowledge. If only he could forget what had been done against him. He’d gladly trade his crown, throne, and all his domain, to return to how things once were. Oh how he wished that his heart still beat in his chest, so he could remove it once more, and stop the great ache that threatened to overwhelm him.

What should he do with him? His treason, allowed for only one punishment. Execution. But that would be an impossibility, for how could any kill one who’d already died. Besides, Scourge’s spirit was forever linked to his own. As such, he was destined to remain in the world of the living until the end of days. There was always banishment, but no decree he could offer, could prevent the doomhound from going wherever he pleased. And imprisonment, would likewise be as futile. There was one punishment left, one he’d only ever used sparingly for the most heinous of crimes. But he found himself unwilling to consider it. Scourge had served him faithfully for so long, he could never do that to him, no matter how great his betrayal had been.

Lowering his head, he looked down into his empty hands and shook his head. “Scourge, my friend…” he mourned. “Why?”

*****

Luna stood on the raised platform, as the seamstress was putting the last finishing touches to her wedding gown. Her wedding, the thought of it made her as giddy as a filly who’d just received her cutie mark. Looking into the mirrors surrounding her, she saw that her dress would be perfection itself.

Her gown was composed of blue silk as dark as the night, and silvery white satin that shone like the full moon. Dozens of ponies, had worked long into the evening, sewing hundreds of gems into the delicate fabric of the gown, bridal train, and veil. She was sure that when she walked down the aisle towards the altar, she would be the envy of everypony present. Deity and mortal alike. Looking at her reflection, she nodded approvingly at her manedresser’s choice in flowers, that were used to adorn her mane and tail. Her stylist, had used the fragrant blossoms that only grew within Lord Darkpaw’s temple. A fitting choice, she thought.

Looking to her left, she saw her silver crown resting on a black velvet pillow besides the rest of her royal vestments. The diamonds adorning it, sparkled like the stars in her mane, and she wore it wherever she went. Resting on a ponyquin nearby, her silver peytral which bore her cutie mark, waited for her to don it once her dress fitting was complete. Levitating the crown before her, she considered its weight, against her sister’s relatively larger crown.

Your tiara, is certainly fitting for a princess, the voice whispered into her mind. But you’re marrying a king, shouldn’t that entitle you to wear a queen’s diadem instead?

Our betrothed might be called the Slave King, Luna replied, studying the gems adorning her crown carefully, as she looked for any flaws that might tarnish her wedding day. But he’s still only the Lord of Earth, nothing more. Besides, we and our sister, are equals in all things.

Then answer this question, Princess Luna, the voice said, demanding an answer to its inquiry. Why is her crown larger than yours, if you are equal in all things?

When she heard the question, she narrowed her eyes in disapproval at how small her crown seemed to be. Perhaps the voice had a point after all. Shouldn’t her crown be just as grand as Celestia’s? Wasn’t she just as regal and divine as her sister? Didn’t she deserve… Nay, she was owed a crown as magnificent, or even greater, than her sister’s?

Yes, you do, Queen Luna, the voice said, offering her visions of what the future held for her as the Slave King’s wife.

She was once again, beloved and respected by all. Her ponies sought out her night, offering her their praise and devotion at her hooves. Her sister’s sun, would pale in comparison to the glory of her moon. And even the other races would seek her out, to receive her blessing. But all the while, she saw her sister in the background, glaring jealously at her good fortune.

Looking once more at her unimpressive tiny crown, she placed it back on the satin pillow, suddenly feeling rather dissatisfied by it. But then she remembered what the voice had called her. Queen Luna, we like it, she thought, smiling, as she imagined the much larger crown she’d have her husband make for her, once their honeymoon had concluded.

The sound of hooves approaching, interrupted her fantasy, returning her to reality. Looking into the mirror, she saw that her sister had come to pay her a visit. “Celestia…” she coolly said, resting her eyes thoughtfully on her sister’s golden crown. “What an unexpected pleasure.”

Celestia laid her ears back, worried that she had somehow inadvertently offended her sister once more. By all rights, today should be a joyous day for her sister, and she didn’t want to spoil things for her.

Walking towards her, Celestia offered her a plaintive look. “Luna, you look marvelous in your dress,” she said, hoping to assuage her sister’s anger. “I’m so happy for you.”

“Truly, sister?” Luna asked, remembering all the looks and nuzzling Celestia had given the Slave King recently. “We wonder, if perhaps thou wished our fortunes were reversed.”

“Luna!” Celestia sharply said, admonishing her for thinking such a thing. You’re my little sister, and seeing you happy once more, is all I ever wanted. If I had to choose between your happiness and a mate to call my own, I would choose your happiness every time.”

When she heard her sister’s devotion and willingness to sacrifice on her behalf, Luna felt her heart sink inside her chest, and lowered her head in shame over her petty behavior. “Celestia, forgive us for thinking ill of thee,” she said, as tears threatened to escape her teal eyes.

Seeing her sister nearly in tears, pricked her heart with compassion. Instantly forgetting her brusque words, she trotted to Luna’s side, and embraced her with her wing. “You’re my little sister, Luna,” she said, holding her tight. “I’ll love you no matter what!”

I wonder, would she still love you, if you were, Luna, the Black? the voice sinisterly asked.

Luna recalled the dark thoughts she held back in the mine, and shivered at the memory. Looking up at Celestia, she sought her approval. “No matter what, sister, dost thou promise it?” she asked, nearly pleading with her sister to say yes.

Nuzzling her gently, Celestia rested her head against her sister’s. “Of course, Luna,” she lovingly said.

“But pray tell, shoulds’t our marriage to the Slave King snatch us away from thee, what then?” she asked.

Offering her younger sibling a warm smile, she lit up her horn, driving all the shadows in the room away. “Then, dear sister,” she promised, picking up her sister’s crown and placing it gently on her head. “I swear by the moot, even if it takes me forever and a day, I shall drive the shadows away, so you can return to my side once more.”

Reassured by her sister’s vow, Luna immediately felt much better. “Forgive us, Celestia,” she said, burying her muzzle inside her sister’s mane. “We art such a silly foal, and undeserving of such a kind and benevolent sister as thee.”

Celestia offered Luna another warm smile, and placed her mouth near her ear. “Besides, Luna, if the Slave King decides to keep you all to himself, I’ll just have to threaten to marry him as well,” she whispered conspiratorially.

“Then we shall have to ensure such never comes to pass, dear sister,” Luna replied, returning her sister’s smile with a grin of her own.

Celestia released a gentle laugh, and looked at her sister’s reflection. “You look so beautiful, Luna,” she said, standing beside her. “Surely, ever lady amongst the pantheon will be green with envy, and every lord will burn with passion.”

“We wonder if the Slave King will burn as well,” Luna said, remembering how fiercely he’d opposed the very idea of getting married.

“I wanted to discuss him with you before the wedding,” she said, admiring her flowing gown and the intricate hoofwork that had gone into its construction.

Luna rolled her eyes at her sister’s concerns. “Dearest sister, this is hardly our first marriage,” she replied, somewhat annoyed that her sister didn’t think she was up to the job of properly handling her husband to be. “The Slave King might be a stallion mired in sorrow, but he’s still a stallion with needs.”

“I just don’t want you being disappointed,” Celestia said, remembering how easily he’d frustrated her carefully laid out plans. “Should things between the two of you, not progress like you think they should.”

“A stallion’s heart is not such a difficult thing to capture,” she haughtily said, swishing her tail suggestively. “We need only offer him the proper reinforcement, and our husband will swiftly come to heel.”

Celestia sighed, when her sister got like this, there wasn’t any reasoning with her. “Alright, Luna,” she said, turning to leave her sister to her wedding preparations. “I’ll see you before the wedding.”

Before she could exit, she found herself stopped by Luna’s magic. Turning to see what she wanted, she found herself caught in her sister’s strong embrace. “Celestia,” she said, looking into her eyes. “We wished to say, thank you, and that we love you dearly.”

Basking in her sister’s affection, she lowered her head against her, closed her eyes, and smiled. “I love you too, Luna,” she said, before breaking free of her embrace. “Now come on, you’d better finish getting ready. You wouldn’t want to be late for your own wedding, now would you?”

“Nay, t’would be calamitous, sister,” she replied, as she headed back to the raised platform. “We shalt resume our preparations.”

Pleased to see her sister smiling once more, she exited the room, and headed to speak with the groom to be.

*****

“Are you sure I can’t convince you to let us stay, at least until after the wedding?” he asked her, as she looked out the window towards the direction of the Slave King’s palace that lay in the distance.

They were back in the city now, preparing for the long flight back home. Home, how long had it been since he’d been there? Though it had been a little over a month since he’d last seen their mountain home, it seemed like almost a lifetime ago. He thought about all the things he’d done since he’d stolen away in the dark of the night, and smiled at the memories. He thought of the naivety he possessed when he first started this adventure, and smiled. He’d thought it would have been an easy task to fly to the south, impress his father, and take his rightful place at his side. Instead, he’d gained a family he never knew existed, fought traitors and monsters alike, and found some good friends.

He remembered Bucky, the pegasus. He wondered how he was enjoying his freedom, and if he’d ever see him again. He hoped that he’d take him up on his invitation to visit him in the Golden Eyrie, if he ever headed north. He thought of Gunhilde, the reindeer battlemage, now turned cup bearer for his father. When they fought each other over the skies of Bone’s Landing, all he could think of was the glory her capture would grant him. But now, he felt guilt eating away at him. He’d been instrumental in her capture, and now she was a slave. His only consolation, was that she was serving in an honored position of his father’s court, rather than being prostituted as a tent doe.

His mother still hadn’t answered him though. All she could do, was stare listlessly out the window. He honestly had no idea, what had transpired during the meeting that had made her like this. Though judging by the wedding preparations, he had a pretty good idea. She’d nearly been as excited as he had, before he’d slammed into the cold wall of reality that was the Slave King. He’d seen the looks of adoration she’d given his at his inauguration ceremony, when he’d defended her from Lord Ouroboros, and during dinner. But now, the Slave King was marrying somefeather else. He remembered what he’d asked Melody earlier, Why wasn’t I good enough for him? Though she’d no answer to give him, he’d eventually accepted the reality of things. But that didn’t make his heart ache any less, and he was sure his mother was even more familiar with the pain then he was.

“Dawson love,” he heard his mother say. “Come to me, please.”

“Of course, mother,” he replied, walking towards her.

He could see her storm blue eyes and silvery plumage reflected from the window at him. Though she tried to hide it, he could tell by her red eyes, that she’d been crying. Laying his talon comfortingly on her shoulder, he looked down at her. “I love you, mother,” he said, wishing there was some way he could help her.

Lady Zephyr looked up at her son, and smiled. It was neither a smile of joy or happiness, but of contentment. Though her heart still ached to be held by the feather she loved above all others, she still had a piece of him to hold onto, his best piece, reminding her of the love they once shared together. Grabbing hold of him, she embraced him tightly, not daring to let go, lest he too be taken from her.

Nearly suffocating from his mother’s embrace, he felt the love she held for him, washing over him. It felt quite similar to when Melody had hugged him as well. He’d miss her, he thought. All her good natured teasing, the mischievous twinkle in her eyes, and the cheerful smile she always wore. And though he’d just patched things up with Aria, he was sure, given time, they would’ve been friends at least. And then there was, Dame Squall, the beautiful seapony mare. He sighed, remembering how her body felt, when he’d held her in his arms.

Breaking their embrace, Lady Zephyr looked at her son. “Come, Dawson, let’s go,” she said, sighing in resignation.

Though he knew he’d have to leave sometime, until she said the words, let’s go, the reality of things hadn’t sunk in yet. He desperately wanted to stay, but knew that right now, his mother needed him by her side.

“Okay, mother,” he reluctantly said, stretching out his wings and preparing to take flight. Ensuring that he had everything prepared for their long journey, he tightened his pack’s straps, and leapt into the air. Hovering above the landing, he waited for her to join him.

Lady Zephyr, gave the broken lava dome in the distance, one last forlorn look, before stretching out her wings, and joining her son in the air. Pumping her powerful wings, she gained altitude over the Neo Vale, as she headed north. Without another word, Dawson followed after her, only pausing momentarily, to look back towards the friends he’d made, and hoped to one day see again.

*****

Melody leaned back in her chair, playing a soft melody, as she absentmindedly plucked the strings of her lute. She often played it, when she had a lot on her mind. She found the music therapeutic. She and her sisters, were going to playing the part of the Slave King’s groomsfeathers. She was under the impression, the role was usually played by the groom’s closest male friends. But as the Slave King had few if any friends, it had been decided that his court advisers would fill the needed roles.

When she complained, that she didn’t have anything nice enough to wear for an event this important, the Slave King glowered at her, and told her to improvise. As a harper, she owned many nice pieces of clothing, but nothing that seemed to say wedding to her. Looking at the large pile of clothing laid out on her bed, she sighed in defeat, when nothing seemed appropriate. It was easy for the Slave King to tell her to improvise, he had a personal seamstress making all his wedding clothed.

She wasn’t even sure, what the point of holding a formal wedding ceremony was. The Slave King seemed thoroughly unenthusiastic about the whole affair, and if what she’d read about Luna was true; she, like the rest of the goddesses of the pantheon, had been married many times previously. Which brought her to another point of contention, she had no idea how Princess Luna had managed to get the upper hand over the others. She was sure, her mother, or Lady Zephyr would have won. But instead, Princess Luna, sister to the head of the pantheon, was the victor. As far as she was concerned, things seemed out of place. But if the Slave King wasn’t going to protest the results, why should she?

Though she had no proof, she was almost certain that somefeather had arranged things to occur just so. But who on the pantheon could it possibly be, who had the power to see the future, and more importantly, why didn’t she have a dress she could wear to this wedding?

Sighing in frustration, she put down her lute, and began the process of choosing the clothes she would wear to the wedding in earnest. I guess this will have to remain an unsolved mystery, she thought, as she held up a black linen blouse against her breast.

Hearing a soft knock at her door, she glanced towards the welcome distraction, and placed the blouse atop all her other clothing. “Yes. Come in, it’s open,” she said, holding up a silver corset with one hand, and holding a red silken waistcoat with the other. “So, Harmony, which do you think is more appropriate to wear to the wedding?”

“I thought you might want to know, Melody. Dawson, left to go home with his mother,” she said, entering her sister’s room.

Melody narrowed her eyes, and inhaled sharply. “I figured that’s what would happen,” she sadly replied. “I wish I could have told him goodbye, before he left.”

“They didn’t leave very long ago,” Harmony said, gesturing towards the broken lava dome that was viewable from the terrace. “You might be able to catch up with them if you leave now.”

“But there’s all the wedding preparations I need to help oversee, Master Scourge’s trial to attend to, and worst of all, I still don’t have a thing to wear to King Daddy’s wedding,” she said, waving her hands in the air dramatically.

“Go, Melody, I’ll handle the wedding preparations,” she said, holding up a thick itinerary. “Aria will see to Master Scourge’s trial, and as for your clothing, I’ll see if I can’t talk Ringing Bells into refashioning some of your clothing into something more wedding appropriate.”

“Oh, thank you so much, Harmony!” Melody said, giving her sister a tight embrace. “Why are you doing this, aren’t you always telling me I need to take my responsibilities more seriously?”

“Family’s important too,” she replied, giving her sister a kindly smile.

“But how could he be family, with his mother being Lady Zephyr?” Melody asked, curious if she was finally ready to admit the truth regarding their father’s true identity.

Harmony ground her teeth in exasperation at her sister’s antics. “I was referring to you, Melody, not Dawson,” she said, giving her a hard look. “The Slave King has no children.”

“Well not if Princess Luna has anything to say about it,” Melody said, before unfurling her wings and leaping off her room’s terrace. Hovering in the air, she looked down at her sister in gratitude. “Thank you, Harmony, for giving me the chance to tell our brother goodbye. Have any messages you wish to pass on to him?”

Harmony was about to scold her sister for insinuating the Slave King had children once more, but stopped. She remembered, how bravely he’d fought with her against the ghast, and realized she would be honored to call him brother. “Melody, tell Dawson, the South will always be welcome to him,” she said, waving her sister goodbye.

“Can do, see you later Harmony,” Melody said, before beating her wings as fast as she could. She was determined to catch up with Dawson, and offer him her farewell. Even though it wouldn’t be from the one he undoubtedly wanted it from, she would give him his goodbye hug with all the love she possessed. Ensuring that he knew that he would always be welcomed back in the South, with wings wide open.

Catching a thermal draft, she gained altitude, trying to catch them before they left the domain. “I’m coming for you, brother,” she said with a grin.

*****

“You are not prepared,” he said, glaring with malice at his target.

With hate fueled rage, he hurled a spear of ice, much harder than any tempered steel, at the ice sculpture that he was using for target practice. The icy spear flew straight and true, penetrating the sculpture with ease, and shattering it into bits, before impaling the wall behind it. Channeling magic into his antlers, he created another identical sculpture of his hated enemy, and prepared to hurl another ice shard at the target of his malevolence.

“You think to steal my doe from me?” he accused his silent target, while his rage fueled eyes glowed red.

Sending the icy shard flying with his magic, it burrowed deeply into the ice sculpture, before its innate magic activated. Within seconds, the shard expanded, making the target explode into a fine mist of icy particles. With bloodlust in his eyes, he prepared another ice sculpture to destroy. Trying to decide how he should dispatch his foe this time, he looked around the room for inspiration.

“My enemy, you are not prepared.”

He thought of his fellow deities, led by Triton and Celestia, as they announced who would be the Slave King’s bride, and snorted in anger, when he thought of him touching her, with his wicked and depraved hands.

Though you might have fooled the others, and lulled them into a false sense of security,” he continued, grinding the target’s broken pieces into the ground with his silver shod hoof. “Yet, I alone, remain vigilant.”

All around him, the shattered remains of hundreds of broken ice sculptures littered the ground. And nearly as many ice spears and shards, were buried into the walls and floor, each leaving behind a thick coating of ice where they had struck. Then inspiration hit him. Wearing a vicious smile, he prepared for his next attack. With macabre glee, he formed several thick spike covered disks. Levitating and spinning them with his magic, the impromptu saws sparked when they touched each other. With maniacal laughter, he thinly vivisected the target dummy into pieces. Imagining all the while, that the icy mist covering him, was the crimson blood of his enemy.

“My foe, you are not prepared.”

But it wasn’t enough, he needed something more.

“You think you’re safe in the heart of your Domain? I say you’re a fool,” he declared, shaking his antlers menacingly.

Considering his enemy, he decided he needed something special to give the groom on his wedding day. A special gift, to the fabulist and prevaricator, who’d stolen her away from him, with his poisoned words and wicked forked tongue. Recompense, to the perverse wayfarer fornicator, who’d defiled his moon flower with his tainted soul. Reckoning, to the sneak thief and plunderer, who’d robbed him of his honor and friend. Revengeance, to the butcher and godslayer, who’d already ended one of their number, and who’d undoubtedly continue in his murderous ways, if given another opportunity. Retribution, to the pretender and charlatan, who sat on a stolen throne, who even now, was evading justice for his crimes. Ruination, to the monstrous and uncivilized beast, whose stubborn refusal to meet his end, was an affront to all that was good in the world.

“My nemesis, you are not prepared.”

Picking up his spear, he inspected its ice covered tip, and frost covered shaft. Yes, this would be the weapon of his redress, the means to his reparation, and the key to his revenge.

“Rimefrost is coming for you,” he vowed, holding the weapon aloft. “Soon, you will know the winter of my discontent.”

Channeling his magic into the spear, he engraved it with the forbidden power of blood runes. Each spoke of the hatred he held for his enemy, and was empowered with his rage infused blood. When he was finished, he looked upon his creation with pride. Though it wasn’t the equal of, The Vendetta, the weapon was saturated with so much rage and hate, it could easily poison a god with its malevolent venom.

With cold hate, he levitated the spear in front of him, and smiled as his red eyes contemplated striking down his enemy once and for all.

“Slave King, you are not prepared!”

*****

The reluctant groom, stood before the mirror, and looked at the finery his pony seamstress had made for him. The black satin doublet she’d made for him, felt wonderful against his skin. She’d taken the liberty of embroidering the collar and hem of the garment, with the image of his brand with green and silver silk threads. He found himself liking the look, it seemed to make him seem more like a proper king, rather than the tyrannical warlord his threadbare clothes, cloak, and iron crown, framed him as.

Though he wasn’t normally given to vanity, he found himself enjoying his new look, and contemplated commissioning more clothing once the wedding was over. Though he wasn’t quite ready to trade in his iron crown for the gilded one she had Ignatius make for him, he was beginning to appreciate how fashion might be useful in reforming his image. But as much as he liked the doublet, he wasn’t quite sold on the long toed silver slippers she’d insisted he at least try on and consider, before outright rejecting them. He found their upward curl, rather ridiculous looking.

As he admired his clothes, he heard her enter. Angrily, he muttered a curse under his breathe. She was the last person he wanted to deal with right now. “You look quite handsome in your wedding clothes, Slave King,” she said, offering him a genuine compliment. “I’ll admit, I’m feeling slightly envious of my sister.”

“Flattery is a futile gesture with me, Celestia, the Radiant,” he replied, looked at her reflection. “State your business. I suspect, you didn’t come here to ogle my scars.”

Though he wasn’t being outright rude to her, beneath his thin veneer of civility, she could feel the resentment he harbored for her, bubbling beneath the surface. Had she known then, what she’d known now, she would never had annulled the faux marriage she and her sister had once had with him, regardless of the political ramifications. Instead of being somepony she’d been forced to crush beneath the weight of, the Law’s authority, had they remained married, she could have helped mold him into a gentle soul, who she might have easily influenced with a little love and kindness.

“I wish to be present when you pass judgment on Scourge,” she said, looking at him with her large magenta eyes.

Though he felt something bordering on hate for her, looking into her benevolent eyes, made his heart melt. He wanted to rage in anger at her for taking away the one friend he had left, but found himself unable to do so. His mind felt exhausted from all the anger he’d been feeling, and now he only wished to mourn, and put this great loss behind him.

“And why should I allow that, Celestia, the Radiant?” he asked, not particularly caring to hear her answer. Scourge was lost to him now, and there was nothing left to do but punish him for his crimes. “This matter is for the Earth to decide. The light, has no place in the depths of the Earth.”

“I wish to offer counsel, on his behalf,” she said, approaching him. “Surely, you believe in allowing a condemned pony a chance to defend themselves.”

“The prisoner is guilty. He confessed to Lady Nightmare, and The Vendetta, was found in his possession,” he said, exhaling deeply, as he dreaded having to sentence his servant. “The reasons for his crimes are irrelevant, he is a traitor to his king, and will face justice for his crimes.”

“But surely, there might be extenuating circumstances?” she asked, hoping to prick his heart, and allow her to speak on the doomhound’s behalf.

When he heard her argument, a small sliver of hope burned within him. Perhaps he hadn’t been betrayed after all. Maybe there was an alternate explanation for Scourge’s actions, beyond the obvious. “Very well, Celestia, the Radiant,” he said, turning to look at her. “If the prisoner agrees to accept you as his counsel, you may defend him.”

When she saw the pain masked behind the flames flickering in his eyes, she mourned that another was suffering because of her actions. “Thank you, Slave King,” she said, offering him a kind smile. “I only hope that my rhetoric, will temper your ruling.”

“I only promise, that justice will be done,” he said. “And justice demands, that the scales be balanced.”

“But what of mercy?” she implored.

Narrowing his eyes at her for suggesting something so ridiculous, he scowled. “Mercy is for the weak, and there are no weaklings in the South,” he answered, looking away from her searching eyes. “Only the strong and the dead.”

“Have you forgotten so quickly?” she asked, looking at his reflection.

“What do you mean?” he said, refusing to look her in the eye.

“Sir Stouthorn, the Chivalrous,” she said, walking in front of the mirror, and forcing him to look her in eyes once more. “You begged his forgiveness, for striking him down in anger.”

Looking down at his metal arm, he sighed. He’d not given the minotaur much thought in centuries, but his missing arm was a constant reminder to him of the great evil he’d once committed in his anger. He remembered the dying knight of the Lawgiver granting him forgiveness, only asking in return, for him to always remember to be a just ruler. He liked to think, that being fair and just to everyone, from the lowliest slave to the most powerful lord, was the hallmark of his rule.

“I remember the promise still,” he said, thoughtfully rubbing his false arm. “None can claim my rule is unjust, or that I’ve played favorites.”

“But what about being kind, and a good friend?” she pointed out, hoping to remind him of the things he’d long since forgotten.

Her words caused him to inhale sharply. He remembered seeing the grievously wounded knight laying on a litter, surrounded by his friends. Looking down into the minotaur’s brown eyes, he’d seen pity reflected back at him. When he’d begged forgiveness, he received neither condemnation nor rancor. Instead, the elderly knight had only asked for him to be a good king to his subjects.

“Celestia, the Radiant,” he softly said, remembering the promise he’d made long ago. “Let’s see if Scourge, is willing to allow you to defend him.”

She nodded in agreement. Though it wasn’t the answer she’d been hoping for, the fact that the harsh edge of his voice had blunted, gave her hope, that he might show clemency for Scourge’s betrayal.

*****

She tried her best to avoid looking at her mentor like this. It nearly broke her heart. He looked nothing like the towering pillar of strength she’d always known. Laying down, with his head resting on his large paws, he looked up at with sorrow in his ethereal blue eyes. She wanted to curse him for betraying them, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Soon, the Slave King would come and pass judgment on him, and she’d never see him again.

Seeing the distress in his disciple’s eyes, he stood up. “I’m so sorry, little pup,” he said, from behind the bars that separated them.

“Was it worth it, master?” she asked, balling her hands into fists, and desperately trying to fight back her angry tears.

“I would do it again, a thousand times over without reservation,” he said, looking up at her.

“How can you say that?” she accused, feeling the stabbing hurt of his betrayal, twisting inside her heart.

“Because he’s too important to the Domain of Earth to lose,” Scourge answered, at peace with his fate. “And he’s my friend. Though, I have one regret, my disciple.”

“And what’s that, master?” she bitterly said, turning away from him.

Reaching out between the bars of his cell, he placed an armored paw on her shoulder. “That we’ll be parted so soon, Aria,” he said, desperately wishing he still had flesh, so he could hold her in his paws.

“Master Scourge, please don’t leave me, I love you,” she cried, embracing his arcanum armor through the bars.

“I love you too, little pup,” he said, closing his eyes.

Though he was only an apparition, clad in cold arcanum steel, as she hugged her condemned master, she felt no chill. Instead, she felt the warmth his heart held for her, and cried in sorrow over his fate.

He’d never had the chance to have pups of his own. He’d always thought he’d have made a good father. But it turned out that fate had another destiny in store for him. He’d been young when he first entered the Slave King employ, and when he lost his life battling the Dracoliche, that avenue had been forever closed to him. However, when he first met that weeping little pup those many years ago, he discovered the chance that had been denied to him for so long.

“Aria, you need to be strong,” he said, lifting up her trembling beak with his paw. “When I’m gone, the Slave King’s enemies will be emboldened. Second especially.”

Wiping her teary eyes on her sleeve, she sniffed a few times, and nodded. “Alright, Master,” she said, though her heart wasn’t quite in it. Scourge was more a father to her, then the Slave King had ever been. And now that she was about to lose him to cruel fate, she found it hurt nearly as much, when she realized her father didn’t love her.

“Remember, Aria, all parents love their children,” he said, looking into her reddened eyes. “Even the Slave King. With time, he’ll discover that for himself.”

“How can you be so sure, master?” she asked, certain that she’d never know her father’s love.

In all his centuries of service to the Slave King, he’d never shared his knowledge of the Slave King’s deceased daughter, Little Bleu with anyhound else. He could still remember her song even after all this time, and felt speaking of the experience, would cheapen the memory. But with his end so near, he felt the need to share it with somehound. “Because the love he holds for her runs so deep,” he replied, remembering his master’s unending sorrow for her loss. “He must feel something similar for you.”

“Who is it, that he loves so much?” she asked, feeling conflicted by the revelation. On one hand, she felt disbelief that her father felt anything for anybody. And on the other, it pained her that he was incapable or unwilling, of offering even a fraction of that to her.

“What I’m about to reveal to you, Aria,” he said, looking into her golden eyes. “You must vow to share with nohound else.”

“What about my sisters? Surely they too, have the right to know,” she said, knowing how much the knowledge would mean to them, especially Melody.

“Swear it, Aria!” he commanded. “Or I’ll keep this knowledge to myself.”

“Very well, master. I swear by the shadows, to keep your faith,” she said, holding up her hand.

“The Slave King’s other daughter, Little Bleu,” he said, remembering her from the sliver of memory, he still possessed of the Summerlands. “He loves her still, even after all this time.”

When she heard the Slave King had another daughter that he apparently loved, she began shaking with fury. “How dare he!” she angrily shouted, punching the wall as hard as she could with her fist.

Scourge saw her anger and sighed, knowing she might never forgive him for this. “Hold your anger, little pup,” he said, hoping to calm her down.

“Where is she?” she demanded, wanting to see the daughter that was so much more worthy of being loved then she. “Who’s her mother? Probably one of the princesses’ I’ll bet! No wonder he cares more for the ponies, than his own flesh and blood!”

“Though she was a pony,” he said, remembering her song fondly. “Her mother wasn’t Celestia or Luna. She died long ago, back when he was still mortal, before he became the Lord of Earth.”

She now knew how impossible her desires were, he was chasing after the shadows of his memory, because of that, he’d never have room in his heart for her. She leaned against the bars of Scourge’s cell, as the weight of her realization struck her. Sliding to the ground, she buried her face in her hands in despair. “Why did you tell me this?” she mourned, weeping that her father would love her.

“So you might have hope,” he said.

“Hope, what hope is there for me?” she despaired, knowing she could never compete for her father’s affection, against somefeather who was dead.

“One day, he’ll see what I see, little pup,” Scourge said, offering her a warm smile. “I only hope, that you’ll be willing to give him a chance when he does.”

Leaning back against his cell, she rested her head against her master’s armored body. “It’s just so hard to be patient, Master Scourge,” she said.

“I know it is, Aria. I know it is,” he told her, as they enjoyed each other’s company for probably the last time.

Author's Note

Thank you gentlereader for reading chapter 15 of The Book of Water: The Marriage of the Slave King, as always comments are appreciated. As we enter the final chapters of this story arc, I think its interesting to see the direction I took the characters. Several of the plot points caught me unaware, and I had to make some plot adjustments accordingly.

Regarding this chapter, we see the cast going their own ways. Some to return home, and others to say goodbye. The Slave King's anger against his friend, seems to have no end in sight. Will Celestia be able to offer him the balm, that will soothe the savage beast that lays under the surface? And it seems that Luna lusts after her sister's crown, could this be a sign of her possible fall to evil? Lady Zephyr and Dawson, are headed home, I wonder what adventures await them? As Scourge awaits his end, it appears he's revealing some of the Slave King's secrets to his disciple, Aria. I wonder what she might do with this knowledge, keep her promise to her master, or perhaps confront her father with the knowledge? And what of Ananse? What could his part in all this, possibly be? Lord Cerynitis seems rather upset with the Slave King, I wonder what he plans to do with his spear?

Find out the answers to these questions and more, in the next exciting chapter of The Book of Water: Marriage of the Slave King, coming to computer near you!

Once again gentlereader, thank you for reading and all your kind words and support. You make writing worthwhile. Until next time!

Chapter 16: Something Old, Something New, The Blushing Bride, and Her Reluctant Groom: Part II: Guilt and Innocence

The Book of Water: The Marriage of the Slave King

A Story by TalonMach5

Chapter 16: Something Old, Something New, The Blushing Bride, and Her Reluctant Groom: Part II: Guilt and Innocence

They were flying high above the broken wasteland beneath them, with a strong headwind blowing behind them. Locking his wings into place, he sighed as its strong current carried him towards the Golden Eyrie in the North. The further away he got from his father’s throne, the more melancholy he felt. He wondered if it was because his adventure had finally ended, or maybe it was because he’d failed to achieve what he’d set out to do.

He wondered what tasks his mother would assign him to when they got home. Though griffin culture was fairly militaristic, it was nowhere near as organized as ‘The Order of the Shadow’ or ‘The Most Illustrious Order of Triton the Lawgiver’. He hoped it would be something other than being attached to her ceremonial honor guard, or being assigned to some boring governmental post. After the taste of excitement he’d experienced in the South, the last thing he wanted to do was being put in charge of the Golden Eyrie’s sewage system or overseeing the maintenance of the domain’s many bridges and passes.

He could see it now, instead of being hailed as, Dawson, the Ghastbane, he’d be known as, Dawson, bridge inspector. If he didn’t do something spectacular, he’d never catch his father’s eye. With things being so peaceful, any chance he had at gaining honor and renown, were slim to none.

“Why can’t there ever be a war when you need one?” he lamented, as he looked down at the well maintained road beneath them.

Despite its name, the Desolate Road might be considered one of the modern wonders of Equestria. It was a huge sprawling road network that stretched west, east, and north. And despite being built in the middle of a desert, every mile without fail, had a flowing fountain and shelter built, allowing its travelers a place to rest from the unrelenting sun. The paved road network, allowed a pony pulling a fully loaded cart, to travel from a port like Bone’s Landing, all the way to the Neo Vale in less than five days. And a traveler if they galloped nonstop, could easily reach Celestia’s domain in central Equestria, in less than two days from the Earth Domain capital. A far cry from how things were even a century prior.

Noticing a pony beneath them pulling a fully loaded slave cart towards the Neo Vale, he narrowed his eyes in disgust. He wondered how the Slave King could allow such things to continue, especially if what his mother had told him about his father’s past was true.

“Mother!” he shouted, pumping his wings hard in order to catch up with her.

“Yes, Dawson,” she replied, turning her head towards her son.

Look below us,” he said, pointing towards a pony pulling a cart containing several unfortunates destined to be sold in the slave markets of the Neo Vale. “There’s a griffin inside.”

Looking down, she saw that her son was correct. There was a griffin inside the cart. “It’s not my place to interfere in the Slave King’s affairs,” she said, turning away from the sight.

“But don’t we have a responsibility to him? He’s a griffin after all,” Dawson protested, wishing he could fly down there to free the griffin and the others.

“In another’s domain, I have no say,” she sadly replied. “Were we in the Domain of Air, it would be another matter entirely.”

“I’m going to free them,” he announced, tucking in his wings, and dove towards them in an effort to stop this travesty.

“Dawson, stop!” Lady Zephyr shouted, as he ignored her completely. Grinding her teeth, she followed after him, hoping to stop him before he created an interdomain incident. The last thing she wanted, was having to face his father again, after he’d married somefeather else. And her son turning to banditry, would certainly demand that she beg his father for clemency on his behalf.

Holding his arcanum spear at the ready, he flared out his wings, and landed in front of the pony slaver pulling a cart containing a griffin, several ponies, and a donkey. “Stop, and pull over!” he demanded, brandishing his spear threateningly.

The grey earth pony sneered at the griffin-half that thought to rob him, and shook his silver mane defiantly. “Do you have any idea, who I work for?” he asked, pointing towards his brand, and feeling incensed that anypony would dare accost him on the Slave King’s highway.

“I don’t give a damn, what slime you work for,” Dawson retorted, lowering his spear at the pony.

The slaver looked at the spear cautiously with his purple eyes, ran his tongue along his teeth, and tried sizing up this threat. Being a slaver, he was no stranger to violence, as the many scars he wore, testified of his experience as a fighter. “Listen, you half breed punk, I’ll only say this once,” he growled. “These slaves belong to Second, you cross him, and you’re dead. If you rob me, I only have to go to the closest guard station, and the Slave King’s forces will hunt you down before you get more than half a day away. That is, if they manage to reach you, before Second does.”

“What makes you think I fear Second?” he replied, leveling his spear as he approached him menacingly.

“Then you’re a fool,” the earth pony said, slowly backing away from the spear he held in his talons.

“I might be a fool,” he darkly replied. “But I’m also the one holding the spear.”

“You’ll never get away with this,” the pony said, circling around Dawson, while looking for an opening to attack.

“Dawson, put your weapon away this instant!” Lady Zephyr hotly shouted, when she landed between them.

Turning to face the pony slaver, she flared her wings and opened her beak at him threateningly. Looking at the enslaved griffin, she saw he was shackled inside the cage, looking forlorn and morose. When he looked at his deity, she saw his despair leave him, as hope for his salvation filled his heart.

“By the first egg,” the griffin weakly said. “I would’ve never dared hope that, the Maelstrom herself, would answer my prayers.”

When she heard her subject’s plea for help, she felt shame that any of her griffins should suffer as anyfeather’s slave, and felt a righteous fury in heart, that this pony snack thought to sell any of her people into bondage.

“By what right do you think to imprison anyfeather, let alone one of my griffins?” she demanded of the pony, as her strong claws raked the stone road, sending sparks flying everywhere.

The pony looked at Lady Zephyr, reached into his saddlebag, and pulled out some documents. “Here in the South, we take what we want,” the slaver boasted. “Besides, I have bills of sale for every last one of them.”

Snatching the documents from him, she carefully read each one, searching for some loophole she could use to save these unfortunate slaves. Seeing that each bill of sale was in order, she reluctantly handed them back to him.

“Now, if you and your brat are done wasting my time,” he said, giving both of them a wary look. “I’ve got some slaves to sell, and money to make.”

“Come, Dawson,” she said, hanging her head in defeat, and unable to bear looking at her subject that she failed to save.

“Please, Lady Zephyr,” the poor griffin begged, reaching out to her with his talon.

Grabbing the whip hanging from his saddlebag, he snapped it once against his griffin slave. “Shut your beak, feather brain,” he menacingly growled. “You’re my property, and there’s no escape, slave.”

Shrieking in pain, the griffin pulled his talon back inside, and covered his beak with his wing as he cried in despair.

“Mother, isn’t there anything we can do!” Dawson plead, hoping to spur her into action, or at least turn a blind eye to things. “This is wrong.”

Realizing she could’ve put a stop to his horrible injustice had she claimed the Slave King when she had the opportunity, she lowered her head in shame. “I’m sorry, my son,” she said, giving the pony slaver a hateful look. “But as long as he’s in the Domain of Earth, there’s nothing we can do. However if he ever steps inside my domain, my windigos will feast upon his soul!”

“I’ll keep that in mind, as I sell your griffin to the fleshmongers,” the slaver dryly said, hitching himself back up to his wagon.

“How about I take him up a thousand spans, and then let go?” Dawson asked, hoping she would let him.

“You wouldn’t dare!” the pony said, feeling slightly worried the griffin-half might actually go through with his threat. “Touch me, half breed filth, and face the Slave King’s wrath!”

“Aha, ha, ha, ha, ha!” they heard the melodic tone of feminine laughter breaking out all around them. “Touch me, and face the Slave King’s wrath, how delightfully droll!”

The slaver looked around worriedly, trying to discover where the mocking laughter was coming from. “I’m under the Slave King’s protection, you know!” he shouted.

Bursting out of flames in front of them, Melody, the Yellow, appeared wearing a slight frown. Walking up to the earth pony slaver, she slugged him right across the muzzle, sending him sprawling on the ground.

“You dare presume to speak for the Slave King unbidden!” she demanded, giving him a hard look.

“When Second hears what you’ve done to me, he’ll…” the slaver said, as he tried standing, only to be slapped down once more by the harper.

“I don’t see Second anywhere, do you?” she hissed, her ruby eyes sparkled, hinting at further violence if the pony decided to continue with his belligerence. Turning towards Dawson, she hostilely pointed a finger at him. “And as for you, how dare you!”

“How dare I do what?” he asked, confused why she was so angry with him.

Walking up to him, and wearing a stern look that threatened to make him wither away, she stood right in his face. “How dare you leave without saying goodbye,” she whispered, as she hugged him tightly. Holding him against her, she smiled. “I’ll miss you, Dawson.”

Surprised by her behavior, and caught unawares by her embrace, he hugged her as well. “I’m sorry, Melody, mother wanted to leave as quickly as possible. I didn’t think you’d have time, with all the wedding preparations going on.”

Holding onto his shoulders, she looked into his brown eyes and smiled. “I’ll always have time for you little brother,” she said, before looking at the Lady Zephyr and the nervous slaver. “And it’s a good thing I decided to see you off too, so I could stop you before you did something foolish.”

“But this trash has a griffin,” he protested, pointing towards the shackled griffin inside the slaver’s cart.

“He also has several ponies, and a donkey,” she pointed out. “Are you going to risk war with the Domain of Earth for their freedom as well?”

“It’s just not right!” he shouted, angry that he could do nothing to save them from a decade of slavery.

“Be that as it may, this pony is within his rights as a legitimate merchant, to move slaves,” she said, pointing towards his wagon.

“How can you defend what he’s doing?” Dawson asked, bewildered that somefeather as kindhearted as Melody would be okay with slavery.

“Don’t be such a pony, Dawson,” she replied, giving him a pointed look. “Besides, your hands are as dirty as his, remember what happened with Gunhilde.”

“I…” he stammered, realizing she was right. He was no better a feather then the pony slaver. He’d sold Gunhilde into slavery, and even accepted the money for her sale. Looking down at his talons, he felt sick. Knowing he had no place to judge the pony slaver, he turned to join his mother’s side.

“It’s alright, Dawson,” she said, rubbing her talon against his back. “We can’t do anything to save this griffin, but when we return to the North, we can ensure nofeather else becomes a slave.”

“I wouldn’t say that, Lady Zephyr,” Melody said with a slight smile. Looking at the slaver, her smile turned malicious. “I’ll need to see your bills of sale for these slaves.”

“This is harassment!” he seethed, angry that he was wasting so much of his time with these foreigners and half breeds.

“You know, transporting slaves without a bill of sale is a capital offense,” she reminded him, perhaps you’re a smuggler after all.”

“No, I’m an honest merchant just trying to get by,” he angrily said, annoyed by yet another delay in his schedule. Pulling out the bills of sale from his saddlebag, he handed them to her. “As you can see, they each bear the seal and signature of the overseer of the slave market in Shadehoof.”

Shadehoof was a large coastal port city that straddled three domains, Earth, Water, and the princesses’ domain in central Equestria. It was also the favored place for smugglers to fence their slaves to the Domain of Earth. Though the rules put in place by the Slave King, made acquiring new slaves in the south difficult; for a few bits and with the right connections, documents could easily be forged, making an illegally smuggled victim, into a properly documented slave. It was no secret, that slaves originating from the Shadehoof slave market, were most likely once free ponies stolen from their homes.

“Shadehoof, how convenient,” Melody murmured, suspecting the slaver was in actuality a smuggler, trafficking slaves illegally, in direct opposition to the Slave King’s law.

“Now that you’ve seen my bills of sale, I demand to be allowed to be about my business,” he said, waiting for them to be returned to him.

“I’m afraid there’s a problem, your paperwork seems to be missing,” she remarked, holding the bills of sale in her hand.

“What the Hades are you on about, you nag!” he roared, seriously peeved that she was messing with him. “You’re holding the paperwork in your hoof.”

“What paperwork?” she asked, wearing a bemused smile at his consternation.

“You know very well, what paperwork!” he shouted.

“Oh, do you mean this paperwork?” she said, holding it in front of him.

Angry at being treated so poorly, the earth pony attempted grabbing the bills of sale from her grasp. Before he could grab them with his mouth, they burst into flames, releasing grey smoke, instead of the proper magical green that official documents released when burned.

“Counterfeiting official documents is a serious offense, especially when it comes to bills of sale,” she said, wagging her finger disapprovingly at him. “The Slave King doesn’t approve of slave smuggling.”

“Fine, I’ll pay the fine, bribe, or whatever at the nearest post, and be on my way with my merchandise,” he said, angry at being discovered.

“Lady Zephyr,” she asked, grabbing the slaver’s key ring and handing them to Dawson. “Would you and your son be willing to escort these ponies across the border to central Equestria?”

Grateful for her aid, in freeing the griffin she was unable to help, she nodded. “Yes,” Lady Zephyr said. “It would be an honor to.”

“What!” the slaver exclaimed, angry when he realized that he was being relieved of his property. “You can’t do this to me, I work for Second.”

“As I already established, Second isn’t here,” she said, bending down and looking him in the eye menacingly. Summoning up a small flame from her fingertips, she smirked. “Besides, you’re lucky all you’re losing is a few slaves. As I recall, Dawson wanted to see if ponies landed on their hooves or not.”

“You… you wouldn’t dare!” the pony stammered in anger and fear.

“Oh, wouldn’t I?” she said, holding up her fist threateningly.

“Fine, you can have them, but I expect to be compensated for my loss,” he demanded.

Removing a coin purse from her belt, she opened it up, counted out its contents, and threw it at his hooves.

Picking it up, he carefully tested its weight, before looking inside. “Hey,” he said, handing the purse back to her. “There’s only five hundred bits here. That’s barely enough to cover my expenses, those slaves would be worth over ten thousand bits in Neo Vale’s slave market.”

Nodding in agreement, Melody took out another purse and emptied half the contents of the first into the second. When she was done, she handed it back to the slaver. “Here’s three hundred bits,” she said. “If you still think I’m being unfair, I’ll happily reduce it even further.”

“May the Pit claim you!” he snarled in anger. Hitching himself back up to the now empty wagon, he spat once. “Second will hear of this!”

“Get out of here, before I decide to let Lady Zephyr exact her revenge on you!” Melody called after him.

Fearing for his life, the pony slaver galloped away.

Turning to Lady Zephyr, Melody bowed. “Oh behalf of the Domain of Earth, Lady Zephyr, please accept our apologies for the abduction of your subject,” she said, looking up at her.

“It’s I, that should be apologizing to you, Melody,” she said, looking fondly at her son. “If you didn’t arrive when you did, Dawson might have done something regrettable.”

“A monster like that deserves nothing less!” Dawson angrily argued.

“Do you deserve that fate? Do I?” Melody asked, while looking down at her hands. “My hands are no cleaner than his. I’m a greater monster then he could ever hope to be.”

“But you helped free them,” he objected, confused how she could even consider herself anywhere near as wicked a feather as the pony slaver.

“But there’s so many I failed to free, and others I helped enslave for the Slave King,” she said, as her normally cheerful smile faded to sorrow. “Perhaps one day, the Domain of Earth can become a kinder land. A place where nofeather will ever be enslaved again, at least that’s my dream.”

“That’s a worthy dream, Melody,” Lady Zephyr said. “Maybe one day, your father will help you see it.”

“Is that why you let him go?” Dawson asked, wondering why she was so merciful.

“Yes, maybe next time he’ll choose a better path,” she said, looking at the retreating pony as he slowly melted away into the scenery, while her eyes welled with tears.

Seeing her distress, Dawson walked to her, wrapped his talons around her, and gave her a gentle hug. “Melody, no matter what you’ve done,” he said. “Somefeather as kind and full of joy as you, could never be a monster.”

Wiping her eyes, against her sleeve, she looked up at him. “Thanks, little brother,” she said, sniffing twice. “Don’t be a stranger, you’ll always be welcome in the South.”

Nodding once, he let her go, and walked over to join his mother who was busy freeing the former slaves. As they prepared to head back north, Melody tossed him a black coin. Catching it in his talons, Dawson examined it closely. It was made from pure arcanum, bore the Slave King’s image, and seemed to glow with a soft green light.

“Should anyfeather question you about your new friends,” she said, pointing towards the freed slaves. “That coin will show you as having the full authority of the Slave King behind you. Before I go, do you have any messages you want me to pass on to anyfeather?”

“Thank you, Melody,” he said, placing the coin inside a pouch on his belt. Thinking of her offer, he lightly blushed. “If you see Dame Squall, tell her I’m sorry I was unable to say good bye before my departure.”

Offering him a smirk, she gave him a teasing smile. “I’ll make sure she knows,” she said, taking off into the air. “Dawson, until we meet again. Until then, stay safe little brother.”

Waving farewell to his half-sister, he turned to assist his mother with the task of helping the ponies to stand up on their hooves. “So a seapony?” Lady Zephyr asked, giving her son a playful smile.

When he heard his mother asking about Dame Squall, his face flushed red with embarrassment. “It’s not like that!” he protested, trying to avoid his mother’s prying eyes.

“It’s not like what?” she replied, removing the shackles from a young foal.

“She’s just a friend,” he insisted, refusing to indulge his mother’s curiosity.

“She’s quite beautiful, isn’t she?” she asked, giving him an affectionate nip with her beak.

“Yeah, mother, she is,” he agreed, before catching himself. “I mean, she’s pretty for a seapony.”

“Dawson, you’re so much like your father,” she said, sighing with longing and regret.

“I love you, mother,” he said.

"I love you too, my son,” she replied.

As they finished freeing the rest, from the chains that held them captive, they said nothing, as they shared the love and affection they held for each other.

*****

“Bring the prisoner forward,” he ordered, his voice utterly devoid of any emotion. His normally burning green eyes, seemed to sputter, as if the magic powering them was about to be snuffed out. Looking at the prisoner being escorted by Nightmare, if he still possessed a heart, it might have broken. The once proud doomhound, who’d once commanded the greatest army Equestria had ever known, now seemed a shell of his former self.

His once vibrant blue, ethereal body, was now the color of weak ice. And his normally immaculately cared for armor, was poorly arrayed, and groaned and creaked as he walked to meet his king’s judgment. Truly, Scourge, the Hunter, had seen better days.

Looking down on the one he’d once considered friend, he sighed as the strain of this inordinate task loomed over him. “In light of the many centuries of service you’ve offered the realm, Scourge,” he said, looking into the doomhound’s eyes. “And in the interests of justice, I have decided to allow you counsel, before passing judgment on you.”

Aria, who sat in the gallery behind the defendant’s dais, exhaled, letting out a long sigh of relief. Master Scourge, would be given a chance to defend himself after all!

“Scourge, the Hunter, First of the Nine, and Master of ‘The Order of the Shadow’,” the Slave King said, looking down sternly at him from his stone throne. “You stand accused of the theft of The Vendetta, conspiracy to commit treason against the Domain of Earth, resisting arrest, colluding with your liege lord’s enemies, conspiracy to commit treason against your liege, and dereliction of duty. How do you answer? Before speaking, you may consult with counsel. Princess Celestia, has graciously offered to provide counsel for your defense, if you wish it.”

When he mentioned her, she walked over towards the defense’s dais, and waited for Scourge to answer.

“My king, allow me to spare you the embarrassment of a trial,” he plaintively said, wishing that his sentencing would commence, so he could end his shame.

“Scourge,” the Slave King replied, pointing his finger at the doomhound. “You will be tried in accordance with the law, so all might know that justice was done here today. Do you desire counsel?”

From her position by her master’s side, Nightmare stared hatefully at him. You’ll pay for your treason against our lord and master! her eyes screamed at him. And for playing with my emotions.

Lowering his head, he shook it affirmatively, and walked towards the defendant’s dais.

“Let the record show that, Celestia, the Radiant, is offering counsel here today,” he said, leaning back against his throne. “Scourge, I’m offering you a recess, so that you might confer with your counsel, before answering the charges.”

Sitting before Celestia on his haunches, Scourge looked at her skeptically. “My guilt is beyond question,” he said. “When I agreed to assist you, I knew what the consequences of betraying my friend would be. Why do you seek to defend me?”

“Because, Scourge, you deserve better then to suffer an ignominious end,” she replied.

“Such is the fate of all traitors,” he told her, wishing he could be spared the humiliation of a trial, and move right to his sentencing.

“Scourge,” she gently said. “A spirit as noble as yours could never be a traitor.”

“Yet here I am, Celestia,” he said. “Guilty of treason, all the same.”

“I’ll see to it that you’re spared,” she told him. “Because I promised you, I’d protect your master from all harm. And losing his friend, would be a grievous blow to him.”

“How do you propose to do that, Celestia?” he said, looking up at the Slave King once, before turning back to face her. “The evidence against me is damning, and the truth even more so.”

“Then it's the truth that will set you free,” she said, offering him a kind smile.

“What do you think he’ll do, when you reveal your part in this?” he worriedly asked her. “Do you think he’ll allow your transgression against him to go unanswered, unreciprocated?”

“Don’t worry, Scourge, I’m a big mare, I can take care of myself,” she said, lowering her head to him. “But thank you for concern, all the same.”

“But what about the consequences?” Scourge asked, knowing that once the revelation for his treason being precipitated by Celestia was known to his master, his wrath would burn hot. “The peace between our realms may not last, if this comes to light. Allow me to accept the blame. No one else need suffer for this.”

Greatly touched by his offer to fully accept all blame, and by his concern for the well being of her subjects, she lowered her horn and touched his arcanum armor with it. As her divinity infused his armor, he could feel the great love she held for him and all others, entering his spirit. He could see the Summerlands clearly now, the memories of that beautiful place, long gone from his mind, came rushing back to him. Slowly, the sickly ice blue coloring of his spirit deepened, returning back to the vibrant blue it once was.

Had he still had eyes, Scourge would have openly wept with joy for the return of such beautiful memories, and the haunting melody of her voice. “Celestia, thank you,” he said, grateful beyond measure for regaining what he’d lost so long ago.

“Now let’s face his judgment together,” she said, motioning towards the Slave King, whose weakly burning eyes looked at them accusingly. “We’re ready to begin.”

Pulling on his beard, he thrummed his fingers against his throne for a moment, before nodding in agreement. “Very well, Celestia, the Radiant, proceed,” he commanded, as his voice echoed throughout the chamber.

Leaning forward, he lightly stroked Nightmare’s shoulder to calm her down, as they awaited her deliberation. Looking hatefully at both of them, she struggled to fight the urge to attack the traitor and that pony whore, who’d somehow managed to foist her unworthy sister upon her master.

As she approached his throne, Aria looked at her, and for the first time today, held hope for her master’s salvation.

*****

“I heard from your fellow chevaleresse, you had a bit of a spat with Dame Calm Breeze yesterday. Is that true?” he asked the seapony mare standing before him.

She brushed several purple locks of her mane from her face with her fin, and looked away sheepishly from her lord. “Forgive me, Lawgiver, for embarrassing you so,” she said, bowing her head in shame. “I’ll offer penance to her right away, so everything is pax with my fellow sisters.”

Placing his fin on her shoulder gently, he offered her a reassuring smile. “No, Dame Squall,” he said. “You misunderstand me. I only wish to know the reasons for your squabble.”

“Dame Calm Breeze, insulted my friend’s worth,” she told him.

“Ah, Dawson, Lady Zephyr’s son wasn’t it?” he asked, remembering him from the tournament at Bone’s Landing.

“Yes, Lord Triton,” she said, wondering if she might ever see him again.

He remembered how well the griffin-half had fought in the tournament. And from what he’d been told, regarding how the lad had saved Dame Squall’s life from the ghast at great risk to himself, he wished he had more ponies of his quality within his ranks. “My daughter, you remember better then some, what chivalry is,” he said, pleased with her, for being so willing to extend the olive branch to her fellow chevaleresse. “However, you were right in defending his honor. How can we expect to be treated honorably by everypony, if we can’t recognize the honor and worth of others, even if that somepony else might be considered an enemy.”

“It’s something I learned from Master Scourge,” she said, remembering the words he'd shared with her after her defeat at Dawson’s talons. “He told me, ‘Our master’s quarrels, needn’t be ours’.”

Lord Triton nodded thoughtfully, then sighed when he remembered the words he’d told his knights in his anger, over what he’d felt was bad form on the Slave King’s part. “Wiser words were never spoken by anypony,” he said, wondering if the prevailing attitude of his knights towards the Slave King’s denizens were partially his fault.

It was easy to condemn them all for what he considered wicked and barbaric behavior. After all, his knights were renowned throughout all Equestria as champions of justice. But if Scourge, the leader of ‘The Order of the Shadow’ could see beyond the petty rivalries that existed between the gods, maybe he’d judged them too hastily. Perhaps if somepony was willing to forget the past, and move beyond the many slights and grudges they held, there could harmony once more. Maybe that somepony could be him.

“So tell me what you truly think of Dawson,” he said, curious what her opinion of the griffin-half was.

“Well, he’s a rather unusual stallion,” she said, thinking about all the time they’d spent together over the past week. “He possess a quiet nobility, I’ve seen displayed in very few ponies. He’s brave, but a bit foolhardy at the same time. He’s courteous and kind, yet possesses a bit of a temper under all his feathers. Plus his warm brown eyes are quite lovely.”

Lord Triton raised his brow questioningly at her, when he heard her last statement. “Lovely eyes?” he asked, pulling on his mustache.

Immediately, Dame Squall’s face flushed bright red with embarrassment, when she realized what she’d told her liege lord. “Well, that is to say, he is rather handsome,” she said, stumbling over her words, as she tried recovering from her embarrassment. “I mean for a mudslinger, that is.”

“Daughter, there’s no shame in being attracted to a member of the Earth Domain,” he said, remembering his own time spent with Lady Minoa. “He seems like a fine stallion, you could pursue worse ponies among our own people. As long as he acts with honor and civility, I’d have no quarrel with him courting one of my chevaleresse.”

“Well, I’m sure he has other things to worry about,” she said, deciding that being apart from him was for the best. “I’m sure Lady Zephyr, has other plans for her son.”

“Dame Squall, who knows what the future holds for any of us,” he said with a grin. “Life is often like the battlefield, it’s quite unpredictable. All we can do, is prepare for the worst and hope for the best.”

“Thank you, Lord Triton,” she said, bowing before her liege lord.

“But when the opportunity comes around, make sure you grab it when you’re able,” he said, offering her a warm smile. “Now let’s enjoy this moment of peace, who knows how long it’ll be, before we have another opportunity like this.”

Nodding in agreement with him, Dame Squall followed her lord out of his room, and into the palace to join with the other deities of the pantheon. Each of whom, were impatiently waiting for the Slave King’s wedding to start.

*****

She was home now, and had her prize safely tucked away, as she prepared to perform the ritual. But she still found herself unhappy with how things had ended up. Luna, was marrying him instead of her. And once the ritual was completed, if he ever discovered what she’d done to him, he might never forgive her.

Opening the iron box Discord had given her, she peered inside and saw his still beating heart. It was quite a strange sight to see. Had he been mortal, removing his heart would’ve been fatal. But as the immortal Lord of Earth, his disembodied heart, was merely an oddity. She contemplated what Lord Ananse had offered her. He’d promised that by performing the ritual he’d laid out for her, that she’d receive her heart’s desire. But she desired that he love her, nothing more. And even if she somehow made him able to love once again, he’d be married to Princess Luna, who would undoubtedly be the one to benefit from this arrangement.

She wished that he’d used her gift instead. The potion she’d made for him, would’ve granted him a new heart. Though it was made at great cost to herself, she felt the price to make the one she loved whole, was worth it. But now here she was, about to inflict a grievous wound upon him, all in the hopes of making him love her. The guilt of what she was planning to do, weighed heavily on her heart. She knew this was wrong, but she had exhausted all other avenues available to her. She could only hope that if her crime was ever discovered, that he’d forgive her one day.

Knowing what needed to be done, she removed one of the feathers that was closest to the scars where half her heart had once been. Using a gold and arcanum knife, she cut herself, allowing the feather to draw the blood from her wound inside it. Once it was fully infused with her blood, she held the feather above his heart, and thrust it inside.

As the feather pierced the heart, it shuddered momentarily, before continuing to beat inside the iron box. She looked on, as her blood infused feather melted and slowly fused with the heart. She felt an icy dagger of pain ripping through her own heart, as it struggled to keep beating. Slowly, his heart began beating stronger, and took on a healthier color. Seeing that it was none the worse for the wear, she breathed a sigh of relief. Had this been some wicked plot against her beloved by Lord Ananse, she didn’t know what she would’ve done.

Closing the iron box, she placed it near the rest of the items she’d gathered over the past week in preparation of the ritual. “My love,” she whispered, shedding tears of regret. “Please forgive me…”

*****

“Have you prepared your defense?” the Slave King asked, as he ran his fingers through Nightmare’s inky black coat.

Celestia nodded to Scourge once, before returning her attention to the Slave King. “Yes, we have, Slave King,” she said, as her luxurious mane flowed by the unseen power of her divinity. “I shall prove to you, that Scourge is no traitor. Rather, he’s been nothing but a loyal and good friend to you.”

When he heard her utter the words, good friend, he gripped the armrests of his stone throne violently. Nightmare, seeing her master’s agitation, glared hatefully at Celestia for making her lord suffer so.

“That remains to be seen,” he curtly said, reliving the sting of his so called friend’s betrayal. “So than, prove that Scourge is no traitor.”

Approaching his throne, Celestia looked into the Slave King’s weakly burning eyes. “I request permission to use the Geis of Truth on the accused,” she said, waiting for him to respond.

“The Geis of Truth?” he asked, raising his brow questioningly at her. Wondering why she’d risk Scourge’s fate with such a risky tactic.

The Geis of Truth, was a special type of magic belonging to the Light Domain. Any who’d been affected by its power, was compelled to speak the truth according to their knowledge, regardless of the question. Those ensorcelled by its power, could neither obfuscate nor twist the truth. They could only speak the truth as they knew it. Though not without its faults, the Geis of Truth was incredibly useful for interrogation, and had been used by unscrupulous ponies in the past for dishonest means. Its power was so great, that Celestia had made its practice forbidden. Now, she only allowed its use in times of great need.

“Very well,” he agreed, confident it would condemn him for his betrayal. “You may use the Geis of Truth, as you question the defendant.”

Motioning for Scourge to stand before the Slave King, she activated her magic as she prepared to place the geis upon him. “Are you ready?” she asked.

“Celestia, I am,” he replied, stepping onto the raised dais used to question the accused.

Without another word, she released the built up magic in her horn. The magical energies of the spell sought out Scourge, and swirled and flowed over his arcanum armor. Deciding to prove the power of the spell, she asked him a question. “Scourge, do you consider yourself guilty?” she asked him.

“Yes, I do,” he said, lowering his head in shame.

The Slave King gave her a hard look. “So, Celestia, the Radiant, you wish to prove his innocence, and yet even he, believes himself to be guilty,” he said, angry that she thought to make a mockery of this trial.

Celestia rested her eyes on the Slave King. “Believing you are guilty, an actually being guilty, are two completely separate things,” she reminded him.

“Very well, Celestia, the Radiant,” he agreed. “But should he incriminate himself under the geis at any time, I will find him guilty of all charges.”

“Scourge,” she said, looking at the doomhound. “What is your primary function?”

“To serve and protect the Slave King, and the Domain of Earth,” he said.

“Have you ever failed in that task?” she asked.

“No, I have not,” he said, as the magical energies of the geis flowed over him.

The Slave King couldn’t believe his ears, Scourge had just said he’d never failed in his duty to protect him, yet here he was being accused of that very crime. “What trickery is this!” he demanded, giving Celestia a hard look, as he suspected her of foul play.

In response, she smiled serenely at the Slave King. “Scourge is completely under the Geis of Truth,” she matter-of-factly said. “Telling any sort of lie, would now be impossible for him.”

“But he believes himself to be guilty of treason, but also believes he’s never failed in his duty to me,” he protested at this conundrum, and disliking what he’d heard.

“As I stated earlier, Slave King, being guilty and believing you are, are not the same thing,” Celestia said, looking directly at him.

Angry with her for tricking him somehow, and making a fool of him yet again, he was about to claim the proceedings as invalid. But before he could cast summary judgment on Scourge, he found that her eyes threatened to melt his heart once again.

“You may continue with your questions, Celestia, the Radiant,” he cautiously said, feeling somewhat afraid of what might happen, if she continued piercing him with her gaze.

“Thank you, Slave King, “she said, turning her attention back towards the accused. “Scourge, you said earlier, that you felt guilty of the crimes. Yet, you also claimed to have never failed in your duty to protect the Slave King. Will you explain what you meant?”

Scourge nodded once, sighing before he answered her. “I had to choose between protecting the Slave King and the Domain of Earth from ruin, and coming to his aid when he called,” he said, reluctantly looking up at the Slave King. “I performed my duty to my king, but failed my friend.”

Hearing Scourge speak the supposed truth, rankled the Slave King. This must be Celestia’s doing! he thought. She must have somehow carefully worded the questions, in order to obtain the answers she desired. But try as he might, he was unable to determine how she’d managed to do so.

“How did you fail the Slave King?” she asked.

“I didn’t fail him,” he said, feeling conflicted by the responses the geis was forcing him to say. “I protected him from harm, and the Domain of Earth from further ruin.”

“Celestia, the Radiant,” the Slave King crossly said. “Unless you can answer to each specific charge, I’ll have to find Scourge guilty.”

Nodding her acknowledgment, she turned to face Scourge once more. “Were your actions a dereliction of your duty?” she pressed.

“No,” he replied, remembering what she’d told him in confidence. “Had I refused to act, I would’ve been remiss in my responsibility to protect the Slave King and the Domain of Earth from harm.”

The Slave King scowled when he heard their lies once more. They were trying to pass off their deception against him as reality, by wearing the truth like a second skin. However, he couldn’t discount the Geis of Truth. He felt its power, and knew how potent it was in uncovering the truth. Thus, he had no way to denounce his answer as the falsehood he knew that it was.

“Did you conspire to commit treason against either the Slave King or the Domain of Earth?” she asked, hoping that the truth, interpreted things the way she did.

“No,” Scourge said, surprised by his answer. “The only conspiracy I ever engaged in, was the one to preserve both my king and realm from ruin.”

The Slave King grimaced, Celestia had just defeated three of the six charges placed against Scourge. If things continued progressing like this, he’d have no choice but to let him go. Not that he minded sparing the doomhound, but he’s sworn that Scourge would answer for refusing to come to aid, when called out for help.

Celestia felt pleased with how things were turning out. So far she’d successfully answered three of the six charges against Scourge. However, the next three were going to be tricky to approach. “Scourge, can The Vendetta, be stolen?” she asked, deciding to take a different approach to answering the next charge.

He was taken aback by her question, as he wasn’t quite sure what she’d meant. “I don’t understand,” he said, seeking clarification.

“Then let me rephrase the question,” she said. “Has The Vendetta, ever been stolen?”

“No,” he said. “The Vendetta, can only be wielded by the pure of heart, anyhound else who touches it, would be consumed immediately by the weapon’s great rage.”

“So are you saying, that because only the pure of heart can touch the weapon, it’s incapable of being stolen?” she asked, confirming the weapon’s true nature.

“That’s correct, Celestia,” he replied.

The Slave King said nothing, it was the truth. The Vendetta, had been designed to only be used by someone worthy of it. Because the weapon would devour any who tried to do so, as such it could never actually be stolen. But there were still two charges they had to evade, and he was certain no amount of twisting the truth would allow them to escape justice.

“When confronted by Nightmare for possessing The Vendetta, did you resist arrest?” Celestia asked, giving her a careful look.

“No, she desired something else entirely,” Scourge said, feeling slightly embarrassed about their earlier altercation.

Nightmare’s hackles rose, as she glared at them threateningly. You'd better keep your muzzles shut if you know what’s good for you! her eyes threatened.

Noting her anger, Celestia decided to spare her any further embarrassment. “Scourge, at any point, did Nightmare actually try arresting you?” she asked.

“No, I surrendered myself willingly,” he said. “After eluding her, she confronted me about my possession of The Vendetta, and leapt on me. After fighting with her for some time, I willingly surrendered, and followed her back to the palace.”

And that’s five, the Slave King thought, realizing that Scourge might not only end up cleared of all charges, but also have to be rewarded for his service. It all came down to the final charge against him. So far, Celestia had been careful to avoid asking about his accomplices. Once exposed, he could try the others for their part in this affair, and punish Scourge for being their ringleader.

“Celestia, the Radiant,” the Slave King said. “I will question Scourge, about the final charge against him.”

When she heard his desire to question him about the final charge, she laid back her ears worriedly. As Scourge’s counsel, she was within her rights to protest this irregularity. He didn’t have the right to cross-examine the accused, until she was finished with all her questions. “Slave King, I object to this,” she said. “I’m not finished asking all my questions to the accused yet.”

Scourge looked to her, and shook his head no. “Celestia, it’s alright,” he said. “Allow him to ask his questions.”

“Are you sure?” she said. “He’ll be free to ask you anything, and I won’t be able to aid you in any way.”

“I’m sure, Celestia,” Scourge said, willing to answer his liege’s questions.

Pleased that Scourge had given his consent, the Slave King asked his question. “Which of my enemies have you colluded with?” he asked, glaring down at his former friend.

“Only one, my king,” he said, fully prepared to reveal the identity of his coconspirator.

“Then speak their name,” the Slave King commanded.

“It was Second,” Scourge admitted. “However, he didn’t participate in this scheme willingly. To enlist his aid, I forced his paw.”

“I will deal with Second for his treason later, Scourge,” the Slave King said, pointing a finger angrily at him. “But there was another in this plot against me. I want the names of all my enemies, which colluded with you against me!”

“Slave King, Second was the only one of your enemies, who participated in this plan,” Scourge reiterated.

The Slave King scowled, although the Geis of Truth was still active, he was sure that he was being lied to. “Are you telling me, that you sought out Second to assist you?” he demanded, feeling highly agitated by what he was hearing.

“He was the only choice,” Scourge said. “There was nohound else I could turn to for assistance.”

This made no sense! Scourge wouldn’t have crossed him like this, for no reason. And according to the geis, it wasn’t even a betrayal, he was simply fulfilling his duties to his king. Thrumming his fingers against his stone throne, he contemplated his next question. Suddenly he knew what he should ask next. He knew the how, who, and why, but not the what. He hadn’t yet been told what would’ve happened, had Scourge not taken The Vendetta, and ignored his plea for help.

“Scourge, what would have happened, had you failed to act?” he asked, wishing to know what had prompted him to move against him.

“You would have died, and the Domain of Earth would have fallen into chaos, without somehound as wise as you to lead us,” he answered, grateful he’d managed to spare his friend such a fate.

“And how exactly did you come to this knowledge?” the Slave King demanded, determined to come to the bottom of this matter.

“Celestia told me,” he said, looking at the princess once, before returning to face his master’s stern gaze.

“Well the truth has finally shown its face at last,” the Slave King said, feeling rather vexed that Scourge had managed to evade all the charges placed against him, while serving his enemy. “How did you manage to fool the geis?”

“I didn’t, Slave King. I only spoke the truth,” he said, with a clear conscience.

Furious at being forced to accept what he considered bald faced lies as the truth, he tightly gripped the armrests of his throne, outraged that she was getting away with this farce. Seeing his great anger, Celestia approached him, submissively lowering her head to him.

Looking into his eyes, she silently plead with him to be rational. “Slave King, please see reason,” she said. “He’s your friend, and feared for your life. Had he not acted, you would have perished.”

With an aching heart and weary soul, the Slave King lowered his head in defeat. Celestia had won. She’d succeeded in leaving him bereft of his freedom and friend. Try as might, he couldn’t discount the Geis of Truth, it was absolute. Though he could strike out at her, in order to seek out a petty revenge. Such a thing was beneath him. He looked into her worry filled eyes, and sighed. Even now, he couldn’t bring himself to hate her, no matter how much he wanted to.

Deciding that it was time to cast judgment on Scourge, his onetime friend, he raised his hand and looked at the spectators sitting in the gallery. Unsurprisingly, there were very few watching things unfold. Only true friends and true enemies would dare risk being associated with a traitor’s trial, lest they be implicated in the accused’s treason. With the exception, of Aria, hardly anyone else had bothered coming. He saw Ninth, the youngest doomhound, watching the proceedings. Unlike Aria, whose distress was clearly evident, Ninth’s face revealed nothing. He couldn’t tell, whether he’d come to support him, or to castigate him for his treason.

Thoughtfully pulling on his beard for a moment, he looked down at Scourge. He seemed to be looking at him expectantly, waiting for him to respond. Reaching down to stroke Nightmare’s coat once more, he chewed on his lower lip. “I’ve come to a decision,” he said, feeling Nightmare’s anticipation of Scourge’s eminent doom beneath his fingertips. “The accused will stand, as I pronounce my verdict.”

Rising up, Scourge dutifully stood, as he waited to hear his fate. Looking at his disciple, he saw Aria looking at him, her hands balled up into fists with worry. Returning his attention to the Slave King, he nodded once, showing he was prepared to accept judgment. Returning to Scourge’s side, Celestia waited beside him, as the Slave King prepared to announce his verdict.

“Scourge, the Hunter, you’ve been cleared of all charges,” he said, while Nightmare looked up at him in disbelief.

Scourge exhaled in relief, knowing he was safe from the only punishment his king could force upon him. “Thank you, Slave King,” he said, bowing low in respect to his liege.

“You’ve served me and the Domain of Earth well,” he said, his eyes flickering weakly with woe. “I shall have to reward you for your service.”

Celestia looked at them and smiled, pleased that the Slave King had made the right choice. She’d been worried that in his anger, he might have made a rash decision. But her gambit using the Geis of Truth, had paid off, and Scourge was now safe from any further reprisals. Though he might despise or even hate her now, it was a sacrifice she was willing to make for somepony who needed it. She was relieved, that she’d managed to succeed in her plan for the Slave King. He’d survived this ordeal intact, was marrying Luna, and still had his loyal friend to protect him.

Noticing her happiness at the outcome, the Slave King scowled. Though there was nothing he could to do to avenge himself in this matter, he would make sure she knew he wouldn’t forget this. “Scourge,” he said, looking down at the doomhound. “Though you’ve served me well, I can no longer call you my friend.”

Scourge lowered his head sadly at the announcement. “I understand my king,” he said, feeling hollow and empty inside.

“This trial is adjourned,” the Slave King said, folding his hands into his lap. “Everyone leave, I wish to be alone now.”

As the few spectators in attendance filtered out, he watched in envy as Aria hugged her master tightly in relief. The bond they held was strong. Almost as great as the one he’d once shared with his former friend. Now all alone, except for Celestia, who was looking at him with concern, and Nightmare who scowled at her for her intrusion, he slumped back into his throne.

“What are you still doing here, Celestia, the Radiant?” he bitterly asked, burying his face into his hands.

“Slave King, I…” she said, before Nightmare stood between them.

Get out, you pony whore! her eyes screamed in anger, while her muscles tensed in preparation to attack.

Sensing her anger and great desire to attack, he whistled sharply, bringing her to heel. “Nightmare, leave us,” he commanded, pointing towards the exit.

Reluctantly, she exited the room, before giving the one who’d hurt her king, one last hate filled glare.

Looking up at the ceiling, the Slave King slouched in his throne, totally spent. He no longer had the strength to care. “Speak your mind, and be on your way,” he said, wishing things had ended differently between them.

“Slave King, hate me if you must,” she pleaded with him. “But Scourge is your friend, and he loves you greatly. Don’t cast him aside.”

“He made his choice when he sided with you against me,” he said, nearly overcome by heartache.

“A true friend is a beautiful thing,” she said, nuzzling him gently. “Don’t throw that away, although you may be angry now, he cared enough to risk your wrath, in order to save your life.”

He felt her at his side. His grief was nearly as strong as when he wept in the mine all those centuries ago. Removing his crown, he looked at her accusingly. “I’m alone again,” he said, dropping his crown to the ground in defeat, as his eyes plead with her to answer why she’d wished to hurt him like this.

“I’m truly sorry,” she said, cradling him with her wing, as she rested her head against his.

Sitting together in silence, she shared his sorrow, and mourned with him. Resting against her, he found the comfort she gave him odd, considering how angry he’d felt at her. Though he had no heartbeat, she felt the thrumming of the Earth pulsing through him. Her only desire had been to make him whole, but instead, she’d wounded him deeply. Picking up his crown, she placed it in his lap.

“Slave King,” she said, looking into his scarred face. “Friends forgive each other.”

Looking down at his iron crown, he didn’t know if he had the strength to forgive Scourge. “I can’t, Celestia. I just can’t,” he said, struggling against himself, wishing he possessed Snowe’s temperance and strength of character.

“Yet, you’ve forgiven me,” she countered, looking him in the eye.

“Who said I’ve forgiven you,” he answered, resting against her as he felt her heartbeat. “I can’t bring myself to hate you, but I’m still angry.”

Nuzzling him gently, she held him tightly with her wing. “I’m sorry, Slave King,” she apologized, truly sorry she’d caused him such grief.

“For what?” he curtly asked, wondering what had provoked her apology. “For meddling in my affairs, for forcing me to marry against my will, for robbing me of the one friend I had left?”

“For everything,” she said, sighing with regret, and wishing she possessed the foresight required, so she could spare everypony the fallout of her failures. “Had I tried harder, maybe you wouldn’t have been banished in the first place, and none of this would’ve been necessary.

He remembered the events that had led up to his banishment. Slaying Lord Darkpaw, when he’d refused to stand down, agreeing to spare the diamond dogs who’d enslaved him, and slain his friend and daughter. Luna’s subsequent denouncement of him, for the barbarity he displayed during the fight. Celestia’s attempt at petrifying him like Discord, in order the spare the mortals from his wrath, and removing his own heart in response. And his subsequent years of madness, as a result of his stubborn refusal to let go of his thirst for revenge against those who had wronged him.

“You’ve nothing to be sorry for,” he told her, looking down at his metal arm. “Beyond Discord and Jormungandr, you were the only ally I had at the moot.”

“Perhaps had I…” she said, before he interrupted her.

Placing his hand on shoulder, he looked up into her eyes. “No, you showed me kindness, when the others only wished to destroy me,” he said, remembering the events that transpired during his first moot. “You rescinded my banishment from your domain, for a mere pittance.”

As he recounted the aid she’d given him over the years, he realized, he owed her quite a bit. And though marriage was the last thing he desired, what was done was done, there was little point in fighting against it any further.

“Celestia, the Radiant, I foreswear any vengeance against you for this,” he told her, deciding to eschew any further retribution against his sister-in-law.

Though she was happy that he wouldn’t seek to avenge himself against her for Scourge’s part in her plan, she was still concerned for the doomhound’s well being. “What about your friend, Scourge?” she asked, reminding him of his friend’s need for forgiveness as well.

“You ask a hard thing of me, Celestia, the Radiant,” he said, his heart no longer hurting quite so much.

“The right thing often is,” she told him, holding him tightly against her with her wing.

Picking up his iron crown, he looked at its smooth surface. Running his finger along it, he wondered if he’d have the courage to ever forgive him. Placing his crown back on his head, he looked at her once more.

“Perhaps with time, I’ll be able to,” he said, glad he’d spent this time with her.

“Your wedding is going to start shortly,” she said, removing her wing from his shoulder.

“I suppose there’s no chance we could stay here, and forget all about it?” he hopefully asked.

“My sister would be inconsolable, if you stood her up,” she said, pulling him to his feet with her magic.

Knowing he had no choice but to face the music, he walked with Celestia out of the room towards the palace’s old gardens, where his wedding was to be held. As each step brought him inexorably closer to his fate, he wondered what surprises married life would hold in store for him.

Author's Note

Thank you gentlereader for reading chapter 16 of The Book of Water: The Marriage of the Slave King, as always comments are appreciated. I approached this chapter from the angle of trying to come up with some sort of reasonable resolution for the tension between the Slave King, Scourge, and Celestia. Also I wanted to explore how Dawson might react when his own anger at the slavery prevalent in the south, was thrown back in his face. I think Melody has a good point there, can Dawson really justify his righteous indignation towards the pony slaver, when his hands are dirty as well?

In this chapter we see Dawson and his mother, Lady Zephyr on their way home. Bemoaning his lack of opportunity to impress his father, he spies injustice and seeks to right it. But finds the wicked within their rights. Lady Zephyr seems to regret her choice to let the Slave King go his own way, while Melody confesses her guilt and wishes for change. And does it appear that both Dawson and Dame Squall miss each other more then they're letting on? And what exactly is Lady Suzaku's ritual supposed to do to the Slave King's heart? Meanwhile Celestia fulfilled her promise to the Scourge to protect the Slave King from all harm, but will the Slave King ever forgive them for their part in hurting him?

Find out the answers to these questions and more, in the next exciting chapter of The Book of Water: Marriage of the Slave King, coming to computer near you!

Once again gentlereader, thank you for reading and all your kind words and support. You make writing worthwhile. Until next time!

Chapter 17: Something Old, Something New, The Blushing Bride, and Her Reluctant Groom: Part III: Wedded Bliss and Wedded Strife

The Book of Water: The Marriage of the Slave King

A Story by TalonMach5

Chapter 17: Something Old, Something New, The Blushing Bride, and Her Reluctant Groom: Part III: Wedded Bliss and Wedded Strife

He fidgeted nervously as he waited. Normally such a thing, would’ve been of no concern for him. But now, with so many of his fellow deities’ eyes locked onto him, he found the attention somewhat unnerving.

“Slave King,” Arch Duke, Fifi le Yipyap said, standing beside him. “I sense your trepidation. What worries you so?”

“This whole wedding business, just seems off somehow,” he said, absentmindedly adjusting his black satin doublet and the Cloak of Darkpaw he wore around his shoulders.

“Why is that?” the arch duke asked, looking at his master’s numerous guests. “Feeling buyer’s remorse regarding your choice of bride?”

Thinking over his choices for wives, he saw Lady Minoa sitting beside a rather giddy looking Discord, as she drank deeply from a wine skin. She saw him looking at her, and offered him a dour look in return. She seemed none too pleased with how things had ended up, and kissed Discord deeply, before mouthing the words, My body could have been yours!

He felt the familiar hunger stirring inside him, as he watched them together. Before he could answer the arch duke, he heard a loud harrumph from behind him. Lord Triton, looked at the lip locked gods with disapproval reflected on his muzzle. He’d been selected to preside over the ceremony, since Princess Celestia would be escorting her sister to the altar. But now, he could sense the Lawgiver’s annoyance at the display. If he wasn’t so sure of the intense dislike the seapony held for the minotauress, he would’ve sworn it was jealousy. Previously, both of them had shared a night together, which on the morning after, almost resulted in violence between the two. He lightly chuckled as he wondered, if forced to marry her, how the Lawgiver would react.

“Do you find something humorous, Slave King?” Lord Triton asked, as he glared with disapproval at the two, who were shamelessly making a scene together.

“Oh it’s a private joke, Lord Triton,” he said, offering him a slight smile.

When he heard his response, he had a good idea exactly what he was thinking of. “I’m glad you’re in such a good mood, old chum,” he said, hoping to change the subject. “I was feeling a bit worried, that we would’ve had to drag you to the altar.”

The Slave King remembered what Celestia had told him about her sister, and shook his head. “The bride would probably have my head, if I tried running,” he said, remembering the power she displayed back in the mine.

“Princess Luna, can be a bit tightly wound up at times,” he said, remembering his own short lived marriage with her. “Eventually, I’m sure you’ll be able to help even her out.”

“So what’s the story between you and Lady Minoa?” the Slave King asked.

“She was my first wife, and our marriage didn’t quite work out,” he said, remembering the tumultuous first age without an ounce of affection.

He’d heard tales of the first age of ponies, and was unsurprised. He wondered if his marriage to Luna would end up the same. “Doesn’t it seem counterintuitive, to marry with your divorce already planned out in advance?” he asked, remembering what Celestia had said about only having to remain married for a millennium or so.

Lord Triton stroked his mustache thoughtfully for a minute, before looking back at the Slave King. “Though the love you share at first might be strong,” he said. “With time, love changes to apathy, and then it eventually withers away and dies. We’ve found it better to separate, before hate takes hold.”

He still remembered Little Bleu, and how much she meant to him, even after these many centuries. Even though he was the heartless monster, he couldn’t comprehend loving her any less, even if he had to wait another ten thousand years before they were finally reunited.

Seeing the look of uncertainty on his face, he offered him a knowing smile. “Relax, and enjoy the moment, Slave King,” he said, admonishing him to remove any doubts from his mind. “You’ll have time enough to become bitter and jaded like the rest of us, in just as many millennium as you’ve had marriages.”

No matter what anyone said, relaxing and enjoying himself wasn’t an option for him, not as long as she was still out of his reach. Looking to his left, he saw the arch duke standing at attention, alongside Lady Suzaku’s daughters. Waiting patiently for the wedding to begin, Harmony was wearing one of her nicer dark green gambesons, a smart looking black skirt, and a black sash bearing his brand and the words The Earth is generous, in a long flowing script. Standing next to her sister, Melody looked absolutely giddy with excitement. Though he couldn’t be sure, if it was over the wedding or the new clothes she was wearing. Though he was relatively sure she had bitterly complained about not having anything she could wear, she’d somehow managed to find something suitable.

She looked just as lovely as her mother, the flowing silk crimson gown she wore, was cut suggestively, allowing anyone to admire her wings and bust. A fact that he didn’t fail to notice. Noting all the hungry male eyes in the audience studying her, he decided the next time he had a chance, to have a word with her about her choice of wardrobe. In a stark contrast to her younger sisters, Aria wore her arcanum armor which was covered with a festive looking surcoat. On her hip, she had her arcanum long knife resting in its sheath, attached to the thick leather belt she wore around her waist. Though he was sure he was in no danger, it was nice to be prepared, especially when so many still held grudges against him.

He longed to hear some reassuring words, telling him not to worry and letting him know everything was still under control. However until yesterday, Scourge had been the only one he could turn to with his concerns. But now, he had nobody else to turn to for advice. He supposed he could turn to the arch duke, but somehow the idea of turning to his former master for advice of a personal nature was unpalatable. The others weren’t any better either. Though a good commander, Aria was too temperamental to turn for advice. Melody knew how to read people, but she enjoying being silly too much, for him to ever take her suggestions seriously. And while Harmony would be a good surrogate to Scourge, she lacked his wisdom and experience. And as for Nightmare, she would most likely berate him for being such a weakling, before stalking off to maim something in order to sate her bloodlust.

“Slave King, it’s time,” Lord Triton said, bringing him out of his thoughts.

I don’t suppose you have any advice for me, Snowe? he thought, as the wedding march began playing.

Only live well, the mottled griffin replied, from the back of his mind. Live well, and be happy.

Turning to face his bride to be, he found himself caught in the icy grip of fear of the unknown. Walking beside her sister, Celestia smiled gently at him. Looking all around him, he wondered how long she’d been planning for this. Slowly, the two goddesses approached the altar, as he wondered how this latest development would affect his long term plans. Though she was covered with a delicate veil, he could see her turquoise eyes looking directly at him. He felt her gaze pierce him to his very core, and felt unease.

Hoping to distract himself, he looked away from his betrothed, and looked at the craftsmanship that went into the refurbishing of the old gardens. Less than two weeks prior, this place had been nothing but rubble, dead plants, broken statues, and fountains. But now, the ruin had been transformed into something beautiful and useful. The broken masonry was gone now, having been expertly repaired and replaced with care. The dead vines and trees had all been uprooted, and in their place, new trees and flowering vines were flourishing, providing a wonderful citrus and floral scent for his wedding.

All the dried fountains, were now in proper working order, and were releasing clear refreshing water into their pools. Though he’d never had any statues of himself commissioned, he found several bearing his image, standing alongside the statues of the rest of the pantheon that had been replaced. Spying Ringing Bells, who was seated in the back, he saw she was wearing a giddy smile, at the culmination of all her hard work. Realizing how much effort she’d put into his wedding, he decided that he’d have to properly thank her, maybe even offering her a position as his official tailor.

Looking back at the bride and her sister, he noticed they were only half way down the aisle. Suddenly it dawned on him, he knew next to nothing about weddings. Even among his own people, he only had superficial knowledge of their ceremonies and rites. The only things he could really remembered about weddings, was that there was usually a cake involved, and you were supposed to get drunk for some reason. Though he was sure eating and drinking were probably universal, what if the pantheon expected him to do something unseemly? Though he was sure Celestia would have mentioned it to him as they walked together, perhaps she thought he was already familiar with their wedding traditions. Unfortunately for him, his diamond dogs were still afraid to approach his throne for boons, let alone requests for him to preside over their wedding ceremonies, or even to attend one. And so he’d never even seen an Equestrian wedding before, his own would be the first.

He was surprised, that they hadn’t just held this ceremony inside the Spirit Realm. He imagined himself, towering over everyone in his massive elemental form, smiling before he remembered how sad she’d looked then. Lady Zephyr, he sighed, when he saw the bride approaching ever closer to him. He imagined her there under the veil and smiled. He saw her wings slightly extending in response, and realized he was being unfair to his bride to be. Luna had won the contest, and Lady Zephyr had not. Looking at his three groomsfeathers, which Melody had insisted she and her sisters call themselves. He remembered Lady Suzaku’s heartfelt pleas, and felt sorrow he couldn’t give her what she desired. He was sure both of them would have made good wives, but he was going to marry another today, and he knew so little of Celestia’s sister.

She desired him like the others. Why, he didn’t know, but enough to beat the tar out of Lady Minoa to win his hand. The very idea they thought they could force him to marry and think he’d be okay with it, was absurd. Especially on such a short timetable. He was sure it was because of some obscure law or some such. If they hadn’t approached them when they had, the loophole they used to force this marriage most likely would have expired. By now, she’d nearly completed her procession to the altar. Looking down at her, he saw Celestia looking up at him expectantly, motioning at him with her head. Did she expect him to escort the bride, the rest of the way? Nonsense. If he was being forced to marry, he’d do it on his own terms, and no one else’s.

Seeing his hesitation, Celestia plead to him with her eyes, begging him to escort her sister the remainder of the way. From beneath her veil, the bride looked at her husband to be, and smiled. Sighing in resignation, he approached her, held out his arm, and walked with her to the bride’s side of the altar. Returning to the groom’s side, he looked at Celestia momentarily, before turning to Lord Triton.

The Lawgiver saw the Slave King looking expectantly at him, and lightly chuckled. Finally, he was going to be married to an upstanding mare, and safely out of his mane for at least the next century or two. Though he didn’t know who to feel more sympathy towards, the bride or the groom. She’d certainly have her fins full with him. He was cunning and belligerent. She’d have a struggle ahead of her, breaking him in and trying to make him into a proper husband. And he wouldn’t have it any easier. She was headstrong and prone to theatrics, he’d have to learn to compromise, if he ever wanted find any peace while being married to her.

“What’s the holdup, Lawgiver?” the Slave King asked, feeling annoyed by the delay.

“Oh, I’m just enjoying the moment, Slave King,” he answered, giving him a satisfied smile.

“Lord Triton…” Celestia warned, worried the Slave King might bolt if things didn’t begin soon.

Taking the hint, Lord Triton looked at them, before turning his attention towards the Slave King’s guests. “We are gathered here today, to witness a wondrous event,” he said, gesturing towards the bride and groom. “The marriage of the Slave King, Lord of Earth, to Princess Luna, the Beautiful, Lady of Night. It is with great joy, that I bind these two as one, in divine matrimony. If any present, knows of any reason that these two should not be joined, speak now.”

“I do, old friend!” an angry voice shouted from the back of the garden.

Immediately, the audience broke out into excited whispers, wondering who it was that had interrupted the proceedings.

“Silence, everypony. Who said that?” Lord Triton commanded, over the whispering crowd.

“I did!” a white reindeer with gilded antlers shouted, while stomping his silver shod hooves in challenge.

“Lord Cerynitis, have you no shame!” Princess Celestia shouted, worried about her sister’s temperament regarding his former status as her friend and lover.

“You dare speak to me of shame, Celestia,” he replied, trembling with fury at the sight of his beloved moonflower, waiting to be defiled by that monster. “When you willingly offer your sister to be sullied by that degenerate brute, in order to sate his perverse lusts.”

Looking at Luna, she saw her sister glaring angrily at him for ruining her wedding. “I warned you earlier, Lord Cerynitis,” she said, charging up her horn, and preparing to banish him back to his own domain.

“Hold it!” he said, walking towards her. “By the old laws, I have the right to challenge the Slave King for Luna’s hoof.”

Sternly narrowing her eyes at the Lord of Winter, she depowered her horn. Although the law was ancient, he was within his rights as Luna’s former mate and paramour, to challenge the Slave King for the right to claim her sister as his mate. While she was worried for their safety, she was mainly concerned that the Slave King would refuse the challenge. Something that would surely break her sister’s heart, and dash any hope she held for their future together.

Lord Triton looked at his friend and shook his head, disappointed by how far he’d fallen. The stallion he once knew, would never have done this, no matter how badly he missed and desired Luna. Turning to the groom, he looked at him intently. “Slave King, do you accept the challenge?” he asked, waiting to see if he would agree to fight for her fin or not.

He wanted to laugh. Though the Lord of Winter thought himself his mortal enemy, his actions here today had been a great boon to him. Now he could escape this damn wedding, and unwanted marriage without consequence. Let’s see those goddesses try roping him back to the altar in the future. He’d ensure any future interactions would be through intermediaries only. If they absolutely demand that he get married, he’d sooner take a string of mortal wives. He’d…

Turning to look away from Celestia and the others, he noticed her crying beneath her veil, and felt his heart melt. Damn it all to, Hades, Celestia! he seethed, upset that she’d somehow made him soft. Knowing he’d regret it later, he stepped towards the Lord of Winter, and tightened his metal hand into a fist.

“You’ve interrupted my wedding, and made my bride cry, Rimefrost,” he said, giving Lord Cerynitis a hard look. “I’ll give you a single opportunity to leave, before accepting your challenge.”

Celestia’s heart leapt for joy, he was willing to fight for her sister after all! Had he refused to accept the challenge, she was sure she would’ve been absolutely crushed. Though she generally disapproved of duels like this, it gladdened her heart seeing the Slave King’s willingness to fight, and knew it would reassure her sister of her worth.

“I’ll never stand down to you, monster!” Lord Cerynitis screamed, brandishing his rune covered spear with his magic. “If nodeer else is willing to stop you, then I’ll have to be the one to do it.”

“Then so be it, Lord Cerynitis,” the Slave King said, as his guests watched things unfold between them. “I accept your challenge.”

“Now hold on you two,” Lord Triton said, trying to regain some semblance of order, before being interrupted by Lord Cerynitis’s angry voice.

“Shut up, Triton!” he growled, letting out all the rancor and rage he held for his closest friend. “You’ve sided with him against me, for the last time. Today, Slave King, one of us will stand, and the other will die. Using only weapons, no magic.”

“Your terms are accepted,” the Slave King said, taking a stance that suggested he was ready to fight.

“But you’re without a weapon!” Princess Celestia objected, worried he might get hurt during their duel.

“Have at you!” Lord Cerynitis shouted, charging the Slave King with his spear overhead, pointing its venom seeping tip directly at his heart.

As the spear flew towards him, the Slave King raised his metal arm, easily deflecting the strike. With his free hand he motioned for his opponent to try again. Enraged at his opponent’s lack of respect, he tried thrusting the spear at his feet, but was stymied at each turn as the Slave King moved his feet out of the way of each strike.

On his fourth thrust, he found that the Slave King had somehow managed to use his toes to stop the spear, before disarming him by smashing his foot down, and trapping his spear beneath it. Trying to free the spear with his magic, he was unprepared for the Slave King’s counter attack. Raising his metal hand up, he smashed the reindeer across the muzzle with it, knocking him to the ground.

Enraged at being humiliated in front of his doe and peers, Lord Cerynitis stood up and lowered his antlers at the Slave King. Each of his gilded prongs were sharpened to points, and would be deadly to most. Ready to continue their fight, the Slave King took a wide stance, providing an ample target for his foe, waiting for the Lord of War to charge at him. Annoyed that his opponent had managed to evade his spear, Rimefrost ran towards him, with his prongs pointed forward.

The Slave King said nothing, as the reindeer charged him. Instead, he waited patiently for him to come to him. Lord Cerynitis smiled with glee, as he imagined how satisfying it would be to gore that insufferable wayfarer prat. Though he wouldn’t be able to do any permanent harm to his enemy, it would allow him enough time to distract him, before dispatching him with his spear. Once he’d thrust it squarely into the monster’s chest, and had poisoned him with its venom, he was certain the effects of the poison would manifest quickly. Then it would only be a matter of time, before the rage overtook him, forcing the others to put him down once and for all.

However, things don’t always work out as planned. Especially when fighting somedeer as wily as the Slave King. Instead of feeling his enemy's flesh rip and tear as he impaled him with his prongs, he found himself being flipped onto the ground hard. Apparently, the Slave King had grabbed his antlers with his metal hand, slid forward and tripped his front legs. Which sent him tumbling forward, sprawled out on the ground unseemly, where he’s landed painfully on his back. He could feel the Slave King’s metal hand gripping his antlers hard, preventing him from moving his head. And no matter how hard he tried accessing his magic, he found its flow being interrupted somehow.

Struggling as hard as he could to free himself, he gasped in pain as he felt the Slave King’s knee smashing into his side, knocking the wind right out of him. Dazed and stunned, he felt the Slave King placing all his weight on his shoulder, making him groan. He felt his enemy’s other free arm resting heavily against his throat, as he futilely gasped for air.

Bending down, the Slave King placed his mouth near Lord Cerynitis’s ear. “As a gladiator in the arena, I learned that victory is life,” he whispered, before grinding his knee deeper into the reindeer’s shoulder, dislocating it. “Your life belongs to me now.”

“No, no, no… No!” Lord Cerynitis murmured, as he weakly cried out in despair over losing the duel, and more importantly the right to reclaim his moonflower as his bride.

The Slave King stood, and released Lord Cerynitis from the iron grip of his metal fist. Looking down, he noticed to his disappointment that his wonderful new clothing was now ripped and torn. It was a shame, he’d really liked that doublet. Lord Triton, Princess Celestia, and Princess Luna, all rushed to his side, wanting to ensure that he was unharmed. Celestia used her magic, inspecting him for wounds and lacerations, as Luna nuzzled against him tenderly. He was too tired to struggle against her affections, and let her do as she wished.

He sighed, resting his head against his bride. It’d been ages since he last fought anyone like that. He could still remember how upset Little Bleu had been with him then. He’d been fighting a burly minotaur, and all he’d been given to defend himself was a net and trident. Apparently, his master had wanted to see how much of a fight he could put up against a heavy war hammer. In the end he’d won, but not without breaking a few ribs in the process. She’d embraced him gently, and nuzzled against him in relief when he survived. If he didn’t know any better, he’d have sworn she was beside him once more.

“Lord Triton,” the Slave King wearily said, thirsting for his draught. “See to your friend.”

“We wert so worried for thy safety, dearest husband,” Luna said, embracing him tenderly. “Thy bravery in defending our honor, hast touched us deeply, beloved. We shall never forget thy gallantry.”

He wanted to laugh at the sheer audacity of it all. It was only due to a moment of weakness, that he’d allowed her tears to spur him to action. Had his resolve been a little stronger, and he’d refused to fight the bastard, he was certain that his blushing bride would certainly be singing a different tune.

With Lord Triton’s help, Lord Cerynitis managed to stand up uneasily on his hooves. His right forehoof hurt like Hades anytime he placed any weight on it. Most likely his shoulder was dislocated, and his hoof was badly sprained. Even worse, his antlers felt like they were on fire any time he tried using his magic.

Looking at his friend, he scowled in anger. “I called you my battle brother, went to war with you, bled with you,” he accused, hurt that his friend had chosen the monster over him. “I called you friend, shared my table with you, laughed and cried with you. Yet you love that beast more than me!”

Lord Triton’s heart ached and reeled from the accusations, he’d only ever wished to raise the Slave King out of the darkness that seemed to torment him. And now he was losing his dearest friend to the same grisly fate, he’d hoped to spare the Slave King from. “Cerynitis,” he pleaded, hoping beyond hope, that the Lord of Winter would repent, and put away the hate that was slowly destroying him from the inside. “Please, there’s no need for this. What must I do, to assuage your anger?”

“I’ve missed you so much, Triton, my friend,” he said, wishing things could be as they once were. But then, he noticed them standing beside each other. He saw the monster and his moon flower together, sharing a tender embrace, which made the sun dark in his eyes. Spying his blood rune spear lying on the ground behind them, he saw his chance. Channeling as much magic as he could into his antlers, he prepared to land a fatal blow against the one who thought to steal her away from him. “Monster, you can’t have her!”

Levitating the spear, he hurled it directly at his back. Confident, that his enemy wouldn’t be able to dodge it in time.

“Slave King, watch out!” Celestia said, casting a spell that deflected the spear’s trajectory slightly.

Reaching out, he caught the spear with his metal hand, before shooting a dark look towards Lord Cerynitis. The spear had narrowly missed hitting both him and Luna. Examining her, he was relieved to see she was unharmed. Looking at the weapon he held in his hand, he thrust it deeply into the stone beneath his feet. Feeling enraged that the Lord of Winter thought to strike him from behind after being spared, he reached forth with his hand, to call for the one thing his fellow deities feared above all else.

“To me, ‘Vendetta’, your master calls,” he shouted with a voice, which shook the earth beneath their feet. Within moments, the accursed weapon had flown from its resting place in the vault and onto his metal hand. He felt it pulsing with rage, as it hungered for blood.

“Slave King, stop,” Celestia said, trying to make him reconsider. “You’ve won, you don’t have to do this.”

“Step back, Celestia, the Radiant,” he said, walking towards Lord Cerynitis, who was limping as he tried escaping his wrath.

“Remember the moot, Slave King!” Lord Triton shouted after him. “Should you strike him down with it, we’ll have no choice but to strip you of your divinity.”

“If I don’t make an example of him,” the Slave King said, as he contemplated how to best use The Vendetta, on Lord Cerynitis. “They won’t stop until I’m dead.”

Worried that she’d become a widow before she was even married, Luna placed herself between the Slave King and Lord Cerynitis. “Husband, put away thy wrath,” she pleaded, not wanting to see him destroyed for a petty act of revenge. “I shall love and care for thee, until thy bristling anger is but a distant memory.”

“Wife, get behind me,” he commanded her. “I’d hate to soil your dress with his blood.”

Having ignored them all, all he could hear were The Vendetta’s, cries, as he loomed over the Lord of Winter menacingly. The weapon quivered with excitement in his hand. If it possessed the power of locomotion, it would’ve leapt forth from his hand, and devoured his enemy of its own accord.

Weak, lame, and exhausted, Lord Cerynitis decided to face his end with dignity. “Go on, monster!” he screamed, fearing his own death, yet happy that at least his moonflower would be safe from being further defiled by him. “What are you waiting for, finish it!”

In response, the Slave King backhanded him, sending him sprawling to the ground. Coughing weakly, he looked up at his executioner, closed his eyes, and thought of her, as he waited for the deathblow to come. Moments later, he flinched as heard the heavy thunk of a blade landing near his ear. Wondering why he was still alive, he looked up, and saw the Slave King standing over him.

“Why?” he asked, not understanding why his hated enemy would spare him, when that was a courtesy he wouldn’t have shown him, had their positions been reversed.

“Lord Cerynitis, I also know the pain of loss,” the Slave King said, helping him to his hooves. “But the one you love, yet lives. Where there’s life, there’s hope. Marrying Luna, the Beautiful, was never my choice. Now put away your grudge against me, Rimefrost, and leave my domain.”

He tried walking away, but found his balance was off. Looking down at his hooves, he saw why. The monster had cut off his right antler! Bending down in hopes of saving it, he tried picking it up with his mouth, only to have it sink out of reach into the depths of the Earth.

The loss was more than he could bear, as he stumbled about, favoring his lame leg, and trying desperately to escape the site of his humiliation. “Thief and despoiler!” he weakly shouted, as he unsuccessfully tried using his magic, to fly away.

“Like Lord Ouroboros before you, Rimefrost, you’ve learned the cost for crossing me,” the Slave King told him, making the rune spear sink into the earth, which was shortly followed by The Vendetta.

In silence, he returned to his place at the altar, as his guests whispered excitedly amongst themselves. Lord Triton reached out a fin towards his limping friend, before sighing in despair.

“Was that really necessary, Slave King?” he asked, unhappy how things had turned out.

“Would you have preferred I killed him instead?” the Slave King retorted.

“Well taking somepony’s antlers is just not done,” he said, admonishing him for removing something considered so important by bucks. “You might as well have emasculated him.”

“Methinks, our husband shoulds’t have gelded the knave, before sending him away with his tail between his legs,” Luna said, stamping down her hoof in anger at him, for nearly ruining her wedding with his selfishness.

“Luna, how can you say such a thing?” Celestia asked, surprised by her outburst.

“Forgive us, sister, for our unseemly outburst,” she disingenuously said, and not nearly as sorry as she implied. “He nearly ruined everything.”

Still shaken up over his friend’s behavior, he decided it would be best to continue with the ceremony. “Do any others, seek to prevent these two from becoming one?” he asked, when nopony responded, he breathed a sigh of relief. “Then we’ll proceed with the vows.”

“Luna, the Beautiful, Lady of Night? Do you accept this god as your husband, of your own will, free of any compulsion?” he asked her. “To fully accept his Domain as yours? To join with him, in his time of need? To accept his children and denizens as your own? To shield him from his enemies, and strike down his foes, regardless of who they are, on his behalf?”

“I do,” she said, looking into her husband’s eyes, and wishing to never leave his side.

“And you, Slave King, Lord of Earth. Do you accept this goddess as your wife, of your own will, free of any compulsion?” he asked, fully aware he was being forced to get married. “To fully accept her domain as yours? To join with her, in her time of need? To accept her children and denizens as your own? To shield her from her enemies, and strike down her foes, regardless of who they are, on her behalf?”

This was it, he decided. There was no turning back now. He either said yes, and accepted this farce, or say no, be stripped of his divinity, and quickly die from his missing heart. Looking down at his bride, he wondered what sort of life he could expect with her. And more importantly, what sort of life she expected him to offer her.

“Why do you wish to marry me?” he asked, refusing to say ‘I do’, until he had a satisfactory answer.

She looked up at him with confusion. “Why art thou asking this now, husband?” she said, unhappy he was embarrassing her at the altar.

“It’s a simple question, wife,” he replied. “I’m marrying you, because of the decision of the Lunar Council, because you defeated the others, because I have no other choice. Take your pick, each answer is as good as the next. I need to know why you’re marrying me, Luna, the Beautiful.”

“Because we love thee, husband,” she replied with heartfelt sincerity.

The Slave King said nothing, as everyone around him began whispering in curiosity to each other. Lord Triton, looked at him expectantly.

“Well, you have your answer now, Slave King,” he said. “Do you take her to be your wife?”

Weighing his options, the Slave King did the only thing he could. “I do,” he said, with a heavy sigh.

“Then, by the power and authority of the Law,” Lord Triton said. “I pronounce you husband and wife. You may now combine your magic, and kiss the bride.”

Drawing energy into her horn, she reached out to him with her magic. He could feel it swirling around him, as it sought to combine with his. She looked up at him through her veil expectantly, and smiled softly at him. Drawing out his own magic to meet hers, he felt the air around them pulse with power. Lifting up her veil, he looked into her turquoise eyes, as he felt her magic trying to mingle with his. He could feel her power caressing his, and he thought back to how she looked, sitting inside the fountain on the night of his renewal.

He would be lying if he didn’t admit the strong attraction he felt for her then, seemed to be affecting him now. Her eyes looked into his, inviting him to draw closer, to accept what she was offering him. He found the thought appealing, and finally relented, releasing any control he held over his magic. Immediately it sought out hers, as he leaned forward. Smiling warmly at him, she pursed her lips and closed her eyes, waiting eagerly for his lips to grace hers. When they kissed, he drew in his breathe sharply, when her magic nearly overpowered his.

Under the influence of the kiss, he felt his normally pale skin flush. Pulling away from her, he saw she was blushing with passion as she looked into his eyes hungrily. He could feel her desire, as he withdrew his magic from her hold. When he turned to face his guests, they broke out into cheers, as the musicians started playing a celebratory tune. Now that the ceremony was finished, they were excited to move onto the wedding feast, so they could eat his food and get drunk on his potent wine and spirits.

Celestia looked at the newlyweds with affection, she was so pleased that things had worked out all right in the end. There was so many times things could have gone south, but in the end, her plan succeeded. The Slave King was safely married to her sister, and Luna had someone to love. Now she only needed to wait, and soon the Slave King would reciprocate her sister’s love. Though her plan wasn’t without casualties, there were the Slave King’s former lovers, Lady Zephyr and Lady Suzaku, each of whom had desired him to be their husband. Scourge, the Hunter’s, friendship with his master was hanging by a thread. And Lord Cerynitis, would most likely seek revenge against those he felt had wronged him. She could only hope, that would be a problem for another century.

Luna stood next to her husband. Overjoyed, at having found somepony she could love once again. No longer could the voice mock and deride her for her faults. She had a powerful husband to call her own now, none would dare conspire against their combined strength. She could scarcely wait for the night to come, she would raise the moon for him, and finally share with him what she’d been denied during his renewal. She felt giddy just thinking about it. Looking at the other goddesses in attendance, she knew she was the envy of the pantheon, and basked in the welcome attention. Today was certainly a wonderful day.

Now that he was a married man, he didn’t feel any different. He’d always supposed such momentous occasions should affect him somehow, but just as when he’d first become the Lord of Earth, he was still the same man he was before. He began feeling the earlier fight’s exertions, starting to take its toll on him. He longed to drink his draught and renew himself once more. Licking his dry and thirsty lips, he was surprised when he saw his goblet levitating before him.

“Slave King, we thought you might be thirsty,” he heard someone say from behind him. Turning around, he was pleased to see Gunhilde and Chrysalis carrying several bottles containing his Draught of Renewal.

“Thank you,” he said, allowing Gunhilde to fill his cup. As he drank, he felt its restorative powers wash over him, restoring him to full strength.

“My king,” Chrysalis said, suggestively shaking her hips at him. “If you need anything else, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Chrysalis!” Gunhilde scolded. “He just got married.”

“Just because he’s married, doesn’t mean he can’t enjoy his loyal servant’s gentle ministrations,” she objected, to Luna’s great displeasure.

“Husband,” Luna said, glaring at Chrysalis. “Tis time we presided over the feast. Let your servants see to your raiment.”

Looking down at his ruined clothes, the Slave King nodded. “Fetch me the green doublet, hanging in my wardrobe,” he said, removing his torn finery. Wrapping his cloak around him like a protective blanket, he followed his wife towards their waiting wedding feast.

High above on his perch, one waited as the others left the gardens below. Looking down at the altar, near where Luna had stood, he spied a few drops of drying blood with several of his black eyes. “Rimefrost, in your hurry to fight, it appears you failed to look before you striked,” he said, shaking his mandibles. “Since her wound has bled, I fear er long, many tears will be shed.”

*****

She stood above the bubbling liquid, roiling and frothing in the large iron cauldron. She’d placed all the ingredients the ceremony had called for inside, and now only the stolen heart of her beloved was left. Though the ingredients called for by Lord Ananse’s tapestry were costly, and had nearly bankrupted her, she felt the cost would be well worth it. Looking down into the iridescent waters of the cauldron, she wondered what his wedding had been like. And if he’d been happy with the feather he was marrying.

Though she was considered quite lovely, Luna was considered the most beautiful of all the goddesses on the pantheon. She wondered how it might have been, gliding down the aisle towards him, wearing a dress of golden silk and fire rubies. It would’ve been grand, she thought. She would’ve said her vows, fully intent on ensuring he never wanted for love ever again. And once he’d said his, she’d have held him tightly, and would never willingly let go of him ever again.

She imagined the feasting and drinking, and the joyous and airy music that would have played, celebrating their union. Though he’d have protested he didn’t know how to dance, she would’ve teased and cajoled him into escorting her onto floor, and enjoyed dancing the night away together. Their daughters would’ve watched them dancing together, before announcing that he’d finally accept them as his children.

Her cheeks blushed crimson, as she thought of their wedding night. She imagined him holding her in his arms, and finally accepting her love for him. He’d have accepted her gift, gladly drinking the potion containing the other half of her heart, and allowed it to beat for the both of them. Now finally whole, she’d willingly share him with her hurting friend, and smiled as she thought of Lady Zephyr’s happiness. Looking towards the empty nest where she’d raised their three daughters, she looked forward to the many children they’d have together over the centuries. And when it came time to go their separate ways, she’d always treasure the memories she held of their many wonderful years together.

But looking back at his heart, she lamented that she was alone. He was roosting in somefeather else’s nest, and the bright and cheery future she wished to give him, was beyond her now. Her daughters would never have the father they so desperately needed. Aria, would continue resenting him, for so cruelly rejecting her as a child. Melody, would continue hiding the hurt she carried, behind the smile she always wore like a mask. The dreams of an unbroken family, forever beyond her grasp. And most tragic of all, Harmony would continue repeating the lie, that she’d convinced herself to believe.

No! She decided, they would not be denied their father any longer. Standing up, she picked up his heart, and prepared to drop it into the depths of the boiling cauldron.

*****

She was finally married again, she thought, smiling in satisfaction. No longer would she have to be alone, while watching over her long and lonely nights. As she removed her wedding dress and train, she frowned when she discovered she’d somehow cut herself. Fortunately, it had only been a tiny scratch, and with a little magic, healed almost immediately. She could still hear the revelry of the others coming up from the balcony, as she undressed. She looked around the rather plain room she would share with her husband, and frowned at its squalid condition. Like the rest of the palace, it had suffered from centuries of neglect. She decided that refurbishing the palace would be something she’d need to do. Looking up at the pink sky overhead, she could feel the sun making its way towards the horizon. Soon she’d need to raise the moon, and if she wanted to give her husband his gift in pony, she’d need to hurry.

As she made her final preparations for their first night together, she thought about the day’s events. Though she’d fantasized somewhat about this day, her wedding was nothing like she’d expected it to be. Beyond the nearly disastrous ceremony, she felt somewhat disappointed by the food. Though she understood that meat was regularly consumed in the south, she felt somewhat slighted that it was being openly served at her wedding. If they had to eat it, at least they could do, is eat it out of her sight. She was their princess now, and she rightfully deserved for them to show her a little deference, especially on her own wedding day.

She wished her husband was willing to be a little more affectionate with her. She’d tried doing with him, what other couples did on their wedding day, but found him totally unwilling to humor her. She tried her best to make him smile, with her affectionate touches and flirting, but found him unresponsive to all her techniques. Likewise, when she enticed him to sample the succulent fruits she’d been enjoying, he looked at her as if she’d gone mad. Sullenly, she’d abandoned any further attempts at feeding him, and tried enjoying her own meal, but found she was unable. The food she’d once found exquisite, had lost any appeal it once held.

Then during the cake cutting ceremony, it was only after much pressure, that he even bothered nibbling on the cake she’d offered him. And when the musicians began playing a waltz for them to dance to, he’d been adamant in his refusal to dance with her. It had taken the combined pleas of the rest of the pantheon, in order to prod him out onto the floor. Though she didn’t understand why he didn’t wish to dance, he seemed to do it well enough. And to top it all off, he wouldn’t even drink with her! The only thing that passed his lips, beyond the several kisses she’d stolen from him over the course of the evening, had been that draught he always drank.

She was feeling slightly miffed, but she remembered her sister’s words, and decided to be patient with him. This was his first legitimate marriage after all, perhaps he was just nervous about how he might perform during their wedding night. Though she’d been somewhat concerned by his aloofness towards her, she remembered everything they’d shared together. Her raising the moon for him, him sharing his renewal with her, the kiss they shared in the fountain, the aid he offered her in the mines as she fought Lady Minoa, and fighting for her hoof against Lord Cerynitis. Even the events of their distant shared past, spoke volumes to her heart.

Her ears tilted when she heard the door open. This was it, her husband had come to her, and now it was her duty as his wife, to offer herself to him. Laying down on the bed suggestively, she waited for him to enter. However, when he entered the room, she was greatly disappointed. He’d brought that fearsome and terrible beast, Nightmare with him!

“Husband, I…” she said, trying to hide her displeasure towards Nightmare.

“Wife, I’ve brought Nightmare to you,” he said, gesturing to her. “She’ll be your servant whenever you stay here in the palace.”

When they heard him say servant, both Luna and Nightmare’s eyes bugged out. Luna didn’t know what to say, she thought the creature was a terror and a menace. No sane pony would want anything to do with her. For her part, Nightmare felt enraged that she was being forced to serve the pony whore, who was taking her master away from her.

Seemingly oblivious to their discomfort, the Slave King looked down at Nightmare. “I’m afraid you’re going to have find someplace else to sleep tonight,” he said, as she looked worriedly at her new mistress.

Whining in protest, Nightmare looked up at him pleadingly. Don’t send me away, she begged. That pony’s not good enough for you, she’s just using you!

“Nightmare…” he said, warning her to stop insulting his wife. Running his hand reassuringly through her fur, he patted her sides. “It’ll be okay, girl. She has her own domain to run after all. When she goes back to Londwhinium, you can have your usual spot back at the foot of my bed.”

Growling at her new mistress once more, she headed towards the open door to leave them. Before exiting the room, she leveled a malevolent glare at his new wife. I was here first, the Slave King is mine, she said through her angry scowl. He belongs to me. If you think you can steal him away, you have another thing coming!

Luna, returned Nightmare’s scowl with one of her own. Showing her newest servant, that she didn’t fear her in the least. When she saw that the goddess refused to be intimidated, Nightmare released a low growl, before leaving the room.

Pleased they were finally alone together, Luna gazed up at him lovingly. “We have waited and longed for thee, husband,” she said, flicking her tail once, and motioning for him to join her on their bed.

Ignoring her entreaties for him to join her, the Slave King walked out onto the balcony. He said nothing to her, as he gazed at the broken city beneath him. Finding his silence unnerving, Luna got up off the bed, and walked towards him. Sensing her beside him, he gave her a cursory glance, before returning his attention back to his long dead city.

“Does something vex thee, beloved?” she asked, wishing to know the reasons for his silence.

“No,” he said, refusing to elaborate any further.

Resting her head against him, she looked at him and smiled. “We wish to give thee thy wedding gift now,” she said, nuzzling against him affectionately.

Looking at his wife questioningly, he glanced around the room and saw nothing he didn’t already recognize. “What is it, wife?” he asked, feeling curious.

“Look up,” was all she said in response, as she prepared to perform her nightly duty. Raising up into the air, her eyes filled with her divinity, as she raised the full moon above them. Slowly the stars appeared, sparkling like jewels in the night sky.

“As beautiful as always, wife,” he said, wondering what she’d meant to show him.

Blushing at his compliment, she directed his attention towards the moon. One by one, four new stars appeared around her moon, surrounding it like a wreath or crown. “Dost thou approve, husband?” she asked, hoping that he liked her gift. “We made a constellation for thee. Tis thy crown, around our moon, so all might know of our love for thee.”

“It’s a wonderful gift, wife,” he said, wondering what she’d say about the gift he planned to give her. “I’m afraid my gift to you, is nowhere near as worthy.”

“That it’s from thee, is all we desire,” she said, offering him a smile.

Nodding to her, he undressed, as he prepared to give his gift to her. Removing his cloak, the brands that once marked him as the property of the gem biters was clearly visible. Next, he untied the strings securing his doublet, and placed it aside. What she saw then, made her burn with anger. Though she‘d seen him bare chested before, this was the first time she’d had a chance to study his scarred flesh up close. She lost count, as she tried numbering the many scars and lacerations that ran long his body. Had he not already punished those responsible long ago, she would’ve demanded justice for the cruel treatment he’d once received at the hooves of his former masters. He reached for his crown to remove it, before stopping him with her magic.

“Husband, let us remove thy crown for thee,” she said, wishing to be the one that removed the last piece that hid him from her.

“If that’s your desire, wife, you may,” he said, lowering his hands, while waiting for her to remove his crown.

Picking up the heavy iron crown with her magic, she struggled moving it, as the arcanum found inside, fought against her magic’s hold. When she removed the crown from his head, revealing the man beneath the cold mask, she looked into his burning eyes and smiled. Though he’d once been badly burned, and his face carried many scars, to her, he was beautiful. She saw reflected in his eyes, the hollow place where his heart once was, and yearned to fill it. Looking into his soul, she could see that like her, he too was intimately acquainted with the same loneliness she felt each night.

Kissing his broken nose, she touched her head to his. “Husband, thou shall never be alone again,” she said, vowing that she would be the one to heal him.

Hearing his wife’s words, and feeling the warmth and affection they held, he wanted to believe her, but he couldn’t. His heart only had room for one, and the one he loved, wasn’t his wife.

“Wife, allow me to give you your gift now,” he said, stepping away from her.

With baited breath, she watched as his eyes exploded with power. Standing before her, she saw his brands burning with the same magic his eyes possessed. Looking out from the balcony, she saw lights flashing inside parts of the palace. Returning to look at her husband, she saw the brands on his shoulders warping and changing. The iconic mark of the jaws biting down on a gem, slowly twisted and shifted into a new design. When she saw what his brands had changed to, she opened her mouth in surprise. On each of his shoulders, she recognized the distinctive crescent shape of her own cutie mark, standing in their place.

“Words cans’t express our joy at thy gift,” she said, embracing and wetting his neck with her tears. “None other, have ever shown us such love or devotion as thee, dear husband.”

He was taken aback by her tears. He hadn’t expected that changing his brands to her cutie mark, would’ve elicited such a response, or touched her so greatly. His original intent in taking her cutie mark as his new brand, had been in protest against Celestia for enslaving him through marriage. But apparently she’d misinterpreted the gesture, as a sign of his devotion towards her.

Lightly kissing his cheek, she returned to their bed, and invited him to join her. “Come to us, love,” she implored, as her turquoise eyes sparkled with her desire for him. “Let us show thee, darling, how much we loved thy gift.”

Turning away from her, he looked down at his metal hand, and shook his head. “No,” he said, denying her entreaty.

“What is the matter, dearest?” she asked him, with a voice full of concern and worry for his wellbeing.

“When you gave me your reason for wanting to marry me, you lied,” he said, refusing to face her.

“But we love thee, husband. We truly do!” she implored, protesting her innocence against his accusing hurtful words.

“How can you possibly claim to love, that which you don’t know?” he asked, pointing a finger towards her accusingly. “What you claim to love, is a whisper of me. Nothing more than the shadowy reflection from a darkened mirror, distorted by the dreams and fantasies you hold of me, and suppose that I am.”

When she heard his harsh words, her lip trembled, and eyes welled up as they threatened to release their tears. “We thought thou felt the same as we…” she weakly said, feeling her heart break from his harsh words.

”Wife, how could I possibly love, someone I don’t know?” he said, not caring whether or not he brought her to further tears.

“Then know us!” she cried out, embracing the shadows. “Know us, husband, so thou might love us.”

Before he could respond, the shadows surrounding her leapt out and consumed him with their darkness.

*****

It was time now, all her preparations were complete. All she needed to do was drop his heart inside the bubbling cauldron, and her heart’s desire would come to pass.

“I love you…” she whispered to the heart she held aloft, before dropping it inside the roiling liquid.

The moment the stolen heart entered the shining water, it exploded with light, nearly blinding her. Remembering what needed to be done next, she released a full portion of her divinity into the cauldron, infusing the heart and the boiling liquid with the Song of Creation. She looked on in fascination and wonder, as the heart beat and throbbed inside the frothing brew. Slowly, it began growing and changing form. Her eyes lit up with hope, when she saw what was happening inside.

Within minutes, a head broke free from the liquid, gasping for air. Followed by its owner’s shoulders and arms. The figure inside collapsed against the side of the cauldron, seemingly unaffected by its heat. Panting, the figure looked up at her in confusion, before fainting. “Little Bleu,” they sighed, before losing consciousness.

Overjoyed with the results of Lord Ananse’s ritual, she lifted the torpid figure free from the cauldron, cradling his naked form in her wings. “I love you so much, my darling,” she sighed, nestling her head against his. “You’ve come back to me, my love. You’ve come back to me!”

Looking down at his prone form, she kissed his forehead, holding him tightly against her. Brushing a wing across his brow to move his dark locks away from his face, she hummed a gentle lullaby, as she covered him protectively with her wing. She felt him stirring against her, as he rested against her. “Beloved, rest well. You’re safe now,” she cooed. “You’re safe now.”

Carrying him in her wings, she gently placed him in her nest, and covered him with silken sheets. Looking at the mirror above her bed, she saw him resting peacefully. If she didn’t know better, she would’ve thought it was her love sleeping there. True, there were some differences between them. His eyes for one. They were a dark brown, much like Lady Zephyr’s son's, and not the vivid green she was accustomed to. Another difference she found curious, was he still had both of his arms. But the rest of him was all there, his brands, the familiar scars, and even his distinctive looking broken nose and burned face.

Though she loved him, scars and all, she always wished she could've healed his wounds, restoring his stolen beauty to him. But his magically infused body, had always rejected her many attempts at healing him. But this time, things would be different. She would bind his broken body, and he would finally be whole. Noting his numerous open and weeping wounds, she immediately got to work, and tended to him. All the while, singing softly to him, the same lullaby their children once loved to hear sung by mother.

*****

He felt the oppressive darkness of this familiar place pressing down on him from every direction. Though he was familiar with Domain of Shadow, he spent as little time possible here. The shadows reminded him too greatly of the years he spent lucidly trapped between the waking world, and the madness that once consumed him. As the Lord of Earth, his domain was mostly aligned with the shadows. And even though he could traverse the breadth of this place with impunity, he still found this domain somewhat abhorrent.

He could feel her all around him. Much like the shadows of this tenebrous realm, hers was a dark and terrible beauty, which could easily consume you, if you allowed it to. He felt the darkness caressing him tenderly, whispering into his ear to join with her. When he didn’t respond to its entreaties, he sharply drew in his breath when he felt his shadow magic being drawn from him by force. He found the sensation quite pleasurable, and it took all his will power to reclaim his magic from her skillful ministrations.

“Wife, show yourself!” he shouted into the darkness, as his power begged for release.

He grimaced when he felt her tweak his divinity one last time, before reforming from the darkness before him. Unlike in the mortal realm, the form she assumed here was as black as night. Her mane and tail shimmering like the stars, enveloped him, and drew him close to her. Only her large turquoise eyes, staring intensely into his soul with equal parts anger and desire, remained the same.

“Husband, why dost thou refuse our advances?” she demanded, drawing him even closer. “Didst thou no less than six hours previous, vow to perform thy husbandly duty when we beseeched thee? Art we so vile in thy sight, that thou hast no desire to join with us?”

Encompassed by her divinity, he found his resolve crumbling. The excess magic the Lunar Council had spent hours draining from him, had built up once more, and his wife’s beauty and sensuality were pushing him ever closer to her.

“I won’t be betrayed again!” he roared, unleashing his magic, and breaking free from her hold. Panting heavily with exertion, as his body’s wants and desires foisted themselves upon him, he looked at her warily.

Looking at him with concern, she became the shadow once again, before reforming at his side. “We shan’t betray thee, not ever!” she declared, laying at his side submissively. Holding his face inches from hers, she brushed her lips lightly against his. “Join with us, husband, and we shalt stand with thee until the very end. Even against our own sister, if need be.”

Her vow of fealty, resonated within his breast. He no longer had the strength to say no, or deny the desires they held for each other. Grabbing her, he kissed her with a passion he’d not known since he’d last joined with either Lady Zephyr or Lady Suzaku. He could see the delight and excitement in her eyes, as he lost himself in their shared fervency. Holding her close, he felt her divinity enveloping him once more. Releasing his own to meet with hers, he prepared to sing the Song of Creation with her. Feeling her magic, divinity, and flesh meeting his, he sighed with unrestrained pleasure. He’d nearly forgotten this wondrous feeling. His one regret, was that he couldn’t share it with them again, not until after his divorce.

“Husband, thou art a masterful lover,” Luna said, enjoying the feeling of his hands along her body, and eagerly anticipating the consummation of their marriage. “The tutoring thou received from thy former consorts, thou learnt it well.”

“I was always a quick study,” he replied, with a wry grin.

“Husband, join with us now!” she said, with a voice that dripped urgency and need. “We shall show thee things, they never could.”

He looked at his wife, who returned his gaze with adoration, her eyes begging him to join with her, so they could finally be one. Opening himself to her power, he drew her offered divinity into himself, before gasping as her magic overwhelmed him. Instead of pleasure she promised, he felt naught but the cold hand of death ripping through him. Clutching at his chest in pain, he stumbled away from her, trying to escape, before she could finish murdering him.

The scar that laid where his heart once was, throbbed excruciatingly, as if the blood in his veins had been replaced with poison. He felt his blood boiling, from a dragon’s flame, his soul freezing, from feasting windigos, his body being crushed, by the weight of all the seas, and his bones ground down into powder, by the great mountains pressing down on him.

“Husband, art thou wounded?” she asked with concern, when she noticed him backing away from her.

“Stay back, assassin!” he hissed, holding his solid arcanum fist at the ready.

Luna looked on in horror, as her husband stumbled away from her in pain and fear. Where his eyes once reflected tenderness for her, now they only offered her anger and the pain of betrayal.

“What has happened to thee?” she asked, unable to fathom the reasons for his anger.

“I… I should’ve known…” he muttered, coughed up black blood, as he limped away from her.

“Let us help thee, husband,” she said, trying her best to comfort him.

“Stay back, treacherous woman,” he warned, drawing back his metal arm. “If you come any closer, I will smite you.”

“Please, husband! Tell us what we did to earn thy scorn,” she begged, as he escaped back to the waking world. But the shadows remained silent, leaving her to weep alone in the darkness.

Author's Note

Thank you gentlereader for reading chapter 17 of The Book of Water: The Marriage of the Slave King, as always comments are appreciated. I had trouble trying to write this chapter without crossing into adult territory. Even now, I think I came close with several lines, hopefully no one was offended. If so I beg for your forgiveness. And to those hoping that things would've gotten saucier, maybe I could write the director's cut for you later.

In this chapter we finally see the Slave King get married to his one true love, Princess Luna (or least that's what it said on the invite). Lord Cerynitis tried fighting against the Slave King, and lost his pride and any claim he had over the one he cared for. I wonder if he'll let bygones be bygones, or if he'll try something in the future. Lady Suzaku finally completed Lord Ananse's ritual, and managed to create someone from the Slave King's heart. I wonder who this player might be, and what the consequences of her actions might end up having for her. Might there be something to Luna's seemingly innocuous wound and Lord Ananse's cryptic warning? Only time will tell. And poor Luna, jilted on her wedding night, while her husband limps away in pain. It looks like she just can't catch a break. Will the Slave King perform his husbandly responsibilities, or with their marriage remain a sham?

Find out the answers to these questions and more, in the next exciting chapter of The Book of Water: Marriage of the Slave King, coming to computer near you!

Once again gentlereader, thank you for reading and all your kind words and support. You make writing worthwhile. Until next time!

P.S. My apologies gentlereader for failing to post this chapter yesterday, I fell asleep editing it, and when I woke up it was already past time. So I decided to wait to post it.

Chapter 18: Something Old, Something New, The Blushing Bride, and Her Reluctant Groom: Part IV: The Master, Gambler, Sleeper, Groom, and Thief

The Book of Water: The Marriage of the Slave King

A Story by TalonMach5

Chapter 18: Something Old, Something New, The Blushing Bride, and Her Reluctant Groom: Part IV: The Master, Gambler, Sleeper, Groom, and Thief

“Bow down before the master, you fool!” he hissed to his doppelganger companion.

Smirking in response, he snorted at his former employer’s trembling. Though his new boss’s visage was quite terrifying to behold, he’d never cowered before any of his previous employers, and didn’t intend to start now.

“Second, you can bow and scrape if you want,” he derisively said, looking down as the doomhound groveled. “But, Bazzt Zzzt, fears neither mortal nor deity alike.”

“Then it’s your grave,” Second snapped, angry that this fool had no regard for his own safety, and was endangering his as well.

For his part, Second’s terrifying master looked down at his two bickering puppets, and smiled. Though, had the changeling not been nearly so entertaining, he might have destroyed him for his impertinence. He felt his newest pawn, had something to offer him. Though Second so far, had proven himself useful in his limited capacity, the Slave King’s suspicious nature, prevented the doomhound from acting with impunity. The changeling’s innate abilities and anonymity, would make him a useful tool to achieving his ultimate goal.

He allowed them to continue their fight, as he relished the enmity they held for one another. Even with all the mistrust, animosity, and anger amongst the pantheon, and though half their number was at the other’s throats; Equestria possessed far too much harmony for his liking, leaving him weak and somewhat powerless to act. Even today’s recent strife, had only offered him a drop of the sustenance he required to escape his prison.

Looking down at the two mortals, he grew weary of their petty argument. He decided to see whether his newest pawn was worth keeping, or if he should devour him instead. “Silence, Second, or I shall discipline you,” he commanded, relishing the fear his threat generated from the trembling doomhound. “Bazzt Zzzt, tell me why I shouldn’t devour you for your lack of respect.”

Though all his instincts screamed at him to escape, the changeling looked up at his employer and offered him a smug grin. “Then maybe, the Slave King discovers just exactly what Second’s been up to,” he said, glad he’d prepared a fallback if things ever turned sketchy. “Maybe he’ll find out about your little operation. Maybe he’ll discover who’s been messing with him and the rest of the pantheon…”

“Maybe I’ll devour you,” their master said, angry that his pawn thought to blackmail him.

“Then you and your plan get discovered,” Bazzt Zzzt confidently replied, while hiding the terror he felt, behind his expressionless face. “Somehow I get the feeling that the Slave King is the sort of fellow who won’t forget about you, once he’s rooted out the vipers in his den.”

“I’ll overlook your temerity, this time,” he warned, pointing a claw at the changeling. “But should you forget yourself in the future, I shall carry you into the Pit, and teach you proper decorum.”

“I understand, Master,” Bazzt Zzzt said, with a slight bow, before stepping away from the summoning circle.

Pleased that his pawn knew his place, he laid out the terms of his puppet’s employment. “Bazzt Zzzt, serve me well, and you will be well rewarded,” he said, offering him a cruel smile. “But should you fail me, your torment will be unending.”

The changeling felt as if he had ice water in his veins. Shuddering once, he nodded in agreement, and accepted this Faustian bargain, he knew the price of failure, and fully intended to never allow that to happen to him. Thankful that he’d been spared a grisly fate, he stepped away from his new employer.

“Second,” their master rumbled, resting his burning eyes on the doomhound. He chuckled when he saw him with his muzzle kissing the ground. Seeing such fear, tasted divine, and whet his appetite for more. “You have done well. Ensuring Celestia’s plan for the Slave King was a success, has pleased me. But now, I have another task for you.”

“What is your command, Master?” Second asked, with fear and reverence.

“The Slave King possesses an artifact of great power,” he said, placing his malevolent claws together.

“The Vendetta devours any who touches it, Master!” Second said, afraid of being asked to do the impossible.

“The Vendetta’s power, pales in comparison,” his master said, annoyed with Second’s cowardice.

“What could possibly be more powerful than The Vendetta?” Second wondered, unable to fathom anything stronger than a weapon capable of slaying a god.

“The artifact is called the Elements of Harmony,” he said, conjuring up an image of six dark and beautifully cut gems.

“They seem unremarkable,” Second said, wondering what made them so powerful.

“In the beginning, the gods used them to make all creation,” he explained, waving away their image. “Realizing their great power, I fought with Celestia for their possession. In the ensuing battle, their power was sealed away, and they were seemingly destroyed, or at least we thought they’d been. Scourge, bring the elements to me, so I might ensure their destruction. You’ll find them inside the Slave King’s treasury.”

“Why not use them, to destroy Celestia and the others?” Second asked, wondering why they should steal such power, only to destroy it.

“Fool!” the master roared, annoyed with Second’s stupidity. “Should any other gain possession of the elements, I might never escape my prison.”

Second was about to inquire further, but a dark look from his master, silenced him. “As you wish, Master,” he said, bowing low to the ground.

“Now, my servants, go and perform my will,” he said, as his image faded away.

Neither of them said a word to the other. Only the lingering echo of his terrible voice, saying perform my will, could be heard.

“Well good luck with that, Second,” Bazzt Zzzt said, preparing to leave.

“And where do you think you’re going, grub?” he demanded, fully recovered from his encounter with their master.

“I no longer work for you, Second,” the changeling said with a smirk. “And after all, the boss did give the task to you to complete.”

“You will assist me, Bazzt Zzzt, in retrieving the Elements of Harmony,” he commanded, giving the changeling an evil look.

“Maybe the boss will give me your position once you’ve failed him,” he said with a dark chuckle.

“You, insect!” he roared, swiping his paw angrily at him, and furious that the bug thought to coerce him. “I’ll kill you for this!”

“Do it, Second, and the boss will kill you once his plot has been exposed,” he threatened, making sure the doomhound knew he wasn’t bluffing over his threat to expose him.

Knowing that Bazzt Zzzt had him, Second growled in frustration. “So what will it take, to gain your cooperation?” he asked, regretting that he hadn’t killed the bothersome changeling when he still had the chance, regardless of the oath he’d sworn.

The changeling laughed at Second’s consternation. He knew exactly what he wanted. “One favor, of my choosing,” he said, holding out his paw.

“Fine,” Second curtly replied, already plotting Bazzt Zzzt’s demise. Once he’d retrieved the Elements of Harmony, he’d ensure that his master’s newest servant came down with a sudden case of death, via a knife in the carapace.

“So where should I go, to retrieve these Elements of Harmony?” he asked, pleased with how he managed to play his former employer.

“The Slave King’s treasury, according to our master,” Second said. “But be warned, after Scourge’s theft, security has probably been increased.”

Offering him a grin, Bazzt Zzzt made his way to leave. “I don’t expect any trouble retrieving the master’s baubles,” he said, disappearing into the shadows.

“You’d better not, grub, if you know what’s good for you,” Second growled. “You’d better not.”

*****

She sighed with longing. Here she was all dolled up, but with no one to flirt with. As far as she was concerned, this wedding was a bust. When she first saw the dress Harmony had somehow convinced the pony seamstress Ringing Bells to make for her, she thought she’d have to beat her suitors off with a stick, as she danced the night away with some handsome feather. However, as far as suitable dates went, she’d found the pickings slim.

A majority of the pantheon felt none too kindly towards the Domain of Earth, a feeling which most of their entourages held in common with their various lords and ladies. While many of the gods like Lord Triton, had an entourage consisting of entirely mares. The few males she’d approached had rebuffed her advances, due to her mixed heritage and known service to the Slave King.

It was nearly enough to make her want to cry at the injustice of it all. Here she was in the prime of her life, and nofeather would look twice at her. Well not everyfeather that is, but the feminine attentions she’d attracted weren’t exactly what she was after. And she wasn’t nearly drunk enough to take up the offers she’d received seriously, maybe in a few more jugs of wine she’d reconsider. But until then, she’d have to take solace in her lute and half-filled goblet.

Playing a cheerful tune, she looked at the dispersing guests enjoying the remnants of the wedding feast. Thinking of Dawson, she remembered the victory feast they shared together, and smiled at the pleasant memory. She wondered how he was, if they’d managed to see the freed slaves across the borders without issue, and most importantly, if he missed her at all.

She looked over at Lord Triton’s table, and saw Dame Squall drinking by herself in silence. It seemed to her, she was either avoiding her fellow chevaleresse, or they were avoiding her. Draining her cup, she wiped her beak with her sleeve, slung her lute across her shoulder, and decided to pay the seapony a little visit. Walking across the room towards her, she picked up a large half empty jug of wine, and plopped it down with a large thunk, in front of her new found drinking companion.

Dame Squall offered her a puzzled expression, and raised her brow quizzically, when she saw the size of the wine jug. “You know that’s wine, not water, don’t you?” she said, taking a sip from her cup.

“I know, isn’t it great?” Melody replied, filling her cup to the brim, while looking at the wine thirstily.

Remembering her drunken escapades the night before, Dame Squall quickly covered her cup with her fin, when she moved to fill her cup as well. “I’ve decided to practice temperance this evening,” she explained, when Melody looked at her, as if she’d lost her mind for refusing more spirits in her cup.

“Oh lighten up, Dame Squall!” she teased, as she heavily imbibed the wine. “If you’re not the one getting married, weddings are only good for two things, either finding yourself a little romance, or getting happily drunk on somefeather else’s booze.”

“Oh, I’ve had quite enough excessive drinking to last me for a while,” Dame Squall said, remembering how she’d almost taken advantage of him.

Looking into her cup, Melody inhaled the sweet smelling wine, as she looked forward to enjoying its intoxicating bouquet, as it made her forget her worries. Removing her lute from her shoulder, she softly played a tune as she lamented her singlehood status. Deciding she needed to end her friend’s sobriety, she decided to relay Dawson’s message. “He said he was sorry,” she said, as she played a few chords.

Frowning slightly, she looked at Melody. “Who said they were sorry?” she asked, wondering who it could be. “And what were they sorry for?”

“Oh a certain griffin-half,” she idly said, taking a quick drink between chords. “He said he was sorry, for not giving you a proper farewell before leaving.”

When she heard her mention him, her heart started racing. He was thinking of her as well? The thought of him pining for her, brought a smile to her lips. But then she realized how far the Golden Eyrie was from the coast, and felt a bit hollow inside. Drinking heavily from her cup, she held it out for her to fill. Pleased she finally had someone to drink with, Melody put down her lute, and filled both their goblets to the brim.

“Was he well?” Dame Squall asked, hoping for some news to sate her curiosity.

Melody looked sideways at her, and smiled. Seeing Dame Squall longing for her brother, sent a small thrill down her spine. It was so romantic! Star crossed lovers, separated by circumstance and distance. Would they ever be reunited, only fate could decide?

“Yes he was, but it was a good thing I caught up to him when I did,” she said, starting a new song.

“Why, what happened?” she asked with concern. “Did they encounter one of those desert dwelling monsters, I’ve heard rumors of?”

“No, much worse,” Melody darkly said, remembering the smuggler.

“Then what?” Dame Squall asked, wondering what could be possibly more dangerous than a monster.

“Dawson confronted a pony slaver transporting his property to market, and tried freeing his slaves,” she said, wishing that such things weren’t so commonplace.

When she heard her, Dame Squall’s breast filled with pride. Dawson had seen wrongdoing and tried stopping it. Her cheeks flushed, as she imagined how he must looked standing up to the slaver. “So was he victorious?” she excitedly asked. “Did he make the fiend regret his sins, before dispensing Lord Triton’s justice on the scoundrel?”

“No, I stopped him before he could do anything,” she replied, waiting to gauge the chevaleresse’s reaction.

“Why did you do that?” she demanded, unable to comprehend allowing anypony to get away with such wickedness.

“Because it was the right thing to do,” Melody said. “The pony was within his rights to transport the slaves in his possession to be sold.”

“How can you defend such practices?” she asked, wondering why she would ever condone such evil.

“Don’t knights of the Lawgiver, believe in upholding the law?” she countered, wishing to defend the honor of the Domain of Earth.

“Well…” Dame Squall said, not sure how to answer. Of course upholding the law was important, but so was being right and true.

Seeing her inability to answer the question, made Melody smile. Though she held no love for slavery, she disliked how often the other domains looked down on the Earth for the practice, as if they were somehow superior. Though she liked Dame Squall, she wouldn’t let her get away with the slight.

“So where’s your answer, Dame Squall?” she teased, playing the familiar refrain of ‘Ole Triton, Faces Doom’, a jaunty tune the ‘Order of Shadow’ used to mock the ‘The Most Illustrious Order of Triton the Lawgiver’ when they faced each other on the field of battle.

“I don’t have an answer, but it’s still wrong,” she said, unhappy she couldn’t defend her position. Spying the Slave King’s cupbearer and her diamond dog companion, she had an idea. “How about we ask Gunhilde what she thinks?”

“Hmm,” Melody mused, considering her proposal. While she’d just been enslaved, she’d also been placed in a position of great power and influence. Many would consider such a tradeoff more than fair, and even have been willing to sell their souls for such an opportunity. “Alright, I agree.”

“What are the stakes?” Dame Squall said, feeling her pride as a chevaleresse burn within her. Though it would only be a symbolic victory over the Earth, a victory was still a victory. And after what had happened at Bone’s Landing, her order would take the victory, no matter how small.

“If you win, you can have my boon token,” she said, removing a golden coin from her purse, which bore the Slave King’s likeness, and placing it down on the table. “It’s good for any one favor from the Slave King.”

Dame Squall’s eyes went wide, when she saw what Melody had bet. With a coin like that, she could have any favor granted she wanted, and the Slave King would have no choice but to grant it. She imagined the look on her liege lord’s muzzle, once she’d secured enough arcanum weapons and armor to outfit his knights twice over. The one great advantage the Earth had over the Water would finally be wiped away! She could even demand the Slave King return Bone’s Landing to her people. But somehow, she thought the Lawgiver would prefer regaining the city militarily.

“What do you get if I lose?” she asked, worried she had nothing as valuable to wager.

“A date with Sir Hurricane, the Gallant,” she said, grabbing Dame Squall’s token of the Lawgiver, and placing it beside the boon. “We’ll just consider this the deposit.”

“But how do you expect me to arrange that?” she said, unsure how she could convince him to agree to be seen with somepony like Melody. The handsome knight, was highly sought after by every mare in Marelantis and beyond. The resulting scandal of the order’s favored son, courting a mudslinger and a feathered folk beside, would be explosive to say the least.

Now that the stakes were so high, she began feeling nervous. If she lost her token, she’d be unable to return home, until she’d completed a great quest, and restored her honor. But on the other fin, a chance to outfit the entire order with arcanum was too tempting to pass up.

Seeing Dame Squall considering the wager, Melody smiled. Soon her date with the dashing Sir Hurricane would be hers. And then the next time a seapony looked down on her, she’d just smile, knowing that a mudslinger had bedded one of their greatest heroes.

“Well if you want to concede, I’ll understand,” Melody said, offering her a sly grin.

Looking at the boon, and then her token, she nodded her consent. This opportunity was too tempting to pass up. “All right, if Gunhilde sides with you, I’ll get you a date with Sir Hurricane,” she said, sure the reindeer would side with her.

“Now you’re talking,” Melody said, standing up and rubbing her hands together in anticipation.

Seeing the determined look in Melody’s ruby eyes, she wondered what exactly she’d just gotten herself into.

*****

“Do you think he’ll mind, if I quietly slip in and sample their love tonight?” she asked, raising her eyebrows suggestively as she smirked at her companion.

“It’s safe to say, Chrysalis, that the Slave King will more than mind the interruption,” she said, shaking her head in disbelief at what she’s heard from her charge.

“Oh come on, Gunhilde. They won’t even miss it,” she whined, lusting after all that delicious love that would otherwise go to waste. “I’ll make sure I’m discrete.”

Gunhilde’s eyes flashed green, as her brand filled with power, making Chrysalis wince in pain. “That’s the last I expect to hear about it,” she sternly told her.

“I’m sorry, Gunhilde, I…” she said, before taking a few steps cautiously towards an unused passage, as her ears tilted and nostrils flared. She could sense another changeling somewhere nearby! Though she didn’t know who it was, she was certain it would be up to no good. “There’s a changeling in the palace.”

“Yeah, I know,” Gunhilde said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’m looking right at her.”

Chrysalis laid her ears back, and narrowed her eyes in annoyance when she was dismissed. “No, I mean another changeling,” she said, nervously walking in the direction she’s felt its presence coming from.

“Chrysalis,” Gunhilde said, unhappy they were leaving the safety of the dining hall behind them. “The wedding feast is still going on. The Slave King asked us to tend to anydeer who needed assistance.”

“Then all the more reason why we should be after them,” she said, trying to remind her of their duty to the Slave King. “A changeling inside the palace can only mean trouble.”

Looking down the unused corridor, Gunhilde felt a chill run down her spine. Many places in the palace still felt uncomfortable to her. At first she thought it was because of how creepy everything looked in the poor lighting, but later found out it was due to the angry dead that inundated the old city. She’d been told anytime she felt uneasy, the culprit was most likely a nearby wandering spirit. According to what she’d been told, most of the spirits were harmless, but it wasn’t unheard of for some of more dangerous specters to manage bypassing the wards on occasion.

“I’m not sure I want to go that way,” she said, shivering involuntarily. “Not when there’s a ghast still on the loose.”

“It’s been over a day, since anyone’s last saw it,” Chrysalis said, continuing down the dark corridor. “If it was still around, it would’ve already tried feeding again.”

Gunhilde shivered once more, she could feel the dread of the darkness creeping up on her, and felt her instincts crying out to escape this place. Chrysalis looked back at her keeper and smirked. Though she felt the same creeping fear, she knew the potency of the Slave King’s power. She decided that if anything should fear, it should be the creeping unseen spirits that were jealously stalking them.

Looking at the murals and friezes that adorned the walls, she wondered what mystery this place offered. Though she’d been here less than a week, the hidden passages and secrets she’d discovered, put her own people’s penchant for enigma to shame. There was a veritable maze of unused tunnels behind the walls, one just had to know where to look.

“Chrysalis, are you sure there’s a changeling this way?” Gunhilde asked, looking at where the corridor abruptly ended. “There’s nothing here but a dead end.”

Saying nothing, Chrysalis placed her nose near the damaged frieze adorning the wall, and inhaled. Placing her paws against the wall, she pressed as hard as she was able. “Ugh, there must be some sort of secret entrance here,” she grunted with exertion. “I can sense their pheromones coming from the other side.”

“How can you be sure there’s an entrance here,” Gunhilde said, tapping the wall experimentally with her hoof. “You’ve seen all the hidden passages we’ve been told about. The entrance they used, could be anywhere.”

“It’s actually right above you,” somedeer said from behind them.

Nearly startled out of her skin, Gunhilde turned to face their stalker. Tapping into the power the Slave King had granted her, she prepared to give whoever it was that was stalking them, a really lousy day.

“Show yourself!” she barked, pawing her hoof nervously.

“There’s no reason to be so hostile, Gunhilde,” Chrysalis said, placing a paw on her shoulder. “It’s just Melody, the Yellow, and one of Lord Triton’s seaponies.”

“We come in peace,” Melody said with a smirk, as she approached them with her hands held up. “Aren’t you two supposed to be looking after the Slave King’s guests?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be busy playing your lute, harper?” Chrysalis replied, to Gunhilde’s horror.

“Touché,” she said with a grin.

“Chrysalis!” Gunhilde shouted, giving her the evil eye. “She’s one of the Slave King’s most powerful servants.”

“No, you’re thinking of my sisters, Aria and Harmony,” she said, walking towards the cracked mural. Running her fingers along the gems that made the frieze, she pressed several of the gems, which resulted in a subdued clicking sound coming from behind the wall, as part of the wall slide open. “Aha, that should do it.”

“See, Gunhilde, I told you there was a hidden door here,” Chrysalis smugly said, poking her head inside.

Dame Squall floated over towards the open door. “Why in Equestria, would you want to go inside?” she asked, looking uneasily at the dark passageway.

“Chrysalis thinks there’s a changeling in the palace,” Gunhilde said, giving her companion a sideways glance.

“There is one, I know it,” she said, stepping into the darkness.

“Then what are we waiting for?” Melody said, following after her.

Dame Squall entered after her, leaving Gunhilde alone in the passageway. Worriedly, she pawed at the ground. She didn’t know which was worse, the dread she felt from the passageway, or the feeling of being watched from behind here in the empty corridor.

“You coming?” Chrysalis said, poking her head out of the shadows.

“Gah!” Gunhilde shouted, feeling her heart race from the unexpected sight. “Don’t do that! You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“Come on,” she said, giving her an impatient look. “We need to hurry, if we’re going to capture that changeling before they get away.”

Gunhilde huffed, as she followed after her changeling charge. “How do I keep getting into these situations?” she moaned, as the passageway closed behind her.

*****

He awoke in a warm and comfortable place, a far cry from the cold dry cave he’d been blindly wandering through, for god knows how long. Though it was dark in the room, low level illumination provided enough light, for him to make out the general shape of things. It was odd, he felt totally relaxed and well rested, but still felt completely sapped of his strength. Though he ached all over, it was a refreshing feeling, not at all like the constant pain he’d felt for ages. Taking a deep breath, he was surprised when his coughing fit didn’t follow. For years he’d had trouble breathing normally, and now that he could breathe easily, he found it a novel experience.

Examining himself, he discovered someone had taken the liberty of wrapping linen bandages around most of his body. He was confused, who’d gone to the trouble of helping him like this, and more importantly why? Kindness like this, was a luxury he’d very rarely experienced. He could only guess what his host would demand in repayment. If he was lucky, they’d consider him a rarity and place him in a menagerie somewhere. And if he was unlucky… He didn’t like dwelling on what they might possibly be planning to do with him. Even if he was going to be imprisoned once more, at least he’d been able to enjoy at least one good night’s sleep.

Laying in the darkness and enjoying the luxury of his soft bed, he felt something itch in the back of his mind. He wasn’t quite sure, but he was certain there was something or someone he’d forgotten. Though it scurried through the dense fog of his memories, he couldn’t quite remember what he was supposed to remember. After a time, he decided it could wait until later. He was warm and relatively safe, and that’s all that mattered for now. Here there were no biting whips to flinch away from, no chains to bind him, or the angry shouts of the master to fear. For the first time in nearly a decade, he was finally safe.

But he spoke to soon, sounds from outside the room, caught his attention. As someone opened the door, every muscle in his body tensed in fear. Cursing his weakness, he looked desperately for a weapon, or anything he could use to defend himself. But beyond the silken sheets covering him, and the soft pillow resting beneath his head, he only had his wits available to protect himself. Hoping to deceive his host, he closed his eyes, breathing steadily, as he pretended to sleep.

Through his closed lids, he sensed the room’s illumination grow slightly. He heard someone approach his bed, and fought every instinct he possessed to remain still. The heady scent of an exotic floral perfume filled his nostrils, as they moved closer. Whoever they were, he could sense them standing beside the bed, looking at him. He felt the soft touch of feathers against him, as they removed the silk sheet covering him. He felt a hand or wing brush against his forehead, before moving towards his dressings. He heard a feminine alto hum a gentle tune, as they proceeded to check each of his dressings. It took all his willpower to remain still, as they moved towards his waist. After what seemed an eternity, he felt them pull the silk sheets back over him, and sat beside him on the bed.

“Are you finally awake?” he heard her ask. When he didn’t respond, she brushed her feathers against his face once more. “Don’t worry, my love, you’re safe now.”

Wait, did she just call him, my love? Opening his eyes, he looked to discover his nurse’s identity. What he saw astonished him, a great red and orange bird like creature was looking down at him with large red eyes. Even though she was obviously not of his race, he found her beautiful to behold. Though he’d seen many strange creatures including dragons in this strange land, this was the first of her kind he’d ever encountered. Examining her, he noted because of her wings, she possessed a sort of angelic beauty. Suddenly it all made sense, the soft warm bed, the lack of his chronic pain, and being able to breathe freely once more. He’d died while trying to escape, and this was what passed for heaven in this strange land. No wonder he was having trouble remembering things.

The warmth her eyes conveyed to him, and the gentle smile on her beak, brought a smile to his lips. “Are you an angel?” he asked, curious why he’d need bandages in the afterlife. “Have I died, and is this heaven?”

When she heard his question, he saw a sadness reflected in her eyes, and immediately felt terrible for upsetting her. “No, I’m a phoenix. My name is Suzaku,” she said, with her melodic voice. “I’m not sure where this heaven of yours is, but you’re in my home, the Summer Palace, inside the Domain of Fire.”

He was unfamiliar with the geography of this world. All he knew of the Domain of Fire was that’s where the dragons lived, and from what he’d seen of them, he wanted as little to do with them as possible. But since this wasn’t heaven, that meant he wasn’t dead yet, which was a relief for him. He still had things he wanted to do, like walking on green grass, enjoying the shade beneath a heavy laden fruit tree, and swimming in the ocean until exhaustion had overcome him.

“So why did you help me?” he asked, sure he would be put to work as soon as he was able.

He saw what appeared to be the same pained look he’d seen earlier, almost as if she wanted to cry. Concerned he’d somehow offended her, he struggled to sit up. “I’m sorry, for asking,” he said, looking into her ruby eyes. “But I’ve never known anyone willing to offer me aid, without an ulterior motive.”

Placing her wing on his forehead, she smiled at him affectionately. “I know, my love,” she said, gently pushing him back down on his pillow. “I plan on changing that.”

There it was again, she’d called him, my love. A fact he found troubling, not that he minded that she was a phoenix. He’d been with several different races already, mainly because he’d been considered an exotic oddity. He was worried, because it denoted a familiarity which he’d no recollection of. And as beautiful as Suzaku was, he’d have remembered spending a night with her. Perhaps they were mated, and that’s what he’d forgotten earlier.

“I seem to be at a disadvantage,” he said, wondering how she knew him. “You seem to know me, but I can’t for the life of me, remember you.”

She smiled once more, and released a musical laugh. “Surely you remember the fountain where we found you?” she asked.

The fountain? The last thing he could remember before waking up here, was the cold dry cavern he’d been stumbling through, and how thirsty he’d been… Wait, he remembered it now. The cool damp breeze hitting his face, the smooth granite beneath his feet, the strange glowing iridescent water. It had been so dark when he found the fountain, and then he’d drank its waters deeply, before diving inside it.

“There was a fountain, I was so thirsty,” he murmured, looking up at the mirror above him. As his eyes studied his reflection, more forgotten memories came rushing back. “It was so dark inside, and then there was light. I saw them, staring down at me. I was so afraid.”

“Shh…” she whispered into his ear. “You’re safe with me, love. Do you remember the others?”

“I… I think so,” he said, trying to rack his mind. “It’s so confusing, it’s still only a blur.”

“Take your time, there’s no rush,” she said, encouraging him to continue.

“I remember, a dragon, two unicorns with wings, a pony made of water, and a hound,” he said, as the fog over his mind slowly lifted.

“What else do you remember?” she asked, looking at him with her ruby eyes.

“They spoke. Said something I can’t recall,” he replied, trying his best to remember. “There was an argument. They were angry with me for being inside the fountain. They wanted me to get out, but I was afraid of them. The hound attacked me, I’m not sure what happened next, it’s all a blur.”

“Don’t worry, it’ll come back to you in time,” she said, placing her wing on his chest.

Looking down at her vivid red feathers resting on his chest, he remembered the blood. Oh there was so much blood. “I think I killed the hound,” he said, remembering the coppery flavor of its blood in his mouth. “I remember a griffin weeping over the body, she was angry with me for killing him. The blue unicorn demanded retribution, the white one disagreed. She placed her horn to me, and I was changed somehow. How exactly, I’m not sure.”

“You’re almost there, love,” she told him, pleased that he was remembering so much on his own.

He was sure something important happened next, but he didn’t know quite what. What had the white unicorn done to him? He felt his heart pounding in his chest, as he tried desperately remembering what had happened to him. Like a metronome, his heartbeat throbbed in his chest. Why did it seem so odd and unusual, when he felt it beating away? Looking back at the mirror, he saw part of his chest was uncovered. What he saw seemed wrong somehow. He didn’t know why, but he expected to see something that wasn’t there. As if something important to him, was missing, but he couldn’t understand what. It’s not as if he was missing any scars…

Then he finally remembered what had happened. He’d removed his own heart, to save himself from being petrified by the white unicorn. “I cut out my heart,” he said, unable to remember anything after that. But how could he still feel his heartbeat? He distinctly remembered ripping it out from his chest. Then it struck him, all his missing memories. He could finally remember what had happened. There was a cave in, trapping both Little Bleu and Snowe before they could escape. They were still trapped! He had to get help for them, before they were discovered by Lasher and the others.

“Please, Suzaku,” he said, reaching towards her. “My friends, I left them trapped in the mine. Please help me save them.”

He saw her eyes fill with tears, as he begged her to aid his friends, and couldn’t understand why. There was still time. They had two weeks rations with them, they could still be rescued before it was too late.

“I’m sorry, love,” she said, unable to look at him as the guilt of her actions was eating her alive.

“Why are you sorry?” he asked, confused why she refused to look at him.

“Because that happened over five hundred years ago,” she said, wiping her eyes with a silken handkerchief.

“Five hundred years…” he said in disbelief, unable to comprehend how so much time could’ve passed. “I don’t understand, I just saw them less than four days ago.

“I did something to you, love,” she said, feeling the guilt nearly overwhelm her. “Something I shouldn’t have.”

“Suzaku,” he told her, touching her wing with his hand. “I’ve woken up in a bed for the first time in nearly ten years, I can breathe now without coughing up blood, and you’ve tended to my wounds. I have nothing but gratitude for you. Since coming to this cursed land, I’ve known nothing but misery and suffering. The kindness you’ve shown me here, I won’t soon forget it.”

When she heard his gratitude, her heart leapt for joy. The feather she loved, had thanked her. Perhaps there was hope for her yet. “Love, you don’t know how long I’ve waited for you to say that,” she said, holding his hand with her wing.

He looked at her, unsure why she kept calling him, her love. Though he vaguely remembered her at the fountain with the others, she’d not said one word to him. “Why do you keep calling me, your love, Suzaku?” he asked, curious how she knew him so well.

“Well, that’s a long story,” she said, offering him a smile, and squeezing his hand with her wing.

“It appears I have plenty of time,” he said with a grin.

Grateful for the opportunity to serve her love once more, she decided to tell him everything, “Well, it all began about two years after you removed your heart…”

*****

He sighed as one without purpose or direction. Had he been able to, he’d have offered his liege his resignation. But being bound to his master’s soul, made finding alternate employment somewhat impossible. Additionally, he couldn’t retire to his eternal rest, that avenue had been forever barred to him, when he agreed to return to his king’s side. No, his friend’s side.

His friend, two words which he wished he could say with pride. In saving his king, he’d failed his friend. Which he felt was somewhat a cruel irony. For had he come to his friend’s aid, he’d have ensured his king’s demise. However he had no regrets, and even though it had cost him his friend, he’d still performed his duty to his king. Had there been another path he could have taken, he would have gladly done so, even should the path have taken him to the Pit itself.

It was times like these he envied the ponies. They made resolving everything, seem an easy task. All that was required was a heartfelt apology, a few hugs, and maybe even a silly song or two, and their friendships were stronger than ever. But here in the South, where treachery ran rampant, once lost, trust could rarely be regained. Trust was at the crux of the issue. His master would trust him to serve him, but never be his friend again.

“Master Scourge,” he heard her say.

“Yes, little pup?” he said, looking at his disciple.

“What will you do now?” she asked, concerned for his future.

“I will continue serving the Slave King, Aria,” he said, looking into her golden eyes. “For as long as he wants me to.”

“But what if he decides to send you away?” she asked in concern. “What will you do?”

“I don’t rightfully know,” he admitted, unsure what he’d actually do should that ever come to pass.

“Then let me accompany you, Master,” she said, kneeling at his side.

When he heard her request, he narrowed his eyes. “No, little pup,” he said, unhappy with her desire. “The Slave King needs somehound here to protect him.”

“Then let him find somefeather else!” she shouted, releasing the bottled up resentment she held for their king. “I have no further desire to serve him, not if it means taking your place, Master Scourge.”

“Don’t say that, Aria, he’s your fath...” he said, trying to convince her otherwise. “He needs you here. Without us here to protect him, he’ll be vulnerable to his enemies’ machinations.”

“Then maybe he should suffer a little, for casting you aside,” she said, hardening her heart against the Slave King. “How can you still willingly serve him, when the only reward you have for preserving his life, is his scorn?”

“Though he rejects me, he’s still my friend, little pup,” he said. Sighing at her anger, he gave her a stern look of disapproval. “But more importantly, Aria, he’s our king. We serve at his pleasure.”

“I’m sorry, Master Scourge,” she said, withering from his disapproving gaze. “But it angers me, seeing you treated so unjustly. What of the next time? Should we fall on our swords in his defense, only to have him trample upon our backs as we lay dying? It’s unfair…”

“I know it is, little pup,” he said, agreeing with her assessment. “But it’s the way of things. Once the Slave King destroyed all of the Diamond Vale in his anger, but now he shows temperance and even mercy on occasion to his enemies.”

“Where’s the mercy shown to you?” she asked, remembering how angry the Slave King had been during the trial. “If Celestia hadn’t intervened on your behalf, you would’ve been found guilty.”

“But I wasn’t,” he said, offering her a smile. “The Slave King of centuries past, wouldn’t have even have bothered with the pretense of a trial. But he let Celestia, the one who had held so much of his concern and worry this past fortnight, defend me.”

“You make it sound like he’s become a sentimental feather,” she said, not sure what to think of their king.

“All I know, little pup, was before your birth he was a hard hound,” he said, remembering the many centuries he’d served their liege. “But now his judgments are tempered, perhaps his marriage will soften him further.”

“That will be the day,” she replied, not believing for a moment that the Slave King would ever show her anything more than passive indifference.

“Little pup, we shall speak of this later,” he said, when his connection to the Slave King activated, showing him the Slave King limping away from his room. “Assemble the others, I’ll see to the Slave King.”

“Yes, Master Scourge,” she said with a slight bow.

Standing up, he sprinted out the room and towards the Slave King. He hurried as quickly as he could to help him. He’d failed his friend once before, but he was determined to never let that happen again.

*****

He felt weak and lethargic. He’d not felt like this in ages, and wasn’t sure what to think about it. He always assumed that frailty, was something he no longer needed to worry about. But whatever she’d done to him, had excised that naivety. He could feel her searching for him, and felt his breath quicken with fear. Though he wasn’t given to cowardice, he felt discretion would be the best option for now.

All around him were shadows, each offering him their silken darkness to hide within, and each useless for his protection. Normally the dark was a staunch ally, firm and unwavering in its loyal service to him. But now its mistress sought him out to finish the job she’d started, and it would willingly betray him to her at a moment’s notice. He had to get to his element, if he wanted to survive the day… no the hour. His only advantage, was the palace’s winding corridors and passageways were a veritable maze, and sometimes even made him get disoriented.

The gems making up the cracked murals decorating the wall, dully reflected the dim light illuminating his path. He saw one of the large communication gems embedded in the wall, and thought about calling for help. But immediately put that thought behind him, if he couldn’t defend himself in his own home, he had no right to be called Lord of Earth. Besides his servants were all fickle in their loyalty and would refuse to heed his call, leaving him to his fate at her hands. But even if they should come to his aid, what hope could they possible stand against someone as powerful as she?

Coughing hard, he covered his mouth with his hand. Looking down, he saw the familiar sight of his blackened blood coating it. Reaching for the wall for support, he touched the gem to help steady himself. Though his bloody handprint would be a dead giveaway to which direction he’d gone, escaping the palace was his main concern. Hopefully she was still lost, as she searched for him. Limping along the wall, he nearly stumbled and fell to the ground. Cursing his clumsiness, he’d wished he’d bothered grabbing one of the bottles of draught he always kept in his room. Though he wasn’t sure how potent its healing would be against her dark curse, it would at least give him strength enough to reach his element.

Breathing heavily, he labored to move forward. He’d never felt this weak before, not in all the centuries he’d been running his domain. Even when he’d completely spent all his magical reserves, he still possessed strength enough to stand. But here he was, weaker than a child and struggling to walk. He had to hand it to Celestia, never would he have expected her to use her own sister as the means to his destruction. She’d been so adamant in him marrying Luna, and now he knew the reason why.

Pausing to catch his breath, he panted heavily as he looked at a nearby mural. It depicted Lord Darkpaw standing victoriously over his defeated enemies. Though he only ever knew his predecessor by reputation, he always had held great respect for his accomplishments. When the pony sisters finally finished him off, he wondered would they wear his skin or display his skull. Somehow he doubted it, ponies were rather skittish regarding the display of such grisly trophies. Most likely the best he could hope for, was a meager grave, or an unimpressive statue commemorating his passing.

He could feel his assassin approaching, and knew he had to keep going. Moving his right foot forward, he willed himself to continue heading towards the old garden. He wondered what the others would say, if they could see him now. He imagined Lord Ouroboros’s mocking laughter at his predicament, Lord Cerynitis’s vicious grin for her assault on him, Lord Raiden’s smug sense of superiority over his being bested by a mere female, and Lord Triton’s pitying look for succumbing to such an obvious trap. He’d reached the stairs now. When he looked at them, he groaned when he saw how many steps there were. His wound made such a simple task, seem arduous and monumental.

Limping down each step, and trying his best to avoid stumbling, he lamented that he’d passed over the others, in favor of his assassin. There was the lusty Lady Minoa, who promised him a wedding night he’d never forget. If the scene she made during his wedding was any indication, he was pretty sure Discord was enjoying a good time. The beautiful Lady Suzaku, whose love for him was undeniable. She’d offered him half her own heart, but he’d found himself unable to accept it. The fierce but tender Lady Zephyr, who loved him enough to let him go. He wondered if she’d mourn his passing like Darkpaw’s, or find comfort with his successor. Looking behind him, he was amazed that he’d successfully managed climbing down all the stairs without falling.

Though his next task wasn’t nearly as strenuous, it was infinitely more dangerous. He needed to exit the palace undiscovered or unseen by any of the others. In his weakened and vulnerable state, he had no way of defending himself. Should even the weakest member of the pantheon wish to harm him, he’d have no recourse. Carefully reaching out with his magic, he plotted his escape away from the prying and curious eyes of the others. He longed to rest but couldn’t, every delay brought her perilously closer to him.

He was nearly there now. He knew of a shorter path to the gardens, but it took him precipitously close to Celestia’s quarters, exactly where he wanted to avoid going. He was certain his assassin would return to her sister to report her failure, since she’d failed in slaying him yet. It was tempting. All the other paths to the gardens, would take much him longer to navigate, and he ran the risk of being discovered by the others. Deciding the risk was worth it, he made his way towards Celestia’s quarters. He could hear them celebrating now. Whether it was for his wedding or his funeral, he couldn’t tell.

Hobbling forward as silently as possible, he limped past her door and wished he had the strength to cast her and the rest of those vipers out of his domain. Though he’d declared a moratorium on raiding pony controlled settlements to acquire new slaves centuries prior, he was sorely tempted to rescind that policy. Celestia loved her ponies dearly, and their suffering would hurt her as greatly as she’d hurt him. Putting his thoughts of revenge aside, he decided there would time enough for planning his vengeance once he was safely in the heart of the Earth. There he’d be protected, safe from the further machinations of such cruel monsters.

They called him a monster and an uncivilized beast for his use of slavery, yet more often than not, it was the supposedly civilized races that sold their brethren in his slave markets. He’d codified the laws, tamped down the excesses, and was even now working on weaning his domain away from the need for such practices. He’d seen the supposed civility and kindness of the others domains, many thought themselves superior to the other races because they had magic or impressive pedigrees. Here all were treated equal, you did your ten and received your freedom. It might be a harsh system, but a freed slave had the respect of all, and none could compel them, not even himself.

Seeing the entrance to the garden, he sighed with relief. He’d managed to sneak past her room without being discovered. Now all he needed to do was walk the short distance down the hallway, and he’d be in the garden and finally safe. He wondered what had prompted her to follow Celestia’s plan. From what he could tell, she seemed somewhat disaffected from always standing in her sister’s shadow. He wondered had she promised her his domain if she managed to slay him. As his widow, she was probably entitled to run things for several centuries at least.

She’d seemed so happy when she’d won, he’d never had guessed it was all a deception. The way she glowed as she walked down the aisle to stand beside him at the altar, and how she’d smiled when he’d said, I do, must have been an act. All the affectionate touches and teasing during their reception, the constellation she’d gifted him with, her vow to never betray him, were all ruses to get him to let down his guard. Her honeyed words, lust filled looks, and passionate kisses, were nothing but lies and fabrication to get him to willingly open himself to her, so she could mortally wound him when she deeply thrust her knife.

But they’d made a fatal mistake. He’d been living with one foot in the grave for so long, that death was an intimate acquaintance of his. Their failure to properly kill him, would be their undoing. He’d not make the same mistake they had. When he struck back, it would be fatal. When he avenged himself, he’d not waste time with convoluted schemes and hollow boasting. Instead, he’d strike them down with a fury. The Diamond Vale fell in less than a day, Londwhinium would be no different. And when Celestia came to confront him for the deed, he’d cast her into the Pit to join Tiroc.

He could smell the garden now, he was nearly home free. He simply needed to step foot on it, and the Earth would welcome him with open arms. Stepping out of the palace, he thought of her when he felt the moonlight hit him. Though she might be beautiful like the moon she raised, her black and treacherous heart was far colder than its silvery light. He saw the garden’s sandy soil and smiled. He was finally safe now. He only had to take a few more steps, and he’d be forever safe from their treachery.

But then he heard something, which drove away any hope of salvation. “Slave King, what brings you out at this late hour?” he heard her ask, as she stepped out from behind a hedge. The sound of her hooves echoed through the moonlit garden, as she stood between him and his freedom. “I’d have thought Luna, would’ve kept you busy for most of the night.”

Narrowing his eyes at her in anger for her deception, and provocative display of feigned innocence, he glared at her. “Celestia, I’ll only say this once. Move out of my way,” his gravelly voice threatened.

Locking eyes, neither spoke, as they waited for the other to speak.

*****

The path that Chrysalis had led them, had taken them deep underground, and into what appeared to be an abandoned aqueduct.

“Are you sure this is the right way?” Gunhilde whispered, afraid that whatever horrors lurked in the darkness beyond the magical flames Melody had conjured up, might investigate the sounds of her voice.

“Quite sure,” Chrysalis said, peering into the shadows with her large green eyes. Though she didn’t know why, there was something eerily familiar about this particular changeling. “Everyhound follow me. They’ve gone this way.”

Dame Squall took the rear as the others followed after Chrysalis. Her purple eyes searching for any signs of ambush, and most importantly for more of those undead horrors. “Do you think it’s safe down here?” she asked, feeling a bit concerned that all they had was their magic to defend themselves with.

“Yes,” Melody replied, turning to look at her friend. “This aqueduct’s been abandoned and sealed for ages. There’s no chance anything from the city could get inside here.”

“How can you be so sure?” she asked, not quite sure she believed it was as safe as her companion insisted it was. “That ghast managed to find its way inside the palace, despite your sister’s wards.”

“The only access inside here, is a few passages from the palace, and the main one in the Slave King’s vault,” she said, sending a few dancing flames circling overhead. “The only access to the city is walled off and warded, nothing’s getting inside.”

“I don’t care how safe you think it is,” Gunhilde said, allowing magic to build up in her antlers. “I won’t feel safe until we’ve found this changeling, and are back in the palace.”

“This is probably the safest place in the palace,” Melody said, making her conjured flames twirl about as she moved her fingers. “After all, this is Nightmare’s favorite place to brood.”

“Oh, I feel so much safer,” Chrysalis deadpanned, hoping she’d never have to face that malevolent creature again, not if she could help it.

Up ahead, they saw the golden light emanating from the treasury, which chased away the darkness as it illuminated their path. Bringing a claw to her muzzle, Chrysalis motioned for the others to be quiet as they crept forward. Her tail wagged with excitement, she could tell they were getting close now. But still the familiarity she felt about this particular changeling, kept eating away at her. She felt fear, anxiety, anger, and excitement all at once. She wondered, what possible reason a changeling might want to enter the Slave King’s massive treasury. Sure some of her fellow changelings collected wealth, but they were in the minority. And there were infinitely easier places to steal from than the treasury, the palace walls were covered in gems for queen’s sake!

Stepping out of the tunnel and into the massive cavern which served as the vault, was a breathtaking experience. Not only did the mountains of gold bits and sparkling gems nearly blind her, but the ceiling was dizzyingly high and illuminated by thousands of magical gems. Raising her paw, she motioned for the others to join her.

“Okay,” Chrysalis whispered, pointing towards the center of the treasury. “The changeling went that way.”

“Oh, that’s where all the good stuff is,” Melody said, extinguishing her magical fire. “There’s no telling what they might be after. Hopefully The Vendetta, which will save us the trouble of escorting them to a cell.”

“So what’s the plan?” Gunhilde asked, warily eying the mountains of treasure for signs of the changeling.

“I say we split up into two groups,” Dame Squall suggested, remembering her last encounter with a changeling. “Attack them from two directions simultaneously. Hopefully we can get the drop on them, before they transform into something unmanageable.”

“I don’t think we’ll have to worry about that,” Chrysalis whispered, trying to learn all she could from the pheromones they’d left behind. “Very few can do more than simple transformations.”

“But what if we get one of the more powerful ones?” Dame Squall replied, not wishing relive her failure at Bone’s Landing.

“Then I suggest you try to render them unconscious,” Chrysalis explained. “Changelings revert to their natural state when knocked out.”

“She seems rather well versed with changeling lore,” Dame Squall whispered to Melody, feeling suspicious of their guide’s knowledge.

“The Slave King’s servants usually all have useful skills and knowledge,” Melody replied, crouching behind a large pile of coins.

“How about, Gunhilde and I go around the left, while Melody and the seapony go right?” Chrysalis suggested.

“It’s Dame Squall,” she whispered, annoyed with her. “No, Melody and Gunhilde can both fly, they should approach from above. We can head towards the center.”

Chrysalis narrowed her eyes, she didn’t trust nor like the seapony in the least. “What do you think, Gunhilde?” she asked, hoping her keeper would accept her plan over the newcomer’s.

“I agree with Dame Squall,” she said, taking flight. “Come, Melody, let’s try using those columns for sneaking around to the far side.”

Melody nodded in agreement, opened her wings, and joined the reindeer in the air. With a salute of her fingers to Dame Squall, she silently flew off towards one of the larger pillars supporting the ceiling.

Finding herself with the seapony chevaleresse, Chrysalis motioned with her head, for her to follow her towards the center of the vault. Though changelings didn’t often prey upon seaponies in general, the knights of the Lawgiver were notorious for hunting them down whenever they could. They considered it nearly a rite of passage for young knights who’d just received their spurs, to slay one in single combat. Though Chrysalis had never been hunted by their number, she’d heard the stories from her fellow hivemates, and as a result, held little love for the seapony race. She wondered that if she knew what she really was, would she so willingly fight alongside her.

They were close now, their pheromones showed they’d passed here not more than five minutes earlier. Motioning with her paw to Dame Squall, she pointed towards a column and then themselves. Her companion nodded in agreement and headed towards it. Satisfied she was in place, Chrysalis crept towards a large treasure pile. She saw Dame Squall looking at her questioningly. Motioning with her paw to move towards the other side, she made her way forward when she saw the seapony move behind the pillar. Moving carefully with her back to the massive pile of wealth, she poked her head out, and gasped when she saw who it was.

It was none other than Second! The cruel and merciless diamond dog who’d beaten her, before turning her over to his unicorn flunky for further torture. She felt cold fear in the pit of her stomach as she thought about facing him again, but then she detected his pheromones. Taking a closer look at him, she saw some of the details were out of place. In fact, it looked like a mirror image of Second, rather than the real thing. She breathed a sigh of relief, either this changeling was stupid, or over confident in their abilities. A handicap which she’d readily accept.

Looking up, she saw the others were in place, and glancing towards the column, she saw Dame Squall waiting for her signal. Nodding to her, she stepped forward, and prepared to stop this changeling thief.

*****

He’d listened to his host with rapt attention. The story seemed almost too fantastic to be true, but he’d learned over the years to keep an open mind. After all, had someone told him he’d be stuck in a mine, the property of diamond dogs for nearly a decade, before coming here, he would’ve called them nuts. Though the story might’ve had place among some grand adventure tale told around a campfire, he found himself feeling hollow and empty.

Though he’d had no love for his former masters, when he learned what happened to the city. He looked at her with glassy eyed horror, though his cruel masters were all dead, so many undeserving of such a fate had also perished with them. He thought of the many slaves he once knew, crushed to death beneath tons of stone, and held his head in his hands as he shook. He thought of some of the diamond dogs he’d once worked with, though it was frowned upon, many had shown him small kindnesses over the years. None of them deserved suffering such a fate. He thought of the children, innocent of their parent’s crimes, and felt overwhelmed with emotion.

When he learned it had been nearly five hundred years since he’d last seen his friend and adopted daughter, he mourned that he’d never had the chance to tell either of them goodbye. He thought of his promise to her, for them to swim together in the sea beneath the sun and moon, and vowed he’d make good on it once he was well enough to move. He wondered if they’d had a good life after escaping the mines. Though he’d asked her what finally became of them, she shook her head, being unsure of their ultimate fate.

Fate, the idea of it, seemed alien to him. But from what he’d been told, he’d been fated to be far greater than an escaped slave. He’d become some sort of powerful demigod. Though he didn’t believe in his former master’s claims of divine protection by Lord Darkpaw, he did believe the pantheon were extraordinarily magically powerful beings. And judging by Suzaku’s story, if it was true, he’d been created from the aether with nothing more than a few odds and ends bubbling away in a cauldron.

When he’d inquired about what kind of Lord of Earth he was, he was pleased when he heard he’d transformed the desert nation into a trade powerhouse. If he was going to feel vicariously guilty for the destruction of the Diamond Vale, by god he’d take pride in the accomplishments as well. When she told him how he’d apparently made it all happen, he felt ill. Slavery. The thought of it, made him rub his hateful brands with anger. Oh sure, she tried telling him about the so called reforms, but the fact there was still slavery going on and that he was enabling it, made him burn with shame.

He didn’t consider himself a good man, but he knew right from wrong. Though Snowe had been a good friend to him, he’d often regretted the events that led up to his capture. Had he not been so weak and afraid, they might’ve never been enslaved in the first place. His only consolation was that’s where he’d met Little Bleu, and if he had to suffer as a result, he felt it was worthy trade. His Little Bleu, she’d been the one constant in his life, which managed to keep him going in the face of adversity.

As the only human (or wayfarer, as Suzaku claimed he was) in existence, the chance to have children of his own was forever beyond him. He’d always wondered, if he had found the right woman to settle down with, would he have made a good parent? But thanks to the tiny frightened filly he met in the slave pens all those years ago, he’d had the opportunity to be a father. A wayfarer, a griffin, and a pony, an odd family if there ever was one. But they were his, and he’d been contented with his lot.

But when she told him about his children, he felt something between joy and fury. Though he loved Little Bleu with all his heart, he’d never had the chance to raise her from foalhood. He would have loved the chance to hold her in his arms and rock her to sleep, singing her lullabies, teaching her to walk and speak, and seeing her grow into adulthood. Apparently fate had decided to compensate him for snatching him from his world, and stealing away any chance of him ever having children of his own.

When he saw the portrait of Aria, Melody, and Harmony all standing together and smiling, he felt his heart ache that he’d not been able to be a proper father for them. He could see pieces of him in each of them, Aria’s proud posture, Melody’s entrancing smile, and Harmony’s wise eyes. Knowing that he’d never have the chance to raise them, pained him in a way he never knew he could suffer. When she sensed his hurt, she laid beside him and gently cradled him in her wings.

They’d been sitting together like this, for what seemed to be hours. Looking at her, he wondered why she’d bothered going through all the trouble of bringing him to life. “Suzaku,” he said, wondering what exactly she wanted with him. “From what you’ve told me, I’ve done terrible things, and hurt you greatly. Why did you give me life?”

She laid her head against his and smiled. “Because I love you,” she said, as if that was all the reason she needed.

“But I’m not the man you love,” he protested, worried she expected him to love her in return. Though he was forever grateful for what she’d done for him. He was unwilling to fake affection for her. “The one you love, is someone else entirely.”

“I know, love,” she said, basking in his warmth. “But you came from the same place, you might not share his memories, but you share the same heart.”

“I think you might be disappointed,” he said, pointing out there was no guarantee he’d ever return her feelings. “Love is fickle and fleeting.”

She looked at him and smiled. “So thoughtful and considerate,” she said, brushing a wing through his hair. “But love is also generous and kind. All I ask is that you give me a chance, and let me love you.”

“I don’t think I have the strength for sex,” he said, wondering how copulation with a phoenix would even work.

When she heard his concerns, she released a musical laugh. “Aha, ha, ha, ha, my love,” she chuckled, as a rosy blush flushed her cheeks. “Though it would be my pleasure to share your bed, I only meant for you to allow me to show you my love.”

Relieved she wasn’t expecting him to be her lover just yet, he laid back against the pillows. He touched the scar along her breast, and looked up at her questioningly. “You must have loved me a lot, to willingly give up half your heart,” he said, wondering how badly it must have hurt.

“I do,” she wistfully said, holding his hand against the scar which rested above her beating heart. “But you’re just as worthy, as he.”

“But what if I never return your feelings, Suzaku?” he asked, worried she’d suffer heartbreak a second time at his hand.

“That you give me the chance I never had before, is all I ask,” she said, resting her head against his shoulder. “But there will be time enough for that later. Rest and regain your strength, my love.”

He nodded and yawned, as he felt sleep overtake him. He certainly had a lot to think about. Less than a week previous, all he had to worry about was finding enough gems to fill his quota. But now, he learned that he’d been essentially asleep for five hundred years, the only family he’d ever really known and loved had undoubtedly perished in his absence, and apparently he’d been responsible for all manner of atrocities.

He watched Suzaku turn down the lights, exit the room, and close the door behind her. He didn’t quite know what to think about her. He owed his existence to her, yet she clung to the hope that he would return her feelings. He was certainly grateful to the kindness she’d shown him, and as far as her being from another race, her feathered plumage didn’t bother him. He’d already had the chance to experience sex with many of the various equestrian tribes, during the month he’d been forced to perform in a local brothel.

His master, thought his unique and exotic slave would have turned him a tidy sum. But reality showed beyond a few thrill seekers, most preferred sex with members of their own race. But judging by their three daughters, she obviously had no problem in that regard. Feathered folk he thought she’d called them, he couldn’t quite believe he’d somehow managed to father children with someone outside his race. Apparently, there were even dragon, diamond dog, and griffin half-breeds as well. He guessed being a member of the pantheon had its privileges.

Slowly closing his eyes, he yawned once more. Though he still had many questions, they’d have to wait until tomorrow. For now, he would dream of the child he’d lost, and children he’d gained.

Author's Note

Thank you gentlereader for reading chapter 18 of The Book of Water: The Marriage of the Slave King, as always comments are appreciated. I had originally planned for this to be the final chapter, however the chapter size began to grow beyond 10k and needed to be split up. So expect another round of daily updates, until the end.

Second;s master has finally made his move, and seems to want the Elements of Harmony of all things. I wonder why he fears their power? Bazzt Zzzt seems to be moving up in the world, while Second looks on. I wonder what he thinks about this. And I wonder whether Gunhilde will side with Dame Squall or Melody regarding their little wager. And when they confront Bazzt Zzzt, I wonder who will emerge victorious. Celestia and the Slave King seem to have little to say to each other, perhaps their actions will be louder then words. And I wonder what the Slave King's heart made flesh will do, when he learns finally learns the truth.

Find out the answers to these questions and more, in the next exciting chapter of The Book of Water: Marriage of the Slave King, coming to computer near you!

Once again gentlereader, thank you for reading and all your kind words and support. You make writing worthwhile. Until next time!

Chapter 19: Something Old, Something New, The Blushing Bride, and Her Reluctant Groom: Part V: The Honeymoon Is Over Now

The Book of Water: The Marriage of the Slave King

A Story by TalonMach5

Chapter 19: Something Old, Something New, The Blushing Bride, and Her Reluctant Groom: Part V: The Honeymoon Is Over Now

She walked towards him boldly, as if she owned the place. Each step she took was designed to enflame the passions of her prey. Taking a provocative posture, she stood behind her target. “Hello, Master Second,” she said, her sultry voice oozed sensuality. She smirked when she saw him visibly jump from her unexpected intrusion.

“What're you doing here?” he demanded, giving her hard pointed look.

“The Slave King sent me to fetch you,” she said, presenting her curvy flanks for him to ogle.

Second’s narrowed his eyes worriedly for a moment, before giving her a thoughtful look. “Did he say what about?” he asked, looking towards a pedestal holding several large gems.

She languidly stretched her muscles, before offering him another sultry smile. “No,” she said, moving closer to him. “He just said it was important.”

“Well, you’ve delivered the message,” he said, backing away from her. “You can go now.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Master Second,” she said. “The Slave King specifically asked me to escort you to his quarters. He mentioned something about some of his servants being untrustworthy.”

“Is that so?” Second said, giving her a thoughtful look. “Does anyhound else know you came to get me?”

When she heard the question, she gave Second a look of annoyance. “The Slave King expects discretion in his personal servants,” she said. “I would never betray his trust. I’ve told nohound else about his assignment.”

“That’s good, um…” he said, fishing for the messenger’s name. “What did you say your name was again?”

“I didn’t,” she teased, brushing her tail beneath his nose. “But if it pleases you, Master Second, I’m known as Chrysalis.”

“You’re a little minx,” Second said, giving her a lusty look.

“Oh, I try,” she tittered, bringing up a paw to her muzzle. “But I only live to serve. Can I serve you, Master Second?”

Chrysalis’s invitation to fornicate, was exactly the opening he was looking for. He’d have his way with her, then strangle the life right out of her. It was a shame too, he was sure she would’ve offered him hours of entertainment. But such is life, he had a mission to complete, and he was nothing but a consummate professional.

She shuddered as he touched her, for the second time in two weeks, she’d been mounted by a fellow changeling. She found the experience completely unfulfilling. At least with a nonchangeling, she would’ve gotten a bit of love to sate her appetite. But her partner didn’t even afford her that.

Feigning pleasure at the faux Second’s touch, she cried out. “Now. Do it now!”

Hearing the signal, Melody, Gunhilde, and Dame Squall approached the pair.

Angered at their intrusion, Second glared angrily at them. “This is a restricted area!” he barked.

“Oh really, Second?” Melody asked, wearing a bemused smile. “I don’t take orders from you. And whatever happened to you eye?”

When he heard her mention his eye, he scowled. Stepping away from Chrysalis, Second backed away from them, and towards the pedestal behind him. “Melody, it’s unfortunate that you’ve decided to rebel against your betters,” he said, looking at the four of them darkly. “When the Slave King hears of your betrayal, I don’t know what he’ll say.”

“There’s only one traitor here, and I’m looking right at him,” she countered, readying her magic.

“Betraying our master to Lord Triton,” he said with a vicious laugh. “You should be ashamed.”

“Shut up!” Melody demanded. “There’s no way he would take my word over yours. Besides, I have three witnesses.”

“Coconspirators in your plot to betray the Slave King, no doubt,” he said, circling a nearby pedestal. “But your witnesses, can easily be remedied.”

“Drop the act, whoever you are,” Gunhilde said, lowering her antlers. “We know you’re not Second.”

Ever smiling the faux Second, gave the reindeer a smirk. “Congratulations, slave,” he said, clapping his paws together. “Whatever gave me away? Was it my chipper attitude, or perhaps my dashingly good looks?”

“Reveal yourself, scoundrel!” Dame Squall demanded, holding her fins at the ready, and preparing to subdue him.

“I think I’ll start by killing the reindeer first,” he said, pointing his claw at each of them. “Then the harper, followed by the bitch, and I’ll save the seapony for last.”

The moment she heard his plans, Gunhilde decided to take matters into her own hooves. Releasing the magic she’s stored in her antlers, she released it all at Second in a flurry of silvery ice. The resulting look of frozen surprise on his muzzle was fitting, she thought.

“You talk too much,” she derisively said to the block of frozen ice. “Lets move him to the dungeons, so the Slave king can deal with him later.”

“Chrysalis, are you sure he was actually a changeling?” Melody asked, poking the block of ice thoughtfully. “I mean if that was the real Second, we’ll have some explaining to do.”

“Oh, I’m certain,” she said, pointing towards his markings. “His markings are all reversed, as is his brand.”

Before Melody could respond, they heard a large crack echo throughout the treasury. Turning around to check their prisoner, they were surprised to see Gunhilde’s icy prison in pieces. “Howz cleverz of youse,” a menacing voice said. “Meez gonna killz youse firstz.”

“I know that voice,” Dame Squall said, immediately thinking of the changeling that had escaped her at Bone’s Landing.

A pair of blue eyes peered out at her from the treasure pile, before revealing itself to be the selfsame changeling she’d fought alongside Dawson and Melody. With a chittering laugh, it buzzed its wings, leapt into the air, and left them behind it.

“Come on everydeer, let’s stop him before he manages to escape,” Gunhilde said, leaping up into the air after it.

Spying a trident resting on one of the pedestals, Dame Squall picked it up, and joined Gunhilde in the chase. Chrysalis for her part, picked up some hefty gems with her paws, and began lobbing them at the fleeing changeling.

Seeing the others were being kept occupied, Harmony moved towards the pedestal the changeling had been next to. Examining the treasure it held, all she could see were six rather nondescript gems. They didn’t seem like anything special, in fact unlike all the other gems kept in the vault, they were rather remarkable, beyond the fact each was cloudy and dark in their interior. Reaching out to pick one up and examine it, she shrieked in pain as a painful bolt of energy hit her in the ribs.

“Hands to yourself, Melody,” a voice instructed.

Looking to see who it was that had attacked her, she was surprised to see a strange unicorn levitating the gems off the pedestal, and into a satchel he was carrying. “It’s a shame you didn’t join the others in chasing my double,” he said, with a vicious grin. “You might have lived a bit longer. I bid you adieu.”

With a murderous smile, the unicorn thief launched a flurry of magical bolts at her. Trying to avoid the magical attack, Melody leapt to the side, screaming in pain as several of the bolts struck her. With a vicious chuckle the changeling turned unicorn, scrambled for the exit with no one the wiser.

Narrowing her eyes in determination, Melody picked up a small gem, and threw it as hard as she could at the escaping unicorn. The gem sailed through the air, flying true towards its target. When it struck, the unicorn released a scream of pain, as it shattered against his horn. Immediately, the changeling illusion the others were following vanished.

“Where did it go?” Gunhilde asked, trying to figure out what had happened to her quarry.

“Secure the exits!” Melody shouted, trying to stay conscious through her pain.

“It was a nothing but a dirty trick,” Dame Squall seethed, angry at having been so easily fooled, before heading towards the entrance to the aqueduct they had used to enter the vault. Spying a unicorn rubbing its horn gingerly, she held her trident aloft as she prepared to engage it in combat. “Stand down thief!”

The unicorn, spying the angry chevaleresse rushing towards him with her weapon at the ready, shook his head. “How about no?” he said, trying to cast a spell at her. When nothing but a few magical sparks sputtered from his horn, he shot her a dirty look. “It looks like I’m going to have to get my hooves a bit dirty.”

“Not if I beat you senseless first!” she cried out, happy for the chance to avenge her tarnished honor from their last encounter.

“You know seapony, you’ve become a right pain in my neck,” he said, as he shifted his form. His body went translucent, and legs lengthened into transparent tentacles. “Let me return the favor.”

“You!” she said, recognizing the ghast she’d fought to a standstill, before it ended up nearly killing her.

“Oh, I see you recognize me?” he said with great amusement in his voice. Sending out his tentacles, he tried overwhelming her, so he could choke the life out of her. “Don’t worry, seapony, once I’ve killed you and your little friends. I’ll take care of your little coltfriend next.”

“Don’t you dare!” she roared, trusting the trident at her foe. “You’ll not escape the Lawgiver’s justice.”

At her threats, the ghast seemed nonplussed. Reaching out with all his tentacles, he wrested the trident free from her fin, and picked her up. Holding her aloft, the ghast looked at her menacingly. “Fool,” he said, as he slowly drained her life force. “I shall do the same to the griffin-half, taking your form. Think about that as you enter the Pit.”

“You first!” Gunhilde shouted, throwing the discarded trident at the ghast’s bad eye.”

When the trident made contact with the ghast, it let out a loud shriek. Dropping Dame Squall to the ground, it withdrew its tentacles, and began changing shape once more. Slowly its body coalesced and lengthened, large rune covered bones bursting out of its once transparent form into something monstrous. All along its body, green magic flowed, stopping at its skull’s empty sockets. The large dragon like skeletal construct rested its burning eyes at its prey, and offered them a toothy smile.

Chrysalis dragged the unconscious Dame Squall to safety, as the changeling transformed into this new horror.

“Tonight I shall dine on your flesh,” he said, flexing his claws. “I’d hoped to pin the theft on the seapony, and by extension Lord Triton. But you had to be uncooperative. I guess we can’t have everything we want, now can we?”

Noticing her fear, Chrysalis pointed to Gunhilde’s brand. “Use what the Slave King gave you!” she ordered. “You have his power!”

Gunhilde felt fear like never before as the skeletal monstrosity approached them. Accessing her brand, she was surprised to see the glowing ley lines of the Earth all around her. Drawing on its power, she commanded the Earth to protect them.

The changeling turned dracoliche looked at his prey, bemused at their resistance. Normally those who had annoyed him, he’d make suffer. But tonight he was on a time table and couldn’t afford the delay, after all he still had to deal with Melody once he’d killed this rabble. Reaching forth his claws, he attempted crushing them beneath its great weight. When he failed to hear the satisfying crunch of their bones beneath his claw, he looked down and saw to his disappointment that he'd failed to be crush them.

Looking down, he was annoyed when he saw his claw entangled in iron. With a slight chuckle, he touched the magical fire burning in his chest, and gave them a wicked smile. “Let’s see you escape my fiery breath,” he said, preparing to bathe them with his flames.

“Not so fast, you slug!” Melody shouted, flying right towards him.

“What the…?” the dracoliche said, confused and unprepared for her assault.

“Hurry up, and get Dame Squall out of here!” Melody shouted to them, as she landed on his shoulder.

“Why you little pest. I’ll kill you!” he shouted, trying to rake her with his free claw.

“You have to catch me first!” Melody replied, sticking out her tongue at him. Spying the satchel attached to him, she sprinted towards it, and relieved him of it.

“No!” the dracoliche howled, furious that she’d managed to take back the gems he’d stolen. Firing several blasts of flames at her, he roared as she managed to evade them, and only managed to hit himself.

“You’re going to be in so much trouble, when King Daddy hears what you’ve been up to!” she said, taking flight down the aqueduct away from him.

“No!” the dracoliche screamed, trying to follow after her. Unable to with its claw entangled, the changeling changed shape once more.

Hearing the echoes of its fearsome roars, Dame Squall’s eyes fluttered open. She was being carried on Chrysalis’s back as they ran. “What happened?” she groggily asked.

“No time to talk, busy running for our lives,” Chrysalis panted, as she ran as hard as she could.

“Hurry! Melody shouted form behind them. “It’s on its way.”

“We’ll never make it to the exit in time,” Gunhilde said, tapping into the Earth ley lines. She could see the exit up ahead, but also the changeling chasing after them. And it was moving faster than they were.

“Can’t you do something to slow it down?” Chrysalis asked Gunhilde.

“I’m not sure,” she said, unsure what she could do to stop it.

“Maybe flood the aqueduct?” Dame Squall suggested. “My magic could protect us.”

Using the magic bequeathed to her by the Slave King, she traced the ley lines until they intersected with those of the other domains. All she kept finding was fire, and though she was sure molten magma would stop their pursuer, it would also undoubtedly kill them. Then she found the key to their salvation, a water ley line. Though she wasn’t sure it would work, she went to work leading the water to them.

“Any luck, Gunhilde?” Melody asked.

“I’m not sure, the water’s so deep beneath us,” she said, trying her best to bring it to the aqueduct.

“I have you now!” the changeling’s voice echoed from behind them.

With a great burst, the changeling’s massive bulk surged forward, cutting them off from their escape and trapping them. Having dropped the dracoliche’s form, the changeling now wore the guise of a serpent. With a large forked tongue and curved fangs, it looked down at them menacingly.

Gunhilde felt the water gushing past the ley lines she’d touched, and smiled confidently. "It’s working, get ready, Dame Squall,” she said, hoping the plan would work out.

Feeling water pooling up at its scales, the changeling looked down as saw a small dribble of water pouring out from the long unused pipes. “What are you going to do, give me a bath?” he asked, with a mocking laugh. “Now hand over the satchel, and I promise to kill you quick.”

“Never!” Melody defiantly shouted, throwing several fireballs at the serpent.

When they struck him, the serpent snarled in pain over his singed scales. “How utterly pointless,” he said, wrapping his coils around them. “I’m going to enjoy killing you.”

“I think not,” a voice echoed through the aqueduct.

“Who said that?” he snarled, furious that he’d been discovered by someone else. Feeling the water beneath him starting to roil, he moved to grab the satchel containing the stones.

“Don’t let him take the stones!” Melody heard somefeather whisper in her ear.

Holding onto the satchel, she fought with the serpent as he tried pulling it free of her grasp. “Let go, damn it!” he growled, as she struggled against him.

“Never!” she shouted, as he tightened his coils mercilessly around her.

Before he could respond, he heard a rumble approaching them from behind. Turning to see what it was, he nearly lost his grip on his prey when he saw a wall of water approaching them. Redoubling his effort to reclaim the satchel from Melody’s grasp, he pulled as hard as he could. As they struggled against each other, neither of them noticed as the stitches holding it together began tearing.

“Grab hold of me!” Dame Squall said, as the water rushed towards them.

All four of them grabbed onto one another, right before the wall of water smashed into the serpent coiled around them. Melody felt her grasp on the satchel slipping, as the water hit them. Sensing her hold weakening, he redoubled his efforts, and gave the satchel one last tug. With a loud rip, the satchel split in two, sending the six gems it held flying into air.

“No!” the serpent raged, furious at losing the gems. Letting them go from his coils, he began searching the rushing waters frantically, hoping to reclaim them from the furious torrent raging around them.

Once they were freed from his grasp, the water’s current carried them away from the serpent to safety. The last thing they heard before the water over took them, was the frustrated screams of their foe having been denied his prize.

*****

She wandered the twisting paths of the unfamiliar palace, desperately looking for him. He was wounded and hurt, and though she was unsure why, he was angry with her. She didn’t know the cause of his anger, and right now she didn’t care. All she desired was to see him protected and safe from further injury.

I guess you don’t know your own strength, Luna, the voice whispered. Replaying the moment right before he cried out in pain, and limped away from her.

Silence, Luna demanded, as worry for her husband raced through her mind.

Did you see the fear in his eyes when he looked at you, the voice continued. What must he think of you now?

Stumbling through the many passages blindly in her search for him, she nearly missed the bloody handprint on the wall. When she saw his black blood, her heart nearly broke. What did this to thee, husband? she wondered, imagining him laying against a wall, all alone and dying.

What’s the matter, Luna, the Black? the voice asked. Afraid you won’t be there to finish him off?

Nay, miscreant. Cease with thy slanderous and despicable insinuations, she demanded, as worry for her husband’s safety raced through her mind.

Baseless? The voice bemusedly asked. You roughed up Lady Minoa when she angered you. Perhaps in your eagerness and arousal to enjoy your husband, you nearly broke him.

We would never do such a thing, we love him, she protested, worried the voice was speaking the truth.

What would the rest of the pantheon say should they discover what happened tonight? the voice theorized. What would Celestia think, when she learns what you’ve done to him?

We’ve done nothing wrong, we art good and kind! Luna shouted, trying to drown out the accusations with the volume of her voice. We love him, we truly do!

Poor unloved, Luna, the voice cooed in the back of her mind. Treated so unjustly by the others, not even your own husband cares for you. That’s why you hurt him, isn’t it?

Silence! Luna cried out, as her eyes welled with angry tears. He does love us, he must.

It’s not love he holds for you, only pity, the voice replied, seemingly relishing her pain. You saw reflected in his eyes the scorn he held for you. He hurt you badly, so you repaid the favor.

We would never…. Luna protested, breaking down into tears, as she was unable to prove her innocence to the accusing voice. Part of her began wondering, had some unconscious part of her decided to hurt the Slave King for rebuffing her?

It’s alright, sweet Luna, the voice said. Your secret is safe with me. He deserved it for jilting you on your wedding night, didn’t he?

Luna said nothing, instead choosing to resume her search for her wayward husband. Spying a nearby stairwell, she noticed another bloody smear on the wall. He’d gone this way, she thought, anxiously climbing down the stairs after him.

The sounds of her hooves against the stone steps, echoed through the stairwell, almost as if was the pounding of her own beating heart. She felt anxiety and worry for his wellbeing, and no matter what the voice claimed, she only desired to help rid him of whatever wicked curse had befallen him. She imagined herself rescuing him from the evil that possessed him, carrying him to their bed, where she’d stand guard as he slept. She’d nurse him back to health, sustaining him with her own divinity if need be, until he’d made a full recovery. And once his strength had been restored, he’d thank her, holding her tenderly, and telling her how much he appreciated and cared for her.

Yes, she thought, determined that her husband would know the depths of her feelings for him. She would tend his wounds, and see to his healing and good health. After all, he claimed she was a foal for thinking she loved what she didn’t know. Once he’s seen the devotion she held for him, he would know she truly loved him. And maybe, just maybe, then he’d know her enough to be able to love her back, then the voice would never be able to accuse her of such villainy ever again. Her heart and motives towards her husband were pure, and none could possibly deny it.

The smell of fresh earth and blooming flowers filled her nostrils. Of course, she thought, amazed she hadn’t bothered looking for him in the first place, he logically would’ve gone to. He needs to rejuvenate himself in his element. We shall escort him there, ensuring none further molest him.

Walking down the hall towards the garden where she hoped to find him, she imagined herself supporting her husband as he hobbled towards the safety of the Earth. There she would stand guard, acting as a silent sentinel until he was well enough to leave the safety of the Earth’s protection.

However, when she entered the garden, what she saw was enough to set her blood boiling. The Slave King, her husband, was being embraced by Celestia, her sister.

*****

He rushed towards his master with wild abandon, determined to never fail him again. Though he claimed they were no longer friends and couldn’t be trusted, the ties that bound them together were stronger than steel. Though his friend might cast him away for an age and a day, should he call, he would come.

He could still remember the serpent’s question, “Will you come to him in his hour of need?” Though it meant leaving paradise behind, and stranding him in the world of the living until the end, he felt it was a small price to pay. All that mattered to him was his friend needed him, and he would answer the clarion call.

Once again his friend needed him, and though he didn’t call to him for aid, he felt it resonate in his bones. His friend had feared calling out, afraid that nohound would come. He wanted to reassure his friend, let him he know he had no cause to fear. That even though the heavens and the earth wasted away, he would still come. He would always come.

He was once called Toby, a diamond dog of no consequence. It was by sheer accident and coincidence, they even met. But when he was pulled out from under Lord Darkpaw’s throne, frightened and shivering by the great and terrible Slave King, there was something about him that called out to him. When he was told of Lord Darkpaw’s passing, he knew he was meant to serve him until the end of his days.

When he pledged his loyalty to his new master, what happened next was totally unexpected. He was touched by the Slave King’s divinity. As his flesh warped and bones thickened, he felt the Slave King’s despair and mourned with him. Though he didn’t know it at the time, this act of creation had somehow bound them together. And when his master called, he would answer. He would always answer.

He saw her then, out of the corner of his eye. Nightmare cast a hateful glance at him, before redoubling her efforts to come to their master’s side. Have you come to gloat over his corpse? her eyes seemed to accuse.

Looking into her red eyes, they almost looked as if she’d been crying. In all the centuries he’d known her, not once had he known her to shed a single tear. Oh certainly she’d pouted and whined to their master, over some small thing that annoyed her. On occasion she’d even sulked when she wasn’t allowed to have her way. But crying, he’d always thought that was beyond her.

Without slowing down, he kept pace with her great strides. “He needs us,” he said, reaffirming his loyalty to their liege.

She regarded him thoughtfully as they ran to aid him together. For the first time in days, her eyes soften somewhat towards him. No longer with every passing glance, did they scream traitor at him. For now they were allies united in a common cause, to protect the Slave King their lord and master, from further harm.

*****

Though the ruins all around her were filled with the sad echoes of the dead, the garden she was wandering through seemed to sing a joyous melody to her. The earth beneath her hooves, which had lain fallow for centuries, was finally beginning to swell with life once again. It gladdened her heart to see the Earth once again fulfilling its purpose. Ever since Lord Darkpaw’s passing it had cried out in mourning to her, wishing to bloom once more.

It filled her with sorrow that most of the Domain of Earth suffered, as its neighbors were allowed to fulfill their purpose unfettered. Seeing this garden bloom after being denied for so long, gave her hope the rest of his domain would follow suite in the years to come. Though he might bristle against his marriage to her sister at first, she was sure married life would agree with him soon enough. She’d seen in him a heart aching to be loved, and her sister was such a gentle caring soul, he’d be unable to resist her for long.

All he needed was some understanding, patience, and a little time. And then just like this garden, his desolate heart would bloom into a thing of beauty. She felt the rest of the desolate ruins of this place and the Earth, impatiently crying out for their turn to blossom. Soon, she thought. Have patience, he’ll hear your cries soon enough, and with a joyous heart allow you to grow.

As she enjoyed the peace of this place, a gentle breeze blew past her muzzle, making her nostrils flare with displeasure. She smelt the tainted blood of some poor dying thing. Though she was sure the unfortunate creature, had run afoul of some evil that lived in the ruins, her kind heart couldn’t bear to see anypony suffer. Deciding to come to its aid, she followed the garden’s path to the source of the corrupted scent.

Rounding a corner she discovered the source, it was none other than the Slave King himself. With worry in her lavender eyes, she watched him from behind the hedge. He was nearly naked, and didn’t look well. His normally pale skin was nearly bereft of color, and his flaming green eyes sputtered as they struggled to keep burning. The scar along his chest seemed to have split open, leaking a black substance which could only guess was blood. He struggled to stand, and when he breathed, more often than not, he coughed up the same black blood leaking from his chest.

Judging by his condition, he’d certainly seen better days. In fact she decided, not since she’d first laid eyes upon him, had he looked worse. He had the look of somepony with one hoof firmly in the grave. Though she was concerned for her sister’s wellbeing, her curiosity could wait. For now, all that mattered was ensuring he survived his ordeal.

He’d not noticed her presence yet. Deciding she needed to stabilize him, she approached him as she magically scanned his body. Wishing to place him at ease and hopefully accept her help, she offered him a kind smile. “Slave King, what brings you out at this late hour?” she asked, hoping her magic would reveal the cause of his suffering. He didn’t reply to her inquiry, instead choosing to remain silent. It was as if his mind was suffering from a stupor or trance. She came even closer, and offered him another warm smile. Hoping to draw even closer, she decided to offer him a little humor. “I’d have thought, Luna would’ve kept you busy for most of the night.”

Though she’d hoped what she said in jest would provoke a reaction, she was unprepared for what happened next. Instead of the mischievous twinkle his eyes sometimes held, or the unwept tears he always kept back, this time his eyes burned with a vicious malevolence. She’d only seen that look from him once before. Back at the first moot he’d attended, he was asked what he planned on doing if he was allowed to leave the moot unimpeded. His answer spoke for itself, the destruction of the Diamond Vale and its tens of thousands of inhabitants, some guilty others not, but each receiving an equal portion of his wrath.

She wanted to rush to his side and demand who’d done this to him, she wanted to assure him of her protection and good intentions. She wanted to make sure that he knew she and her sister were his family now, and would gladly stand by his side. Instead, she waited for him to speak.

Wearily he looked at her, and rested his hate filled gaze on her. Struggling to stand as he walked, he approached and stood in front of her muzzle. “Celestia, I’ll only say this once,” his deep voice hissed. “Move out of my way.”

Saying nothing to him, she barred his path with her body. She was determined to get an answer to who had hurt him, before letting him past. Lowering her horn until it was nearly touching him, she looked at him, wishing she could take away his pain. Staring at her defiantly, he reached for her horn and held it with his hand. Reaching out with his other, he held her head still. She could feel his great anger directed at her, and wondered why he held so much rage for her. What had she done, to invoke his ire so?

Had she misspoken and offended him somehow? All these questions and many more entered her mind, but she had no answer. All she knew was that he hated her, nearly as much as the diamond dogs he’d slain all those centuries ago, and nothing she could do would change that. She felt the cold metal of his hand against her face, closed her eyes, and waited for him to strike the first blow. If it meant sparing her sister from his wrath, she would gladly suffer his rage. When his expected blows never came, she looked down at him with concern.

“Why have you done this to me?” he nearly shouted, as his voice echoed his anger towards her. “You offer me friendship on the one hand, yet betray me and hurt me every chance you get.”

“I only ever wished to be your friend,” she said, nuzzling his head.

"Then why did you do this?” he accused, nearly bowing over from the pain that wracked his body, as he hacked more black blood.

“Tell me who did this, Slave King,” she demanded, furious that somepony had harmed him, in an effort to poison their relationship.

“I almost believed you,” he whispered, coughing up more blood. “I almost believed her. That you both loved me.”

“We do, Slave King. We do,” she reassured him, as she frantically tried used her magic find the source of his wound.

“Even now, I can’t bear to hurt you,” he said, leaning against her for support. “To hurt you, like you hurt me. I wanted to hit you, but your damned kind eyes won’t allow me to!”

“Tell me who hurt you!” she begged, wanting to see justice done on his behalf.

“Luna did this to me,” he said, offering her the tired look of somepony who no longer cared.

“But she loves you! How could she possibly do this?” she asked, scarcely believing her gentle sister had it in her to harm another.

“My wife… No, I mean my assassin,” he derisively said. “Thought to slay me in the throes of our shared passion. She failed.”

“What are you going to do about it?” Celestia asked, worried about what he’d planned to do about Luna.

“Though I can’t bear to hurt you directly,” he said, coughing heavily. “For your treachery against me, when I pass Londwhinium will share the Diamond Vale’s fate.”

When she heard what he had planned for her little ponies, the cold knife of fear entered her heart. “Please, they’ve done no harm to you,” she pleaded. “Harm me if you must, but spare them your wrath.”

“I don’t have long now,” he panted, struggling to stay upright.

“Please spare them,” she begged once more, as her eyes filled with tears.

When he felt her tears fall against him, he was pricked with compassion. “Though it vexes me greatly to spare you the pain of loss,” he said, struggling to stay conscious. “For the sake of Clover and the last of the Gembiter Clan, I’ll spare them.”

“Now, leave me,” he said, collapsing to the ground beside her. “Leave me, so I can finally die in the peace denied me for so long.”

“Never,” she said, touching him with her horn. “You belong to us. You won't die, not today.”

When her horn touched his head, he gasped as he felt life flowing into him. As Celestia’s heart beat for him, he felt the great anger he held for her slowly ebbing away. He could feel the love she held for him and everyone one else, beating true inside him. It was a warm unconditional love that told him no matter what, she still cared for him. He found the feeling uncomfortable and nearly unbearable, pulling away from her horn, he found the feeling subside as did his new found strength.

“I suppose, I owe you an apology,” he said, standing up from the ground.

“All I ask, is that you accept my friendship, Slave King,” she said, embracing him tightly.

“You ask a hard thing,” he said, accepting her embrace but still refusing to fully trust her.

“I’m a patient mare,” she replied, kissing his cheek. “I can wait.”

“Sister, what dost thou think thou art doing with our husband!” an agitated Luna said from behind them.

“Luna, thank Equestria you’re alright!” Celestia said, breaking her embrace with the Slave King. When I saw what had happened to him, I feared the worst had happened.”

“Art thou alright, husband?” she asked, pawing the ground nervously.

Though he knew Celestia probably wasn’t responsible for his grievous wound, Luna was still a prime suspect. “Stay back, woman!” he demanded, reaching into his reserves to defend himself.

Luna felt his scornful glare, and shrunk back from him. “Please allow us to be near thee once more, husband,” she said, feeling her earlier tears threatening to return and stain her cheek once more.

“You must think me a fool, wife,” he hissed at her. “If you thought I would ever allow you near me again.”

“Stop this, Slave King,” Celestia implored, putting herself between them. “Luna is your wife. You found it in your heart to spare Londwhinium, give her a chance to explain herself.”

Though no longer connected to her, he felt the familial bond Celestia shared with her sister, and found his anger against her subsiding. “Very well Celestia,” he said, feeling fatigued once more. “In the interests of fairness, I’ll allow my wife an opportunity to explain herself.”

“Go on, Luna,” Celestia said, prodding her sister to defend herself. “Tell us what happened.”

“We know not what happened to thee, husband,” Luna admitted, lowering her ears and head submissively to the Slave King. “In truth, we art flummoxed why thou left our side in such haste. We know not, why thou suffer from this foul humour. But as thy wife, we desireth to nurse and dote upon thee, until thou return to us in good health.”

He gave Celestia a sidelong glance that said he was done listening to Luna’s sentimental tripe. As he moved to enter the Earth, she gave him another imploring look begging him to at least consider what she’d said. But as weak as he was, he hadn’t the strength left in him to fight over her sister’s innocence.

“What more will you demand of me, Celestia?” he said, sighing in resignation.

“Stay with your wife,” she said, gently pushing him towards Luna. “At least until we can prove or disprove her innocence in this matter.”

“You wish for me to stand beside my assassin?” he incredulously asked, unable to accept what she expected of him.

“Yes,” Celestia said, hoping to prove to him that her sister was no murderer.

When she heard them arguing over her presumed innocence or guilt, she felt her world crashing down all around her. He didn’t love her after all. In fact if not for her sister’s intervention, she was sure he’d demand her dragged before the pantheon for the summarily judged for her supposed crime. Lowering her head, she retreated inside the palace not wishing for anypony to see her tears.

All her hopes for a bright and cheery marriage with him were dashed to pieces. All she had to look forward to now, was a dark and dreary future marriage. Why won’t anypony love me? she thought to herself, as she silently wept.

I love you, Luna, the voice said.

Thou art a liar! she shouted in despair, knowing the voice was somehow responsible for her misery.

Yes, how could anypony love such a miserable creature as yourself? the voice said with a chuckle.

Thou beast! she raged, furious at being mocked so.

But the voice said nothing, choosing to remain silent as she gnashed her teeth in rage.

*****

Nightmare and Scourge arrived in the gardens together. Scourge was relieved to see that the Slave King was still standing, and was apparently discussing something with Celestia. He heard her whine, when he denied her desire to stand by her master’s side.

Looking at her, he shook his head. “Nightmare,” he said, gesturing towards their master. “If the Slave King needs us, we’re here. Until then, let him conduct his business with Celestia.”

She gave him a dark glare, but remained still. There would be time enough later to chastise the traitor, but for now she would stand by, fully prepared to see to her king’s needs.

She saw the Slave King arguing about something with one of the pony whores. The lighter one seemed to be imploring him to do something he didn’t wish to do. She felt her dander rise, how dare she try coercing him to suit her whims! Her master was his own hound, not some pup she could scold.

Then she saw her master’s new wife, and smiled with glee at her anguish. It serves her right for trying to steal him away from me! she decided, as her tail twitched to and fro. Though she greatly respected her master’s judgment, sometimes he was prone to making foolish decisions. Apparently, his marriage to the whore was one such choice. He didn’t need somehound that would weigh him down with her stupidity, like his pony wife seemed determined to. He deserved somehound far more worthy than any pony could ever hope to be, somehound fierce and loyal. Somehound like herself.

She was his first creation. In her chest, beat a heart of pure rage and power. A gift from her master. It bound her to him, and if wasn’t aware of it, he to her. You might even say, a sliver of his soul went into her creation. Though she wasn’t sure of all the peculiars and mechanics behind it, she was pretty sure that why she seemed to be ageless like the others he’d marked. Hounds like that fop of an arch duke, who she longed to once again tear into pieces. Or the traitor Scourge, whom she squarely placed the blame for all these troubles at his paws.

Returning her gaze towards her master and the pony whore who thought to control him, she narrowed her eyes when she recognized the female magic she was using on him. She angrily growled at the affront to his honor. Deity or not, goddess or not, she would regret manipulating her liege.

“Hold, Nightmare,” Scourge said, giving her a dour look. “Don’t embarrass him in front of his peers. He can fight his own battles.”

She scowled at the traitor for his foolish male naivety. He didn’t know how insidious female magic could be! An experienced bitch like that pony whore, could easily bend the Slave King to her will, if left unchallenged.

Scourge saw her trying to move forward, and knocked her hard with his paw. “The Slave King will fight his own battle here,” he said, giving her a hard look. “If he needs us, he will call.”

Nightmare wanted to rage, didn’t the traitor know what that pony whore was trying to do? Or maybe he did, and that’s why he wished to stop her from saving their master from the sly bitch’s trickery. Every instinct commanded her to come to his side, she could no longer ignore them.

Leaping forward and escaping Scourge’s great paws, Nightmare ran towards her master. She could see the pony whore’s eyes looking at her warily. Scowling once, she took her rightful place at her king’s side, which nohound could ever steal from her. Especially not his unworthy pony wife.

Presenting herself to him, she bowed low to the Slave King, before offering the pony whore a low growl, letting her know she wasn’t welcome here.

Moments later Scourge bounded over to join them. Like Nightmare, he bowed low in respect, once to the Slave King and once again to Celestia. “My apologies, Slave King,” he said, displeased she’d disobeyed. “Nightmare refused to wait for your call.”

“Scourge, a good servant knows when to come, even if they’re not called,” he said, rebuking him for his earlier failure.

“I understand, my king,” he said, bowing once more. “Shall I take my leave?”

“No, Scourge, both Nightmare and yourself may stay,” he said, leaning against Celestia as he tried to keep his balance.

“Are you alright, Slave King?” he asked, the concern for his friend’s wellbeing etched into his muzzle.

“No, I’m afraid not, Scourge,” he said, wheezing and coughing. “I’m dying, it’s only due to Celestia’s intervention that I still live.”

When she heard his revelation, Nightmare cast a scathing look at Scourge. See! her eyes screamed at him, castigating him for his treachery. You did this to him, when you sided against him with this pony whore!

Whether Celestia understood all that Nightmare said, she didn’t say. But she did offer Scourge a look of sympathy. “No, this is nopony’s fault,” she said. “The magic binding the Slave King to his divinity seems to be interrupted somehow. In the meantime, I’m sharing mine with him.”

“Can anything be done?” Scourge asked.

“I’m not sure,” she said, worried for both him and her sister. “We need to find a spark of his original divinity. Hopefully that will reignite his own.”

“Where can we find one?” he asked, hoping she might have the answer.

“Truthfully, I’m not sure,” Celestia said. “Perhaps his heart, or the fang he used to remove it might work. Even his crown might be suitable. Generally a deity’s first few creations contain the imprint of their divine spark.”

“The fang was used in The Vendetta’s creation, and as for my crown…” the Slave King said. “I forged it with fire, and shaped it with a hammer. Beyond collecting the materials, its creation was rather mundane.”

“Then we must retrieve his heart,” Scourge said, preparing to make the journey to the Well of Eternity to retrieve it.

Holding up his hand wearily, the Slave King stopped him. “I don’t think there’s any point in going there,” he said, coughing heavily. “I can no longer feel it beating within the well.”

Celestia frowned, unhappy she had no alternative options to offer him. “I’ll continue lending you my strength, until we come up with an alternate solution,” she said, knowing she’d only be able to offer her strength for a little while longer, before the strain became too great for her to bear.

“What about your wife, Slave King,” Scourge suggested. “Luna and you share an elemental connection, and her renewal was only a season ago.”

“No,” he said, a little too soon for Scourge’s liking.

Suddenly Scourge had an idea. “How about me?” he asked. “I was the first of your doomhounds. You made almost immediately after the Diamond Vale’s destruction.”

Celestia laid her horn against him, and shook her head. “I’m afraid you won’t do,” she said disappointed it didn’t work. “His spark was in your body, and it’s long since passed.”

Nightmare’s ears perked as they spoke. She knew exactly where the needed spark was, but didn’t trust the pony whore with the knowledge. Growling and whining at Scourge, she directed his attention to her.

Scourge noticed her whines, and looked at her inquisitively. “What is it, Nightmare?” he asked.

Traitor, we should speak alone, she said, lowering her head near his.

Nodding his assent, he turned back towards Celestia and the Slave King. “Nightmare wishes to discuss something with me in private,” he said, waiting to be excused.

“Very well, Scourge,” the Slave King said, shaking slightly as his reserves ebbed away.

The two of them walked together deeper into the garden, away from their master and Celestia. “So what is it?” Scourge asked, cutting straight to the chase.

I know where a piece of our master’s divine spark can be found, she said, offering him a smug smile.

“Then tell me,” he said, feeling hope for his master’s condition.

Inside me, she said. I am his first creation.

“Of course!” he excitedly said. “Come, let’s tell the Slave King the good news.”

No, she stubbornly said, narrowing her eyes at him.

“You’ll come of your own free will,” he said, baring his teeth at her. “Or I’ll knock you down, and carry you back in my maw like a disobedient pup.”

I’m not going anywhere, not until he agrees to get rid of those pony whores! she demanded.

“And if he should call you to his side, then what will you do?” he asked her.

Laying her ears down dejectedly, sullenly she lowered her head. I’ll come, she agreed, knowing she could never refuse her king’s command.

“I’ll not mention your rebellion to him,” Scourge said, walking beside her.

Returning to him together, they hoped the spark she carried within would be the key to saving their master’s life.

*****

It was late, and she was wet, cold, and tired, not to mention her dress was probably ruined as well. Opening her eyes, she was surprised to find she was neither wet, cold, nor tired. In fact she was… Wait she didn’t even know where she was. It looked like some sort of cozy cave.

Getting up from the soft bed she’d been laying on, she stood up and examined her surroundings. Examining the walls, she saw they seemed to be smooth to the touch. Along the walls at regular intervals were lanterns unlike any she’d ever seen before. As a denizen of the Domain of Earth, she was familiar with all the lighting technology they used, and these lanterns were lit by unknown means.

Looking down the tunnel, she felt compelled to head deeper inside. She didn’t know why, but it just felt right, like she was meant to go this way. Following the passageway, she stopped right as the tunnel opened up into a much larger room. What she saw amazed her. Bookcases in orderly lines, containing books of all kinds, ran as far as the eye could see, and looking up she doubted she could fly high enough to reach the top shelves.

Approaching the nearest bookcase, she reached out, and picked up the first book she saw. Holding it in her hands, she found it light to the touch and had almost no weight to speak of. Examining the cover and binding, she saw embossed in an unknown language a title she couldn’t hope to understand. Opening up the book, and leafing through its pages, she found the same alien language before her.

“Ah, that one’s called, ‘The Jungle Book’, it’s a novel by Rudyard Kipling,” a voice explained. “A personal favorite of mine. A shame you can’t read it, it’s written in your father’s native tongue.”

“My father?” she asked, placing the book back on the shelf. “Who are you, and what do you know about my father?”

“More than most, Melody, and I’m afraid not as much as I’d like,” the voice said, with a slight chuckle. “Come child, join me by the fire. The Library of Eternity can get quite drafty sometimes.”

Walking towards the voice, she spent what felt like hours navigating the labyrinth of never ending book cases. All the while, the voice would tease her with snippets of information about her father.

“So how do you know him so well?” Melody asked, amazed the voice’s owner knew so much about him.

“I met him once in a dream during my travels, in the world beyond this one, though he doesn’t recall,” the voice said. “He didn’t seem all that remarkable at the time, but the powers that be had a completely different appraisal of his worth. Eventually agreements were reached with management, and he was brought into Equestria.”

“Whoa,” she said, amazed by the story. She’d often wondered where the land of the wayfarers was, but had never expected it to be another world altogether.

“But enough about your father,” the voice said. “I didn’t bring you all the way here to talk about him. Well… I did, but not to reminisce about the past. We’re here to talk about the present and the immediate future.”

“So where are you?” she asked, starting to tire from her lengthy walk.

“Right where you began,” the voice said from behind her. “You certainly have your father’s smile, but I think you inherited your feathers from your mother’s side.”

Turning around, she saw a massive blue serpent coiled near a burning fire. Through half lidded eyes, he looked down on her and smiled.

“You’re Jormungandr, aren’t you?” she asked, scarcely believing she was standing before the elusive father of serpents.

“Guilty as charged, my dear,” he said, bowing his head slightly. “Now my apologies for earlier, the rules have changed, and I’m no longer allowed to directly interfere in the game.”

“The game? What game is that?” she asked, wondering what he meant.

“A rather tiresome game between myself and a mutual acquaintance of your father and me,” he explained, flicking out his forked tongue. “Now, without getting into too many details, because my esteemed opponent has been blatantly cheating of late, I’m finally allowed to give you some help.”

“Was that you in the aqueduct?” she wondered.

“Yes it was,” he said, admitting his part. “And incidentally, Melody, good job on keeping the elements away from the changeling.”

“You mean the stones?” she said, remembering the six stones it had tried stealing.

“Those stones, as you so eloquently call them, are the Elements of Harmony,” Jormungandr said, summoning an illusion of the elements above her head. “They were instrumental in the creation of our world, and maintaining the balance between the domains of Equestria. They must be found and returned to your father, before the summer solstice. Or he, and all Equestria will suffer unceasing torment.”

“But they were swept away by the current!” Melody said, unsure how she could possibly find them. “How can I possibly find them in time?”

“Find the bearers, and the elements will find you,” he said, offering her a smile.

“That’s not much help,” Melody complained, annoyed she’d be forced to trek across all creation to find the six stones.

“I wish I could offer more help, but the rules are rather strict in that regard,” he apologized.

“Well I guess it can’t be helped,” she said, before looking at him slyly. “Maybe you might want to talk to yourself as I browse through your books. I promise not to eavesdrop.”

“Ha, ha, ha,” the Winding One chuckled. “Very well, here’s the last hint I can offer you. Where once there were seven, only one remains. Ask him wisely, and he shall point the way.”

“Thank you, Jormungandr,” she said, lightly kissing his nose.

The Winding One blushed lightly, before closing his eyes once more. “One last thing, Melody,” he said, yawning widely. “Tell him I’m sorry that I couldn’t be there when he needed me most.”

Suddenly feeling exhausted herself, Melody yawned as well, and laid against Jormungandr’s vibrant blue scales. “All right, I will,” she yawned, before nodding off to sleep.

*****

He sat between the two obstinate females and sighed. This was his punishment for all his misdeeds, he was sure of it. Neither was willing to give an inch. Not even Celestia’s pleading would move either of them. For Nightmare’s part, she was demanding her place on the bed regardless whether or not his wife was occupying it. And Luna was unwilling to accept the demands. It was enough to make him wish he’d succumbed to the vile curse that had afflicted him. In the end to secure their cooperation, he had to promise both stubborn women things he’d rather not think about.

But he supposed that was a problem for another day. For now, he needed to worry about his spark reigniting his divine flame. In the end, both Luna and Nightmare had agreed to do their part in healing him. Nightmare possessed the divine spark that Celestia hoped would save his life, while Luna was providing the divinity he needed to preserve his slowly dying magical essence.

As they prepared to perform the spell, he felt Celestia withdraw her divinity from him, as Luna took over. Once the transfer was complete, he could tell the difference. Where Celestia felt like a warm quilt, his wife’s divinity seemed more like silken sheets. And though he still felt angry towards her for this whole mess, he couldn’t help but feel the unfulfilled hunger they both felt before he’d been struck down by the wicked curse.

“Is everypony ready?” Celestia asked, drawing her magic into her horn.

“Verily, sister,” Luna said, offering the Slave King a warm smile, though he could see she was struggling under the strain of sharing her divinity with him.

Nightmare only glowered at her, before nodding that she too was ready. Scowling once at Luna, her tail twitched derisively at her mistress. However, a sharp look from the Slave King quickly put a stop to her moodiness. After receiving his rebuke, she sighed and agreed to behave herself.

“I’m ready, Celestia,” the Slave King said, hoping this would work. Already he was having trouble standing, and his mind was starting to become nebulous.

Celestia’s eyes filled with power as she released her spell. Magical eldritch energies left her horn and swirled around both the Slave King and Nightmare. Luna looked on in fascination, as her husband and their servant seemed to meld together into a singular being. The smell of ozone and baking earth filled the air, while a pillar of magical green flame exploded where the two stood as one. Then as quickly as it began, they separated and returned to their original positions. When Celestia’s spell left them, both Nightmare and the Slave King collapsed to the ground.

“Slave King, are you all right?” Celestia asked, concerned for his welfare. “Did it work?”

He groaned once, and took in several deep breaths. For the first time in hours, he was able to breathe freely once more. Though he still shook like a newborn kitten as he tried standing up, he offered her a weary look. “I think it did, Celestia,” he said, looking down at his hands. “But I’m still so weak. I’ll never be able to hold onto my domain this way.”

“Worry not, beloved,” Luna said, using her magic and placing him on her back. “We shall stand as warden over thy domain for thee, until thou hast strength enough to do so on thy own.”

He felt weak and helpless, and the Slave King hated it. He was utterly at Luna’s mercy now, and there was little he could do to stop her, if she decided to radically alter how he ran things. Weakly reaching his hand towards Nightmare, he gently stroked her head. “Thank you,” he said, as she basked in the pleasure his fingers offered. “Scourge, see to her needs.”

“Yes, Slave King,” he agreed, placing her on his back.

“Come, husband,” Luna said, keeping him on her back, with her magic. “Thou needeth thy bed rest and breakfast.”

“When might I expect you back in Londwhinium, Luna,” Celestia asked, worried that the South would take her sister away from her duties in her own domain.

“We cans’t raise our moon wheresoever we desire,” Luna said, looking up at the night sky. “We shalt hold court here, beside our husband’s throne. If our subjects desireth an audience, they may beseech us there.”

“But, Luna, we have a responsibility to be there when they need us,” Celestia objected, unhappy with her sister’s plans.

“So few of our subjects petition us most nights, we feel none shalt notice our absence,” she said, tightening her mouth as she thought of their beloved ponies’ collective rejection of her.

“That’s not true, and you know it, Luna!” Celestia protested, trying to reassure her sister that she was just as beloved by their subjects as she.

“Thou knowest better than to lie to us, sister,” Luna huffed, annoyed that she sought to sugar coat the harsh reality of what most ponies thought of her. She was the afterthought, the ancillary princess, the boogedy mare who hid under the bed, waiting to punish all the naughty foals who refused to go to bed on time. Unlike her sister, she was rarely celebrated and hardly ever thanked, and few bothered attending her winter moon festival beyond the few nobles who were unable to climb the social ladder any other way.

“Please, Luna, reconsider this,” Celestia implored, wishing her sister knew how much everypony loved her.

“Our husband is fatigued,” she said, deciding to end any further discussion. “We shalt send for our things later.”

As she watched her carrying the Slave King away on her back, Celestia felt a tiny wedge pulling her apart from her sister. Though it had been her idea all along, now she felt slightly jealous that the Slave King would have her sister all to himself. Though she was originally worried that her sister would have her work cut out for her in taming him, now that he was barely able to stand, he would have to depend on her for most things. Though it grieved her to see him struck down like that, she felt the end result was just what they both needed.

He needed to learn to open his heart to others, and she needed someone to love. It was a perfect match. But then she thought about what had happened to him, and frowned. Who could have done this to the Slave King of all ponies? She’d thought him nearly invulnerable in the heart of his own domain, and his heart was supposedly safe inside the Well of Eternity. There should’ve been nothing that could have harmed him there. This was troubling, she needed to speak with the only one wise enough to know the answer. Jormungandr. But he was in a self-imposed exile, and was nowhere to be found. She would have to greatly ponder things, as she conducted her investigation to prove her sister’s innocence.

Turning towards the receding night, she prepared to raise the sun, and then make the long trek home, this time alone.

*****

He laid in his bed, quite unable to move, as his wife ran a sponge along his body, as she attempted cleaning him up. He found such an intimate activity slightly off putting, but given they were married now he couldn’t really complain. As she moved him about with her magic, he simply grinned and bore it. He saw how happy she was like this, and ground his teeth. He was no doll to be played with, but for his lack of strength he may as well been. He was completely at her mercy, as her magic cradled and held him like a delicate egg, which could be crushed at any given moment. He didn’t like it, feeling so weak and vulnerable, but what could he do?

“Thou art clean now, my love,” his wife cooed into his ear, as she lightly kissed him.

“Wouldn’t it be better to have my servants tend to me?” he asked, hoping to dissuade her from continuing her care for him. “This is beneath a woman of your station.”

“Nay, husband,” she said, shocked that he would even consider such a thing. “None other shalt touch thee. We shalt prove our devotion to thee, then thou shalt know of our love and pure intent for thee.”

He rolled his eyes, she still thought he’d want anything to do with her after what happened. As far as he was concerned, she was the cause of his suffering, and all the redress in Equestria wouldn’t change a thing. His wife was not to be trusted. “Wife,” he said, hoping to make her aware of his feelings on the matter. “You think to win my heart, with your service. Let me disabuse you of that notion. Nothing you do or say, will ever make me love you.”

Once the words had left his lips, he felt the magic cradling his head disappear, causing his head to knock against his headboard with a thunk. Looking at him with her turquoise eyes, Luna’s eyes contained a fury he was well acquainted with. He’d seen it many times in Nightmare’s eyes, as well as Lady Zephyr and Lady Suzaku. They were the eyes of someone possessed with intense feminine anger. Though lesser men might have been cowed into submission, he’d not run the most treacherous domain for over five hundred years possessing a faint heart.

“Well, what are you waiting for, wife?” he demanded, staring into her eyes. “I’m at your mercy now, strike me down. No one can stop you.”

When she heard his harsh words, her eyes softened as she wept. “We love thee, cans’t thou not feel it?” she implored, placing his hand against the beating heart in her chest. “We shalt be patient for thee, husband. Thou art worth the wait.”

“Humph,” he grunted, unwilling to believe anymore of her lies. When she laid down beside him, he narrowed his eyes, and glared at her with disapproval. “Wife, what do you think you’re doing?”

“We art fatigued and weary, worrying over thee, husband,” she replied, kissing him gently and dimming the lights. “We promised to remain at thy side until the end.”

“You’ll have to find someplace else to sleep, wife,” he said, looking as sternly as he could at her. Unfortunately for the Slave King, he lacked the strength to raise his arm to point towards the exit, and so his demand was somewhat lacking its usual authoritative aura.

“Nay, husband, all thy domain is ours to share with thee, including thy bed,” she brashly said, snuggling up against him. “Besides, dost thou not always say in the South, thou taketh whatsoever thou desireth?”

“Wife, with my right hand I’ve rent the Earth in twain, and with my left I’ve broken cities,” he said, displeased she was treating him like a weak child that needed coddling. “With a mere utterance from my lips, I could raise a mountain. Do not trifle with me, woman.”

She opened her eyes, and gently nuzzled against him. Using her magic, she moved his hands. “Husband, with thy left hand thou caresseth us, and with thy right thou hold’st us,” she said, moving his arms as she spoke. “And with thy lips, dost we kiss thee.”

As he felt her lips press against his, he wanted to protest against the great injustice that had been foisted upon him. Here he was being played like a puppet for his wife’s amusement, and he didn’t even have the strength to reject her advances. He saw the mischievous twinkle in her eye, and could tell she enjoyed teasing him. He only wished that he found the experience as enjoyable as she apparently was.

He was a prime element, the Lord of Earth, the feared Slave King, and now he was stuck in his bed as an invalid. Married against his will to a woman he didn’t love, and everyone expected him to somehow change overnight. He almost wished he was stuck in Lord Ouroboros’s clutches instead, at least then he’d know what to do with himself. He knew how to handle violence. But with her, he had no idea what he should do.

Though the time he’d spent with Lady Zephyr and Lady Suzaku were superficially similar to his marriage to Luna, those relationships, consisted solely of a simple exchange of knowledge, for their pleasure. With his wife, it seemed she wanted something completely different, himself. Something he was unwilling to give her. Though he’d briefly considered it, his injury had shown him the folly of that idea.

Sharing his bed and lying beside her in the darkness, he wondered how it had come to this. Looking at his wife, he saw she wasn’t asleep yet. For some odd reason she’d decided to stare at him. “What is it?” he irritably asked, finding her attention altogether unsettling.

“What art thou thinking of, beloved?” she asked, moving closer to him.

Somehow he knew that being told that he wished they had just let him die, wouldn’t go over very well with her. “I’m pondering my… I mean our future together,” he said, offering her a white lie, when he saw her expectant look.

When she heard him say that his thoughts were consumed by her, she smiled. “Pray tell, husband,” she said, enjoying their pillow talk. “What omens dost thy clairvoyance foresee?”

What, beyond waking up to you looking down at me, and asking, do you love me yet? He bitterly thought. “I don’t know about any omens, but we still have to assign the garrison commander for Bone’s Landing. Plus, I have to go to the manufactorium to look over the damage to the Devastation with Ignatius, and I’m pretty sure the citizens of Neo Vale will want to pay their respects to their new mistress as well.”

“Truly, thy subjects woulds’t desire to meet us?” she asked, surprised that nonponies would care for her.

Yawning deeply, he nodded his head as much as he was able. “I’m sure most will be ponies begging for their freedom,” he said, trying to sleep. “But I’m sure some diamond dogs will wish to meet with you. There’s a small cult of them dedicated to the moon after all.”

The moment he’d mentioned the cult of moon worshipers, he immediately regretted it. Her eyes lit up with excitement, at the thought of somepony worshiping her moon. From that moment on, all she did was badger him with questions about the miniscule sect. She wanted to know everything, and all he wanted was some sleep.

“How opulent is our temple, husband?” she asked, dying with curiosity.

“I have no idea,” he murmured, desperately wishing he could ignore her prattling. “If you really want to know, have Melody take you on a tour of the city.”

“We shall,” she said, bursting with excitement to see the city and the cult. “Good night, husband.”

“Good night, wife,” he yawned, as sleep finally began overtaking him.

“We love thee, beloved,” she said, hoping to illicit a similar response from him.

“Sleep well,” he grunted, closing his eyes and becoming dead to the world.

*****

The dragon was resting lazily on his hoard as he snacked on a handful of gemstones. The fire roaring in corner, reflected dully off his vibrant blue and red scales. This decade had been unremarkable so far, and he was considering going into torpor for a century or so, in the hope that things would be more interesting when he woke up. Deciding that he wanted to look at his treasures again, he reached for an iron chest tucked away in a corner, and opened the lid. Inside it contained an assortment of odds and ends.

The first thing he pulled out was a well-worn, wide brimmed, grey felt hat that had a brass emblem attached to its peak. Examining the emblem, he saw the mark of the Gembiter Clan on one side and the name Shanks on the reverse. Gingerly holding it in his claws, he smiled as he thought of its former owner, a rather clever and magically gifted blue unicorn and his diamond dog friend. He fondly remembered the many long nights they’d spent discussing magical lore over the years. Though magic was never his forte, he’d often enjoyed collecting and adding magical artifacts to his ever increasing hoard with them.

Placing the hat aside, he reached in and pulled out another of his treasures, a pair of untarnished tokens of the Lawgiver. Though these silvery tokens usually lost their shine when their owners passed, these two shone as brightly as the day he’d been bequeathed them. Though the tokens were usually buried with their owners, Lord Triton had assured him their respective owners were in no danger of being denied entrance to his citadel in the next life. He was the third to possess the tokens, and judging by their luster the previous owners were happy enough in the afterlife.

Putting aside the pair of tokens, he removed a golden bridle. Though it seemed no different from the bridles one might find in any upscale Londwhinium clothier’s shop, this one was rather special. It was a bridle of peace, an artifact so rare that most had no idea what they were used for. Bridles of peace were once used by griffons to control windigos. This one in particular had an interesting history, it had once belonged to the fastest griffin to ever live. So fast, he was the source behind the legend of the sonic rainboom. Even in his later years, he was still faster than most others.

Placing the bridle beside the other items, he reached in and pulled out a deck of well used playing cards. The back of each displayed a pair of masks, one smiling and the other frowning, just like her cutie mark. Removing them from their case, he began dealing a claw of cards to play against himself. Looking at his cards, he smiled when he saw that he had a full house. But when he revealed her claw, he smirked when he saw she’d gotten a royal flush.

“Even in the Summerlands you’re still cheating at cards, eh Showboat?” he said, dealing himself another hand.

After his third loss, he put the cards away. Reminiscing was fun at first, but playing against a card cheat did get tiresome after a while. Returning his treasures back to their place inside the chest, he was about to curl up on his hoard and enjoy a yearlong nap, when somescale entered his cave. Narrowing his eyes in annoyance, he was sure it was those fledgling punks again. They always loved pranking him and stealing his gemstones.

“Damn whelps,” he grumbled. “Punks haven’t even hit a century yet, and they think they can do whatever they want.”

Testing his fire, he expelled a small jet of flame. “Hot damn, I still got it,” he said with a smirk. Stalking into the shadows, he prepared to give those whelps a sound thrashing, before sending them packing. Spying the intruder’s lengthy shadow, he flexed his wings as he prepared to pounce on them.

However when he saw who it was, he gave them a flat look. “I was trying to sleep you know,” he deadpanned, trying to hide his smile. “Come on in, I’ll brew us some tea.”

A good forty minutes later, the dragon and his guest were enjoying the tea he’d prepared. “So tell me, what brings you all the way out here?” he asked, curious why they’d came all this way without sending him a letter first. When he heard the reason for his friend’s journey, he nodded thoughtfully. “So it’s time for that is it? I guess I’ve got one more adventure in me, before I need to sleep.”

Extending his claw, he reaffirmed the pact that he’d entered all those centuries ago. Listening to their concerns, he raised up his claw. “Yes, I understand,” he said, as he rolled his eyes. “I remember the rules, though I think it’s unfair he gets to cheat whenever it pleases him, and we’re always stuck following the rules. It doesn’t take a condragon to know a raw deal when you see one.”

When they started reminding him of the agreement, he sighed. “Fine, fine, fine…” he said in defeat. “Alright already, I promise to play by the rules. Sheesh.”

Satisfied that the dragon would uphold his end of things, his guest left as quickly as he came.

Looking back towards the chest containing his treasures, he grinned. “I wonder who he managed to rope in this time?” he said, chuckling to himself as he prepared to depart for places unknown.

Author's Note

Thank you gentlereader for reading chapter 19 of The Book of Water: The Marriage of the Slave King, as always comments are appreciated. Expect the epilogue sometime tomorrow, with two addendums to follow.

Here we see, Bazzt Zzzt making his play for the Elements of Harmony and failing to achieve his objective, his new master will not be pleased, though Second might look on in amusement at his punishment. We fins Dame Squall, Chrysalis, Harmony, and Gunhilde all played a part in stopping the would be thief, I wonder if this signifies more adventures in store for them in the future? And after spending nearly the entire book in absentia, Jormungandr, the Watcher has revealed himself. I wonder how the game is going to be played now that he's taking a much more active role in things.Celestia and the Slave King seemed to have patched things up once again, but we can only wonder for how long.

It seems that the Slave King's ailment was much worse then anyone realized. However due to fortuitous circumstances, Celestia was able to offer him an alternative to dying. Using the divine spark used in Nightmare's creation, she was seemingly able to reignite his divine spark. Though I wonder if the spell used to merge them, could be used for other things. And poor Luna, it seems no matter what she does, she just can't win. First as the prime suspect in her husband's attempted murder, and now being forced to deal with the Slave King being bedridden. Though judging by how she teases him, she seems to be taking it in stride. And what is the identity of the mysterious dragon with a penchant for gambling?

Find out the answers to these questions and more, in the second story arc of The Book of Water: The Heart of Winter, coming to a computer sometime soon!

Once again gentlereader, thank you for reading and all your kind words and support. You make writing worthwhile. Until next time!

Intermission

The Book of Water: The Marriage of the Slave King

A Story by TalonMach5

Intermission

The fire warming them had become slowly dying coals that glowed dimly in the dark night, while the luminous moon overhead was being threatened by the approaching dawn. Wrapped snugly in the folds of his cloak, the tiny filly had fallen asleep hours ago, while his unicorn guest yawned heavily at his feet. His burning eyes considered her carefully as he stood up, and added more wood to the dying fire. Placing a few logs atop the glowing coals, he knelt down and breathed life back into the flames, as the starving fire greedily devoured the wood. Satisfied that the fire would burn a little while longer, he returned to his seat beside his daughter, pulled out a flask from his satchel, and drinking from it deeply. Sitting in silence, he poked the fire with a stick.

His guest looked at him impatiently as he said nothing. “Well?” she softly said, so as not to wake Little Bleu.

“Well what?” he replied, not paying her any mind.

She was unsure what to say, on the one hoof he was quite fearsome, and she didn’t want to offend him. But on the other hoof, she had to know what happened next. “Surely, that can’t be the end of the story?” she asked, hoping that he would continue telling his tale.

“Why not?” he said, poking at the coals as the blue smoke from their shared campfire rose above their heads. “It’s my story. I started it, and I ended it.”

“But what about the ending?” she whined. “The Great and Powerful Trixie, must know what happened to everypony.”

“They mostly died,” he said, stroking his beard absentmindedly.

“But Princess Celestia raises the sun every morning, and the moon every night,” she said, objecting to his tacked on ending.

“She raises the moon does she?” he said, with a hint of skepticism in his voice. “Well not everyone died, there were a few notable exceptions.”

“Trixie, must know how the story ends!” she said, nearly begging him to agree to finish recounting his story.

“Hmm,” he mused, looking into the flames once more.

She wracked her mind, trying to figure out some way to convince him to finish telling the story. With such knowledge at her disposal, she could easily revitalize her struggling career as an entertainer. “Trixie wishes to travel with you,” she said, hoping to hear the remainder of the story later.

“That’s out of the question,” he replied, giving her a dour look. “Where I’m headed, isn’t fit for ponies.”

“But what about your daughter?” she asked, pointing her hoof at the sleeping filly. “Surely if it’s safe enough for her, it’ll prove no problem for The Great and Powerful Trixie. Trixie has vanquished the dreaded Ursa Major after all.”

When he heard her boastful claim, he released a deep chuckle. “Little pony, leave this place,” he said, pointing towards the thicket. “Tartarus knows what’ll happen, if she ever got her hooves ahold of you.”

“Who is it?” Trixie asked with morbid curiosity.

“None of your concern, pony,” he replied, placing a hand protectively on the foal sleeping beside him.

Trixie saw a flicker of fear reflected in his eyes, and felt unsettled. What could ever make a being like this feel fear, surely his power rivaled Celestia’s? But a desire to hear the rest of his story beckoned to her, and she made her choice. “You need somepony to watch after Little Bleu,” she pointed out, hoping to appeal to his parental instincts.

When he heard her offer, he glanced at her for a moment before returning his gaze to the flames burning before him. “What makes you think, I’d trust you with her safety?” he retorted, taking another drink from his flask.

“Trixie thinks you have few other options,” she replied, looking up at him hopefully.

Standing up, he walked towards her, knelt down, and looked her dead in the eye. “My daughter is all I have left of her,” he said, staring into her soul with his flaming green eyes. “Should anything happen to her…”

When she heard him speak, he sounded like a stallion whose reason for being was held aloft by a single thread, and that thread happened to be his daughter. In his eyes there was a desperation that simultaneously filled her with both pity and terror. Pity for the fear that seemed to grip him regarding her safety, and terror for what he might do if something happened to her.

“Trixie… Uh, I mean, I understand,” she stammered, nervously backing away from him.

Standing up, he stroked his beard, and turned to watch his sleeping daughter. “I hope for your sake that you do,” he said, balling his metal hand into a fist. “You may accompany us if you choose. And you must swear to obey me in all things during our travels together.”

“Trixie swears it,” she said, pleased that she was being allowed to join him on his travels.

“Very well,” he said, picking up the sleeping foal, and carrying her in his arm. Looking towards the setting moon, his eyes flared, extinguishing the fire. “The dawn is upon us, we’re leaving.”

When she saw him walking towards the bramble thicket, she shivered, afraid of the timberwolves that were probably lying in wait. Sensing her hesitation, he frowned at her. “Trixie was nearly eaten by timberwolves before finding your fire,” she confessed, feeling trepidation about leaving the relative safety of thicket behind.

“Traveling with me, you have nothing to fear from the forest,” he told her, as he approached the massive brambles blocking their path.

“Trixie entered through here,” she said, pointing a hoof towards a small opening between the thorny vines of the thicket. “Trixie does not know if you will fit.”

He gave her an annoyed look suggesting that he thought her suggestion was absurd. Instead, he walked right into where the thicket was the thickest. Her eyes went wide when she saw the brambles part for him, as if he was walking through water. Turning towards her, he gestured that she follow after him. Once they had left the brambles behind them, her eyes went wide with fear when she saw the glowing green eyes of dozens of timberwolves glaring at her from the dense underbrush of the forest.

When he saw her panicked expression, he stood in front of her. Behind his scarred and muscled legs, and bare feet, she felt safe and protected. She didn’t know why, but the fear she’d felt earlier was slipping away. He strode forward, placing one foot in front of the other, paying no mind to the great beasts on either side of them. Neither he nor the timberwolves made a whisper, only the sounds of the leaves crunching beneath her hooves could be heard.

By now they were a good distance away from the safety of the thicket, and the timberwolves had surrounded them. Had she been alone, she was sure that she would’ve been devoured almost immediately. However, they seemed to be paying her little if any heed. Instead, every pair of eyes were trained on the wayfarer guiding her path. She wondered what sort of creature he was, who so easily tamed the ferocious wild beasts of the Everfree forest. But before she could ponder the question further, she saw him stop, as if he were waiting for something or somepony.

She felt the ground shaking beneath her hooves, and huddled under his legs and cloak in fear at what she saw. Breaking through the towering foliage and canopy of the forest, was what had to be the largest timberwolf in existence. Entire trees had been bound and twisted together to make its great legs, and it seemed as if its body was made from enough wood to construct nearly a dozen villages. She stood stock still, as she breathed hard in either fear or anticipation, while wrinkling her nose in displeasure at the foul stench of its rotting swamp breath.

The towering giant walked towards them, lowered its head, and breathed in their scents heavily. After a minute, the massive timberwolf lowered its head to the wayfarer as a token of respect.

He bowed his head slightly in return, and reached out to touch the timberwolf with his metal hand. “My apologies for my absence these past few decades, Fenris,” he said, patting its massive wooden muzzle. “But I had to prepare for her return.”

Fenris let out a low growl, and looked down at Trixie questioningly. But the wayfarer shook his head.

“She has the Earth’s protection, Fenris,” he said, looking at the dozens of timberwolves that had surrounded them. “I trust your children will remember that in their hunting.”

She thought she could almost make out a smile on the great timberwolf’s wooden maw, as she saw Fenris looking down at them.

“You’re correct,” he said. “The long night is nearly upon us. She’ll return to us on the eve of the Summer Solstice.”

Fenris gave him a hard expectant look. When he didn’t respond, the wayfarer returned his hardened look with a steely look of his own.

“You’re free to choose your own side, Fenris,” he said, looking down at Little Bleu who was sleeping peacefully in his arms. “I’ll not fault you for looking out for the interests of you and yours. But she’s family, and I won’t abandon her a second time.”

Fenris whined, as he pawed the earth beneath his wooden paw. The other timberwolves sensing their sire’s agitation, whimpered sympathetically.

“You needn’t worry for their safety, Fenris,” he said, wearing a wry smile. “The Earth remembers its own, and is generous to those who have been faithful. Whatever happens in two days, I promise that you and your kin will be protected from her wrath.”

The aged patriarch of the timberwolves shook his head appreciatively, before bowing his head once more in respect.

“Thank you, Fenris,” he replied, looking up at the setting moon and the dark silhouette of a mare’s head gracing its surface. “Tartarus knows I’ve missed her badly.”

Looking up at the moon, Fenris pulled back his head and released a deep howl that shook the earth. In response to their elder’s call, each timberwolf in turn released a howl of its own.

“I’ll give her your regards, when I see her next,” he said, as Fenris and his kin retreated into the dense thicket surrounding them. Within minutes the ancient forest had swallowed them whole, making them disappear from sight.

Once Fenris and all his timberwolves had melted into the foliage to head for paths unknown, Trixie looked up at Little Bleu’s father in amazement. Who was this wayfarer, that he could converse with such a creature and command its respect? Though tales had long been told of Fenris, the wild spirit of the Everfree Forest, she’d always thought them nothing but old mare’s tales. But having seen the spirit with her own eyes, she’d become a believer and wondered how many of the other old stories were true as well.

As she pondered those thoughts, she began recognizing some of her surroundings. Several of the trees looked very familiar to her. When they walked past a large clump of bushes, she discovered why. Stuck deep inside a mud pit, was her caravan.

“Your wagon seems to be rather stuck,” he nonchalantly said, pointing towards her rear axle.

“Trixie was unable to pull it free by herself,” she said, looking up at him hopefully. “Would you assist Trixie in freeing her caravan?”

“Yes, I will,” he said, placing his sleeping daughter on the ground. “Little Bleu is a good filly, and hasn’t complained once about our journey. But I know she’d enjoy riding the rest of the way to our destination.”

Then before she could offer to pull out her winch and chain, she looked on in amazement as he picked up the large caravan with his bare hands. She was surprised when she saw that he wasn’t even breaking a sweat, or straining under its weight. Holding it against his chest, he carried the caravan away from the mud pit and moved it to the road, as if it were nothing more than an empty barrel of cider. She didn’t know what to say, what might have taken at least four strong stallions a good fifteen minutes to free, had taken him less than a minute to lift out of the mud and move to the side of the road.

Looking down at Little Bleu, Trixie was amazed the filly was still asleep. Even the bone chilling howls of the timberwolves had failed waking her. Her father looked down at her fondly, before picking her up and placing her inside the caravan. Turning to look at Trixie, he motioned with his metal hand for her to enter as well.

She looked at him questioningly, he was much too large to fit inside. Seeing her look of concern, he shook his head. “I shall walk,” he said, stroking his greying beard thoughtfully.

Climbing inside the caravan, she stepped carefully past Little Bleu so as not to wake the sleeping filly and invoke her father’s wrath. Poking her head out of the caravan’s door, she lit her horn and filled its wheels with magic. “So where are we going?” she asked, hoping that he’d lead them out of the Everfree rather than deeper inside it.

When he heard the question, his eyes looked into the distance, as if they were trying to pierce the mists of the long forgotten past. “Forward,” he said, either unwilling or unable to answer her question.

Trixie said nothing, instead willing her magic to make the caravan move forward, following after his him. Deciding she’d get no further answers from him, she decided to bide her time until an opportunity presented itself to her.

To be continued, in The Book of Water: The Heart of Winter

Author's Note

Thank you gentlereader for reading the Intermission of The Book of Water: The Marriage of the Slave King, as always comments are appreciated. Expect the epilogue sometime tomorrow, with two addendums to follow.

Thus the first part of our tale comes to an end, and another soon begins. I look forward to sharing it with you, beside the crackling flames of an open campfire, and beneath the pale moon on a warm summer's night. Until we meet again, I hope the night keeps you safe.

Once again gentlereader, thank you for reading and all your kind words and support. You make writing worthwhile. Until next time!

Epilogue: Then in the Fourth Age of Ponies...

The Book of Water: The Marriage of the Slave King

A Story by TalonMach5

Epilogue: Then in the Fourth Age of Ponies...

Silver Tongue looked up at the strange wayfarer who had been telling him the undoubtedly ancient tale. The pale green unicorn harper, watched him take another drag from his pipe, before exhaling the smoke in a large ring over their heads. Pushing back his blue wide brimmed hat that had slipped down from his silvery mane with his hoof, he wondered where the human had heard it from. But more importantly, why. After the string of events that he’d been forced to endure through today, he needed answers.

Though he was no stranger to wayfarers, many of his closest friends and associates in the harper’s guild were human. He questioned why he’d ended up meeting with this particular human, after being dumped in the middle of the Everfree Forrest by Scourge and Boomer, his dragon associate. He studied him carefully, wondering if it was pure happenstance or something else entirely that had led to their meeting here in the forest.

The wayfarer caught the pony staring at him, and offered him a toothy grin. Though the firelight provided some illumination, it wasn’t enough to see more than the vague shape of his host’s face. “Traveler, how did you enjoy my story?” he asked, puffing his pipe once more.

“It was a good tale,” Silver Tongue admitted, wishing he knew where the human had heard the story from. With the complete story at his disposal, he’d have something new to wow the crowds with in either Jamestown or Marelantis. “Where did you happen upon on it?”

“Why, looking to expand your repertoire, harper?” the human said with a slight chuckle.

“How did you know I was a harper?” Silver Tongue asked, growing suspicious of his host. “I never told you that.”

Leaning forward so that his entire face was illuminated by the crackling fire, the human looked at him with his warm brown eyes. “Friend,” he said, wearing a small smile. “When you have been around as long as I have, you gain sort of a sixth sense for these type of things.”

“What so you mean?” he asked, feeling curious about his host.

“Well I mean, pony,” he said, adding some wood to the fire. “You long to share in the adventures of your forebearers, but are too afraid to take the first step past your door.”

When he was confronted with the accusation, Silver Tongue felt himself growing warm, whether from the heat of the campfire or his own embarrassment, he didn’t know. “Sir, are you calling me a coward?” he said, raising his voice at the much larger human.

“Friend, I know a little bit about being afraid,” the human said, giving the unicorn a thoughtful look. “It’s alright to fear, but unless you face your fear, you’ll never truly live.”

“I see,” Silver Tongue replied, remembering how he’d turned down Scourge’s offer to join them in the search for the Vendetta.

The Vendetta, the very idea of searching for the lost relic was pure folly. Didn’t they know, that the emperor and all his servants had scoured where the Diamond Vale had once been for centuries, and they still had left emptyhoofed. The idea that anypony, especially a washed up never been like himself, could quest for the long lost crown of some dead god in a quest to put an end to the emperor’s war once and for all, was insanity. Such things were beyond him, the only use he had anymore, was for entertaining drunkards and hecklers in backwater taverns and bars.

“I see, friend,” the human said, nodding thoughtfully beneath his heavy cloak.

“What do you see?” he half-heartedly asked, his mind still consumed with thoughts that Scourge had thought him capable of leading them to the long lost crown of the Slave King.

“Your self-doubt,” he said, blowing another smoke ring.

“Listen here, you… you,” Silver Tongue stammered, feeling slightly flustered by how well the human seemed to know him. “You don’t know anything about me!”

The human considered his words for a moment, before taking another drag from his pipe. “Perhaps I don’t, friend,” he said, poking a glowing coal with a stick. “But do you know yourself?”

“What?” the pony said, not sure how to answer his question.

“I see a harper, who knows more of the lore of the forgotten ages than anyone else alive,” he said, pushing back his wide brimmed hat. “Someone who longs for a time long since passed, where adventure and heroism were more than the idle entertainment for disbelievers and drunkards. Where they were ideals you not only recounted in story, but lived as well.”

“But that was so long ago,” Silver Tongue said, looking away from the human in shame. “There are no more adventures, no more heroes in the modern age, only the empire.”

“Silver Tongue, that’s what Ouroboros and his flunkies in the cultural ministry would have you believe,” the wayfarer said, looking into his golden eyes. “But I know better, you know better. Lying within you is the strength to seize your destiny, you simply have to have to courage to take the first few steps out your door. Or don’t. The choice before you, is yours and yours alone.”

“How do you know all this?” Silver Tongue demanded, confused by how this stranger knew so much about him. As far as he knew, they’d never met before. But somehow, the wayfarer knew all his hopes and fears, and even his name. “Who are you?”

When he heard the question, the wayfarer gave him a bemused smile. “To some, they are tasked with keeping a promise to their friend,” he said, blowing smoke out of his nostrils. “And though he didn’t consider me his friend, I considered him mine. Silver Tongue, my name is Elrey, and I’ve watched over you all your life.”

“You know Lady Bleu, don’t you,” Silver Tongue said, remembering the lovely unicorn from the bar.

“Yes, I do, friend,” Elrey replied, giving him a warm smile. “Though she’ll always be Little Bleu to me.”

Suddenly the pieces began falling into place, Elrey, Scourge, Little Bleu, was this wayfarer possibly the Slave King in disguise? “Are you him?” he asked in reverence, awed that he was in the Lord of Earth’s presence. “Are you the Slave King?”

Elrey chuckled, and shook his head softly. “No, Silver Tongue, I’m not. As you can see, I still possess both my arms,” he said, with a hint of regret in his voice as he showed him both his arms. “If I was, the resistance might have an easier time of things.”

“So you expect me to help Scourge?” he asked, afraid to hear Elrey’s answer.

“Yes, I would like you to, Silver Tongue,” he said, adding a bit more fuel to the fire. “But as I said earlier, the choice is yours to make. But choose wisely, regret can be a hard thing to live with.”

“Elrey, I’m still not sure if I should,” Silver Tongue said, hanging his head in shame for being so afraid.

“I understand, Silver Tongue,” Elrey sagely replied, giving the pony an understanding smile. “Like me, my friend learned of regret the hard way.”

“Elrey, what happened to your friend?” he asked, wondering who his friend was.

“He let his pride blind him, and his fear paralyze him,” Elrey said, stoking the fire so it illuminated his face. “And in the end, they both wandered, lost in the heart of winter.”

Author's Note

My apologies, gentlereader, I know I marked the story as being complete, however I wanted to ensure everyone was aware that the sequel was now available.

If you didn't catch the link at the bottom of the story, here it is:

The Book of Water: The Heart of Winter

Prologue: A Bedtime Story

The Book of Water: The Marriage of the Slave King

A Story by TalonMach5

Prologue: a Bedtime Story

Silently she cursed her luck. Of all places to get stuck, why did it half to be in the thrice damned Everfree of all places? Try as she might, her magic was no match for the mud that had swallowed up the rear axle of her caravan. The thick mud covering her blue coat and silvery mane, made freeing her caravan from the mud all the more difficult. As night approached she began to worry, the Everfree was no place for respectable ponies to be after all. Deciding to make a camp for the night, her preparations were halted when she heard all around her the howls of timber wolves echoing through the dark forest. Frightened for her safety, the mare abandoned her stranded caravan as she ran in search of a more defensible position.

Running in fear for her life, she could hear the cracks of branches and the sounds of many heavy footpads chasing after her. Thinking that maybe her magic might be of some use, the unicorn attempted channeling some of her magical reserves into her horn. But unfortunately, found they were exhausted from her previous unsuccessful efforts rescuing her caravan from the muck. Her heart raced in terror as she heard the great beasts getting closer. By now she was exhausted and was ready to give up. Lying down against the cold earth, she covered her face with her hat and hoped it wouldn’t hurt too much.

Suddenly a rustling to her right made her tentatively open her purple eyes. In front of her she saw the moonlight overhead illuminating a large and thorny thicket. She could scarcely believe her good fortune. The key to her salvation was before her. Hearing a menacing growl emanating from behind her, she charged head first into the bramble without bothering to look, and prayed to Celestia that the timber wolves would be unable to follow after her.

Ignoring the pain of the bramble’s sharp thorns scratching her skin, she stopped when she felt something tugging on her performer’s cloak. She held her breath as she turned to look back at the monstrous beast that would pull her out of the safety of the bramble and devour her. She exhaled in relief when she saw that her cloak had only gotten caught on some thorns. Using her meager magical reserves, she managed to extricate herself from the thicket and looked at her surroundings. The thick bramble seemed to surround a large clearing. Deciding it was a safe enough place, she dusted off her torn cape and straightened the peaked hat on her head. Haughtily shaking her mane, she raised her muzzle into the air wearing an undeserved smug look of satisfaction.

“Ha!” the mare boasted. “You foolish timber wolves were no match for the superior intellect of the Great and Powerful Trixie! Fortunately for you, the Great and Powerful Trixie will allow you to leave before she teaches you a lesson for deigning to think you could devour her.”

From the other side of the thick brambles, a low growl was heard followed by a menacing howl that tore through the forest and into Trixie’s soul making her heart stop. Feeling terror overwhelm her, she slowly backed away from the bramble into the relative safety of the clearing. Now that her immediate survival was assured, she could feel the sharp stabs of hunger emanating from her empty belly.

Realizing she hadn’t yet eaten today, Trixie looked around hoping to find something edible. After less than five minutes, she looked up at the moon high in the night sky and raised her hooves towards the heavens in despair. “Trixie shall soon starve!” she moaned, having given up any hope of finding some food to eat.

Feeling the chill night air blowing against her sweat soaked coat, Trixie shivered involuntarily. She needed to find shelter soon, or hunger would be the least of her worries. As she wandered through the large clearing, she heard a sharp crack. Tilting her ears towards the sound, the aroma of hickory being burned filled her nostrils.

“Fire!” she inwardly cheered. And where there’s fire there’s ponies, and where there’s ponies that’s where the Great and Powerful Trixie can awe and inspire them with tales of adventure in exchange for a hot meal and some bits. But as tired as she was, the showmare would settle for just a meal and a warm place to sleep by their fire.

Following her nose and ears towards the source of the smoke and crackling flames, Trixie soon discovered the clearing where a large fire was burning brightly. Cautiously looking for the ponies tending to the fire, she discovered that whoever had set the fire was currently missing. Seeing that nopony was there, she boldly approached the roaring fire and sighed in pleasure as she felt herself bathed in its radiant heat. Warming her chilled body in front of the flames, she looked about the seemingly abandoned campsite in hopes of finding a bite to eat.

“Hello,” a young filly’s voice said from behind her.

“Aiieee!” Trixie screeched in terror.

“I’m sorry if I frightened you,” the young filly apologized. She smiled as she looked up at the much larger unicorn.

Seeing that she had nothing to fear from the foal, Trixie caught her breath and examined her. From the firelight, she could see that the filly was a blue unicorn with lavender eyes and a light blue mane. Slightly annoyed at having nearly been frightened out of her wits, she looked down at the filly and shook her mane once before introducing herself.

“The Great and Powerful Trixie never gets scared,” she boasted, incensed at the thought that a mere foal could have possibly frightened her. “Trixie was um… just stretching out her lungs, yes that’s it. She was stretching out her lungs. But Trixie wonders who you are?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, my name is Little Bleu,” the filly said with a small courtesy.

“Well Little Bleu, I am the Great and Powerful Trixie,” the showmare replied, taking great care to heavily emphasize both the great and powerful but not too much, lest the name Trixie be overshadowed by mere adjectives. “But Trixie wonders why you are all alone in the Everfree at night?”

“Oh I’m not alone!” Little Bleu happily squeaked, pointing her hoof over Trixie’s shoulder. “My daddy’s standing right behind you.”

Turning around, Trixie prepared herself to awe what must surely be a simpleton of a pony, for who could ever compare to the wonder that is the Great and Powerful Trixie? Opening her eyes to size up the plebeian who she would allow to bask in her glory, she was taken aback at what she saw. Towering over her like a colossus was a creature she could only assume was a human wayfarer. Atop his head he wore a heavy iron crown, and draped across his shoulders was the pelt of some great beast. Where his right arm should have been, she saw the dull gleam of metal reflecting the light of the fire. Looking into the man’s burning green eyes, she learned how weak and powerless she truly was.

“Who are you?” the man asked in a raspy voice that spoke volumes about its owner. Trixie was certain that if he didn’t like her answer he would kill her without a thought.

As his eyes seemed to bore deep into her soul searching for her secrets, Trixie did the only thing she could think of, boast and bluster. Hoping that the filly’s father would believe her, she assumed an air of confidence and took a deep breath. “I am the Great and Powerful Trixie,” she said, much more mutedly than before, taking care not to emphasize the great and powerful as heavily this time.

“Why have you come to this place?” the man asked, in a flat tone.

“The Great and Powerful Trixie saw your camp and wished to share the fire,” she said, hoping that he wouldn’t get offended by her trespass.

“Very well, you may share my fire,” he replied, turning away from Trixie as if she was some nuisance beneath his notice.

Sitting down in front of the fire, Trixie’s strange benefactor stared into the flames intently as he sat in silence. Little Bleu, spying her chance climbed onto her father’s lap and snuggled up affectionately against him. Sighing once, he ran his fingers through his daughter’s mane as she looked up at him expectantly. Absentmindedly, he opened up a satchel attached to his belt, reached inside, and pulled out a beautiful golden apple which he gave to her.

“Thank you daddy,” Little Bleu said, before she happily bit into the flesh of the delicious looking fruit.

Trixie felt her stomach rumbling with hunger when she saw the filly eating the apple. Longingly she gazed as the human reached into the bag and pulled out several more of beautiful golden fruits. When she heard the crisp snap of her host biting down into the succulent flesh of the apple, she greedily eyed the third apple sitting on his lap next to his daughter. As the fruit’s fragrance entered her nostrils, she began unconsciously licking her lips while her mouth watered in anticipation of having an opportunity to taste the last one.

Deciding that her host was obligated to share with her, Trixie gathered up her courage and boldly approached him. “The Great and Powerful Trixie wants an apple as well,” she said, looking up at the creature expectantly. She sweated as she waited for his response, hoping that he didn’t find her demand too egregious.

From beneath his iron crown, Little Bleu’s father looked down at the showmare with his burning eyes. As the terrifying eyes searched her, Trixie felt an involuntary shudder of fear run down her spine. After a moment, he picked up the apple and held it aloft. “What will you give me for it?” he asked, as the light from the fire reflected brilliantly from its skin, making Trixie desire it all the more.

“The Great and Powerful Trixie, tells tales of adventure and intrigue,” she boasted, puffing out her chest in pride. “Why Trixie has even defeated the dreaded Ursa Major!”

The man said nothing. Returning his gaze to the flames, he placed the apple back on his lap. “Are you a harper then?” he asked, poking at the coals with a stick.

“A harper? Ha!” Trixie said, dismissively waving her hoof. “So great and powerful is Trixie, the Harper’s Guild could not hope to contain her.”

The human said nothing, instead looked up at the full moon. The shape of a mare’s head looked down upon them, as it bathed them with its soft and gentle light. With longing, Trixie looked hungrily at the apple that was so close yet so far out of her reach.

Yawning softly, Little Bleu looked pleadingly up at her father. “Daddy, tell me a story,” she said, rubbing her head lovingly against his stomach.

The man looked down at Trixie and started thrumming his fingers against his leg, while the scent of the succulent apple assaulted her senses. Recognizing this was her chance, she desperately racked her mind for a story that would please her host. As she desperately tried to think of something, anything to tell, she heard the gentle hoot of an owl. Looking up, she saw a silvery owl and saw the silhouette of the mare on the moon looking down on her from behind it. Suddenly inspiration struck her, determined to get the apple the showmare stood up on all four of her legs and began speaking in even tones.

“This is an ancient legend,” Trixie said, looking up at the moon overhead. “This is the story of the mare on the moon.”

*****

Long ago in the beginning of the third age of ponies, the night was ruled by a princess as dark and as beautiful as the night itself. She controlled the moon in conjunction with her elder sister who controlled the sun. Together they maintained balance for all Equestria, ruling over their subjects with both wisdom and benevolence.

Every night the princess lovingly crafted the nighttime sky to dazzle and bring wonder to her subjects. So that when that whenever they gazed up at her sky, they would know she loved them and would protect them as they slept. But as the years passed by, few bothered to look up and appreciate the beauty she offered them. Eventually, she became bitter and jealous of her sister, who seemed beloved by everypony. Unhappy and tired of being unappreciated, she decided that until the ponies loved her night as much as her sister’s day, she would refuse to allow the sun to rise again.

Pleading with her younger sister to reconsider, her elder sister begged her to see reason. But with a hardened heart and wounded pride, the princess of the night refused to listen. Knowing that without the sun all Equestria would end, the princess of the day reluctantly banished her own sister to the moon using a powerful magical artifact called the Elements of Harmony. As the Sun rose and the moon set once again, the princess of the day looked up at her sister trapped on the moon before hanging her head down in sorrow, knowing she was doomed to remain there forever.

*****

Little Bleu rested silently on her father’s lap, spellbound as Trixie wove the tale aided of course with a bit of her magic. “Well?” she said, looking at her host expectantly.

“Well what?” he replied, lost in his thoughts while his hand rested atop the apple.

“The Great and Powerful Trixie told your daughter a story,” she said, holding out her hoof expectantly. “Trixie expects to be paid for her stories. Trixie does not entertain for free.”

After a moment he placed the apple onto Trixie’s outstretched hoof. Immediately, the famished unicorn began devouring it. Biting down hard into the apple, she hardly cared as its sweet juices ran freely down her muzzle as she feasted on its succulent flesh. Feeding on the sweet fruit, she noticed it was like nothing she had ever tasted before. As she ate it, she felt her body become invigorated and renewed, as if she had just awoken from an ageless slumber.

“Where did you hear that story?” he asked Trixie in curiosity, while gazing up at the moon.

“The Great and Powerful Trixie does not remember,” she said, unsure of where she had heard the story. Truthfully, she had no idea. Trixie was somepony who specialized in the tales of the late third age, and of her own exploits of course. Snorting at the ridiculous notion that somepony other than Princess Celestia could control the heavens, she was sure the story was balderdash. “The Great and Powerful Trixie is sure that it’s just a myth anyways, everypony knows only Princess Celestia can control the heavens.”

“Is that so?” he replied, never removing his gaze from the full moon overhead.

“What do you mean?” Trixie asked, confused by his response. “Trixie does not understand.”

Reaching down into his satchel, he pulled out a handful of beautiful gems. Leaning down to show them to the unicorn, he spread them on the ground before her.

Looking down at the gems and then back up into his burning eyes, Trixie suddenly felt small and insignificant. Sitting down on her haunches, she looked up at him and became enraptured by the light of the fire that reflected from his arm and crown. While the light of the full moon illuminated the night sky behind him, and seemed to form a halo around his head.

“She was kind,” he said, picking up a lovely pink gem from the pile and placing it back in his bag. “She was so kind, yet in the end she became twisted and cruel.”

“Who was?” Trixie asked, curious as to who he might be speaking of.

“Her laughter…” he continued, not paying attention to Trixie as he picked up a gem as blue as a summer sky. “Her laughter was like the gentle peal of bells. It made everyone she met smile, but in the end her laughter chilled them to the bone.”

“She?” Trixie said, furrowing her brow in confusion. “Who was she?”

“She was a loyal and true friend,” he replied, picking up a blood red gem and adding it to the others in his bag. “She aided me in my time of need. Alas, I couldn’t do the same for her when she needed my help.”

“How did you know her?” Trixie asked, her curiosity piqued by what he was saying.

“She was a person of integrity,” he replied, placing an orange gem that flickered with power in the bag. “In the end I think that’s what got her, she refused to back down and demanded to get what she was rightfully owed.”

“She sounds like she was quite remarkable,” Trixie said. “Is that how you came to be Little Bleu’s father?”

“She gave me such a precious gift,” he said, picking up a vibrant purple gem and staring at it before placing it back in his bag. “My one regret is that I couldn’t reciprocate.”

“What was her name?” Trixie asked, curious as to who could have made such an impact on him.

Picking up the last lavender gem in his hand before placing it in his bag, he looked up at the moon wistfully and gently stroked his sleeping daughter’s mane. Sighing deeply, either with regret or longing Trixie couldn’t tell, she looked up at him spellbound as he looked down at the unicorn sharing his fire. “Let me tell you the true story of the mare on the moon. Her name was Nightmare Moon…”

Author's Notes:

Thank you gentlereader for reading, as always comments are appreciated. I would like to say thank you for your patience in waiting for the second entry in the saga of the Great Slave King. Please forgive me for reusing the epilogue of The Book of Earth: The Great Slave King for the prologue, but I felt it was an appropriate place to start the story. If this is your first time reading about the Great Slave King I invite you to read the first book found here The Great Slave King if you would like to know more about the Slave King's background and Equestria as I envision it. Reading the first book isn't required to enjoy the story, as I'm writing each as separate from one another, but it's something to read between releases. I currently have up to chapter six written, and plan on releasing a chapter a week, so hopefully I'll have enough breathing room to keep ahead.

Once again gentlereader thank you for reading, until next time!

Addendum: The Players, Those Who Play the Game (Optional. Now with theme music!)

The Book of Water: The Marriage of the Slave King

A Story by TalonMach5

Addendum: The Players, Those Who Play the Game

The Slave King, Lord of Earth: An extradimensional being from another world. He spent the first ten years of his existence in Equestria as “a guest” of the Gem Biter’s, who were the ruling clan of the diamond dogs. Once he managed to escape his masters, the former slave bathed in the holy waters of the Well of Eternity, becoming imbued with the spark of divinity. When he was confronted by the entirety of the Equestrian Pantheon for his trespass, he somehow managed to slay Lord Darkpaw, Lord of Earth, causing him to simultaneously inherit dominion over the Prime Element of Earth and banishment from all the other domains.

During the first two years of his reign, the Slave King nearly brought the whole of Equestria to the brink of disaster in his thirst for vengeance against those who had wronged him. Eventually he relented, and began performing his responsibilities as the Lord of Earth, saving Equestria from both war and famine. Unknown to almost everyone else, his actions were instrumental in preventing the release of the unmentionable one from his prison deep inside the Pit. Currently, he’s working tirelessly to bring the one he lost back to him. He’s vowed that not even death will stand in his way, as he patiently waits for the day when he can hold her in his arms once more.

The Slave King's Theme

Princess Celestia the Radiant, Lady of Day: A benevolent and regal alicorn of immense power, and head of the Equestrian Pantheon. With her sister by her side, Princess Celestia has guided the three pony tribes through times of both lean and plenty for eons from within the magnificent city of Londwhinium near the center of Equestria. Of late, she’s grown worried at the growing power and influence that the Slave King wields in the south. While appreciative of the trade that flows through the domains, she’s uneasy regarding the Domain of Earth’s military buildup and the border clashes with both the Domains of Water in the west and Fire in the east. She still remembers the pain the Slave King carries where his heart once was, and hopes that he will finally be able to make himself whole. She longs for the day when he will embrace the pantheon as his kin and accept the magic of friendship into his heart. Currently she’s planning something special for the inauguration of the Slave King’s five hundredth year of rule from her throne in Londwhinium.

Princess Celestia's Theme

Princess Luna the Beautiful, Lady of Night: An erudite and graceful alicorn whose power is second only to her sister Princess Celestia’s. Unlike her sister’s even temperament, Princess Luna, like the moon she controls, waxes and wanes with strong emotional outbursts. Recently from her tower, she has taken to writing poetry lamenting how little she’s appreciated by her subjects in comparison to her sister. She greatly longs for somepony to truly appreciate how much effort she places into the construction of the night sky. Although she considers the Slave King cold and heartless, she has developed grudging respect towards him over the centuries for his achievement in taming the Equestrian Badlands and transforming it into a wealthy trade empire. Lately, she sees in him a kind of kindred spirit, somepony who also intimately knows the bitterness of loneliness. Currently she spends her nights alone, longing to receive a tiny fraction of the adulation her sister receives daily. Her deepest desire is for somepony she can love and who will truly appreciate her night sky.

Princess Luna's Theme

Lord Triton the Lawgiver, Lord of Water: A noble and just seapony, his sense of justice runs as deep and wide as the Western Sea. As the author and enforcer of the law that governs all within Equestria, Lord Triton is known affectionately by his people as the Lawgiver. As the founder and head of the ubiquitously named order of questing knights known as ‘The Most Illustrious Order of Triton the Lawgiver’ he sends his errant knights out into Equestria to help keep the peace between the domains, as they quest bringing honor and glory to his name. Located on an archipelago in the Western Sea, Marelantis, the capital of the Domain of Water and a former trade powerhouse, has fallen on hard times. Once not so long ago, almost all trade in Equestria flowed through the many ports his seaponies controlled. However the trade network the Slave King built, ensures that the majority of the wealth generated by trade flows south.

Recently within the last few centuries, a new upstart order of questing knights has recently emerged in the south, which Lord Triton considers an affront to his power. This order known only as ‘The Order of the Shadow’, are the antithesis to all which he holds dear. Instead of protecting the weak from the strong, they only fight for wealth or to prove their martial prowess. They happily turn a blind eye towards wickedness when they discover it, and willingly excuse the sin by saying that it’s none of their concern. But worst of all, they accept any rabble off the street into their ranks. It matters not that they might have once been unsavory characters, criminals, or even females. Their only requirement was that they fought well. Currently the border clashes and skirmishes that occur regularly between both orders worry him. Lord Triton knows it’s only a matter of time until all-out war breaks out between both orders of errant knights. But he still holds out hope that one day the Slave King will discover reason, finally accept his proper place in Equestria, and reign in the rabble that he calls ‘The Order of the Shadow’.

Lord Triton's Theme

Lady Zephyr the Maelstrom, Lady of Air: A tempestuous and fierce Griffin, her soul flies free and unconstrained by earthly concerns. Once, Lady Zephyr knew love. Once, her heart beat as one with another. Once, her soul was complete. Then the murderer took it all away from her. Weeping for her loss, she vowed that she would one day avenge her lost love. But fate pulled a cruel trick upon her broken heart, and soon she desired the Slave King, her lover’s slayer. Struggle as she might, she eventually succumbed and traded her desires for him in exchange for secret knowledge hidden away in the far reaches of the north, in her Golden Eyrie atop Darkpaw’s Spine. In exchange for alleviating her desires, she shares the secrets of tapping into and controlling his unfamiliar powers.

Over the ensuing centuries, Lady Zephyr and the Slave King have had an on again and off again relationship. Although not as passionate as Lord Darkpaw was, she can sense in him the same strength and cunning that won her heart those many millennia ago. When her heart aches, true to their agreement he was there for her. Although grateful for the simulacrum of her prior romance their odd relationship offers her grieving heart, of late she’s found herself desiring more than he’s willing to give. Not even the thawed his unfeeling heart as he steadfastly refused to give into her demands. Currently she looks forward to his five hundredth year, for therein lies the key to finally obtaining her heart’s desire.

Lady Zephyr's Theme

Lord Ouroboros the Fire Tyrant, Lord of Fire: A mighty and powerful dragon, his greed for wealth is only barely matched by his hunger for vengeance from the one who stole everything from him. “Man-thing, I will have my revenge upon you yet!” is commonly heard rumbling from deep within the Firehold, home of Lord Ouroboros’ immense hoard of gemstones and gold in the east. These days, the most he can do is rumble angrily in his sleep, dreaming of days long since passed, back when he was both feared and respected by the entire pantheon. Back before his pride had been shattered, before he was a pauper and his children sold into slavery to the ponies, back before he lost his eye. Back to before the Slave King.

The centuries haven’t been kind to Lord Ouroboros. While his children are experiencing a sort of golden age of plenty, thanks in part to Princess Celestia caring for a portion of his children’s whelps and the plentiful gems that now abound. However, he is most assuredly unhappy, with the loss of his left eye and more importantly his wounded pride. Currently he lays in torpor, recovering from his great battle nearly five hundred years prior. As he fitfully sleeps, he dreams of the day when he can finally have his revenge against the insect that had stood in his way, finally taking his place as the rightful emperor over all Equestria. As he slumbers, everyone, his children included fear the day when he will finally awaken. For his anger will burst forth like a volcanic eruption, and none shall be spared his boundless wrath. Unknown to most, before his defeat by the machinations of the Slave King, The Fire Tyrant had made a secret pact with the unmentionable one, to gain power over the entire pantheon and all Equestria.

Lord Ouroboros's Theme

Jormungandr the Watcher, The Winding One: A cunning and wise serpent, the plots and intrigue he involves himself in are nearly as twisting and as lengthy as the many rivers linking the domains and running through Equestria bearing his name. Beneath his half lidded eyes and gentle smile rests the mind of a schemer. Infinite are the many plots he runs, and no court intrigue is too insignificant to escape his notice. Currently Jormungandr has been rather quiet of late, neither speaking with deity nor mortal alike. It can only be surmised that he must be working on some great scheme unlike any Equestria has ever seen. Unknown to most, Jormungandr has been a constant foil to the unmentionable one’s many attempts to escape the Pit. Perhaps his great silence is somehow related, unfortunately it can never be known.

Jormungandr's Theme

Lady Suzaku the Passionate Flame, Lady of Summer: A beautiful and lovely phoenix, she is the embodiment of love and passion that often blooms in the early summer amongst the mortals of Equestria. From her home the Summer Palace in the Domain of Fire, Lady Suzaku regularly hosts events and parties celebrating the passion and love her guests often share with each other. Although she blesses others with love, she has yet to find a love of her own. Once, with honeyed words Lord Ouroboros promised her everything her lonely heart desired, but in the end she was callously betrayed. In an anger born of a love spurned, she found the Slave King. Although he couldn’t give her her heart’s desire, he was a willing outlet in exchange for the knowledge she possessed.

In her great desire to woo him her divine powers mingled with his, transmuting him into the . Over the centuries , the aptly named feathered folk, each as beautiful as their mother and as , have become a common sight in the south. Currently she sits on her golden throne entertaining both her numerous guests and as she eagerly waits for the inauguration of the Slave King’s five hundredth year.

Lady Suzaku's Theme

Lord Cerynitis the Rimefrost, Lord of Winter: A laconic and taciturn reindeer, he holds mastery over the frigid winter and the art of war. When he thinks of how that miserable creature played the pantheon like a violin, Lord Cerynitis’s blood boils. Thinking about how the Slave King has twisted the pantheon against him, has left a bitter taste in his mouth. In his hour of need, his dearest friend Lord Triton turned against him to defend the monster from the wrath of the pantheon. Even worse, his onetime lover Princess Luna, a doe of propriety had willingly rutted with the degenerate beast!

As the fires of betrayal burn deep inside him, he’s vowed that each of them will know that the blade of vengeance is much like winter, bitterly cold. They will regret betraying him! They will mourn for having spurned his favor. And in the end when ruin threatens to swallow them whole, they will turn to him begging for salvation and he’ll turn his back telling them no. Currently, he has taken to living alone in his Forever Ice Keep far in the northwest, unwilling to admit any guests. Recently it has been rumored that an unearthly laughter can be heard echoing above the howling winds that swirl around his desolate keep.

Lord Cerynitis's Theme

Lord Raiden the Seer, Lord of Autumn: A reserved and calculating kirin, knowledge is power and few know more than he. Whether someone be great or small, if they need the answer to a difficult question they seek his advice. When the path ahead is shrouded in the mists of uncertainty, he sends forth his council. When someone desires to know the many secrets that hidden magic holds, he sends his regards and bids them welcome to his tower in the north. Lord Raiden has kept his hand hidden, having chosen not to participate in the chastisement of the Slave King. For as long as the godling is banished to his domain, what cause has he to fear?

Some would say accumulating knowledge for knowledge sake is a waste, but Lord Raiden knows those are the words of fools too stupid to realize their own ignorance. Unlike the others, he is content to cloister himself in his Ziggurat of Knowledge, trying to scry all of the secrets of the cosmos. So let the others waste their strength, endlessly plotting and scheming against each other. In the end, his superior intellect will see him through. Currently, he patiently waits atop his tower for the stars to properly align for the grand celestial conjunction, which he knows will soon occur.

Lord Raiden's Theme

Lady Minoa the Feral, Lady of Spring: A boisterous and wild minotaur, her only desire is to live free according to her whims. Unlike the other deities of the pantheon who only wish to levy order and civilization upon their followers, Lady Minoa only wishes to tend to her gardens and vineyards inside the Twisting Path Labyrinth that lay in the south. She only grows stronger while the others bicker about pointless matters. What power does some meaningless law have when you have the strength of a strong iron axe in your fist? And what of magic? It’s nothing but the trick of the puny weakling races, all of whom are much too afraid of the pain that comes from an honest brawl in the mud.

Regarding the Slave King, though she might consider his desire for order and civilization abhorrent, at least he is refreshingly honest as far as deities are concerned. At first she was concerned by his rather violent temperament. However, she soon recognized that if he was left to his own devices, he would allow her free reign in the management of her domain. A stark contrast to Lord Darkpaw, who in the past forced many demands upon her. The Slave King is sometaurus she can work with, and even serves as a useful buffer against that dreadful busybody Lord Triton, who always wants to stick his snout in where it doesn’t belong. Currently, she’s running wild in the south, pleased with the bounteous harvests that flourish in her gardens every year.

Lady Minoa's Theme

Discord the Scion of Chaos, Master of the World: A twisted and surreal chimera, an elder primordial being of chaos that exists to prevent Equestria from entering a state of atrophy. Unlike the rest of the pantheon he has no domain, yet still has some form of influence upon them all. Generous to a fault, he lives to share his gifts with all. He rejoices at the sight of their horrified delight plastered on their muzzles, as he bestows a gift or three on them. Forever hounded by the rest of the pantheon when he manages to escape his prison of stone, he always takes his imprisonment in stride. After all, it would be boring if he never lost, and there’s always next time isn’t there?

Regarding the Slave King, Discord has always felt he was a refreshing change of pace from the predictable boredom of the status quo the others always demanded that be foisted upon the denizens of Equestria. Slaying Darkpaw, nearly bringing Equestria to utter ruin, fermenting a civil war in the pantheon, and tricking the rest into accepting a useless treaty all in the space of less than two years, he found delightfully entertaining. But unfortunately the Slave King had to tend to his responsibilities, and is now dreadfully boring and predictable with all of his trade and road building. Though the introduction of the beastmen races he finds fascinating, their novelty soon wore off. Currently, he occupies a pedestal in the gardens of Londwhinium waiting for his next opportunity to escape. Though looking upon him, most wouldn’t know that it was he alone who was originally responsible for saving Equestria from the tyranny of the unmentionable one, and ever since has been a constant thorn in his side.

Discord's Theme

Lord Ananse the Soul Weaver, Master of the Threads of Fate: A jovial and tricky spider, all who live and die do so at his whim. While most members of the pantheon concern themselves with the trivial matters of the flesh, Lord Ananse only cares for what truly matters, the fate of all living things. While the deities of the pantheon might fancy themselves the masters of their domain, he knows who really pulls the strings. Sitting in the center of his massive web that lies far across the Western Sea in the land of the Zebrakan, he spins and weaves. The threads of his weave touch the lives of all living in Equestria, from the lowliest slave to even Celestia herself.

Regarding the Slave King, Lord Ananse is a bit uneasy. Everywhere the Lord of Earth treads, he threatens to unravel the carefully woven threads of fate that Lord Ananse tirelessly weaves for the world. Though he considers the Slave King to be a bothersome anomaly, he can’t help but feel the threads of fate being pulled by some other power at work. While the Slave King’s presence in Equestria might be an annoyance, the birth of his beastmen progeny allows the threads to flow from them to him. Currently, he’s untangling the tangled threads of the warp, trying to uncover the identity of the one who dares interfere in his weave.

Lord Ananse's Theme

Strix the Guardian of Dreams: An intuitive and mysterious owl, he stands guard over all who slumber. Because his domain is so closely linked to that of the Pit and the Summerlands, Strix is often the first to know when the delicate balance of Equestria is upset. Regarding the Slave King, he considers the Lord of Earth a puzzling creature. Having seen his dreams, he shudders in fear of the knowledge of the land that gave such a being birth. Currently he stands watch as a sentinel, keeping a look out for any disturbance that might threaten Equestria’s balance. Though he has little power compared to the other members of the pantheon, he has thwarted the unmentionable one many times, saving Equestria in the process.

Strix's Theme

Lugh, Watcher of Roads and Guardian of Travelers; Loki, Refuge of Thieves and Tricksters: One is cautious the other wily, raven brothers with feathers as black as the night. Though each has hardly any domain worth mentioning, both Lugh and Loki travel the breadth of Equestria watching from the skies above for those they deem worthy. Fortunate indeed is the mortal or deity they choose to aid, for their gifts are precious. As for the Slave King they have aided him in the past, and may do so once again in the future. Whether they choose to aid him when his five hundredth year comes, it remains to be seen. Currently, they have taken to exploring greater Equestria, searching for worthy souls to receive their gifts. It’s a secret, but they’ve saved Equestria from time to time.

Lugh and Loki's Theme

The unmentionable one, Tiroc the Destroyer: A vile and monstrous creature, long has he been imprisoned and long has he plotted his escape from the Pit that holds him. Should he ever break free, he would destroy each member of the pantheon in turn and lay waste to Equestria. Regarding the Slave King, the unmentionable one considers him nothing more than an oddity. True, he was instrumental in defusing one of his many attempts at escape. But even then, mortals played their part as well. Should the Lord of Earth be a useful tool or a stumbling block, it matters not. When he has freed himself from the Pit, the Slave King will fall as easily as all the others.

Tiroc's Theme

Author's Notes:

Thank you gentlereader for reading, as always comments are appreciated. You'll notice that this entry is a bit different than the chapters I usually post. This entry is more of a who's who of the Equestrian pantheon. Once vital plot points have been revealed the redactions will be removed. As the story progresses, additional addendum's will be released as well.

Once again gentlereader thanks for reading, until next time!

Chapter 6: A Conspiracy of Greed, Hearts, and Familial Obligation

The Book of Water: The Marriage of the Slave King

A Story by TalonMach5

Chapter 6: A Conspiracy of Greed, Hearts, and Familial Obligation

They say that in the first age of Equestria that the forces of light and order, contained and shackled the forces of chaos and darkness, uniting the land in harmony’s embrace. Celestia and her allies, after much trial and tribulation, cast the Unmentionable One into the Pit and bound Discord inside a prison of stone. With the wicked ones cast out of Equestria, and their power bound, harmony reigned supreme. Truly it was a golden age, with benevolent Celestia leading those who sought it, to harmony’s path. While the Lawgiver hedged the way, protecting all from the pitfalls that hid in the shadows. But in the second age of Equestria, it was an age of strife. For the Prime Elements would quarrel with one another for supremacy, and none had any room for harmony in their hearts. Thus, it was an age of sorrow, of strife and despair, of war and destruction, for the shadows ruled, and chaos had free reign in their hearts. But then the third age of Equestria came, and with it balance. And though the shadows still remain in the hidden places, tempting all to do evil, Celestia’s light, offers refuge from the darkness.

-Author unknown, Inscription found in the Temple of Harmony, located in the ruins of Londwhinium

It had been many years since she had been this far away from Equestria. In truth, she hadn’t been to the land of the Zebrakan in ages. Until recently, she had little reason to travel so far from her home in the Domain of Fire. But now, there was nofeather else that she could turn to for aid. Though she had pleaded and begged with her former consort, he had refused to speak to her for nearly a decade. Even now, she longed to be with him, but he refused all of her advances. She didn’t know what else she could do, and time was running out. Soon Celestia would be free to compel him, and then her last chance to be reunited with him would be dashed to pieces.

In dark times like these, she had few friends she could turn to. Only somefeather clever and wise would be able to grant a solution to her distressing problem. Among the most powerful and wisest of the pantheon, she had few options to choose from. There was benevolent Celestia of course, and while she might sympathize with her situation, she would only be a rival in this case. Then there was Discord the riotous prankster, unfortunately he also had a tendency to cause mischief. All his aid would come with a hidden cost, and in the end you often ended up worse for having sought out his assistance. But even if she wanted to consult the trickster, he was currently encased inside his stone, and couldn’t help anyfeather, least of all her.

But if anyfeather could solve her problem, it would be the master of plots, the Winding One. When she first decided to seek out Jormungandr’s aid, she found that the Library of Eternity was abandoned. When she inquired to his compatriots of his whereabouts, nofeather knew where he had gone, not even the dreamlord Strix. It was as if he had dropped off the face of Equestria. Unfortunately, nofeather had seen neither sight nor scale of him in nearly a decade, and she was running out of options. This is why she decided trying her luck in the wilds of the dark heart of the Zebrakan. Though she wasn’t sure if he would even admit her, she was desperate, and he was her last remaining hope.

Looking down, she saw the innumerable silken strands of his great weave running in all directions. Tilting her fiery red wings, she circled the tangle of threads below as she sought out a proper place to land. Spying a clearing in the tangle of threads, she landed on her feet lightly. Looking to the web, she saw vibrating as its owner worked. Though she hadn’t announced her intrusion into his domain yet, she knew that he knew, that she was already there and waited to be invited into his home.

“It’s not often I receive a visitor so fair,” a deep voice said. “I bid you welcome into my lair.”

“Thank you for your hospitality,” she said, bowing respectfully to her host.

“Burning maid, why have you here come seeking my aid,” he asked, the bass of his voice making the thousands upon thousands of silk threads vibrate, carrying his voice to her ear.

“Surely, you must know what I desire,” she said, looking at him with hope in her ruby eyes.

“I know of the thing that you seek from the south,” her host replied, as he sat in the middle of his great web. “But I want to hear it, spoken from your own mouth.”

“I want him to love me,” she pleaded, with her wings outstretched in supplication. “Please Lord Ananse, you’re my last hope.”

Her host stopped his weaving, and looked at her with all eight of his shining black eyes curiously. “Lady Suzaku, seeking the means to make a heartless creature love you is a difficult test,” he said, holding a few threads with three of his eight legs. “I’m afraid that you will find it an impossible quest.”

“Then is there no hope for me?” she asked, with pleading and heartfelt eyes.

The Soul Weaver stopped tending to the warp of the great weave and considered her request. Currently, Lady Suzaku’s threads were a gnarled mess. In fact, everything that interloper touched caused the corresponding threads of fate to become tangled and unreadable. Though he cared little if she found happiness and love, her desires presented him with a unique opportunity. Try as he might, Lord Ananse had never managed to grab hold of the interloper’s threads. He often wondered if it was due to his foreign origins, but as of yet the secret to his resistance was unknown. But were he to aid Lady Suzaku in her endeavor, he might finally have the means to pinning down those loose and bothersome threads once and for all.

Turning his massive yellow carapace towards her, Lord Ananse faced Lady Suzaku. “Though whether you find happiness is of no consequence to me, I am not devoid of compassion” he said, clicking his mandibles. “I shall help you with your doomed and star crossed passion.”

When Lady Suzaku heard that the Soul Weaver had agreed to aid her, she was overjoyed. “What do I have to do?” she asked, eager to begin.

Lord Ananse began weaving a small tapestry with instructions written on it in a neat and flowing script. “This will tell you all you need to do to in order to obtain your heart’s desire,” he said, handing the beautifully woven silk tapestry to her. “I bid good luck to you, and hope that your quest doesn’t cause you to expire.”

Lady Suzaku shook with excitement as she examined the tapestry. This was the answer to her prayers. “Thank you so much, Lord Ananse!” she said, bowing deeply to her savior.

“Lady Suzaku, a word of warning,” he said, resuming his work on the great weave. “Tread carefully, this path you take. Though you may receive that what you seek, in the end you may bitterly weep.”

“Never,” Lady Suzaku said, preparing to take off into the air. “That he finally loves me is all I ask.”

“Then I wish you good luck in your endeavor. May Celestia’s sun shine upon you forever,” he replied, attacking the numerous tangles that had been created over the last few days. Once she had left his great web, he looked at her as she disappeared into the clouds. “Though she might be a useful tool, she certainly is quite the deluded fool…”

*****

Shadow Knight Sombra stood triumphantly over the fallen Sir Hurricane the Gallant. Flashing his green eyes defiantly at Lord Triton, he flicked his blood stained tail flail once, causing it to make a loud snap.

When Lord Triton saw that his champion had fallen, he said nothing. He’d heard the sickening crunch the flail made when it had struck his knight’s head. He knew that his knight was most likely dead, the victim of the unicorn’s vicious and merciless attack. Getting up from his seat, he rushed down to the pitch to see if Sir Hurricane had fallen to the brute’s flail, and passed to the Summerlands.

When he reached the ring, he ignored the wicked unicorn and went to Sir Hurricane’s side. Checking for a pulse, he was relieved when he heard the seapony take a shallow breath. Summoning the power of Water, he enveloped his knight in a ball of healing water and teleported him to his citadel. Looking down at Sombra, he found the desire to slay the disgusting creature overwhelming. Knowing such behavior was beneath him, the Lawgiver returned to his seat at the Slave King’s table.

“This perverse entertainment has gone on long enough,” he said, giving the Slave King a dark look.

“So do you concede?” the Slave King asked.

“I do,” Lord Triton replied. “But that creature is to be nowhere near Bone’s Landing, if you want our agreement to stand.”

Princess Celestia looked worried as the Slave King and Lord Triton spoke with each other. Due to the wicked behavior of one of her ponies, the peaceful arrangement she had helped create was in danger of falling apart before it even had a chance to begin. “Lord Triton, I’m sure the Slave King would be willing to concede your request in this matter,” she said, giving the Slave King an imploring look. She hoped that he wouldn’t be stubborn. Lord Triton was feeling wrathful, and the Slave King provoking him could be disastrous.

“Lord Triton, I can sympathize with you,” the Slave King said. “But Shadow Knight Sombra has won the contest and is entitled to a boon of his choice. Should he ask to be garrison commander of Bone’s Landing, I’ll have to grant him his request.”

“Then if there’s to be any hope for peace, pray that he doesn’t ask for that,” Lord Triton said with a hint of finality in his voice.

“Oh dear,” Celestia murmured to herself.

*****

The ale they were consuming had put both Dawson and Dame Squall at ease. In fact, they were both cheering together as Sir Hurricane deftly avoided and parried against Sombra’s attacks. As she watched the two of them reveling together, Melody smiled. She was glad that she had managed to make two feathers that were so miserable happy. As she absentmindedly strummed her fingers on her lute, a dark blur near the pitch caught her attention. Her feathers tingled, that could only mean somefeather was casting in the vicinity. Using her unique ties to the Earth and Fire, she traced the magic along its ley lines back to the caster. She couldn’t tell quite who it was since their form kept shifting, but she could tell by their magic they were up to no good.

Before Melody could investigate, Dame Squall screamed, making her look towards the pitch. It was awful, what she saw made her heart sink. Sombra had smashed his tail flail into Sir Hurricane’s head, most likely killing him. Knowing the caster had most likely had something to do with Sombra’s success, she reached down and poked Dawson’s wing.

Dawson couldn’t believe it. Sombra had somehow managed to hit Sir Hurricane right in the forehead with his tail flail. He remembered how painful it felt when the flail smashed his knee, and didn’t envy the pain he must be feeling now. As he stared at the fallen seapony, he felt somefeather poking his wing. Turning around, he discovered that it was Melody who was wearing a look of concern etched onto her face.

“What is it?” Dawson asked, curious as to why the normally smiling Melody might be looking so distraught.

“I think someone interfered with the match,” she said, “I felt someone casting right before Sombra’s flail struck Sir Hurricane.”

Dame Squall was in shock, Sir Hurricane the Gallant had fallen, and to a mudslinger slave no less. She could still remember how he had kissed her fin and vowed to win in her name, to restore her fallen honor. And now he was unmoving and laying muzzle first in the mud. He might even be dead, she couldn’t tell from her vantage point. But all she could feel was sorrow welling up inside her breast, for the loss of such a great stallion. She also felt something else, a burning desire to avenge her fallen comrade. In her grief, her eyes overflowed with burning tears. As she freely wept for him, she heard Melody the Yellow say something that caught her attention, “I think someone interfered with the match.”

Dame Squall knew instantly what she must do. As a chevaleresse of ‘The Most Illustrious Order of Triton the Lawgiver’, she was honor bound to avenge Sir Hurricane if she could manage it. Turning towards Dawson and Melody, she picked up her trident and held it at the ready. “I demand you tell me who it was that interfered,” she growled, as her righteous fury was fueled be her grief and slightly inebriated state.

“Whoa, just hold on,” Melody said, trying to calm the seapony chevaleresse down. “We need to approach this carefully, or they might escape capture.”

Dame Squall nodded in agreement. As much as she wanted to charge headfirst with her trident, doing so would only alert the brigand that they knew. “Very well, Melody the Yellow,” she said. “How shall we proceed?”

“We’ll need a distraction,” Melody said with a slight smile, while looking at their half-filled mugs of ale. “Dustin and Dame Squall, do you think you could create one for me?”

Understanding what Melody had in mind, Dawson nodded once. “I think so,” he said, making sure his shemagh was secure against his face. “Where do you need it?”

“See that stack of ale barrels,” she said, pointing towards a stack of thirty large barrels.

“Yes,” Dame Squall said.

“Good,” Melody replied. “I think the both of you are a bit thirsty, aren’t you?”

“Yes I am,” Dawson agreed, dumping the contents of his mug on the ground.

Following Dawson’s example, Dame Squall emptied hers as well. “I believe I’m feeling rather parched,” she announced, before heading towards the ale barrels to get a refill.

A minute later, Dawson followed after her, while Melody took off into the sky.

*****

When Bazzt Zzzt saw the large seapony fall, he felt the pleasure receptors of his brain reward him for completing his task successfully. With the unicorn standing triumphantly over the presumably dead seapony, his job was complete and he was free to return to his hive. He felt a slight twinge of fear coursing up and down his carapace, but that was to be expected in his line of work. He didn’t know the reasons for his mission here and didn’t particularly care. With the job now complete, his only concern was how to escape the Slave King’s camp undetected. Looking up at him, he involuntarily shivered with terror. If he was discovered, his queen’s wrath would be the least of his worries.

The stories of what he might do to him if he was caught were well known to all members of his kind. Ever since their queen had tried extracting love from him, his people had earned the Slave King’s eternal enmity. While everyone was distracted by the fallen seapony, he took the opportunity to assume a new form. Dropping his current disguise, he transformed himself into a scruffy looking diamond dog. Slowly he moved away from the relative safety of his hiding place, and away from the ring. Now all he needed was a distraction, and he would be home free.

Looking at the assembled throng of different races, he tried determining who would be the easiest mark. Seeing a seapony mare heading to the ale barrels, he sampled her emotions. Oh, she was a sea of simmering anger against the residents of the Earth. She would do perfectly. However before he could act, a feathered folk bumped into the seapony and glared at her. The seapony shouted several things at the feathered folk, and demanded an apology catching the attention of several of the others. This was too perfect, a large number of the Slave King’s soldiers and Lord Triton’s knights were surrounding the two now.

Bazzt Zzzt couldn’t believe his luck. Sampling the heightened emotions permeating the air, he found that it was laced with anger and hatred. If things continued like this they quickly threatened to turn into violence. All he had to do now was light a spark, and it would ignite the bad blood they all had for each other into a brawl. Releasing a bit of his shadow magic, he sent whispers into the crowd enticing them to fight. To the seaponies he said, Those mudslingers killed Sir Hurricane! We need to avenge him. And to the Slave King’s soldiers he said, Those seaponies think they’re better than you. Show them who’s stronger! Within minutes the crowd was shouting racial slurs and epithets at each other.

Chuckling to himself at how easily he had riled up the mob, he walked over towards the largest diamond dog he could find. “Hey,” he said.

“What?” growled the diamond dog.

“I heard that seapony say you were nothing but a weakling,” Bazzt Zzzt said, pointing towards a large seapony knight. “He told several of his buddies, he thought you were a scrawny weakling bitch, and that you were nothing but a pushover.”

The diamond dog let out a low growl. “Oh yeah?” he snarled, digging his claws into the earth.

“You’re not going to let him get away with saying that are you?” he asked.

“No,” the diamond dog said. As he left Bazzt Zzzt’s side and walked towards the seapony knight. “Hey you, take it back!”

The Seapony turned around when he heard the diamond dog speak to him. Looking down at him he frowned. “Take back what? I have no idea of what you’re talking about,” he dismissively said.

“I hear you think I’m a scrawny weak little bitch, and a pushover,” the diamond dog accused, balling up his massive right paw into a fist.

“Well madam you definitely are scruffy looking,” the seapony said with a slight chuckle, before turning his back to the diamond dog.

When the seapony insulted him, the diamond dog’s eyes narrowed. “No one calls me scruffy looking!” he snarled, baring his teeth threateningly.

“Then I suggest bathing regularly,” the seapony replied.

Before the seapony could say anything else, the diamond dog threw a hard punch right in the Seapony’s muzzle knocking him to the ground.

The seapony rubbed his bruised muzzle, before standing up. Looking to his friends once, he leapt at the diamond dog striking him hard with his fins and tail. The Seapony’s friends paused a moment, before picking targets of their own and joining the fray as well.

Bazzt Zzzt knew that now was the perfect time. Taking a deep breath he shouted out. “Everybody fight!”

Immediately the seaponies, diamond dogs, minotaurs, ponies, and beast folk, broke out into a free for all melee. It was pandemonium, as everyone used whatever they could find for makeshift weapons. Mugs, tent stakes, broken chairs, and even food were being used as weapons as they brawled. It wasn’t long before magic was being used, escalating the violence even further. But by then, Bazzt Zzzt was well away from the action, as he snuck away towards the edge of the camp.

Keeping his head down, he walked slowly towards his escape path, a hidden tunnel. Before he could reach its safety, he felt himself being lifted up into the air. Looking up, he was shocked to see a feathered folk holding him aloft. Knowing that he had no choice, he dropped his disguise.

Melody looked at the diamond dog in her grasp, and smiled when it revealed its true form, that of a changeling to her. “Ha, got you!” she said, with a triumphant grin.

“Youse gotz no onez,” Bazzt Zzzt said with a slight buzz, before slamming his head against her breasts making her drop him midair. As he fell, he opened his wings and headed as fast as he could towards the escape tunnel. Looking back, he saw the feathered folk trying to catch him, but at her speed wouldn’t reach him in time. He smiled in triumph as he neared the tunnel, only to be tackled from the side.

Looking up, he saw Dawson standing above him, pinning him to the ground with his knee. Struggling to free himself, the changeling transformed himself into a serpent and slipped out of Dawson’s talons. Speedily, he slithered through the tall grass to reach the safety of the tunnel, when he felt a sharp yank on his tail. Turning around, he hissed when he saw Dame Squall grabbing a hold of him.

“Stop right there, foul creature,” she commanded, holding onto the transformed changeling with all her might.

The changeling hissed once more, and then transformed into a minotaur before smashing a huge fist into her side. Knowing he didn’t have many options, Bazzt Zzzt prepared himself to fight these three until he could reach the tunnel. Bellowing a challenge at the seapony, he pounded his chest once as he backed up towards the tunnel entrance.

“You murderer!” Dame Squall shouted, while rushing at the changeling turned minotaur with a fury. “I swear I’ll end you!”

Bazzt Zzzt said nothing, instead lowered his horns in answer. Picking up several large stones by his feet, he held them menacingly at the chevaleresse, daring her to come within their reach.

Dame Squall felt like her soul was on fire, she could feel the righteous fervor of her order crying out for justice against this foul trickster. Had she been near some water, she might have used her water manipulation skills as a mean of subduing the changeling. However none was at fin, and she had foolishly left her trident behind. Knowing she had few options, she could only hope Melody and Dawson would have her back as she engaged the menacing minotaur shaped changeling.

“Little pony,” Bazzt Zzzt grunted, throwing a large stone at her. “Me gonna smash you good.”

She deftly avoided the thrown stone, and threw a hard punch at his left inner knee, hoping to slow him down.

When her gauntlet connected with his inner knee, he let out a bellow of pain before transforming back into a changeling. Back in his true form, Bazzt Zzzt yelped once before growling at the seapony.

“Meez dun likez youse,” he hissed. “In factz, meez gonna killz youse!”

Dame Squall growled in return. “Just try it vermin,” she said. “Prepare yourself to face the Lawgiver’s justice!”

Bazzt Zzzt said nothing. Instead he focused his magic inwards and began transforming. His torso and legs lengthened and thickened, while his mouth elongated and grew rows of long teeth. His blue multifaceted eyes coalesced into a pair of terrifying yellow eyes, while his black carapace split and hardened, taking on the appearance of wood. The newly born timber wolf opened its maw, revealing rows of razor sharp teeth before released a terrifying howl.

When she saw the monster before her, she paused. Although she had her armor, the timber wolf could still do some damage. As she looked at the snarling creature, all her instincts screamed run away. However, she was a chevaleresse of the Lawgiver, and had no fear of death. Refusing to back down, she steeled herself to stop this monster even if it cost her, her life.

Bazzt Zzzt prepared to devour this seapony wench who dared to interfere, when he was hit by a blast of fiery energy. Howling in pain from the fire devouring his wooden body, he reverted back to his changeling form. Looking up, he saw Melody hurl another bolt of fire as he galloped towards the only hope of escape that he had. He’d almost reached the tunnel and sweet freedom, when he was knocked to the side by a powerful gust of wind. Looking up, he saw Dawson’s talons crackling with golden magical energy as he prepared to unleash another gust of wind.

“Meez gonna killz youse,” Bazzt Zzzt weakly said, trying to find the energy to transform one more time. Weak and tired, he struggled to stand. Digging in deeply, he tapped the last of his magical reserves. Opening his mouth, he released a bone chilling howl.

Looking in alarm at the changeling’s transformation, Dawson released a gale of wind from his talons. “We’ve got to stop him quick, he’s changing into a…” he shouted to Melody and Squall.

Bazzt Zzzt’s shiny black carapace became translucent, as his body stretched and pulled. His fangs receded, while his muzzle enlarged and lengthened. Taking on the consistency of mist, his body coalesced into that of a windigos.

Realizing his warning had come too late, Dawson unleashed a flurry of kicks and punches at the changeling’s insubstantial body to no avail. Opening its muzzle, the windigo shaped changeling released a roar, covering Dawson with a sheet of ice. Seeing that he was in trouble, Melody launched a flurry of fireballs at the windigo. Roaring in pain, Bazzt Zzzt tried freezing everything he could. Trying to avert disaster, Dame Squall attempted using her water magic to combating its icy breathe, but found herself outclassed by its raw power.

Soon, all three of his would be captors were subdued by his icy howls as each of them were encased in ice. Laughing at their predicament, Bazzt Zzzt prepared to launch his final attack, a death blow to end these troublesome meddlers once and for all. Flying forward, he readied himself to shatter their icy prisons in hopes of slaying them once and for all. Before he was able to perform his coup de grace, he felt a blow of pure force hit him, sending him sprawling to the ground, making him revert back to his natural changeling state.

*****

When Dawson opened his eyes, he sat up looked around worriedly for signs of the changeling. He heard a dark chuckle echoing from behind him. “You let the changeling get away,” a menacing voice said.

“What do you mean?” Dawson asked, confused at how it had managed to escape them. “I had the changeling on the ropes.”

“While you were sleeping on the job,” the voice answered. “You’re lucky I was here, or you and your friends might have frozen to death.”

“Damn it!” Dawson cursed, angry at having lost yet another chance to prove himself to the Slave King.

“Perhaps next time you should leave it to the professionals,” the voice mocked. “I’ll bet… Ouch!”

“Cut it out Second!” Melody said, stepping out of the tall grass after having hit the doomhound on the nose.

“As you wish, Melody,” he sneered. “I shall advise the Slave King of your responsibility in this little fiasco.”

“You go ahead and do that,” she said. “I’ll make sure to tell him that the changeling was helping Sombra for some reason.”

When he heard Melody’s response, he laid his ears back. “You little…” he snarled, before regaining his composure. “Very well little bird, tell the Slave King whatever you wish.”

She gave him a hard stare. “Go on Second, leave us. That’s an order,” she said.

“As you wish harper,” he replied, before skulking away and disappearing into the tall grass of the meadow surrounding them.

Once the doomhound was gone, Melody replaced her scowl with a smile and helped both Dawson and Dame Squall to their feet. “What an unpleasant ruffian,” she said, dusting off her clothes.

“Why in Equestria, does the Slave King keep such an unsavory creature in his employ?” Dame Squall asked, shaking the frost off her armor. “He’s definitely an untrustworthy fellow.”

“He’s real good at his job,” Melody replied, checking her feathers for any icy buildup.

“What do we do now?” Dawson sighed.

“Tell the Slave King what we know,” Melody replied. When she saw his hesitancy, she gave his shoulder a small squeeze. “Don’t worry, it’ll be all right.”

“No it won’t,” Dame Squall said. “Sir Hurricane was treacherously attacked, and his assassin still roams free!”

“There’s nothing we can do,” Melody said, giving her a sympathetic look. “Hopefully Master Scourge will be able to track the changeling down before its trail runs cold.

As Melody and Dame Squall discussed the situation, Dawson walked back to camp hoping to drown his sorrows in a mug of ale before reporting his failure to the Slave King.

*****

Princess Celestia felt disturbed by this series of events. First, Lord Triton was extremely unhappy by how his champion had nearly lost his life in the contest. Second, Shadow Knight Sombra, a most distasteful stallion, had won and was free to request anything he desired from the Slave King. Third, a changeling was sighted in the camp, and had incited a riot among Lord Triton’s knights and the Slave King’s soldiers. As if all of this wasn’t bad enough, she had the sneaking suspicion that her sister Luna and Lady Zephyr were feuding with each other over the Slave King of all ponies.

“How can you ask me to allow my knights to work alongside your soldiers?” Lord Triton asked, pointing at the pitch below them. Strewn across the field were their wounded seeking medical attention, and the unconscious forms of hundreds of their soldiers and knights.

“You’re free to pull out your knights,” the Slave King said, “if you feel that working with my troops is too dangerous for your ponies.”

“No,” Lord Triton replied. “We need to amend the arrangement.”

“No, I don’t think so,” the Slave King said. “You agreed to the arrangement, and Celestia the Radiant witnessed it.”

“Gentlestallions,” Princess Celestia said, perhaps we should all take a breather. “Emotions are running hot right now, let us tend to the wounded and discuss this in the morning.”

“Very well, I agree,” Lord Triton said, excusing himself from the table. “This whole affair has fatigued me. I shall retire with my men to the beach”

“I shall seek out my son,” Lady Zephyr said, taking to the air.

“It will be dusk soon,” Princess Celestia said. “My sister will need to see to the night sky soon.”

Taking Celestia’s hint, the Slave King motioned towards his tent. “You may use my tent if you wish,” he offered.

Her face went crimson, when she heard the offer and its implications. “That’s most generous of you Slave King,” she said. “But where will you rest?”

“I have little need for sleep when the time of the Earth’s renewal approaches,” he explained. “I shall read the stars tonight. If you require anything, ask slave Gunhilde to fetch it for you.”

When Princess Luna heard the Slave King’s intentions, her heart skipped a beat. Finally, somepony who appreciated her night sky! “Slave King, we had no idea thou wert an astrologer,” she said, taking pride in his interest in her nightly duties.

“I’d prefer the title astronomer instead,” he said. “But yes, gazing at the night sky is something I do enjoy from time to time.”

“We art pleased that thou enjoyest our handiwork,” she said, pleased at his interest. “Perchance, wouldst thou care to see us construct tonight’s sky?”

“Luna the Beautiful, if that’s your desire I’d be willing to,” he replied, casting his gaze skyward.

“Then prepare to marvel at our splendor,” she said, drawing magic into her horn. Stretching out her wings to their full length, she flew into the air and lifted the moon high into the sky. Once it had reached its zenith, her eyes filled with the power of the night, and the evening sky slowly filled with thousands of twinkling stars. Each star was precisely where it was supposed to be, and even a few shooting stars streaked across the sky as she finished her task. With her calling complete, she looked down at the Slave King hoping to see he was impressed.

He had never seen either of the princesses raise their celestial body before, and he found the process rather intriguing. He wondered while looking at her, if they knew their elements as intimately as he knew the Earth. Gazing up at Princess Luna, he saw that the silvery moon seemed like a halo around her head, while the stars above wreathed her body with their brilliance. If he had to be honest, he would have to consider the sight of her raising the moon to be one of the most magnificent things he had seen during his time in Equestria. He silently wondered if he appeared as majestic during his own renewal.

“Slave King, did we shape the heavens to thy liking?” she playfully asked, hoping that he had been impressed. Usually she created the night sky quickly without much flair. However, tonight she had an audience and had wanted to dazzle him. When he didn’t respond to her inquiry, she smiled, pleased with herself. “We take it by thy silence, that thou wert pleased with our performance?”

Princess Luna’s comment had drawn the Slave King’s attention. Looking at her, he nodded once. “Yes, it was a thing of beauty,” he said. “I wonder if I appear as magnificent, when I renew the Earth.”

When she heard his compliment, her cheeks flushed crimson. Not only had he complimented her work, he had called her beautiful and magnificent as well. Landing on the ground she walked towards him. “Slave King, we thank thee for thy kind remarks,” she said, basking in all the attention she was receiving. Sitting down beside him, she looked into his luminescent green eyes. “If thou wish, we will happily watch over thee as thou renew the Earth this week, to see if thou art comely when flush with thy power.”

When he heard her offer, the deep tenor of his voice broke out in laughter. “Are you saying I’m hideous to behold?” he asked.

Realizing the implications of what she had said to him, her cheeks burned with embarrassment. “Slave King, we assure thee that we dost not think thy countenance to be hideous,” she said, hoping to recover from her blunder. “We art sure thou are quite handsome for thy kind.”

He gave her an inquisitive look. “But compared to ponies not so much?” he asked.

“Nay, tis not what we meant,” she objected, flustered that he kept turning her words against her. “We dost not think of thee as such.”

“Be at peace, Luna the Beautiful,” he replied. “I’m neither angry nor offended by your words.”

“Pray tell, why dost thou always refer to us as beautiful?” she asked.

“It’s how I learned how to speak Equestrian,” he said, looking up at the stars overhead. Looking into her teal eyes, he smiled. “Back when I was the property of the Gem Biter clan, honorifics were extremely important. So it’s how I was taught to speak.”

“Oh we see,” she said, disappointed that he didn’t really think she was beautiful.

Hearing the disappointment in her voice, the Slave King leaned back into his throne. “But Princess Luna,” he said. “I’d say the title doesn’t do you justice.”

“Slave King, forgive us for our impertinence, but might we look upon thee without thy cloak and crown?” she asked, curious as to what he looked like now after so many years had passed since his ascension to divinity.

“If it pleases you,” he said. “However I must warn you, my naked appearance is quite frightening.”

“We understand,” she said. “We thank thee for sharing this with us.”

“You shared a piece of yourself with me,” he replied, removing his cloak from his shoulders and iron crown from his head. “It’s only fitting I share a piece of myself with you.”

When she saw him, he looked much different than she was accustomed to. Beneath his cloak, his pallid flesh was covered with numerous scars and lacerations, a testament to prior life as a diamond dog slave. Across his chest was a vicious looking scar, she remembered that it was self-inflicted when he’d first become a deity to escape her sister’s judgment. On both his shoulders were his brands, bearing the mark of his former masters and his enslavement. His false metal arm dully reflected the nearby firelight, but was tarnished from daily use. When she studied his face, things weren’t any more pleasant. His nose had been repeatedly broken and never properly set, so it was at a crooked angle. Across his face, he carried the scars of one who had been badly burned, and his mouth was missing several teeth.

When he saw that Princess Luna wasn’t speaking, he moved to put his crown and cloak back on. “It’s no shame to dislike what you see,” he said, as the green fire in his eyes turned to glowing embers. “Why else do you think I made a crown that covers my face?”

“Despite thy abhorrent practice of slavery,” she said, using her magic to stop him, “we think thou hast a noble spirit within thee. Thou aren’t quite the heartless beast thou woulds’t wish others believe thee to be.”

When he heard her remarks, they took him by surprise. Compared to most of the pantheon he could be considered fairly monstrous. Most of his practices were considered barbaric and strongly condemned by some of the more enlightened deities, with her as one of his loudest critics. Yet she just admitted that she thought he had a sliver of nobility in him, however small it might be. The irony of it all made him want to laugh once more.

“If I didn’t know any better,” he said, giving her a bemused look, “I would say you were flirting with me.”

When she heard his accusation, she shook her head in denial furiously. “Nay, Slave King,” she said, lowering her ears against her head. “We just wanted thee to know, thou needn’t playeth the villain, it thou desireth something better instead.”

Looking up into the night sky, he stared at the moon. “What is it that you desire?” he plainly asked her.

When she heard the question, Princess Luna didn’t quite know how to respond. Of course, the proper answer would be for him to accept harmony, and to stop all of his terrible practices. However, part of her found the prospect of thousands, each bowing and scraping to her every whim enticing. With somepony like the Slave King under her thrall, all her desires no matter how improper could become reality. If her ponies couldn’t be bothered to appreciate all she did for them, surely the inhabitants of another domain might. All she would have to do is convince the Slave King, and she would be a queen, worshiped by all!

“Our night is sometimes so lonely…” she sighed, looking up at heavens.

“What of your sister?” he asked, resting his crown in his lap. “Surely she provides you all the company you could desire?”

“Our sister tries, but she could never comprehend…” she answered, gazing up at the Pole Star. When he didn’t answer, she touched his hand with her hoof. “We think that thou mayest understand what we mean.”

“Yes, the solitude of the night. I enjoy its peace,” he said, looking at her for a moment before returning his gaze to the stars overhead. “Perhaps…”

Before the he could finish his sentence, a harried looking Harmony approached his throne. “Slave King,” she said, not acknowledging that her king was bereft of his cloak and crown. “I have urgent news.”

The Slave King placed the pelt of Darkpaw back on his shoulders, and rested his heavy iron crown on his head. Immediately the green fire in his eyes flared to life. “Princess Luna,” he said, gesturing towards his tent, “please excuse us. I have matters of state to attend to.”

“Slave King, we understand. We thank thee for sharing the eventide with us,” she said, excusing herself from his presence.

As she trotted towards his tent to join her sister, Princess Luna smiled. When she entered the tent, she saw her sister lying on a large cushion.

“So Luna how was your liaison with the Slave King?” Princess Celestia teased, motioning for her to join her. “Will the harpers commit your courtship to song?”

“Celestia, we would hardly call a simple conversation courtship,” she replied with a slight smile, before sitting down beside her.

“So what did you discover about him,” Princess Celestia asked, wanting to learn more about the Slave King.

“Only that he thinks we art beautiful and magnificent,” she boasted, giving her sister a playful grin.

“Oh Luna, it seems the Slave King has piqued your interest,” Princess Celestia replied, resting her head against her sister’s neck.

“We do admit he has a certain charm to him,” she said, looking out the tent towards the Slave King’s throne.

Princess Celestia smiled when she saw her sister’s longing. She had been worried that she might rebuff her plan when she presented it to her. “I’m glad you had such an enjoyable time Luna,” she said. “Perhaps you might wish to pursue him further?”

“We do not know. We have not yet decided, whether we shall seek after him further,” she answered, sinking into the cushion. “Mayhaps, we might deign to seek his company in the future.”

“There’s always his five hundredth inaugural celebration,” Princess Celestia suggested. “But if you fail to make your move soon, one of the others might. Lady Minoa especially, I’ve heard rumors she covets his crown.”

When she heard her mention that heifer, Princess Luna snorted derisively. “Lady Minoa?” she asked. “Surely you jest sister, she’s nothing more than a wildling. The Slave King is somepony who respects grace and intellect more than mere brute strength.”

“Is that jealousy I hear?” Princess Celestia asked, suppressing a yawn.

“We refuse to entertain thy silly notions any longer!” Princess Luna huffed, fighting her sister for a greater share of the cushion.

Princess Celestia nibbled on her sister’s ear affectionately before closing her eyes. “Good night little sister,” she said, using her magic to dim the lamp inside the tent.

Normally she wouldn’t be sleeping so early, but Princess Luna had been awakened much earlier than she was accustomed to. Deciding that she might take a short nap, she looked out at the tent towards the Slave King who was still in discussion with his mage, and wondered what he dreamed of before drifting off to sleep.

*****

The great doomhound paced back and forth in front of his frightened subordinate and rather bored looking hireling. “You idiots nearly ruined everything!” he growled, casting a baleful burning eye on both of them.

“But Master Second, I won the contest didn’t I?” Sombra said, trying to shift the blame away from himself.

“You nearly killed the seapony, you imbecile!” Second roared, frustrated that his carefully laid out plot had almost been undone by underlings clumsiness. “The Slave King, will start keeping a watchful eye on you now.”

Bazzt Zzzt smirked at the berated unicorn. The changeling couldn’t fathom why Second was accepting such feeble excuses. In the hive, if a changeling outlived their usefulness drones were immediately replaced. “Shall I’ze eliminatez himz for hiz incompetenze?” he buzzed with anticipation, hoping for a chance to use his more practical skills.

“You should eliminate yourself, after botching the job,” Second raged.

“Ize didn’tz botchz nothinz,” he objected. “Ize didz jobz az plannedz, Ize madez surez unicornz winz.”

“You were discovered,” Second countered, glaring at the changeling with his burning eyes.

“Ize discovered, Ize takes carez of ze problemz permanentzly,” Bazzt Zzzt said, flashing his fangs evilly for Second to see. “Whyz youse stopz meez fromz eliminatez ze problemz?”

“Because then I would have to produce the corpse of the changeling who killed Lady Zephyr and Lady Suzaku’s children and Lord Triton’s chevaleresse,” Second answered, opening his maw wide to reveal his razor sharp fangs.

“Ize seez youse pointz,” Bazzt Zzzt said, placing his hoof against his muzzle thoughtfully before transforming into a diamond dog. ‘Shall I procure your changeling assassin for you?”

When he heard Bazzt Zzzt’s plan, Second chuckled evilly. “Grub, I like how you think,” he said.

“As long as I get paid, I could care less if you like me or not,” Bazzt Zzzt said, turning to exit the tent. “I shall return by sunrise with the changeling responsible for interfering with the Slave King’s contest.”

“Good, I shall alert my superiors,” Second said, before focusing his anger back on Sombra. “You are to avoid any further complications, I expect you to ask for your boon and start overseeing the crystal mines as quickly as possible.”

“Yes master,” Sombra said. He would be glad once he was away from Second’s watchful eye, and running things for himself. Though the one thing he couldn’t decipher about the plan was why anypony should care about some worthless crystal mines all the way near Winter. “Master Second, what makes the mines so valuable?”

When he heard the question, he scowled. Sombra was definitely too smart for his own good. It would only be a matter of time before he would become unmanageable, and needed to be dealt with. In truth, Second had no idea why the Slave King valued the mines so much. All he knew was that the Slave King received monthly shipments of the things for his workshop beneath the ruins of the Diamond Vale, and considered them so important that he blessed the pony tribe working with him with a mark of power. As long as the crystal pony tribe continued shipping the crystals, they were protected from any harm.

“Sombra, you needn’t concern yourself with the why,” Second said, towering over the much smaller unicorn, and hoping to relieve his subordinate of any mutinous ideas. “You simply need to do as instructed, and enjoy the rewards of serving me.”

“What should I do with the excess crystals?” Sombra said, trying to learn as much as he could from his reticent superior.

“Stockpile them,” Second replied, “somehound will be sent to collect them at the appropriate time.”

“Very well, as you wish master,” Sombra said before exiting the tent.

Once he was alone in his tent, Second carved a summoning circle into the earth beneath his paws. Uttering a series of guttural growls and whines, the runes encircling the circle began glowing blood red. Slowly the terrifying visage of his master appeared before him as the earth inside the circle took shape. Terrified, he lowered his head and hid beneath his paws. “I have succeeded in my task,” he said, hoping that the monster before him wouldn’t be displeased with him.

The thing displayed inside the circle looked down at the trembling doomhound, and smiled revealing its large tusks. The lighting inside the tent wasn’t the best, but the lamps inside cast heavy shadows over its dark red skin. Its glowing red eyes, each as large as a dinner plate, cast an appraising look at its pawn. Slowly, it rubbed its left hand thoughtfully beneath its jutting chin. On each of its five fingers were claws, each of which was cruel and terrible to behold. Jutting out from its thick mane of wiry black hair, were two cruel and twisting horns. As it exhaled, thick black smoke exited out of its nostrils, while it ran its forked tongue along its many sharp teeth.

“Good. You have pleased me,” the image said. “Are there any loose ends?”

“Only two others know of the plan master, and both have limited knowledge of what it entails,” he said, sure that nohound could even suspect the gravity of what he was plotting.

“Excellent,” the image rumbled, happy that its plan was safe from being discovered by anyone for now. “Make sure it stays that way. And when it comes time to finish things, I’ll expect that you know what needs to be done.”

“Yes master,” Second said with fear and trembling in his voice. Refusing to look up at the beast that was before him, he hid his head behind his paws and trembled as he waited for his master to dismiss him. “Do you have another task for me?”

“Yes,” the image said. “When Celestia makes her move, ensure the Slave King is unable to decline her invitation.”

“It shall be as you command, master,” Second replied.

“I am close to achieving total victory over the pantheon. Second, do not fail me,” the image commanded, before collapsing back into the earth.

Once his master’s image had retreated back into the earth, Second destroyed the summoning circle and involuntarily shivered, relieved that such a terrifying moment had passed. He couldn’t remember when he first decided to betray the Slave King, but the terrifying memory of when he was first visited by his dark master would be indelibly imprinted in his mind, never to be forgotten. His master’s dark purpose was inside him now, gnawing away at his soul, driving him ever forward. The terror and fear he felt in ever failing his master compelled him to complete his tasks without fail. Now completely under his master’s thrall, there was no depth to which he would not sink, no depravity he would not commit, and no evil he would shun if his master willed it.

Feeling safe from his master’s fearsome presence, Second derisively sneered, and exited out of the tent. While walking to meet with the Slave King, he stopped to get a roasted chicken and a mug of ale. Sating his hunger and thirst, he laughed to himself as he thought about how he would soon be free to do as he wished. Once his master’s plan had come to fruition, he would no longer be under Scourge’s watchful eye. Looking towards the hill where the Slave King’s throne sat, he wondered what Celestia would say if she knew she would be responsible for his master’s release.

There will be time enough to philosophize, he thought to himself, as he climbed up the hill. But first, I need to reassure the Slave King that I have everything under control.

*****

Aria was busy keeping the peace between the Slave King’s forces and Lord Triton’s knights when she saw her sister Melody walking alongside a seapony mare and an unfamiliar feathered folk. Deciding to see what sort of mischief her sister had been getting up to, she extended her wings and flew towards them.

“Ugh, I’ve never felt so cold in my entire life!” Melody said with a shiver. “I never knew they could change into so many different things.”

“Never knew who could change into so many different things?” Aria said to her sister, as she landed in front of them.

“Oh just changelings,” Melody replied, giving her sister an innocent smile.

“What about them?” Aria said, narrowing her eyes at the mention of the Slave King’s enemies. “Melody, what exactly have you been up to?”

“Oh just a little bit of recreational espionage with my two friends,” she replied, wrapping her arms around Dawson’s and Squall’s shoulders.

“Awful strange company you keep these days sister,” Aria said, looking into Dawson’s brown eyes as she gave his shemagh covered face a curious glance. “I’m curious who this feathered folk really is.”

“Oh his name is Dustin, and beneath the mask he’s a rather handsome fella,” Melody cheerfully replied, while giving her sister a conspiratorial wink. “He’s just come back from scouting the eastern boarders.”

“Melody, it’s rather curious why I’ve never heard of him,” Aria said, playing with her red plumage.

“Well you know Aria… He’s spent most of his time you know, scouting the fire fields, looking for dragon gem raiders and stuff,” she weakly replied, giving her sister a cheeky grin.

“Dragon gem raiders?” Aria said, her tone indicating that she didn’t believe the lie for a moment.

Melody placed a finger gently against her dainty chin and smiled at her elder sister. “Alright Aria, I’ll come clean,” she said, dramatically grasping Dawson’s talon with her hand and clasping it to her breast. “Dustin here is my lover, but don’t go telling king daddy. He’ll be furious when he learns that we’ve decided to elope together to escape his wrath.”

“Lovers?” both Dawson and Dame Squall asked simultaneously.

Melody arched her brow haughtily at Squall in response. “Hey, you should’ve moved in on this dreamboat when you still had the chance,” she said, giving Dawson a sultry look and caressing her hand against his down covered cheek. “But don’t say a word my love. I know I promised I wouldn’t say anything, but my sister Aria has forced my hand.”

Aria just rolled her eyes at her sister’s antics. Ripping off Dawson’s shemagh, she was surprised to see that he was no feathered folk. “Melody, what game are you playing at?” she demanded, reaching for her knife.

Sensing he was in danger, Dawson’s eyes scanned his surroundings looking for a makeshift weapon he could use to defend himself. “I’m just a simple soldier,” he answered, preparing to leap towards a piece of firewood he spotted that would serve as a makeshift club.

Dame Squall thinking things might get a bit sketchy, prepared to defend her allies. Even if they were just a bunch of mudslingers, she still owed them for aiding her in her pursuit of the changeling assassin. Deciding she was in too deep to side against Dawson and Melody, she reaching out with her magic and found the perfect elemental weapon to use, a nearby pot full of bubbling stew.

Seeing that Squall and Dawson were preparing to defend themselves, Aria released her innate fire magic as she drew her knife, leaving a trail of flames behind as she made the first strike against those she thought might be her enemy.

Without missing a beat, Dawson leapt out of the way when he saw Aria’s tendons tighten. When the piece of firewood was within reach, he grabbed it as he rolled out of the way to recover into a low fighting stance. With the sturdy piece of wood in his talons, he raised it defensively as he waited for her next move.

When Squall noticed that Dawson leapt to the side, she immediately pulled the stew out of the pot and used it to block what she surmised would be Aria’s first angle of attack. Just as she expected, the knife met struck against the stew shield. However, she was unprepared for the flames that accompanied the attack.

“You’re strong for a mudslinger,” she stammered, struggling desperately to hold back the flaming knife with her meager stew shield.

Seeing how skillfully they had avoided her attack, Aria lowered her weapon. Wiping the remnants of the stew still on her blade, she sheathed her knife. “Melody, tell me true,” she said, resting her hand against her hip. “Just who are they really, and why are you lying to me about them?”

“It seems I can’t hide anything from you sister,” Melody said with an impish smile. “This is Dawson the griffin-half, son of Lady Zephyr, and our brother.”

When she heard that he was her brother, she felt the jealous sting of envy pierce her heart. She had often surmised the reason for her father’s dismissal of her, was that she was born female. It was the reason why she’d pursued the warrior’s path under the tutelage of Master Scourge, and why she fought so hard for the Slave King. She had seen how her father had applauded his performance today, and it hurt her deeply. Not once in nearly a decade had he ever bothered to applaud her skill with the bow. Now this griffin-half shows and had managed to win her father’s favor in less than a day! She felt the resentment she had for him, burn in her bosom as she thought how easily it would be to snuff him out.

Anger had always been something she had struggled with. Some days, it seemed like her constant companion. She would feel anger at never being good enough for the Slave King, for not being as beautiful as her sister Melody, for not being the favored daughter like Harmony. She could still remember Master Scourge’s gentle reproach to her all those years ago…

*****

“My pupil, what ails you so?” Scourge asked her, as he watched Aria place several strikes against a practice dummy.

“It’s not fair master!” she shouted, striking the wooden target as hard as could, shattering its wooden into pieces.

“What’s not fair?” he replied, seemingly oblivious to her fury. “Remember to strike the target with smooth flowing motions, like water over rocks.”

“The Slave King gave Harmony a gift for her birthday last night!” she said, furiously hacking away at another practice dummy.

“If I recall it was a new cloak and broach bearing the seal of the Earth,” he said, circling her as he appraised her form. “Aria, make sure to use your hips when you strike, you lose striking power otherwise.”

“Of course Master Scourge, forgive me,” she said, calming down slightly as she used her hips on the next strike.

“Good my pupil, see how much deeper you were able to cut on the downward stroke?” he said, pointing towards the deep gash on the dummy.

“I’ll make sure to remember to keep using my hips for the rest of today’s training,” she said, assuming a ready stance as she prepared to execute more strikes against the practice dummy.

“I think you’ve practiced enough for one day. Would you care to join me for a walk my pupil,” he invited, patiently waiting by the door for her to join him.

She was about to say something before seeing the look on her master’s face. “As you wish master,” she said, acquiescing to his request. Carefully, she returned her training blade to its place on the weapons rack hanging from the wall. Looking back at the practice dummies in the training room, she could see what her anger had left behind. One was in pieces, while the other was threatening to fall apart. Wiping away the accumulated sweat on her forehead with a nearby rag, she joined her waiting master.

Walking together in silence they passed through the broken buildings of the Diamond Vale, she could hear the wind’s lonely howls echoing through the ruined city. Looking up, she saw the sun streaming down through the broken lava dome overhead, casting the only cheerful light this dismal place ever saw. Most found the old city a frightening place, but she thought of it as a kindred spirit. Even though it was all alone in the world, like her it was somefeather that still stood strong.

“My pupil,” Scourge said, breaking the silence. “I sense something troubles your heart. Your form while practicing today was quite poor.”

“I beg your forgiveness master,” she said, lowering her head and feeling ashamed that she had displeased him.

“Be at ease little pup,” he warmly replied, giving her a kind smile. “What bothers you so?”

She wanted to answer, but didn’t know quite where to begin. She could feel her emotional turmoil bubbling beneath the surface, threatening to escape her eyes. Inwardly, she chanted, Be strong Aria, be strong, as her eyes began watering.

“Master Scourge, why has he never given me anything?” she asked, turning away from the doomhound and clenching her fists. “Am I not worthy like my sisters?”

“I don’t know little pup,” he answered as truthfully as he could. “It’s not my place to know my king’s mind.”

“Does he hate me?” she asked, desperate for an answer, while shaking slightly as she tried hiding her face from him beneath her hands. Looking at both of them, she counted her fingers. Ten, just like the Slave King had, the man who never once acknowledged her as his.

“Would somehound, who hated you, invite you into his home?” he asked.

“Why doesn’t he love me?” she wept, tightly embracing him as her tears fell on his arcanum armor.

“All parents love their children,” he replied, comforting his weeping pupil as best he could.

“I’m just an obligation to him aren’t I,” she seethed, outraged with the injustice of it all. “I bet he wishes he could send me off to the enclave so he could be rid of me once and for all.”

“My pupil, we have little say about the life we are born into,” he said, looking into her reddened eyes. “But we do have the choice of how we choose to live that life. Look at Lady Nightmare for example.”

When Aria heard him say that name, she froze. That shadow beast was definitely one of her least favorite beings. Nightmare always glared hatefully at her from besides the Slave King’s throne when she came to visit him. Looking up, she wiped the tears from her eyes and saw her stalking through the shadows of a nearby ruined building. She watched as Nightmare’s black form melted effortlessly into the shadows, leaving only her red eyes to be seen. Looking into those red pools of rage, she involuntarily shuddered before turning away.

“Little pup, Lady Nightmare has been for these past five centuries a most miserable creature,” he instructed her. “She only knows rage and cruelty. Don’t let her fate be yours.”

“But the Slave King…” Aria objected.

“Whenever you feel upset, come to me little pup,” he said. “Together, we’ll learn patience. In time, you will know the truth of my words.”

“Thank you Master Scourge,” she said, giving his armor a squeeze.

“Whatever else happens my pupil, remember this, I love you little pup,” he affectionately said, motioning for her to return with him to the palace.

*****

Remembering what Master Scourge had told her all those years ago, made her stay her hand. It wasn’t Dawson’s fault that she had failed to reach the Slave King yet. Patience, I must be patient, she said to herself. “Melody,” she said “that he’s our brother doesn’t tell me why he was wearing a disguise, and why you’re gallivanting about with one of Lord Triton’s stooges.”

“Hey!” Dame Squall objected, unhappy about the insult. “I’m no stooge. I’m a chevaleresse of the Lawgiver, and I won’t stand idly by when somepony insults my liege, the order, or my honor.”

“Alright, I’ll tell you the truth,” Melody said. “Somefeather is plotting against the Slave King. We discovered a changeling interfering in the final match, allowing Shadow Knight Sombra to win.”

When she heard his name, she knew Second must be involved somehow. That doomhound had a coterie of followers, and Sombra was the biggest suck up of them all. Deciding Master Scourge would know what to do, she decided to take charge. “We must tell Master Scourge immediately,” she said.

“No, the Slave King needs to be told first,” Melody said, correcting her sister. “This plot concerns another domain.”

“Very well,” Aria agreed, "I’ll advise Master Scourge to speak with you once you’ve told the Slave King everything.”

As they walked up the hill to speak with him, she wondered what Second was plotting. Perhaps it was simply a matter of not wanting the Lawgiver to win. Even if the doomhound was a shady mongrel, he had no love for the seaponies. And then there was the troubling news that a changeling had been involved somehow, whenever they showed up trouble invariably followed. Deciding to wait until she had more information, she held her tongue as they approached the Slave King’s throne. Though it was dark, she could see his burning green eyes.

“What’s going on Melody?” an angry sounding Harmony asked her sister. “I heard you nearly got killed by a changeling.”

“Yes little bird, tell them what’s going on,” Second said, approaching them from behind. “Best stop dawdling, the Slave King waits.”

Refusing to pay any attention to him, Melody, Dawson, and Dame Squall approached the throne. Snickering at them once before walking away, Second melted into the shadows. Knowing that he was up to no good, Aria took to the sky looking for Master Scourge. He would know what they should do.

Looking down at the three unlikely companions standing before him, the Slave King gave them a cursory glance before addressing them “So can anyone tell me what happened?”

Author's Note

Thank you gentlereader for reading chapter six of The Book of Water: The Marriage of the Slave King, as always comments are appreciated. This release is my Christmas gift to you, enjoy with my compliments. Until next time!

As an aside chapter seven is still being written, and I can't guarantee any more weekly updates, but will endeavor to try to keep up. once again thank you for reading.

Chapter 14: For Whom the Bell Tolls: Part IV: You Only Keep, What You Can Catch

The Book of Water: The Marriage of the Slave King

A Story by TalonMach5

Chapter 14: For Whom the Bell Tolls: Part IV: You Only Keep, What You Can Catch

He laid upon the cold unyielding gold and gems of his treasury, spent and exhausted, between the soft femininity of the goddesses of the Lunar Council. Though what had happened between them might be considered akin to an orgy, what he’d experienced with them hadn’t been physical. He looked up, and saw Celestia’s benevolent eyes looking down at him. Seeing that he was awake now, she smiled, and affectionately nuzzled him.

“Do you need further convincing, of the purity of our intentions?” she asked, offering him a gentle smile, as the others giggled together.

Breathing in deeply, he smelt the lovely perfume they wore. Exhaling, he shook his head no. Finally free of the burning lust and desire that had been clouding his mind, he considered the Lunar Council’s proposal to him. Each goddess in turn, had been given an opportunity to convince him of the virtue of selecting them, over their sisters. Though the minor deities had pledged to love and serve him faithfully as his wife, beyond their promises of affection, they offered him nothing beneficial.

Looking at, Lady Minoa, he considered what she’d promised him. While caressing him with her hands, she’d told him, he’d never want for pleasure ever again. She’d told him, that her strength would be his to command, and as long as he warmed her bed at night, she desired nothing more from him. Though he was sure she had no hidden agenda to force her will upon him, physically, he could do nothing to stop her if she so desired. As her mate, he would always be at her mercy.

Gazing at, Lady Suzaku’s, loveliness and great beauty, she’d promised him the freedom to take as many lovers as he desired, deity or mortal alike. She promised him children as numerous as the stars, and would use her influence in the Domain of Fire, to shield him from any future plots from Lord Ouroboros. She’d held him gently, and whispered her great love for him, and only asked that he try returning her feelings for him. Though there was no doubt in his mind, that her promises were made without guile or deceit, she’d already deceived him once before. And though it’d resulted in the feathered folk tribe, who’d been a great aid to him. There was no telling what her love for him, might compel her to try in the future.

He heard, Lady Zephyr, singing softly to him. Seeing that she’d finally captured his attention, she smiled and continued serenading him. Of all his suitors, he had the greatest connection to her. She was his elemental opposite. As a result, he’d little choice but to burn with desire for her, as greatly as hers burned for him. He thought back to their battle in the spirit realm, and smiled. An eternal struggle against his opposite, he strangely found very appealing. She’d promised him, that they’d rule together as equals. Her sky would cover and protect him, while his earth would provide her succor and a place of refuge. But thinking of Dawson, he wondered what other surprises she might offer him, in order to secure his affection.

Then finally, there was Princess Luna. He’d originally contemplated making Celestia his wife, but discounted that idea almost immediately. It was because of her plotting and scheming, that he was being forced to marry in the first place. For all he knew, that was her true intention all along. When he’d asked her what kind of wife she’d be, she’d told him, that as head of the Lunar Council, in the interest of fairness, she was ineligible to be his wife. But had offered, that if he still desired her after his allotted time was completed, she might be willing then.

Considering Luna, he realized he knew very little about her. Beyond sharing that night beneath the moon together, their race to Darkpaw’s Temple, and the kiss she’d stolen from him, he’d had very little interaction with her. He thought back to the first time he’d met her. He’d been a mess, nearly naked, save for the rags he’d had on his back, and covered in Lord Darkpaw’s blood. She’d looked down on him, the abhorrence she held for him then, was clearly reflected in her turquoise eyes.

She’d demanded then, that he be banished for his behavior, and had been instrumental in the measure passing. Then, when she and Celestia had confronted him regarding the famine he’d caused in his madness, she’d looked at him contemptuously for his behavior. Not that he blamed her for it, he’d been rather monstrous and cruel at first. Then, he considered the fateful moot that had decided his fate. Rather than denouncing him like some of the others had, she’d requested that he be given a chance to redeem himself.

He’d often wondered, what exactly had made her into an ally, albeit temporary. Though at the time, he’d considered it was somehow due to Jormungandr’s machinations. But now, for some unknown reason, she seemed to desire him as dearly as all the rest. Though he somewhat knew the reasons behind why the others desired him. Hers, baffled him.

True, he had immense wealth and power at his disposal. But Luna, was only second to Celestia in power on the pantheon; and as the mistress of the Shadow Domain, she was within her rights to demand tithes from those subservient to her. But as long as he’d been Lord of Earth, she’d never made that demand of him. But thinking back to what Lord Triton had told him earlier that week, he realized that what he’d said was true, “Who can possibly know the mind of a mare?”

“So, Slave King, have you made your decision yet?” Princess Celestia asked him, laying her head down on his shoulder.

“Yes, I have,” he replied, as he devised the perfect revenge against her for her scheming.

“Then tell us,” she said, hoping her plans for the Slave King and her sister would finally come to fruition.

Though he was being forced to marry, he’d been granted the privilege to choose his own bride, carte blanche. He was certain that Celestia had been subtly manipulating him into making the choice she wanted. Knowing his judgment in this case was suspect, he made the only choice that no one could predict.

“Since each of you beautiful ladies are so lovely and desirable, and I can’t possess each of you,” he said with a wry smile, to the delight of the goddesses all around him. “I’ll let chance decide my fate.”

“What?” Celestia asked in disbelief, shocked that he’d let such an important choice be decided at random.

“I’m sure Discord would approve,” he said, with a chuckle, much to her annoyance.

“How do you propose to pick your wife by chance?” she asked, unhappy that all her planning had just gone out the window.

“Easy,” he said, leaping to his feet and running away. Giving each of the goddesses a roguish grin, he held out his hands. “Here in the Earth, we take what we want. Whoever manages to catch me, keeps me!”

“Slave King, wait!” Celestia called out, as he laughed at her and jumped into a nearby treasure pile.

Almost immediately, the various goddesses of the pantheon were scrambling after him, shoving each other, and digging deeply into the treasure pile, as they tried catching him before any of the others could.

Huffing in annoyance, Celestia stamped her hoof in frustration. Even in defeat, the Slave King had managed to unravel all her carefully laid out plans for him. She only hoped, that he’d be happy with whoever it was that would finally managed to capture him. Truly, Lord Triton had been correct in his estimation of the Slave King’s unpredictability. Once again, he’d somehow managed to twist things to his own advantage.

Looking at her sister, who wore a worried look on her face due to her stiff competition, she wished her luck on her hunt. As she frantically thought about how she might be able to salvage this disaster.

*****

She felt so cold and tired, only the warmth of the strong arms holding her, was keeping her awake. She longed to rest, but every time she was about to drift off to sleep, she felt somepony gently slapping her, keeping her awake. She couldn’t understand, why they kept waking her up. Didn’t they know how tired she was?

“Stay with me,” a somewhat familiar male voice commanded. She knew the voice’s owner somehow. Who it was, she wasn’t sure, but part of her wanted to stay awake, so she could keep listening to him.

In the distance, she heard the heavy thud of footsteps, against stone. Whoever it was, they must have been in a hurry, because they were making quite a racket. She wondered what was so important to them, that made them run like a kraken was after them.

“Tilt her head back, so she can drink this!” she heard somepony say, in a voice laced with concern and carrying a hint of fear.

She felt somepony gently tilting back her head and opening her mouth. Moments later, she felt a cool liquid passing her lips and wetting her tongue. Though she’d couldn’t place the taste, as she drank the unknown liquid, she felt herself being revitalized and replenished. Inhaling deeply, she caught a familiar scent. It reminded her of black and blue feathers, and warm brown eyes. She rested in the arms cradling her, and felt safe and warm.

“I think she’ll be all right,” she heard somepony say, seemingly happy and relieved now.

“Are you able to open your eyes?” she heard him ask.

When she heard his concern for her, she smiled and sank deeper into those strong arms. Opening her eyes, all she could see was a dark blur over her. She felt a gentle hand touching her brow, and felt oddly comforted.

“Let’s give her some more of the draught,” somepony else said, as more of that wonderful liquid entered her mouth. Like the first dose before it, the second strengthened and renewed her. She no longer felt so lethargic, instead, she felt as if she take all Equestria on by herself. Blinking a few times, she found her blurry vision focus, and saw Dawson looking down at her with concern on his face.

“I’m so glad you’re all right,” he said, helping her stand, until her innate magical bubble could kick in.

She sighed in disappointment, as those warm, strong arms let go of her. Looking up at him, she smiled. “I guess you managed to get help in time,” she said, brushing away one of her violet locks from her face.

“No,” Dawson replied, showing her a long bladed knife. “Aria, came to as we were fleeing. She managed to mention her knife was arcanum, before she passed out again.”

Realizing he’d come back for her, she looked at him curiously. “You shouldn’t have come back for me,” she chided, squeezing his talon gently with her fin. “Lady Zephyr, would’ve been heartbroken if you’d been killed.”

“I had to come back for you,” he said, smiling as he remembered what his mother had told him the day before.

“And why is that?” she asked, looking into his warm eyes.

“Something’s are worth holding on to,” he answered, helping steady her as her magic bubble formed.

Melody wore a wide grin as she saw them together. Oh, how sweet! she inwardly squealed, while wishing somefeather would risk life and limb for her.

Aria approached them, and held out her hand. “I guess I owe you two my life,” she sedately said, not sure how she felt about Dawson. If what Melody claimed was true, he was their half-brother. She’d always wished she’d been born male, maybe if she’d been his son, her father would’ve wanted her. But now that he had a son, maybe he’d no longer want her leading the Shadow Wings into battle.

Dawson grabbed her hand, and firmly shook it. “I think we’re even,” he said, handing the long knife back to her. “If you hadn’t mentioned your knife was arcanum, I don’t think Dame Squall would’ve made it.”

Wiping the blade off on her tunic, she slid it back inside its sheath. “Dawson, I’m sorry for attacking you earlier,” she said, placing her hands behind her, as she tried apologizing for her hostile behavior.

“Water under the bridge,” he said, wiping his brow with his sleeve. “How in the world did that thing even get in here?”

“I’m not sure,” Aria said, trying to remember events leading up to its attack on her. “I remember getting ready to make my rounds, and speaking with Master Scourge about something, but anything beyond that is a blur.”

“I wonder where he is,” Melody said, concerned that nofeather had seen hide nor hair of him in hours.

Concentrating hard, Aria tried remembering what she’d discussed with him. Remembering her tears, her eyes went wide with shock, when she remembered what he’d told her. “We need to warn the Slave King!” she said.

“Why?” Melody asked, wondering what could be so urgent that they needed to interrupt him during his business with the pantheon.

“I think Master Scourge, is about to betray him,” she said, running towards the nearest wall gem she could find.

“Oh, my gosh!” Harmony cried out, as her wings extended in shock at the revelation. “Dawson, take Dame Squall back to the dining hall. It’ll be safer there.”

Dawson nodded in agreement, as he and Dame Squall headed back to the dining hall.

“Oh dear, oh dear. What should I do?” she said, nervously pacing back and forth. “Aha, I got it! Harmony, she’ll know what do.”

Rushing to find her sister, she didn’t notice a large doomhound and his mirror opposite, minus his left eye, watching from the shadows as she ran past. The doomhound, nodded once to his companion, before fading into the shadows. His doppelganger, narrowed his eyes in anger before following suit.

*****

Sliding across the vast piles of treasure, he moved like freshly fallen snow blowing across a frozen lake. Try as they might, his pursuers couldn’t quite catch him. He’d always slow down enough, to make them think he was within reach before diving back into the mountains of gold, only to pop out elsewhere moments later. Leading them on a merry little chase, his laughter echoed throughout the vault.

“Come now!” the Slave King called out, leaping from one great pile to the next. “How do any of you expect to drag me to the altar, if you can’t even keep up with me?”

Snorting in annoyance at his antics, Lady Minoa picked up a heavy treasure laden chest and flung it at him with all her might, hoping to stun him. Seeing the metal chest rushing to meet him, he dug deep into the Earth with his feet, made a fist with his metal hand, and punched it as hard as he could. The resulting explosion, sent gold and gems flying like shrapnel everywhere. In a panic, most of the goddess pursuing him scattered as they tried avoiding being hit.

Feeling victorious, he pointed at Lady Minoa and smirked. “Is that the best you’ve got, I’ve… ack!” he cried out, as Lady Zephyr nearly snagged him with her claws.

Fortunately for him, he saw her shadow at the last minute and slipped inside the treasure pile he was standing on. Unhappy at being denied her prey, Lady Zephyr screeched her disappointment and circled above, looking for another chance to nab him unawares.

Seeing her friend narrowly miss capturing him, Lady Suzaku knew exactly what needed to be done. “Zephy love,” she said, gliding next to her. “Allow me to flush him out!”

“Alright, Zuzu,” she replied, having a good idea what she was planning on doing. “But don’t expect me to let up, I’m planning on catching him for myself!”

Lady Suzaku gave her friend a playful wink. “Zephy love, I know you are, but so am I!” she cried out, as flames overtook her. Dive bombing into the great pile of gold, flames erupted from the golden treasure, as the shadows the Slave King had been using evaporated under their brilliant light.

Moments later, the Slave King reappeared outside of the flame’s reach. Though they burned brightly, the flames were magical and cast no heat. He saw Lady Suzaku giving him a come hither look she’d always given him back when they were lovers, making him smile at the fond memory. He motioned to her with his hand for her to continue the chase, as he ran away from her approaching flames.

Rejoining her magical fire, she reached out for him as her flames relentlessly pursued him, no matter where he went. She smiled, when she saw that he’d have nowhere else to go soon.

Enjoying their chase, and impressed with her great cleverness, the Slave King released a joyous laugh. Slamming his fist into the treasure at his feet, he rocketed into the air, and away from Lady Suzaku’s gentle outstretched wings. Landing against the ceiling, she saw to her disappointment, he was standing on the ceiling above her, out of the reach of her flames entirely.

“A clever trick, my lady,” he said with a bow, before running away from her. “But you’ll have to do better than that, if you wish to claim my hand in marriage!”

Having seen his playful side once again, after it’d been absent for so many years, sent her heart all a flutter. Yearning to hold him once more, she vowed to capture his heart no matter what. “You’ll be mine once again, my love!” she shouted, launching herself into the air to resume her pursuit.

Though he was safely out of range from many of the goddesses still pursuing him, both Princess Luna and Lady Zephyr, were chasing after him from below, as he ran along the vault’s ceiling. Here, he was at a serious disadvantage. No longer able to jump like he could along the ground, he was forced to use the ceiling to create obstacles to hinder his pursuers. Dashing back and forth, he reached out with his magic, creating columns and walls to block them as they attempted grabbing him from either side.

Princess Luna saw that he was trying to prevent any flanking maneuvers against him, but had seemingly left himself exposed from an approach from below. She assumed, that since he was unaccustomed to fighting winged opponents from this angle, his vulnerability was an oversight. Looking at Lady Zephyr who was valiantly trying her best to reach him laterally, made her smile, when she realized that had advantage was hers now.

Tucking in her wings, she made a steep dive in order to gain the momentum needed to nab the Slave King on her return climb. Though she was much larger than her pegasi subjects, she was none the less agile. At the last moment she flared her wings and beat them frantically. Instantly, she shot up towards him at incredible speed. As she approached him, she began charging her horn to release a spell to capture him with her magic.

With a musical laugh, at the triumph of her impending victory, she released all her magic at her husband to be. “Huzzah, my betrothed,” she shouted with glee, her eyes wide with excitement, as she exalted in the thrill of the hunt. “We hath come to collect thee, as our promised prize!”

The Slave King looked down as her focused magic impacted against him. Raising his metal arm to meet the magical energies, they swirled and fluxed around their intended target, until they finally dissipated. Seeing the look of shock and disappointment on her face, he offered her a sympathetic shrug of his shoulders, as he cover himself with the Earth.

Moments later, he punched through one of the makeshift walls he’d made, and continued running, as he dodged past Lady Zephyr’s talons. “An excellent stratagem, Luna, the Beautiful,” he called out, as he ducked and dodged Lady Suzaku and Lady Zephyr’s attempts at snagging him. “Unfortunately, arcanum steel is highly resistant to all but the strongest magical energies.”

Seeing Lady Zephyr’s smug smile at her failure when she rocketed past, sent her into a furious rage. Releasing a bolt of shadow magic at the ceiling, she released a small chuckle when she saw bits of the ceiling showering down onto Lady Minoa’s head.

Lady Minoa, who already felt extremely vexed by how things had turned out, snorted at the Lady of Night in fury. Picking up a large gem, she hurled it at the alicorn. Luna shrieked in pain, as she felt as if somepony had struck a hammer blow against her wing. The minotauress, gave her a dirty look, as she resumed chasing after her quarry.

“Don’t pick fights you can’t win, Luna,” she called out, knocking aside a few goddesses who’d gotten in her way as she began climbing the vault’s walls.

The Lady of Spring, didn’t have the same power over the Earth as the Slave King. While she couldn’t hope to perform some of the feats he was performing with ease, she possessed abilities of her own. Though she lacked the magical finesse of sometaurus like Luna, she made up for it with brute force and raw power. Seeing how he was running back and forth like a mad bull, she simply needed to time things correctly, and her prize would be ripe for the plucking.

Once he was close enough, she bellowed, and released her fertile power into the vault’s ceiling. Instantly, leafy plants, thick vines, and choking kudzu, snaked their way across the ceiling towards the Slave King’s path. Before he could alter his path, he found himself entangled in her greenery. Try as he might, he found himself unable to move.

Seeing he was immobilized, and powerless to resist her. She leapt towards him, with her hands outstretched, ready to lay claim to him. She licked her lips in anticipation, of crowing her sweet victory over the others. She thought about how much she would enjoy breaking him in, during the blissful lust of their wedding night. She was sure, sometaurus as virile and tenacious as he, would even put Lord Triton’s impressive endurance to shame. While fantasizing over the pleasure they’d share together, she failed to see his eye’s flaring with power. Before she could grab hold and clutch him tightly to her waiting breasts, the vines holding the Slave King broke free from the ceiling, sending him plummeting to the ground below.

“No!” she cried out, angry she’d been denied her trophy. Landing with a hard thud, she looked up at the ceiling above her, and saw sand trickling onto the golden bits beneath her hooves. Seeing that the Slave King was ripping the tangling vegetation away from him, she stomped her hooves and charged forward.

Feeling the ground rumbling beneath his feet, he saw Lady Minoa rushing towards him, horns first. Spying a golden chain near his feet, he grabbed it, swung it around his head twice, and released it at her hooves. Immediately, she tripped, landing muzzle first, sliding towards him, and knocking treasure aside as she came to a stop near his feet.

Looking down at her, he chuckled at her predicament. “The foundations of a strong marriage, can’t be built on sand,” he remarked, pointing towards her failed trap. “If you wish to lay with me, I’d suggest watching your hooves.”

Hearing his taunts, made her tail quiver with delight. She could still taste his blood and essence on her tongue, and desired to taste him once more. Pounding her fist in frustration, she struggled as she tried freeing herself from the chain binding her hooves together. She wondered if he would be as boastful, when she turned the tables on him in their marital bed.

Dodging to escape Lady Zephyr’s grasping talons, he headed towards the manufactorium. Looking behind him, he knew there were few tricks left to him here in the treasury, and if he wanted to remain a free man, he’d best lead his eager brides to be, elsewhere. Knowing how dangerous a place it could be, he felt slightly guilty about making things so difficult for them. But when he saw them pushing each other as they rushed after him, he hardened his heart. Because if he was going to be forced to marry someone, he’d make them work for the privilege.

*****

Princess Celestia looked on in disappointment, while watching the others fighting tooth and nail, as they chased after the Slave King. Lying on his golden hoard, she wondered where she’d gone wrong. In her mind, she’d envisioned him making the sensible choice of choosing her sister over the others. After all, it made the greatest sense, Luna was beautiful and wise, and held considerable clout on the pantheon. Additionally, as his in-law, she would’ve been able to politically assist him greatly behind the scenes.

But beyond the obvious political advantages their union offered, she felt Luna was a favorable match for him. With no offense to Lady Suzaku and Lady Zephyr, they were both ill-suited for his temperament. What Lady Zephyr truly wanted was Lord Darkpaw, not his replacement. While Lady Suzaku’s hunger for anypony to love her, would make her a loving mate, it also made her prone to obsessive behavior. And as for Lady Minoa, she only wanted someone to rut her silly. Once she’d had her fill of the Slave King, she’d discard him for somepony else. And though she didn’t know why many of her minor sisters desired of him, she could tell by their greedy eyes while he guided them through his vast holdings, they cared more for the wealth rather than the stallion that owned it.

What the Slave King needed was somepony who was gentle and kindhearted. Somepony that could show him all the joys life could offer him, before the same shadow that plagued Lord Cerynitis, claimed his heart as well. She still remembered the weeping child she held all those years ago. Seeing him suffer through such great despair, had nearly broken her heart. Though she didn’t know its source, she thought her sister might be the balm that could finally make him whole.

While she loved her sister greatly, she could be somewhat prone to theatrics and moodiness. Of late, due to her cloistered living, she’d been getting worse. The poor way she’d reacted over the Slave King and Lord Cerynitis, had only been the latest examples of her tantrums. She was seriously worried Luna might crack, if things continued like this.

She thought the stabilizing influence of a stallion might help even her out. Though she’d been disappointed by her adamant refusal when she’d broached the idea of a possible coupling with Lord Triton; she was surprised and overjoyed when she took to the idea of a union with the Slave King all on her own. She was positive, that she would’ve been forced to cajole and pressure her into accepting the idea, due to their previously rocky history together.

Now, she had to deal with the possible fallout from Luna, distraught over the loss of the Slave King, should the others manage to capture him first. She could already tell it was going to be one of these decades, especially if Lady Minoa ended up marrying him. Instead of the south strengthening its ties with the rest of Equestria, the Domain of Earth would become insular, as his new wife would invariably steer his attentions inward.

If only she hadn’t been so confident in her plan succeeding! She might’ve arranged for this possibility. But it was too late now, and there was nothing she could do about it, beyond claiming his little contest as invalid, requiring him to marry her instead. But such an action would cause all sorts of problems for her on the pantheon. Not to mention how Luna would react! No, her only chance in salvaging the situation, lay in the hope that her sister truly loved the Slave King enough to win.

“Hello Celestia,” Discord said, holding a large glass of chocolate milk and sipping it through a curly straw. “I love the chaos you managed creating, it really helps the feng shui flow in here.”

“Am I going to have to send you back to your statue?” she irritably asked, unhappy at having to deal with the trickster’s blasé attitude.

“Whoa there, Celestia,” he said, offering her a toothy grin. “I’m only here to watch the fun, not participate.”

“This is a private function of the Lunar Council, Discord,” she firmly said, displaying her displeasure at his intrusion. “Members of the Solar Council, are not welcome here unless invited.”

“So if I were a member of the council, I’d be welcome with open hooves?” he asked, as he shifted into the feminine aspect of chaos, Eris. Batting her lids at Celestia, she looked thoughtfully at the Slave King. “Well now that I’m all gussied up, perhaps I should try my luck. What do you think, Celestia?”

Realizing Eris had her beat, Celestia sighed. The last thing she needed was the draconequus, in the form of Eris, free and causing chaos if she managed to win against the others. “Alright, Discord,” she said, making reference to her masculine aspect. “You can stay and watch, but only if you behave yourself.”

“Oh, how lovely,” she said, clapping her paws together. Snapping once, she shifted back into Discord. “I’m so glad we could come to an accord, Celestia.”

Unhappy at having been beat, she glowered at him unhappily, as she silently rooted for her sister to win. Watching events unfold, she was impressed by the Slave King’s inventiveness as he evaded each goddess in turn.

Watching her paying rapt attention to the pandemonium in the treasury, he smiled as he scooted next to her. “Hey, Celestia,” he said, playfully removing the crown from her head. “The chaos you’ve made here today, it warms my heart.”

“Discord, return my crown this instant,” she commanded, indignant at being treated so disrespectfully. “I had nothing to do with it.”

“Fine, Celestia, if you’re going to be a wet blanket about it,” he said, reluctantly returning her crown to its rightful place. “So, still feeling miffed that things didn't work out with the Slave King?”

“What did you do?” she said, demanding an explanation as she leveled her horn at him. “If I find out you had your hoof in any of this…”

“And why would I bother, when you’ve managed to botch things up so spectacularly on your own?” he asked with a chuckle, while watching the Slave King fight Princess Luna for his bachelorhood. “It’s such a shame about Luna too…”

“What are you talking about, Discord?” Celestia asked, worried he knew something she didn’t. “If you know something, tell me.”

“I don’t know, if I should say anything…” he mused, stroking his crooked beard playfully.

“Please tell me, Discord,” she nearly begged.

“Alright, Celestia, I’ll tell you, but only because you asked so nicely,” he said, appearing behind her. “Your sweet little sister, will be so crushed when she loses to Lady Suzaku.”

“Lady Suzaku? Why do you think she’ll win?” she asked, curious to hear his reasoning.

“The Slave King will soon tire of this little game, and will eventually let somepony catch him,” he said, making a little stuffed plushie of the Slave King frowning appear in his paw. “And as a creature of habit, he prefers the comfort of the known and familiar. When that happens, who do you’ll think he’ll choose?”

“Why not Lady Zephyr then? They have a history as well,” Celestia pointed out.

“True, but why have one, when you could have two?” he replied, making smiling plushies of Suzaku and Zephyr with heart shaped eyes appear beside the Slave King. Then showing her a plushie of Luna crying, he placed it between Celestia’s hooves. “And what do you think poor distraught Luna will do when she can’t have what she desires?”

“I’m not sure,” Celestia said, looking worriedly at the Luna plushie.

“Perhaps, Lord Cerynitis, might know,” he said, placing the red eyed reindeer plushie beside plushie Luna, whose eyes also started to glow. “Too bad, a certain god of chaos isn’t there to even the playing field in her favor.”

“In exchange for what?” she asked, not knowing what he’d demand in exchange for his services.

“Weddings are such dull affairs alone, I need somepony to accompany me. And a little sugar on the side, to sweeten the deal wouldn’t hurt either,” he said, sticking out his tongue at her, as it moved suggestively.

“I’ll agree to attend the wedding with you, but I’m not doing, That, with you!” she said, adamantly putting her hoof down.

“Who said anything about you?” he replied with a chuckle. “I’m talking about Lady Minoa. Once she loses the Slave King, she’ll need somepony to rebound with.”

She gave him a annoyed look, half insulted that he’d rather go with somepony else, but relieved all the same, that she’d be spared the expectation of giving him any sugar. “Alright, Discord, I’ll agree to your terms,” she said, looking on, as the Slave King was leading the chase into his manufactorium. “Ensure my sister wins, and I’ll see to it that Lady Minoa spends some time with you during the wedding.”

“What about my sugar?” he asked, afraid he’d have to go high and dry for another couple of centuries.

“Any sugar she chooses to give you, is strictly between you and her,” she admonished him. “But if I hear from her later, that you put your claw into the sugar bowl without asking. There will be Hades to pay.”

“Celestia, please,” he scoffed, offended that she’d think he’d try doing that. “I’m not a horn dog like Lord Triton you know. I assure you any sugar I receive from her rather generous sugar bowl, will be consensually given.”

“Just make sure nopony sees you interfering,” she said, worried that somepony might link his actions back to her.

“Pshaw, Celestia, I’m a professional cheat,” he said, before disappearing in a cloud of pink smoke. “Nopony will even suspect that I’m there.”

“I hope so, Discord,” she said, looking at her sister with concern as she trailed after the others, each of whom were hot on the Slave King’s trail. “I certainly hope so.”

*****

The Slave King was running through the foundry, trying his best to avoid a rather determined Lady Suzaku. Unlike the others, she had nothing to fear from the flames and molten metals being processed here. Though he didn’t want to hurt her, he was still unwilling to let anyone catch him yet, and had been throwing up all sorts of obstacles at her.

Spinning past the fiery sparks flying from the molten metal being poured from one of the furnaces, Lady Suzaku flapped her wings in excitement, determined that the slave King would finally be hers. “Oh love, stop running, you’ll only tire yourself out,” she called out, as he ran barely out of her reach. In response, he slid beneath a conveyor belt, in order to escape her. “Clever, my love, but even dirt and grime won’t keep me from catching you!”

When he heard the determination in her voice, the Slave King groaned. It looked like he’d need to find some other way of dissuading her. Looking at him as he laid beneath the conveyor, she smiled as she reached out to grab him with her wing. With no other avenues of escape available to him, he grabbed hold of the conveyor belt moving above him, and was swiftly carried away from her outstretched wing.

“You were so close that time, Lady Suzaku,” he said, as she looked on in disappointment. “Keep at it, my dear, maybe you’ll be the one that finally catches me.”

She imagined him, once again holding her in his arms and smiled. It had been so long since he’d offered her any terms of endearment, and she found her heart leaping for joy he’d offered them to her once more. Releasing an exultation of joy, she burst into flames, and flew after her beloved.

Letting go of the conveyer, the Slave King dropped to the ground, and found himself above the nearly completed, Devastation. The great machine stood lifeless, only waiting for its master to call it into service. Walking as stealthily as possible, he scanned his surroundings before passing between its exposed girders, and into its innards. Not a moment later, Lady Zephyr swooped past, trying her best to discover him.

“Slave King, please. Allow me to catch you, my love,” she pleaded, not wanting to lose him to another. “I’m sorry for deceiving you, darling. Just give me another chance.”

When he heard her heartfelt plea, he forgot himself, and called out to her, “I’m sorry, Lady Zephyr, I can’t give you what you want.”

Hearing him speak, she circled overhead. “But you could give it to another?” she angrily accused, remembering how he’d spent the night with Luna.

“Woman, I don’t know what you’re talking about!” he shouted at her, wishing things were somehow different between them.

She landed in front of him, as her eyes threatened to tear up. “Why won’t you love me?” she cried out, despairing that even if she did win his hand in marriage, she’d never truly win his heart.

“I… I just can’t,” he replied to her, mere inches from her grasp. Part of him wished she’d just grab hold of him, and end their never ending chase. He looked into her storm blue eyes, and reluctantly held out his hand. “I wish I could.”

She returned his gaze, and stared into those burning green eyes that had first entranced her with their power. He could easily be hers, all she had to do was reach out and claim him. She envisioned the life they’d share, and smiled. He’d become the proud father that their son needed, and to their many other children as well. But then she remembered the night they’d shared together, and the sorrow she’d seen. She recalled the understanding they’d shared together, and knew she couldn’t do it. She’d never truly earn his love like this.

Seeing her hesitation and longing, he reached out and kissed her beak. “I’m sorry, I’m not Darkpaw,” he said, looking out for the others.

Looking up, she saw Lady Minoa creeping up on them. Reaching out, she grabbed the Slave King’s arm and pulled him out of the way. “Run, my love!” she shouted, as she grappled with the Lady of Spring.

Not needing to be told twice, the Slave King ran deeper into the innards of the Devastation, leaving the two goddesses behind.

"Why did you let him get away?” Lady Minoa asked, as she fought against Lady Zephyr’s talons. “He could’ve been yours.”

Truthfully, she had no idea why she’d let him go. Her heart still burned for him, and her body longed for his touch. “You’d never understand,” she replied, struggling against her opponent’s greater strength.

Lady Minoa gave her a pitying look. “You know what, Lady Zephyr, you’re a fool,” she taunted, trying to provoke a response. “You claim to love him, yet you let him become sometaurus elses mate.”

She could feel her knees buckling, and her talons growing weak from the struggle. “What do you know anyway!” she angrily shouted at her.

Seeing her chance to overpower her, Lady Minoa, kicked out her paw knocking her to the ground. Standing victoriously over the Lady of Air, she sneered. “What I know is this, I’m going to enjoy bedding him repeatedly,” she boasted, leaving Lady Zephyr behind, dazed and sprawled out on the ground.

Lady Minoa inhaled deeply, catching her quarry’s scent. She couldn’t believe that fool. Had she had the Slave King within her reach, she’d have hit him real good to stun him, and carried him triumphantly back to Celestia, slung across her shoulder like a trophy. As she walked deeper inside the Slave King’s infernal contraption, the passageway became much darker and claustrophobic. Though she found the passageway was a little too short for her frame, the darkness and twisting corridors reminded her of her home, the Twisting Path Labyrinth.

“I’m going to get you, Slave King!” she called out, letting her voice echo inside the darkness.

In response, she saw his burning eyes appear in the darkness. “Then why don’t you?” he derisively scoffed. “You keep boasting like a drunkard. But I’ve yet to be impressed, my lady.”

Angrily tightening her large fists, she snorted and stomped once. She’d show him her strength, she decided. He’d regret mocking her! She’d knock him down with one punch, and bring him back immobilized, stretched out on a rack. In her fury, she charged towards him down the dark passageway.

The Slave King did nothing, he just stood there patiently as she came ever closer. Then, right before he was within arm’s reach, he activated a mechanism that sent her hurtling deep into the bowels of the machine. She fell into a deep pit, and looked up into his burning eyes.

The Slave King peered down into the darkness, and saw Lady Minoa looking back at him, dazed and confused. “My apologies, Lady Minoa, the machinery here, can be a bit temperamental at times,” he called out, as his laughter echoed from above. “But you’re still not watching your hooves. I fear at this rate, your bed will remain rather lonely and cold.”

Standing up, she narrowed her eyes in anger. The Slave King was starting to seriously vex her. Grasping the wall, she began fantasizing as she climbed, what she’d do to him once she finally gotten her hands on him. Fortunately for her, her future husband was a god, and not as prone to breaking as a mortal. She’d thoroughly enjoy dominating him, though she was sure he’d find the experience less then pleasant.

Muttering a few curses, she promised herself, her pride would be avenged.

*****

Lady Suzaku, flew high above the manufactorium floor searching for her beloved. Though her beautiful plumage and complexion was absolutely filthy now, she felt the prize was worth the sacrifice.

“Hello beautiful,” she heard somefeather say. “Having fun chasing after the Slave King?”

Confused by who was speaking with her, she looked around and saw to her surprise, Discord of all feathers, flying beside her. “Discord,” she suspiciously said, expecting him to be up to his old tricks once more. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, I was totally bored waiting with the others, so I decided to see how things are progressing here,” he said, offering her a toothy grin. “You’ve done quite well for yourself, though I wonder why you chase after him when he’s been so reluctant to be anypony’s spouse.”

“Somefeather has to marry him, you know,” she replied, determined that it would be her and nofeather else.

“Ah, have you forgotten about your business with Lord Ananse?” he asked, there’s no better time than now, to retrieve it from the Well of Eternity.

“How… how do you know about that?” she hissed, fearful somefeather had discovered her original plan for the Slave King.

“I have my ways, Lady Suzaku,” he replied, wearing a sly grin and offering her a silk lined iron box.

“What’s that?” she asked, curious why he was offering it to her.

“You’ll never get away with your theft, unless you have something to hide it inside,” Discord said, gesturing towards the path that lead towards the Well of Eternity.

“I don’t know…” she hesitantly said, worried for the Slave King’s safety.

Seeing her reluctance, he placed his talon across his heart. “I swear, that no harm will come to him because of this,” he promised, flying towards the Well of Eternity. “But if you plan to do it, you must do it now, while everypony else is otherwise occupied.”

She thought over his offer. Lord Ananse had promised her, her heart’s desire after all. But here, she had the chance to make him hers honestly. She felt, she could easily win him over later, during the ensuing centuries of their marriage. But to have him love her now, of his own free will, would be her dream come true. And there was no guarantee she’d even win the contest, so having a backup plan would be a good idea. If she won, she could always excuse her theft, and tell him it was her wedding gift to him. The more she thought it over, the more she was convinced it was the prudent choice. Wheeling towards, the Well of Eternity, she temporarily abandoned her pursuit of the Slave King.

Seeing that Lady Suzaku was safely out of the picture, he set out to ensure Princess Luna bagged her man.

*****

Luna felt downcast and despondent. Everypony else, seemed to be doing much better than she. So far, she’d only managed to nearly capture him once. She lacked the speed of Lady Zephyr, agility of Lady Suzaku, and the raw strength of Lady Minoa. Looking around at all these machines, she knew exactly why he’d brought the chase in here. There were many places he could hide, in order to escape the majority of his pursuers. All but the most powerful of them, had abilities that would aid them in their hunt.

Lady Suzaku’s immunity to fire served her well, while Lady Zephyr’s great speed allowed her to easily avoid the machines as they went about their business. And judging by the wreckage she’d seen on her way here, the metal machines was no match for Lady Minoa’s strength. Though her magic was powerful, for some odd reason she found its potency greatly reduced here.

Flying high above the machines, she saw Lady Minoa and Lady Zephyr fighting each other, as the Slave King ran inside one of the massive machines below.

“Huzzah! We still have the chance over the others!” she whooped, trying to devise the best strategy to reach him before the others managed to.

Looking for any alternate access points into the machine, she tried using her magic to scry a path. To her disappointment, she found it was unresponsive. Flying down to where she’d seen them fighting, she saw a fine powder covering the ground. Curious as to what it was, she attempted levitating a sample with her magic, and found it was highly thaumatically reactive. Casting a spell on her vision, she found she could now easily see the Slave King, Lady Minoa, and Lady Zephyr without issue. Thankful to her great luck, she took flight, looking for the best opening to finally capture the Slave King.

Unbeknownst to her, Discord watched from the shadows, pleased that she’d taken the bait. Now all he needed to do was convince the Slave King to take the chase somewhere more convenient. Taking the form of Ignatius, he casually walked towards one of the communication gems placed intermittently through the manufactorium.

Placing his claw on the gem, he spoke to the Slave King. I’m sorry to bother you while you’re entertaining guests, Slave King, he said, mimicking the dragon-half perfectly.

Ignatius, I’m a bit busy here, can’t this wait until later? he asked.

Lady Minoa’s been rough housing with the Devastation. If it takes anymore damage, it might be fatally compromised, he said.

I’m sorry for all the trouble, Ignatius, the Slave King replied. I’ll lead them elsewhere.

Might I suggest the mines in the old city? Discord turned Ignatius suggested. A little destruction there won’t matter, and it might just liven things up.

Good idea, Ignatius, the Slave King said.

No, good luck to you, my king, he replied before breaking the transmission.

“Excellent!” Discord cheered. Holding up the Slave King plushie, he turned to it and smiled. “Don’t you just love it, when a plan comes together?”

“…” the plushie responded, frowning at him.

“What are you talking about? Discord replied, slightly offended that the plushie would suggest such a thing. “I’m totally about men before mares.”

“…” the plushie said, giving him a hard look.

“That’s totally ridiculous, and you know it!” Discord shouted, incensed that it could accuse him of something like that. In anger, he threw the plushie over his shoulder, where it landed on a nearby conveyor belt.

“…” the plushie said, giving him its last stoic goodbye, as the conveyor carried it to meet its fate inside a nearby furnace.

Discord folded his arms and sulked, as the conveyor carried the plushie ever closer to its fiery doom. Looking at it with a single eye, his lip quivered, as the plushie looked back at him, fully prepared to meet its death with dignity.

As the conveyor dropped the plushie into the fiery furnace, Discord looked on in horror, when he realized what he’d done. Teleporting to the furnace, he reached out to save the plushie from its fiery fate. Barely holding on to it with his claw, he struggled to pull it back up to safety.

“…” the plushie said, offering him a sad smile.

“Forgive me, my friend,” Discord said, as he noticed to his horror, the plushie’s stitching along the arm’s seam he was grabbing was starting to come lose.

“…” the plushie replied, reminiscing about all the good times they’d shared together.

“No, don’t say that!” Discord shouted, trying his hardest to save the plushie before it was too late.

The last few threads holding the plushie’s arm to its body broke, sending it falling, to its doom.

“…” the plushie said, right before the flames claimed it.

“Nooo!” Discord howled. “Damn you, shoddy Chineigh manufacturing!”

Wiping away a single tear for his fallen friend, he placed its severed threadbare arm next to the rest of his plushie collection, vowing that his friend’s loss wouldn’t be in vain.

“You will be avenged!” he cried out, as flames from the furnace exploded behind him.

*****

Lady Suzaku, flew as fast as her wings would allow. She knew time was of the essence, if she wanted to retrieve the final ingredient called for in Lord Ananse’s potion, and resume the chase in time. Locating the ley line that led to the Well of Eternity, she entered, and followed it into the hallowed meeting place of the gods.

As she traveled through the ley line, she only hoped that all of this would be unnecessary. It broke her heart, to bring him any pain, and from what she’d read, this would be most painful for him. If only he’d been willing to love her, none of this would be necessary. Hadn’t she done everything he’d ever asked of her? She’d even willingly shared him with her friend Lady Zephyr, for Celestia’s sake!

“He’s brought this on himself,” she said, trying to assuage her guilt in this matter.

Exiting the ley line, she found herself inside the Well of Eternity. Normally, anytime anyfeather entered this place, a moot would be called. However, everyfeather was busy with the Slave King, and so she could enter it without being detected. Approaching the well, she could hear the steady beat of his heart, echoing through the chamber. She thought back to what had happened all those centuries ago, and angrily narrowed her eyes.

It was all Celestia’s fault she was being forced to slip inside the Well of Eternity, like a thief at night. Had he still possessed his heart, he would have willingly chosen her of his own free will, she just knew he would have. But now, she was at risk at losing him to somefeather else who didn’t love him like she did, nofeather possibly could. For the past five centuries, she’d dedicated herself entirely to his happiness. She’d given him the feathered folk tribe, and allowed them to live in his domain, though it nearly broke her heart to be away from them, especially her daughters. She’d even extracted half of her own heart to replace his, in hopes of gaining his affection.

And it was all for naught, nothing she could do would make him love her, she knew that now. Now with no other choice before her, she approached the fountain, and looked at the heart steadily beating inside.

She remembered how gory a scene it was. The Slave King had impaled himself with one of Darkpaw’s fangs, and ripped out his own heart in order to escape being turned into a statue, like Discord had. Opening the steel box that the trickster had given her, she entered the waters, reached down, and gingerly picked up her beloved’s beating heart. Looking at it, she began weeping, as she thought about how much pain he would suffer because of her.

“I’m so sorry, love,” she whispered, placing the heart into the box and closing it. “Please forgive me.”

Lowering her head, she exited the fountain, and reentered the ley line, hoping she could capture her lover, before it was too late.

*****

Though he needed to make a makeshift entrance that led to the ruins of the Diamond Vale, he placed wards as he went to prevent any of the undead from infesting the rest of his palace.

Satisfied it was ready, he called out for everyone to hear. “Time to move along!” he shouted, running up the tunnel towards his ruined city.

Both Luna and Minoa saw him trying to escape, and they rushed after him. The power of the Shadow Domain was strong here, and Lady Minoa took advantage of that, as she entered the shadows to chase after him. Not to be outdone by her competition, Princess Luna followed after her, as they raced after the object of their desires.

As the two goddesses jockeyed each other for position, the Slave King looked behind him. Disappointed that only two of the goddesses had the endurance to have kept up with him. Though he knew Lady Zephyr had dropped out, he was somewhat disappointed Lady Suzaku hadn’t managed to keep up.

Waiting patiently for them to pop out of the tunnel, he chuckled when he saw Luna had beaten Lady Minoa to the surface. Once both of them had exited the tunnel, he whistled loudly to catch their attention. Entering a nearby mine, he ran inside hoping to lose them in its depths.

“Get out of my way, Luna!” Lady Minoa demanded, throwing a punch at her as they raced towards the mine’s entrance.

“Nay, thou brutish oaf, the Slave King shall never be yours,” she replied, shoving her aside.

Lady Minoa, gave her an evil look, as she called upon her power. Moments later, hundreds of thorny vines broke through the cracked stone street beneath their hooves, entangling Princess Luna in their grasp.

“Thou cheat!” Luna shouted, incensed that she’d been trapped by her snaring plants.

“All’s fair in love and war, Luna,” Lady Minoa laughed, as she left her behind.

“Yes, thou art correct, thou dried up milker!” she replied, as she charged up her horn. Releasing a wave of shadow magic, she made the plants wither and wilt before her. “We shall do similar to thee, Lady Minoa!”

Aw, is poor little Luna having difficulties? The voice taunted her, as she charged into the dark depths of the mine.

Silence, thou wretch! she hissed, as she search for the best path to cut off her rival from reaching the Slave King first. We shan’t allow thy tomfoolery, prevent us from claiming our prize.

Her hoofbeats reverberated through the mine, as its oppressive darkness closed in all around her. However, thanks to her magically fueled vision she could clearly see Lady Minoa and the Slave King deeper inside the mine. Though she couldn’t see Lady Zephyr nearby, she was certain, that the Lady of Air would make her appearance sooner or later.

Though she could clearly see where the Slave King was, the winding tunnels and passageways made navigating her way through the mine difficult. Taking a wrong path, and finding herself in another dead end once more, nearly sent her into a dark depression. Pounding her hooves, against the tunnel wall, she lowered her head, and wailed. “Tis not fair!” she cried, annoyed by the maze like mine, and vexed that she could so clearly see where the Slave King stood, and yet he remained so far out of her reach.

Giving up so easily, Luna? the voice asked, its voice dripping with condescension. Is the little princess going to sit on her haunches, and cry like a foal who’s lost its mommy?

Shut up! she shouted, drawing heavily on her connection to the Shadow Domain.

Normally she only used shadow magic in moderate amounts, due to its somewhat caustic influence upon the soul. But as her hatred for the voice grew as it mocked her, and her self-loathing grew for her being so powerless in her failure to get what she wanted, she allowed the shadows to wash over her completely. As her connection to the Shadow Domain deepened, the links she held with the Lunar Domain waned.

She felt so powerful now! She could scarcely believe it. Normally, she’d preferred basking in the gentle power of her Lunar Domain, though weaker than most of the other great domains, its influence could be felt everywhere. She realized with such power at her call, she could do whatever she desired, perhaps even overthrowing her sister if she wished.

Nay, we coulds’t never do such a brutish thing to our dear sister, she remorsefully thought, excising the power of the shadows from herself, as she held her head down in shame for even thinking such a thought.

Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha… came the voice’s laughter echoing through her mind.

Stop it! she pleaded, afraid in her desperation she might draw further upon the shadows.

No wonder, nopony respects you, Luna, the Weak and Helpless, the voice said, showing her how Lady Minoa would claim and use the Slave King as her personal toy. You can’t even protect the one you love, from those who seek to use him for their own selfish ends.

Nay, it shall not come to pass, she said, vowing that nopony would abuse her stallion so.

Is that so, Luna? the voice asked, showing her what Lady Minoa had planned for him.

Blushing furiously at the scene, she narrowed her eyes in determination. We shall catch him, keep him, and cherish him, she said, turning back the way she came.

Lighting her path with her horn, she tried finding the quickest way to the Slave King, but kept getting lost in the mine’s winding paths. He’ll never be yours, the others will find him first, the voice continued, showing her, his fate amongst her rivals.

We care not for thy lies, deceiver, she replied, trying her best to ignore its taunts.

Managing to go deeper into the mine, her heart was gladdened, when she heard Lady Minoa’s voice echo as she called to the Slave King, to come out and play.

Lady Minoa, will make him happy as his wife don’t you think? the voice asked, showing her their wedding night. I’m sure, he’ll awake beside her each morning, spent and exhausted from the night’s previous activities.

Tis not to be, deceiver, she replied, trying to determine which fork in the path she should take. My husband shall be well rested, under my gentle ministrations.

Lady Zephyr’s claws, will prevent you from approaching her mate unbidden, the voice countered.

Looking at her surroundings, she saw Lady Minoa chasing after the Slave King, as he rushed through a side passage. Though they were once lovers, she replied, running to catch up. He shall have eyes, only for me.

Lady Suzaku’s given him many children, how can you possibly complete with that? the voice pointed out, showing her the full numbers of the feathered folk tribe.

Our home shall have room and to spare, for each of them, and for ours, she replied, as she could see them both clearly now, with her magical sight.

Running around a corner, she could see both of them. Lady Minoa was trying to get the drop on him, while the Slave King was fighting off her advances with his Earthen magic. Knowing what she needed to do, she approached them, with her horn fully charged.

“Hold, Slave King, Lady Minoa,” she called out.

The two combatants looked towards her, and stood down, as they waited to see what she wished to say.

“Speak, or join our fight, Luna, the Beautiful,” the Slave King said, while looking at Lady Minoa warily.

“I’d prefer fighting if it’s all the same to you,” Minoa said, shaking her fist menacingly at her.

“Might there be a third path we might take?” she asked, approaching them cautiously.

“What do you mean?” the Slave King asked, prepared to unleash his magic on the unsuspecting goddesses.

“We two, appear to be all who remain of thy suitors,” Luna said, pointing out they were the only ones who’d managed to make it this far.

“Come any closer to me, Luna,” Minoa said, with a determined grin. “And there will be only one.”

“We propose, that we duel for the Slave King,” Luna said, wishing to finish this.

“So winner take all?” Minoa asked, cracking her knuckles while mulling the proposal over in her mind.

“Yea, verily, Lady Minoa,” she said, glancing over at the Slave King. “Winner takes all.”

“Interesting idea, Luna, the beautiful,” the Slave King said, as he thought that perhaps both goddesses might knock each other out during their brawl.”

“So do we have an accord, Lady Minoa?” she asked.

“That we do, Luna,” she said, offering her, her horns to seal the pact.

Luna walked forward, and touched her horn to her rival’s. The moment they touched, sparks flew as Lady Minoa decked Luna as hard as she could against her muzzle. The force of the impact, sent her flying into the nearby mine wall.

“Luna, stay down and let me claim my prize, unless you like pain,” she said, flexing her impressive muscles.

Luna looked up at her opponent groggily, the blow had knocked the wind out of her, temporarily stunning her. “Thou scound!” she angrily shouted, struggling to stand up.

“It’s not my fault, if you can’t fight worth a damn, Luna,” she menacingly replied, slowly approaching the alicorn as she pounded her fist into her palm.

Narrowing her eyes in anger, she reared up and released a beam of magical energy from her horn at the minotauress. Her magic struck Lady Minoa in the chest, knocking her off her hooves, and sending her sliding along the ground on her back. Furious at having been knocked aside by Luna’s magic, she opened her eyes, slammed her fist against the earth in a rage, and leapt to her hooves.

“Magic, what a cheap trick!” she snarled, stomping her hooves. Lowering her brass clad horns at Luna, they dully reflected the light from her lowered horn. “You won’t get a second chance to do that!”

“We needn’t one, to vanquish thee, thou strumpet!” Luna retorted, lowering her horn and charging directly at her.

Lady Minoa, snorted contemptuously, and rushed forward to meet her. The force of their hooves, shook the mine, sending debris falling everywhere. When their horns clashed together, magical sparks leapt free, showering everything with their light.

Luna’s knees threatened to buckle under the great stress they were under, Lady Minoa was slowly pushing her back, as the muscles in her thighs flexed. She tried throwing her weight forward, but all her efforts seemed to be stymied by her rival. She felt exhaustion begin overtaking her, as her opponent’s great strength refused to give her an inch.

“Are you ready to give up yet, Luna?” Lady Minoa asked, pushing her head forward. “I can keep this up all day!”

“Ne… never!” Luna shouted between breaths, struggling under the strain, and trying desperately to stay on her hooves. “Thou shalt never have him!”

Licking her lips in determination, Minoa reached deep into the Earth, and pushed forward with all her might, knocking her to the ground. Luna looked up at her, as she stood triumphantly over her, and despaired, knowing she’d just lost the Slave King to her much stronger opponent.

“See!” Minoa boasted, crowing with triumph at having defeated Luna so easily. “Notaurus is tougher than me! I’m the best.”

Looking to the Slave King, she wondered if he even cared that she’d lost. She saw him looking on, with his hands folded together. His face reflected no emotion, the only movement she could see from him, was the magical fire emanating from his eyes. Looking back to Minoa, she saw venom reflected in her eyes.

“You know,” she told Luna, balling her hands into fists. “I think getting a little payback from earlier, is in order.”

Luna felt fear clutching at her heart. Though she was in no real danger, the beating Minoa threatened to give her, was sure to hurt. Looking at the Slave King for aid, he gave her a curious look.

“Any who wish to be my wife, should know my laws,” the Slave King said.

“Yes, husband,” Lady Minoa replied. “Though I have no need of any law, I like your second one a lot. The strong rule, the weak serve.”

“True, Lady Minoa,” he said, motioning for her to come to him, and glancing briefly at Luna. “But, one should never forget the third.”

“Oh, and what’s that?” she asked, turning her back to Luna.

Luna was tired and exhausted, she had little strength left. She felt miserable, even the Slave King had abandoned her when she needed his aid the most. She began crying, she was sure she was destined to be alone for the foreseeable future. She remembered last night, and wished she’d never stolen that kiss, maybe that’s why he’d forsaken her. She felt the dripping of moisture from above, hitting her on the head. Oh great, she mourned. Now we’re miserable, and all wet!

See Luna, the voice laughed at her. This is why you’re no good. Even the Slave King knows it. That’s why he left you to your fate.

She felt inclined to agree with the voice, she was no good and worthless. Nopony wanted anything to do with her. Once again, another drop from the ceiling landed on her head. Damn it all, to Hades! she moaned, We cans’t even be miserable in peace, without the world conspiring against us!

Another drop of moisture fell again, this time landing in her mouth. When it touched her tongue, she felt her strength returning to her. Breathing in deeply, she smelt a familiar scent. The fountain from last night, she realized. He does care for us, he just can’t show it due to the contest.

Moving her head, she opened her mouth to catch as much of the restorative draught as possible. She smiled as another drop landed squarely on her tongue, and then another, and another. Slowly but surely, she was regaining her strength and resolve.

Hungry for more pain, Luna? the voice asked with a dark chuckle. I didn’t know you were a glutton for punishment.

Silence, deceiver! she replied, empowered by the restorative draught she’d been drinking. We have no need of thy lying ways.

You have no chance, Luna, the voice said. Your strength is no match for hers.

It matters not! she declared, giddy as a filly and prepared to win. He loves us, that’s all that matters.

Do you think your sister, Celestia, will let you have him all to yourself? the voice maliciously asked.

Our sister, would never… she replied, feeling doubt starting to cloud her mind.

We both know otherwise, you’ve seen how she looks at him, the voice said. She possesses the same lustful eyes as all the rest.

She’s ineligible to wed the Slave King, thou cretin! she said, standing up, and prepared to face Lady Minoa once more.

When has that ever stopped her from claiming something she desires? the voice replied. She could easily claim this contests results as invalid and marry him for herself.

Nay! she cried out, afraid the voice spoke the truth. Never, she’ll never have him! He’s ours and ours alone!

You’re much too weak to do anything about it, Luna, the voice said. You couldn’t even stand up against Minoa. What hope do you have to stand against your sister?

She remembered the power the shadows gave her, and how strong they’d made her. Narrowing her eyes in anger, at the injustice of her sister stealing away her stallion, she called upon the shadows, and bathed in their power.

Infused once more with the power of the Shadow Domain, her normally blue coat became as black as pitch. Her mane and tail, shifted into shadows, and her horn’s magic became as dark as the night itself.

Now feeling invincible, she flared out her wings, and stomped down her hoof in challenge. “Lady Minoa!” she shouted, causing the mine to quake with the power of her voice. “The third law states.”

Lady Minoa turned around, and stared in shock at Luna’s transformation. Quickly recovering from her surprise, she ran forward, with her arm pulled back to deliver another earth shattering blow. Luna grinned maliciously, and ran to meet her. Right before, she could throw her punch, Luna used her magic, to grab hold of her arm, and slammed her hard against the mine’s walls repeatedly, before tossing her down the tunnel. Groaning with pain, Lady Minoa struggled to get up, before rolling back her eyes and falling unconscious.

“The third law states, Lady Minoa,” Luna derisively said. “To the victor goes the spoils.”

“That is true, Luna, the Beautiful,” the Slave King said, clapping slowly, as he inspected her new look. “Or is that, Luna, the Black, now?”

“We care not,” she replied, banishing the shadows that had fueled her victory and resuming her normal appearance. Walking towards him, she nuzzled him affectionately. “As long as we can call thee, husband.”

“I suppose you did win my little contest,” he said, pointing towards a prone Lady Minoa, who lay unmoving on the ground. “Very well, I suppose you’ve caught me, congratulations, wife.”

When she heard him acknowledge her as the winner, and more importantly as his wife, she inwardly exalted in triumph. Looking towards the ceiling where his draught had dripped from, she noticed it was dry now. Laying her head against him, she smiled as he escorted her out of the mines, back towards his treasury and Celestia, to tell her who’d won.

Once they had left her behind, Discord removed the paint he’d been wearing, that had disguised him as part of the scenery. Holding up the bottle of draught he’d borrowed from the Slave King, he smiled, before looking down at Lady Minoa battered flesh. Gazing down at her loveliness, he chuckled. “Your loss, Slave King…” he said, poring some of the draught into her mouth. “My gain.”

*****

Her feathers caught fire, as she flew faster then she’d ever gone before. She had to reach him before the others managed to catch him. Searching the manufactorium, she couldn’t find a single trace of him. Only the other goddesses, many of who, were bitter and despondent at having been unable to keep up, let her know he was no longer there. Spying a roughly made tunnel that wasn’t there previously, told her everything she needed to know. He’d moved things to the old city. Beating her wings with a renewed sense of hope, she entered the tunnel, and prayed she wasn’t too late.

The heart beating in the steel box seemed to resonate with its owner. She knew where he was now, the abandoned mines he had once toiled in. He often told her tales of the mine, when she asked him about his many scars. Every time, it brought her to tears, knowing that he’d suffered so. But she was bound and determined, that he’d only know happiness from this day forth.

Spying the mine’s entrance in the distance, she knew she was but minutes from holding him once more. She thought about how long it had been since they’d last been together, and smiled that she would know his gentle touch once more. However, before she was able to enter the mine, she saw something that cut her to her very core. Princess Luna and the Slave King, were exiting the mine together!

“No…” she whispered, realizing to her horror, that because she stole his heart away from the Well of Eternity, she’d lost her beloved Slave King to another. Releasing an echoing cry of despair, she flew towards the broken lava dome, hoping to escape the place that had dashed all her hopes and dreams of a future with the feather she loved above all others.

*****

The Slave King heard a familiar voice cry out. Looking up, he saw Lady Suzaku flying away. As she left, he felt a sliver of regret that she’d not been the one who’d caught him in the end.

Luna, spying her betrothed looking skyward, looked at him questioningly. “What dost thou spy, mine husband?” she asked him.

Looking once more at the retreating Lady Suzaku, he steeled away his aching heart, and turned towards Luna. “It’s nothing, wife,” he replied, gesturing towards the tunnel that would lead them back into his manufactorium. “Let’s return to your sister.”

Pleased he’d addressed her as his wife, she smiled, as she followed him into the manufactorium.

*****

High above on his perch, Discord looked down at the reluctant groom and his bride to be and laughed. Holding a Luna plushie in his claw and a newly purchased Slave King plushie in his paw, he held them near each other.

“Mwah,” Discord said, making kissing noises, as he pushed the two plushies together.

“I’m so excited to get married, aren’t you?” Discord said in a falsetto voice, as he moved the Luna plushie up and down excitedly.

“Not really,” Discord answered, lowering his voice to gravelly rasp as he turned the Slave King plushie away from Luna.

“But I won! You have to do what I say now, you’re my property,” the Luna plushie demanded, stomping her hoof down in annoyance.

“I’m going to kill you, Discord,” the Slave King plushie said, looking at him menacingly.

“Hey now, don’t be so hasty, pal,” Discord said, holding up his claw and paw defensively. “It’s all part of the plan.”

“The plan?” the Slave King plushie questioned, not believing Discord for a moment.

“Yeah the plan, you know, the one that Jormungandr, you, and I all agreed to,” he said.

“I don’t recall any plan,” the Slave King plushie replied, thrumming his fingers impatiently.

“Okay fine, I wasn’t supposed to say anything yet,” Discord said, as he checked to make sure nopony could overhear them. Looking at the Luna plushie, he stuffed her into a bag. “Sorry Luna, what I have to say, is for your hubby’s ears only.”

“No fair!” the Luna plushie cried out, before being silenced by the sack.

“Alright, here’s Jormungandr’s plan…” he said, as he whispered it into the plushie’s ear.

Author's Note

Thank you gentlereader for reading chapter 13 of The Book of Water: The Marriage of the Slave King, as always comments are appreciated. My apologies for the delay, I was forced to do somewhat of a rewrite of the sections between Lady Minoa and Princess Luna in order to slightly adjust the plot. Originally I was planning on having Lady Zephyr intercede in their fight, but than you run into the issue of why would Lady Zephyr allow Princess Luna have him. So with the rewrite, I think things turned out much better.

Well it looks like Princess Luna will become the Slave King's wife, just as Princess Celestia wanted. Though I wonder if she realizes what it cost her sister to win. Lady Zephyr, decided though she loved the Slave King, she wouldn't force him to marry her. Lady Suzaku, desperate to be loved by the Slave King, decided to go through with her original plan and literally stole his heart, spiriting it away to her Summer Palace. Lady Minoa lies defeated and forgotten, I wonder if she'll pursue greener pastures? Princess Celestia got her way, the Slave King's going to marry Princess Luna, though she hired Discord to make it so. But what of Discord, what's his angle in all this, and what was the plan he spoke of?

Find out the answers to these questions and more, in the next exciting chapter of The Book of Water: Marriage of the Slave King, coming soon to a computer near you!

Once again gentlereader, thank you for reading and all your kind words and support. You make writing worthwhile. Until next time!