Twenty miles from Canterlot, Iscariat  slept under a tree, a blanket of leaves kept the sting of the wind at bay, and a patch of moss cushioned his head from the otherwise lumpy ground. He was so tired now a days, his heart and lungs constantly struggling to keep up, and even his magic was getting more and more difficult to call upon. He felt so useless, how could he help anypony like this?

"Mother was right, I'm worthless," Iscariat said to himself, as he recalled that painful day, when his own mother turned his back on him, and all but ignored his very existence.

Doubt and stress soon clutched his heart, their icy grip sapping him of all strength, and plunging his mind into nothing short of chaos. Tossing and turning like a child with a fever, Iscariat inhaled and exhaled heavily, his lungs and heart straining to maintain any normal rhythm, and his head ached something fierce. Scrunching up into a ball, Iscariat whimpered as his mother's voice resonated inside his head like a wrathful divinity, enraged by his very existence.

"Weak...Worthless...Lazy..."

"You bring great shame to our family, and our Noble Ancestry with each breath you take!"

"Sorry, mother."

"Did you just talk back to me?! What have I told you, time and again!"

"One may not speak until spoken to."

"And?"

"Ah...and...and...Mother, please, don't make me say it. It is so vulgar."

"Finish reciting it, or you will go straight to bed without any supper."

"Snif, snif, snif, and trash may not speak at all."

"An that, my son, is what you are, and so have no right to speak."

Those words, and that very statement, were drilled into him for years by his mother, and any time he would forget his place swift punishment was soon to follow. Iscariat was beaten, denied food, and in extreme cases, even denied sleep by the one who was supposed to care for him most, and not once did she show any sign of empathy or remorse. From the moment Iscariat could cast a spell, he always greeted the morning with tears, but it was not from the sever punishment. No, what brought tears to his eyes was the notion, the idea that he was nothing but a burden, a useless waste of space.

"Don't cry Iscariat," a soft voice spoke in the dark recesses of his mind. "For you are among friends. Now it is time to awaken."

Opening his tear soaked eyes, Iscariat gazed upon the blurred visage of Princess Celestia, and Fyee. Both mare and Changeling viewed him with a heavy heart, his decrepit form confounding them for a moment before they reached out, and helped him up. Drying his eyes, Iscariat held his tongue, though in his heart he knew he was not deserving of their kindness, Celestia's least of all; the faint remnant of the slash he awarded her still visible. Groaning slightly as the weight of his body rested on his nearly worn out joints, Iscariat struggled to maintain his balance, and with a thump he crashed back onto his bed of leaves. "Pathetic," his mother's voice rang out again in his mind, but he refused to listen, for he would accept no more pity from those who had every right to despise him, and yet do not.

Through his own volition, Iscariat forced himself to his feet, the pain was irritating, and he was sure this recklessness would have serious consequences down the road, but it didn't matter; he had to stand. Fyee shook her head, none of this made the slightest sense to her, Iscariat was always a dear colleague... No! Even before they knew their names well enough, Fyee felt a strong connection to Iscariat, and it was more than some romantic desire; they complete each other, as if casted from the same mold. An yet the vistigues of fate have cruelly pitted them against one another, and for what? So, Iscariat can atone for a sin that was not his to bear, or was it simply some form of bad comedy?

"I'm glad fate has granted us this audience, Iscariat," Princess Celestia said with a genuine smile.

"As am I, Celestia, and good evening to you as well, Fyee," Iscariat replied politely, in spite of his great discomfort.

Silence fell, both Princess Celestia and Fyee were momentarily stunned by Iscariat's words, for not once has he ever, in their company any way, spoken their name without the proper honorific attached to it; this was serious.

"Okay, what are you playing at Iscariat?" Fyee asked, casting subtlety to the wind, and getting down to business.

"Nothing Fyee, it is just this meeting has been a long time coming, and it is time that I stand before you as an equal, not a lesser," Iscariat said, as he drove all thoughts of his pain from his mind, and stood tall on his three hooves.

"Iscariat, you have always been an equal in our eyes, but you have always refused to admit it to yourself," Princess Celestia replied with a soft tone.

"Yes, I concur my vices have hindered me in that regard," Iscariat humbly retorte. "In any event, we have much to discuss, and time is short. So, please, ladies first."

"Chivalrous as ever," Princess Celestia said with a slight smirk, and then immediately adopted a more stern gaze. "Tell me Iscariat, why is it you feel the need to carry such heavy burdens?"

"They are my mistakes, and so my burdens to bear," Iscariat replied, his voice weighed heavily by his guilt.

"Mistakes? Ah, Iscariat you can't blame yourself for Luna becoming Nightmare Moon, then and now," Princess Celestia retorted, her head slouching in depression after saying Luna's name.

"No, Celestia, that is not the mistake that vexes me," Iscariat replied, actually catching Celestia off guard for a moment. "That which plauges me is the knowledge that I am the cause of Nightmare being demonized."

"Why is that? What is your reasoning?" Princess Celestia inquired, her tone filled with honest curiosity than harsh judgment.

"In the past, did I try to understand her? To divine any insight into her psychie? To even talk to her?! No, all I saw was a monster, something I needed to purge, but the teeth is I was wrong," Iscariat said, dropping onto his rear haunches, and then laying his right hoof on his chest, over his, obstructed, crescent scar. "Deep down, Nightmare Moon is more akin to you, Celestia, than say Sombra."

"Are you serious?" Fyee retorted sharply, as she stepped forward, and locked eyes with Iscariat. "Why Iscariat? Why are you playing Nightmare's game?"

"Fyee, you of all beings should understand the pain of judgment through one's appearance," Iscariat replied, hoping Fyee would grasp his reasoning.

"I do, but Nightmare brought that upon herself. She chose to be a monster, and so must abide with it," Fyee said, her voice devoid of empathy, and chillingly cold.

"But she didn't have a choice, she never did, and if I had bothered to really understand her, then none of this would be an issue," Iscariat explained, but Fyee refused to consider his words, and that only raised his ire.

"Why do you defend her, when she never once shown remorse? I know this is true because I was there, I saw the atrocities of the Hundred Year War, and all the children lay buried in that! So, don't preach to me that she didn't have a choice!" Fyee shouted at the top of her lungs, and stomping her right hoof upon the ground in anger.

"How dare you speak of the Hundred Year War as if you knew it! You know nothing!" Iscariat yelled back in kind, his eyes over flowing with rage, and Fyee, unknowingly, retracted at the sight; never has he raised his voice like that to her. "The Hundred Year War is a blight in our Nation's history. There was no victory in it, only loss, and you have the arrogance to lecture me on it! When all you did was watch. You have no right to speak of it, just as you have no real business being here anymore."

"What are you saying?" Fyee inquired, her heart trembling before the answer.

"Go home Fyee, your assistance is no longer required," Iscariat solemnly replied, while on the inside he felt a great pain in his heart.

"Iscariat...I...I...I hate you!" Fyee shouted, as she punched him square in the face, knocking him into the tree behind him. "You always have to do everything by yourself! Why can't you swallow your pride, and accept my help once in a while?! But no, that is too much to ask, so you shoulder all the responsibility and stress, and in the end you can't save anypony! Not yourself, not your countrymen, or even the mare you once had feelings for! You are just useless!"

Not even giving Iscariat a chance to rebuttal, Fyee took of to the sky, and flew out of sight in the blink of an eye. Iscariat could not move, his insides were on fire, and his mind ached from the constant shouting of a single word; useless. Princess Celestia could see it in Iscariat's eyes, he was going to break; Fyee had unknowingly taken a sharp knife, and tore open Iscariat's worse mental scar.

"Iscariat, it is alright. She didn't mean it," Princess Celestia said, as she slowly approached him, and then embraced him in a soothing hug. "Now you listen to me, no matter what happens after tonight, I want you to always remember this; You are not useless. I mean it, Iscariat, and never think otherwise."

"I'm sorry, Celestia. I ruined everything," Iscariat said, as he rested his head against the Princess' chest.

"No, I should have come alone, I know that now," Princess Celestia said, as she took a deep breath, and then slowly exhaled. "Iscariat, I have to go after Fyee, and see if she is okay."

"I know," Iscariat said, as he backed away from Princess Celestia, his head still held low. "Take care of her, Celestia."

"I will," Princess Celestia said, and with a sad sigh, she kicked off the ground, then flew off after Fyee as fast as lightning.

Alone again, Iscariat resumed his journey back to Canterlot, the words from his conversation with Fyee looping in infinitum inside his head, and it soon occurred to him. Even if redeemed, would anypony really trust Nightmare Moon? Or was Fyee right? Was Iscariat sacrificing everything for an impossible ideal? Doubt once more clutched his heart, and again Iscariat could see the two swirling vortexes, calling out to him, but as before he had no answer, and so the coin continued to turn, as doubt over took him. An in the darkness, one word rang out like a church bell; Useless. Next Chapter: Chapter 13: Loss Estimated time remaining: 26 Minutes