Stalker watched as his friend dragged the ever loyal Boulder away from him. He could feel every hard pump of his heart push splashes of blood out of him and onto the ground below. It was a strange sensation. One that he had felt a few times before though never with this much pain.

I’m going to die

The thought did not concern him greatly. He had been raised to prepare for death every day After all their line of work tended to make the years short and few. He had set Mordane on a path toward power.

Maybe he’ll make a statue of me… What the hell would it even look like?

The Irona soldiers quickly devastated the unprepared mercenary forces. Stalker however did not notice that. Instead he focused on his right forehoof. Grunting he forced it into his satchel and pulled out a stone before placing it onto his chest.

Its surface was covered in intricate patterns that few could recognise outside of his clan.

From stone we did come

To earth we will go.

From the fire down below,

to the wi-

With a shudder, Stalker slipped into unconsciousness.

There would of been the end of Stalker ,but fate had other plans.

From the mass of Irona soldiers two wearing medic uniforms made their way straight for the fallen pony.

Shop Lifter checked his brother’s mouth for a breath. Once confirmed he and Smut Peddler where wearing Irona medic uniforms, so nopony paid any attention when they slide the still bleeding Stalker onto a stretcher, an Irona uniform draped over him .

The three brothers navigated through the surging forces, out into the courtyard and then the fortress

Far too many ponies were moving about to take notice of them as they moved out of the camp and into the forest.

As they crossed deeper and deeper into the green overhang, their hooves began to move faster and faster until like a blur the three ponies were racing through the underbrush a frightening speeds only obtainable by a lifetime of hard labor and training.

The Irona gear was stripped off as they moved and soon even the cot was abandoned leaving Stalker riding on Smut Peddler’s back.

Like a leaf landing they came to a stop atop a rock before placing their burden down. A quick glance told them Stalker had already passed out from blood loss.

“Lifter, hoof me that medical satchel of his.” Smut Peddler whispered holding out his hoof.

“Yes, master.” Shoplifter replied snarky.

His brother glared at him before turning back to pay attention to Stalker. His voice lacked the usual joy that permeated its every word.

“Quite. You're my brother and I am no master.”

“Not according to what a little bird told me.” Shop lifter said lying on his back with his back hooves crossed.

Smut Peddler groaned before lifting an eyebrow at Shoplifter. His hooves were already cutting away excess cloth from around Stalkers wound.

“You realise that spying on the council is a crime punishable by death.”

“Just like everything else we do.” Stalker said rolling his eyes.

Shop Lifter opened Stalkers satchel before setting it where Smut peddler could reach it. He then propped up Stalkers head. All while still laying next to him on the ground.

“Is he going to live?” ShopeLifter asked as his lips turned downward slightly.

“It’s a kidney wound… regular medicine won’t do anything.”

“You're the master. Got a soul stone?”

“Stalker does,” he said reaching into the bag and pulling out a gem. “He was always the ambitious one.” Smut Peddler frowned. “Hold him still.”

Smut sat down in front of his younger brother. and began to breath. In and out. With a great heave he rammed the diamond into the stone beneath them embedding it there before beginning his incantation.

"As the river flows, our hearts beat down below. As the wind twists and turns to new patterns. As life breaths in us, and all around reflects in that which abounds. The Fire underneath the earth mother whose seeds we sow. To the Lord of chaos she wed. Grant us this life whose loss your children dread."

The crystal began to glow as SmutPelder pushed it further and further into the stone.Cracks spread to form a circle of intricate patterns around Stalker and Shop Lifter.

As Smut stared intently at the wound dust and water gravitated toward them into it reforming into flesh that stitched his wound nearly closed.

Shop Lifter let out a whistle as his eyes widened. “Now that is something to see.”

“Aye.” grunted Stalker as he came to. “Still hurts… Since when did you progress to that level?”

“Since a month ago, you lout.”

Stalker struggled to his hooves still feeling weak. Smut Peddler, however, pushed him back down.

“You ain’t going nowhere. That spell only made your wound non-life threatening, it didn’t replace your blood.”

“Okay,” Stalker whispered while closing his eyes and letting his head lay against the ground. “What were you doing there.”

“I got a better question,” spoke up Shop Lifter. “What in TARTARUS where YOU doing there?”

“You knew that place was a death trap, Stalker.” Smut Peddler spoke sternly, glaring at Shop Lifter. “We were waiting to see why you were staying.”

“...You were in the Irona forces for days.”

“Ever since they left-” *smack*

Smut Peddler reeled back from Stalker’s backhoof. Shop Lifter wrapped his hooves around the struggling pony.

“You bastard! Why didn’t you help him?”

Smut Peddler stood up whipping the small amount of blood coming out of his nose.

“Why didn’t I help him? Why would I, when he has done so much to pull my brother into his orbit?”

“Let. me. GO!” Stalker broke out of his brother Shop Lifter's hold.

“Why do you give that colt your loyalty, Stalker. You were the best of us. The brightest of us. The strongest of us. Then suddenly you get focused on this alicorn with a death wish?”

“The earth sings to him!” Stalker shouted while positioning the other two earth ponies opposite of him.

Silence, silent as the grave.

Smut Peddler and Shop Lifter froze, letting their fitted muzzles loosed and fall open in utter shock.

“You're wrong! That...that can’t be,” Shop Lifter whispered his voice quivering. “It can’t be true.” He looked into his brother’s eyes looking for any doubt or reason to believe it to not be so.

“It is.” Stalker’s eyes were unflinching.

Smut Peddler shook his head and took a few steps back as Shop Lifter continued to stare.

“No, he can’t be the spirit of the earth. Not after all this time not after--”

“After what!” Growled Stalker “After we sold our soul to him! That we find our light only--”

“Maybe Stalker’s right.” Shop Lifter sputtered while moving to Stalker’s side. “I’ve seen his war magic. If the earth calls to him…”

“NO.” Smut Peddler stomped his hoof and spat as his eyes lashed alight. “We are sworn.”

“We are sworn to the earth!” shouted Stalker.

“WE ARE SWORN TO DISCORD!” Smut Peddler roared.

“Not I. Not anymore.” Stalker whispered in return before rocketing into the air and dashing toward the fortress.

He moved forward through the forest single mindedly. Only taking note of the one or two mercenary soldiers walking through to forest.

How did they escape the fortress?

Stalker had no way to know so he pushed forward even as he saw ponies being shot by the pursuing Irona soldiers.

One of the ponies, however, caught his eye.

________________________________________________________

Boulder was running. His legs burned with the strain and his heart beat like a drum. Behind him three Irona soldiers galloped. One unicorn fired a beam and cracked a tree in half.

He was chased ever since materializing after Mordane cast the teleportation spell. It was only the trees that prevented him from already being hit.

His mad dash however could not be sustained as soon his hoof caught on a root and forced him to fall. Boulder struggled to his hooves as fast as he could but a part of him knew it was too late.

Turning around he faced his death head on.

Meanwhile the three ponies chasing him were slumping to the ground.

Standing over them was a pony he had just written off.

“Stalker?” he panted wide eyed. “Stalker!”

Boulder ran up and clutched his comrade, neither caring nor considering how he had made it out and was still standing.

Stalker winced and shuddered at Boulder’s embrace. Looking down he could see blood trickling out of the stab wound again.

The strain proved to have been far beyond what his body had left. Stalker blacked out into Boulder’s hooves.

Boulder gave Stalker a shake trying to bring him back around. However, shouting ponies coming from the direction of the fortress caught his attention.

Not knowing what had happened to Mordane, Boulder knew what he had to do.

Throwing Stalker over his shoulder he pointed himself toward a town he knew that was not too far away…

As Boulder came over the next of a hundred hills he breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of the village beneath him.

Nearly a full day had passed since Stalker had collapsed. Since Mordane…

Boulder shook his head not wanting to think about that.

The town appeared to have two inns so Boulder headed for the nearest one.

Walking inside he wasn’t surprised to see a bar as many inns were both. The inside was a rustic and not exactly clean but it would do

“Hey buddy, you can’t bring that pony in here.” said the bar owner coming up.

“Please, sir. We just need a place to rest. I’ll work to pay for our room and board.”

The barkeeper rubbed his chin and walked around Boulder checking him over. For the life of him Boulder did not know why, but he held his peace.

“Soldier?”

“Something like that.”

“Mercenary then. Even better.” The pony looked at him and gave a grin. “You wouldn’t happen to have been part of the band lead by necromancer that had both wings and a horn would ya?”

Boulder froze in place drawing a bark of laughter from the patron.

“Absolutely perfect. They will come from towns over. If you work here you may get tired but the strain shouldn’t be anything like what you're use to. I will expect you to service at least eight customers a day. You ok with that?”

Only eight? The prices must be ridiculous.

“You have my word. At least eight a day.”

The old patron nodded his head before giving a grin.

“All right. I’ll give ya a room and some food. You work two weeks for me and then you can leave. I’ll even see to it that pony on your back gets care while you're working. Just don’t think I won’t turn you in if you try to swindle me.”

“Thank you,” Boulder sighed, glad to have things finally working fine for once.

The stallion motioned a mare serving drinks over and she led them into the back to a surprisingly comfortable room.

“Uhh… wow. That is a big bed.”

The mare giggled.

“Well you don’t expect us to work without a good bed do ya? Come on let’s go back to the boss, he will be wanting you to work tonight.”

Boulder hardened his gaze at but said nothing. Instead opting to leave Stalker in a comfortable position before turning to follow her.

The oddness of the statement stuck out in his mind however and so he asked innocently.

“Why would we need a good bed for our work?”

She looked him in the eye and giggled again.

“You can’t expect a brothel to have bad beds.”

_______________________________________________

Mordane cringed as stabbing needles of pain pushed inward from every part of his body, trying to drive him to cry out and whimper. Another part that was unnatural reveled in the pain.

Such an impulse was met with a wave of revulsion at even thinking of such a reaction. With but a thought the pain dulled and His mind found solid ground.

The alicorn marveled for a moment at the ease with which he had pushed away the pain and the memories of Blackheart. A part of him shrugged, a part that he had kept locked away for a long time.

Mordane breathed in deeply, resisting the urge to cough as dust tried to enter through his nose. Instead he marveled at the roiling, he felt the pulse beneath his skin and the newly lit fire in his heart.

His ears perked up and his face muscles pulled upward. The smile felt the same as it always had yet different. Everything felt different.

The cuffs on his hooves cut savagely to his flesh, they were not padded but he could feel strong enchantments sapping his strength. Leaving him without earth pony might. His horn was hollow and dead above a container ring and upon his back was enchanted wing restraints as well.

All of his strength and magic was still there, but just beyond his reach, a cruel joke that almost made him chuckle. But Mordane didn’t feel weak. He felt strong. Opening his eyes and sitting up confirmed what his others senses had already told him.

It was high noon and he was in a caged cart being dragged down a dirt road in a slave caravan The crack of whips could be here as ponies, griffins, zebra and minotaur alike were being lead by chains and pushed by their masters.

The sight caused a slight taste of disgust to roll over his tongue. Inefficient, so very inefficient, Slaves were one of the worst kinds of waste. Only fools used them. Fools too weak to get others to follow.

Mordane looked down at his chains. These chains meant to bind him.

And he laughed.

The slave drives faces all furrowed and a few twitched to move and put the slave in his place but stopped suddenly and hesitated before ignoring the rumored monster.

Slaves looked at the insane pony and shuddered thinking about how they may soon follow.

Mordane however did not give any mind to what they thought. He felt like laughing, so he laughed. Such a free and unrestrained expression, it was just right.

It only lasted a few seconds before his graph died to a chuckle then only a grin on his face. His attention now was forced on the only other two occupants of his iron barred carriage.

The first was a stone faced Buffalo. Mordane could easily tell that talking to him was a practice in futility.

She sat in the far corner, fur ragged and it was obvious somepony had done her over with a cane. The welts and bruises could be seen even through her filthy sky blue coat. Her face was tucked under her forehooves pulling her into a ball.

A flush of pity welled up and Mordane did nothing to stop it. He was done with suppressing his feelings. Done with living in fear. For now on he would live every moment. He breathed in sweet air.

“Hello?” He softly cooed. “My name is Mordane...are you able to talk?”

There was no response.

Mordane knew that she was awake. Her body was too tense for sleep.

“You know, we probably have some ways to go before--”

“Why did you laugh?” The pony whimpered.

“I’m sorry?” Mordane said, pretending he did not understand her.

The blue pony stirred and pulled her head out from under her foreleg.

“Why were you laughing?” Her voice whimpered with irritation.

Mordane blinked and tried to touch her shoulder but was reminded of his cuffs.

Instead he settled for a smile. For a moment. He felt the change. For a moment he understood.

This was the point. From this moment on the world would be different. He would be different. When you fall so low the only direction left to go is up.

“I laugh because despite being in chains, I am finally free.”